• Created this blog to gush over Stanford Pines. He's my most special-est interest, and I self ship with him!! but I'll share with everyone, no need to thank me. C;
• Feel free to send me your Ford drabbles, requests, or general questions (about Ford). I just might write you something! Some posts may be a bit suggestive,, bewarb. Also, please don't request anything romantic relating to teen!Ford or child!Ford.
• That being said... my only dni is minors, but I will not be interacting with you if you do that darkshipping stuff, or whatever you crazy kids call it nowadays.
• I'm not a professional writer, so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.
• Ford freaks hmu !! dms always open to talk about him... let's be friends U^ェ^U🍧
Please check out my friend @skelletinne 's Ford x reader fanfic dedicated to me 🥹🩷 vvv
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one thing i love to think about is the companions ford must’ve had met during his time in the multiverse. imagine him stumbling upon some highly advanced android whos also on the run and who helps him for a period of time causing him to become attached to (kissbot flashbacks) 😭
Well hello...
I was inspired to write a little somethin' somethin' regarding this... as the kissbot thing is one of my favorite quirks about Ford's character. The concept of programming a robot head to teach you how to kiss has got to be like... worthy of a solid gold crown with the word "GEEK" engraved into it with precious gemstones bordering each letter. 😭 He deserved everything that came after this event. As a matter of fact, he should have never came back to his home dimension. He should have perished somewhere out in the multi-verse a long time ago.
Anyway, my little drabble originally wasn't meant to be this long, but you know me. Regardless, hope it tickles your fancy!
The unit introduced itself as 067-AXLE, but Ford, possessed by his lifelong habit of assigning humanity to anything that showed even the faintest hint of intelligence...called it "Ax".
Ax was built from an alloy unknown to any dimension Ford had catalogued. It's pearlescent skin would yield slightly beneath his fingertips when caressed, and became hard as diamond when hit with enough force. The contradiction bothered Stanford more than he cared to admit, but it didn't bother him as much as the precision of it's "mind". Ax processed information with a clarity that made something deep in Ford’s chest tighten in awe. The one thing Stanford Pines likes more than bragging about his own intellect, is fawning over something that is beyond his own comprehension. The utmost unusual, if you will.
...They were both fugitives.
For months they moved through neon lit ruins, getting lost in a cyber-dystopian city that stretched farther than the Amazon. The pair drifted from one dying town to another like ghosts that had forgotten where they were meant to haunt. As tense the environment was, it was safe to say they kept eachother in good company along the way, forming a mutually beneficial bond like no other. Ford raided scavenged machinery for valuable parts that could be repurposed into something useful, while "Ax" watched the perimeter and calculated escape routes before trouble could even think of arriving. It was an efficient arrangement for the most part, Ford used Ax as a tool, Ax allowed itself to be used as such due to it's programming. There wasn't much else to say about their relationship, as Ax was a highly intelligent android whom possessed no traits, other than it's physical form, that would indicate some sort of sentiment.
However... when exhaustion made Ford’s hands tremble, Ax would quietly take the wrench from his fingers.
“Rest, Stanford. I will maintain the perimeter.”
Ax had learned to speak in a softer tone when it deemed necessary... from Ford. And for some reason, that realization unsettled him more than the words themselves. He looked into it's blue optics and felt panic strike cold through his ribs.
"Not again."
His mind flashed back to another machine... he couldn't help but reminisce on a time in his life that he wholeheartedly sworn he'd never revisit a thousand times before. Yet, this haunting memory he tried to push down as far as he could until he could forget about it, seemed to crawl it's perverce little self back into his mind at the most inconvenient time. Often driving Ford into a temporary psychosis where he would act irrationally on his emotions, putting both him, and Ax in great jeopardy, not knowing if the consequences would be worth the thrill that would come next.
And of course, Ax would continue doing what it was programmed to do. Repeatedly placing itself between Ford and danger without a single hint of hesitation. Asteroid debris, rogue security drones, collapsing structures that could easily risk the well being of it's own body. Each time the machine shielded him with itself, Ford felt a warmth deep in his gut that had no business existing.
