Das doppelte Lottchen [neglected!trouble maker!reader x Batfam x gravity falls]
EDIT: PART 2
[Note: this is more a drabble/one shot. Not sure if I'll make a second part. Neither is the story fleshed out, so.. plot holes]
[After dying once, reader meets Bill Cipher. A dream demon. He uses his powers to help them out, in exchange Reader has to help him get revenge on certain town. Now they train a replacement to take over their place in the batfam. Fem! Implied reader, though use of neutral pronouns]
[TW: abuse, neglect, death, reader drinking and smoking, harmful behavior, batfam related trauma (the usual dish of my family is a bunch of vigilantes)]
"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."
This saying was a self fulfilling prophecy if you were the child of Bruce Wayne. You vividly remember the day you first met him.
You were five. Just a second before your mother had slapped you so hard your left ear rang, the bread you had taken from the shelf tightly in your hand. You wouldn't let it go, not today.
Your stomach was growling, anger flashed in her eyes. But at least she looked at you. With anger, anguish, disappointment.. but at least she looked at you.
You didn't even hear the commotion.. and then the wall collapsed. Right in front of your eyes your mother was buried under rubble. Some villains attack. One moment she was yelling.. the next she was gone.
The masked person that arrived a moment later looked at you with pity. You stood there, with your five proud years, looking up at Batman. You didn't think of anything at the moment, but to him the masked crusader it looked so accusatory his hard shattered. He hadn't saved your parent. You must be so angry.
You were adopted. There was another Kid. Someone called Jason. From the get go, the hierarchy became clear and the fact that there was no space for you.
From the beginning you were nothing more then an annoying little shadow, that followed Bruce, Alfred, Jason and on rare occasion Dick around like a little puppy. But none of them wanted you near the cave and no matter how hard you tried there was always.. something more important than you.
So you did everything in your power to be good. At first? It worked. Bruce nodded approvingly although absentmindedly at your good grades, at your art, at your crafts. For a moment Dick was happy you took an acrobatics just for him. Look, just because you rarely saw him didn't mean he wasn't a good older brother.
Jason.. was a tougher nut to crack. But when you attended Gotham's more elite pre-schools and got bullied for "not speaking sophisticated enough" you two bonded over being from the narrows.
But.. then one day.. it didn't matter anymore.
Suddenly everything was back to the beginning and they looked through you rather then at you. Once again.. you had become a shadow. And you couldn't do anything about it.
After Jason died you tried your best to be.. good. A kid everyone could rely on. But no one did. No one needed you to be around. No one wanted you around.
When Tim came it felt like betrayal. Because Bruce.. wanted him. Needed him. But he'd never need you.
One day you stumble into the batcave. It was an accident, really. Your clumsy ten year old self had decided to take a walk through the Manor found a door you weren't supposed to open..
Long story short. You got hurt. Cut your leg up but all that didn't matter. Because for the first time in a while.. Bruce looked at you. Genuinely. With utter disappointment. But he looked at you.
And that was when you decided if you couldn't get their attention by being good. You'd get it by being bad.
Two years later, at the ripe age of twelve you had already become terrifyingly good at being.. evil. You made teachers quit their job, proudly pulled strings here and there.
"This behavior is absolutely disgraceful." Alfred once scolded you and you had rolled your eyes. Aggressively. "What are you going to do about it? Throw me out?"
Alfred had shut his mouth and you felt that like a slap to your face. Why had he gone quiet? Why wasn't he arguing. But Alfred was just the butler anyway.
Bruce got mad next. "This is not how I raised you." You scoffed and looked at him with an annoyed expression. "You didn't raise nothing!" And.. that was the end of the fight as if your words hat hurt him, but not in the way you wanted.
Everything you did, every cigarette you smoked, every party you attended was a loud "Acknowledge me, Damn it!"
But no one did. You drowned in silence. Dick didn't bother with you, you never got close to Tim. And all your trouble making was.. for nothing.
... or no.
It wasn't.
Over the time, you had built a group. A small group of kids just as neglected as you. Some rich, others not. But they all looked up to you.
One of them was Y/n. She had your name. Your face, your build. Not completely, she was a bit smaller in statue and had doe eyes that made everyone grow protective.
It was uncanny. How similar someone could be to you. She was.. your doppelgänger. And she looked at you like you hung the moon.
She trailed after you on adventures and copied everything you did. At one point even cutting her hair the same way you did.
At first you hated it. The desperate way she clung to you. But you grew to it. Because she looked at you. Like a fan. As if you were her personal idol. As if you mattered.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
You were 16.
Long past gaining your families attention by causing trouble. Now you causes trouble for yourself only. Heck, you had even successfully avoided all the newcomers to the family.
Bit peace never lasted long.
You should have noticed something was wrong when your best friend, your closest confidant started wearing that joker smile on his face.
When he no longer followed you, but a psychopathic clown.
You didn't blame him. Gotham broke you. One way, or another. Whatever lead to him joining the jokers goons... it must have been horrible.
But he was standing in front of you know. Crying, arms wrapped around you as his arms held you close. "I'm sorry." He whispered. Over and over again. "I didn't want this."
Blood spilled from his lips. The shot meant to hit you.. had gone into him instead. "Jack?" You whispered as you saw him collapse. Fall.
You don't remember what happened to you. But you remember what happened to him.
Jack was your first friend. A lonely child like you, sitting in gotham prep like it did anything. He wasn't scared of you acting out. He didn't leave you when the teachers yelled. He stood by you. The scrawny kid with glasses held onto you. Desperately.
And now he's dead.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
"What a situation." You heard a voice drawl. In the endless void of your brain you heard him. Bill Cipher.
"Great. My personal hell is a dorito? Of course." You scoffed making Bill narrow his eyes. "Personal hell? You're my personal hell! I find a power source! And its a stupid child." He scoffed. He looked tired, a crack through his pyramid body.
You look at him. "Power source?" You ask, raising a brow, crossing your arms. "I'm no power source. I'm dead." You answer dryly and the pyramid rolled its eye.
