Stan Pines X Oc - Tumblr Posts

best date ever (Stan pines x fem!reader)

A date with Stan, what could go wrong?

You never really knew what to expect from Stanley Pines. After all, this was the same guy who could sell you a so-called "ancient artifact" that turned out to be an old cereal box toy and still convince you it was worth every penny. So when he asked you out, you weren’t exactly sure how it would go. He wasn’t the flowers-and-chocolates type; instead, Stan was. . . well, Stan.

That’s probably what got you here, standing in front of the window, watching the unmistakable silhouette of the Stanmobile pull into your driveway. The thing was pretty loud. You heard the muffler rattle as Stan turned off the engine, and then the door creaked open with a metallic sound that made your eye twitch. A date with Stanley Pines. . . What could possibly go wrong?

Too nervous, you opened the door first before he even could knock and there he was, standing on your porch like some kind of hero from a forgotten old movie. Wearing a white shirt with the first buttons unbuttoned, dark brown trousers and. . . was he wearing an eyepatch?

As soon as he opened his mouth to greet you, you started a dialogue first. Oh damn, yes, that was awkward, but you kept going.

"Lookin' sharp," you teased, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, well, it’s not every day a guy like me gets to take a gal like you out,” he flashed you that wide, confident grin that didn’t quite match his eyes though. He shifted a little, like he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. “You ready for the best date of your life or what?”

You tried, really tried, not to laugh at how absurd the eyepatch looked on him. You leaned on the doorframe. “Okay, I gotta ask. . . what’s with the eyepatch? Did you lose a fight with a tourist or something?”

His grin faltered for a second and you swear you saw him hesitate. He scratched the back of his head, looking away, as if he was caught off guard for some ridiculous act. Yeah, right now he really wanted to wash away the shame. “Oh, uh, this?” he gestured to the eyepatch, trying to look casual. “Just, uh. . . battle wound. You know, dangerous life and all that.”

You tilted your head, amused, waiting for the real answer. “Stan. . .”

He gave himself a mental slap in the face, yanking the patch off with a quick flick of his wrist. "You saw nothing." he muttered with deadly seriousness before stuffing it into his pocket.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. For all his boldness, the fact that he tried to impress you, however clumsily, was so cute. “You don’t need to try that hard, you know. I. . . kind of like you just the way you are.”

His cheeks reddened, but just slightly, and he cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly. “Yeah, well. . . don’t let it get to your head, alright?”

The passenger door of the Stanmobile creaked as you opened it and slid into the worn, cracked seat. The car smelled faintly of old leather and stale coffee, and the dashboard was littered with random trinkets, coins, and a few crumpled wrappers. Stan slammed his door shut, giving the steering wheel a hard pat before starting the engine.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, glancing over at him.

The plan was simple — or at least, it was supposed to be. A nice dinner in town, maybe a little romantic walk after, and if things went well, who knew? But with Stan, nothing ever went according to plan.

As the Stanmobile sputtered its way down the road, you couldn’t help but glance over at Stan again. He was focused on the road, hands gripping the wheel just a little too tightly. There was a kind of quiet tension about him tonight that wasn’t there on the usual days when you stopped by the Shack. Maybe it was just the date thing, maybe he really was nervous? The thought surprised you, but you liked it. It made him more. . . real, in a way. You liked that side of him. 

Yeah, diner turned out to be everything Stan had promised and more. It was like stepping into a time machine that had malfunctioned halfway through. Neon signs flickered above the entrance, and the interior was a strange mix of retro and. . . You couldn’t find the right word to describe. The red vinyl stands were cracked and peeling, tarnished with age. It smelled of old oil and nostalgia, like a place that had long outlived its heyday, but still maintained it with stubborn pride. 

It looked like it hadn’t changed since the '50s, but it was full to the brim. Of course, he hadn’t thought to make a reservation.

“Should’ve figured,” Stan grumbled, glaring at the crow. “You’d think folks around here would have better taste than to crowd this dump.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Says the man who scams them daily.”

He gave you a wide smile. “Hey, I provide a valuable service. It’s called entertainment, toots.”

The jukebox in the corner of the room crackled to life, spitting out an old Elvis song that skipped every few beats. Stan’s brow furrowed in irritation, but there was something undeniably charming about the whole mess. It felt like a place he’d drag you to — not because it was fancy or impressive, but because it was something that always made happy and he wanted to share these feelings with you. Show them to you.

You were halfway through your milkshake (which, to be fair, wasn’t that bad, though Stan grumbled about the price) when the music changed. A slow, syrupy doo-wop tune hummed through the air, and Stan’s expression softened. His fingers tapped against the edge of the table, and he glanced up at you, his eyes shifting with something like uncertainty.

“So. . . you wanna dance?”

Your heart skipped a beat at that question, and for a second you wondered if you had heard him right. You blinked, then smiled. “With you? Absolutely.”

