Collection Of Posts For A Very Specific Dynamic

Ever-hunger Demon (separate frames under the cut)

Task: Cut cucumbers

Task: Failed My headcanon is Bill is an incredible glutton and actually eats at every opportunity, as if it's just like almost constant hunger, he can't do much about it, and sometimes it's hard to wait for a full meal when there's a whole bowl of goodies (also if he doesn't eat - he just won't pay attention to hunger, you know, that's how it works in real life too!)

I also think he's a good cook if he really wants to cook, as if sometimes enjoying food is such hedonism indulging gluttony, and sometimes he's a dirty feral pushing something that has long since died down his throat

And I think Melody is literally 1 of 2 responsible adults who generally cares about eating properly in this house. The second adult is Stan. The rest are either lazy, or inexperienced, or who forget to eat at all xD

Just thinking about how mullet Stan would sob if he knew his future. Just the most soulful, happy tears ever. He did it. He fixed the portal. He saved his brother. He saved the *world*. He has a family and they actually love him. He's old and on adventures with his twin and has a psuedo-son that he passes his business on to. He punched a pterodactyl in the face and fought zombies and seemingly destroyed a being that was as close to a god as he could imagine.

I feel like I would have been diagnosed with OCD a lot earlier if the vast majority of screening questions (for mental illnesses in general) weren't based on the person's perception of their own behavior, in isolation. and what i mean by that is asking someone with OCD "do you wash your hands excessively?" is not a good question.

a person with OCD believes they are washing their hands the correct number of times. it's not excessive. we believe we're exhibiting best practices and helping to keep everything clean.

better questions might be, "does it seem like you wash your hands a lot more than your friends or family?" "do you get dry patches or cuts on your hands from washing your hands?" "do you find it deeply distressing, more so than how you've seen other people react, when you get something on your hands that you can't clean off right away?"

being asked "are you overly preoccupied with bugs, symmetry, and contamination?" also got "no" responses from me years ago in my life. what they didn't ask for, and didn't know, was what *exactly* I was doing in my day to day life that genuinely ate up my time and mental space to a concerning degree, but I *didn't know* that other people don't do this.

"do you spend a lot of time cleaning?" -> no, it's not a lot. it's a good amount. why?

"do you become frustrated because it seems like no one else meets your organizational and cleanliness standards - do you often 'take over' for other people because they can't do it right - do new friends seem surprised by how strict you can be about your living space?" -> oh. yeah. yeah I get it now.

Fun Story to Share.

I got my (now 18-year-old) daughter into Ao3 back in 2021. I taught her she should always comment - even if the fic looks old or abandoned or whatever. She did.

Well - she got this email this morning:

The fic was written in 2014 and essentially abandoned.

Bethy read and reviewed in 2021 (and was actually the only person who had commented at all).

Today in 2025 - the final chapter was posted by the author and this was her reply to Bethy’s comment.

———

Never question whether a fic is too old to comment on.

Do these people know their fanfictions aren't canon, like this is some made up bullshit.

"they think of each other as brothers" no, they don't

"they canonically love their wives" anyone who has read Naruto Gaiden and Boruto knows this isn't true. Loveless marriages where Sasuke goes zero contact with Sakura for years and Naruto sleeps in a separate bedroom from Hinata and would rather send clones than go home himself.

"have kids that they love with them" Naruto doesn't give a fuck about Himawari and Sarada has acknowledged her dad, Sasuke would rather spend time with Boruto than her. Plus Sasuke and Naruto have both talked how Boruto resembles them both, that's the reason why they like him, specifically.

Hmm I wonder why ao3 didn’t like that

mom said it's my turn to recontextualize prior gravity falls episodes into something sad 👓

Hey, I was possessed with the need to write this interaction but with no story to tie it to, so now here's this. Takes place post canon.

While sailing with his brother over the last nine months had been everything they'd needed and more, Ford was willing to admit it was good to be back in Gravity Falls. The time with his brother had healed some deep ache inside his chest, but knowing hed soon beseeing his grand niece and nephew, along with all the residents and old friends he'd left behind, was a similar balm.

What wasn't a balm was the monstrosity built behind what had once been his house.