"Of course a human like you would say that." He pulls out a book. "Okay kid, what do you want."
You blink. "What?"
"I need you to escape A.X.O.L.O.T.L. and you'll get something in return. You know? Want to turn back time? I can help with that! Revenge? I can help with that. Just make a deal with me." He said holding out one hand to you.
You eye his hand worried. "Why should I trust you?" Bill shrugged. "Its either that, or dying forever kid. Pick your poison. And i can't help you till you free my physical form."
If you ever had anyone to teach you about deals with dream demons.. you would have perhaps waited with accepting the deal. But you didn't have anyone. You were your own teacher. So you took his hand and shook it.
So you found yourself awake again. In the body of your 13 year old self. And you prepared. Of course you still caused ruckus. Still caused trouble.
But you were stronger. Better.
"So, how will you leave your family?" Bill asked in your head and you grinned, watching Y/N. "I'm a good actor. A better teacher."
"Ah, you're replacing yourself?" Bill asked and you nodded. "Indeed. They won't even notice, once I am done with her. Its like ballet shoes. You just have to break them in.. and then they fit."
Y/N was desperate for a chance to get away from her family. Out of her shitty life. You were that escape. Looking at you.. she felt free. You were everything she wanted to be.
When you offered to turn her into you, she accepted. She would have done anything. Even gotten plastic surgery to make her eyes look more like yours.
She wore the mask of [____] Wayne like a crown. Like a mantle befitting of a royal. She loved being you.
No matter how harshly you treated her, how strict you were.. she endured. Because becoming you was.. a promotion. A promotion in life, handed to her on a silver platter.
The others in the group noticed what you were doing. And when you told them about the grand escape, about becoming Y/N to flee.. the others helped. They'd miss you, all of them. They were the lost boys to your peter pan.
But the only one that would accompany you was Jack. And you had hoped he would. Because you were changing your life. And his fated death.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
The switch between you and Y/N was quick. Flawless. She got picked up by Alfred, you took the bus. Yelled at her parents for her.. got kicked out.
Jack and you joined the circus. You could be very convincing. And they needed a new clown and an acrobat.
Y/N meanwhile took up your space. She wasn't bothered by the suffocated silence in the house. Because she was a stranger. A stranger that wore your face. She was just tinier and more doe eyed. No one noticed.
You part way's with Jack as you arrive in oregon. He wants to stay with the circus. You head to gravity falls. With the money you earned in the circus you were able to afford a new house. Small, run down.. but yours.
You met Soos and Wendy. You got hired as help in the mystery shack.
A year passed since you left.
You were 16.
Y/N too.
No one noticed. No.. that was wrong.
Damian noticed. Things didn't add up about Y/N. Things that had been inheritly you. The loud bolterous aura that demanded attention. The way you'd smell of cigarettes.
Y/N was none of that.
Tim noticed next.
Because Y/N could pretend to be you. But she missed things that were invisible to the outside.
She wad the perfect [____]. Until she wasn't.
But no one could demand answers.
Because Y/N claimed to be you. She had your diaries. She knew you on a fundamental level. A level your family never reached.
No matter how hard they probed, poked.. and blooded.
“in the name of knowledge,” Ford says, breathing heavily
AO3 link
tags: nsfw, smut, journaling, Ford's pov, she/her used for reader, fem anatomy, scientific observation of sexual activity, congratulations we are back to ford pines explorer uterus, reader as research subject, explicit anatomical descriptions, pervy Ford, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, rough & gentle sex, panty sniffing, vaginal fluids analysis
writing this almost killed me bc english isn’t my first language and i had to google 12 different euphemisms for “pussy” gosh. but still it was fun and difficult for me, especially in a second language, so i hope it came through well. if it made you laugh or feel things (or both), i did my job. + i apologise in advance to scientists and native english speakers. i did my best
reblogs/comments are always highly appreciated, ty!!
JOURNAL ENTRY 4978-F. PRIVATE FIELD NOTES ON SUBJECT’S SEXUAL BEHAVIORAL RESPONSES TO AFFECTION AND INTIMACY-DRIVEN VOCALIZATIONS
BY STANFORD F. PINES
this is an unofficial continuation of Journal Entry 4876-B, the menstruation study, which, to my genuine relief, remains undiscovered by my darling. as of yet. i have hidden it between chapters on interdimensional corrosion and rogue slime molds, hoping she never looks there.
SUBJECT OVERVIEW:
this ongoing personal study aims to classify, track, and, LET'S BE HONEST, OBSESSIVELY document the behavioral and physiological responses of subject my love during prolonged exposure to physical affection and erotic stimulation.
As always, i am beginning this document purely for the sake of scientific rigor. i want that stated clearly, for the record. this is not indulgence. this is NOT a coping mechanism. this is research. on what, exactly? well. myself, unfortunately. more specifically: my escalating, deeply inconvenient, possibly pathological attraction to [REDACTED], hereafter referred to as the subject, or less professionally, darling, sweetheart, my love
PHYSIOLOGICAL RESPONSE.
this is where the analysis turns... unpleasant. for me.
whenever i am within a 1.5-meter radius of the subject, my autonomic nervous system goes haywire.
SYMPTOMS INCLUDE
• increased heart rate (avg resting BPM: 62 to avg BPM around her: 104)
• sweaty palms (i left a smudge on her coffee mug and then had to invent an excuse to wipe it off. it was very awkward)
• pupil dilation (confirmed via mirror)
• spontaneous erection (this one is self-explanatory and utterly humiliating)
JOURNAL ENTRY. PSYCHOSEXUAL & LINGUISTIC RESPONSE ANALYSIS OF subject MY DARLING
ENTRY DATE: [Redacted for Security]
SUBJECT: (name redacted, referred to throughout alternately as “subject” “my darling” “my sweetheart”)
STATUS: fully consenting romantic partner. Unaware of entry, praise be to the veil of academic secrecy.
