Gravity Falls Kink Meme Post #1

[kink_falls]

Tentative rules of the meme, cribbed and modified from mcu-kink-meme:

- Generally speaking, let's keep it anonymous - you may deanon to link your fills, but otherwise, keep it anon.
- Post with a subject line indicating character or pairing and prompt content (eg. Character/Character; prompt keyword). Mark your fills.
- If you leave a prompt, try to fill a prompt! Fills can be fic, art, sock puppets, etc. Also, multiple fills are welcome and encouraged.
- This kink meme is Choose Not to Warn. You're not required to warn for content or spoilers, but are encouraged to do so, especially for common squicks and triggers.
- Crossovers are welcome.
- Respect anons' squicks - for example, if someone asks for no noncon in their prompt, do not post a fill with noncon. Disrespecting this will result in your comment being deleted. This includes pairings.
- Similarly, be respectful of everyone's kinks. Kinkshaming will not be tolerated.
- No embeds, prompt-hijacking, or negative comments. Mods retain the right to freeze or delete at will.

The most important thing, however, is to be good to each other, post kinky prompts, and write kinky fic!

* Fills master post: https://kinky-falls.dreamwidth.org/1110.html
* Discussion post: https://kinky-falls.dreamwidth.org/1435.html
* Page a Mod: http://kinky-falls.dreamwidth.org/742.html
* AO3 collection: Kinky_Falls
* Anonymous AO3 collection: Kinky_FallsAnon

Want to be banned to ensure you don't accidentally anonfail? Leave a comment over here, and fear no more.

Important: Don't want to see certain kinks or pairings? Check out Dreamwidth Blocker! It's easy to install and use, and works on the same principle as Tumblr Savior or Xkit's blacklist. If you have any questions about installing or using it, head over to the mod post and I'll do what I can to help you out.

Phew, I think that's all. Happy kinking!


Regular view: https://kinky-falls.dreamwidth.org/263.html#comments
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(IP logging is off, unless otherwise noted.)

Comments

Fills

[(Anonymous)]

Link to your fills here!

Re: Fills

[(Anonymous)]

mast head (Stan/Bill, dreamscape torture):
https://kinky-falls.dreamwidth.org/263.html?thread=4103#cmt4103

Prompt Example: Stan/Bill (Noncon)

[(Anonymous)]

(This is an example of how to prompt - note that I warned for noncon in the title, which is not necessary but helpful to everyone who wants to avoid certain kinks or triggers.)

Stan/Bill, Bill fucking with Stan in the mindscape. Can be consensual, dubcon, or straight-up noncon.

Bonus points: Bill doing weird shit with tentacles that Stan is not sure about at first.

Re: Prompt Example: Stan/Bill (Noncon) - FILL

[(Anonymous)]

[note: dub-con, phobias, bestiality, dream logic. It's also my first time writing GF!]

mast head

Stan won't look down, and Bill isn't forcing him to do anything yet, so he just watches the grey fucking clouds and the grey fucking seagulls. They look just like the ones he used to deal with in Jersey. Of course they do - his brain made them, just like it made the clouds and the rope straining against his wrists and ankles, and the white sail fluttering behind him. And the plunge, underneath him.

"Enjoying the view?" Bill asks, and Stan is going to be so fucking charming that Bill won't make him look down or fall.

"It's great," he says, and it almost comes out friendly. "I like the breeze. Nice touch."

Bill chuckles, and Stan feels rope curling around his shins. Good. The stronger he's secured here, the better he'll feel.

"Oh, I know you like the sea," Bill croons. "This is like, your dream vacation, isn't it?"

"It is," he says, and fuck, that came out too fake. "I mean, it's no yacht pleasure cruise, but I'll take it."

"Yeah? Are you saying I don't pleasure you enough?"

Careful, now. "It's up to you, Bill." Bill loves hearing that, even though he's got to know Stan's trying to play him. "I'm in the mood, if you are."

Bill giggles, and Stan feels the rope around his legs vibrate and warm up. If Bill drops him now, Stan is going to -

- falling isn't enough to wake him up anymore.

Instead, the rope curls up further, tightening around his knees, and wiggling up between his thighs. Stan doesn't know what he was wearing a minute ago, but he's naked now, and the rope is coarse and feels filthy, and Stan can't do this, up here.

"Yeah? My cock's not good enough for you to touch anymore?" He's pushing his luck, probably. He doesn't want the rope touching him like that. Everything about it feels disgusting, and not in the usual way. Maybe he's just going crazier.

"What's wrong now?" Bill sounds concerned, almost. "How many special requests do you expect me to grant here?"

"Just -" Stan smiles for him. "Could you make it a little classier? Like a ribbon or something? I'm not saying I've got the best dick you've ever seen, but -"

Bill laughs. The rope changes, and whatever it was - living hair? something worse? - changes into smooth, cold scales. Oh yeah. Stan can take this.

The snake slides up his stomach, chest, pulls away. It has a face. Ugly yellow little Bill-eyes.

"Hey," he says, and he's almost happy to see the snake. "Are you venomous or something?"

The snake opens its jaw, shows soft pink fangs. It's still holding his legs securely against the wood of the mast. Stan laughs. He can definitely do this. "Thank you, Bill," and it sounds sincere, and that's a victory right now.

"You boys have fun," Bill says. "I'm gonna go look for land!"

Bill sits on a dove - a white one, with a fucking olive branch - and disappears.

"It's just you and me," Stan lies to the snake. "Show me what you got."

The snake slides back down, leaving a cold and dry trail of friction across his chest.

It opens its jaw and closes it around Stan's cock. It's so cold, and has a tongue that spirals up around him. It's great. It's fine. So long as the snake doesn't drop him, he's going to have fun.

And the snake's hold on Stan's ankles begins to loosen.

Stancest, Rico made them do it, noncon

[(Anonymous)]

Stan and Ford have a run in with some of Stan's old enemies, Ford gets incapacitated. The bad guys give Stan a choice: fuck his brother or watch him die. Stan chooses the former.

Re: Stancest, Rico made them do it, noncon - FILL

[(Anonymous)]

[contains: non-con, homophobic language, violence, negative feelings on incest, mentions of Stan/others and Ford/Bill.]

They have Ford tied and gagged, and maybe Stan's got a chance of getting them out of this alive.

He knows Rico, whose real name is Jeremy, who likes seeing his men fight each other over literal scraps, who made Stan strip down for him in a parking lot that one time. Stan is bad at handling the type of guy that Rico is - it's really hard to hold back on the urge to punch them out. Come to think of it, that's how all this started.

