#scest

[cravingpepsimax]

Shermie has the biggest dick out of the three my source is it would be hot

OUGHHH YOU’RE RIGHT … who would have th smallest one doe 👀

[cravingpepsimax]

Shermie was never the one going places, it was just assumed he would take over the shop when Filbrick retired because Ford was going to go off and do big things and Stan was a shlub. But Shermie spent one year after he graduated staying in Jersey, running the shop and waiting for when Ford bothered coming home to visit, and called Stanley up and said he needed to get the hell out of Jersey. So Stanley drove up, knocked over the cans again, picked up Shermie and took him to Cali where Shermie got a normal reasonable job that got them an apartment when Stanley's "business venture" fell through. But Stanley's Stanley so he'll either find a new way to pay Shermie back for his half of the rent or become a full housewife or both (yes I'm reading too much into that Jimmy Snakes doodle) so he Tries to make it toxic with his own need to not be seen as a burden like 'You want your obligatory morning blowjob with or without the dentures' except Shermie is having none of that he wants a reasonable 15-20 minutes of missionary where they both say I love you at the end and it does weird things to Stanley's brain

YESSS i am OBSESSED w the idea of stan trying to self-sabotage and shermie just going “nuh-uh”

i do think that as stan’s brain gets rewired so does shermie’s. leading to shermie doing such Scandalous things like giving stan hickeys and — when the time is right — getting in a threesome. who knows — maybe stan gets shermie to double down on the loving aspect and he starts saying he’s *gulp* a good boy…

[cravingpepsimax]

Shermie isn't in a toxic codependant incest polycule with his triplets? 🥺

OH TO CLARIFY HE ABSOLUTELY IS i think we were just spitting shermie ideas djsnns. or like. other options

but yea . he 1000% is. i don’t even think it’d be that toxic actually at least not for shermie. most of his stress is from mediating these idiots

RELATED: i imagine shermie didn’t have many friends bc of how… boring he comes across as. he’s so boring it loops back to being weird. also he’s 100% the guy going “u forgot 2 give us homework” in class. so stan n ford also end up being all he rlly has growing up too — not because anyone really hates him but bc no one rlly likes him he is just There

[cravingpepsimax]

shermie/stan/ford au where theyre triplets . think abt it

[fordlee]

Stan, Shermie, Ford blunt rotation except it's Stan and Ford passing the blunt between each other while taking turns shotgunning Shermie.

[fordlee]

Stan and Ford talking about Shermie:

[fordlee]

NEED Shermie to get double-teamed by his big brothers <3

[fordlee]

Being around his brothers made Sherman feel a bit nervous. Just a bit. He tried hard not to let it show, of course, but he couldn’t help but fear he was more transparent than he’d like to be. He liked to think no one could really blame him. Filbrick had spent Sherman’s entire childhood reinforcing the idea that Stanley was the child that had ruined the future of their family. It had warped Sherman's impression of him for quite some time. Later, Filbrick turned his slanderous words onto Stanford, as well, furious with his eldest son for never getting their family rich, even with all of his intelligence and promise. For a long time, Sherman felt obligated to be betrayed, to hate them. He had believed his father more than Sherman would dare to admit, not even thinking to accompany their mother to Stanley’s funeral. Looking back now, it broke Sherman's heart. He could only imagine what it had done to Stanley.

He'd only reached out decades later, long after he had brought shame to the family name himself, getting his high school sweetheart pregnant while still in high school. When he finally had the nerves to reach out to what he thought was his remaining older brother, “Stanford” was nothing like what his parents described. Sherman never loved him any less, but he could tell Stan was holding him at arm’s length. Understandably so, considering, well, everything.

At the time, though, it frustrated Sherman - especially when he had tried asking “Stanford” about their so-called deceased brother. Sherman had only ever known Stanley through secondhand, biased sources. He might as well hear it from the guy who’d known Stanley better than anyone. But, the answers he’d gotten were evasive and noncommittal. At the time, he imagined his brother was still bitter about what had happened so many decades ago. Now, though, Sherman wondered: Was it because he didn’t know what Ford would have said? Was he afraid of saying something positive about himself? Was it that, despite all the people he’s swindled and lied to, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to Sherman like that?

It wasn’t until years later, after the Summer his grandkids went to visit, that his older brothers - yes, older brothers, plural - let him in on what was going on. And, being honest, Shermie was pissed. He was so mad that Stanley didn't tell him the truth, had left him in the dark, when he could’ve helped! The knucklehead… Well, maybe he wouldn’t have been the best help. Shermie knew he didn’t exactly have the brains to work out something like a portal to another world. Not to mention their already fraught relationship. Still, he liked to believe he would have helped Stanley get their brother back, even if only to offer emotional support.

But, the anger quickly faded and morphed into this overjoyed, awestruck feeling around his older brothers. Stanford was an universe-hopping outlaw with 12 PhDs and Stanley, despite everything their father said, had the heart, smarts, and determination to learn quantum physics and engineering and all kinds of things Shermie couldn’t understand in order to rebuild a portal to bring their brother home and killed a dream demon from another dimension to save their family and their universe. And for some reason that Shermie couldn't understand, neither of them seemed resentful or mad at him. Not even Stanley. They welcomed him in with open arms. And they were incredible! They were incredible and wonderful and intelligent and amazing, and Shermie was so, so ready for the chance to finally be brothers with them, for them to finally go from related strangers to family.

But, then again, they were them, and Shermie was, well, Shermie. He had a stable job, had been divorced for some time now and lived comfortably by himself, visited his son's family for dinner on weekdays and made time just for his grandkids on the weekends. Shermie Pines considered himself as normal and mild-mannered as they come. Compared to his brothers, he felt… Boring. He couldn't believe Ford and Lee still took such an interest in him. Not that he wasn't grateful, of course, but Shermie felt he didn’t deserve it. Did he deserve the chance to be close with them? Did he deserve to be out on the open sea with them? Did he even deserve to set foot on the Stan O’ War II? And what if he screwed this all up?