PRIOR STUDIES: See Journal 47-B, Subsection “Endometrial Phases and Erotic Behavior,” Entry 1. Subject has not yet located nor confiscated said journal. Miraculous !
RESEARCH FOCUS:
Neurophysiological & Behavioral Responses to Romantic Stimuli; affective touch & verbal cue conditioning; psychoacoustic analysis of pet names; intimate preferences (ongoing. intensely ongoing.)
HYPOTHESIS:
The subject exhibits measurable reactions in physiological arousal, facial microexpression, and dermal flushing when exposed to emotionally-loaded stimuli, particularly verbal affection in the form of personalized pet names. additionally, certain bodily configurations (positions, gestures, postures of submission or control) appear to generate a disproportionately intense emotional or sensual response. this may point toward a deeper neurological kink schema I intend to examine further. extensively.
FIELD OBSERVATION: #003
Experiment was conducted organically, i.e., in the throes of affectionate interaction, post sex cuddling session, midweek.
Upon softly uttering the phrase “that’s my good girl” during a moment of positive reinforcement (in this case, subject performing an extremely dexterous act with her tongue and two fingers, ref. Diagram 7), subject’s eyes dilated 0.6mm wider than baseline pupil diameter. Skin of cheeks turned a faint shade approximately Pantone 182 C. Notable tremble in the lower lip, coupled with immediate increase in breath rate (from 12 bpm to approx. 18 bpm).
footnote: that specific phrase appears to create a Pavlovian response. subject becomes pliant, warm-blooded and markedly affectionate. application in future praise/breeding-focused sessions advised.
SIDE NOTE: gods above and below, it’s a magic spell. i should patent it.
FIELD OBSERVATION: #004. affection-based conditioning via touch & praise
During spontaneous acts of nonsexual intimacy (e.g., hand on lower back, casual handholding, forehead kisses), subject exhibits subtle pelvic shifting toward the source of contact. This occurs even when she’s multitasking (cleaning, speaking on phone, brushing teeth), this indicates autonomic system override, body moving subconsciously toward touch.
my sweetheart is, quite scientifically, touch-starved and praise-motivated. operant conditioning is underway. i reward her with touch.
FIELD OBSERVATION: #005. verbal stimuli and titling response
pet names tested thus far: my darling, my starlight, my love, my good girl, sweetheart, my clever girl, beautiful thing, my treasure, baby (yes, see below for details). of these, “good girl” and “beautiful thing” yielded the strongest involuntary reactions, both physical and vocal. subject’s thighs pressed together post-verbal delivery in both instances.
“baby” on the other hand, was met with a crinkle of the nose and a muttered “ugh, that one’s so generic”. just saying, i don't use this word often, if at all, and it was said purely out of curiosity about my partner's reaction!
RESEARCH SCOPE: examination of the psycho-physical ramifications of various sexual positions
I. the lateral configuration (commonly occurring in early morning hours)
description: partner lies on side, back pressed flush to chest, legs aligned, bodies forming parallel curvature. this often happens just after subject wakes, still sleepy. my arm slips beneath her neck, other hand free to explore.
NOTABLE EFFECTS:
• optimal for slow penetration. allows for direct manual stimulation of subject’s external genitalia. clitoral stimulation via middle and ring finger proves effective at increasing arousal threshold.
• penile angle slightly limited but creates increased friction against posterior vaginal wall.
subject status: often warm and pliant, cortisol levels low, oxytocin high. minimal verbal response, but soft moaning, breath hitches and thigh twitching are reliable indicators of pleasure.
initiator: 65% subject (by pressing her hips back into me first), 35% myself (unable to resist)
orgasm frequency: subject typically first, especially when paired with whispered praise. myself after. sometimes, to avoid wasting time in the shower, i spill into my hand, with the help of my partner.
II. the deep fold configuration (colloquially: mating press)
subject position: supine. legs elevated and bent at the knees, pressed against subject’s chest or folded over shoulders. pelvis tilted upward.
researcher position: above subject, hips aligned to maximize downward thrust angle. arms on either side of torso or gripping thighs.
NOTABLE EFFECTS:
• subject's anterior pelvic tilt increases canal depth by ~2.3cm.
• entry angle permits direct contact with posterior fornix and, depending on thrust depth and hip velocity, occasional contact with cervix. (MONITOR FOR DISCOMFORT)
• full bodyweight leverage permits controlled, high-pressure thrusts.
• high friction zone engagement along entire vaginal wall.
• compression of clitoral region possible when subject’s legs press inward, friction via pubic bone contact.
• subject’s hands often reach overhead or grip my wrists; potential autonomic submission indicator???
orgasm frequency
• subject status: slicker than usual. pupil dilation extreme. breasts engorged. clitoral hood retracts without direct contact, clear arousal marker!!
subject: usually first, often cries or gasps. pelvic tremors observed.
self: delayed climax due to overfocus on control. I tend to hold back to watch her shake. It’s.... yes.
initiator notes:
• predominantly myself. used when ive been edged by her teasing or prolonged kissing.
• applied after periods of absence, emotional intensity, or when she wears that damn dress.
PERSONAL NOTE: i hate how much I like that one, i can push so deep... should never try this pose unless we are alone at home. the sounds coming from both of us are too loud.
III. the forward-bend over surface configuration
subject position: upright, torso supported against surface (desk, rock, workbench, etc.). hips angled downward, legs spread.
researcher position: behind, standing or semi-crouched depending on height differential and surface elevation.
SPINAL MECHANICS & ENTRY ANGLES
• subject’s lumbar lordosis naturally increases, arching spine and presenting gluteal area prominently.
• angle of insertion aligns shaft with posterior vaginal wall, intense friction, minimal cervix contact unless aggressively deep.