Stan stood, offering you his hand with a cocky grin. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya, baby. I’m pretty much the king of the dance floor.”

You laughed, took his hand, and let him lead you into the tiny space between the booths. The floor was sticky and the lighting was terrible, but none of that mattered. You moved together, swaying awkwardly at first, but gradually finding a rhythm, Stan's warm hand slid down your back to your waist. In the world around you, it's just the two of you in your own little bubble of retro music and flickering neon light.

The date continued in typical Stan fashion - messy, loud, but weirdly charming. He ordered way too much food, insisting that “you only live once” and somehow managing to spill half a plate of fries onto the floor when his hand gestures got a little too wild. He told stories, some of them most obvious lies, but you could tell that a few were real, even though he never said so. Tales of his past, of scams gone wrong and of the time he got banned from New Jersey. You couldn't help but laugh together with him, because the sheer absurdity of it all made the evening much more enjoyable than you expected.

But just when you thought the night was going smoothly, the universe, and Stan’s luck, had other plans.

You were just halfway through your burger when the sound of sirens cut through the air, flashing red and blue lights flashed in the windows. Stan froze, his eyes widening just a little too much for someone who claimed to have nothing to hide.

“Uh, Stan, what’s with the cops?” you asked, already having a bad feeling.

Stan shrugged, a little too casually. “Probably just grabbing a bite to eat. Y’know, doughnuts and all that.”

Before you could answer, two policemen entered the diner and went straight to the table where you were sitting.

Stan's face changed instantly as he looked at you. “Uh. . . hey, why don’t we, uh, take our food to go?"

“Stanford Pines?” the cop asked, pulling out a notepad.

“Uh, it’s Sta-“ Stan came to his senses in time, suddenly sweating. He leaned forward, trying to give the guy his best innocent smile. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, officer. I’m just here enjoying a nice, peaceful evening with my girl.”

The cop didn’t look convinced. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between Stan and the cop, your heart sinking. “Stan, what’s going on?”

Stan bit his lip, rubbing his neck. “Eh, nothing to worry about, babe. Just. . . might have some, uh, unpaid parking tickets. No big deal.”

“Sta”- you wanted to repeat, but Stan interrupted you, clearly not letting you speak.

He avoided your gaze, focusing on the cop instead. “Look, officer, I’ll take care of the fines. Can’t we, uh, settle this quietly? I’ve got money.” he reached into his pocket, probably for his wallet, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. Was he gonna pay with Stan bucks?

The cop didn’t budge, looking more annoyed by the second. But before you could process what was happening, the waiter reappeared next to your table, holding up the check. “Sir, your total is-“

But before he could finish the sentence, Stan grabbed your hand with a sudden burst of adrenaline. “C'mon! Time to make a quick exit,” he muttered, pulling you towards the door.

You barely had a chance to grab your things as he rushed to the exit, taking you with him, the cop’s voice rising behind you. “Sir! Sir, you can’t just-“

Too late. Stan was already moving at a speed you wouldn’t have thought possible for a man his age, practically dragging you across the diner floor. The bell above the door gave a loud ring as you burst outside, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap.

“What- Stan! What are you doing?” you shouted, trying to keep up as he raced toward the parking lot.

“Trust me, doll, I know what I’m doing!” he shouted back, fumbling with his car keys as you both headed straight for his battered old Stanmobile.

Stan yanked the door open, practically shoving you into the passenger seat. “Sorry, sweetheart, but we’re not getting arrested on our first date!” he said, giving you a grin that was way too proud for a man who’s running from the cops.

You barely had time to buckle your seatbelt before he slammed the driver’s door shut and jammed the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered, wheezed, and then roared to life with a sound like an angry chainsaw. “Atta girl, that’s it,” Stan muttered under his breath, patting the dashboard like it was a horse in an old western.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw a policeman running out of the diner, shouting something into a walkie-talkie. “S-Stan!”

“I see ’em!” Stan yelled, throwing the car into reverse and peeling out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. “Hold on tight!”

The car spun around, almost crashing into a lamp post. You were pretty sure you heard the cop yell something about backup, but all you could focus on was the blurred outlines of trees and neon lights flashing by as Stan raced down the street

“Okay, okay- this is fine,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the door handle hard. “We’re totally fine. Just a casual date. Running from the cops. No big deal.”

Stan burst into a loud laugher, clearly enjoying himself way more than he should have been. “Y’know, I’ve been in worse situations! Once outran a bunch of angry tax collectors in a boat! You’d be surprised what you can get away with if you’ve got the right distractions!”

“Stan!” you screamed in fear, and your heart jumped into your throat as the car swerved, almost hitting a raccoon running across the road.

“Relax, kid! I got this!” Stan assured you, his voice somehow both panicked and excited at the same time. He slammed on the gas, sending the car hurtling down a back road, away from the diner. The flashing lights of the police car in the rearview mirror were getting smaller, but you weren't sure how long it would last.

