thenoellebird

[thenoellebird]

You know what, there's one thing I've never understood. How did Ford manage to break the first and second laws of physics in high school with only 60s Earth technology, but when he went to build the interdimensional portal, which also broke the laws of physics, 80s Earth technology wasn't enough and he had to use alien technology from a UFO? If he managed to break the laws of physics in high school with only 60s Earth technology, why he couldn't break the laws of physics in Gravity Falls with only 80s Earth technology? That doesn't make any sense.

That's one thing that I actually think those university guys were right about: A perpetual motion machine has one thing to do: not stop. Even if it was broken, once started, the machine isn't supposed to stop. Stan didn't break the weights that were spinning, and even if he did accidentally short circuit the thing, its supposed to create energy, not use it. The only explanation for it stopping if it was a real perpetual motion machine is that a broken wire or part got stuck in the gears of the piece that was rotating. But in all honesty, that probably would have stopped it immediately rather than had it still rotating as Stan walked away, thinking it was still working. It looks to me like it slowed down and stopped. IMO, Ford didn't create perpetual motion anyway, even though it was probably a very good experiment. And truth be told, if it was a real one, scientists would have probably come to him, rather than him needing to go to them. He had all the blueprints. He could've sent them to West Coast Tech. He could've told them what he was working on. They could've looked and thought about it and mabye eve ntested it. But that's just the thing. I don't think it really actually worked. And deep down, Ford, though he's way too stubborn to admit it, probably knew that from the moment it broke, but was desperate for someone to blame other than himself for his failure.

To Ford, failure means just that: he failed. He didn't make it. He lost. And if there's one thing gifted kid Stanford Pines doesn't do, it's lose. Ford Pines doesn't lose, not against other scientists, not against Bill Cipher, not against anyone. "He may be a god, but I am a scientist."

Ford may be a scientist, but what Ford forgot is that he is also still a human.

Anyways I could go on for a really long time about all this, so I'll just leave it at that with a TLDR--

TL;DR, Ford has above average intelligence but that doesn't exempt him from being human, and perpetual motion is probably impossible anyway.

This whole thing was referenced in my ao3 fanfic for my ax therapy au in chapter ten by the way. Idk if that's where u caught onto it, but that's where I talked about it.

[thenoellebird]

I think we all remember the scene where Stan arrives to rescue Dipper and Mabel and expose Gideon in S1Ep20 Gideon Rises, but wait a minute

What's Blendin doing here? He walks offscreen as Stan's car pulls up, but what's he doing here?

[thenoellebird]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66115735/chapters/172097959

CHAPTER TEN OF AX THERAPY AU IS UP

I hope y'all are enjoying this because STUFF IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN so go readddd

tw for mentions of child abuse/panic attack/vomiting. Enjoy.

btw stan does keep his long hair while pretending to be Ford.

[thenoellebird]

BILL IS DRUNK.

This is part one. The comic IS finished, this is just...all I can post at once. I hope you like it, I made it a long time ago. I had a blast making it at the time, but putting it up was a lot of work, so I hope you guys appreciate it.

I have already stated I will not provide a transcript. I dont care how bad my handwriting is, I'm not going through this and making a transcript. There's the call log from the book of bill, y'all can follow along with that. I ain't making a transcript, I don't care how many people request it or how many puppy dog eyes I get, the answer is no.

My favorite few panels are Bill yelling "give him back" and the one that used to be my pfp which will be up with the second bit of the comic.

Also my little octopus girlie is named Tiffany, and her manager who's some kind of interdimensional puppet alien??? is named Roger. Anyways. Hope you like it.

My favorite character is CGI watermelon kid, you can see him in the background of one of these panels, and he's featured in another panel later. Constant sobbing. I love that guy.

alright. Yapping time is up time for me to go write my stories. Peace out for now y'all

[thenoellebird]

Guess what I just put up for you guys!!

HERE'S A HAPPY CHAPTER Y'ALL!!

[thenoellebird]

BILL IS DRUNK.