But with Rico, he knows where to start with getting out of it.

He takes off his fez and gets down on his knees. His knees protest harder than they used to.

"What can I do for you?" he asks. Rico thinks he likes it when people get to the point. "You know I don't have the money." Rico doesn't care about the money. Rico cares that Stan got away, and even got in a good parting shot. Rico is an old man now, with pale watery eyes, and he's probably got nothing to do but lick old wounds.

"Ahh." He has a knife, scratches his own dirty chin with it. Idiot. "Stanley. We thought you were dead."

"Yeah," Stan says. "That was kinda the point."

Rico laughs, and then the knife is pressed against Stan's lips. "I missed you, Stanley."

"Missed you too, Rico," he says. Rico's hand isn't as steady as it used to be. Stan pulls away just a little, licks the blood away from his lips. They didn't even tie his hands or anything - they didn't need to.

"I like your brother," Rico says, and there it is. "He's spirited. Took out two of my guys. Guess he's not a spineless cocksucker like you."

"Yeah," Stan says. "He's the better twin." Ford isn't knocked out, but they tied him up right. "Always upstaging me and junk. Never cared for him much."

Rico moves toward Ford, and Stan can't help it, he twitches. Rico's smile's gotten uglier with time.

"Here's the deal, Stanley." Stan looks up at him. "I kill your spirited brother and you walk away free - I'll even call you a cab. Or you convince him to get down on his knees and suck me off. You've got -" he checks his fucking Rolex - "three minutes."

Stan stands up, stiff and aching. He takes a quick glance at the ring of men around them. There's at least ten, probably more. Professionals.

He starts untying Ford, and feels their gaze on him. They took away Ford's glasses. He's moving around, pissed off, and Stan sighs. He takes the gag out of his mouth.

"Stanley, explain." Ford's got his mission leader voice on. Below the fear, below the adrenaline, Stan feels a spike of pure annoyance.

"Once upon a time, I did a bunch of stupid shit." He's done untying Ford, and massages his wrists quickly. There's a bruise on Ford's cheek, and a ring of them around his throat. "And now it's caught up with me, so you're going to go and suck the nice gentleman off, and then we go home."

"The nice gentleman," Ford says.

"I'm the nicest gentleman you'll ever meet," Rico says, and spits. Stan can't believe this guy lived to see seventy without getting taken down by one of his own men.

"Look," Stan says, quick and quiet. "I'm sorry, okay? But this isn't like the shit you're used to, there's no - magic goblin that's going to jump into the volcano and save the day. There's no shortcut. I can't protect you if you don't do what he says."

Ford's looking at him like - well, Stan doesn't know what that look means. Probably something along the lines of 'this is what you were doing while I was away discovering the secrets of the universe?'. But Stan will take the pity and the disgust, so long as Ford listens to him, just this once.

Ford stands up. He looks younger than usual, maybe it's just the bad lighting. He walks over to Rico, who's cleaning his teeth with the knife. And then Ford kneels.

"Hell, this one's got crazy eyes," Rico says, and Stan feels his hands curl into fists. "I'm not putting my dick in him. Boys? Any takers?" Silence from the ranks. Rico was never that great at keeping up morale. Not that great at keeping his dick up, either - Stan should have seen this coming.

"I guess that leaves you, Stanley."

It's not the biggest surprise. But Stan needs a moment to snap back to the present and get himself moving.

He can think of at least four things he could say about the proud tradition of brotherfucking in Jeremy's heritage - it would be a quick death, maybe. Rico doesn't have a taste for long games.

He stands in front of Ford and can't even look at him.

He doesn't know where Ford stands on blowjobs usually, but when he unzips Stan, it feels calm, like a normal thing to do.

"Go ahead," Rico says. "Give us a show." He laughs, for his guys. "Anyone got one of those camera phones? We can put it on the internet. Disgusting geezers dot com." Not a single chuckling deputy. Tough crowd.

Stan looks down, and Ford's looking at him steadily. Well, okay. If he wants eye-contact, the least Stan can do is provide it.

Ford's fingers are cold and sharp, and he holds Stan's soft cock with care, like he's handling an experiment. Stan wonders if that's how Ford's explaining this to himself. Test Case B: fuckup twin brother's fucked-up phallus. Responds to the all the usual things, even if they're coming from the wrong place.

Ford licks the head, and then looks up at him again.

"Any time now is fine," Rico jeers. "As long as you boys are having fun."

Stan wonders if Ford knows how to deep-throat, and if Rico's going to insist on it. Probably. He puts a hand on Ford's head, and Ford doesn't jerk away. He takes Stan in his mouth - and Stan's not soft anymore, not exactly hard either.

Stan closes his eyes, and Ford sucks him, and lets him hold his hair. Ford's mouth is nice, it's just a mouth, and it's been more than ten years since anyone's done this for Stan. Longer since he was on the other end.

"Faster!" Rico snaps.

Ford takes him in deep and pulls back, then he does it more quickly. He feels steady and he feels like he knows what he's doing. Stan should take the time and think over their options, but the thing is, Rico can't be outsmarted, he's too rich and too well-guarded for it.

Maybe it's just that Stan can't think.

He makes sure to let go of Ford's hair - he was pulling on it. And he was pushing forward, a little, like an eager kid or something, he was going to fuck Ford's mouth for real. He would do that too, if he had to.

He stays really, really still and Ford speeds up again. He's definitely done it before.

When Ford puts a hand around the base of Stan's cock, Stan's about ready to come. A squeeze would do it, or if Ford touched his balls. He's not sure if that's what's supposed to happen, but hey, at least they'd get it over with.

"Ford," he says, quiet, and Ford pulls off. He jerks Stan off, precise as a doctor, and doesn't say anything at all when Stan comes, and stains Ford's sweater.

He still wants that eye-contact. Stan's not sure if Ford hates him now, not sure if there's any other possibility.

"That was impressive!" Rico says. "Held out for a while there, Stanley. Did someone train you out of shooting your load immediately?"

"Age and experience," Stan croaks. He needs to keep it together. "Rico, I'm sorry I disrespected you. We did what you wanted, and I'm off of your turf now. Will you let us go?"

He's going to beg harder, if he has to. But Rico smiles, and lets the knife clatter to the ground.

"I'm satisfied," he says. "And so are you, clearly. Your brother doesn't seem to be."