Realistically, Stanford knew who Ax was... He knew what *it* was.
It was a simple machine built by a civilization that no longer existed. A line of self-replicating units continuing their program to create, long after their original creators had gone extinct. It had no soul, no desire, no ulterior motive. Just instructions carried forward with no end goal by other mindless machines identical to itself. Alas, understanding the logistics of the situation unfortunately changed absolutely nothing for Ford. Loneliness was the obvious explanation, and he clung to that excuse with a cartoonish amount of determination. Years spent fleeing across the multiverse would make anyone attach themselves to the nearest source of companionship, right? It was purely psychological. Predictable, even.
Some would even say it's human nature.
The problem was that Ford knew internally that this reasoning wasn't completely true. Sometimes he caught himself chasing danger simply to watch Ax pull him back out of it. The carelessness he displayed should of occurred to himself as totally out of character... Instead, it left him with a teethy grin and his pulse racing while Ax lectured him about taking foolish risks, completely unaware that Ford had put himself in these situations on purpose.
Ford would stare up at the machine with half lidded eyes, listening to it's monotoned reprimand as it gently cleaned and patched up any wounds he may have gotten during these alterations. And usually, he wasn't really listening. He was more so focused on the tingling sensation that would crawl up his neck when Ax would carefully tend to his injuries. Ax was so precise with it's hands, that to someone who didn't know any better, could come off as a flirtatious caress rather than it's original intention to doctor up any signs of harm it's sensors detect.
And... Ax wasn’t angry, not at all. Anger required emotion. One of the few things a machine could not learn. Ford repeated this to himself so often that the words eventually lost their meaning. Once, these excuses he would recite like prayer would ease his nerves for a while, now sound like complete and utter gibberish when he mumbles them under his breath, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand, rather than the cold metallic claw he'd much rather be holding.
It became a private ritual... the machine protects him, the machine scolds him, Ford reminds himself the machine is incapable of caring... then the cycle would repeat. The sequence never changed. Neither did the small, shameful relief that settled through him whenever Ax’s undivided attention focused entirely on him and him alone. The feeling of essentially being babied by a machine that was built to do exactly that... it was a feeling like no other. It felt so good to finally let his guard down, to not be in constant fight or flight. He liked being told what to do, and what not to do. Being picked up and plopped onto the nearest flat surface to get fixed up by something so gentle and patient... it slowly made Ford regress into a state of mind comparable to that of a puppy in training that knew deep down he was a wild mutt who couldn't be tamed.
But of course, the tale is as old as time. What goes up must always come down. The lie Stanford held faithfully right up until the afternoon he cut the wrong wire had finally crashed and burned, exploded into smithereens right infront of his unsuspecting face.
He had been repairing some superficial damage, nothing too serious, in theory. While Ax sat motionless on the workbench, it's optics dimmed to standby yellow. As much as the damage done to Ax was minor in the grand scheme of things, Ford was still slightly unfamiliar with Ax's general structure. The technology used to create it was far beyond what had already been discovered back in Ford's home dimension. Meaning, one careless movement, one brief lapse in concentration, and Ax's system could detect a foreign intrusion... it might result in something unpredictable.
And unpredictable it was, when Stanford had grown too big of a head and thought he could daydream as he worked, he made a mistake. Didn't even remember what he had done... did he unscrew a bolt? Snip the wrong wire? He hadn't realized what went wrong before Ax's eyes glowed a bright shade of red.
“Stanford-”
Then it's core promptly detonated.
The blast threw Ford across the room hard enough to crack his good shoulder against the concrete wall. Luckily, his protective gear spared his face, but darkness still took him without warning before he hit the floor. When he finally woke hours later, smoke hung thick in the air. The workshop smelled of scorched metal and burning insulation, sharp enough to sting his lungs with every breath, he didn't know it yet, but this event would lead to partial, but permanent anosmia.
