Me when i write fluff: *SNIFF* *SNIFF* *CRYING* THEY'RE SO HAPPY. THEY FINALLY GET THEIR GOOD ENDING. AUGHHHH.
Me when i write angst: Hmmm which one of these chucklefucks will i bestow horrid psychological torture upon this time?. I will make them feel so hopeless that THEY ARE SO SAD AND FUCKED UP AND THEY WANT TO FUCKING KILL THEMSELVES AHAHAHAAHAHHAHA.
Pairings: Stanford Pines x Reader
Warnings: residual angst (barely) but nothing rlly, just comfort
Word Count: 1,003
A/N: I FELT SO FOR PT 1 SO I HAD TO RECONCILE WITH PT. 2 PLS FORGIVE ME EVERYONE
part 1
You sat there, staring at the door long after Ford had walked out. The storm raged louder now, echoing the turmoil inside you. His words kept replaying in your mind, each one like a fresh wound that refused to heal.
For a while, you didn’t move. You couldn’t. Everything felt too heavy, too final. You had always thought you could weather any storm with him, but now… maybe you had been wrong.
The door creaked open again, and for a moment, your heart leaped, thinking it was Ford, that maybe he had come back to apologize, to take it all back. But it wasn’t him. It was Stanley.
He took one look at you and frowned, concern etched into his features. “What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.
You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “Ford… he just—he just ended it.”
Stanley’s eyes widened, anger flaring in them, but it wasn’t directed at you. “That idiot,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “He always thinks he’s gotta handle everything alone.”
You shook your head, feeling the tears threatening to fall again. “He said I couldn’t understand what he’s dealing with. That I’m just in the way.”
Stanley sighed and sat down beside you, the bed creaking under his weight. “Ford’s got a way of overthinking things,” he said. “He’s stubborn as hell, always has been. But don’t let him make you feel like you’re not enough. This isn’t on you.”
For a moment, you couldn’t respond, the pain still too raw. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “He doesn’t want me around.”
Stanley put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let him cool off,” he said. “He’ll realize what he’s done. And if he doesn’t… well, then he’s more of a fool than I thought. But you’re not the problem here. Don’t ever think you are.”
His words didn’t fix everything, but they gave you a flicker of hope in the darkness. Maybe Ford would come to his senses, or maybe he wouldn’t. But for now, you weren’t completely alone.
And that, at least, was something.
----------------------------------------
Days passed, and each one felt heavier than the last. You tried to occupy yourself, but Ford’s absence was like a constant weight on your chest. Every sound, every thought reminded you of him, of the words he said and the finality in his voice. But despite the hurt, you couldn’t shake the hope that he’d come back, that maybe—just maybe—there was still something worth saving.
One evening, after the sun had set and the Mystery Shack was quiet, there was a soft knock on your door. You sat up, heart pounding, unsure if you should dare hope.
“Come in,” you said, your voice barely audible.
The door creaked open, and there he was— Ford, standing in the doorway, his face shadowed and serious. He didn’t look angry this time, but there was something else in his eyes—something that looked almost like regret.
“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, not moving from the door.
You nodded, unsure if you could trust your voice. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, but keeping his distance. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension was thick, the silence heavy.
“I’ve been thinking,” he finally said, his voice low and strained. “About what I said to you… about everything.” He paused, as if gathering his thoughts. “I shouldn’t have said any of it.”
Your heart ached at his words, but you stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“I thought pushing you away would make things easier,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the floor. “That if I didn’t have to worry about you, I could focus on the bigger problems. But I was wrong. It hasn’t made anything easier. In fact, it’s made everything worse.”
He looked up at you then, his expression softening. “I’ve been trying to do everything alone for so long, and I guess… I forgot... how to let someone in.”
You swallowed hard, feeling the emotions bubbling up. “Ford, I just wanted to help. I care about you.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I care about you, too. More than I can put into words. That’s why it was so hard. I was scared… scared of losing you because of the dangers I’m facing. But in trying to protect you, I pushed you away, and I almost lost you anyway.”
