From Sweethearts to Soulmates [A Stanford Pines x Reader]

Chapter 4

"Nineteen Sixty-Something, Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. I lived with my Ma and Pa in the Lead Paint District in the family Pawn Shop." My mind flashed back to the shop, house on top, where we'd hang out nearly every day as teenagers after school. My entire life, the twins were my best (and only) friends.

"Dad was a strict man. Tough as a cinder block and not easily impressed." I laughed quietly, imagining old Mr Pines in his armchair reading a newspaper. It was funny now, but he used to scare me half to death when I was little, he said I didn't have a personality because I was so quiet around him. His words in my mind rung clear as day, "I'm not impressed." Words I used to hear all the time when I hung out with the twins. Whether it was directed at me or Stanley was always tough to discern, but we always knew it was never Stanford.

"Ma was a pathological liar, which served her well as a phone psychic." I remember the warm upstairs, Mrs Pines perched on the windowsill talking to a client. "That'll be 99 cents an hour... No, you're overpriced!" There was a click, "Yea, I predicted you were going to hang up." She turned to me, irritated face softening. "The boys are in their bedroom, you go on through, sweetie." I nodded, walking (Mr Pines didn't tolerate running in his house) through the house to reach the twins.

"Then there was my nerdy brother Stanford. As if his abnormally high IQ wasn't enough, he also had a rare birth defect: Six fingers on each hand." His hands always fascinated me, it's what made him unique. For the first few months, I was infatuated with his hands, examining then at every chance I could. Drew them more than a few times, too.

"Which might have explained his obsession with sci-fi mystery weirdness." I thought about his old notebooks, all the sketches and entries he had, they were basically the first drafts for his journals. He was smart, artistic, sweet, really just the whole package.

"As for me, I had what mom liked to call "personality". But as different as we were, we were the perfect team. At least that's what we thought until we met Y/n. If Ford was the brains and I was the brawn, she was the glue that held us all together. She was a loner, just like us, and a nerd, just like Ford." I laughed loudly at this. He wasn't wrong, although I was more fantasy than sci-fi.

"We met after we found the good old Stan O' War..."

I slid down to the floor, crossing my legs, and placing my head in my hand, a dreamy smile on my face. They had told me this part, of their adventures in the cave. When they found that boat.

"Woah, a shipwrecked sailboat, possibly haunted by pirate ghosts!" Ford, forever the paranormal investigator.

"This is the greatest thing I've ever seen!" Stan exclaimed. "And I once saw a dead rat floating in a bucket!"

The smallest things would delight him when we were young, it was incredible to watch. He would start talking about something and as he got more passionate his eyes would spark, his hands gesturing to anything and everything. It's a habit he never quiet grew out of.

"Eww, what's wrong with you!" Ford laughed, punching Stan's arm gently.

"You know what's missing?" Stan asked.

"Flags." Ford replied, before a collective lightbulb light up between their heads. Twin telepathy, it's a useful thing.

Stan stopped, looking down to where I was sitting. "You wanna tell this part, Y/n?" I chuckled and nodded, settling back against the wall. When I was finally comfortable, I began to speak.

That's when I saw them for the first time. They were running down the beach, pulling a boat and yelling "Kings of New Jersey! Kings of New Jersey! Kings of New Jersey!" I was reading a book on the sand, leaning against a rock in the blazing sun when I spotted them, sunburned badly but delight dancing in their eyes.