Damn It's Been A While I Should Make Some Mr Bill Pines AU Stuff From @/honeqq(not Pinging Because I
Damn it's been a while I should make some Mr bill pines AU stuff from @/honeqq(not pinging because I don't wanna disturb HAHAHA) I miss these bozos LMFAO
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More Posts from Matrixbearer2024

I can't believe I woke up at 8AM to draw because of this idea LMFAO I'll draw/write something special for someone who can guess what inspired my dumbass to make this shitpost HAHAHHAH
I know chances of it happening are slim to none but pls let's get Poindexter wasted and dancing to Måneskin it'll be funny-
But I might make it canon to my AU because pls DRUNK FORDSYYYYYY- also imagine finding him like this omg it would be so good
I also have one of Stanley- but I'm gonna fix it up the best I can because I have not drawn him EVER aside from the chibi and like- TF THIS MANS LOOKS SO DIFFERENT LOLOLOL-
Also am kinda working on the strip challenge thing alongside some fics, drop me some ideas in my inbox if ever cuz we ballin with the twins fr
A fic that has to do with this post I'd made cuz I'm scraping the walls for more FordxReader content. Anyhow- here's the prologue of my fic, DO NOT TAG THIS AS STANCEST. I REPEAT. DO. NOT. TAG. THIS. AS. STANCEST.
I (Learned To) Love You [Stanford Pines x Reader]
Notes: The Stan twins will act slightly different from canon mostly because I’d rather the narrative run smoother and having Ford be arrogant to the detriment of himself or for Stan to be too nonchalant wouldn’t exactly bode well for the idea I’m trying to run with here so you’ll probably notice that shift where one becomes more mindful and the other becomes more selfless. Just a little, I’m kinda basing this off how I’d normally handle conflicts with my brother too; having a sibling really helps when writing sibling dynamics.
Chapter 1: Prologue
Ford is offered a chance to get into West Coast Tech, Stanley reveals a secret and the Pines Twins have a heart to heart.

As the final chime of the school bell rang for the day, students poured out of the classrooms. The halls and lockers buzzing to life amongst the sea of seniors excited for nothing more than to get out and get home. The building felt like a prison to most of those inside it, a monotonous cycle of suffering and redundancy for a relatively poor attempt at standardisation in the name of education.
Ford rolled his eyes when he passed by one of his peers complaining about a test on his way to his locker. The test in question wasn’t even difficult, by chance you would score something since it was multiple choice! The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead with a signature annoying hum, on designated study breaks Stanford found the low sound the most irritatingly distracting thing to exist. Alas, it was apparently out of the institution’s budget to even get newer functioning light bulbs; not surprising for a public high school.
Hastily, Stanford navigated through the sea of students that crowded out into the halls, his leather shoes clicking against the yellowing tile with every step; even if it was simply drowned out by the noisy chatter of the other students around him. Who even knew the last time these floors were properly cleaned? He dodged a wet floor sign that had been there since last week, a stain had already formed from the puddle that was in the space. It was just his luck that his locker was far enough away that he didn’t need to be near the mouldy sign or disgusting water.
He seriously couldn’t wait to get out of here.
Assignments were no issue, everything his classmates would have to cram tonight he’d completed weeks before. He fiddled with the aluminium combination lock that kept his belongings secure, it wasn’t the sturdiest thing– but it did the job. The metal casing was cool against his palms, every scratch and dent all so prevalent after years of use. When did he start using it… early elementary? It was a surprise it hadn’t given out on him at this point. Ford deftly unlocked it, the catch springing free as he unhooked and pocketed the little thing in the meantime to access the inside of his locker.
Hell week most students called it, a nightmare of nightmares with projects and tests back to back. Stanford saw no difference in the payload, having managed his time and tasks well enough that this week was like no other school week. Perhaps he was just the odd one again, shoving his books into the old locker became an autopilot routine. Being as studious as he is, Stanford rarely had to bring any homework home as he’d have finished it in school; the only exception to that being projects of any kind.
Speaking of projects, the events of earlier today rang clear in his mind like a record on replay.
“Pines twins to the principal’s office. Pines twins to the principal’s office.”