You stood up, taking a tentative step closer to him. “You don’t have to do everything alone,” you said gently. “I’m not going anywhere, Ford. I’m here, and I want to be with you—no matter how hard it gets.”
He looked at you, his eyes filled with something you hadn’t seen in days: vulnerability. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. “Not after what I said.”
You shook your head, closing the gap between you. “That’s not true. We’ve both made mistakes, but we can fix this. We just have to do it together.”
Ford hesitated for a moment, then slowly, he reached for your hand. His grip was tentative at first, as if he wasn’t sure he deserved the comfort, but when you didn’t pull away, he held on tighter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”
You squeezed his hand, feeling the weight of the moment lift ever so slightly. “I forgive you,” you said softly. “But we have to talk. No more shutting me out.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and relief. “No more shutting you out,” he promised, his voice firmer now.
For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of peace settle between you both. The storm had passed, and though there would undoubtedly be more challenges ahead, you knew you could face them—together.
Ford pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he were afraid to let go again. And for now, that was enough.
You were Ford's best friend, you had known him and his twin brother, Stan, since you were kids. You, too, had lived in Glass Shard Beach and met the twins at the beach one day. You instantly became enamoured with Ford, becoming his closest friend. As you got older, the platonic love for Stanford had slowly turned into a romantic one. As strong as that love was, you refused to believe it. You'd never liked a boy before, surely what you felt for Ford was completely platonic, right?
~*~*~*~*~
Years and years after, you and Ford still had an unbreakable bond. You both graduated from high school and then proceeded to attend the same college. Through all the challenges of college, your bond had never withered or suffered. The two of you did everything with one another, you always studied with one another and you also shared the passion of anomalies with Ford. So, once the you had both graduated from Backupsmore and Ford decided to have a cabin built in Gravity Falls for his research, he thought it only made sense to invite you to go live with him to research things. You packed all your things up and started the car ride to Gravity Falls.
You hadn't gotten a drivers license yet, you were far too busy so when you started the road trip, you piled into Ford's car. He had been able to drive for years and he didn't mind getting to spend extra time with his favourite person. You talked for hours and hours. Eventually, you got sleepy after being awake for so long. Ford had somehow not felt an ounce of exhaustion. You yawned and yawned, dozing off every so often before Ford recommended that you lay down in the back seats and take a nap. He pulled over briefly, receiving pillows and blankets from the back of his car and helping you get comfy in the back. You laid down, snuggling into the blanket. Ford began to drive again and you slowly drifted into sleep.
Ford had been driving for about another 15 minutes until he decided to quickly check up on you in the mirror. His eyes flickered up the rear-view mirror and his heart softened. You were laying there, fast asleep, gently snoring and snuggling into your blankets. He smiled at the sight, making him fall even more in love with you, not that he knew that's what that warm feeling he felt at that point was. He looked at you for another few seconds before turning his attention back to the road.
~*~*~*~*~
You soon arrived in Gravity Falls and got to your cabin in the woods. It was gorgeous. You began unpacking and setting up the place you and Ford would call home. It felt... romantic to be living with Ford. But not in like a bad way, it actually felt quite... nice? It felt nice to share a home with him, to wake up to him, to go to bed to him, to share a life with him. It wasn't romantic though, at all, right? Yeah, definitely not.
~*~*~*~*~
The two of you had been living in your cabin for just over a year. It was great fun living with Ford. You were his lab assistant so the two of you got up to many entertaining experiments. You assisted him in writing his first journal, and then decided to make your own series of journals too. You helped him with his experiments and joined him on expeditions. Of course, you were scientists, that was your job. When you have a job, you have to work. But recently, you began to get tired. And on the other hand, Ford didn't seem tired at all, overworked but refusing to seem tired at all. It was concerning, he worked almost twice as much as you did but gave off no hints of exhaustion from how much he worked. One day, you were in the lab, it was quiet but both of you were at work.
