
Digital Shrine to Stanley Pines // sometimes NSFW // I post edits on tiktok too, same @
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I Have A Personal Headcannon About Why Stan (post-portal Incident) Really Only Wears Button-up Shirts:
I have a personal headcannon about why Stan (post-portal incident) really only wears button-up shirts:
The first is that, even when he was homeless, he always had to keep a few on hand for court appearances. Whenever he seemed to have finally gotten his hands on a decent amount of money for some new clothes, he'd get a subpoena and have to buy another suit. Besides his car, they were the only nice things he had.
The other reason is that, for the first several months after the shoulder burn, it was pretty painful to pull regular shirts over his head - the way the fabric had to slide down over the burn, but also having to reach his arms overhead which would stretch the skin. He decided that button-ups were easier, and after a while, he liked the look and decided to keep it.
His casual wear is usually a hawaiian shirt or something similar, and even while fishing, he wears a short sleeve button-up and a vest. And he looks damn good with that second button open anyway, so I'm not complaining
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More Posts from Lkfarrout
What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapters 3 & 4
Posting two chapters today because I think they're best read together. As always the whole series is 18+ for mild sexual content.
New? Start at the beginning here - Chapter 1
Read Chapters 5 & 6 next
Enjoy! Press "keep reading"
18+ [Minors Do Not Interact]
Chapter 3
“No, Dipper, it needs to be closer!”
“Mabel, two chairs physically cannot be closer together,” Dipper gestured to a metal folding chair, its side completely flush with Stan’s armchair.
“What are you two fightin’ about now?”
“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel ran to him, but stopped suddenly, looking very concerned. “Is that what you’re gonna wear?”
Stan looked down at his robe and slippers. “This is what I wear every night.”
“But don’t you want to look good for Kathy?”
“Sweety, I’m not goin’ out with Kathy tonight.”
“I know, but she’s coming here! We ran into her in town and invited her for a movie night! You better get dressed.” Mabel ran off before Stan could say anything. He glanced around the shack and panic began to set in. Was that stain in the carpet always there? When did the TV get so small? And oh, god – a metal chair?
After weeks of lovely dates with Katherine, Stan knew he was ready to take things further. She was good with the kids, and got along with Ford, but he found himself putting off actually bringing her to the Mystery Shack. Beyond the gift shop, she had never actually been inside. Thanks to Mabel, he didn’t have a choice anymore. At least Stanford was at McGucket’s for the night and wouldn’t bore her to death with his nerd-talk.
Stan spent too long deciding what to wear. He finally put on his usual black pants and white shirt, opting out of the jacket and tie for a more casual look. He spent even longer in front of the mirror trying to determine just how many buttons to leave open. Just the top. No, the top two. Buttoning and unbuttoning several times before settling on the more conservative option.
A knock echoed through the shack and Mabel zipped toward the door. Stan impulsively unfastened the second button on his shirt before following her.
“Hi, Stan,” Kathy greeted him with a kiss. It didn’t last long, however, before Mabel pulled her away by the wrist.
“You get the comfy seat! We’re watching a period drama. It’s Grunkle Stan’s favorite.” Stan chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck while they all took their seats. Dipper strolled in with popcorn and plopped onto the floor next to Mabel.
Chapter 4
The soft glow of the scrolling movie credits illuminated Mabel’s face as she slept. That position couldn’t be very comfortable – on the floor, face pressed against Stanley’s leg. How a family this large managed with just one armchair in the living room was baffling to Kathy. Not as baffling as the pig actively chewing on Mabel’s sweater, however.
“Kids, go to bed.” Stan’s gruff voice roused Mabel from her sleep and Dipper led her and Waddles up to the attic.
“Well… can I get you something to drink?”
Kathy laughed and placed a hand on his arm, “I would love a bowl of cereal, actually.”
Stan laughed, “Well c’mon then.”
___
“So, uh, I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about something,” Stan began, between mouthfuls of cereal. They stood opposite each other under the fluorescent light of the kitchen. Stan tried to hide his desperate nerves by casually leaning against the counter. “I don’t know if you’re a waitin’ till marriage kinda gal, or what…”
Kathy cocked an eyebrow at him. Stan avoided her eyes. Instead, he looked down at his bowl and absentmindedly moved the spoon in little circles.
“But y’know, I figured we’d better get on the same page about sex. If you’re interested in that kind of thing.” He put his bowl down and looked up, “But either way, I think we have a great thing goin’ here.”
In response, Kathy put her bowl down as well. Expressionless, she looked him in the eyes and folded her arms. Stan coughed and began stammering an apology.
“Stan,” she interrupted him, and with a laugh, said, “I’m definitely interested.”
He nearly knocked his bowl off the counter as he stood up straight. “Really?” Kathy nodded, but Stan’s face grew puzzled. “How come ya never brought it up?”
She smiled. A subtle, devious sort of smile. “Well, sometimes guys your age have a hard time… being ready. I didn’t want to embarrass you,” she teased.
Stan’s look briefly turned to surprise before he chuckled and stepped forward. “I’ll have you know, I can be ready whenever I want. Without any pills, either.”
