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[themsource]

The concept of this hit me like a dang sledge hammer one night when I was on my way to bed. Felt like my heart was gonna burst if I wasn’t careful. This is Stan’s first grandchild of many. They probably adopt a few too. But Stanley’s the one he ends up closest to.

Stan regularly reminds everyone she’s going to have to fight him to the death when she’s 13 to keep her name.

[themsource]

I LOVE being autistic and trying to communicate because every time it’s

[themsource]

This is the third time I’ve played Portal 2, and I can’t believe I haven’t thought to do this until now. I don’t have the patience for video editing so it’d be super amazing if someone’ll put a mashup thing together sometime. x

Why do I now want a Portal AU about Ford/Cave Johnson and his assistant Fiddleford/Caroline oh no.

[themsource]

[themsource]

Dance With Me, Sway With Me - Ch. 1 : 2

Screw it. 

You have very limited options and it doesn’t matter if anything happens to your car if you can’t save her or yourself in the first place.

The gas station is the best choice.

You’ll just have to cross your fingers and hope ‘desert bandits’ are the stuff of urban legends.

Going back to your car, you quickly change into a tank top, discarding your sweat soaked shirt, and then proceed to make a mental note of all your possessions and where exactly they are before locking the old girl up as best as you can, going so far as to use your sheets to block the windows as to deter any potential temptation should anyone show up.

Satisfied, you then set off at a quick pace down the road.

It’s twenty minutes later you start regretting your decision.

The road feels as if it goes on forever, and the scattered sands beyond it even more so as a shiver runs the length of your spine. For some reason it feels as if you're being watched, but no matter where you look you don’t see anything, the darkness only allowing you maybe ten feet worth of vision at best.

“Should’ve brought a flashlight,” you grumble.

Maybe you’re simply imagining it, this uncomfortable and suffocating feeling. It is dark, and people have talked about seeing things that aren’t there in the encompassing shadows. Maybe it’s even just some sort of wildlife observing as you pass by, like foxes…

Or coyotes…

Yep, you were regretting this.

Without any conscious thought you quicken your pace, uncaring if it makes the heat more unbearable and your parched tongue ache even more.

Eventually, after what feels like an hour you finally see something.

The thick black breaks in the distance as the faint illumination of fluorescent lights turns the surroundings a blurrish grey, shifting the closer you get to the signature blinding white of store lights and revealing a small orange colored bullying that looks almost as if it’s made from clay rather than the cement you know it is.

The sight of gas pumps right in front of it makes your heart soar.

“Finally!”

You nearly break into a run, only stopping the moment your hand connects with the metal handle of the store’s front door and a small bell jingles as you enter.

Instantly your eyes meet a young woman sitting at the store’s counter, her brown eyes finding yours as she pops a bubble of gum between her cherry red lips, the updo of her equally brown and wildly curly hair falling over one shoulder to highlight one of the large hoop earrings she’s wearing along with a groovy pink blazer that blends well with her dark complexion.

She offers you a small nod which you return on instinct, before her gaze drifts back down to the magazine she’s reading.

Taking a deep breath, you linger for a moment, grateful for the rush of cool conditioned air as you try to plan your next course of action.

Not wanting to come across weird or anything, you choose to wander the aisles, looking but not seeing as you pass by several different snacks and medicines.

And then something catches your attention.

An otherwise inconsequential blue tag on one of the racks, displaying the cost for a bag of Doritos.

Tinnitus flares in your ears.

The prices…

They’re not listed in dollars, but pesos.

Vaguely, the store’s bell faintly jingles again, but you’re too transfixed with the bag of Doritos whose flavour is written in obvious Spanish to pay any mind to it. 

Not once had you ever seen Spanish labeled chips anywhere in the states, let alone a gas station.

A ball of dread curls up in your gut.

Previous

[themsource]

evil kitty... bad kitty....

[themsource]

Happy birthday Stan

Back to our regularly scheduled stangst

Loosely inspired by that one lowest moment on thisisnotawebsitedotcom.

More yapping and WIPS under the cut

The loose idea that this is after he realized nobody was coming to his party and before he started drinking the night away.

I also thought it would be silly for him to have a mirror to pretend Ford is there. Plus the glasses and all the other stuff.

I was gonna post this in a week bc of my birthday but decided against it

[themsource]

Dance With Me, Sway With Me - Ch. 1 : 1

It’s hot, sweltering.

Despite it being close to midnight, it feels as if it’s the middle of the day, the sun beating down relentlessly upon your back and causing sweat to run—wet and slick, sticky and gross���down the side of your face as you curse under your breath for what feels like the hundredth time.

You’re somewhere in the middle of what you believe to be the desert, the sight of civilization long having faded in your rearview mirror along with the setting sun.

And apparently your car’s poor ignition.

You blame yourself, if you’d stopped maybe an hour ago, two even, then maybe you wouldn’t have pushed her so hard and caused her to die in the middle of nowhere. For the last three days you’d been driving almost non-stop on fumes and bad oil, and now you were paying the consequences for it.