Debris of Ax's body glittered across the floor like scattered bones, Ford's blood covering some of the shiny pieces of it's skin, resulting in an iradecently crimson sight so sublime that even satan himself would stand impressed.
Ford pushed himself upright too quickly and nearly collapsed. Then he saw what remained of Ax. Wires spilled from the wreckage in tangled black bundles. Fragments of alloy were embedded in the walls and ceiling. Near the center of the destruction lay the only piece still largely intact:
The head.
He crossed the room with unsteady legs, tripping on his own feet as he finally dropped to his knees beside it. No sound came out when he tried to speak, his throat tightened around something too large to verbalize. He gathered the head against his chest with both of his calloused bloody hands, clutching it with the desperate care that was typically reserved for the dying.
It was only after several seconds of this meaningless embrace did Stanford realize he was apologizing. The shame arrived immediately afterward, then soon followed the rationalizing, then the shame again.
As if some frightened part of his mind had fled backward through time searching for instructions on what to do next, he lifted the damaged face toward his own and pressed his mouth against the cold metal where a human mouth would have been. Chipped paint scraped softly against his lips. His fingers moved through the ruined plating in slow, absent minded circles on it's now hardened skin. Mimicking the same tenderness he performed only once before, ironically on something eerily similar to this. He remained there far too long.
When awareness finally returned, it came all at once. The wrecked workshop, the shattered machine in his arms that was his only shield of survival in this hellscape. But somehow, the part that got to him most wasn't the significant risks to his life. It was the recognition that the gestures his body had reached for were the same ones he had once practiced on a ridiculous invention built to teach himself how to kiss someone properly. Someone human.
Heat flooded his face despite the cold room. Ford set the head down as though it had burned him, gathered whatever components still seemed salvageable, and left before he could think any further. By nightfall he had somehow abandoned the planet entirely... and by the end of the week he had abandoned the universe itself. It's strange, the way Stanford had found his way out of this planet he'd been stuck on for so many years... finding an escape route was a lot easier than Ax had initially described to him. It made sure to drill into Ford's head that the way out was nearly impossible to locate, how flying androids guard the atmosphere itself to make sure that if something gets in... it surely won't be getting out.
This planet was supposed to be a prison for any unsuspecting being who entered, the robots who populated the land used lifeforms as a source of energy to power themselves. But, as intelligent as Stanford Pines is, he never really stopped to think about this... when Ax refused to let him go about on his own. Constantly reminding Ford of the horrors that lurk beyond their small shared hideout space in great detail, to which he had no choice but to believe.
It doesn't matter now, though.
Stanford never spoke of Ax again, for years he told himself the secrecy was practical. Attachments were dangerous, sentiment was even more dangerous. A scientist should know better than to mourn a machine. But in quieter moments... another possibility surfaced, perhaps what truly haunted him was not that he had sought comfort from a robot.
Perhaps it was that... for one catastrophic instant, he had stopped believing Ax was only a robot at all.
It's incredible what isolation can do to the human psyche.
pls more toxic soul-consuming situationship with stanford pines moments🙂↕️
The constant push-and-pull relationship you and Ford have is both mentally exhausting and addicting. Some days he is so incredibly sweet to you, or, as sweet as Ford Pines can be. He shoots you dorky half-smiles when you catch him admiring you, leans in closer than he needs to with his hands clasped behind his back when he talks, and invites you to run random errands with him, using some weird excuse as to why he only wants you to come along. Those days are the ones you live for. You crave them like your favorite food after a bad day. But it always seems those days never come when you need them most.
It's always on your most emotionally and physically draining days that Ford seems to ignore you the most. You wait around for him to come out of his lab to talk to you. He could say anything, anything at all, you just need that one pick-me-up to make your day just a little better. But he never comes.