Just as you were about to ask if he had a plan (or if the plan was just "drive like hell"), Stan suddenly pulled off the road, skidding into a small dirt clearing hidden behind a bunch of trees. He cut the engine, motioning for you to stay quiet.

You sat there, breathless, scared, the sound of your racing heart filling the silence when a police car sped past, its siren fading in the distance.

There was a long, tense pause where you two just looked at each other. Then Stan leaned back in his seat, exhaling deeply. “Whew. Close call. That was cool, huh?” he turned to you, grinning like a kid who’d just gotten away with sneaking into a movie.

You couldn't help but stare at him, feeling something between disbelief and. . . oddly enough, admiration. Only Stanley Pines could turn a first date into getaway.

“Stan,” you finally said, breaking the silence, “we just fled a crime scene.”

“Eh, ‘crime’ is such a strong word,” he replied, waving his hand dismissively. “More like a. . . misunderstanding.”

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips despite everything. Only with Stan.

But as the adrenaline slowly faded, you could see something else creeping into his expression, something much less cocky and way more. . . defeated, sad even. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and his shoulders slumped.

“I really messed up tonight, huh?” his voice was quieter now, a lot more vulnerable than you’d ever heard him. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, just staring out the windshield. “I wanted to show you a good time. Prove I wasn’t just. . . y’know, some washed-up old guy who can’t get anything right. And look where we are. Hiding out in the woods, running from cops.” he laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m an idiot.”

The silence that followed was heavy, you looked at him again. There was something heartbreaking about seeing Stan like this, behind all this bragging and show-off there was a man who truly cared what you thought of him. And right now, he looked like he had failed.

But then, through the trees, you noticed a glimpse of the sky. The full moon hung low, flooding the clearing with a soft silver light. It was strangely peaceful here now, away from the chaos what just happened, and you found yourself smiling no matter what.

You reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “hey, Stan, look up.”

He frowned, confused, but did as you asked, his eyes following yours to the sky.

“It’s beautiful, right?” you said softly. “The full moon, the stars. . . this moment.”

Stan blinked, like he hadn’t expected that. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“And you didn’t mess up,” you added, turning to him with a soft smile. “Tonight was. . . well, sure, it was an adventure, but that's what makes you the man I love. You're not a loser, Stan. Not for me.

He stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what you were saying. “You- you really mean that?”

“Yeah,” you answered him, your voice filled with sincerity. “I’d take a wild night with you over a boring, perfect one any day.”

There was a long pause while your words seemed to reach him. And then, slowly, Stan’s face broke into a real, genuine smile. Not his usual cocky smirk or sarcastic grin, just a simple, warm smile.

“Y’know, you’re somethin’ special,” he said softly, his hand tightening around yours. “I don’t deserve ya, but... I’m real glad you’re here.”

You leaned in a little closer, your heart fluttering as the distance between you got shorter. “I’m glad too, Stan.”

The moonlight bathed the two of you in its soft glow, and in that moment, despite the chaos of the night, everything felt. . . right.

Stan Pines is the kind of man who can't just let you do anything without turning it into a compliment, like, every move you make, he's gotta say something. And it’s never normal. 

You could be bent over organising some random crap around the Mystery Shack and this man will make it sound like you’re posing for him. Because, yeah, you’re just trying to organize his disaster of a desk, sorting through all his crumpled receipts, ticket stubs, whatever the hell else he’s hoarded.

“Your doin’ god’s work, sugar,” and it’s not even subtle. You look over your shoulder, half expecting him to actually be paying attention to the pile of garbage you're dealing with, but no. He’s leaning against the counter, counting out cash from the register, but all you see is that smirk. The one that makes it very clear his mind ain’t on the paperwork.

“Sorting your trash is god’s work?” you quip back, rolling your eyes, but the way he’s watching you with that smirk of his, makes your cheeks flush a bit.

“You know what I mean,” Stan mutters and now he’s just full-on undressing you with his eyes, the cash in his hands forgotten. “ya ain’t gotta try so hard, baby, because ya could sit on your ass all day and I’d still think ya did somethin’ special.” and your face burns at that, but he sees it, of course, he does. Stan ain’t dumb, despite the act he puts on for tourists. He’s so much more clever than he looks, always has been. The moment he catches that excitement in your eyes, he’s grinning like he’s just won a damn lottery.

“You like that, huh? being told how good you are?”

You smirk back, trying to play it off, but your voice comes out a little breathier than you mean for it to. “all that for organizing receipts? maybe you should give me a raise.” 

Stan just laughs loudly. “yeah, sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn Shack.”

Or when, you’re just sitting at the counter, counting the cash from the register, going about your day and Stan? Well, Stan is “cleaning up,” which basically means he’s wiping the same spot for like five minutes straight while staring at you. You catch him, because he’s being too obvious with it. His eyes keep dipping to your lips every time you bite your pen and it’s distracting as hell.