Kathy stepped closer, too, arms still crossed. She looked directly up at him. “Prove it.”
Stan smiled with the corner of his mouth. With his hands on her hips, he guided her backwards until she was securely pressed between his body and the kitchen island. He could feel his enthusiasm pressing into her lower stomach. He put his hands on the countertop on either side of her and leaned into her ear, “That enough proof for ya?”
His breath on her ear made it suddenly difficult to speak. She just managed to nod ‘yes’ before his lips met hers.
He slowly made his way down her jawline, then her neck. The stubble on his cheeks made her giggle and squirm. He relished every movement she made against his body.
"Stan?" Kathy whispered.
"Hmm?" He didn’t bother pulling away.
"How long has it been? Since the last time?"
His lips paused and lingered a moment before he straightened his back and ran a hand through his hair. With a nervous chuckle, he replied, "Geez honey, I thought you said you didn't wanna embarrass me."
“That long?”
He laughed, “I mean, it ain't exactly a turn on gettin’ called your brother’s name the whole time.”
“Yeah?” She teased him, fiddling with the edge of his open collar. “What would you like to be called then?”
Immediately, he was bright pink. For a man with such a tough exterior, it took very little to get him flustered.
She continued, relentless in her teasing, “Oh I know – Mr. Pines? No, Mr. Mystery?”
He laughed, “Just Stanley is good.”
“Okay, Just Stanley, where were we?” She grabbed him by his signature gold chain and pulled him down to meet her lips once more. He took a small step back, bringing her with him, away from the island. One hand found its way to the underside of her ass, and the other to her hip.
“Hold on to my shoulders.”
She obeyed, and with a soft grunt, he had her up on the counter.
“Stanley,” she panted, “I didn’t realize you could–”
The front door swung open with a crash and a voice boomed down the hallway.
“Stanley, you won’t believe what we accomplished!” Ford appeared in the kitchen doorway and his excited look disappeared. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”
“Scram, Sixer. This ain't your personal peep show.”
“Yup. Leaving.” He was already out of sight before the words were heard.
“Sorry ‘bout him, toots.”
“Oh it’s alright,” Kathy reassured him. “Now, what about that drink you mentioned earlier?”
Understanding (family fic)
No ships/romance, just angst
Summary: the grunkles bond over their traumas on the Stan-o-War
Warnings: dialogue about injury and SA, but no graphic descriptions. Some swearing.
"Oh, Stanley, you're awake?" Ford appeared on the slowly swaying deck of the Stan-o-War with a yawn.
Stan nodded from his chair, his fishing pole reflecting the moonlight, "Yeah, just needed some fresh air." He moved his tackle box from the seat next to him to let Ford sit. "Thought you were out cold, what're you doin' up?"
"It's juvenile, but," Ford took his seat and began to polish his glasses on his sweater and sighed, "I had a nightmare."
"Bout what?"
"Bill, of course." He replaced his glasses, "I know he's gone, but my subconscious doesn't seem to get it."
Stan gave his brother a sympathetic pat on shoulder before handing him a hook and some fishing line. "Thread this for me, would ya? Might take your mind off it."
Ford tried to line up the clear strand with the tiny hole, but found his hands were shaking badly. Knowing Stan was waiting, he made up an excuse, "It's hard to see in this dim light."
"Yeah, but you got better eyes than me," Stan chuckled, distracted by some mechanism on his fishing pole.
Stanford tried again and again, getting frustrated at his uncooperative hands. He could feel a lump rising in his throat. His vision began to blur with tears. "Shit," He swore under his breath as the hook nicked his thumb and fell to the deck.
"Hey, careful, that's my nicest hook!" Stanley bent to pick it up as Ford sucked the blood from the pad of his thumb.
He couldn't hold back the tears any more. He sniffled and let out a shuddered breath.
"Woah, hey, what happened?" Stan grabbed Ford's hand to inspect the cut, "C'mon, it's not that bad." But he could feel his twin's hand shaking along with his breath. "Stanford?" He let him go.
Ford put his head in his hands and sobbed. Stan gently removed his brother's glasses before they had a chance to fall. Unsure of what to say, he simply waited.
It was only a few moments before Stanford spoke, "He was horrible, Stanley. I'd wake up covered in bruises and cuts. My eyes would bleed. He broke my arm and ripped my hair out once. You have no idea what it's like to have someone use your body like that for their own sick amusement. To have someone inside you against your will."
Stan rubbed his twin's back, "I had no idea, Fordsy."
Ford sat up and wiped the tears away with his sleeve.
Stan continued, "Look, I might not get the whole possession thing, but," he handed Ford his glasses, "I kinda know the feeling."
"How could you possibly understand what I went through?"
Stan sat back in his chair and looked out at the expansive ocean. He cleared his throat, "I was pretty young my first time in prison. Fresh meat, y'know? Everybody wanted a piece of me..."
"Oh, Stanley, I didn't..." Ford trailed off, "But you were a good fighter, weren't you? You could defend yourself?"