You sometimes wonder if he does it on purpose. Maybe he saw Stan scold you earlier for putting up the display wrong in the shop... perhaps he overheard you wince when Waddles stepped on your foot as he ran past. He knows you've had an awful day, so he thinks it's only right to make it worse.
He gets off on it, doesn't he? He loves that he has this effect on you. He takes advantage of it because he knows you'll come crawling back to him no matter what. You're pathetic, lonely, and desperate for his attention. And he loves it.
He can take breaks from you at any given time. We all know how much he loves his alone time, anyway. He could easily use his work as an excuse for why he hasn't made any time for you, and who are you to argue against it? You know nothing about his work. Anything to do with science is incomprehensible to you... or, at least, the kind of science he partakes in. You can't demand quality time and communication from a man who genuinely enjoys isolating himself if it means he can make love to his work.
It especially sucks because you had been waiting all day to see him on his and Stan's birthday. You had a gift you wanted to give him, but the longer you waited around, the more you realized you likely aren't even going to see him today. You'll leave his gift wrapped nice and pretty at his bedroom door in hopes that he will at least see it if he decides to sleep tonight.
He probably wont, when does he ever sleep in his room anyway?
"Another disappointing day with Stanford Pines. Happy Birthday!" You thought about writing on the tag of his gift, of course you decided against it.
God: Hey girl so look it's really straightforward the one rule is you can never have read a fanfiction where unusuologist Stanford Pines feels intense shame and guilt for being in love with the reader but folds like a card table when the reader pursues him regardless like that's literally it
One of my fav things to imagine are what kind of pet names he would use for y/n. I feel like at first he feels a bit awkward with them but it eventually grows on him and he calls you “stardust” or something along those lines 🤭
Ahem... I know I just said 5 minutes ago that I have writers block, but I found this in my drafts half-finished so I decided to just write the rest really quick. Enjoy this while you patiently wait for moreee...
---
I have always had a bit of disdain for unconventional pet names,, they make me cringe to the highest degree. HOWEVER... because my rose-tinted glasses for Ford Pines have been manually screwed into my skull (they are never coming out), I can't help but feel giddy at the thought of all the potential pet names he would come up with for his partner. One of those already being, as you said, "Stardust" or "Starlight." I am literally clutching my heart and dying as we speak.
As for normal nicknames, "Dear" is an obvious non-negotiable. He calls you that more than your actual name. Sometimes you wonder if he simply forgot your name for a split second, panicked, and used the term as a way to not-so-discreetly pretend he didn't totally draw a blank. You worry if this is an early sign of Alzheimer's... but you don't mention it to him. It might hurt his ego.
"Sweetheart" is the one he uses when he's trying to speak to you gently after you've said or done something dumb. He would never outwardly shame you, but you have learned that anytime he calls you sweetheart, it's almost always because you did something that mildly disappointed him. Alternatively, if he is comforting you over something he doesn't necessarily deem worth crying over, a condescending "Sweetheaaart" will escape his lips more often than not. A part of you feels ashamed and annoyed that he isn't taking your feelings as seriously as you'd like, but the devil on your shoulder can't help but blush at his sarcastic cadence and callous demeanor. You would never outwardly express the latter, though.
"Darling" is typically reserved for when he is surprised or happy to see you. Whether he’s been looking for you to show off one of his latest doohickeys, or waking up beside you in bed to find you already wide awake, admiring him with half-lidded eyes. He'd ask how long you've been doing that, followed by that name you love so much.
Agh, to be his special one whom he calls these pretty little names... I could only dream. T_T
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Ill be so sad if time passes by and i look back at your account and no longer see recent, but "last post ** years go" :(
I'm still here, my friend 🥹🩷 I promise I haven't lost interest in my beloved. Life just randomly decided to start life-ing and has left me with a long term creative block. I can't even bring myself sit down to draw anymore because I'm so tired.
I still write about him every day, just... in my diary. Random quick thoughts that aren't worth posting. I pinky swear I will get back to writing for you guys soon, I'm feeling the drive come back slowly, just let me get over this depressive slump first. I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting.