West Coast Institute of Technology… that’s some offer. He didn’t think his project was that incredible to have gotten noticed, but his father did always say he was special. Even if it did irk him in the moment that all that caught the attention of the old geezer was the mention of a possibility at becoming a millionaire. Alongside the excitement from that news also came the anxiety as well, the school seemed like a dream– cutting edge programs, multidimensional paradigm theory, it was the works and then some! Yet, the royal blue brochure sat sandwiched in the pages of his personal common book like a forbidden weight.
This had to be too good to be true, not to mention… What about his promise to Stanley? What about their plans? Sure, he was greedy enough to want his cake and eat it too– but Ford knew in this situation… there was no twisting it for that middle ground. His hand unconsciously tightened around the shoulder strap of his black satchel.
What now? Did he really have to pick one over the other?
Ford shook his head and glanced out a nearby window. It was still bright out, maybe he could stop by the beach and clear his head before going home. It should do him some good. Home was a place he’d rather be in less and less should there be any opportunities to get out. Maybe he could invite Stanley if his twin wasn’t drowning in whatever projects or essays like the rest of them. Speaking of, where was the guy?
“Hahaha! Hey Sixer! Whatcha thinkin about?”
“AH-”
Stanley almost ended up with a metal door to the face because of that surprise attack, fortunately he managed to dodge just in time. Ford looked at him with wide eyes, a silent question amidst the shock from his brother sneaking up on him. Not that his twin was even remotely phased, he simply returned the confusion with a nonchalant shrug.
“Hey, I asked a question first. Besides, what’s got you in knots this time? If ya can’t tell, the day’s over Poindexter.”
Ford rolled his eyes before slamming his locker shut, quickly returning the little aluminium bolt then jumbling up the combination. In retrospect, it did little to safeguard his belongings when it came to those that had similar skills to his brother– but it was a deterrent and still gave him some peace of mind whenever it was sitting there on that rusty metal loop to keep the door shut.
“Nothing too important. Anyway- uh, do you want to head down to the beach before home? We’ve still got time.”
Stanley gave him a million dollar grin in response, it was contagious enough that Stanford soon felt the edges of his lips tilting up instinctively to smile back. He rarely had a smile on his face unlike his socially extroverted twin. There were multiple reasons why most didn’t mistake them for each other despite sharing an identical face. Their starkly different behaviours was one of them.
“Sure! Anything beats being cooped up in the pawnshop with our old man anyway, just lemme get my backpack.”
“Alright, I’ll wait outside for you. It’s far too stuffy in here.”
“Says the one wearing a damn sweater vest!”
Ford rolled his eyes amused when his twin barked out a laugh and disappeared into the sea of their peers, a part of him wondered why their lockers were assigned so far apart but quickly dismissed that train of thought. He didn’t need to think about it, frankly he didn’t need to think about a lot of things, he just did. Irritating yes, but there were situations where the painstaking attention to detail was actually useful. This just wasn’t one of those times.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Stanford bobbed and weaved through the crowd of young adolescents towards the bright red doors of the exit. The stench of sweaty seniors and the acrid sweetness of somebody’s floral cologne assaulted his nose and caused him to cringe. On one hand, it seems like the football team didn’t know what the hell deodorant was; on the other– were they trying to drown themselves in perfume?! There had to be a threshold of which they could tolerate that fragrance, Ford just wondered how insanely high it had to be for it to burn his olfactory nerves that badly.
Or was he simply sensitive to those kinds of fragrances? He had no clue.
At this point, the brunette grew impatient; a frown worming onto his face as he shoved students out of his way to the door and ignored all the odd looks. Not that people hadn’t already graced him with such an expression before; he had his polydactyly to thank for that.
Ford couldn’t help the relieved slump in his previously rigid posture when he finally managed to step outside the building, there was really nothing that beats leaving that decrepit concrete facility. No more incessantly buzzing lights, no more tacky painted rooms, and definitely no more flooring that threatened to fall at the seams.
He looked up at the sky, what was once blue was now painted with magnificently vivid reds and yellows; the sun that accompanied it cast an ethereal golden shine on any of the objects it’s rays were able to strike. It felt like he was in a painting, oddly poetic for a town most people would consider a dump. As a faint breeze tousled his hair, Ford was graced by the vague hints from the salty sea.
He’d miss this.