Stan swallowed, "Most of the time, yeah. But once, they uh. They had us sleepin' four to a cell. These other guys decided they liked me and they'd take turns. Two'd hold me down while the other would, well..."
Ford interjected, "You don't need to continue Stan, I get it."
Stanley coughed, "One of those memories I hoped wouldn't come back, y'know?"
Stanford closed his eyes and inhaled the fresh sea air. "Stanley?"
"Hmm?"
"If we ever run into those bastards, I'll fucking kill them."
Stan just laughed, "You better, after I knocked Bill clean outta this dimension for ya."
i think its really really important to remember how EASILY stan couldve dropped a "now i have to deal with you BRATS for the summer.." or ford to slip a "dont let these snotty little children near my lab again, stan." but instead they never do that like. idk.
i like how the show makes it a very important and clear point that at least hear, the twins are Loved and Cherished and Wanted. so very wanted.
stan ADORES THEM. in his bones. hes trying to give them freedom but he is so so worried.
ford goes from growling to MELTING on sight "shermie had kids?" they are his babies.
its a very good and nice point like. these children are Loved and Wanted and their guardians are trying so hard and that is the bare minimum. and Not loving your kids is a bad fucked up thing to do with bad consequences.
what are y'all talking about Stan is a perfectly good cook. newly kicked out, sleeping in his car, you KNOW that boy is washing dishes at some dirtbag diner. now maybe he can't keep a gig for long, he's got a problem with authority and steals out of the register on a daily basis, but while they last it's better than working at a bar cause you get free meals, and you can always drive a few miles out and find another hole in the wall that's never heard of the last one that fired you. so he picks it up here and there, nothing fancy, pancakes and eggs and burgers, stuff that's cheap and filling. he definitely considers ketchup a vegetable, but also eats enough beans and potatoes that he probably doesn't have any serious vitamin deficiencies, even when the sales money pit gets real deep and he ends up dumpstering behind restaurants to scrounge up a semi decent meal. he never has a real kitchen until the shack, and he stocks up on canned food, and saves his bacon grease, and if he burns the hashbrowns he has to eat them anyway so he makes sure not to burn them. maybe he picked up a handful of special dishes on the road, dirty rice, Colombian arepas, fried fish. he certainly doesn't have cash to spare for a lot of fresh ingredients and seasonings, and he keeps insisting that he doesn't need that stuff anyway. but it helps break up the monotony of 50 easy recipes for brown meat.
What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapter 10
Last chapter of the main story but there's still more to come :)
As always, the series is 18+ for mild sexual content.
Start with Chapter 1 here if you're new and read Chapter 11 next
Enjoy! Thank you to everyone who has stuck through with this series, it's been super encouraging!
18+ [Minors do not interact]
“Can I put the code in, Grunkle Ford? I’ve never gotten to do it.”
“Go ahead, Mabel. Do you know it?”
“I think so,” Mabel tiptoed to see the panel on the vending machine in the dim light of the closed gift shop. With a few beeps, the large machine swung open to reveal a passageway, and Stan’s grip on Kathy’s hand tightened slightly. Ford led the way with the small flashlight he always kept in his pocket, with Dipper and Mabel close behind.
“Watch your step, pumpkin.” The light wasn’t quite bright enough to be useful for Kathy and Stan, who brought up the rear. Still, he confidently led her along, as if he knew the passageway like the back of his hand.
____
“Don’t get too close,” Ford held an arm out in front of the twins, “it still isn’t completely stable.” The sheer enormity of the thing was incredible. Kathy stared in awe at the massive chasm that surrounded her, and the giant triangle that stood as the focal point of it all. Even with chunks missing, and cables strewn about the concrete floor, it was still impressive.
“You built all of this, Stanford?” She asked.
“Hardly,” Ford placed both hands into his coat pockets, “Bill designed it, Fiddleford assembled most of it, and Stanley here perfected it. My job now is just to clean up the mess I started.”
The group fell quiet again as they all gazed around the cold room.
Ford broke the silence once again, “I could use some help, you know, Stanley. Removing some of the larger pieces will require both of us.”
Stan scoffed at him, “Sixer, you got ‘em up there yourself.”
Dipper cleared his throat and stared at Ford, as if to remind him of something they’d previously discussed. The latter sighed, defeated, “And, I suppose things would go faster if you could explain to me a few of those final calculations you did.”
Stan perked up. He slapped a hand onto his twin’s shoulder and leaned an ear in, close to his face. “Sorry, didn't quite catch that. You said you need my help with what?”
“With math,” Stanford rolled his eyes, “I need your help with some math.”
Kathy and the kids giggled.
Stan continued to relish in the moment, “Oh, I know what’s goin’ on. You got me confused with my brother – see, he’s got all these fancy degrees, but I never made it through high school.” He inspected his fingernails casually. “Course, that wasn’t my fault.”
Ford took the hint. “Stanley, I’m sorry I got you kicked out, but I could really use your help. I’m a little… rusty after thirty years.”
Stan slapped his brother playfully between the shoulder blades, “Why didn’t ya say so, Poindexter? Course I’ll help you.”