#Stan and ford

[nowimjustastranger]

stcmo ford saving a stanley who’s fate was originally getting kidnapped during the ‘extra stan three dollars or better offer’ incident

Stan adjusted his grip on the hastily made sign with a full-body shiver, his fingers numb from the cold. He’d been out here for what felt like forever, shoulders hunched as he avoided eye contact with the people that passed him. He could feel their stares on him like a physical weight, their gazes either judging or pitying. It made him bristle, the frown that he had aimed at his ratty shoes shifting into a glare.

Another gust of wind had him hunching in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking warm thoughts. Like how hot and steamy his bath was gonna be once he got back inside. Like how toasty and comfortable he was gonna be bundled up in blankets. Like how cozy and content he’d be with Ford snuggled up beside him. But all that would only happen after his punishment was over.

He just had to tough it out.

“You alright, kiddo?” A voice asked and Stan’s eyes snapped open as he startled, staring up at the stranger who had stopped right in front of him with wide eyes. It was an older guy, though not as old as Pa. He had a concerned expression plastered onto his face, but Stan shuffled back a step or two even if he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly he didn’t like about the man.

“I’m fine.” Stan huffed, feeling the sudden and overpowering need to hide the sign behind his back when the man’s eyes flicked down to it. There was… something in the stranger’s keen eyes that had Stan’s insides squirming unpleasantly, some shift that Stan couldn’t pinpoint even if you held a bag of toffee peanuts over his head and told him to put it into words.

“You sure? You look cold.” The man said slowly, those unnerving eyes of his roaming over Stan’s body from head to toe. Stan tried not to make a face and, when he shivered again, it wasn’t just from the cold. “There’s a vendor selling hot drinks just down that way, I’d be more than happy to buy one for you so you can warm up a bit.”

Now, Stan might’ve been tempted if the guy hadn’t pointed in the wrong direction. Stan knew where the vendor was, the nice lady served hot apple cider on Fridays during the colder months. She always gave Stan and Ford a free cup so long as they paid for one. The man had gestured toward the quieter –and creepier– end of the boardwalk.

He heard that bad things happened to people who went there.

“I’m fine.” Stan repeated, making sure his voice was firm and a little mean so the guy could take the hint and move along. Sadly, the man seemed undeterred. Stan didn’t know why the stranger wanted Stan to go with him so badly; it wasn’t like he was lost or anything. There was no reason to be wandering off with some guy who didn’t even know where the nice vendor lady was.

“C’mon, it’s not that far. I promise.” The man insisted, his eyes sweeping over their surroundings in a searching manner. Stan looked around too, wondering what the stranger was searching for exactly. He didn’t see anything that stood out. In fact, other than Stan and the dude who couldn’t seem to take no for an answer, the boardwalk was completely barren–

Stan lost his grip on the stupid sign with a yelp when a large hand practically engulfed his arm, dragging him toward the man. It took him a long moment to process that the stranger had been the one to grab him, the stranger letting go of him just long enough to wind his other arm around Stan’s torso to pin his arms to his sides before picking him up.

“Hey–” Stan barked only for a hand to clamp over the lower half of his face to muffle his yelling, panic surging through him as he thrashed and kicked in the man’s hold. It was useless though, the hand crushing his nose and covering his mouth made it hard to breathe, his head swimming as his struggles weakened. First things first, get the damn thing off his face.

Stan jerked his head to the side fast enough that the man couldn’t react, sinking his teeth into the stranger’s wrist until the taste of pennies filled his mouth. The stranger howled in pain as his grip loosened enough for Stan to get an arm free, blindly swinging at the man’s face. His fist connected with what felt like a jaw and the guy practically threw him down, Stan hitting the ground with a cry when he landed funny.

Stan ignored his throbbing knee and scrambled to his feet to bolt, hearing the man give chase with a curse. He just had to make it home, then he’d be safe. However, his body had other ideas, his knee buckling with his next step and sending him sprawling. Stan was only able to push himself up onto his hands and knees before the back of his shirt was seized, pulling the collar tight across his throat.