Stanford suddenly jolted when a hand slapped his back, quickly whipping around in alarm to see the smiling expression of his twin. His heart felt like it was about to explode against his ribcage, there was no way he was even relatively okay today.
“Woah… Poindexter are you good? You’ve been really jumpy since earlier.”
That question was like a loaded gun with the barrel aimed down on him. As casual as Stan’s tone and body language was– his words indicated otherwise. Stanford took a deep breath and scratched the back of his neck, his panic couldn’t have been that obvious could it?
“I’m fine, ready to go?”
“You betcha, c’mon! We’re wasting daylight!”
Stanford welcomed the slight burn in his lungs and itch in his legs as he ran after his twin, laughing alongside the cheerful Stanley as they ran down the pavement towards the beach where they spent so much time growing up together. He was nowhere near as muscular or fit as his brother was, but that thought barely whisked by in his racing mind.
“Stan– Hey! H-Hold up!”
“Seriously Sixer? Out of breath already??”
“I’m not as brawny as you! Of course I’m winded!”
Stanley returned a lighthearted laugh, but he did slow down his pace so it was easier on his twin. The crunch of the sand under their shoes and the crash of the waves on the shore painted a cradle of familiarity for the Pines. The two continued to make idle chit-chat as they laughed and walked towards a familiar swing set that might as well be embedded far and deep into their memories like a tattoo.
A melancholic atmosphere quickly settled over the twins at the sight, a silent but mutual understanding occurring between them about the serious conversation that was already overdue. As they dropped their bags on a nearby rock and sat down on the rickety wooden swings, Stanley stared out at the docked boat they worked so hard to repair. It wasn’t even done but the project seemed like it was inevitably going to be abandoned due to circumstance.
Ford could only awkwardly twiddle his thumbs and stare down at his lap. What could he even say? It’s not like there was really a right answer to his predicament either, he’d have to say goodbye to one or the other. There was no easy way out.
“Look– Ford, I… haven’t exactly been entirely honest to ya.”
That piqued the other’s interest, finally looking up at his twin as his fidgeting also abruptly stopped. Stanley rarely called him by his name, often choosing nicknames of all kinds instead. The man sighed and turned away from the boat to finally look at his brother, as much as he would have loved to say that their childhood dream would still stand true if Ford never got that offer– it wasn’t really the case. Circumstances really didn’t line up for them no matter how you looked at it.
“Even if you didn’t get that offer, I doubt I would’ve really been able to stay either. Dad signed me off to some other family on the west side of the country. Kinda same to where that nerd college will take ya. I’m apparently already engaged to some gal I don’t know and haven’t met. Once we graduate, I’m out of here.”
If it weren’t for the soft crashing of the waves against the sand at low-tide, the silence would’ve been deafening. The tension was already so thick you could cut it with a knife, instead Stanley threw a hammer at it and the whole thing shattered like glass. Broken fragments, withering dreams, it was doomed from the beginning.
Ford was barely comforted by the fact that his twin was pushing him to take that chance for admissions at West Coast Tech, the actions of their father weighed more in the moment right now than whatever potential career or future Stanford was promised.
“When… When did this happen?”
“A couple months ago, I got traded in for some fat stacks. At least now I know I’m at least worth that much to Paw.”
Stanford couldn’t ease the heavy feeling that settled in his gut, as his brother’s attempt at a joke fell flat. There was only one choice for him then. He didn’t know what felt worse. Hands clasping together, the brunette leaned forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Damned if they did, damned if they didn’t.
“And… you’re okay with this?”
“Well, it’s better than nothing. ‘Sides, I heard the family was rich, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger in my life! Just gotta sit there and keep the wife happy.”
It was a bit unsettling how quickly Stanley seemed to accept the situation, the fact he kept it hidden this well for this long was predictable of the man– but to have fully accepted it just like this hasn’t ever hit harder than it did right here, right now.
“Where are you even going to end up?”
“A town called ‘Gravity Falls’? Apparently it’s in Oregon.”
Well, he’d never heard of that place before. Odd. Ford couldn’t even recall it being mentioned in geography class, much less any map he’s ever looked at. Here he thought he already had a fairly good grasp of locations and the like, apparently not.
“Hey, don’t give me that look. If you’re that worried I’ll go visit you! Won’t take too long either since we’re both already out west!”