In the meantime, please keep sending asks. I love the ones I have been getting recently, and to be honest, the asks are what give me that creative drive I need. Your ideas are practically the glue that keeps this blog together.
Thank you for checking up on me, it feels good to know there is a niche side of the internet where a small amount of people look foward to hearing what I have to say. Especially because it's about something I am deeply passionate for.
For once in my life, I feel important. Thanks for that, everyone!
you haven't posted in so long, are you okay tootsie 😭💗 we miss YOU and ur posts
I am okay 🥹 Thank you for asking. I have bad creative block right now. Ford obsession still going strong, obviously. Unfortunately the autism does not simply allow me to move on from him. Not that I would want to of course...
I'll get to the many asks in my inbox very soon. Keep sending them in. Do not be coy.
I'm unsure if this is just cartoon logic, or what. But I find it interesting how Ford integrated himself into the Pines' family so smoothly after being... essentially to their knowledge, dead or non-existent for how ever many years. It really shows how much trauma can impact somebody, and how different people react to the same circumstances. Because personally, if I was thrown into that portal, I wouldn't last an Earth day. I would find some way to end my life, so I wouldn't have to suffer the loss of my previous life/endure the hardships of whatever else might be creeping and crawling out there in the multi-verse.
Not Ford, though. Or... at least as far as we the viewers know. He could have very likely been close to killing himself multiple times, for a plethora of reasons. But he came back alive anyway, remarkably almost unscathed. (His scars are probably pretty gnarly, and he could have some underlying alien illness that might affect him in the future, of course. I just mean that he came back in one piece. LOL)
Anyway, my point is that Ford is unique in the sense that as soon as he came back to his dimension, he didn't take a moment to rest. He got straight to work. Yes, he tried staying away from the kids as much as possible. But Mabel and Dipper's charm got the best of him, and he very quickly began getting along with the two of them. Especially Dipper with the whole DD&MD thing, plus their shared interest in anomalies and the unusual. Ignoring how it took him a bit to repair his relationship with Stan, I'd say Ford is quite the chameleon. He adapts well to new environments, (new-ish to him at least... the shack IS his house, and earth IS his world, but he hasn't been here in 30 years, so a lot has changed outside and inside his humble abode. See: him still thinking people use 8-tracks and floppy disks in the 2010's)
For someone with so much trauma, it's just admirable that he can put a brave face on and enjoy life despite what he's been through. He is flawed, but he demonstrated such good character development through out the short time we got to see him in the show. The way he apologized to Stan and repaired their relationship in possibly the cutest way ever was just the best. 🥹🩷 Like, yes, okay brobro we go play on our boat now and catch up. The sweetest!!!!! 😩.
To be able to still love your brother whom you've had a grudge against for most of your life, and to overcome that bitterness that you once had for him is actually... really mature? It's crazy how a life or death situation can bring people together. Although, in my innocent heart, I like to think that Ford would have still forgiven Stanley at some point had that all not happened. If Stan failed at bringing him back to earth, and Ford eventually passed away out there, I think his last thoughts would be about his brother. And not negative ones, either.
do you have any specific fanart of ford that is the most accurate to you ?!?!?! i saw this one really good drawing of him my mouth was foaming and then IT REFRESHED FOR NO REASON and i could never find it again……. save me tootsiebun pls………
I would be silly and put my own art as the example just to be funny, but then all of you would know who I am!
So instead, I will offer a list of other people who's Ford art I absolutely adore.
estoanquez
pinkbutter0
dokka-mokka
sovonight (obviously)
milkywayhou
pooptrucks
Pretty sure you can search all of these guys on tumblr/tiktok. Have fun, let me know if you ended up finding what you were looking for.
Definitely a silly drabble but I feel like Ford would ABSOLUTELY have wet specimens of anomalies in his lab (Ethically sourced of course). He’d probably have an eyebat or a couple of fairies :3
Fairies... 👀 I love fairies. I wanna be a fairy in the forest that Ford creepily stalks and sketches in his journal from afar. Too shy to come up and introduce himself,, hehe.