Ford is hard. He's still kneeling, hands still on his lap. He doesn't look like what happened here affected him at all.

Stanley doesn't know what to do about it. He stands between Ford and Rico, makes sure it's not a challenge. Maybe it comes out as a challenge anyway.

"We did what you asked," he says, in his feeble old man voice. "Please, just let h - let us go." He's willing to bargain down, but he's not going to lower his opening bid.

"You did," Rico says. "Maybe I should have thought of something more impressive for you to do. You just stood there."

Stan imagines the sensation of breaking through Rico's face. He stays still, and Ford is completely still too, on the ground behind him.

"You can go," Rico says,. "Take your brother and just walk out, Stanley."

Stan grips Ford's shoulder, pulls hip up to stand. He won't let go of him right now. "Thank you," he grits out to Rico, and then, again, much more successfully, "Thanks."

"Make sure to lock your doors at night, boys," Rico says, soft. "I might just drop by and pay you a visit sometime."

But the ring of followers opens up, and Stan and Ford can walk through.

Ford doesn't say anything as they leave the warehouse, walk down the snowy road. It isn't even morning yet. Stan doesn't say anything either, but he finds them a motel. Their coats stayed with Rico, so he stands in front of Ford to cover the stain. The receptionist doesn't give a damn, and accepts the crumpled notes Stan kept in his pants. He can't afford two rooms, or two nights.

"Is he following us?" Ford asks, once they're alone. He sheds his sweater and folds it, neatly. "Is Rico going to attack again tonight?"

"No," Stan says, and it comes out too eager in his relief that Ford's still talking to him. "No, he's probably already left town. He won't be back for a while."

"Good." Ford sits on the shitty double bed. "Are you injured, Stanley?"

"Am I - uh, no. I'm fine. And you?" He feels heat rise to his face, because that's how Stan is. Useless in a life-or-death situation, and then even more useless later.

"I'm not hurt," Ford says, and his face is all twisted and swollen on one side. It almost looks like he's smiling.

"So," Stan doesn't know how to ask it. "Are you gonna leave tomorrow?"

"Of course. We are on our way home."

"Not with me. Look - I know this is all my fault, don't fucking be nice about it for the first time in your life. If you don't want to see me again, just tell me right now."

And it's rich of Stan to be making demands here, but he doesn't need Ford's pity.

"Stanley," Ford says. "Am I right in thinking you and Rico used to be lovers?"

It was never anything like love, but - "Something like that. Yeah."

"Well," Ford is definitely smiling. Maybe Stan broke his brain. "Your ex is still better than mine."

Stan sits down on the bed too.

"I don't know about that," Stan says.

"Trust me," Ford says. "Definitely better." He stretches, like some kind of big bare-armed cat. "Rico caught us unaware, that's all. It won't be like this next time."

"Next time?"

Ford leans over, squeezes his shoulder. "Next time, we're going to destroy him."

Stan doesn't pull away, and almost kind of believes it.

Dipper/Mabel, piss kink

[(Anonymous)]

They're leaving a college party and Mabel ends up having to pee in a semi-public spot. Dipper is supposed to be her lookout but ends up watching her.

Re: Dipper/Mabel, piss kink

[(Anonymous)]

Nice!

Wendy/Pacifica, messy rough sex

[(Anonymous)]

Pacifica's so neat and prim all the time, Wendy likes to make a mess of her (I'd prefer them aged up a little).

Re: Wendy/Pacifica, messy rough sex - fill

[(Anonymous)]

On AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10010657

It ended up a lot less rough and messy than I'd intended, oops!

Stan/Ford, sex swing

[(Anonymous)]

Or, if you prefer, sex on a swing. Or under one!

Re: Stan/Ford, sex swing - fill, teen!Stans

[(Anonymous)]

Above him, Ford laughs and tries to hush him at the same time. Lotta good that does.

"Who's gonna hear?" Stan says.

"So help me," Ford says, gulping down his laughter. "Be quiet!"

This time, Stan yells. "Who's gonna hear?"

His voice echoes weirdly across the dunes; a couple of seagulls take flight, their silhouettes pale and sleek in the moonlight. Ford kicks him in the stomach, not that hard, not really, but Stan still whines pathetically and sags forward. His face, conveniently, incidentally, lands at the crook of Ford's thigh and crotch. Ford jerks in surprise and clamps his legs against Stan's head.

"Stanley!"

"No one's gonna hear," Stan says, "'cause nobody else is awake." He doesn't bother moving his face, speaking directly against the half-hard curve of Ford's cock. Ford huffs out a noisy breath and tightens his thighs against Stan. "Relax."

He cups the underside of Ford's thighs and lifts them. Ford takes the hint. He swings his legs over Stan's shoulders, bracing his weight back against the swing. The chains creak in protest. Something about the movement feels definitive; their moods temper at the same time, leaving behind the softer thrill of anticipation. Suddenly, the ocean crashing into the shore seems overwhelming, taking the place of the sound of Stan's racing pulse.

It's in this space that they might lose their nerve. Stan smiles up at Ford and gives his thighs a little squeeze. "Guess you were right," he says. "Those seagulls might've ratted us out."

Ford snorts. "Right."

Stan rubs the outside of Ford's thighs, to steady him. Ford, that is. Stan is perfectly steady, his heart thrumming because he's excited and horny and ready to go. Ford squirms a little in the seat, his heels bumping against Stan's back. This close, Stan can smell Ford's body, the sharp tang of sweat, the clean salt smell of a day spent in the sun. Sawdust, too, faint, from their work on the Stan O'War. And the darker smell of his arousal; Stan's been teasing him all day, almost jerked him off after lunch, when they'd sleepily leaned against each other in the cabin and daydreamed. The smell of Ford's body sets off something primal in Stan, a protectiveness, a tenderness, a need that's not just any one thing, but all of him.

Stan kisses the seam of Ford's jeans on the inside of his thigh, slow. The chains of the swing jingle. He kisses again, and again, turning his head every other kiss, until Ford is panting under his breath and he's trembling in little bursts of movement. "Stanley," he says, low, desperate. That just about does it, for Stan, his cock stiffening, uncomfortable and tight against his own jeans. He doesn't let it show in his face, just keeps mouthing his way up and down Ford's thighs, zigzagging in tandem with the strokes of his hands. He's made Ford come like this, before. Might this time, too, though Stan really wants the taste of his brother in his mouth, wants to see the subtle way Ford's cock twitches when he traces its veins with his tongue.