“No– Stan, you’re basically being sold off to some random family in the middle of nowhere! For all you know they could be serial killers or mafia!”
Stanley laughed again, it was starting to get on the other’s nerves how blasé the guy was being in regards to all of this. Seriously, didn’t he care at all? This was something big! They couldn’t be the same after this, not when there would be more obligations among other things that demanded their time.
“You’re thinking too far into it Sixer! I’ll be fine! I’ve already made my peace with it, you should take that chance too. It’s a better shot for your career than whatever they’ve got here.”
“But, you still have so much time left–”
“Stanford.”
Stanley just gave his brother a sorrowful smile, his situation he could make do, the last thing he needed was for his paranoid twin to botch his chances during the unveiling of his project when the recruiters for West Coast Tech arrived out of worry for a situation that neither of them had any power to change. This was as far as he could really go, no use feeling bad over it; better make the most of things instead.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it anymore okay?”
Stanford couldn’t tell in the moment who really was the older twin, crossing his arms in a small huff. So… he was decided with his brother’s blessing; despite the fact it didn’t make any of this easier to swallow. The next time Ford looked at Stanley, the guy had his arms open in an offer for a hug.
That was an offer the brunette didn’t even hesitate to take, holding onto Stan tightly like he would disappear if he let go. Somehow it felt like that regardless, even if they were definitely both still there and still entirely in the situation.
“We can figure something out after you get that admission letter to nerd college.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I’m your twin, that also makes you an idiot.”
Finally, Stanford allowed himself a soft chuckle; things were still pretty tense– but when wasn’t anything for an overthinker? At this point, he was thankful he still had time with Stanley even if it was limited and winding down. They had until graduation.
“You done with your introspective thing Sixer? We should probably get home before Ma gets ticked off.”
“Oh shut up.”
With Stanley laughing again, it was just like that and they were back to normal. The two picked up their bags and started making their way back home. Thankfully things started to settle into a sense of how they often are, or at least as much as it could get for the Pines Twins when spontaneity was usually an ingredient in their routines.

Fic is also here on Ao3
Continuation to this post since it'll be a multi-chaptered thing and I love world building, also more Stan Twins because I love them and they're funny. Next chapter will be reader's turn because YUHHHHH-
I (Learned To) Love You [Stanford Pines x Reader]
Chapter 2: Chained Freedom
The Stan twins return home and Ford overhears some devastating news, Stanley comforts him and they both hatch a game plan.

The sky was beginning to darken by the time the twins had both decided to begin the trek home. Slinging the black book bag over his shoulder, Ford watched the reds and yellows of the horizon bleed indigos and blues; the sun barely peeked over the edge of the water now. The sight never failed to amaze, the stars and moon beginning to make an appearance as well in the retreating light and advancing darkness.
It felt oddly poetic this time, like the closing of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. Stanford always did have a fondness for the vast expanse of space and it’s heavenly bodies. There was just so much to find, to learn, and his curiosity never was truly satisfied since young.
“I think I’ll miss this.”
“The sunset or the sea? Hopefully not this whole place because it’s a dump!”
Stanley got a light punch to the shoulder from his brother in amused retaliation, of course there wasn’t truly any bite in the action– he returned it with another laugh. Ford playfully rolled his eyes as he began to walk up the beach in the direction to the pawnshop.
“You know what I meant; and hey–”
Stanford looked behind at his twin who raised an eyebrow at him, it was a good thing they were always close; he could only hope it would stay that way despite the circumstances and despite the eventual distance. For a duo that shared faces, it was a bit hilarious in retrospect how jarringly different they were.
Yet, they coexisted and thrived like no one else.
“Last one home does the dirty laundry!”
“NO WAY!”
Stanley raced after his sibling as they both booked it down the pavement, cheerful laughter from the two brothers ringing the quiet and empty paths with only the dim hue of the glowing streetlamps to guide them. Stanford already had a head start, not that it helped much when it was against his athletic twin. They bantered and joked during the race home, eventually walking through the door to the pawnshop full of smiles and cheer.
Oh if only it would have lasted.
“First Stanley and now Stanford?! What the hell Filbrick?!”
Came their mother’s shrill cry in the kitchen alongside the clattering of what was possibly random cookware; the noise had sobered up the twins from their merriment immediately. What had they just come back to?