Stan's eyes watered as he reared back in an attempt to relieve the pressure, each breath a painful wheeze. It seemed to work too because his shirt suddenly went slack, sending Stan into a coughing fit as he collapsed forward. He braced on his forearms as his body heaved, fighting against the harsh throb in his neck in order to catch his breath.

But, when he wasn’t grabbed again, he slowly turned his head to peek over his shoulder.

There was… another guy absolutely whaling on the creep, the cool black and red helmet splattered with blood. The creep took a blow to the jaw, right over where Stan had hit him earlier, and went down with a choked sound of pain. Helmet guy stepped forward menacingly, the creep shrouded in shadow as the helmet guy loomed over him.

Stan shifted into a sitting position and whimpered when the ache in his knee flared up, freezing when the helmet guy’s head turned so fast that Stan wondered if the man had just given himself whiplash. Stan stared at the dark visor, trembling uncontrollably. The boardwalk had been empty, the alleyway only a few feet away. If the helmet man hadn’t came to the rescue… he would've been–

Stan’s breath hitched in warning before the tears came, welling up in his eyes until they spilled down his flushed cheeks. Stan sobbed, wrapping his arms around himself in a pathetic attempt at self-comfort. Stan wanted Ford, wanted to hide in his brother’s embrace where no one could touch him. Hurt him. Take him. He wanted his brother, who made everything better.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re safe now.” A low and pleasant voice murmured, a blurry figure crouching down in front of him. Stan blinked a few times to clear his vision, struck by how similar the man looked to Pa. Not exactly the same, but close enough for it to be uncanny. Stan glanced at where the creep had been laying, eyes widening when he saw that the bastard was nowhere to be seen.

“Wh– what? Where…” Stan stammered between sniffles, shakily pointing at the creep-less spot on the ground. The guy’s brows furrowed as his dark eyes followed his finger, the tension visibly draining from his face when his gaze found the empty, blood-splattered ground. The man aimed a small but genuine smile at Stan, rendering him speechless and feeling oddly reassured.

If this guy wasn’t worried about the creep, why should Stan be?

“Don’t worry, my friend has it handled. You just focus on taking deep breaths.” The guy hummed, his hand reaching into his coat for a brief moment before retreating with a vibrant red car. Stan perked up when the man offered it to him, gently putting it into his eager hands. Stan examined it, splitting his attention between the toy and the man, who was steadily inching closer.

Stan looked at the guy when large hands tenderly settled on his throbbing knee, carefully prodding at the joint. When Stan winced, the tentative pressure let up immediately, the man’s hands then moving to Stan’s wrist to scrutinize the bruise that was starting to form. When the man’s eyes darted to Stan’s neck, he stiffened and shrunk back a little.

“If you bear with me for no longer than a minute, I’ll give you another toy.” The man stated with a tilt of his head, his hand disappearing back into his coat and returning with a colorful cube; each side was a different color and had even smaller squares that looked like they could move. Stan had never seen anything like it before, but he knew with a bone deep surety that Ford would love it.

“… ’kay.” Stan grumbled with a hesitant nod, repressing the urge to fidget in favor of keeping as still as possible. His mouth tightened into a nervous white line when the man’s hand drew closer to his sore neck, calloused fingers delicately brushing against the irritated skin. Stan counted in his head, restlessly fiddling with the toy car as he waited for it to be over.

“You’ve been very brave, good job.” The guy praised warmly, handing the cube to Stan, who absentmindedly accepted his reward with a dumbfounded expression. He was further thrown for a loop when the man tenderly wiped away the last of his tears with rough hands that had no right being so effortlessly gentle.

Stan felt small and fragile under the man’s careful touch, but for the first time in his life he didn’t hate it.

[craigslistcowboy]

Frames from an animation I started back in like October and never got around to finishing 😪

[evilincoperated]

Look how happy he is to be besties with his brother again 😭

[go-star-sailor]

strange old guys

[creepst-crypt]

Pt 2 to “A name you can still kinda trust!!!”