This is part one. The comic IS finished, this is just...all I can post at once. I hope you like it, I made it a long time ago. I had a blast making it at the time, but putting it up was a lot of work, so I hope you guys appreciate it.

I have already stated I will not provide a transcript. I dont care how bad my handwriting is, I'm not going through this and making a transcript. There's the call log from the book of bill, y'all can follow along with that. I ain't making a transcript, I don't care how many people request it or how many puppy dog eyes I get, the answer is no.

My favorite few panels are Bill yelling "give him back" and the one that used to be my pfp which will be up with the second bit of the comic.

Also my little octopus girlie is named Tiffany, and her manager who's some kind of interdimensional puppet alien??? is named Roger. Anyways. Hope you like it.

My favorite character is CGI watermelon kid, you can see him in the background of one of these panels, and he's featured in another panel later. Constant sobbing. I love that guy.

alright. Yapping time is up time for me to go write my stories. Peace out for now y'all

[thenoellebird]

well to be fair to myself, though my handwriting is bad and some of the pictures are a little blurry bc the comic panels were small, it's a very, very funny comic.

Comic?

Mayhaps I has comic plz?

(No pressure of course)

okay alright man. I'm getting the pictures now

[thenoellebird]

I've already got 25 pictures, tumblr is just hating me. I'll get them up and then put the rest up later

Comic?

Mayhaps I has comic plz?

(No pressure of course)

okay alright man. I'm getting the pictures now

[thenoellebird]

*siiiiigh*

my computer is getting overloaded and my phone is not enjoying sending these. We'll see where it goes.

I also have to crop and rotate every single picture so uh lotsa work for me with this one. That's why I wasn't gonna post it in the first place cuz its a lot of work

Comic?

Mayhaps I has comic plz?

(No pressure of course)

okay alright man. I'm getting the pictures now

[thenoellebird]

*me who just realized I do not, in fact have the comic on my computer and do not, in fact have tumblr on my phone and have resorted to sending everything to myself and have just now realized that I have no pictures of the full pages, but I do have pictures of indivdual panels and there's no way in heck I'd find the drunk bill comic in my giant stack of drawings but there's probably too many images for just one post and I'm kind of doomed at this point so I'm sending it all to myself and I will not be providing a transcript*

Comic?

Mayhaps I has comic plz?

(No pressure of course)

okay alright man. I'm getting the pictures now

[thenoellebird]

Comic?

Mayhaps I has comic plz?

(No pressure of course)

okay alright man. I'm getting the pictures now

[thenoellebird]

Guess what I just put up for you guys!!

HERE'S A HAPPY CHAPTER Y'ALL!!

[thenoellebird]

Something I wrote

supposed to be for right after D&D&more D (the episode)

Its a nice little wholesome hug fic. Not exactly reconciliation but hey.

Hope you enjoy.

FOR THE RECORD:

ALL OF THIS IS PLATONIC, and if anyone tags it or IMPLIES OTHERWISE, I will BLOCK YOU! There's NO MERCY offered here.

if you're a proshipper, don't interact with my stuff.

____

After setting the rift back in his desk, Ford heaved a sigh as he looked at the remnants of the portal that still needed to be taken apart.

He put a hand on the metal door that led to the portal room, but hesitated, feeling exhausted from the events of the day.

A second later, the elevator dinged and Dipper came running back into his lab, a smile on his face.

“Great-Uncle Ford! It’s dinner time–you did say ‘call me for dinner’ earlier, right?” Dipper said altogether too quickly. Ford stared at him a moment, processing what he’d just heard and then shook himself.

“Oh! Yes, yes I did,” Ford said quickly. Dipper nodded excitedly and ran over to the elevator, Ford following with slower movements.

They were both silent for the elevator ride, and then climbing up the stairs–it was as though they didn’t know what to say to each other. Ford felt awkward and put his hands behind his back.

He cleared his throat as he pushed open the hidden door. “So. What did Stanley make for dinner?”

“He says it’s ‘tuscan chicken.’ Mabel and I have had it before, a month ago, I think. It was really good,” Dipper informed him with a bright, eager smile.