Since Soos had moved into the shack with his girlfriend and grandmother, the Pines were now technically homeless. Soos had been very willing to move back to his old house, but Stan had simply said he'd 'handled' it and not to worry. Ford had been very worried, but he was trying to learn how to trust his brother again, and had simply left him to it.

This proved to be a mistake, as now there was a second, terrible house now built behind the first. It was further in the woods so as to be outside the idle view of visiting tourists, bit still close enough to be considered in its back yard.

Ford stared at it, feeling some kind of emotion as Stan burst through the front door and starting hauling in their luggage. Everything on the ground and second floor was made of a sturdy dark wood, with a green front door and circular windows. If he kept looking at just that, he could almost pretend it was a normal house.

Unfortunately he couldn't, and his gaze moved to the third floor that had been built with what looked like purple wood and colorful stained glass windows depicting several familiar images, had a balcony, a slide, and what could be an observatory, topped with a multicolored rainbow roof. The whole house was built around a giant pine tree, with its large branches casting shade across the entire structure. There was no way to know what the inside looked line without looking, but he was to enraptured with the strange upper floors and the fact that the more he looked, the more he noticed the strangeness carried over to the bottom floors as well.

There were small wards carved around the doorways and windows, one of the second floor windows was suspiciously hinged, as if built to be jumped out of dramatically, and if he leaned to the side he could see what looked like a large porch wrapping around the back with built in seating, a swing, several cannond, and a giant slingshot.

Too many windows were vaguely pig shaped to mistake who helped design the whole thing.

"Stanley," he called, grabbing the suitcase at his feet and dragging it inside, "what is this."

"What's it look like Six!" Stan called out from deeper in the house, "It's our new digs!"

"Let me clarify," Ford followed the sound of his brothers rummaging to find him in what had to be the living room, leaning back in cozy looking couch holding a soda, "why do we have another house, why does it look like this, and where did you get the funds for it, because I know our findings weren't enough to cover a project this large."

"Soos is still taking up space in the shack with his lady friend, so we needed someplace to stay," Stan said, wiggling deeper into the couch, "I asked Mabel to help design it with Dipper. Told her to go wild, because-"

"I GAVE YOUR EVIL CLONE A MILLION DOLLARS!" Fiddleford screamed into Fords ear, cackling as Ford shouted and jumped away, then scuttling over the the couch to climb onto the back and sit hunched over.

"What he said," Stan said with a smirk, sipping his soda as Ford rubbed his ear and scowled.

"Fiddleford, always good to see you. Why are you giving my brother a million dollars."

"Hey, he didn't give it to me, he paid me. I'm doing him an expensive service here."

"Really?" Ford raised an eyebrow, then turned towards Fiddleford with a questioning tilt of his head, "what on earth are you paying Stanley a million dollars for?"

"Hey," Stan said, eyes darting around suspiciously as Fords narrowed, "we don't need to worry about the details, just-"

"He done did tell me he'd stop swerving to hit me with his car if I have him a million greeneronies!" Fiddleford cackled, then leaned in and held up a hand and pointed at Stan behind it, like he was sharing a secret.

"Poor fool don't get that i got one over on 'em!"

"I see." Ford put his hands behind his back as he watched his brother start to sweat and Fiddleford chuckled to himself, "and why is that something you need to pay Stan for?"

"Ain't it obvious?" Fiddleford gave him a pitying look, like he was the strange one here, "Stan here has the car, I need to pay him to get him to stop."

"Sounds like good reasoning to me!" Stan yelled, hunching further into the couch and avoiding eye contact, "I hit man, man pays me not to keep doing that. Let's continue on with out lives."

"No, I think I'm a bit stuck on the fact you've been hitting my friend with your car. On purpose it sounds like."

"Hey!" Stan sat up, outraged, "don't make it sound like I was the only one doing it! Lots of people hit McGucket with their cars! He ran out in the road all the time!"

"Its true Stanford, I wasn't in the best place for a while," Fiddleford sighed, then grabbed his hat and clutched it to his chest, "I'd just wander around all willy-nilly, and good all Stan here was the only one who'd remind me to always be aware of traffic. Never know when a car will smash through a guard rail, destroy some fencing, then try to slam into you as the driver yells 'fifty McGucket points!' Or somethin' out the window."

Ford had never seen his brother rehunch and look away so fast.