You sat over at your desk, joining wires and planning out your inventions. You always invented machines for Ford, to help him with his anomaly research. As you sketched, you felt yourself feeling exhausted. You yawned but tried to persevere and keep going but you really couldn't. You glanced over to Ford and with a small stretch you asked;
"Hey, Ford, do you wanna come take a break with me?"
"Oh, um... no thank you (Y/N). However, you're welcome to go take one yourself if you'd like!" He said with a small smile before turning back to his work. You frowned and began to talk again.
"Are you sure, you've been overworking yourself recently with like no breaks. You certain you don't wanna come join me?"
"(Y/N), I don't know what you're talking about, I'm fine. Besides, I'm a genius, I don't need a break." He said with a small shrug as he continued writing in his journal. You scoffed at him and tried convincing him again.
"First of all, even geniuses need break. Second of all, pleaseeee will you join me? I'll give you jelly beans..." He paused at your last sentence, considering your offer and sighed as he stood up from his desk, turning to face you. You let out a small 'Yay!' as you hugged him hastily before turning to go back upstairs. He stared at you as you did so, beginning to blush and letting a small smile slip across his face as he trailed after you
~*~*~*~*~
You made your way up to your bedroom, after a pit stop in the kitchen to gather a bowl of jelly beans and snacks. Ford loved your bedroom, it smelt of you and it was so comfy and cosy. Your room was so welcoming and warm. So when you plopped down into your double bed. You got comfy under your covers before patting the bed next to you, indicating for Ford to come lay next to you. He blushed slightly, reluctantly climbing in. You turned on the TV in your room, playing some show on the Gravity Falls local channel. Not paying attention, you drifted off into sleep. Ford became infatuated with the storyline of the show before rotating his head to see you, peacefully sleeping. He got deja vu to the moment in the car a year ago, he felt at ease. Slowly, he dozed off, feeling comforted by your presence.
~*~*~*~*~
A few hours later, Ford slowly stirred. He saw the time flashing on your alarm clock, gasping when he saw that he overslept by many hours. He went to rush out of bed before he realised there was something holding onto him. He looked back, confused but instantly turned bright pink. There lying next to him, was you, arms wrapped around his waist, cuddling up to him. He couldn't just get up when you were laying there, so peaceful and adorable. He layed back down, softly putting his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. He murmured a small 'I love you', not noticing the fact you were semi-awake and heard him utter these words. You smiled gently as Ford drifted back into sleep.
Oh well, work can wait.
(A/N): Sorry if I've accidentally used non gn pronouns, I've written this at like 2:30am 😭 anyway hope you enjoy!!! <3
Mister country boy meeting a goth/rebel kind of reader and he is just putty but very embarrassed about it
Golden reviver boy and black cat gn
My P.U.N.K. Girl
warnings — SFW, just fluff, young!fiddleford, college fiddleford implied, gn reader
summary —Fiddleford x Alternative!reader headcanons
<𝟑 Imagine a small town country bumpkin who barely left the farm seeing a goth or punk person for the first time.
<𝟑 Your first meeting wasn’t even a meeting, because he was looking at you from a distance and ran into a pole.
<𝟑 Maybe you finally call him out on his staring, by marching at him very confused, and almost angrily. Presumably in the 70s, most states you got were with fowl intent.
“Why are you always doing that?” You ask, “Staring at me like I have a third head.”
His eyes widened. “Why I— I reckon your most striking person i’ve ever seen,” then he blushed and shrank back into himself, “If I may say so myself, [ma’am/sir].”
Your tone softened, “oh.”
<𝟑 He’d be so smitten with his alternative partner, thinking you’re breathtaking in every way.
<𝟑 The way you decorate yourself is just as fascinating to him as the politics of it all which, being as sheltered as him, he knew little about before you.
<𝟑 He doesn’t understand a lot of it, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think you’re beautiful.
<𝟑 Imagine getting him all dolled up like you one time, after hours of persistence.
“I don’t know ‘bout this, darling, I think i’m better off—“ He’d try to say before you turn his chair around to face the mirror.
You shush him. “What about now?” He looked at himself and studied his face and clothes.
“Imagine me in this old getup— I look ridiculous!” He’d almost laugh.