• my darling may grip edges of support surface, bracing body. exhibits backward hip propulsion and sustained thigh constriction
• clitoral stimulation minimal unless fingers used
• my love highly sensitive in this pose when pressure applied to hips or when hair is pulled lightly (neurological link to scalp stimulation observed)
• best combined with one-handed clitoral rubbing or anal thumb pressure for maximal response.
either method appears to induce involuntary pelvic tilting and vocal escalation (“fuck, Ford, please do that again—“) which may be attributable to overlapping nerve clusters (see pudendal and perineal branches).
ejaculation possible; vaginal fluid secretion increased. will test again under lab conditions with towel placement beneath hips.
orgasm data:
subject: reaches her peak best with secondary stimulation. highly vocal, feral-sounding moans.
self: climax comes fast. visual stimulation too high, i love my darling's back, hips, the sounds she makes.
SIDE NOTE: I have no dignity left, i can’t look at that desk without my hands shaking. The stain on the wood where her cheek laid. I am unwell.
IV. the seated straddle (usually in chair or lap-based context)
description: Partner mounts me from above, legs straddling either side. Full control granted to subject. often occurs spontaneously in non-bed environments (desk, study chair)
NOTABLE EFFECTS:
• clitoral stimulation from pelvic friction.
• my darling dictates speed and depth. im just a man for use
• psychological stimulation extreme. subject appears emboldened, smirking, uses hands in commanding ways (gripping my jaw, tugging hair, etc), stops any attempts by me to thrust my hips up knowing how much i want to
• my love is sensitive to spanking during this pose. It's not that i do it myself, she calls me to do it
• bites me when i won’t let her on top. says “ill ride you if i want” and who am I to refuse her?
• subject status: highly confident. pelvis rocks forward, pressing against base of shaft, creating devastating pressure. nipples visibly erect, voice huskier.
initiator: 100% my darling. always surprises me.
orgasm frequency: hers first, almost always. sometimes twice, when she needs it too much. i barely last though.
side note: don't want to admit it, but this pose is my weakness. i LOVE looking at my partner's body too much when she's on top, i love it when she initiates kisses and bites my neck, leaving marks. she always says im too loud when she rides me. i love the weight of her thighs and the way she bounces sometimes, im afraid i could write academic essays on her technique.
V. the face-down configuration (subject on stomach, hips elevated via pillow or hands)
description: subject lies on stomach or chest, hips raised via manual positioning or cushion. entry achieved from behind, bodyweight distributed over subject’s back.
NOTABLE EFFECTS:
• angle presses shaft against anterior wall. when timed with thrust rhythm, this pose produces prolonged contact for her sensitive spots.
• breasts pressed against bedding, so subject appears overstimulated, often grasps sheets or hides face.
• cervical pressure high. adjust thrust depth to avoid discomfort.
subject status: tactile responses heightened. her legs are shaking too much in this pose. vaginal canal contracts in intervals... must measure this better.
initiator: surprisingly, but its me. usually after subject teases me excessively.
orgasm frequency: subject second, sometimes she tries to stimulate herself thinking that i can't see her hand between her legs, but I prefer to remove it, replacing it with mine. her cries get muffled in pillow, must ensure airway clearance. yes, of course Ford, that's why in a fit of stupid lust you once lifted her head by the hair!
side note: sadly, i lose control. every time... there's just something feral about the way her back arches, how my darling whimpers into her own wrist. long, deep, bone-shaking thrusts until my sweetheart is limp. her condition (physical & mental) after this pose worries me greatly because she cannot speak and is shaking all over, only smiling stupidly. i have to apologize afterward and she always says “do it again“
JOURNAL ENTRY. BIOLOGICAL VULNERABILITIES, SAFETY PROTOCOLS, AND PLEASURE-INDUCED PHYSIOLOGICAL RESPONSES
SUBJECT: im smiling while writing this, but as always, it's my darling. my beloved.
STUDY FIELD: microbiological health, vaginal ecology, tissue trauma prevention, post sexual intercouse recovery tracking, and oral/manual technique effectiveness.
I. VAGINAL ENVIRONMENTAL BALANCE. ACIDITY, LUBRICATION, AND RESPONSIBLE ENTRY
subject maintains a healthy vaginal pH in the range of 3.8 to 4.5, consistent with normative vaginal acidity standards in individuals with typical female reproductive anatomy.
this acidic environment is crucial for the prevention of bacterial vaginosis and candidiasis. (side note: no yeast infections to date, my darling is healthy, yay)
pre sex protocol. this is written by me and for myself only. sometimes i... get too excited, so i prefer to make a plan that i will follow.
• always wash hands thoroughly (including under nails).
• oral flora is less risky than manual flora, but still note to self: brush teeth before eating her out, you absolute idiot.
• use of saliva as lubricant is avoided unless during mutual arousal; preferred lubrication is subject’s own secretions, which increase significantly around mid-cycle ovulation. can confirm !! i once skipped dinner to just stay between her thighs for 23 minutes. no regrets except the cramp in my neck. worth it
II. ROUGH INCIDENT. FILE UNDER: “SHAME”
there was one evening, post-expedition, high adrenaline, limited clothing, excessive mutual arousal, where subject and i engaged in intercourse against a tree trunk.
i should admit, this was not planned, no matter how many hours a day i spend dreaming of touching my partner. we had no blanket, so her spine pressed to bark. and i did not assess for insects or moss. entry occurred before thorough lubrication could be ensured.
post-incident findings. (i had to check my partner, even though she kept saying she wanted to do it again because, according to her, “rough feral Ford is hot”. silly)
• minor thigh abrasions (healed without intervention).
• mild inner soreness reported next morning.
• thankfully, no tearing, no blood, but subject limped adorably. i wanted to expire.
response protocol (updated):
• NEVER initiate without at least 90 seconds of foreplay.
• always carry blanket, antiseptic wipes, portable lube (unscented, glycerin-free). check bark texture. avoid pine sap. for the love of science, Stanford, think with your upper brain.
side note: I hate myself for that. She said she was fine but i could see the way she walked. i got so caught up... i lost control. not acceptable. not again. unless... she asks... very nicely. which she will. and then what? then what, Stanford?