“You’re too damn cute, y’know that?” he grumbles and it sounds like he’s mad about it, like you’ve done something wrong just by existing.

“You say that every day.” you shoot him a teasing smile, because yeah, this is the daily routine.

And Stan just sighs, smirking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, and I’ll keep sayin’ it, sorry, baby, couldn’t shut up about ya if I tried.” 

Then there’s when you’re fixing up one of the old displays, just tightening bolts or whatever and Stan’s “supervising.” Except by “supervising,” I mean, he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you work with that wide grin on his face, satisfied and clearly enjoying the view.

“Goddamn, honey,” he mutters. “you makin’ this place look good just by bein’ in it. Hm, maybe I should start charging you for the view.” 

You glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrow, but smirking, because you know exactly what game he’s playing.

“What? I’d pay whatever ya want, sweetheart. You’re worth every penny.” 

Or you’re just in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables for dinner. The radio’s on low, the sun setting through the windows. Stan’s sitting at the table, pretending to read the newspaper, but every once in a while you catch him glancing over the edge, just watching you move around the kitchen. It’s quiet until he breaks it.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, y’know that?” his voice is so soft, too sincere for Stanley Pines, but when you look over, he’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

You pause, knife in hand, and raise an eyebrow. “For chopping onions?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Nah, sugar, it’s just the way you’re movin’ around in there, i dunno how to explain it, but damn, you look good in my kitchen.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m literally cutting onions, Stan.”

“Yeah, still sexy. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Then there’s the mornings. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, hair a mess, wearing one of Stan’s old shirts that hangs way too big on you and he's leaning in the doorway, watching you like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You catch his reflection in the mirror, raising an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs with this lazy grin, continuing to admire to you.

“Can’t help it, sweetie, you look cute when you’re all domestic.”

you’re just brushing your teeth, but somehow, this man makes it sound like you’re doing the sexiest damn thing in the world

some sketchy stan shenanigans from magma with friends tonight :) ft. my gravity falls sona! i'll be posting more about them sometime soon!!

as promised, here's my gravity falls sona!!!

(they/he) their name is arthur "arty" fact, and they work at the gravity falls history museum!! their favorite passtimes are foraging for local mushrooms and visiting hoo-ha's jamboree (hence the shirt, lol). they are dating stan, ford, and @eadekki's gf sona gryphon!!! :D more versions under the cut!

What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapter 1

My first fic guys! (I'm gonna throw up I'm so nervous)

Read Chapter 2 next!

This is the first chapter out of probaby 10 or more and I plan to post a chapter a day. Takes place the summer after the show does, and introduces an OC/love interest for Stan named Kathy :)))

While there's no real smut in it (so far), there is some mild sexual content so I will be marking the whole series as 18+. There is some light angst, arguments, etc. This series really could be titled "Stanley Pines is forced to actually talk about his feelings for once in his life"

Enjoy! Press 'keep reading' for the fic

18+ [minors do not interact]

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack,” the redhead at the counter was less than enthusiastic – she barely bothered to glance up from her magazine. Kathy lingered at the counter and studied the interior of the store. The walls were covered in shelves of bizarre amalgamations of animal parts, interspersed with hats and t-shirts and a few hand-painted signs that said “No Refunds”.  A few customers browsed the items, including an older man in a light blue Hawaiian shirt eyeing a treat inside the vending machine.

“Could I talk to your boss, Soos, if he isn't busy?” 

The girl looked at the clock, then back down at her reading, and said “He’s finishing a tour right now. What do you need?”

Kathy dug around in her bag. “I’m new in town, just reopened the motel. I was wondering if I could leave some business cards here?” 

At that, the man at the vending machine spun around.

“Actually, I’m the owner of this fine establishment.” He leaned an elbow on the counter and proudly gestured around the room. Suddenly, she found her hand in his and he shook it firmly. “Stan Pines – original Mr. Mystery.” His rough, but confident voice echoed through the giftshop.

Kathy tried to meet his eyes but instead found herself staring at the open collar of his shirt. A gold chain poked through a bit of hair that matched the thick silver stands on his head. 

“Sorry,” she began with a small laugh, “I thought you were a customer.”

“I guess you could say I’m retired,” he replied, gesturing to a $15 bobble-head of a man in a black suit and fez. Kathy could sort of see the resemblance, especially the nose. “But I’m not too old to recognize a good business opportunity!” He grabbed the cards from her other hand and studied them. Gravity Falls Twin Bed Motel - now under new management. Open Friday -Monday. He flipped it over to find a name and a phone number. Katherine Phillips, owner. 

“Lovely to meet ya, Katherine. Welcome to town.” He shook her hand again.

“Thank you Stan, but you can call me Kathy,” she replied.

“I’ll strike a deal with you, Kathy. I’ll hand out your business cards if you take some of these,” he handed her a stack of bumper stickers, “and send a few people this way.”

