askthestans

[askthestans]

Hey, there's a new Book of Bill coming out which sheds light on his bizarre origins, his sinister effects on human history, the Pines family’s most embarrassing secrets, and the key to overthrowing the world (laid out in a handy step-by-step guide). What do yall think of such a (cursed) book coming out?

Stanley: Oh, wow, uh... ya know, I thought I left hooked that guy into oblivion? How the hell is he able to write a book? We erased him from my mind, so... is this like a 'found' book from before he bit the dust, or...? *He starts to sweat a bit nervously. Well, more than he normally sweats.* 'Cause if it's not, then... that has some... ah... interestin' implications...

*Stan starts to sweat even more and looks around the Shack from where he's sitting in his plaid yellow chair, as if to check if he's alone. Dipper and Mabel can be heard in the kitchen laughing about something, and Ford is nowhere to be seen.*

*Whispering, talking as fast as he can.* Actually, can you keep a secret, ask blog readers? There's somethin' I gotta tell ya that I can't tell anyone else here 'cause I don't wanna scare my family, and I don't have much time to say it before-

*He shakes his head and nervously taps his fingers together, glancing around the living room.*

Look, I've been havin' these weird ass dreams lately. Then I sometimes wake up in a completely different place than I sacked out and-

*Stan suddenly stops and looks at the ground for a while with a thousand-yard, frightened stare, as if he's completely somewhere else. Then he looks back up, right into the reader's eye.*

*Smiling his good old conman grin.* Ya know what? Forget it! I'm right as rain! Just some dumb dreams, is all. So Bill has a dusty old book comin' out, you say? You should definitely buy it! Buy hundreds of copies and give one to everyone you know! At the very least, it'll be funny watchin' Sixer get outsold by Bill and mope about it. He wishes his dumb journals could get as much attention!

*His stare gets more intense as he leans in closer, so close that only one of his eyes can be seen.*

And make sure you keep your copy with ya at all times! Specifically, make sure the eye is always facin' you. For no reason in particular. I mean, Bill is gone, right? There's no harm in doin' that, right? It'll be like havin' a best friend always watchin' your back!

*Stan sets the laptop down and presses a button, thinking he's ended the reply, but the camera keeps streaming. He sits in his chair, staring blankly with a wide grin at nothing in particular, humming a song that the astute ear might be able to tell is 'We'll Meet Again' by Vera Lynn.*

#stanley pines #askthestans #gravity falls #*evil laughter* #the book of bill

[askthestans]

Ford, are you aware your brother has 10 guns hidden around the shack?

Stanley: Shh, don't let Poindexter overhear ya! He's gonna kill me if he finds out-

Stanford: *Walking into the room, preoccupied with a demonic owl chick of some sort that's currently sleeping in his hair.* Ah, Stan, I see you're answering another ask from our blog. What's this one about?

Stanley: N-nothin'! *Switches to another internet tab quick.* Nothin' at all, don't worry about it, it's a question for me. Totally boring.

Stanford: Oh, really? *Raises brow.* Then why did the question start with 'Ford'? You know, my name?

Stanley: Uh...

*Stan glances around and starts to sweat bullets. How best to distract Ford? Then Stan grins. He knows just the trick.*

Stanley: Ya know... a more important question to ask, is... is the Patterson-Gimlin film legit?

Stanford: *A very intense, serious expression carves through his face. It's the face of a man with a strong opinion and just the right amount of ire to defend it, perhaps fueled by years of arguments over this very same exact question; a look akin to what someone on Twitter pulls right before they decide compassion and humanity is overrated, and being right is more important as they begin to rage-smash their keyboard.* Stan, I'm glad you asked. Because I think you're smart enough - and spent enough years as a conman - to know the difference between something real and something faked. The Patterson film is real, and I, Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines, the world's greatest paranormal scientist and cryptozoologist, will die on this hill.

Stanley: Yes, exactly! *Stan looks relieved that the distraction worked.* Of course I agree. I mean, why wouldn't I? You tell 'em, Ford! Tell the world how legit the Patterson film is. Preferably in a different room than this one with your, uh... *Stan looks at the demonic owl chick sleeping in Ford's hair.* Whatever that is.