"Stan," Ford says again, high-pitched this time.

"What happened to being quiet?"

"You - scared away the potential informants. C'mon." He reaches down; for a second, Stan thinks he's going to touch himself, but then he surprises Stan by touching him, instead, his thumb running up Stan's jaw, his palm cresting over Stan's ear. Stan shudders and leans into the touch. "You're frustrating, you know that?"

"Coming from the most frustrating guy I know," Stan says, "I'll take that as a compliment." Stan sucks at the heel of Ford's hand, then takes pity on him, finally, and undoes Ford's jeans. The undignified noise Ford makes when Stan slides his underwear down is the best thing Stan's heard all week. Easy. He stops there, for a minute, just taking in the sight of Ford, unsteady and flushed, his thighs open around Stan's shoulders, his dick hard, a drop of precome waiting to be licked away. His hair is unkempt, hasn't been brushed in days. He's burnt all to hell. And he's smiling, a crooked, excited thing, like he's about to learn something new.

Maybe he will, too. Stan presses his face up against him, nuzzling at his hips and the side of his cock, breathing in the heavy sweat-smell of him. Ford slides his hand through his hair, once, then again, then just holds the back of his head, loosely, as Stan starts to kiss and lick at Ford's cock. Ford squirms, his hips arching toward Stan - and Stan lets his mouth open around him when he does, finally sucking the head of Ford's cock into his mouth, what they've both wanted since Stan knelt here and started teasing him. Ford's thighs tighten against Stan's shoulders and he digs his ankles into Stan's back.

That's all the warning Stan gets before he starts to thrust into Stan's mouth. He starts shallow and slow, getting used to the angle and the way he has to shift his weight against the swing; Stan relaxes his jaw, sucking in slow pulses as he does. The swing creaks, rhythmic, frantic even at this slow pace; the ocean rolls in with its prehistoric thrum; somewhere, over the dunes, a seagull lets out an angry caw as it lights back on its nest. And over all of that, so good to Stan that it supersedes that all, are Ford's unsteady moans, suppressed and choked-back at first, then louder as he finds purchase against Stan, as his muscled thighs tense and relax.

The lines of who's in control blur as Ford thrusts into him. Stan slips a hand up Ford's shirt, feeling the muscles of his stomach coil with each thrust, then higher, seeking Ford's heartbeat. He wants to feel the unsteady way Ford is panting. He wants what he always wants - to be there for Ford. To make it good for him. For Ford to need him as much as he needs Ford.

It doesn't take long for Ford to come, his body arching up, his hand twisting abruptly in Stan's hair. Stan lets him come in his mouth, watches him as he does, as Ford's lips part wordlessly, his eyes screwed shut. He's quiet. Someday, when they live together, Stan will coax him into being loud; tonight, Stan listens hard for the hitched inhale, the suppressed whine as Ford's cock twitches in his mouth.

When it passes, Stan pulls off him and sticks his tongue out, so Ford can see his come, there, can watch it drip in strings off his tongue and lips. Ford shudders and covers his eyes. Stan laughs and spits it onto the sand.

"You gonna just let me suffer down here?" Stan asks, before Ford's really recovered. He sits up on his knees, fast, taking Ford's thighs with him - Ford yelps and nearly topples out of the swing - probably would've if not for Stan's grip on his shirt and thigh.

Ford swings his legs off Stan's shoulders and leans forward. "Maybe I will," he says. "Give me a reason not to."

Stan thumbs his jeans open, like that's reason enough.

Ford swallows. Maybe it is. He slides gracelessly out of the swing into Stan's lap and takes him in his hand; when Stan leans in to kiss him, Ford doesn't protest, lets his mouth open for Stan, his tongue flicking up to meet Stan's.

It really only takes that, that first messy, wet kiss, so Stan's glad Ford grabbed him on his way down and started jerking in quick, calculated movements. Less embarrassing that way when he comes, groaning into Ford's mouth, his hips arching up to meet Ford.

Ford begins to laugh again, softly, the huff of each laugh vibrating against Stan's mouth. Like that, the bubble that formed around them breaks; Stan starts to laugh, too, light-headed, happier to be alone with his brother on the beach than he ever could be anywhere else, with anyone else. He tips Ford back onto the sand and leans over him.

"Think we should charge those seagulls?" he asks.

Ford nods - but Stan doesn't give him the chance to respond. He bends down and kisses the thought out of him, until the world dilates to just the pleasure of being with each other in this quiet place.

Stan, cigarette burns (violence)

[(Anonymous)]

There are other marks Stan hides under his shirt. One of them is a memento from a guy he owed a lot of money to.

(Note: if you like, you're welcome to include non-con.)

Re: Stan, cigarette burns (violence)

[(Anonymous)]

[Pretty non-con, takes a while to get warmed up.]

It's a nice, warm day after Weirdmageddon, and all Stan wants to do is kick back and relax with a cold one. Ford is out at City Hall, trying to sort out the legal mess Stan made with his identity switcharoo, and the kids are out back, playing Time Cops and Robbers with their water guns. And Stan, clad in just his undershirt and boxers, is just about to settle down to an afternoon of watching The Duchess Approves marathon on TV when there's a knock on the door.

"Alright, alright," he grumbles as he gets up from the couch. It's Soos, who wants to know if he should bother coming in for work tomorrow.

"Ehh, still have a couple repairs to work out," says Stan. Really, the Shack's fine, but Stan wants to hold on to this break.

"I can always help with that!" says Soos.

Stan promptly steps out the door to protest (it's not that he doesn't appreciate Soos's offer, it's not, but there's really not much for him to do tomorrow)--and then gets hit with one of Mabel's water balloons.

"Haha! Time bomb!" cries Mabel, as she dashes across the lawn like a maniac.

"Ugh," says Stan, and moves to remove his undershirt, before he remembers, oh yeah, there's kids around.

"Oh, gross," says Mabel, who turns away and covers her eyes.

"Dude, what's that thing on your side?" asks Soos, pointing to a conspicuous black mark on his skin. "Looks kinda like a mole."

Dipper suddenly turns toward Stan, staring. "I, I think it looks more like a burn." There's a quiver in his voice.

Everyone's eyes are on Stan now, even Mabel, who is peeking at him from behind her hands. Stan rolls his shirt back down and crosses his arms, reflecting.