“That’s exactly what I had in mind.” She threw the stickers in her bag. “I look forward to working with you. See you around, Stan” Then, Kathy did something stupid – she winked at him. She wasn’t entirely sure why, other than it seemed that this man’s charisma was rubbing off on her. As soon as she winked, however, every drop of charisma, every minute of sales experience, every cool, casual part of Stan instantly vaporized. A slight pink tinge flooded his cheeks and he cleared his throat into his fist. 

“Yeah, I’ll see ya around.” He watched her walk out the door, then watched her get in her car, then watched her drive off. Before he knew it a hand was waving in front of his face.

“Mr. Pines?”

“Huh?” He shook himself out of it. “Oh, Soos.”

“I see you met Kathy.” Soos nudged Stan with his elbow.

“You know her?”

“She hired my grandma to clean motel rooms – real nice lady. And close to your age too, Mr. Pines.”

Stan considered this information, and started fiddling with the stack of business cards. “What are ya sayin’?”

“Well, you know, ever since I met Melody, I’m sort of like the expert on relationships. I’m sure if you don’t ask her out, Mabel will do it for you when she gets into town.”

“No, Soos, I couldn’t…” Stan began.

“Mr. Pines,” Wendy butted in, “she winked at you. C’mon, ask her out! Ask her out!” She pounded on the counter in rhythm, and Soos joined in the chanting.

“Ask her out! Ask her out!”

“Fine!” Stan grabbed a business card and shoved it in his pocket. “Just get back to work.”

_______

With a deep breath, Stan picked up the phone’s receiver and began dialing. 

“Kathy? It’s Stan… yeah, from yesterday at the shack. Look if you’re not busy tonight, I thought ya might like a tour of the town. I’ve lived here thirty-one years, y’know.”

“A personal tour from Mr. Mystery himself? I couldn’t pass that up.” She teased him, “Will I get to see Bigfoot?”

Stan chuckled, “Nah that stuff's all for the tourists – if you’re gonna live here you need the real tour. Thought I’d take ya to the diner, we could drive around, and maybe go out to the lake.”

“Stan, this sounds more like a date than a tour to me.”

“Ah, ya got me! Guilty as charged.”

Kathy laughed, “Alright, Stan, I’ll see you tonight.”

What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapter 2

This is the second installment of this series - read chapter 1 here :)

Chapter 3 and 4 out now

As always, this entire series is 18+ for mild sexual content. This chapter has some angst

Minors do not interact

Enjoy! Press 'keep reading'

“Get dressed, Poindexter, I’m buyin’ us breakfast.” Stan peered into Ford’s room as he fastened his belt. “Hurry, we’ll be late.”

“Late for breakfast?” Ford pulled on his red turtleneck. “They serve it all day, Stan – I promise they’re not gonna run out.”

“We’re meetin’ Kathy there, genius.”

Stanford’s face lit up. “Oh, so I finally get to meet the woman you’ve been sneaking off with every night?”

“Only if you can be in the car in the next five minutes.”

_____

Kathy found the conversation pleasant, and the pancakes even more so. They were nearly done with their meal when Ford commented, “Kathy, Stan tells me you taught school for 25 years?” He poured himself a second cup of coffee and began to stir in a little cream as Kathy replied in the affirmative. Ford continued with a chuckle, “Not exactly the type I would have paired Stanley with.”

Stan interrupted, “Yeah, ya probably couldn’t tell, but I wasn’t as big into school as Poindexter over here.” Ford nodded in agreement before taking a large swig of coffee.

Kathy patted Stan’s knee, “Oh, I could tell, Stan. You have a few learning disabilities.” Ford nearly spit out his drink trying to choke back a laugh.

Stan sighed, “It’s a good thing I like you, y’know.” He threw his arm behind her and let it rest on the back of the booth. “Let’s just hope the kids like ya as much as I do.”

“What time does the bus arrive?” Kathy inquired.

Ford answered, “In just a few hours. Are you coming with us to pick them up?”

“No, I’ve got some work to do today, and we decided it would be better to give them a few days to get settled back in first.”

“Mmhmm,” Stan agreed, “and once the motel closes on Monday, I thought we could all do minigolf or somethin’.”

“Oh!” Kathy looked at her watch, “Speaking of that, I’ve got to run! Thanks for breakfast. Great to meet you, Stanford.” She shook Ford’s hand, planted a kiss on Stan’s cheek, and left the twins alone in the booth. 

They picked at their food in silence for a moment.

“Stan?” Ford began.

“Hmm?”

“How much have you told her?”

Stan knew this conversation was coming – the question had hung in the air for all of breakfast. He set his utensils down and looked at Ford. “She knows about my criminal record, if that’s what you mean, and that I went by your name for a while.”

“Come on, Stan, you know what I’m talking about. The portal? Last summer? How much does she know?”