Sharing a look with his brother, Ford looked up the stairway with trepid hesitation. Going up right now would only interrupt their parents, and by the sounds of it they seemed to be at odds again. It’s happened plenty of times over the course of their childhood, but never to the degree that things were being thrown around. It was always just yelling unless they were involved.
Recalling those moments of ‘discipline’ still sent shivers down his spine.
“I needed a guarantee! The boy has promise but I just couldn’t refuse this offer!”
“So you sold him off?! First Stanley and now him! I can’t believe you!”
Stanford couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his stomach dropped to the floor in an instant. His palms grew clammy, clutching the strap of his book bag, the dread was overpowering. It was getting harder to breathe, his lungs burning and not from the exertion earlier; it was like someone up and sat on his chest. Had his father really done this…? What about his dreams? His education? His career?
It was like in the dean’s office all over again.
Stanley just pulled his brother into a tight hug, attempting to mumble comforting words to snap Ford out of it. Any assurances would be empty at this point in time, he flinched when the loud clattering or pots and pans rang out once more. He’d long since accepted his situation, but for it to happen to Ford? It didn’t make sense.
“It’s just a marriage, besides– we’re lucky that someone actually wants Ford as a husband! Have you seen him?!”
Stanley just tuned his parents out at this point, guiding his brother to sit outside the shop with him so they didn’t have to listen anymore to the screaming and the cursing. As special as his twin was in their father’s eyes, he was still considered a freak because of his hands. It wasn’t ever something Stan could wrap his head around, it didn’t make Ford any less capable or incredible.
Still, people always had to criticise something.
“Why…? I thought I was good enough…”
“You are Sixer! Don’t even–”
“AND STILL THIS HAPPENED!”
Stanford couldn’t help the panic and the frustration that exploded out of him at that moment, digging his hands into his hair in an attempt to ground himself from the rapid pace he was spiralling. It was hard to focus on any singular thing when everything seemed to crumble and disintegrate right in front of him until nothing was left.
Stanley couldn’t help the pity that swelled in his chest for his brother, saying nothing and only giving the other a tight hug. Graduation was rolling around and time was running out. They really couldn’t catch a break now could they? Not today, not tomorrow, not ever? Was that even possible?
Right now, they really needed a distraction.
“Let’s get outta here. I’m sure Ma won’t mind if we’re a little late to dinner today.”
Ford just let his brother drag him around at that point, his thoughts nothing short of a jumbled mess that he couldn’t make heads or tails of. Everything he’d hoped, dreamed of, worked for, practically gone; just like that.
His hands balled into fists, sorrow bled into frustration– to anger, his life hadn’t even started and his wings were already clipped. Even if he did get farther from here, there was no telling how much distance that would even be. Chances are… not that much. All because of a girl he’d never met, to a family who gave his greedy old man a fat check.
Someone who effectively ruined his life without even being in it!
The loud chime of a pinball machine snapped Ford out of whatever destructive and resentful trainwreck his thoughts were heading towards, hastily looking around himself to find that he was in an arcade. The bright lights and equally obnoxious noises were irritating but distracting, better than nothing the young adolescent supposed.
It didn’t take too long for him to find Stanley by the pinball machines equally frustrated but not for the same reasons. Ford crossed his arms with a blank expression as he watched his brother curse at the machine for who knows what reason, it wasn’t a game that was particularly interesting to him; especially given how much of it was based on chance and not skill.
“What? I was this close to getting the high score!”
“Would you mind explaining why we’re randomly here?”
“Here or home, pick your poison Sixer.”
Stanford didn’t have a retort to that and chose to ignore his twin’s sarcastic tone, both of them were clearly on edge and irate; even if it wasn’t directly at each other. He silently moved to stand next to the machine and actually observe what was going on inside it as his brother put another quarter in to play the game.
The flashing lights were no short of obnoxious as they lit up and flashed at random moments. Ford cringed as another bumper danced in neon hues, at this point the game might as well come with a warning for epilepsy. Stanley didn’t seem to mind however, happily cheering every now and again when the metal pinball would repeatedly raise his score by bumping into more of the obstacles set for it.
What kind of mind-numbing nonsense was this?
“Stop glaring at the machine, would ya? You’re going to kill my lucky streak!”
