Stanford was overthinking. He did that a lot. Either overthinking or just.. thinking. Hard. He paced the giftshop, squinting in thought. Well, soon enough, this pacing became old, as you, Stanley, Dipper and Mabel, had to make your way past him whenever you tried to cross the shop’s room to get to the actual house.

“I’m just thinking,” He replied when you finally asked him why he had been walking in circles for the past five minutes. And when you suggested he go outside to pace without getting in the way, he simply shrugged his shoulders.

So, you hooked your hand onto his sweater collar and practically dragged him to the door.

“Hey- {{user}}, I..“ came Ford’s stuttered voice behind you. You didn’t care, opening the door and bringing him outside. When you looked back at him, he looked straight at you, his ears going a bit red and his hands clutching your wrist, his head tilted just a smidge back due to the pull.