Stan slapped a handful of cash on the table and rose to his feet. “She knows nothing, Sixer, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.” He headed out the door and towards the car. Ford hurriedly followed and managed to get in his way. Stan tried to push past, but Ford grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Look, if you actually like this woman you have to tell her eventually. People are more accepting of the supernatural these days than you’d think.”

“Tell her what?” Stan shoved his brother off of his arms. “That I pushed you into a portal, took three decades to bring you back, nearly ended the world, and almost got the kids killed? She aint gonna leave over a few ghosts – she’ll leave over my mistakes.” 

“Stan… is that what you think happened?” Ford reached for his brother’s hand. “Stanley, you saved all of us. You saved me twice. Maybe your memory didn’t recover as well as I thought.”

Stan yanked his hand away. “My memory is just fine. I know you think I’m a hero, but I’m not sure she’ll see it that way.”

Ford conceded, stepping out Stan’s way as he stormed past to the car. They drove in silence for a few minutes, Stan’s knuckles white from gripping the wheel.

Finally, Ford cleared his throat. “Stanley, let the kids tell her.” Stan just side-eyed him as he continued, “If anyone can convince her you’re a hero, it’s them. And if she still doesn’t think so after that, she isn’t worth your time.”

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?”

What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapters 5 and 6

Dropping 2 chapters again today because they're short ones.

As always, the entire series is 18+ for mild sexual content. Chapter 5 mentions alcohol.

New? Start here at Chapter 1

Read Chapter 7 next

Enjoy :) click 'keep reading'

18+ [Minor do not interact]

Chapter 5

“Hey, Ford!” Stan’s voice was urgent but low, almost a whisper. “Stanford!” 

Ford peeked around the corner and raised his eyebrows at the scene in front of him. It wasn’t unusual to find Stan in front of the TV late at night on the way up from the lab, but he usually didn’t have a woman on his lap. She was sprawled out across him, legs over the arm of his large chair, with her head buried in his shoulder. A few open wine bottles reflected the dim light of the TV. 

“She had a few too many. Help me get her up, would ya?” With a little effort, Ford got Kathy to her feet and held her steady in an almost-hug; she blinked awake. Stan arose and stretched for the first time in hours.

“Better take care of these before the kids wake up.” With a few clinks of glass, Stan was out of the room and Kathy stirred. She clumsily felt for the twin’s shoulders and settled into his grasp. “I love you, Stanley,” is what came out as she attempted to plant a kiss. Ford turned his head and she managed to graze his cheek.

“Woah, woah, hey-” Stan appeared, much to Ford’s relief, and pushed him to the side as he scooped her up. “I love ya too, pumpkin.”

Ford was red from embarrassment. “Stanley, I promise it wasn’t– I mean, I just didn’t want her to fall.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Stan chuckled. “You should be flattered to look as good as me.”

Ford laughed, “Only in indirect lighting, it seems.”

“What’s so funny?” Kathy mumbled.

“Nothin’ sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.”

[Author's note: it was my intention that nothing sexual happened anytime while she was drunk, but the time skips don't make that super clear. Consent is important, kids!]

Chapter 6

“Whatcha reading, Dipper?”

“Ah!” Dipper jumped at the sound of Kathy’s voice. “Nothing! Homework!” He quickly closed the red and gold journal in front of him and tucked it away in his vest. “I mean… summer reading.” He laughed awkwardly. “I love reading. Not about weird stuff, just normal… normal stuff. Not the supernatural.” He continued to laugh, and it went on just a few seconds too long. 

“Good for you, Dipper.” Kathy chalked it up to the normal odd behavior of teen boys. 

“Great Uncle Ford!” Dipper hopped up as Ford entered the room. “Do you need any help in the–” he glanced at Kathy, “basement today?” 

“Sure, Dipper, meet me down there in an hour.” Dipper took the opportunity to leave and Ford turned to Kathy, “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“Yes, sorry, I just woke up and couldn’t find Stan anywhere.” Ford didn’t respond, he seemed lost in thought about something.

“I didn’t realize this place had a basement. What are you working on?”

Ford inhaled sharply and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses with his thumb and forefinger. “Just, tying up some loose ends.” 

Kathy took the hint, “I’ve actually got to get going. Tell Stan I said ‘hi’ if you see him.”

Ford just nodded.

What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapter 7

Another shorter one, but I think it's important. As always, the series is 18+ for mild sexual content, although this chapter is really just some angst.

New to the series? Start at Chapter 1

Read Chapter 8 next!

Enjoy! Press 'keep reading'

18+ [Minors do not interact]

“Stanley, we can’t keep doing this.” Ford’s voice cut through the tranquility of the night. The two brothers sat on the roof, watching the stars – a regular habit they carried over from nights on the boat. 

“I know, I know, you’re gettin’ too old to keep climbing that ladder.” Stan playfully punched his twin in the arm.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Stan. It was fine when we all just got dinner or played minigolf, but if Kathy’s going to be at the house regularly, we can’t keep up this charade.”

“I know I gotta tell her, Sixer, there just hasn’t been a good time.”