Ford made a noncommittal sound as they entered the kitchen. The aroma in the kitchen was warm and inviting, and Ford hoped that the food tasted as good as it smelled.

Mabel was already sitting at the table and Stan was walking over with two plates, and there were two more on the counter behind him. He set one steaming plate in front of Mabel, who was kicking her legs beneath the table since her feet didn’t yet touch the floor, and he set the other that he was holding in front of Dipper who sat up straight, looking eager and hungry. The young boy picked up his fork almost as though he was hoping nobody else would notice that he’d done so, glancing at his sister, who was patiently waiting for Stanley.

Stan smiled at Mabel as he came back to the table and slid one of the remaining two plates in front of Ford and took the last for himself.

“Alright, kiddos,” he said with a smile, reaching over and ruffling Mabel’s hair affectionately, and then turning to Dipper and knocking his hat askew. Dipper laughed and fixed his hat as his sister giggled and then they both immediately started eating. Stan chuckled as he watched them for a moment, simply enjoying the delighted expressions on the kids’ faces as they ate his cooking.

Ford, in turn, watched Stan for those few seconds, then, realizing that he was staring and that staring was considered rude in this dimension, turned his gaze to his food. He’d had difficulty with food for a few days after getting home, but he was starting to eat more regularly now, generally eating whenever the kids would–and generally eating whatever Stanley made for them. Stan had quickly caught on and had evidently started making enough for Ford, for which he was grateful.

But if he said “thank you” to Stanley, it might be taken the wrong way, so he refrained from speaking that phrase around his brother.

Ford took a bite of the tuscan chicken only to realize it tasted even better than it smelled. He gave a small sigh of satisfaction just after he swallowed. Thankfully Stanley was already eating his own dinner and not watching Ford.

He didn’t want to make a big deal out of liking the dish, but he couldn’t really help enjoying it. And as he did, he found himself staring out the window, wondering why he was so out of it.

At first, he’d chalked it up to exhaustion from the events of the day–since he’d spent it being chased by a wizard from his favorite game and nearly getting killed by ogres and almost having his brains eaten by said wizard–but he’d realized as he started eating that this wasn’t the case.

He’d also tried to chalk up his increased disconnection to stress, but it seemed that the stress and the disconnection stemmed from the same thing.

Ford didn’t figure out what it was until dinner was over and the twins were helping Stan clean up.

He saw Stan put a hand on Mabel’s shoulder and place a kiss on the top of her head before sending her off to play and he saw Stan lift Dipper up and set him on a chair so he could better reach the dishes he was attempting to wash.

He saw Stan flick water on Dipper and Dipper splash Stan right back, and saw the two of them laugh together. He saw Stan’s hand on Dipper’s head, ruffling his hair and saw Stan holding his nephew in a gentle hug before sending him off to play with his sister.

He saw Stanley drying the dishes with a small smile on his face, the light of joy still in his eyes. Stan wiped off the plate he was drying and smiled at it, but Ford could tell exactly what was on his mind.

And Ford now knew exactly what he wanted.

He wanted Stanley to touch his shoulder. He wanted Stan to splash him and splash his twin right back. He wanted to laugh with Stan and feel the warmth of his brother’s embrace around him.

He just wanted a hug.

Ford could’ve thrown himself into the bottomless pit out of embarrassment. He was still sitting frozen at the table, unable to speak or move due to his sudden realization. Stan was just finishing putting away dishes when he spotted Ford.

“Whatcha doin’ in here, Poindexter?” Stan asked gruffly, the smile fading off his face as the light of the leftover joy from the twins’ presence left his eyes, leaving them sad and cold. Ford shivered.

There’s no way I can…just…ask him for a hug. There’s no way I can just ask him to touch me.

Mabel would give you a hug if you asked her. She’d give you one even if you didn’t. Dipper might even hug you. Why can’t you go talk to them?

But…But I want Stanley to hug me.

It was so childish. So stupid. So incredibly simple and illogical that Ford decided he hated the feeling.

“Hey there, didja hear me?” Stan asked, waving a hand in front of Ford’s face. Ford slowly looked up at him, feeling more disconnected and lonely than ever.