Imagine him making you a special little bottle necklace with a mini wet specimen in it to wear as jewelry ( ´△｀).. eek. He is so strange and cute.
To go through his lab and let him info dump on all his weird alien memorabilia, how fun. I love fat autistic old men.
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currently thinking about Ford's strong ahh genes and how he really DOES look like his father. Anyway this is what your kid would look like if you decided to procreate with him
Do you have any headcanons on Ford with someone who is also autistic or more specifically has AuDHD?
Love your work. You're carrying the Ford lovers on your back btw. :]
This ask suspiciously came in 5 days after I started taking ADHD medication for the first time... who are you and why do you know that...?
HAHA anyway, I think I'm qualified to speak on this, as I am a proud AuDHD soldier.
. . .
I strongly believe it is practically canon that Ford himself is at *least* autistic, I mean.. he shows every symptom in the book, and then some. See: his vast amount of knowledge on science/anomalies, social awkwardness, incredibly blunt communication style, and struggling with empathy.
That being said, I think he would be incredibly understanding of your disabilities because one, he's smart... obviously he's highly educated on the topic of the nuerodivergent spectrum. And two, he himself is on said spectrum.
I'm not sure if I wrote this in my diary, or here on my blog, but I love the idea of you and Ford parralel playing. You sit with him at his desk and do whatever you like to do, while he gets up and down from his seat and moves around the lab to work. Hours pass by in minutes with him, it feels like you had just sat down with him 20 minutes ago to indulge in your own fixations, when in reality it has been over 7 hours, and neither of you have spoken a word to eachother. The only reason why you checked the time is because the full blatter you have been ignoring since hour 1 has had enough of your nonsense. Only then will you excuse yourself, and he will give a single grunt in response, not looking up from his paperwork.
Ford is amazing to you for the most part. You guys have your rough days where your mental disabilities inevitably make you bump heads, but he knows how to deal with you, and vice versa. He's the only person that doesn't drain your social battery, the only person who's voice doesn't make your ears ring with overstimulation when he speaks for too long, the only person you aren't including when you say "I'd like to be left alone." That phrase actually often translates to: "I want to be alone... with you in the corner doing your own thing." LOL
He would never judge you or make you feel any kind of way about yourself when you have meltdowns/little moments in general. He knows what it's like, and he always has something up his sleeve (figuratively & literally) that will subdue you shortly. Ford is like those grandmas that have a random bottle of assorted pills in their purse, you take two thinking they are Tylenol for your headache, and next thing you know, you're chained to the porcelain throne an hour later. Because they were indeed not a tylenol.. But a stool softener.
HOWEVER, The difference between Granny and Ford is that he actually knows what he's giving you out of his mystery pill pocket. Of course he does... the second he notices you breathing shallower than usual, he digs through his pocket and promptly takes out a magnesium and makes you swallow it with a swig of his flask.
Could be a placebo, but it always seems to work... somehow. I mean, it could also just be him hugging and comforting you, and such... but two things can be true at once.
You guys are a "yapper x yapper" couple. He yaps about his special interests... you cut him off, start yapping about yours.. the cycle goes on. You'll never run out of things to talk about, people often give you two dirty looks in public for talking to eachother EVERYWHERE. Grocery stores, resturaunts, dentist lobbies. He'd be hovering over you while the dentist is trying to do their job, micromanaging everything they does in order to 1, keep you calm, and 2, because... it's Ford. One thing he's gonna do is micromanage a health professional. He knows more.
"Seriously, I told you I could fill that tooth myself at home. I don't care what their degree says, everyone here barely passed college with all C's!"
You can't even argue back because the dentist is knuckles deep in your gums drilling away, trying not to take the drill to Ford's head.