“How long are you going to wait? It isn’t going to get any better – you see how the kids are around her, Dipper has nothing to talk about. And I can’t keep dodging the question of what I was doing for thirty years.” 

Stan peered at the ground below. He could feel his face getting hot.

“Stanley, the longer you wait the more suspicious she’ll be. I was there the other night when she said it – she may have been drunk, but she loves you. She won’t for much longer if you keep lying to her.”

Stan got to his feet and towered over Ford. He practically yelled, “And what would you know about love, Stanford? All you ever loved was your precious research.”

Ford returned the gesture, and they were face-to-face once more. He pointed at the Dipper and Mabel’s window. “I know I love those kids, Stan, and I’m not going to make them hide the truth all summer after a year of hiding it from their parents. If you don’t get this situation handled soon, I will.” He made his way toward the ladder, before turning around.

“Stanley?”

“What now? Still not done yellin’ at me?” Stanley clenched his fists. “I’ll do it, Stanford. Just go.”

“Stan, I love you.”

Stan’s fists relaxed and he found himself looking at his feet.

Ford continued, “I just want you to be happy.”

Stan made his way back to the edge of the roof and sat down. He gestured for Ford to follow, and his brother obliged. 

After a few moments, Stan said quietly, “I love ya too. And you’re right y’know, I gotta tell her the truth." He laughed, trying to hide the anxiety welling up inside him. "I think Mabel might explode if she goes another day without pullin’ out that scrapbook.”

What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapter 9

Pretty proud of this one, idk

Start at Chapter 1 here and read Chapter 10 next

As always, this series is 18+ for mind sexual content - this chapter has a bit of fluff :)

Enjoy! You know the drill by now

18+ [Minors do not interact]

“Well Stan, I’ll admit I was wrong. This old tent should fit us all comfortably.” Ford and the kids took a few steps back to admire their work. 

Stan glanced up to see the newly erected canvas structure, and the sun getting low in the sky behind it. “Told ya so,” he said, before returning to the pile of wood and kindling in front of him. Kathy added the last camping chair to the circle around it.

“Grunkle Stan, is it almost time?” Mabel was practically bouncing up and down.

“Just one more thing.” Stan headed for the trunk of the car and grabbed two items. “Dip, you wanna do the honors?” He held one of them out to Dipper - a propane torch with a long neck, the one Soos often used to burn weeds outside the shack.

“No fair! I want to help!” Mabel complained. In response, Stan gave her the other item, a bottle of lighter fluid. “Cool!” She poured it onto the wood with a grin.

Dipper took the torch excitedly and approached the fire pit. “Stand back!” With a soft woosh, the flames ascended into the pink sky. Kathy was surprised at how much Stan and Ford trusted these children with such tools, but they did seem resourceful for thirteen-year-olds. 

“Sit down everyone,” Stan patted the canvas chair next to him, “Kathy, we have a story to tell you.”

Mabel dragged a duffel bag across the ground until it sat between her and Dipper’s chairs. Once unzipped, it revealed several books, some sock puppets, and strangely enough, a grappling hook. Expecting a cute story from Mabel’s imagination, Kathy smiled in anticipation and looked at Stan. His expression was gravely serious.

Dipper stood and took a deep breath, holding a thick stack of index cards. “Kathy, this is the story of what happened last summer. It’s a story about all of us, but mostly about Grunkle Stan - the man that saved the entire world.” He paused and looked at Kathy, waiting for her reaction.

Kathy laughed, “Is this a true story?” She looked around, expecting anything other than the solemn faces that peered back. 

Stan grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “I swear on my life, sweetheart.”

Ford cleared his throat, “Kathy, do you believe in the supernatural?”

She nodded hesitantly, and looked back to Dipper.

“See when we first came to Gravity Falls, it was just Grunkle Stan - we didn’t even know Great Uncle Ford existed…” The story continued and the sky became darker. Dipper did most of the talking, with several pauses for visual demonstrations from Mabel and occasional clarifications and flashback sequences from Stan and Ford. A few times the fire had to be rekindled, and blankets and snacks fetched from the tent. It seemed that everyone learned something new that night…

… “Ya filled my house with clones, kid? Some observant grunkle I am.” 

… “So Grunkle Stan, you did have money to get a hotel when Gideon took the shack, you just had to find an excuse to send us home so you could sneak back to the portal? I knew it!”

… “Wait, Dipper, you were cognizant while Bill was in your body? I always seemed to black out and forget what happened. Incredible.”

By the time midnight rolled around, Kathy had been handed several journals and had learned more about Stan’s life than she had after over a dozen dates with him. 

“Need a break, sweety?”

“No Stan, it’s okay. What happened, were you able to secure the rift?”