No matter what you do you can’t seem to find what exactly is wrong: the battery still has a charge, the coils and spark plugs as far as you can tell are fine, and the starter motor seems okay too with the way it clicks and grinds whenever you attempt to turn it.

Sweat drips into your eyes and you hiss as you wipe it away, before throwing your wrench down with a grunt of annoyance and leaning over your baby’s engine block as you hang your head.

Damnit.

At this rate, it is looking as if you’re going to need a mechanic. 

You have some rudimentary knowledge when it comes to cars but not enough. There’s only one issue with trying to find a professional, other than the fact you’re in the middle of nowhere, and it’s money.

The whole reason you were making a drive like this in the first place was because you were job hunting, and trying to find a new place to live to boot that actually had affordable housing after having been evicted by your landlord due to property taxes being increased. 

It had nearly tripled your rent, and regardless of the long history you’d had with Mr. Boswick the old man had seen fit to kick you to the curb instead of trying to be patient and help you out by letting you stay until you could’ve found better employment.

From there it had been a domino effect.

One mess right after the other.

Lost your home, lost your job because ‘homelessness isn’t beneficial to attracting customers’, and had even lost your cat to the neighbor because Minxie couldn’t survive living out of a car like you could—he’d needed a stable home, AC during this god awful summer, and just so much that you can’t afford right now.

“Give me a break,” you mumble under your breath.

With a sigh, you push off of your car and lean back with a satisfying pop before looking around. All you can see is the long stretch of road just barely visible in the heavy darkness with a few cactuses here and there.

And then your eyes widen.

A green road sign is only a few feet away, and you’re quick to jog over to it. The sign has a picture of a gas pump, and an arrow pointing further down the road beneath it.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you let out a disbelieving laugh. 

This is great! 

Maybe you’re not in the middle of nowhere quite like you thought. If there was a gas sign then there was sure to be people, and where there were people there was food, water (oh god, water), a bed, and even—fate willing, a mechanic! You could figure out the money situation later, right now all you cared about was not being stranded.

You look back towards your car, and immediately frown.

Going to the gas station would mean abandoning your precious vehicle. Right now it’s not only your home but your entire life. Everything you own and care about is currently tucked away in her trunk and back seat.

Didn’t you hear stories about desert bandits at one point in your life? 

If you ended up losing your car you’d really be screwed.

But at the same time, do you really have a choice?

You don't know what's wrong with your car, but you could keep working on it to see if by some miracle you figure out what the problem is, and then cross your fingers that you have everything you need to fix it before dehydration or heat stroke sets in.

Or, you could risk however long the walk is to the gas station and hope that it's not only 24 hours, but that whoever is manning it has the capability to help you by finding you a tow truck, and that nothing happens to your car while you're gone.

That nothing destroys or steals what remains of your life.

Either way, it's a tough decision.

You bite your lip as you grip your hand and dig your thumb into your palm, indecisive and fidgety.

[themsource]

Ahhhh <3 so happy you love it!!

You write pinning and loss so beautifully. Deserve all the fanart ^^

His eyes found Andrew’s and locked with them, his expression changing from vacant shock to calm focus.

“I’m in love with you,” Ford said calmly.

“What?” Andrew croaked, the part of him that was still Stanley Pines certain that he must have misheard.

“Andy. Stanley.” Ford said both names with equal weight, then repeated; “I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck you, don’t joke with me.” Stanley said, freshly eighteen and fumbling his words in front of a man who reminded him so much of an older version of his brother that it was painful. The sight of him alone twisted the open wound in his chest, bleeding anew from the place where his heart had been ripped out by the closing of a curtain. “The hell would you say that for?”

- Happy Pills (How much is happiness worth to you?): Chapter 13

~~

Another great story that really ripped my heart out <3

@frogsandboxes really delivers on the angst, and tells a wonderful narrative that's so good you have to read it twice 🥹

[themsource]

characters going “we were lovers once”: eh, it’s okay i guess. it’s nice enough

characters going “we were friends once”: absolutely devastating. one hit knockout i’m gone

[themsource]

His eyes found Andrew’s and locked with them, his expression changing from vacant shock to calm focus.

“I’m in love with you,” Ford said calmly.

“What?” Andrew croaked, the part of him that was still Stanley Pines certain that he must have misheard.

“Andy. Stanley.” Ford said both names with equal weight, then repeated; “I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck you, don’t joke with me.” Stanley said, freshly eighteen and fumbling his words in front of a man who reminded him so much of an older version of his brother that it was painful. The sight of him alone twisted the open wound in his chest, bleeding anew from the place where his heart had been ripped out by the closing of a curtain. “The hell would you say that for?”

- Happy Pills (How much is happiness worth to you?): Chapter 13

~~

Another great story that really ripped my heart out <3

@frogsandboxes really delivers on the angst, and tells a wonderful narrative that's so good you have to read it twice 🥹

[themsource]

Them

[themsource]

Dance With Me, Sway With Me - Ch. 1 : 1

It’s hot, sweltering.