III. MUTUAL FINGER STIMULATION. TECHNIQUES, VARIABILITY, AND SENSORY OUTCOMES
subject exhibits high sensitivity in clitoral glans and surrounding hood area. best approached with indirect stimulation at first, stroking alongside hood, not directly on top.
methods employed with consistent success:
• two-finger horizontal rubbing along clitoral shaft (index and middle, circular motion, low pressure at first)
• V-shaped finger split. middle finger inside canal, index gliding over clitoris in tandem
• curling motion once inside, aiming for anterior vaginal wall while palm rocks against clitoral region
• thumb-to-clit pressure during penetrative fingering. best when rhythm syncs with thrusts, judging by my partner's moana
timing observations:
• subject prefers slow, teasing pace at first, begins gripping bedsheets once pace increases.
• when she whines and her hips cant upward, that's the threshold. increase pressure. maintain rhythm.
• my darling says my hands are “too big for this”, translation “don’t stop”. (from experience)
side note #1: my hand got numb. i was happy.
side note #2: my darling holds my wrist when I rub her clitoris. I find this detail too cute.
IV. ORAL TECHNIQUE OPTIMIZATION. LINGUAL STRATEGIES FOR SUBJECT’S PLEASURE
• her clitoris responds best to broad strokes of the tongue, flat surface, not pointed tip. gentle suction produces full-body shudders, which I found too attractive, causing me to ejaculate prematurely. it was awkward to finish without stimulation other than rubbing against the bed...
• humming softly (resonance vibration) increases blood flow and evokes a keening sound.
a plan on how to please my partner. learn by heart
• begin with teasing licks along labia majora.
• slide tongue upward, avoiding direct clit contact initially. makes her cry and beg, which makes me feel somewhat guilty for enjoying it
• ontroduce suction + rhythmic flicking at apex of arousal.
• insert two fingers concurrently, curl toward her sensitive spot.
• use thumb /nose pressure for additional clitoral nudge
resulting data:
• subject's legs shake uncontrollably when stimulation lasts longer than 5 minutes.
a mandatory section of my research down below, for the safety of my love's health i must write this down for myself so I don't forget.
MISCELLANEOUS SAFETY MEASURES FOR FOREST SEXUAL ENCOUNTERS.
subject and i, Stanford F Pines, frequently find ourselves aroused during field work. exposure to moss, bark, damp surfaces increases risk of microbial transfer or splinters. therefore:
emergency forest (outdoors) sexual intercouse checklist:
• blanket, clean towel, witch hazel wipes, lubricant, thermos (warm water) for aftercare rinse, soft edible snack for blood sugar replenishment (for both of us. now i keep granola bars in my coat), condoms (usually unused, but...)
well then, Stanford, you think years of surviving other dimensions would prepare you for everything in the world. but apparently, my sweetheart made me me lose IQ points.
ADDENDUM TO HEALTH OBSERVATIONS. PRIVATE TEXTILE SAMPLE STUDY (UNAUTHORIZED)
ENTRY STATUS: NOT to be included in main sequence of documentation. this is for my eyes only.
OBJECT OF ANALYSIS:
subject’s most recently laundered and subsequently worn lower undergarment. fabric density indicates frequent use. recovered from laundry pile under pretense of cleaning assistance. (I am a liar. I did not intend to wash it.)
i cannot refer to this item by its colloquial term. let’s call it the cotton sample.
I. COLLECTION METHOD:
Item was collected post-wear, during late evening hours, prior to intended laundering cycle. heat from subject’s body still embedded in central gusset.
no visual staining beyond expected, however, a faint translucent secretion had marked the interior. not visible to naked eye under poor lighting, but evident via touch and scent.
SCENT COMPOSITION ANALYSIS
• high concentration of lactic acid and urea traces.
• mucosal residue containing epithelial cells and vaginal secretions consistent with arousal-phase lubrication.
• minor traces of dried sweat near waistband; negligible relevance.
OLFACTORY PROFILE:
• tangy-sweet. musky. pungent in a way that activated my hypothalamus with frightening immediacy.
II. ANALYSIS & PERSONAL MISCONDUCT
in the end, i brought the item to my study. I claimed it was to confirm pH through basic litmus testing. This was a lie.
within 47 seconds, I had undone my trousers. I held the cotton sample beneath my nose, breathing in the residual warmth, traced the inner seam with my fingertips. I remembered my darling still wearing it as she read a book today, then boiled water and bent over to pick something up. (my neurons short-circuited.)
personal compromise occurred. I WRAPPED, no, I had to wrap the item around my penis shaft slowly after long inhalation, which caused an involuntary reaction in my lower body, making my penis shaft swell with blood.
SIDE NOTE: this is disgusting. i am disgusting. This is not acceptable behavior and i am aware of the ethical violation. I should report myself to an oversight board but the only oversight here is mine. i came in under 60 seconds, holding my darling's cotton sample, smearing myself in her scent. This is inappropriate behavior, i should be doing my research about the anomaly I caught yesterday in the forest near the lake, not sniffing my partner’s underwear like a pervert in heat. But Holy Moses, i would do it again.
III. POST-EJACULATORY DATA (AND SHAME):
• as expected, sample was stained with seminal fluid (mine). i attempted to wash it by hand using unscented soap.
• it still smells like her, but slightly. I folded it and returned it to the laundry bin. my sweetheart will never know.
NOTE: do not label this act as “masturbation” in my notes. call it “physiological response management.” unfortunately, the lie soothed nothing.
PHYSIOLOGICAL AFTEREFFECTS:
• residual arousal lingered for 3.2 hours.
• fuilt level measured at 8.9/10.
• self-perception plummeted.
• refractory period unusually short (possibly due to tactile connection with subject’s scent profile).