Mabel chimed in, “Not exactly…”

The hours continued to creep by, and as the sun rose over the campsite, the fire was still burning, and Kathy’s eyes were filled with tears. It seemed that everyone else was crying, too. The final speech was given by Stanford, who, through crooked glasses and a choked up voice, thanked his brother once again for everything and recounted a few highlights from their sailing adventures. He pulled Stanley into a hug, along with the kids. After a moment, Ford dismissed the exhausted Dipper and Mabel to the tent, and approached Kathy. “I know you have questions, but we can deal with that later. You two should take a walk.” And he headed for the tent himself. 

Kathy and Stan found themselves in the car. Neither of them were too sure what to say. She placed a hand on his cheek and his hand followed to rest over hers. 

“Stanley, you’re shaking.”

“I’m just tired, doll.” He let his face relax into her touch. “You alright, after all that?”

“It was a lot to take in, but I’m so glad you told me. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” She gently kissed him on the forehead and he gave a weak smile in response. She asked, “Could I see it?”

“See what?”

“The burn.”

“Oh,” Stan started working on the buttons of his shirt, “yeah, of course.” She helped him pull one arm out and get it around his back in the tight quarters of the car. Next came the white undershirt, which he pulled off as he turned to face the driver’s side window so she could see his back.

She gently traced the bluish-purple patterns of scar tissue with her fingertips. “Does it hurt?”

“Nah, not for a long time. First few weeks hurt like hell, though.”

“I bet.” 

Stan chuckled, “It gets to itchin’ pretty bad sometimes.”

“Yeah? I can help with that.”

Stan let out a soft groan as Kathy started to scratch his back. His torso relaxed and he let the side of his head rest against the seat of the car. He lifted his head again a few minutes later when she yawned.

“C’mon, we’re both tired.” Stan pulled his undershirt back on. “Let’s go to the tent.”

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.”

What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapter 11

This is the last chapter I have written for now - I'll probably keep writing stuff for this fic but it will be more spraced out and hey, if not, I'm pretty happy with this as an ending

As always, the whole series is 18+ for mild sexual content, but this is just a little angst

Find the beginning here: Chapter 1

Enjoy!

18+ [minors do not interact]

“Thanks again for closing up for me, dudes.”

“Yeah yeah, Soos, go home before I change my mind.” Stan began counting the cash in the register. Kathy picked up a broom, and Soos was out the door. 

“How’s business at the motel? Are you makin’ enough just bein’ open on the weekends?”

“Oh yeah, it’s been great. We’re always full.”

He continued to flick through the cash, "And you’re putin’ money away for the off season, right?”

“As much as I can. I’ve heard winters here can be pretty slow.”

Stan chuckled, “Not just slow – dead. I’m sure Greasy’s does fine with the locals, but for places like ours, it’s not even worth payin’ to keep the lights on.”

Kathy paused her sweeping, “Stanley, can I ask you something?”

“Anything, toots.”

“What did you do all those winters up here by yourself, if the shack was closed?”

Stan shrugged, “Well I had the portal to work on, of course. Had to learn all that math stuff, and needed all the time I could get. Still get nightmares about doin’ derivatives.” He chuckled, but Kathy stayed quiet. She knew better than to interrupt Stan when he talked about this – it didn’t happen very often. When the time came around to let her in on the family’s past, Dipper and Ford had done most of the talking. 

Stan continued, “If the snow wasn’t too bad I’d go out to get firewood and look for the other journals. Always told myself I should get away for a few weeks and go somewhere warm. Went to Vegas a few times but it never lasted, guess I felt guilty for leaving Ford behind too long. Felt weird spending all that money too. Livin’ in your car for a couple years will do that – you just never feel like you have enough.” He continued to focus on the money in front of him. She wondered if he could really count and talk at the same time, or if he was just keeping his hands busy. “I guess the only time that was really hard was the… y’know, anniversary.” Stan coughed, “And the holidays. ‘Course I was already used to spendin’ them alone, even before comin’ to–” 

The broom slipped from Kathy's grasp and clattered to the floor. She scrambled to pick it up, hoping Stan wouldn’t notice the tears starting to form in her eyes – but to no avail. He dropped the money half-hazardly and hurried over to her.

“Hey, why’re you cryin’?” He gently lifted her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. With the other hand, he pulled the broom away and let it fall back to the floor. 

He pulled her into a hug. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, pumpkin. It’s all okay now,” he reassured her. But at the same time, he squeezed her tighter, like she might run away if he let go. “I’m okay now, don’t cry.”

They held each other for a long, quiet moment. Finally, Stan loosened his grasp around her and wiped a few tears from her cheek. 

“Hey, did I ever tell you about where Ford ‘n I docked on Christmas?” 

Kathy shook her head with a few sniffles and they both resumed their tasks.

Stan made a slow, dramatic sweep of his hands overhead, “Picture it: the beautiful little seaside town of Sitka, Alaska, white with snow…”

Author's note: I know Stan was raised Jewish, so I tried to be vague and just say "the holidays" and "on Christmas" instead of "for Christmas." but y'know...