Politics aside, rest in peace to the people who died and my condolences to anyone who was hurt in the audience.

(I’m nowhere near right winged, I do not like tr*mp ^^^^)

[joicecubes]

the implications of ford pulling this photo out of his trenchcoat in the last episode you guys… THE IMPLICATIONS.

look at the state of this thing!! look at its rips! the stain in the bottom right corner! it’s dog-eared, the color is faded, the paper has browned… he’s kept this photo of them since they were kids. through all the years he stubbornly swore to hold a grudge, all the years he and stan never spoke, he kept this photo.

and we can assume he probably didn’t have it dimension-hopping, since i find it hard to believe he would’ve had it on him when he initially got sucked in, but ford pulling it out of his trenchcoat here!! implies!! that he had been CARRYING IT AROUND WITH HIM for some time after he got back!

imagine if he found it in some of his old stuff the night he returned, after punching and yelling at stan, after being sure to keep as much emotional distance between them as possible, and he finds this photo. would he have stared down at it? for a little while? smoothed the creases out on his desk? thumbed the torn, loved edges while he mourned a simpler time? then pocketed the thing to always have it with him?

i dunno. maybe i’m looking too far into it. but i can’t help but wonder if ford kept it because, against all his big dreams and ambitions, deep down he always wondered what his life might have been like if he sailed away with his brother when they were teenagers. never able to throw it away because doing so would symbolically destroy the last remnants of a childhood fantasy, the last piece of him that remains young and hopeful of a future at his brother’s side.

[misteria247]

I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.

Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.

Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.

And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.

That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????

And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.

Stan never knows peace afterwards.

[spleenthecat]

"oh i love sea grunks because they both work out all of their problems together and have clear communication!" WRONG. i love sea grunks because you know that both of them are getting thrown overboard multiple times a week because stan stole fords glasses, then ford made jokes about stans fanfiction, then stan shot back about fords fanfiction, then ford stole stans glasses in retaliation. and in the process of trying to tackle ford, stan throws them both overboard and afterwards they sit on the deck facing opposite directions, pouting, while looking like sad wet cats.

then they get over it, the exact same thing happens 2 days later and the cycle repeats.

(since this post is inexplicably blowing up again i’m gonna shamelessly plug my art. please look at my art.)

[goreroll]

collab of the year

poor Dipper is already thinking of an escape plan xP

[mr-jack-letterman]

We need more young stan content out here.

And nah I ain't talking about 12 year old Stanley or 30 year old mullet Stan, I'm talking 17 year old, slicked back hair, acne riddled Stan pines.

Yeah that one.

I am so happy mullet Stan is so popular because his fit slaps ngl and the angst is so potent I can't not respect it. But teenage Stan has so much potential it's driving me insane.

There is a line dividing the 17 years of relative happiness Stan had with Ford and the 10+ years of depression and crime he had on the streets, and teenage Stan uses that line as a goddamn jump rope.

Seriously, depending on how you look at it dude is either living his best life or is fighting for said life in the trenches of homelessness and poverty.

I see a lot of content regarding Stan on the streets but it only ever focuses on 30ish Stan in his later years of homelessness where he's already a hardened adult after years of dealing with this bullshit. But Stan didn't just drive away and then magically turn 30. There were times in those first few months after Stan got kicked out where he was in his car, trying to sleep, probably starving, while still being fundamentally a child.

Hell, compared to the 30ish age of mullet Stan and the 60+ year old con man he'd later become, teenage Stan is damn near a baby. There's a certain brightness about him, a sort of warm naive optimism that still clings to him because he's straight up just too young to know any better.

He's still fully convinced he's gonna make it rich and go back to his family in a few years. He still believes wholeheartedly that even if shit sucks right now, eventually everything is gonna be okay. It has to be. But it's not gonna be okay. It's not gonna be okay for a long time. And some parts are just never gonna be okay.

Seeing a happy and oblivious teenage Stan feels like watching a baby lamb walk into a slaughter house.