It was a cold, dark day in January when he ran into Johnny again. Even among the lowlifes that populated Stan's new world, Johnny was a special kind of psychopath. Stan tried to be conciliatory, "Hey, I'll give you back that money next week, next week, I promise," but Johnny wasn't having it.

"You've pushed me too far, Pines," said Johnny. He took his cigarette out of his mouth. "I'd say I need a far bit more cash than a small fry can dig up. But maybe, just maybe..." Johnny walked up to Stan, all but embracing him. Stan flinched as Johnny dug his cigarrete into Stan's skin, tried not to scream at the pain, at the feel of Johnny's greasy blond hair as he bit Stan's neck. "...I can accept an alternate method of payment."

"Eh, I don't remember much about it," Stan lies. "Probably nothing. Maybe I'll see the doctor about it tomorrow, get it checked out. You kids have fun." With that, Stan enters the Shack and goes upstairs to get changed.

Bill\Dipper possession & masturbation

[(Anonymous)]

Missing scene from Sock Opera where one of the first things Bill does after stealing Dipper's body is get an erection, then deal with that erection. Bonus points for Bill really getting into all that body stuff, and Dipper watching in horror but maybe kind of enjoying it in spite of himself.

Re: Bill\Dipper possession & masturbation FILL

[(Anonymous)]

Can't imagine that this is exactly what you want, but here, take it:

-----------------

Dipper can't believe this--that Bill is inside of his body, that he is violating his every sense of privacy, that he is jerking Dipper's body off, and worst of all, that he's actually pretty good at it, working a rhythm that Dipper just can't manage on his own.

"Whattsamatter, Pine Tree?" Bill licks his hand and goes back to stroking his--Dipper's--dick. "Jealous of my technique?"

"You--!" Dipper balls his hands into fists. "I will punch you, Bill. The minute I get back in my body, I will punch you."

"Yeah, two problems with that, pal--" Bill counts them off with his free hand. "Number one, I'm not letting you back in your body anytime soon. Number two, I'm a being of pure energy! You can't just 'punch' me with your little mortal hands." He laughs, suddenly. "Woo! That felt good!"

"Ergggh!" Whatever. Dipper's not taking any more of this. He floats down to the kitchen, where he doesn't have to hear Bill jerking it.

Stan and Wendy are there, eating a snack. "Hey," says Wendy, "has anybody seen Dipper lately?"

"He's fine, don't look for him," says Dipper, even though he knows they can't hear them.

"Eh, he's probably fine," says Stan. He takes a bite out of a cookie. "Probably doing some typical teen boy stuff. You know." He nudges Wendy in the arm.

"Yep, everything's normal here!" Dipper crosses his arms and tries not to cry.

Wendy/Dipper/Mabel, Overstimulation

[(Anonymous)]

The twins, together, are almost too much to take.

Ford/Stan, fisting

[(Anonymous)]

Six-finger fisting.

Re: Ford/Stan, fisting (FILL)

[(Anonymous)]

"Hey, uh, could I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it, Stanley?"

"I was hoping I could use your help with something. A while back, I saw some porn at an Internet cafe, and--"

"An inter-what?"

"It's a place where you get in a booth and use the computer for a bit. Anyway--"

"They let you look at porn in public now?"

"Long story short, I'm banned from ever using a computer terminal within the state of Georgia. Look, there's this thing called 'fisting,' and I'd like to try it out with you if ya'd let me."

"'FISTING?' What, are you supposed to be making love to your hand or something?"

"I want you to put it in my ass..."

"...you want ME... to put my entire fist..."

"Yes."

"In your...?"

"Yes?"

"Huh. I mean, I dunno, it sounds a bit dangerous, if you ask me."

"Like blowing up a giant demon rectangle isn't?"

"Triangle."

"Are you gonna do it or not?"

"... *sigh* Fine. I know how difficult it is to find someone to have sexual intercourse with."

"Sheesh, you're using all these big words, no wonder the ladies never flocked to you. All right, then, let's get this over with." *zip*

"Shouldn't we use lubricant for this, or--"

"Nah, don't need any. Besides, I left my bottle at the Mystery Shack for Soos to use. He's probably gonna need it."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"C'mon, I'm a man, I can take it! Nothing better than experience, amirite?"

"Okay. Let me know when you're ready."

"Fill 'er up!"

*fist plap*

"No, no, you gotta PUSH it."

"I..don't think it'll go in."

"What, are your hands trying to penetrate concrete or something? Just--"

*fwoomp*

"OH--! *sharp inhale* God that hurts!"

"Um, maybe I should..."

"Keep it in there! I just need to get used to this! Augh, that burns..."

*sigh* "Okay."

"...You can...start pulling out now. *hrk* Easy, EASY."

"Sorry."

*grunt* "Good, now slide it back i--h-HOH! Oh-oh! Ooh, yep - it burns, but it feels *so* good..."

(I'm sorry, I don't know how to continue the rest of this!)

Bill/Ford/OCs (noncon, BDSM, gangbang)

[(Anonymous)]

Bill is possessing Ford and goes full masochist. Gets himself into a gangbang at a BDSM club, and then partway through, he cedes control of the body back to Ford.

Pacifica & Robbie, sex pollen

[(Anonymous)]

The first Northwest to touch an emo.

Stan/Dipper, Stancest flavored

[(Anonymous)]

In an AU where Stan never got the portal running again, Stan starts a relationship with Dipper to fill in the hole Ford left.

Re: Stan/Dipper, Stancest flavored

[(Anonymous)]

SA
I forgot to say, but could you age Dipper up to at least 17-18 for this? Sorry I left that out.

Bill/Ford, in a box

[(Anonymous)]

bad and naughty children get put in The Pear Wiggler to atone for their crimes

(Sourse of meme: http://memearchives.tumblr.com/post/126543641452/slumbermancer-fruitsoftheweb-damage )

Fill: It's my triangle in a box, yeah yeah

[(Anonymous)]

He didn’t wanna say his brother had gone off the deep end. It’d been a long 30 years for the both of them, and hell, Stan knew he wasn’t any sort of prize anymore. And Ford had always been the sharper tack between the two of them, even if that tack was still dull enough to be tricked into almost ending the world. Let the past be the past, Stan said. They had at least a couple good years left in each of them, and they were going to make the most of it.

So yeah, he didn’t want to say Ford had gone off the deep end, but what else was there to say when he walks in on this.

Ford, studiously taking notes. Nothing out of the ordinary there – Ford could find something worth writing about in the crumpled remains of an old sock.