JOURNAL ENTRY. SUBJECTIVE STIMULUS-RESPONSE PREFERENCES, COMPILED FROM FIELD OBSERVATION AND POST-EXPERIMENT REFLECTIONS
PREAMBLE: this is an analysis of the subject’s, my partner’s, observed and expressed preferences in erotic activity, gathered via post sex discussion, live anatomical assessment, and deeply unethical mental replay (and, unfortunately, a handful of data recovered during frantic self-stimulatory recollection, but I digress). For organizational purposes, the structure is divided as follows: 1) Roughness & Control 2) Oral Activi— entry ends here. my beloved has entered the room, and I must momentarily step away
ROUGHNESS & CONTROL
My starlight exhibits fluctuations in arousal responsiveness corresponding to psychological and likely hormonal cycles, during which they express distinct cravings for physically intense stimulation. these often include requests for manual cervical pressure, choking, hair manipulation, or abrupt pelvic thrusting. My reaction is to... panic whenever these preferences surface.
PERSONAL NOTE: just to make myself clear, I fear injuring my partner.
above all else, Im a scientist, not a savage! but she uses a dishonest method, a puppy look and a gentle tone that begins to beg. and unfortunately, i falter. I apply pressure, cautiously, always monitoring her pulse. I hate myself for how hard I get from it.
During these phases, the subject initiates with visible body language: bared neck, splayed limbs, intentional provocation (i.e. verbally requesting me to “pin [her] down” or “make it hurt”) Refractory periods appear shorter post-session, possibly due to a hormonal cocktail of adrenaline and dopamine.
UNPLANNED VOCALIZATION ANALYSIS ! ! !
• subject emits a wide range of sounds, most commonly: hitched moans (a-ahh, hhnn), breathy sighs, ragged laughter when overstimulated
• panting my name [ “Ford, Ford, Ford” ] usually when my darling is on top of me, riding or grinding against my body
• talks a lot during climax. filthy & surreal things. phrases that i can't repeat here unless i want to combust.
note: i do not discourage this. in fact, i may have recorded one such session. for scientific accuracy only.
ORAL ACTIVITY. ANATOMICAL ENGAGEMENT AND GLANDULAR RESPONSE
Subject expresses persistent oral fixation, both as a receiver and provider. They often initiate oral sex on myself, typically during early morning or late evening hours. duration can last up to 7–13 minutes before ejaculation unless manually redirected.
NOTE: my love insists on swallowing, and in some way I'm glad that she can read my thoughts. metaphorically, of course, I hope not literally. she says it’s easier that way. I don’t even know what to say. the sight alone, my legs practically give out.
Reciprocally, the subject reacts with pronounced pelvic tilting and adductor muscle spasms when I stimulate her labial structures with tongue and lips, especially the anterior region of the clitoral hood. Lingual stimulation in combination with insertion of two fingers (palmar side upward, curling motion) typically results in rapid climax.
The subject frequently initiates friction-based stimulation through clothing. Mechanically, this act lacks direct skin contact but appears to produce substantial arousal in the subject, especially when seated on my lap.
FIELD NOTE: my partner once came like this, just through grinding. through denim. denim! meanwhile, I ruined my only good pants. honestly... not my proudest orgasm. i don't understand why my partner likes the fact that I finish in my clothes and not inside her.
while inefficient for my own release, this activity seems to provide psychological comfort to the subject, especially during emotionally vulnerable states.
tactile stimulation of the cervical and thoracic dermatomes (neck, collarbones, shoulders) consistently provokes moaning, muscle fluttering, and intentional pressing into contact. I use my mouth to stimulate these areas with suction and teeth. her nipples, especially the left, are extremely reactive to oral manipulation and require little pressure to induce limb trembling and involuntary pelvic elevation.
NOTE: I could write a dissertation on her nipple to vocal pitch ratio. But that would be weird. So I won’t. (Yet.)
FINGERING NOTES: i typically begin with a single digit, gradually expanding to two, then three, using firm, upward pressure toward the anterior vaginal wall, approximating stimulation of the g spot region. concurrent thumb pressure on the external clitoris generates a peak response. on average, my darling climaxes in 90–160 seconds under optimal conditions. but I prefer to prolong her pleasure even though she says that i torture her. how unfair!
following extensive documentation of my darling’s somatic, behavioral, and neurochemical responses to erotic stimuli, across various conditions, environments, and positional variables, I consider this entry conclusive for this phase of observation.
All measurable data indicates mutual satisfaction, emotional security, and extremely high sexual compatibility!
her preferences continue to evolve, so do mine.
accordingly, I predict a minimum of twelve to twenty-seven additional studies over the next fiscal quarter, as her affective, biochemical, and psychological novelty shows no sign of plateauing.
for now, this document stands as a complete and satisfying record of our shared intimacy. though the subject herself remains... incomprehensibly addictive.
Further research will be inevitable. I await it eagerly.
If you honestly think Ford didn't keep a photograph of you on his person during his time in the multiverse like a soldier keeping a locket with a picture of their lover during a war, think again.
Ford keeps a picture of you in one of his coat pockets ALWAYS. Even when he was in other dimensions it was always with him. (He lined the pocket with steel so it couldn't get destroyed. He didn't want to forget what you look like.) When he came back he was OBSESSED with taking pictures of you/drawing pictures of you.
Stan keeps one of you in his wallet, he shows it off all the time. It's a terrible picture of you that he took with a polaroid camera when you first woke up one morning, Mabel has a copy of it in one of her scrapbooks. He also keeps pictures of you and the rest of the family throughout the house/gift shop.
They're so cutie patootie.
The twins with a mother figure? Those kids are all around saving the world, someone needs to seriously worry about them and make a little fuss lol maybe the mother figure is Stanley or Stanford new wife? I just imagine the twins coming back next summer and boom new mother/aunt
Heartbreak, Heartbreak
Stanford x Reader / Dipper & Mable x Mother!Reader
✦ your stanfords wife whaatt?!
✦ i feel like this is one of my weaker works, i apologize
✦ 2,5k words
✦ fem reader
✦ gulp i hope i did ur request justice 😭
✦ mable goes "stop fighting!!" at some point
✦ requests r still deliciously open
꣑୧ Coming back to Gravity Falls was a dream come true for the twins. What they weren’t expecting was to see their Great Uncle Ford walk in the Mystery Shack hand in hand with you. Mable was the first to bombard you Grunkle with questions; which stemmed from “Oh my god, when did you guys meet?” to “Oh my god, oh my god, am I going to have Great Cousins? That sounds weird, doesn’t it?” Ford had to calm her down before she got too rowdy with their questions and overwhelm you.