A shoulder bumped against Sherman, jolting him to the present. His eyes darted about, eventually falling on the cooler at their feet. He’d been lost in thought for a majority of the afternoon as he and Stan fished - as such, Stanley had claimed the majority of their catches. It likely would have happened regardless; Sherman was never the best fisherman. His eyes roamed from the cooler and up his brother’s body, settling on Stan’s face. It could’ve just been the waves rocking the boat that caused Stanley to bump into him, but the smirk on his big brother’s face told him otherwise.

“C'mon, Sherm, how about a kiss for your big brother?” Stanley asked, looking back at Shermie with a grin.

Shermie blinked. He furrowed his brows, an amused smile on his lips. “A kiss?” he repeated.

“I caught dinner, didn't I?” Stan gestured down to the cooler beside him, where the dispatched fish had been laid out to cool amongst the ice.

Shermie breathed out a laugh, crossing his arms. “I'm not impressed,” he lied.

“You're impressed,” Stan insisted. He leaned closer to his younger brother, tilting his head so as to give Shermie better access. Stan poked at his own cheek with a finger. “C'mon, just a little cheek kiss ‘cause I did such a good job.”

Sherman rolled his eyes, putting on a show of being inconvenienced. In reality, he was more than happy to show Stanley some love. Goodness knows he really needed it. He was tired of being a stranger in his brothers’ worlds. He was tired of what his father had told him about his brothers holding him back and keeping him too scared to get close.

Sherman leaned forward, pursing his lips and aiming for Stan's cheek.

“Laying it on a little thick, are we, Stanley?” Ford's voice suddenly piped up.

Everything seemed to slow down for Shermie. He registered Stan turning to look in the direction Ford's voice had come from, but Sherman couldn't change course. His lips met Stanley's in a soft kiss. Stan’s lips were so much softer than he would have guessed - not that he had, of course. Shermie felt his face flush and his stomach do something weird, something he hadn't felt since his ex-wife. God, what was he, a schoolboy with a crush?

Maybe it was from the surprise or the absurdity of the situation, but both of them stayed like that, lips pressed together, for a couple seconds longer than they really should have. And when Shermie had the sense to step back, he swore he's seeing things because there's no way Stanley leaned forward just a touch, as if chasing after the kiss.

Praying that his face didn't look nearly as red as it felt, Sherman turned to address Stanford. The eldest of the three stood with his back to the door that led to the stairway below deck.

“It isn't what it looks like,” Shermie insisted.

Ford shrugged his shoulders. “Didn't look like anything to me. Just a display of brotherly love.”

“Yeah,” One of Stanley's large hands clasped Sherman's shoulder. “Me and Sixer do it all the time.”

“Oh.”

Right. Right, of course. Of course it was normal, Shermie was just overthinking things and making it weird. And of course he’d be the one to read something deeper into something clearly normal. Why would he jump to the conclusions that what they were doing was weird, that others would think it weird? It wasn’t weird. But, what was weird was how he kept re-imagining how it felt to kiss Stanley, wondering absentmindedly if Ford's lips were just as soft. He was so thankful his brothers hadn't made or obtained some sort of mind-reading contraption, he could only imagine how weirded out they'd be by him, if only they knew. Maybe their father had gotten it more wrong than he originally thought. Maybe his brothers were actually the normal ones out of the three of them, and Shermie was the secret freak. The twins would regret ever inviting him onto the Stan O’ War II, surely.

How long had Ford been standing there, anyway?

“I caught dinner!” Stan announced suddenly, startling Sherman from his thoughts once more.

Stan grabbed a dead fish from their cooler, waving it around for Ford to see. Shermie had to duck away from getting slapped with a face full of fish.

“I helped!” Shermie laughed.

“Standin’ there and lookin’ pretty ain’t helpin’.”

“The only reason you caught so many is because of me. I’m you guyses’ good luck charm.”

Stan snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” he quickly discarded the fish back into the cooler before reaching out with the same hand and ruffling it through Sherman’s graying hair.

“Don’t touch me with your fish-hand! Ford, help!”

“Well, it’s about time you knuckleheads caught something,” Ford’s voice was dismissive, but his smile betrayed him. “Now, are you gonna help me cook the darn things or what?”

“We catch, you cook. That’s the deal, Pointdexter!” Stan said, disentangling his fingers from Shermie’s hair. He hefted the cooler into his arms, and Shermie suddenly noticed how strong his brother was.

“Maybe when it’s just us, but two of you means that less energy was expended doing a single task together than you would doing so alone.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Stan mocked, rolling his eyes as he lugged the cooler across the deck. “Just get Shermie to help you.”

“I thought you loved me,” Shermie’s face formed into an exaggerated pout.

Stan craned his neck to send a wink back Shermie’s way. As Stan brushed past Ford, Shermie could swear he saw his brother’s briefly locked eyes, a look passing between the two of them. And then, as if he had only been seeing things, Stan lumbered down the stairs without another word or glance behind him. Shermie’s eyes then moved to lock onto Ford.

“Well, what are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek?” The eldest brother teased.

Sherman would have sworn his eyebrows nearly leaped from his head, surely unable to handle how suddenly hot his face had become. Embarrassed, Sherman quickly crossed the deck to follow Stanley down the stairs. As he brushed by his eldest brother, Ford met his gaze with a good-natured smile. Sherman felt Ford follow him close behind, a six-fingered hand pressing against his lower back, gently guiding him down below.