Stanford: *Smugly petting said demonic owl chick.* Hm, a better idea would be to utilize our ask blog to educate the populace on supernatural concepts such as this. I always wanted a platform to extend my knowledge to the world. I mean, teaching math to a whale was impressive enough, but imagine the paranormal knowledge I could spread with the power of the internet! *He chuckles.* Bill Nye and Neil DeGrasse Tyson better watch out, because a new popular scientist in media is in town. Stan, for the sake of knowledge, I'm going to need you to let me borrow our blog laptop for the afternoon.

Stanley: *Sweating bullets again.* W-what!? Not right now, Ford! You can have it later when I'm done with this one question. Just... gimme a little bit longer-

Stanford: Science cannot wait, Stanley. Hand it over.

Stanley: Alright, fine! Just lemme type somethin' quick and- h-hey!

Stanford: *Ford takes the laptop away from Stan and starts walking off with it.* Great, you already have the ask blog up. Time to...

*Ford sees the question about the ten guns in the Shack. He pauses.*

Stanley: Ford! Ford, I can explain... just let me... just hand the laptop back over and we can forget-

Stanford: *His voice cold.* Ten guns, Stan? Ten of them?

Stanley: It's... it's not what you think!

Stanford: Stan, you do know Dipper and Mabel live here in the summers, right? And you're telling me that you have ten guns around the Shack?

Stanley: Ford, just... *His expression turns defiant and mad.* Yeah, you know what? I've got ten guns! What of it!? Go ahead and judge me, Poindexter! You've always been good at that, haven't ya!?

Stanford: *Eyes narrowing.* Oh, I'm judging you, all right. Stan, I'm sorry, but I have no choice other than to host an emergency family meeting. We need to discuss this with Dipper and Mabel immediately. They must know about this. And then we can rectify this dangerous matter.

Stanley: Ford, really, it's fine, we don't need-

Stanford: *His voice ringing through the whole Shack.* Family meeting! Family meeting!

Three hours later...

*Stan, Ford, Dipper, Mabel are in the living room of the Shack at the dining table, where they usually host their family meetings. Stan looks more pissed than he has all day, Dipper looks nervous and confused, Mabel looks excited, and Ford is standing up by a chalkboard on wheels, multiple rules written on it, and he looks quite pleased.*

Stanford: Now, one final time, let's repeat the Pines family gun rules before this meeting comes to an end.

Stanley: Sweet Moses, Ford, isn't this overkill?

Mabel: Don't listen to Grunkle Stan! I am 1000% on board with all of these rules. *She pets the demonic owl chick that was sleeping in Ford's hair earlier and gives it a cheese flavored chip to eat.* Nice job, Grunkle Ford!

Dipper: I think Grunkle Stan has a point, though. Grunkle Ford, no offense, but-

Stanford: No buts! Now, repeat the rules, everyone!

Dipper, Mabel, and Stanley: *Stan and Dipper looking both annoyed, and Mabel looking very amused, they repeat the rules aloud in unison.*

Rule one, whenever a cryptid, government agent, evil being, or any kind of potential enemy of the Pines family comes to the door, carry a gun.

Rule two, everyone living in the Shack shall keep a gun or similar weapon by their bed at night in the case of a nighttime supernatural emergency.

Rule three, do not be afraid to brandish a gun whenever anyone asks too many questions about Stan's criminal past, Ford's research and/or interdimensional criminal past, or threatens to hurt Dipper or Mabel, either their feelings or physically.

Rule four, all members of the Pines family and their employees must be trained to use at least three different kinds of weapons.

Rule five, there must never be less than thirty guns hidden in the Shack at all times, preferably two per room and three per bedroom. Ten is not enough, no matter what Stan claims.

Rule six, when in doubt, Ford has the last say on anything related to weaponry and defense related matters in the Shack. Or else.

Stanford: Very good. Does anyone have any objections? Wait. *He chuckles deeply.* No, of course you don't, because these rules are forged from hard-earned lessons from the three decades I spent in the Multiverse, and they make perfect logical, ethical sense and are foolproof from accidents. Don't worry, I'll make sure all of these guns are kept in protective, cheap plastic cases.

Dipper: And here I thought living in the Shack every summer was crazy enough already. *He sighs and lets his head drop to the table.* Seriously, this is dumb.