꣑୧ Once Mable was calm enough to sit down in the same room with you, without bursting in her seat with excitement, was when Ford broke the news. “Mable, Dipper. This is my wife,” He said, wrapping his arms around you, his hand moving up and down your arm in a soothing manner. You introduced yourself to the twins who were more than happy to meet you.
꣑୧ “Did our Grunkle by some chance, manage to hypnotize you into dating him with a book?” Dipper asked with an analyzing stare. His lips were puckered, pointer finger and thumb on his chin, tapping it curiously. Not expecting a question as absurd as that, you let out a laugh. Shaking your head, you smiled at Dipper. “Not at all,” You respond, taking Ford’s hand with yours, intertwining your fingers together. “He just won me over with his nerdy charm.” You say, your eyes locked on Ford. A rush of blood swarmed Ford’s cheeks. A chorus of groans echoed in the shack. Stan appears behind the kids, resting his arms on the top of their chairs. “See, kids,” He motions over to you and Ford with a swipe of his hand. “This is what I had to deal with while you guys were gone.” With a sympathetic look, Mable rested her hand on his arm, shaking her head sorrowfully. “I’m so sorry, Grunkle Stan.”
꣑୧ After the initial shock wore off, Dipper and Mable began to grew skeptical of you. What if you were one of Bill’s goons disguising yourself as a human? And your goal was to take down their Grunkles and start Weirdmageddon 2?! Rushing up to their room in the attic, they pulled out their trusty 8-ball, the one they used the first day they arrived at Gravity Falls and when they were unsure if they were safe to stay with Grunkle Stan. They both sat down on the floor, 8-ball in Dipper’s hand. “Okay, magic 8-ball!” Mable boomed loudly with a weird amalgamation of a British and French accent. “Mable, keep it down.” Dipper shushed. “Oops,” Mable giggled. “Okay, magic 8-ball,” She whispered, her head uncomfortably close to the 8-ball. “Is Grunkle Ford’s wife evil?” With a rapid shake, Dipper and Mable peered into the ball. A pyramid accompanied with words appeared. “Don’t count on it.” The twins read out loud. “Huh…” Mable slowly nodded her head, eyes squinted in thought. “Well,” Dipper tossed the 8-ball behind him. “The magic 8-ball never lies.”
꣑୧ Getting along with the twins wasn’t hard. All you had to do was grab your car keys from your purse, jingle them as if they were a bell and wait. Few minutes later, you’d hear their feet stomping down the stairs and a flash of colors swarming the living room. “I heard keys jingle, I heard keys jingle!!” Mable’s eyes darted around the room in search of the keys and when her eyes landed on you, her eyes sparkled with joy and anticipation. “Are you taking us somewhere, Great Aunt [Name]?” You smiled, spinning the keys around your finger. “Depends,” You pretended to think for a moment, just to keep them on their toes. “Where would you guys like to go?” A laugh escapes you as Dipper and Mable attack you with where they want to go. “Alright, let me tell your Grunkle that I’m taking you guys out.” Digging through your purse, you fish out your phone. You turned it on and went to your contacts. With a tap, you dialed his number. He picked up almost immediately. “Yes, dear?” You could hear his pencil scribbling on a piece of paper. “I’m taking Dipper and Mable out for the day.” You tell him, mouthing to the kids to get in the car. They scampered out of the living room and to the hallway. You could hear the door open and their hushed voices as they made a beeline to your car. “Okay, be safe when you’re driving and call me whenever you can, okay?” You hummed in response. “Of course, I’ll keep you updated on the kids.” You say, walking out of the shack and to your car. “I want updates on how you feel too,” You could feel the love dripping from his tone. “I will, my love.” You blow a kiss into the phone, wishing Ford goodbye. He blows one back and the call ends. Entering the car, you look behind you to see the twins all buckled up and ready for their adventure. “You guys ready?” “Yeah!”
꣑୧ “So, Dipper, what’s with those dots on your arm?” You point at the four dots on his arm with a fry. Dipper looked down to his arm. His eyebrows rise in shock. “I-I completely forgot I had these,” Dipper’s thumbs the scars, an uneasy look on his face. Your heart stops in your chest. “I’m so sorry, Dipper. I didn’t mean to make–’ Dipper’s hands raise up to his chest, waving them side to side, dismissing your concerns. He assured you that your question didn’t make him uncomfortable. “No, no! It’s just…” He rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “He got possessed by a demon!” Mable blurts out, stuffing her face with a greasy burger. “Mable!” Dipper whines. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t handle you beating around the bush any longer.” She says with a mouthful of chewed up food. You leaned yourself back in the booth, trying to assess what Mable just said. “Dipper got possessed?” You repeated in a question. “Yeah, I kinda did.” Dipper said with a slight voice crack. “Can I know how?” Disbelief was thick in your tone. You didn’t know whether to laugh or walk away in shock. They don’t look like they’re telling a joke? The way Dipper has his head slightly hung low and a tiny frown on his face proved that. But Mable seems as jolly as ever. You fight with yourself, trying to make sense of what happened when Dipper spoke up. “Have you heard of the name Bill Cipher?” Shaking your head no, the twins dove straight into a very long story pertaining to Bill Cipher and how he tormented them throughout summer last year and ultimately led to the world almost ending. “Wow,” Was all that you could mutter. You never got your question about Dipper’s scar answered that day.