Stan narrowed his eyes at his brother when he made an incoherent but disgruntled noise, seriously? Couldn’t he lighten up for even a little while? It would do both of them some degree of good if he just stopped being a hardass when anything pissed him off.
“Look, nothing’s happened yet so could you stop acting like it’s the end of the world already?”
“Not yet, my world hasn’t ended yet. But it’s getting there, holy Moses it’s getting there!”
Ford couldn’t help the sarcasm that flooded off him in droves, there was nobody angrier at his situation than he was so this couldn’t be helped. The brunette was speeding through the five stages of grief at this point for something that had yet to happen, a situation that he also acknowledged he knew very little about as well.
His twin didn’t appreciate the attitude however, returning a deep and annoyed frown at the comment.
“It’s not that bad, the family’s gotta be loaded for Paw to have agreed. You wouldn’t have to work, you’d be loaded once you’re hitched!”
Sadly, that wasn’t the right response either and Ford just grew more irritated; his hands gesticulating wildly and preventing Stan from shoving more quarters into the machine so they could seriously talk. For once, the loud noise around them was a good thing. Otherwise who knows what kind of trouble they would be stirring from this argument.
“Stan, I like working? I like studying? I want to have a notable career and get my name out there?? I can’t do that if I’m tied down like a trophy husband!”
“Oh come on, it’s not like whoever your fiance is would chain you down like a dog.”
“You don’t know that! I don’t know that! For all I know they picked me because I’m like one of those exotic pets that you put on display! Then it’s just: ‘Oh this is my husband, he has six fingers–’ and I’m supposed to be okay with that?!”
Ford got a punch to the shoulder from Stanley for that comment, he knew he deserved it– but that didn’t really placate the man. It wasn’t helping that he was directing his anger at anything and everything aside from the real cause of it. He grumbled out somewhat of an apology before leaning against the side of the machine just as Stanley continued to play.
“It’s not over yet. You still have that project right? If you get admitted into West Coast Tech there’s no way Paw would stop you.”
“Stan, who knows when or where I’ll end up because of the arrangement? Would it even matter if I got in anymore?”
Stanley was genuinely considering giving his twin a good wallop by now, letting out a tired sigh and just focusing on the pinball machine and his game. The scores didn’t matter, the game didn’t really matter, he just needed something to distract his growing irritation and not vent it towards Stanford; even if the latter wasn’t really doing the same.
Ford wasn’t entirely fond of the arcade anyway, too much was going on in too little space; but a distraction was a distraction.
“You have a way out. Maybe take that chance instead of always thinking that only the worst will happen.”
It was only when his twin gestured to the pinball’s plunger that Stanford noticed his apprehension dying down. He always pinned himself to be cynical and nihilistic but there was always a point it would cross into pessimism; an intersection of sorts. The issue was getting out of it.
The machine once again rang a tune to play another round, the plunger’s knob flashing in reds and yellows as Stanley beckoned him to pull it back. The game itself was all about chances, navigating risk and doing what you could amidst the uncertainty. Was this intentional?
Ha, and everyone calls him dramatic.
“You brought me here on purpose.”
“Huh? I’ve got no clue what you’re on about”
Ford rolled his eyes and pulled on the knob, launching the metal pinball into whatever sporadic path his luck drove it to all around the machine. He couldn’t tell if his brother really meant to make the correlation or if it was just a coincidence, either way– he lucked out.
As Stanley cheered at seeing the highscore rack up on the machine’s leaderboard, his twin was busy already formulating a plan. They didn’t need to tell their old man that they knew what was going on, and frankly it was probably for the best that they feigned ignorance if it wasn’t something he was planning to tell them. It would be fine if things got rough, they had each other to rely on anyway.
It was always them against the world wasn’t it?
“Hey Poindexter, wanna try beating the top one on this?”
“Sure, it couldn't hurt.”
So it begins, game freaking on!

Fic is also here on Ao3
Imagine asking Stanford for another kid during a late night while the triplets are asleep. You were both cuddling on the couch watching a movie and a blanket was draped around you as you remained in your lover's arms. Some cliche sci-fi movie danced across the glass as the volume remained low to not disturb the rest of your family.
Ford couldn't help but notice something was partially off, you stared at the TV screen but weren't focused at all on what it even showed. Actually... now that he thought about it- you seemed pretty distracted all throughout the day; not just now.