Mabel: Grunkle Ford, why are you so badass and cool!? Grunkle Stan never let us use any guns last summer!

Stanley: Gee, I wonder why? *He sighs, then goes back to typing on Stan and Ford's shared laptop they use to answer blog questions.* Thanks, asker, for askin' about the ten guns I had around the Shack. I'll have you know that all of this is your fault.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #stan pines #ford pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #askthestans #ah good old Ford handing children weapons because he hasn't been in this dimension for a really long time #and his protective cheap plastic cases #what you thought Ford wouldn't insist on more guns? #dude's a paranoid man with many enemies and we all saw how he always carries one on him all the time and one on his dresser in the show #also more of Mabel taking after Ford in a way and Dipper taking after Stan in a way is always fun

[askthestans]

Hey, eh, not sure if you're aware, but there are plenty of Mabel haters who like to blame her for causing Weirdmagaddeon and claiming she doesn't take any responsibility for it. What do you say to those accusations against your grandniece?

Stanley: I, uh... what? Excuse me? People hatin' on Mabel? Is that even a thing? Has the internet seen how much of a rainbow ray of sunshine that gal is? I'm a grumpy old conman, Ford's an egotistical, nerdy old fart, Dipper's a paranoid, insecure dweeb, and... people love us and hate Mabel? Why do they look past our flaws and not hers? Not that she has many, mind you. What, she's a little hyper sometimes and wanted her brother to stay? She's just excited about life and loves her family! How can you fault that?

And Mabel causin' Weirdmageddon? What kind of S&P approved substances have these folks been smokin'? *He turns to the side and calls up the stairs.*

Ford! Get your ass down here! I need you to help me argue with people! *Footsteps thunder down the stairs and Ford comes rushing in.*

Stanford: What is it about? And how many explosions do I need to get my point across? *He starts to dig through his trench coat.*

Stanley: Ford, no. Not again. We don't need to make any more insurance claims today.

Stanford: *His hand freezes in his coat, but he doesn't fully let go of whatever's inside. His expression is stern and serious, like a child defying their parent after being told to get their hand out of the cookie jar.* Stanley: Ford!

Stanford: *Rolls his eyes and sighs, letting his hand fall out of his coat again.* Fine, fine, have it your way. I'll just have to utterly and completely decimate them using my brain. Honestly, the plasma grenades would have been the more humane option. Anyways, what are we arguing about?

Stanley: *Points to the question.*

Stanford: *Leans forward, adjusts glasses, and squints, one brow raising more as he reads. Then he pauses, a furious glare to his brown eyes, and then... he bursts out laughing.*

Stanley: *Also laughing.* I know, I know, right? Okay, internet fans, let's get this straight: we all played a part in Weirdmageddon, I'll be honest. Ford started it all by lettin' Bill wine and dine 'im because of his ego problems.

Stanford: Stan is right. I was a fool to trust Bill. He took advantage of my endless need for validation. And then because of my fight with Stan over stupid unresolved issues, Stan was bitter about saving me during Weirdmageddon and then... I corrected his grammar at the worst moment possible.

Stanley: And then I tackled Sixer here. Also at the worst moment possible.

*More footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs. Stan and Ford turn to see that Dipper and Mabel peeking around the doorway.*

Stanford: Hey, kids. Stan and I were just talking about-

Dipper: Weirdmageddon? *Dipper hangs his head a bit and sighs.* Yeah, we heard. That was all our faults. But-

Mabel: *She smiles.* We all also played a part in fixing it! Wait... *She walks up to the computer and sees the question. Stan and Ford try to hide it quick, but she manages to peek through their arms.* People on the internet think I was the main reason for Weirdmageddon?

But... that's not true... right?

Stanford: *Slowly reaching into his trench coat for the grenades again upon seeing Mabel crying, with the look of someone about to unleash hell.*

Stanley: *Nods seriously to Ford, finally agreeing that maybe the grenades are a good idea as he starts to pull brass knuckles and an insurance business card out of his own pockets, then turns to Mabel with a warm smile, hiding the brass knuckles behind his back.* Pumpkin, of course it's not true! Hey, hey, don't listen to those idiots on the internet that this asker mentioned. Like you and Dips said, we're all at fault for Weirdmageddon, me and Ford the most! We're adults and we screwed up harder than anyone involved. You're just kids. We're nearly 60 and couldn't get along. You were 12 and showed us what we'd forgotten.