Sorry, got carried away with that last part. None of that has to do with AuDHD... LOL... typical ADHD side tracking I guess..
hello!!!! so uh i may have read through your entire blog and OH MY GOSH i'm freaking in love with your writing and headcanons fr like you are WAY too good at this anyway I saw you lamenting over the lack of girly reader x ford fics and felt very inspired so i wrote this little number for you over on ao3! ngl i am in fact a part of the scientist crowd in love with ford but i can be girly too!
anyway babe if you have an ao3 account please tell me because I would LOVE to be able to dedicate the fic to you! stay frosty and keep doing what you're doing (also, consider: ford helping reader with her makeup????) ok love you bai! <3
Where do I even begin? How am I supposed to reply to this? Do I cry and babble and completely overshare? I guess I’ll do that. It’s what I do best, anyway.
Apologies for any grammar mistakes, I can barely see my screen through my tears.
You couldn’t even begin to understand how much I needed this. This is quite possibly not only the best gift I have ever received, but a gift that was given at a time I truly needed it most. When I started this blog, I only intended to use it like a diary of sorts, a place to share my most intimate thoughts about my favorite character, someone who literally saved my life and doesn’t even know it… nor does he exist. I never thought I would get any asks or likes on my posts, and I didn’t care if I did or not. I’m just autistic and wanted a place to gush anonymously.
Now, with over 100 posts since then, I can’t help but say that you guys are a huge reason I continued posting. Instead of keeping my thoughts in my head or in my diary, I shared them with this niche little side of Tumblr that still loves Gravity Falls long after the release of TBOB, and especially Ford Pines.
If you had told me a few months ago that starting this blog would eventually lead to my work inspiring others to create their own art, I would have absolutely lost my mind. Let alone inspiring someone to create a 7k-word fanfiction dedicated to me. No one has ever done something so incredibly kind like that for me before. “Thank you” isn’t even close to expressing the amount of appreciation I have for what you’ve done. 🥺
THIS is princess treatment. The princess treatment I crave so hungrily...the kind only a good Ford fanfic could provide. And through you, (skelletinne), you have scratched that itch for me. More than scratched, actually. You ripped open my skin and clawed at the annoying prickle with long, sharp pink acrylic nails. From every little reference to my writing (which I did notice ALL OF THEM, by the way), to how you portrayed Ford’s personality, to how you somehow painted the reader to be exactly like me… (I'm creeped out.)
This is, hands down, the BEST piece of writing I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Could I be speaking purely out of bias? Perhaps. But my narcissistic traits are telling me that my opinion is always right, and therefore what I proclaim is fact!
I am crying profusely as I write this, and I just want you to know... I am not an easy crier. I’m relatively emotionally numb to most things nowadays, but one thing that will never fail to bring me to tears is my special interest (Stanford), especially in rare situations like this, when someone creates something specifically for me that relates to him. I don’t know you, but I feel so incredibly loved and appreciated right now. Sorry if that’s a bit much… you can’t hold my words against me, I am a complete mess at the moment.
The story itself is literally one of my favorite daydream scenarios. I adore the idea of attending one of Ford’s little science convention things,, watching him flaunt his intelligence, and *me* to his peers.
Okay, a little more oversharing before I cut this short, because this is already getting obnoxious. As someone who is constantly berating herself for her “self-diagnosed lack of intelligence,” seeing Ford praise the reader for her acumen was incredibly refreshing. It’s something I always imagine him doing for me. In my head, Ford thinks I’m the smartest person in the world… as much as I totally disagree, haha.
This entire fanfic felt like a therapy session. I have never felt more invigorated and full of bubbling tenderness in my entire life. Thank you so much, again. You have truly made my day, my week, my month, and my year. I am not easy to please, and you have successfully pleased me to the highest level, you genuinely made me cry tears of unbridled joy. I owe you my life. Thank you.
I strongly urge, and almost command, all of you to go read and leave kudos/comments on Skelle’s fic. If you’re like her and me, super hyperfeminine and in love with the idea of a brilliant, rugged older man fawning over you... this is the fic for you.