“I–I didn’t–” Ford muttered, feeling anxious and awkward. “I–I’m not–I’m n-not sure–” Ford felt himself stutter and immediately got frustrated with himself. Professional scientists did not stutter. They stated their facts and observations clearly, with precision. No unnecessary words or stammering.

Stan looked at him quizzically. “Nobody’s takin’ time away from ya, Six. You can think over your words, if ya want to.”

Ford huffed. “I shouldn’t have to, Stanley, I’m a scientist, we’re supposed to be well-spoken,” Ford said quickly, regaining his ability to speak.

Ford looked down at Stan’s large strong arms and suddenly wished his brother would just reach around him and hug him tightly.

It was a burning sensation in his chest. He couldn’t remember being touched gently in the portal. And he just knew that Stan still gave the best hugs.

Stan scoffed at Ford’s statement and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just tryna help, I guess,” he muttered more to himself than to his brother, turning away and walking back to the counter.

No, no, no! Say something! DO SOMETHING!

Ford stood up and followed Stan, standing a few feet away from him, fidgeting nervously with his hands as emotions welled up inside him.

Stan didn’t notice for a moment as he started the dishwasher, but he jumped slightly when he turned around, clearly expecting Ford to still be at the table.

“Dang, Poindexter, what do you want?” Stan asked, cocking his head to the side. “Just say it!”

“I–I’m–” Ford tried, but he couldn’t get the words out.

“Come on, Ford, you’re a well-spoken scientist, apparently. Just let it out,” Stan said, rolling his eyes.

He was about to cross his arms. Ford knew he would cross his arms, and then Ford would never be able to hug him.

Ford’s breathing became shallow and his breath hitched as emotions made tears well up in his eyes.

Before Stan could cross his arms, Ford stepped across the few feet separating them and fell onto his brother, throwing his arms clumsily around Stan and pressing his face against his twin’s shoulder, bringing them chest to chest, holding the back of Stan’s suit tightly in his fists.

Stan froze completely for a moment. But then Ford felt all of Stan’s muscles relax as his brother wrapped his big arms around Ford, just like Ford wanted.

Stan was warm. So warm. And safe. Ford snuggled against his shoulder with a loud, embarrassing sniff. Stan’s arms were strong and warm and just like Ford had imagined. The burning pain of the longing was satiated and he felt like he was no longer on fire. The warm contact from his brother was solving his problem so easily, it was as though there hadn’t been one in the first place.

Ford felt himself melting into Stan’s hug like it was the easiest thing in the world. Stan’s arms tightened around him, squeezing him just enough that the pressure felt comforting. Ford closed his eyes and let his tears fall as he let Stan hold him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve asked.”

“No need,” Stan said gruffly. “I’ll always hug my brother, if he wants me to.”

Ford gripped Stan’s suit jacket more tightly. “I don’t want to let go. I’m…I’ve been alone…for…”

“It’s alright. I get it. This might be hugging, but we’re not fixed,” Stan told Ford softly. “But that doesn’t matter right now. You’re my brother. That’s what matters. So I’m going to hug you till you don’t need me to.”

“And if I said that maybe I need you to keep hugging me for the next few days?” Ford asked, unable to disguise the hope in his voice.

“Then I’ll hug you,” Stan murmured, leaning his head against Ford’s comfortably.

Ford shivered where he stood. “Can we keep it to ourselves and not tell the kids?” he whispered.

“Yeah, sure.”

A moment later, Stan was pushing Ford out of the wonderful hug. Ford’s body started burning with longing again and he whimpered, reaching for Stan.

“Ah, ah, ah. Come on. I got a better idea. Follow me,” Stan told him softly, putting his arm around Ford’s shoulders. “Come on.” He steered Ford out of the kitchen, past the living room where the kids were playing, and into Stan’s bedroom. “Come on, go lay down,” Stan told him, pushing him gently towards the bed as he shut the door.

Ford walked over and gingerly sat down on the bed, feeling like he didn’t belong.