Dipper: But seriously... like... *Dipper glances at the screen for a moment, staring directly at the internet with cold, intense, dark-circled eyes, fueled by many sleepless nights of tinfoil hattery.* Wasn't the point of all that to show that family is important, how to trust again after it's been broken, and the value of mending relationships despite past hurts? That what really matters in the end is forgiveness and giving up ego for the sake of love? That people in broken family relationships can both be at fault and flawed?

Stanley: Never mind the whole 'bein' stubborn and unforgiving and unable to admit faults' caused me and Ford decades of suffering that could have been resolved had we just sucked it up and forgiven each other? *Stan glares at the screen.* That Mabel and Dipper avoided because they followed me and Ford's example of what not to let happen?

Stanford: *Also looking at the computer screen now, as if staring directly at the internet, breaking some kind of numbered wall.* Have any of you ever heard of character arcs? The rift metaphor? Was the whole two sets of twins thing not obvious enough parallelism and juxtaposition for you? Was Stan defeating Bill with the power of love for family not enough of a, shall we say, punch to the face of some major symbolism we let you watch the worst moments of our lives for?

Dipper: *Narrowing his eyes further.* I bet they don't even know what a theme is...

*Mabel still is sniffling in the background.*

Stanley: Mabel, sweetie, why don't you go upstairs for a few minutes? Me and Ford and Dips here will finish this ask. Get yourself a cookie and we'll handle this.

*Mabel leaves, still sniffling.*

*Stan turns to the computer with his brass knuckles. Ford adjusts his glasses and pulls out grenades. Dipper pulls out a hefty book from his vest.*

Stanley: Internet, listen here and listen good! You've got ten seconds to apologize to Mabel, or you're gonna get the Pines family special.

Stanford: *Says nothing, but casts an unhinged smile.*

Dipper: *Raises book above his head.* Grr....

#gravity falls #askthestans #stanley pines #stanford pines #ford pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #pines family #seriously though folks they're all at fault for weirdmageddon

[askthestans]

Dear Stanford Pines.

Remember your brother Stanley was running for office as a candidate for mayor? If you were selected as candidate instead, what do you think about what could have happened?

Stanford: I have always despised politics and politicians. They all need truth teeth permanently installed in their mouths, if you ask me. But if I hadn't been so busy trying to fix the rift problem last summer, I would have run for office, as well. Gravity Falls has been a good town to me, and after the chaos my work has brought upon it, it would have been an honor to make up for my mistakes as its most humble servant.

I would have focused on protecting both the people and the supernatural from each other, and the outside world. I would have given greater funding to the schools and library. I would remove every symbol of Bill Cipher around the town.

And most importantly, I’d have had statues erected of both Fiddleford and my brother as town and world heroes, right in the center of main street. Of course, it wouldn’t have said anything about what they did specifically - hence the ‘Never Mind All That’ act - but history should never forget them.

Stanley: I'm still a little upset that my criminal record got me canned as mayor. Yeesh, as if tons of other politicians have never done any crime! Hell, most of 'em still do it while they're in office! So what if I've got mob ties? So what if I've smuggled pugs and spent some nights in the big house? What matters is that my heart is big, and it's always in the right place. Also, an eagle kissed me. Can any other politician say that? No. Didn't think so.

Stanford: Actually, now that I think of it... you probably would have made a great mayor, Stan.

Stanley: What, you really think so?

Stanford: Of course! Remember when we got stuck on that Caribbean island after the Stan-O’-War II had run into rocks?

Stanley: Oh man, the one with that freak who hunted humans, right?

Stanford: Yes. We wouldn’t have survived without you!

Stanley: *His cheeks flush a little pink.* Oh, well... what can I say? All I did was convince the other people gettin’ hunted with us that turnin’ on each other was crap, and we should focus our efforts on the jerk in the mansion that put us there in the first place. I mean, why direct your anger at other people who had nothin’ to do with why you’re stuck somewhere bad? Why not direct it at the schmuck who actually needs his clock cleaned?