Currently thinking about Ford's bodily noises. Clearing his throat, grunting when he bends over, an "Aha!" when he figures out something, his sighs that come from deep inside of his chest. Good grief. He is nothing short of immaculate.
Hi tootsieeee,i LOVE the way ypu talk about ford nghhehhehehshshhsbdhdhsgsvsgsgdghfhdhdh.
I wanted to ask you of what do you think sleeping with ford will be like...idk if you alredy did something like that but ok.
(I NEED FORD CONTENT OR IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF)
oki byeee :D
YAYY! I'M GLAD YOU ENJOY MY FANATICAL RAMBLINGS.
I believe I have lightly touched on Ford's sleeping habits before, just here and there... I might have written entire drabbles about it and forgot. Let me know if ya'll find those...
I remember in one of my first posts I talked about how I headcanonned that his body was super warm and made it difficult to cuddle with him for long periods of time, especially in the warmer months. And I *think* I told you guys about how I love the idea of him never letting you sleep on the side of the bed thats closest to the door. He cannot have your back turned to the only entrance of the room, for safety reasons.
As we know in canon, Ford is a light sleeper. He also doesn't get much sleep in general. He's quite the workaholic, and tends to neglect his body's natural beckoning for the pillow. So, honestly I think unless you're a night owl like him, it's more likely that you go to sleep without him more nights than not.
You often wake up with him softly snoring on his back in the mornings, or on occasion, he naturally cuddles up next to you in his sleep, and you are abruptly awoken by the sensation of a gigantic hairy hibernating bear crushing half of your body weight. Which doesn't sound as pleasant as it actually is.
If you were to actually get him on a good sleep schedule, you'd have to be very weary of him, you can't spook him in any way because he wakes up in a gasp and goes into fight or flight mode. Portal/B*ll trauma responses, yannow. I think I have mentioned before that if you scare him out of his slumber, he might naturally swing at whatever woke him up. So be prepared for a flying 6 fingered fist if you so dare to stir the snoozing lion of his slumber.
I like to think he pretends to enjoy being the big spoon the most, but in reality his favorite position is his face in your neck with your legs and arms wrapped around him like a python. And if you were to scratch his back/head? He'd be purring like a kitten. A big kitten. A grumbly, monstrous kitten.
It takes him a while to be comfortable sleeping around you though, he's an anxiety ridden nutball with trust issues, insomnia, and he's the kind of person who believes that if he is not doing something productive, he is a failure. So, it will take some time, faith, and more melatonin than the typical adult male should be injesting, but it's possible. He wants you to be happy too, even if that means him staring at the dark ceiling all night as you blissfully snooze away in his arms.
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You are so real when it comes to the younger so x older fo it’s just SUCH A GOOD TROPE 🤌🏽
I'M SAYING!!!!! I really enjoy the thought of Ford being super shy and embarrassed about your relationship with him. So much so that if someone asked him if he was your father in public... he'd reluctantly say yes just so he doesn't have to explain. LMAOOOO
You're trying to play footsie under the table at the diner, and he's giving you the most stern, penalizing expression EVER. He mouths a silent "Stop. Now." As if you're a misbehaving dog 😭. Like bae, please, I know you love this.
You're admiring him, he takes notice. Smiles at you and asks what you're looking at.
"Oh, nothing. Just the wrinkles on your forehead."
IMMEDIATELY LOSES SAID SMILE. Haha, you'd have so much fun with him.
very off topic ask, but I love the humor in your writing 😭 the way you word things is so funny and strange, yet so intentional. anytime I sit down to binge read your posts, I swoon and giggle all at once. I especially love reading your long ass rants in your tags 🤍
keep doing what you do
OH MY DAYS. This is the best ask I have ever recieved, I'm glad at least SOMEONE can see the humor in my writing!!! I always fear you guys wont catch onto my enigmatic wording and take my bits the wrong way PFFT.