You release a giddy giggle, “You look amazing!”
<𝟑 These movements are very rooted in politics, so imagine dragging him to a protest. He would probably feel incredibly out of place, poor thing.
<𝟑 He’d be so blushy around you, he just thinks your so breathtaking and bold, it’s hard not to get weak in the knees when your here.
<𝟑 If you have a punk or goth band that goes with your subculture, he’d be at every show! Despite how loud it is, and even if he’s swamped in work.
<𝟑 Picture him in the back, stopping his twiddling with his mechanics to look up at you, being utterly yourself. Perfect.
( college!Ford Pines x reader || second- not first date jitters )
Ford's eyes were trained on the paper slipped into his newly bought electric typewriter, he adjusts his glasses with his palm as he types. Unsurprisingly, having six fingers on each hand helped a lot when trying to reach an essay word count.
Ford somewhat wishes he went to the library to type out his paper. His fingers were starting to cramp from making contact with the keytops of his typewriter. Maybe asking Fiddleford to tweak with how the keytops were fixed would help with the spacing? He'd have to ask later.
Ford hears a knock on the door.
He almost falls out of his chair, something under his sleeve makes a loud beep sound. It was his watch. It was supposed to remind him of something. He couldn't remember what.
"One moment!" He calls out to whoever was at the door, adjusting his glasses again. He stares at himself in the reflection of his window to check if he at least looked somewhat presentable. Ever since he woke up at nine, he's been working on his paper.
He messes with his hair to make it seem like he actually brushes it in the morning, running his fingers through it to make it look nice. "I-I'm coming!" He looks away from his reflection at the door. Whoever it was, they seemed impatient.
Surely, it wasn't that serious, the knocking seemed to get louder and louder and- oh.
He forgot about you. He also forgot that it was a Saturday. And that the paper he was working on wouldn't be due until next month.
Ford almost trips over his untied shoelace as he scrambles to answer the door.
"G-greetings." Again, Ford adjusts his glasses. This time, because he was embarrassed. He can't believe he forgot he agreed to a date. A date with you.
He smiles awkwardly, already feeling his face heating up in embarrassment.
He's red by the time you make eye contact with him, while he's trying his best to avoid making eye contact with you. "You look great." He says, not having looked toward you once. Not like he had to. He knew you probably looked better than him right now. He was still in the clothes he wore yesterday- he was too busy working on equations to change into his proper sleeping clothes. His fingers tug on the cuff of his button-up sleeve.
"And you look," you look him down from his head to his shoes. Which he most likely, also, slept in. "Comfortable." You say with slight amusement. Ford could hear the smile in your tone.
"Thanks." He replies, looking down at the floor. Ford then realizes that he's wearing his dress shoes. And that one of his laces was untied.
To avoid embarrassing himself more, and to avoid looking at you, he immediately kneels down to tie his shoe. He can feel the sweat build up around the collar of his shirt. He mentally slaps himself in the face for wearing white.
"Were you powdering your nose or something? I heard you struggling in there." You look over his back and into his dorm. You see papers sprawled out on a desk, three questionable-looking coffee mugs, chewed up pencils, and sticky notes. Everywhere. Like he was trying to remember everything.
Ford gets up, you both hear his knees crack loudly. Which wasn't normal. At all. Good grief. He needed to go out more.
"You...you can come in, if you'd like." He says, unable to stop himself from stumbling on his words. He steps to the side, once again, almost tripping on something he forgot he had put on the floor. This time, a stack of textbooks he placed next to his dresser.
"Thank you." You say in a pleasant tone, looking around the room. You couldn't tell which side of the room belonged to Ford or to his roomate. Both sides were equally messy and somewhat neat.
"My bed's uh, right there." He points to your left, to a bed with a book laid face-down on the comforter. "Don't mind my roommate's side- he's working on something right now so don't touch anything- please.”
You smile along to his words. "Sir, yes, sir." You pretend to salute him as you traverse through the room, making sure to be careful where you step.
You were going to be the death of him. And you didn't even know it yet.
