#hope you enjoy a sneaky peak of the stans having a conversation

[f-imaginings]

Can we get a sneaky peak at the next chapter? :3

tumblr's post limit has been yelling at me like it's so great, so it will probably only be a small snippet but I will do my best to get you the sneakiest of peeks!

“See that?” Stan pointed out, clapping his hand to his knee, cheerful fondness drenching his tone. “No matter what happens, they’ll always have each other. Just goes to show, you’re never lonely when you have a twin.” “Even so, the fact that he’s so reliant on her is concerning.” Ford remarked dismissively as if he hadn’t heard Stanley’s saccharine turn of phrase, missing the way his brother wrinkled his nose, appalled by his conclusion. “He’ll need to socialise independently at some point. Perhaps some time apart would be good for Dipper’s development? Help him feel more confident forging friendships on his own.” “You want to split ‘em up?” Stanley scowled at his brother, his eyes narrowed confrontationally. “What, ruining one set of twins wasn’t good enough for you?” Picking up on Stan’s hostile tone, Ford turned to face his brother, putting his hand on his chest indignantly. “This isn’t about us Stanley. This is about what’s best for Dipper.” “And how would you know what’s best for Dipper? Considering you’ve only known the kid for a couple of weeks, huh?” Stanley’s jaw jutted out stubbornly, his scowl deepening the wrinkles around his mouth. “What genius level insight makes you qualified to make those decisions for him?” “Well, you did say he reminded you of me.” Ford pointed out snidely, rising to his brother’s bait. “You don’t think I would have had an easier time making friends at university if I hadn’t been so reliant on you growing up?” “Is that what you think?” Stanley’s brow furrowed, more confused than offended. “I thought you were living it up at university. From what I heard from mom you were having the time of your life there.” “I didn’t know she’d be passing along reports.” Ford replied, looking slightly perturbed. “It wasn’t like that.” Stanley clarified. “We’d chat over the phone, a couple of yappers, the both of us. You know how mom was. It wasn’t like she was spying on you.” “Were you asking after me then?” Stanford looked at his brother curiously. “Don’t get a big head.” Stanley huffed and took a sip of his soda, looking away from Ford evasively. “Just making conversation. What else were we supposed to talk about? Dad?” “Ugh. Fair point.” Ford wrinkled his nose, shuddering dramatically, the tension dissipated in an instant. Changing the subject somewhat playfully, Ford tilted his head. “What else did you talk to mom about? Would you have told her about your whole ‘pug smuggling’ racket? How long has that scheme been going on for?” “Listen, it’s a perfectly legitimate business.” Stan gestured with his hands, his inner businessman taking the fore. “I source the pugs from little old ladies who wouldn’t be able to take care of that many dogs in the first place. Val sells ‘em across the border for a tidy profit, and I get my cut. Everyone’s happy.” “And this ‘Val’, how is it you know her exactly?” Ford probed, lacing his fingers together, resting his chin on his hands, watching his brother fluster slightly. “We’re old business partners.” Stanley replied, his taciturn answer more telling than a more forthcoming answer would be. “Oh, so you dated.” Ford remarked airily, enjoying the way his brother’s shoulders bunched up defensively. “How do you -? I mean, sure, I guess we mighta had a thing back in the day.” Stanley scratched the back of his neck, looking away evasively. “This was 30 years ago, mind you.” “Where did you meet her?” Ford questioned. Stanley paused, squinting at his brother’s interest dubiously, before he cast a look towards the living room, checking on the kids. Standing up, Stanley cracked his back, before pacing over to the fridge, grabbing a step stool and reaching for the taxidermied wolfs head. Sliding his hand in the wolf’s mouth, Stanley withdrew a small metal flask, and paced back over to the table, surreptitiously pouring a generous shot of vodka into the open pull tab of his cola. “Want some? I’m not having a conversation about my love life’s greatest hits sober.”

Raising his eyebrows, Ford slid his cola can across the table, amused as his brother furtively poured vodka into his drink before hiding the flask under his fez, looking over his shoulder again to check the kids didn’t see him drinking. “I was wondering why the wolf’s head was on the fridge.” Ford remarked, bringing the spiked cola to his lips. “I thought you quit drinking for the summer. Is there a flask stashed in the six-packalope too?” “Gotta have an emergency stash.” Stanley reasoned, leaning back in his chair comfortably. “What if the end of the world hits tomorrow? You wanna try getting through that without alcohol.”

Ford sheepishly avoided eye contact with his brother, well aware that the prospect of an oncoming apocalypse wasn’t entirely out of the question. Coughing slightly on his sip, Stanford cleared his throat. “I never took you for a prepper.” “Are you kidding? The amount of warnings you put in those journals, I was half expecting to kick doomsday off myself.” Stanley laughed callously. “Now I got all this brown meat I gotta eat. I’m almost disappointed nothing catastrophic happened.” “Well, you never know.” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, seeking a topic change so as to avoid admitting fault.