But Stan obviously thought he did, because he sat down beside Ford and opened his arms. Ford clambered into his twin’s embrace eagerly and didn’t object when Stan lay down and pulled him close.

“This is much easier,” Stan sighed comfortably. “There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it? And now you can be close to me while I nap.”

Ford sighed contentedly and muttered something about napping too, but Stan only chuckled at him. Ford snuggled his head in Stan’s chest and Stan cuddled him closer, rubbing his hand up and down Ford’s back comfortably, brushing his curly gray hair away from his face.

“I love you, Ford,” he heard Stan whisper. And then–wonder of wonders–he felt pressure on the top of his head and knew that Stan had kissed him on the head, just like he would do with Mabel and Dipper.

Ford didn’t acknowledge it and just relished in the cuddling.

Their relationship might not have been fixed, but this…

…this was more than acceptable for now.

___

thanks for reading this random fluff drabble I wrote! I wasn't sure if it was long enough for Ao3. I'll probably repost it anyway tho. Hope you enjoyed!

[thenoellebird]

Something I wrote

supposed to be for right after D&D&more D (the episode)

Its a nice little wholesome hug fic. Not exactly reconciliation but hey.

Hope you enjoy.

FOR THE RECORD:

ALL OF THIS IS PLATONIC, and if anyone tags it or IMPLIES OTHERWISE, I will BLOCK YOU! There's NO MERCY offered here.

if you're a proshipper, don't interact with my stuff.

____

After setting the rift back in his desk, Ford heaved a sigh as he looked at the remnants of the portal that still needed to be taken apart.

He put a hand on the metal door that led to the portal room, but hesitated, feeling exhausted from the events of the day.

A second later, the elevator dinged and Dipper came running back into his lab, a smile on his face.

“Great-Uncle Ford! It’s dinner time–you did say ‘call me for dinner’ earlier, right?” Dipper said altogether too quickly. Ford stared at him a moment, processing what he’d just heard and then shook himself.

“Oh! Yes, yes I did,” Ford said quickly. Dipper nodded excitedly and ran over to the elevator, Ford following with slower movements.

They were both silent for the elevator ride, and then climbing up the stairs–it was as though they didn’t know what to say to each other. Ford felt awkward and put his hands behind his back.

He cleared his throat as he pushed open the hidden door. “So. What did Stanley make for dinner?”

“He says it’s ‘tuscan chicken.’ Mabel and I have had it before, a month ago, I think. It was really good,” Dipper informed him with a bright, eager smile.

Ford made a noncommittal sound as they entered the kitchen. The aroma in the kitchen was warm and inviting, and Ford hoped that the food tasted as good as it smelled.

Mabel was already sitting at the table and Stan was walking over with two plates, and there were two more on the counter behind him. He set one steaming plate in front of Mabel, who was kicking her legs beneath the table since her feet didn’t yet touch the floor, and he set the other that he was holding in front of Dipper who sat up straight, looking eager and hungry. The young boy picked up his fork almost as though he was hoping nobody else would notice that he’d done so, glancing at his sister, who was patiently waiting for Stanley.

Stan smiled at Mabel as he came back to the table and slid one of the remaining two plates in front of Ford and took the last for himself.

“Alright, kiddos,” he said with a smile, reaching over and ruffling Mabel’s hair affectionately, and then turning to Dipper and knocking his hat askew. Dipper laughed and fixed his hat as his sister giggled and then they both immediately started eating. Stan chuckled as he watched them for a moment, simply enjoying the delighted expressions on the kids’ faces as they ate his cooking.

Ford, in turn, watched Stan for those few seconds, then, realizing that he was staring and that staring was considered rude in this dimension, turned his gaze to his food. He’d had difficulty with food for a few days after getting home, but he was starting to eat more regularly now, generally eating whenever the kids would–and generally eating whatever Stanley made for them. Stan had quickly caught on and had evidently started making enough for Ford, for which he was grateful.

But if he said “thank you” to Stanley, it might be taken the wrong way, so he refrained from speaking that phrase around his brother.