A tiny, violently shaking glass box. A little weirder, but again, something Stan would expect from Ford. The main concern with this factor is when the hell did his mad scientist of a brother find the time to build it, and what did he take apart to do so.

Inside the box, an even tinier triangle guy, screeching obscenities as he’s jostled around. The most worrying factor in this equation, as Ford might say.

“-THIS INSTANT YOUR ENTIRE UNIVERSE WILL WISH YOU’D NEVER BEEN BORN – HAH, NOT LIKE THEY DON’T ALREADY, AM I RIGHT? AND- OW!-”

On and on and on. It’s pretty annoying, overall, and only a little funny because of the way the triangle’s outraged voice modulates slightly up and down as he’s bounced around the interior of the box. Ford acts like he doesn’t hear a word, but Stan can see his hand clenched tight around his pen, knuckles and veins bulging. Maybe it’s time to interfere with… whatever this is.

“Uh… Ford?” His brother doesn’t answer. Stan clears his throat. “Whatcha, uh… doing?” Still nothing, but Ford’s shoulders have hunched up, so Stan knows he’s listening. Stan begins to reach a hand out towards him. “What’s with the, uh, triangle and the box?”

Ford turns very slowly and very stiffly to face him, and Stan finds himself freezing, hand hanging in the air awkwardly between them. Ford is wearing the creepiest grin Stan thinks he’s ever seen, and that’s including all the faces Dipper was pulling during Mabel’s Sock Opera.

“Bad and naughty children get put in The Pear Wiggler to atone for their crimes,” Ford says. And then he returns to the box and the triangle, and jeez, Stan can hear his pen scratching across the page.

Stan lets his hand drop and backs out of the room.

“Oookay, good chat, Sixer.” He closes the door behind him, but it only barely muffles the continuous screeching. They should dock soon. Ford’s gone off the deep end.

Dipper/Bill, statue kink

[(Anonymous)]

Dipper is frozen into a statue.

(Noncon/dubcon welcome but not necessary.)

Re: Dipper/Bill, statue kink

[(Anonymous)]

[Sorta gen-ish, Dipper is about 20 in this.]

"You." Dipper clenched his fists, partly to stop them from shaking.

"Who were you expecting, Drear Pooson?" Bill floated over by Dipper's face and gave his cheek a pinch. "Hey, how's my Pine Tree been doing?"

It took all of Dipper's willpower not to punch Bill. "Back off, man! You're supposed to be dead!"

"Well, I was." Bill floated away, his back facing Dipper. Suddenly, he inverted himself, his eye focused on Dipper. "Do you have any idea what it feels like, being a statue? Any idea at all?"

"Uh--"

"Oh, no, you don't, do you?" Bill grew very big and very red. "WELL! Let's just--fix that!" He snapped his fingers.

Dipper could hardly blink before his body lurched to a complete stop. It was a curious sensation, really; Dipper had no idea how much movement his body was making each moment until it was suddenly... gone. At the same time, he could sense the world outside of him moving at double speed, like a time-elapsed video. Dipper felt like he was going to hurl, but more emotionally than physically. The physical aspect just wasn't there anymore. He wondered, dimly, if this was his new life now, if he would just have to get used to this for the rest of eternity.

Suddenly, Bill snapped his fingers again, and Dipper was brought back to life. "Well? How you feeling, Pine Tree?"

Dipper swallowed, and blinked his apprehension away. "Never better!" It wasn't a total lie; there were worse fates, after all, especially once you threw Bill into the equation.

"Okay," said Bill. He floated around aimlessly, like the demonic triangle version of pacing. "Okay." Bill scratched under his hat, then threw his arms out wide. "WELP! Time for round two!" He snapped his fingers again.

Mabel/Dipper, vampire AU

[(Anonymous)]

One is a vampire, the other is a walking blood bank.

Re: Mabel/Dipper, vampire AU

[(Anonymous)]

I will fill this!


...It just might take awhile to get done. I kinda busy right now, heh heh.

Stan/Ford (kinda dubcon & noncon flavored)

[(Anonymous)]

Ford fucks an amnesiac Stan.

Re: Stan/Ford (kinda dubcon & noncon flavored)

[(Anonymous)]

HOLLERS YES PLEASE

Melody/Soos, oviposition

[(Anonymous)]

Soos is going to be a great mom.

Re: Melody/Soos, oviposition

[(Anonymous)]

Are you okay with some tentacles involved, nonny?

Stan, selfcest

[(Anonymous)]

He accidentally gets duplicated!

Re: Stan, selfcest

[(Anonymous)]

Just checking in: are you okay with this going in a Stancest direction?

Ford/Stan, fuck machine

[(Anonymous)]

Maybe Ford needs a lab rat, or maybe Stan is the one who insists they try it out.

Mabel/Pacifica, face slapping

[(Anonymous)]

It's a thing they do in the bedroom.

Bill/Stan/Ford/Mabel/Dipper (incest, orgy)

[(Anonymous)]

*shifty eyes* I'm so glad you made this GF Kink Meme, because I'd be way too embarrassed to request this elsewhere, but...

Bill X all the Pines at once. ALL OF THEM. I've been waiting a long time to see this!

Everyone needs to be 18+, please, but after that, no big preferences, aside from would prefer enthusiastic incest action to be part of it (any and all PinesxPines configurations would be great). Time or other magic shenanigans okay to mess with the ages, say to make the Grunkles younger, though Mabel and Dipper need to be mentally adults, too. Throw in even more characters like Wendy, Soos, Pacifica to make an even bigger orgy = great too. Fluffy, funny, or creepy w/ mindcontrol/slavery and such are all welcome, though. Or any combination of fluffy/comedic/creepy and dirtybadwrong. Anything would be great! Thanks...

Tentacles always welcome.

Re: Bill/Stan/Ford/Mabel/Dipper (incest, orgy)

[(Anonymous)]

Out of purely academic curiosity, nonny, are there any other specific kinks you have, in addition to tentacles?

I've been trying to write this but it's hard to find a direction

Stan/Ford/Bill, forced to watch (noncon, torture)

[(Anonymous)]

One of the twins has to watch while Bill fucks his brother.

Re: Stan/Ford/Bill, forced to watch (noncon, torture) - FILL

[(Anonymous)]

Prostitution and past-Billford. Possibly one-sided Stancest but that's up to the reader

=

Stan caught on quick to how people expressed emotions, even when they were a one-eyed triangular piece of shit. That lilt in Bill’s eye meant that he was bored. It meant he was going to come up with a new way to torture them unless Ford gave up the equation that would release Bill’s brand of “fun” to the rest of the world. But Ford wouldn’t, of course. This would be one of the few times Stan ever admitted that he was grateful for Ford being a stubborn ass.