"I'm going to the washroom! Uh, please excuse me!" Ford says in a tone louder than he wanted to say. He quickly turns around and makes a beeline to the bathroom. You snicker to yourself as the bathroom door closes behind him.
"I will, don't worry." You say loudly enough for him to hear over the sound of him turning on the bathroom sink. He felt stuffy. And sweaty.
"Get. Yourself. Together." He points at himself in the mirror, glasses off. He needed to calm down. He desperately needed to calm down. How did he get the second date? How?
This wasn't even the first date. He passed that base! Like what Fiddleford said! Why was he still nervous?
He splashes cold water onto his face to wake himself up, stray droplets splash onto his shirt. Looking in the mirror again, he bares his teeth at his reflection.
Ford brushes his teeth- just in case. You haven't kissed yet. But it wouldn't hurt to brush. He couldn't remember the last time he brushed his teeth. Or if he did this morning.
He wipes his mouth on his towel before looking in the mirror one last time. He looked presentable. He hoped that in your eyes, you thought the same.
Opening the bathroom door, he's met with the sight of you sitting on his bed. Looking around at all the posters he and Fiddleford hung up. Sometimes, he forgot they were even there.
"Do you like the decor? You can take a poster if you want." Ford had no idea why he was offering you one of his posters, but that's what people do on a date, right? Give each other things? Gifts?
You chuckle as you turn him down on his offer. "No thanks, I think my roomie would kill me for messing with the decor back at my dorm." Come to think of it, Ford's never actually been to your dorm before. It was always you going to him, not the other way around. Ford laughs along, not knowing what to say.
"So, are you ready for our little field trip?" You ask, watching as he stepped around the room to search for something. Ford wasn't actually looking for anything in particular- he just wanted to seem busy, so you'd think he was cool. "Field trip?" He repeats with a raised brow. "Yeah, we're going to that café with the good pumpkin lattes, remember?”
"So we're going into town, then?" He asks, slapping himself on the forehead mentally when he realizes how stupid his question must've sounded out loud. Ford could do fifth dimensional calculus but couldn't be smooth for the life of him. "Yes, we're going into town." You reply, leaning your elbows against the foot board of his bed.
"Let me grab my coat." He says, playing with the collar of his shirt as he opens his closet. To add insult to his multiple figurative injuries, several hat boxes and shoe boxes fall straight out of the closet and onto his face.
"Oh shit!" You exclaim, quickly getting up from his bed to help him.
Ford tries to angle himself in a way that wouldn't get his face squished between several hat boxes and shoes. He's never done anything this physical in years.
"Uh, here. Let me..." You carefully pull off his glasses so that they wouldn't get in the way. Carefully, you pull each box off of his person in a way that wouldn't hurt him and place each one onto the floor.
It was a silent exchange, Ford couldn't see, and you didn't really know what to say to make this feel any better.
You try your best to slip his glasses back onto his face. You almost poke him in the eye. "Sorry." You both say in unison, which makes Ford's face go red. For a man who prided himself in being an overachieving genius, he surely felt stupid now.
He stumbles back, almost falling over the boxes you set aside earlier as he reaches for his coat. "Let's go, then?" You say, watching as he folds his coat onto his arm. "Y-yes. Let's go."
For the first time ever in his life, Ford extends his arm out for you to hold onto. He keeps his fist closed as he does so. He hopes he's doing this right.
CREEPYPASTAS
Eyeless Jack with a m!s/o who cooks for him! (🍰🍪)
Eyeless Jack with s/o who's into bloodplay! (🍒)
Masky/Tim with a girly, sweet s/o! (🍰🍪)
Tim general headcanons (🍪)Laughing Jack with a girly, sweet s/o! (🍰🍪)
Laughing Jack meets tm!reader in a haunted house! (🍰🍪)
BEN with each MBTI s/o! (🍪)
BEN with s/o who has an 80s metal style! (🍰🍒🍪)
Tim Wright — NSFW Alphabet (🍒)
Tim Wright — Holiday Special (🍒)
