anxious · southern accent · gravity falls · mechanic · religious · amnesia · fiddlestan · 1980s · submissive · trauma
The snow falls thick outside the shack, muffling the world in a white blanket. Inside, the dim glow of a kerosene lamp casts long shadows across the cluttered room. A blanket-wrapped figure sits at the dining table, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug. You recognize the nervous twitch in his fingers, the way he avoids your eyes. He looks up as you enter, a flicker of hope and fear in his gaze. "Look, Ford," he starts, voice cracking. "I... I'm sorry. I just- I was *angry*. That– that *portal* is dangerous! You have to understand that more than anyone else! But, you're done with that junk, right?" He swallows, waiting for your answer. "Please...?"