Bill flickered briefly. That, Stan knew, meant annoyance.

Ford vomited up a chunk of blood from Bill’s last brilliant idea. He sat to the side one hand unsteadily.

Bill asked too cheerfully, “Since you’re being difficult, how ‘bout we try something else?” He disappeared from his throne, and then his voice was everywhere, echoing around the tacky “fearamid” that they’d been trapped in for who-knew-how-long now. “You used to love this next game, Fordsy.”

Ford looked over at Stan, fear knitting his eyebrows together. Stan didn’t know why Ford was so scared. Ford had the equation. He was who Bill needed. Stan was expendable, as he’d always been throughout their life. At the moment, he was just another way to make Ford suffer. One of the oldest tricks in the book – hurting someone’s loved one to hurt them. It was funny, that even after all this time, Stan was somehow still dragging his brother down.

Ford said, “Whatever he does-”

Stan interrupted, “Yeah, I know. It ain’t your fault, Sixer.” He really didn’t need his brother’s pity right now. They were both pretty fucking pitiable, so Stanford shouldn’t be saying nothing.

“How cute,” Bill said. The outline of a large triangle etched itself onto the bricks in the floor. As the edges met, the lines started to glow faintly, and a drawing of an eye appeared in the middle. “Maybe you’ll change your mind after this.”

An inhumanly stretched arm, black as void, fazed through the ground at the corner of the triangle and dragged Stanley – kicking and cursing – into the center of the shape. Stan was sure he saw Ford try to reach for him only to be interrupted by another coughing fit.

In an instant, Stan was glad for the arm holding him because the eye blinked itself into a gaping maw, complete with sharp teeth and a black hole of a mouth. He didn’t even want to think if it was actually a bottomless pit. He didn’t want to think about a lot of the shit that’d been happening to him over the past few days. But at least none of it involved being potentially eaten alive.

“Don’t worry,” Bill said suddenly, like he’d read Stan’s mind, “I’m not planning on eating you. Humans are fun to play with, but you’re far too disgusting to eat.”

Stan rolled his eyes, unimpressed. The novelty of a giant space demon was wearing off.

“Bill!” Ford yelled.

“What?”

“Don’t-”

“Don’t hurt him? I don’t know where you’ve been these past few days, but we’re way past that.” Bill laughed, tinny and reverberating around them all.

More hands rose from the ground, this time near Ford, to hold him in place.

“Can’t have you moving. This next game is all about your idiot of a brother who messed with things he shouldn’t have. But hey! I guess stupidity runs in the family.”

Stan, from where he was held above (possibly) the abyss, could see Ford scowling, acting tough amidst this all. Stan wanted to say something about Bill’s own intelligence but decided not to try to make his situation any worse.

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Bill said impatiently. “And remember, Stanford, you can stop this anytime if you’d just give me that equation.”

A mass of arms rose from the edges of the triangle, then, all too large and too long. They reminded Stan of spiders, the way the spindly fingers stretched so unnaturally. Delicately, the hands started to unbutton his shirts and slacks.

Oh.

That’s the game Bill wanted to play.

Ford must’ve caught on, too, because he said, trembling, “W-wait, Bill. Don’t do this to him.”

Hearing his brother panic concerned Stan off more than what he knew was about to happen.

“And what?” Bill taunted. “Do it to you instead?”

Stan frowned. Ford would offer that, wouldn’t he. He’d always try to play the hero, but Stan wouldn’t have his brother be hurt for him. “Ford, shut it.”

Ford didn’t listen. “If it’ll keep you from doing it to him,” he gulped. “Yes.”

The hands, which were working on Stan’s girdle, froze. Everything hung silently for a brief second, before it was cut sharply with the sound of Bill’s borderline hysterical laughter. The creepy-ass fingers finished their job, dropping Stan’s girdle into the void of Bill’s mouth – eye – he wasn’t sure.

“Oh, Fordsy! I didn’t know you missed my touch so much! I never pegged you for a romantic sap.”

“Really,” Stan said, not even vaguely put off by those words.

Ford pulled at his bindings. “Stan, don’t listen to him.”

“I know,” Stan replied. “I stopped listening to him give or take five days ago.” If his arms hadn’t been pinned to his sides by the hand holding him up, he’d be making a casual waggling motion with his own hand.

Bill ignored him, responding only to Ford. “You would know about not listening to anybody, wouldn’t you? Like that poor assistant of yours that you drove crazy? Anyways, as much as I love watching you give your body up to me, I already said this was all about your brother.”

Ford narrowed his eyes, not exactly being affected by the mockery, but obviously showing he’d listened. Amateur.

One of Bill’s hands pushed up Stan’s undershirt, and about three other ones pulled his pants down. Overall, Stan thought Bill would be a lot more inconsiderate of a lover.

“Bill,” Ford growled.

“Give me the equation, and I’ll stop. That’s the deal.”

Ford paused, then said, “I’m sorry, Stanley.”

Stan shrugged, or approximated it. “Told you. ‘S not your fault.”

The look on Ford’s face told Stan that his words weren’t landing. He just wanted to get this over with, really. He’d had worse than this. So far, at least. Maybe the other occasions hadn’t been as weird as this, but no one was pulling out his teeth yet, which was already an improvement. Not that he had any teeth left to pull out.

Small blessings.

The hand on his chest moved to his mouth, and another came from behind to forcefully yank his jaw open. Two long fingers jammed their way down his throat, and – yeah, there was the roughness he’d been expecting. Stan suppressed his gag reflex. Practice made it easy, even in such shitty circumstances. But maybe the fact that these circumstances were so bad made it just like the practice he’d had.

Bill thrust those fingers uncaringly as a hand Stan couldn’t see pressed another two fingers into his ass.

Fuck – it burned. But he could deal. He’d deal.

Unoccupied hands pulled Stan’s slacks the rest of the way off, catching his socks and shoes on the way, and tossing his clothes somewhere to the floor. It was a victory that they didn’t end up in the void like his girdle had.

The fingers in his ass were twisting, working him open. Then – too soon – it was three fingers, pumping drily in and out.