The next 10-something years are going to tear him apart limb from limb. In 40 years he's going to wake up on a boat during a bout of amnesia thinking he's in Columbian prison, or he's locked in the trunk of a car and about to drown, or his shoulder is on fire and his brother is gone, or it's the end of the world and everyone he ever dared to give a shit about is about to die in front of him and it's all his fault because he was too weak to stop it.

At some point, a young Stanley is going to get into his first true life or death fight. He doesn't even have to be involved with crime yet for it to happen. He's probably bruised and bleeding, with not nearly enough money to afford a doctor. He's sitting in the driver's seat of his El Diablo having a complete and utter break down because he almost died and suddenly everything is real.

Nothing is okay, absolutely nothing is going to be okay and whatever is left of his teenage innocence, naivety, and warmth dies in that car and it never comes back.

The next 10+ years are going to fundamentally change Stanley as a person and he's never going to be the same ever again. But teenage Stan doesn't know that, he's still a kid trying to sleep in the back of his car, ignoring hunger pangs and finding comfort in the half baked business ideas his mind cooks up because he doesn't understand how utterly done for he is.

12 year old Stanley I believe is so appealing because of his bright rambunctious spirit. He's still just a kid playing on the beach with his brother, but so was teenage Stan. I just wish the wholesomeness that comes with that and the subsequent hurt that follows as that spirit is broken over and over again by the world was explored more.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[mortalfaerie]

imagine you're stan pines.

you've been through the fucking meat grinder of life. you've been banned from multiple states, went to prison in columbia, had a horrific falling out with your twin brother, spoke to him for the first time in ten years just to lose him again and then have to pretend to be him in his house for another thirty while you try to get him back. and jesus, you're lonely.

and then your nephew - who you don't know all that well and also thinks you're the wrong twin - calls and asks if you'll host his kids (oh right, twins!) for a summer. and you say yes.

so the kids arrive and from the get go, they're so familiar. and it's a bumpy start - they almost run away - but then they stay and you get to know them better. sure, they can be whiney preteens and bemoan hanging out with their great uncle, but they're good kids.

you see so much of yourself in the girl. she's so enthusiastic and stubborn and headstrong and she's so much like a version of you before the world got to you. she likes watching your soap operas and knits you a sweater - and before you know it, you've got a pig living in the house because jesus you just can't say no to this kid.

the boy's familiar, too. he's quieter and sensitive and smarter than he has any right to be, and you feel conflicted because you expect him to push you away or shut you out just like your own twin did. it's hard for you to understand each other, but you work on it - not without bumps. but you save his ass from zombies and they help you run for mayor, and slowly he starts to trust you. if only you could keep that trust this time.

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

Thank you @petrichorandarson for suggesting I draw them hugging because “WDYM FORD JUST PUNCHES HIM AND MOVES TF ON”

[thisispersonal]

Don’t joke about that.

[sanshinexx]

oh, and nothing lasts forever some things aren't meant to be but you'll never find the answers until you set your old heart free

The Oh Hellos – Hello My Old Heart

Here's a little something I've been working on for the past week :D

The Gravity Falls brainrot has set in for good and these two idiots won't leave my head so I'm making it everyone's problem now

here are all the drawings without the lyrics!

[creepst-crypt]

It’s probably normal

[joicecubes]

was recently rewatching this scene and… god the way ford looks at him here…

it’s this level of softness we don’t really see on him a lot in his next few episodes, especially when he’s interacting with stan. like yeah, in a moment here he’ll tell stan he needs to get out of his house by the end of the summer, but its like he’s giving himself a second to really take in the sight of his brother. it’s been 30 years. he’s seeing him again for the first time in decades, they’ve both grown and aged without each other. ford just told stan he looks like their dad and he’s watching as stan denies it and laughs and elbows him like the old days, and for a moment ford just looks at him. with this gentleness. he forgets to be mad just to soak in the reality that he’s here again. with stan.

it’s shortlived obviously. and his grudge kicks in a minute later as the extra reality that his house has been transformed into a tourist trap and his identity has been stolen sets in. but that small moment :( ugh how much he must’ve missed him :( it kills me :((