Cipherstarling - LOVE STRUCK

Something that deals me psychic damage is when kid Stan is portrayed as trying to make Ford laugh all the time. Trying to distract him from every single bad thing that was going on, to protect him. I mean, they were both always defending and helping each other, but Ford was the one who needed it more, so Stan assumed the role of the protector more often than not and it stuck with him.

Of course, in some cases, like with bullies, there were simple solutions: put up enough of a fight so that they will not bother again. Other stuff is different though. Things like Ford's hands, their parents and other adults in their lives. Here they'd just have to endure it, but Stan would still try to shield him from those as much as possible. And that's achieved by being a well of positivity and hiding his own emotions.

I also feel like Ford would buy it and think that yes, Stan really is just that cheerful and uncaring about all the bad stuff, perhaps willfully ignorant. I think it would start to annoy him a bit. Cause he has always known that his brother isn't stupid, just lazy (at least that's how it looked to him). This would seem like more of that. Him avoiding responsibility and difficulty

mi mi mi mi mi

I can never leave Tumblr because after years of sporadic therapy utterly failed to even approach the core of my problem some random tumblr user was like “I processed my trauma by writing a 10,000 word work of filthy fanfic erotica” and I was like “fuck it I’ve tried everything else” and now I’m 17 chapters and 20,000 words deep into an unpublishable work of obscenity and after careful literary analysis with one of the Beloved Mutuals I have come to some Terrible Revelations about my childhood and may now continue the process of Healing. Where else am I supposed to get this kind of experience. Who does this. Why are we like this. I’m never leaving. I love y’all.

Just remembered I can bring this drawing back from high school.

if there isn’t any new bill cipher x reader content soon i think i will blow up into a a million tiny little pieces

number 15 erased Fidds' memory from traumatizing pastime with Ford

Poetry [Stanford Pines x Reader]

Stanford Pines was poetry living in a mortal man's body. It was unfair.

His calloused fingers were often stained with ink, wrist resting under a thick red sleeve that often brushed against the surface of a weathered journal. If you squint, you'd see the yellowed fibers clinging to the cotton of his cuffs.

It's astounding how something as simple as his reading habits could undo you.

He sat cross legged on a worn armchair, book deftly resting over one six fingered hand. His other hand rested languidly on the arm rest, tapping a slow little tune on the wooden end of it. You wondered how warm his hands would be against your smaller ones.

Occasionally, he'd tug at a stray, greying strand of hair. But no matter how much he ran his fingers through his head, it would endearingly fall over his forehead. Waiting to be tamed.

His glasses fogged at the corners, sitting crooked over narrowed eyes.

Oh, his eyes.

Coffee freshly brewed, pure and aromatic.

The color of a leather bound journal, well loved and written to completion.

Honey, dripping and shining under the light of the sun. Why did he choose to sit next to a stained glass window like some- some picturesque figure? A perfect painting, unmoving as he read. His chest rose and fell gently, sometimes, a small mumble escaped him.

You can't do this.

You can't focus with this infuriatingly attractive man in your vicinity.

With a huff, you closed your spiral notebook. Shaking your head as your packed your things.

"Oh, do you need a break?", Ford asked, fixing those earthy brown eyes on you.

No, not really.

"Yes, it's about time for lunch, Ford." You sighed.

"Well, I'll join you then."

Your cheeks flush, and you turn so fast that you don't catch the way his face mirrored yours. You miss the way he gaped like a goldfish, stumbling his words as he tried to think of something to say to you. To keep you from leaving his space and to secure his place in your side.

But there was no need for that.

You'd let Stanford Pines sit at your table and talk your ear off about anything and everything. Despite the way you can't make eye contact without turning red.

He hopes that one day, you'd catch his gaze and see that your admiration was reflected in his.

God i hate them so much 👎👎

Cw for strangling/suggestive content

This is based off of this post by @leeseechkeens but where i went 'what if... old man...🤤🤤' and got so horny i blacked out and woke up with this on my canvas

Is the seduction hat™ working?

I got this idea at 3am.

No, I won't elaborate further