Despite it being close to midnight, it feels as if it’s the middle of the day, the sun beating down relentlessly upon your back and causing sweat to run—wet and slick, sticky and gross—down the side of your face as you curse under your breath for what feels like the hundredth time.

You’re somewhere in the middle of what you believe to be the desert, the sight of civilization long having faded in your rearview mirror along with the setting sun.

And apparently your car’s poor ignition.

You blame yourself, if you’d stopped maybe an hour ago, two even, then maybe you wouldn’t have pushed her so hard and caused her to die in the middle of nowhere. For the last three days you’d been driving almost non-stop on fumes and bad oil, and now you were paying the consequences for it.

No matter what you do you can’t seem to find what exactly is wrong: the battery still has a charge, the coils and spark plugs as far as you can tell are fine, and the starter motor seems okay too with the way it clicks and grinds whenever you attempt to turn it.

Sweat drips into your eyes and you hiss as you wipe it away, before throwing your wrench down with a grunt of annoyance and leaning over your baby’s engine block as you hang your head.

Damnit.

At this rate, it is looking as if you’re going to need a mechanic. 

You have some rudimentary knowledge when it comes to cars but not enough. There’s only one issue with trying to find a professional, other than the fact you’re in the middle of nowhere, and it’s money.

The whole reason you were making a drive like this in the first place was because you were job hunting, and trying to find a new place to live to boot that actually had affordable housing after having been evicted by your landlord due to property taxes being increased. 

It had nearly tripled your rent, and regardless of the long history you’d had with Mr. Boswick the old man had seen fit to kick you to the curb instead of trying to be patient and help you out by letting you stay until you could’ve found better employment.

From there it had been a domino effect.

One mess right after the other.

Lost your home, lost your job because ‘homelessness isn’t beneficial to attracting customers’, and had even lost your cat to the neighbor because Minxie couldn’t survive living out of a car like you could—he’d needed a stable home, AC during this god awful summer, and just so much that you can’t afford right now.

“Give me a break,” you mumble under your breath.

With a sigh, you push off of your car and lean back with a satisfying pop before looking around. All you can see is the long stretch of road just barely visible in the heavy darkness with a few cactuses here and there.

And then your eyes widen.

A green road sign is only a few feet away, and you’re quick to jog over to it. The sign has a picture of a gas pump, and an arrow pointing further down the road beneath it.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you let out a disbelieving laugh. 

This is great! 

Maybe you’re not in the middle of nowhere quite like you thought. If there was a gas sign then there was sure to be people, and where there were people there was food, water (oh god, water), a bed, and even—fate willing, a mechanic! You could figure out the money situation later, right now all you cared about was not being stranded.

You look back towards your car, and immediately frown.

Going to the gas station would mean abandoning your precious vehicle. Right now it’s not only your home but your entire life. Everything you own and care about is currently tucked away in her trunk and back seat.

Didn’t you hear stories about desert bandits at one point in your life? 

If you ended up losing your car you’d really be screwed.

But at the same time, do you really have a choice?

You don't know what's wrong with your car, but you could keep working on it to see if by some miracle you figure out what the problem is, and then cross your fingers that you have everything you need to fix it before dehydration or heat stroke sets in.

Or, you could risk however long the walk is to the gas station and hope that it's not only 24 hours, but that whoever is manning it has the capability to help you by finding you a tow truck, and that nothing happens to your car while you're gone.

That nothing destroys or steals what remains of your life.

Either way, it's a tough decision.

You bite your lip as you grip your hand and dig your thumb into your palm, indecisive and fidgety.

Setup Next

[themsource]

I don’t know man, i don’t know what to tell you

[themsource]

Weird old men in a weird country (and more spanish speaker Stanley)

People need to draw sea grunkles visiting their countries and getting in trouble with local cryptids, or just doing tourism XD

[themsource]

70s-80s, huh?

As the great Austin Powers would say: Groovy baby~ XD

Last question.

Got a name?

(If the ask box suggestion wins there will be one last additional poll where suggestions will be voted on)

~~

Chapter 1 - Start

Dance With Me, Sway With Me - Setup

Let's play a game!

Who likes choose your own adventures? I loved them as a kid, and I practically read all of the goosebump ones, so how about we do a fun Stanley Pines - Reader one?

You vote on the choices and I'll write it out based on the results!

So, who are you?

(This will also decide your sex in case we enter spicy territory)

(Just for awareness I am an adult in my 30s writing for what I assume to be an older audience, so do not try to assume this won't have mature themes or subjects that are not family friendly and may even get a little bit dark. There will be cussing and whatever else people choose to vote for. Do not participate if you can't handle that sort of thing as I am very no holds barred with my writing - I will write anything. But it will be the votes that decide how far it goes if at all)

[themsource]

The sexyman of all sexymen