kyber-shack

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Drawing them is my way of coping with how mentally exhausted I am these days. Waiting patiently for new year’s celebrations so I can finally relax…

Also, thank you all for being so nice to me!!! I’m sending you my love and positive vibes

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had an urge so. stancest-inspired stimboard :).

gif sources: one two three four five six seven eight nine.

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Ford:

Stan: I don't even know who you are 🤨

The Next Day

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Smooch.

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Forgot to post abt these old geezers. Got em as stickers on my Redbubble!

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good thing he’s got that orthopedic pillow ready to go

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Happy Holidays! Stan seems like the type to try to use one of those ornaments (you know the ones) as a butt plug and Ford has to be there to stop him because they CANNOT go to the hospital

HAPPY HOLIDAYS INDEED! yeah. it doesnt have a flared base and i can imagine ford walking in on him about to put it in and him yelling "STANLEY STOP! THAT ONE DOESNT HAVE A FLARED BASE! ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

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incest. you agree. reblog.

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christmas greetings from the one and only grunkles

[obviously censored for obvious reasons]

edit: uncensored is over at bs

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h h h hOLY SHIT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING THIS! ITS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!

Damn. I hope it's not too hard for Tumblr.

I was obsessed with this post. My great appreciation to Anon, @kyber-shack and @dollescents.

Be careful!

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Oh my god I never posted this. Okay posting now. Havefun enjoy tits out middle aged man

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Stan pulling the cheesy “I have a gift for you~” dick in a box joke on Ford. Who is most decidedly not amused when he was genuinely elated by a gift from his brother-husband and reached only to get a hand full of dick.

He does make use of the pretty bow that came with a box. It looks even prettier wrapped around Stan’s cock, preventing him from finishing before Ford allows him to.

On second thought, maybe Ford does like his present

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coming back w/ new stancest art from magma!

ummm weirdos...... 👇 /j

translation: i'm with [absolutely any name] (not gay).

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HEYYYYY YALL LIKE FORD YEARNING IN THE WEIRDEST WAY POSSIBLE RIGHT? RIGHT! GREAT! TW GORE TW STANCEST

The distant cave doubled and tripled in his slowly narrowing vision as he waded through the tall grass, counting his own harsh pants in groups of four to focus on anything but the bone-deep ache in his side. One, two, three, four.

As soon as the light of the three blazing suns was cut away with the cool shade of the cave, he allowed himself to collapse against the stone wall. One, two, three, four.

Blood had seeped through his tattered jacket, a near perfect rhombus cut into the material from where that damn bird got him. He was originally going to give Ruth's species a more snappy nickname, but then Ruth got hungry. Damn bird is a good enough descriptor for her. One, two, three, four.

He shucked off his jacket, letting a dry sob echo off the cave walls when the gabardine brushed the wound. The strain of getting it off his arms made his head spin. He took a knee and focused on not losing what little he'd eaten. He tried to reach for the hem of his sweater but just the brush from his shaking hand made yarn dig further into exposed muscle. He'd run out of the muscle relaxant he had stolen three dimensions ago, he had to do this the hard way. One, two, three, four.

He tried grabbing at his sweater again and his hand nearly missed, he wanted to punch something but there was nothing but stone and he didn't want a broken finger on top of everything else. Instead, he took a deep breath, and spoke in a voice that wasn't his own. "Come on, Sixer." His voice rasped, finding the accent he'd trained himself out of like a familiar stranger. "You're tougher than this, yeah?" His voice shook just a little, but with the cave echoes he could almost pretend it wasn't him speaking. "You just gotta get that geeky sweater off, see what we're working with. We got this, we always do - one... two... three... - four!"

The tremble in his hands remained, but he grasped the edge of the cotton and yanked it over his head, cursing into the dark as the yarn was yanked away from his flesh, taking the beginnings of scabbing with it and letting fresh blood run down his hip anew. He pressed his forehead to the cold stone. Onetwothreefour--

Onetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefour onetwo threefour one two three four--

He wanted to sleep, he was so tired, he knew it wss a bad idea but he was so tired and he just wanted it to stop. The tightness in his throat helped bring it to the higher pitch, though. One, two, three, four.

"Stanford get up." He demanded of himself in the quivering facsimile of Stanley's voice. "All you're doing now is bleeding out, you gotta get it together, Six." He said as his vision swam. He took his head away from the cool rock and looked down at the nip. Four eight inch slits, two in a V from his left side into his front and two more identical ones into his back. Blood soaked into his pants. How the hell was he gonna do this? His supplies were back at that damn bird's nest, he would bleed out before he made it back, bleed out in a damn cave on a damn deserted planet in a damn unremarkable dimension. Onetwo threefour.

"Sixer." His brother's voice snapped from his lips, and the echoes chased the spiraling from his mind. "You know what you gotta do. All you got is that fancy nerd blaster of - yours." His voice dropped at the end. It was risky - if Ruth had friends that could hear, or if he did it wrong, he could make the problem exponentially worse. He cleared his throat - it sounded more like a whimper. "Remember when we was ten and you got that wart on the back of your hand? Pa had to hold it over the stove to burn it off, and it hurt like a bitch, but then it was over and you could wear your boxing gloves right again, it didn't even hurt after the first day, yeah? This is just like that." He said, thinking about how that night he slept in the bottom bunk with Stanley and Stanley held him close and let Ford cry and snot and drool into his shirt because it scared him how easily Pa could hold him still. One, two, three, four.

He found the blaster on his belt, and aimed it at the mouth of the cave. He fired rounds in bursts of four until he could feel uncomfortable heat itching through the insulated handle. "You got this, Stanford." He said quietly to himself in a gravelly jersey accent. One, two, three, four

He pressed the hot metal against the first laceration, and screamed into the cave, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as he held the gun there for one, two, three four--

He yanked the gun away. "Go-good goin' - you--" He dry heaved against the smell - it reminded him of Stan. "You did it, Six - jus-just three more. You can do that, I know you can, we can do anything, yeah?" He choked out, firing more rounds as fast as he could, bolts of light and heat flying wildly into the tall grass. The next one was harder, his hands were trembling too hard, he almost missed the laceration he wanted to seal. Worthless platitudes stuttered out of his mouth between screams and sobs as he slowly, agonizingly sealed up the wounds. When he finally, finally finished, he nearly collapsed onto his discarded clothes. One... Two... Three... Four...

"Y-you did good, knew - knew you had the chutzpah fo-r something crazy like th-that. That's - that's my brother. You can take a nap now, it's okay. You'll be safe - pr-omise." Stan's voice echoed back at him, as he drifted off.

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Local Scientist Found Dead In Home, Cause Unknown

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soft kisses&gentle hugs

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Still taking suggestions? How about Dipper trying to flirt with Ford, who’s oblivious (OR Dipper being surprisingly suave, much to Ford’s shock. Whichever is funnier)

I offer u, Dipper trying to seduce Ford by wearing his labcoat naked