꣑୧ Laying in bed, you eyes drifted over to Ford who was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “You wanna know something crazy the twins told me earlier today?” Ford spat out the toothpaste into the sink. “What did those knuckleheads tell you?” He said, cupping his hand under the running faucet and filling his hand up with water. “It was this really crazy story,” You started. Ford nodded, dunking the water in his mouth and sloshing it around. “They told me about this interdimensional demon named Bill Cipher?--” Ford spit out the water in shock, spraying it everywhere on the mirror. You sat up in surprise. “Ford?” You pushed the blankets off of you and walked over to Ford, your hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” With a forced, “mhm,” he wiped the dripping water from his lips with his forearm. “Y-yeah, no. I’m fine.” He waved you off, nodding his head vigorously, almost as if he was convincing himself that everything was fine. “Are you sure?” Concern laced your voice. Someone who’s fine wouldn’t spit out their water like that at the mention of…Bill Cipher? That’s when it clicked for you. “You have history with this demon as well, don’t you?” Ford groaned, running his hands down his face. “Those kids can’t keep their mouths shut, can they?” He mumbled to himself, his head turning to face you. “What else did they tell you?” That night, you spent it horrified with the tales he told you regarding the past summer and his time with Bill. “And you never told me this, why?” Ford nervously pushed his glasses up, his eyes looking everywhere but you. “Because I…” He trailed off. “I don’t know,” He stops for a moment, inhaling deeply before continuing. “I didn’t want to scare you off. My past...isn’t something I could easily tell you without having a second thought.” A frown pulls to your lips. “Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask, your voice frail and quiet. “Yes?” His tone was full of uncertainty. You didn’t know what to think. One side of you wanted to be mad at him for keeping all of this from you, but on the other hand you felt sympathetic. You knew this wasn’t an easy topic to discuss normally. And you could tell it took him a lot of courage to admit a side of him that he wasn’t fully ready to reveal. But you were deeply hurt that he kept such secrets from you for a long time. And considering how he responded to your question, you weren’t even sure he was going to tell you any time soon. “What are you thinking about?” Ford’s voice ripped you out from your thoughts, grounding you back to reality. “I’m thinking about how crazy all of this is. I didn’t know. The kids went through so much at a young age. A-and you act like it was nothing, they could’ve died Ford.” Your hand rested on the side of your forehead. “You also made a deal with a demon? I…” You let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Stanford.” Ford cringed at the use of his full name. “I can go, if you’d like me to.” You raised your hand up to stop him. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just need time to process this,” You offer him a weak smile. “That’s all I need right now my love, just time.”
꣑୧ “You what?!” Mable and Dipper both screech at the same time. “Yeesh, Ford. And I thought I was a screw-up.” Stan chuckled, elbowing Mable to see if that got a rise from her. It did not. “I thought I was protecting her from all of this madness!” Ford’s elbow rested on the dining room table, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Grunkle Stan tried doing the same thing, did you see how that almost ended for us?” Dipper said. “I know, I know.” Ford weakly muttered out. “Then, why did you keep such important details away from her?” Stan argued. “Because I was trying to protect her!” Ford yelled, slamming his hands on the table. That seemed to get a rise from Stan. “Well, maybe you weren’t trying hard enough! Now, look at what you did. You fucked everything up.” He shouted. “Oh!” Ford stood up from his chair. “That’s hilarious coming from you!” Scrambling up the table, Mable slammed her foot down, gaining the attention from Ford and Stan. “Fighting isn’t going to fix things, guys.” She said, “Ford had his reasons, like how you had your reasons for hiding Grunkle Ford from us, Grunkle Stan.” Ford adjusted his sweater, sitting back down on his chair. “Now, Grunkle Ford. What did she tell you?” She asked, turning over to Ford. “She told me that she needed time.” Sitting crossed-crossed, she nodded her head intently. “That’s good, right?” In return was silence. “Right, guys?” Both Dipper and Stan agreed. “Great! Now while we wait, can we apologize to each other for acting so mean and for swearing.” She directed a look to Stan who scoffed.
꣑୧ And wait they did. After a couple of days, Ford’s phone randomly started ringing. Rushing to pick it up, he lifted his phone to see you calling him. He gulped nervously, suddenly second guessing himself. Should he pick up the phone? If he does, what if it’s you telling him that you want a divorce? Or that you need a break, or that– “Grunkle Ford!” Dipper snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Answer!” He pointed to the phone. “I got it!” Mable sang out, swiping her finger to the right. There was a beat of silence. Mable and Dipper anxiously waited for at least you or him to speak. One of them was about to intrude, no longer able to withstand such silence when you spoke up. “My love?” Your voice was timid. Ford’s heart lunged to his throat. How he missed your voice. “Y-Yes?” He mentally punched himself for stuttering like a complete fool in front of you. “Can you open the door for me? It’s locked.” Without a second thought, Ford practically ran over to the door and whipped it open for you. The twins watched you and him silently talk to each other from a distance. After a few tearful words and hugs, they recoil in disgust when they see Ford swoop you in for a kiss. “Oh my eyes!” Mable dramatically exclaimed. “Gross.” Dipper made a face in disgust.
꣑୧ “I’m still mad at Ford for roping you kids into all that madness.” You tell the kids, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. “Dawww, don’t you worry about us.” Mable put a hand to her cheek bashfully. “We can handle it.” You found that hard to believe. “Is Gravity Falls still…crazy?” You whisper the last part, in case Bill Cipher is listening. You’ve only heard stories of him, but hearing what he has done rooted a new fear in you. “Kind of? There’s still weird things that happen here, but not as bad as last summer.” Dipper said, jotting down a few notes in his journal. “How come I’ve never seen anything weird?” You wondered. “Because you’re too busy making out with Grunkle Ford to notice anything!” Mable chirped, kicking her feet as she drew on colored piece of paper. That elicited a laugh from Dipper and a “What!” Ford walked in with an eyebrow raised and breakfast in hand. ”I heard I was mentioned in a conversation. Are you guys talking crap about me?” Ford places his food on the table and pulls back a chair. He sits right next to you and before he dives in on his breakfast, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips. “You wish!” Mable says, flipping her paper on its backside. “I do not.” Ford said quietly. “So, kids saving the world, huh? That has to count as some kind of child abuse.” You half said seriously, half said jokingly. Ford rolled his eyes. “What? Are you gonna arrest me?” You glared at him. “I might…”