Ford took a bite of the tuscan chicken only to realize it tasted even better than it smelled. He gave a small sigh of satisfaction just after he swallowed. Thankfully Stanley was already eating his own dinner and not watching Ford.

He didn’t want to make a big deal out of liking the dish, but he couldn’t really help enjoying it. And as he did, he found himself staring out the window, wondering why he was so out of it.

At first, he’d chalked it up to exhaustion from the events of the day–since he’d spent it being chased by a wizard from his favorite game and nearly getting killed by ogres and almost having his brains eaten by said wizard–but he’d realized as he started eating that this wasn’t the case.

He’d also tried to chalk up his increased disconnection to stress, but it seemed that the stress and the disconnection stemmed from the same thing.

Ford didn’t figure out what it was until dinner was over and the twins were helping Stan clean up.

He saw Stan put a hand on Mabel’s shoulder and place a kiss on the top of her head before sending her off to play and he saw Stan lift Dipper up and set him on a chair so he could better reach the dishes he was attempting to wash.

He saw Stan flick water on Dipper and Dipper splash Stan right back, and saw the two of them laugh together. He saw Stan’s hand on Dipper’s head, ruffling his hair and saw Stan holding his nephew in a gentle hug before sending him off to play with his sister.

He saw Stanley drying the dishes with a small smile on his face, the light of joy still in his eyes. Stan wiped off the plate he was drying and smiled at it, but Ford could tell exactly what was on his mind.

And Ford now knew exactly what he wanted.

He wanted Stanley to touch his shoulder. He wanted Stan to splash him and splash his twin right back. He wanted to laugh with Stan and feel the warmth of his brother’s embrace around him.

He just wanted a hug.

Ford could’ve thrown himself into the bottomless pit out of embarrassment. He was still sitting frozen at the table, unable to speak or move due to his sudden realization. Stan was just finishing putting away dishes when he spotted Ford.

“Whatcha doin’ in here, Poindexter?” Stan asked gruffly, the smile fading off his face as the light of the leftover joy from the twins’ presence left his eyes, leaving them sad and cold. Ford shivered.

There’s no way I can…just…ask him for a hug. There’s no way I can just ask him to touch me.

Mabel would give you a hug if you asked her. She’d give you one even if you didn’t. Dipper might even hug you. Why can’t you go talk to them?

But…But I want Stanley to hug me.

It was so childish. So stupid. So incredibly simple and illogical that Ford decided he hated the feeling.

“Hey there, didja hear me?” Stan asked, waving a hand in front of Ford’s face. Ford slowly looked up at him, feeling more disconnected and lonely than ever.

“I–I didn’t–” Ford muttered, feeling anxious and awkward. “I–I’m not–I’m n-not sure–” Ford felt himself stutter and immediately got frustrated with himself. Professional scientists did not stutter. They stated their facts and observations clearly, with precision. No unnecessary words or stammering.

Stan looked at him quizzically. “Nobody’s takin’ time away from ya, Six. You can think over your words, if ya want to.”

Ford huffed. “I shouldn’t have to, Stanley, I’m a scientist, we’re supposed to be well-spoken,” Ford said quickly, regaining his ability to speak.

Ford looked down at Stan’s large strong arms and suddenly wished his brother would just reach around him and hug him tightly.

It was a burning sensation in his chest. He couldn’t remember being touched gently in the portal. And he just knew that Stan still gave the best hugs.

Stan scoffed at Ford’s statement and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just tryna help, I guess,” he muttered more to himself than to his brother, turning away and walking back to the counter.

No, no, no! Say something! DO SOMETHING!

Ford stood up and followed Stan, standing a few feet away from him, fidgeting nervously with his hands as emotions welled up inside him.

Stan didn’t notice for a moment as he started the dishwasher, but he jumped slightly when he turned around, clearly expecting Ford to still be at the table.

“Dang, Poindexter, what do you want?” Stan asked, cocking his head to the side. “Just say it!”

“I–I’m–” Ford tried, but he couldn’t get the words out.

“Come on, Ford, you’re a well-spoken scientist, apparently. Just let it out,” Stan said, rolling his eyes.