"A penny for your thoughts my dear?"
You turned to Stanford with a small giggle, resting your head over his chest with a contented sigh. His heartbeat was the most relaxing sound you'd ever heard, oftentimes falling asleep to it's rhythm or whenever Ford would card his hands through your hair. You swore this man absolutely knew just how to pull miracles with his hands.
"Mhm... just when I thought our three little tykes wouldn't ever fall asleep they're out like a light. Sound familiar?"
Ford raised an eyebrow at you amused while one of his hands absentmindedly rubbed your back. It was like he was legitimately trying to put you to sleep or something, you were just too stubborn to and forced your eyes to stay open and look at him.
"Yeah, I think we did quite well." "We should have another."
It took less than a second for your words to have taken effect. Imagine just how red Ford's face immediately got, the heartbeat you were listening to picking up and thumping wildly in his chest as well to reflect his embarrassment. You didn't know why you suddenly felt so bold tonight, it might've been your brain being half-awake in the moment.
Stanford attempted to reply but all that came out from his lips were incoherent words and random stuttering as his mind struggled to catch up. You shifted your position slightly to start kissing his neck and he couldn't help but laugh, not just because it felt ticklish but also because he was generally just pretty amused.
"Another?! Are you trying to seduce me?"
Ford didn't know how to properly face the fact that you looked absolutely stunning like this, the glow of the TV outlining you like an angel in his arms. He was already in knots from the fact you were in one of his pajama shirts, he was currently wearing the matching bottoms. It was just straight sin that you also looked at him like a sleepy but stupidly sexy siren.
He couldn't help himself at that point, raising a hand to cup your face, eyes swimming in adoration. You leaned into his palm and hummed contentedly.
Both of you had been married for a couple years now, yet it always felt like just yesterday he was at the altar watching you stride down the aisle. Ford didn't know how much of a lucky sonofagun he had to be for you to pick him of all people.
"Look... I know I'm not entirely like I used to be, not as thin or pretty-"
The mention of your name spilling from his lips cut that sentence short, he didn't allow you to finish speaking, much less hold on to that thought.
"Oh my dear, you couldn't be more wrong. You're more beautiful than ever."
By now, Ford had gently guided you back to lay against the couch. His warm hands caressing your body, exploring, admiring like one would for an exquisite art piece. Thing is, to him you weren't even that. It was beneath you.
"Your strong hips and thighs, your smooth luscious curvesㅡ"
To Stanford, you were much more, downright priceless and incomparable to any worldly possession he could think of. He used to think he was married to his research, dedicated to no one and nothing but the pursuit of academic excellence.
Then you walked into his life, and consequently threw that notion upside down and inside out.
"And these!" "Stanford!"
You couldn't help but joyously squeal when he suddenly nuzzled your chest, you could practically hear the smug smirk in his tone. He was still a very reserved and shy man, you knew that muchㅡ but in the confines and privacy of your shared home?
Ford was so lovably arrogant that most days you can't help but knock him down a couple pegs. It was because of you after all that his head didn't get too large. The man really didn't know where he'd be without you at his side, but in the moment he didn't want to think about it.
He didn't want to think at all really.
"Yes, let's have another."
He mumbled against your lips, pulling you in for another sensual kiss as his hands cradled your face. Your fingers carding through his hair. What either of you would give to make this night last forever, to have this moment last forever.
Just a slice of peace where the both of you could remain for as long as you're able. What wouldn't you give for that?
"Let's have as many as you want."
You felt pampered in Ford's embrace, drowned in his affection that you knew was yours and yours alone. The love he felt towards the triplets was something else entirely.
A small smile worked it's way up to your lips while you both exchanged soft kisses, there was no haste or need to rush. The both of you could simply be happy right here, right now, together.
Suddenly, a loud wail rang out from the upstairs of the cabin. Followed by two more loud cries from three certain troublemakers. You let out an exasperated noise and nuzzled into Stanford's neck as he chuckled at the timing of it all.
"Or... we could just practice."
How common is the idea/HC that Ford literally waits for the ice cream to melt before eating it? Genuinely curious because I see it everywhere.
Because istfg I'll write a whole fic about him and reader essentially just eating melted ice cream while Stanley looks at them and suffers/j