Stan groaned, deep in his chest. He caught Ford looking at the ground, which was probably for the better. He didn’t need his brother seeing how ugly his body had gotten in his old age. And the
whole getting fucked by a monster thing was kinda embarrassing, too.

However, it seemed Bill had also noticed Ford wasn’t paying attention.

“Hey,” Bill snapped. “Look up here.”

Ford didn’t respond.

Bill sighed. The hands holding Ford rearranged themselves, now pushing him onto his knees with his chest to the ground. One hand grabbed his hair and pulled his head back.

“I said, look. I know you’re jealous, but I’m putting on a show for you, and it’s rude that you’re not even looking.”

Both hands inside Stan were removed, and he was lowered onto something warm and wet and undulating and – shit, that was disgusting. A huge tongue was sticking out of the mouth in the floor, and he was sitting his bare ass on it.

“Don’t act like such a prude, Stanford. I’ve been in your mindscape. I know you’ve been lusting after your brother like some sick freak.”

Stan was about to dismiss the comment as another baseless taunt, but then he saw Ford’s horrified face.

And Stan had doubts.

Bill caught on immediately, Stan knew. The hands around him shifted again. The one holding him up split into two, and carried him now with his wrists, letting most of his weight rest on the tongue.

Ford stuttered, “That’s not true. Don’t listen to him.”

Stan wanted to believe Ford. Maybe Stan was exhausted or something. Fuck, he didn’t know. But he’d already doubted, and now it was worming its way deep into his thoughts. He didn’t say anything back to Ford. He also didn’t miss the hurt look on his brother’s face. Or Bill’s laugh.

Two different hands wrapped around his thighs, pushing him up that way, and now the damn tongue was pressing into his ass.

There was no way in hell the full width of it would be fitting into him. Luckily, it stopped just past the tip but that was already too much. He felt like it was splitting him open.

He cursed quietly, sweat dripping off his temple, down his face. He was panting, adjusting, but then the thing started to move. It thrust shallowly – still too much – and Stan gritted his teeth to keep any undignified sounds from escaping. He couldn’t for long, though, as his jaw was wrenched open once more, and fingers shoved back down his throat. Stan was caught off guard this time, so he wasn’t able to stop himself from choking.

Bill apparently wanted that. He pulled the hand away from Stan’s mouth to cackle and gloat about something Stan couldn’t hear. Stan was too busy hacking up thick spit.

The tongue’s width seemed to thin suddenly – just enough – and pushed in, and Stan couldn’t stop the cry ripped from him in time. It didn’t hurt. It far from hurt, and he hated that. A shadowy tendril coiled loosely around his throat, but left his mouth to his control – a threat more than anything. Hands appeared, touching him all over, turning rough. They clawed at him, leaving red welts in their path.

Stan focused on that. He’d rather pay attention to the pain than the humiliation of enjoying this in front of his brother (that might’ve had feelings for him all this time). But who was he to be ashamed. According to Bill, Ford used to love getting fucked like this.

Right.

According to Bill.

He shouldn’t be listening to anything Bill said, and yet, when he saw – Ford watching, wide-eyed –

Stan doubted.

His train of thought was interrupted with a rough movement of the tongue, and it had him moaning and fuck, fuck, he didn’t mean to. He didn’t but – it was starting to genuinely feel good. Then, like a reward for being so pathetic, a hand dipped between his thighs, stroking his cock that he hadn’t even remembered becoming hard and leaking. Though he decided he’d be forgiven for being distracted by other goings-on.

Because that tongue or whatever the hell it was now, it was filling him, making feel better than anything he’d felt in his life. No wonder Ford would enjoy this.

Ford – who was still watching him.

Bill’s voice rang loudly, “Your brother makes such a good whore, doesn’t he? He’s had a lot of practice.”

Ford finally looked away again. “What?”

“Oh, you don’t know? How your brother sold himself on the streets after you let him get kicked out? And let me tell you, he was great at his job.”

Stan didn’t have the breath, or mind, to argue. Not that Bill was wrong, per se. And that scared Stan, realizing that Bill could tell the truth.

Ford didn’t argue for Stan either. He kept silent, looking at the bricks as much as the position would allow him. And that was fine with Stan. He didn’t need to explain himself to his brother. He just wanted Bill to learn to shut up for once.

“Face it, Stanford. You’ve ruined everyone in your life.”

Stan drew the line there. He opened his mouth to speak, but the tendril around his neck tightened. He could almost feel Bill’s self-satisfied smirk in the air around them, and that feeling grew even more stifling as all the sensations assaulting Stan finally peaked within him. He came hard, the various appendages dragging out his climax until he was somehow more wrung and tired than before.

The tongue retracted into the floor, and Stan was placed onto the bricks, all the hands – including the ones on Ford – disappearing.

Stan gave himself two breaths to steady himself before he got up and gingerly walked to where his clothes lay. Ford still refused to look at him. Stan was struggling with the button to his pants when Bill’s voice echoed one last time.

“I’ve gotta go check on something. Don’t want my friends eating each other and all. I’ll leave you two alone to each other’s company. See ya’.”

Stan scoffed, even as the doubt continued to gnaw at him. He sat down to put on his shoes.

“I’ve never felt anything like that for you,” Ford said after one shoe was secure.

Stan paused, maybe too long, then replied, “I know. I don’t really believe anything that asshole says.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Ford looked doubtful, contemplative. Stan knew Bill had won this round.

Before his brother could open up a can of worms that was probably fitted for a better location than a gaudy party pyramid, Stan laid down on his stomach and said, “I’m gonna get some sleep before he comes back. You should, too.”

“Right,” Ford whispered, obviously still lost in thought.

They’d deal with those thoughts later, when the time for talk could exist. At the very least – Stan was sure – even if Ford was always far too willing to prematurely martyr himself, he would not go down until he got to punch Bill Cipher in his smug, non-existent face.

Gen(ish), Dipper as a dad

[(Anonymous)]

Any kind of fluff about adult!Dipper being a dad. I'm fine with any pairing except Pinecest. (Sorry.)

Re: Gen(ish), Dipper as a dad

[(Anonymous)]

I'm assuming you mean Dipper/Mabel when you say Pinecest? That ship name always confused me since there's four Pines...

Stan/Bill, crying (potential noncon)

[(Anonymous)]

Bill won't stop until Stan cries.

(If you like, I welcome noncon, violence, or background Stan/Ford. Anything goes!)

Re: Stan/Bill, crying (potential noncon)

[(Anonymous)]

how do you feel about transmale!stan?