He was about to cross his arms. Ford knew he would cross his arms, and then Ford would never be able to hug him.

Ford’s breathing became shallow and his breath hitched as emotions made tears well up in his eyes.

Before Stan could cross his arms, Ford stepped across the few feet separating them and fell onto his brother, throwing his arms clumsily around Stan and pressing his face against his twin’s shoulder, bringing them chest to chest, holding the back of Stan’s suit tightly in his fists.

Stan froze completely for a moment. But then Ford felt all of Stan’s muscles relax as his brother wrapped his big arms around Ford, just like Ford wanted.

Stan was warm. So warm. And safe. Ford snuggled against his shoulder with a loud, embarrassing sniff. Stan’s arms were strong and warm and just like Ford had imagined. The burning pain of the longing was satiated and he felt like he was no longer on fire. The warm contact from his brother was solving his problem so easily, it was as though there hadn’t been one in the first place.

Ford felt himself melting into Stan’s hug like it was the easiest thing in the world. Stan’s arms tightened around him, squeezing him just enough that the pressure felt comforting. Ford closed his eyes and let his tears fall as he let Stan hold him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve asked.”

“No need,” Stan said gruffly. “I’ll always hug my brother, if he wants me to.”

Ford gripped Stan’s suit jacket more tightly. “I don’t want to let go. I’m…I’ve been alone…for…”

“It’s alright. I get it. This might be hugging, but we’re not fixed,” Stan told Ford softly. “But that doesn’t matter right now. You’re my brother. That’s what matters. So I’m going to hug you till you don’t need me to.”

“And if I said that maybe I need you to keep hugging me for the next few days?” Ford asked, unable to disguise the hope in his voice.

“Then I’ll hug you,” Stan murmured, leaning his head against Ford’s comfortably.

Ford shivered where he stood. “Can we keep it to ourselves and not tell the kids?” he whispered.

“Yeah, sure.”

A moment later, Stan was pushing Ford out of the wonderful hug. Ford’s body started burning with longing again and he whimpered, reaching for Stan.

“Ah, ah, ah. Come on. I got a better idea. Follow me,” Stan told him softly, putting his arm around Ford’s shoulders. “Come on.” He steered Ford out of the kitchen, past the living room where the kids were playing, and into Stan’s bedroom. “Come on, go lay down,” Stan told him, pushing him gently towards the bed as he shut the door.

Ford walked over and gingerly sat down on the bed, feeling like he didn’t belong.

But Stan obviously thought he did, because he sat down beside Ford and opened his arms. Ford clambered into his twin’s embrace eagerly and didn’t object when Stan lay down and pulled him close.

“This is much easier,” Stan sighed comfortably. “There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it? And now you can be close to me while I nap.”

Ford sighed contentedly and muttered something about napping too, but Stan only chuckled at him. Ford snuggled his head in Stan’s chest and Stan cuddled him closer, rubbing his hand up and down Ford’s back comfortably, brushing his curly gray hair away from his face.

“I love you, Ford,” he heard Stan whisper. And then–wonder of wonders–he felt pressure on the top of his head and knew that Stan had kissed him on the head, just like he would do with Mabel and Dipper.

Ford didn’t acknowledge it and just relished in the cuddling.

Their relationship might not have been fixed, but this…

…this was more than acceptable for now.

___

thanks for reading this random fluff drabble I wrote! I wasn't sure if it was long enough for Ao3. I'll probably repost it anyway tho. Hope you enjoyed!

[thenoellebird]

somebody give Stan a hug ;n;

[thenoellebird]

some pictures i found where ford is rly giving cat 🐈‍⬛ . mostly to cheer myself up and figured id just put em on the feed. i love this silly old man

[thenoellebird]

I am Noelle, god of the angel.

I'm only the god of one. Not sure where the rest are.

don't worry about responding, guys, I just thought you'd think this was funny XD

@biggirlscantcry @ryanishyperfixating @aroace-get-out-of-my-face

I am Arran, god of the most important thing

EDIT: if y'all don’t wanna use your name use your username