Stanford: By the end of the night, you were in that hunter’s chair in his expensive estate, smoking his pipe by his fireplace-

Stanley: Most expensive tobacco I ever had the pleasure of puffin’.

Stanford: And afterwards, you convinced the others to help everyone fix each other’s boats and share supplies so that we could all get off that cursed island.

Stanley: Heh, that was nothin’! ‘Sides, I did his belongings a favor. Man wasn’t classy enough to live in a place that nice with stuff that fancy. I was just sad we had to leave it. I love the Stan-O’-War, don’t get me wrong. But a mansion on a Caribbean island? Sure was cozy.

Stanford: That was ingenious, charismatic, righteous leadership, Stan. See what I mean? A perfect mayor.

Stanley: Aw, well... honestly, the only way I’d ever run for anything ever again is if you were my running mate. Forget bein’ a mayor! Just think if we were president and vice president? I’d do the talkin’, and you’d do the thinkin’. We’d be unstoppable! And we’d legalize mostly everything! Pines and Pines 2024.

Stanford: And give NASA a way bigger budget!

Stanley: And redecorate the White House with sad clown paintings!

Stanford: And don’t forget, we’d-

Stanley: Hah! I know exactly what you’re gonna say, Ford. Hold on, wait.

*They both give each other a knowing look. It’s one of those rare, nearly twin telepathy moments.*

Stanley and Stanford: Declare ourselves the official Kings of New Jersey!

*They both erupt into laughter.*

Stanley: Also, I’d make Congress duke it out in boxing matches on the House and Senate floors. And broadcast it on live TV! Teddy would be so proud!

Stanford: Do you think they’d let me get my official portrait painted with me flipping my two middle fingers?

#gravity falls #askthestans #stanley pines #stanford pines #yo actually I'd vote for the Stans #I think Stan would be president and Ford vice president #Pines and Pines 2024 #stan is the most dangerous game

[askthestans]

To Stan, have you and Ford been to a little Conneticut town named Gravesfield before? I hear a certain old flame of Stan's frequents that place by crossing through a literal door to another dimension. Plus, she has a human friend who's like a mix of Dipper and Mabel too.

Stanford: You're talking about Marilyn, aren't you? Yes, my brother did-

Stanley: No, no... let me tell the story, Sixer. One of my happiest memories.

Stanford: But she-

Stanley: Oh Marilyn... that gal was the hottest, smartest woman this world has ever seen. I'm talkin' smokin', and not just on the outside. Hated authority, loved mischief, and didn't let anything get in her way.

One day, I was near Gravesfield between heists, and heard about this local woman who was a bit of a chaos-maker. I'd been asked to deliver her some really weird crap by one of my, uh... "associates". I'm talkin' random objects like a broken TV, fishing poles, yadda yadda. Honestly, I thought it was a setup, but I was desperate and knew how to defend myself, so... off I went.

Well, I get there near this park I was supposed to meet her by, and lo and behold, I see this lady with gorgeous long hair and a rather sharp tooth. However, I guess she had a knack for upsetting local law enforcement like I do, 'cause I'm about to approach and a cop pulls up and tells her to stay put. Somethin' about swiping muffins or whatever.

I helped her get away. When we got a moment to breathe, she gave me this weirded out look, then saw my gold chain necklace and said somethin' about "shinies". I was already fallin'. Asked her her name. She smiled, told me Marilyn, and that was the beginning of a very short, very sweet little romance.

One day, she asks me what's the shiniest place in the world. Told her the best I'd seen was Vegas. So we go on a road trip there, havin' the time of our lives, though she continually kept collecting these weird objects. I didn’t mind. Not like I had many possessions to fill my car up with, anyway.

Well, one thing led to another, and... we got married in Vegas and... oh, I couldn't have been more proud of her...

*Stan starts tearing up, then sobs a bit.*

Stanford: Need me to finish the story for you, Stan?

Stanley: No, I got it. No, she... she, uh... Marilyn robbed me the day after the ceremony. She robbed me blind. She took my gold chain, my clothes, my wallet, and my car. I hear her leave the hotel room, and next thing I know, I’m runnin’ after her in my underwear and she’s gettin’ away with my keys.

Long story short, I stole a motorcycle, chased after her on the highway in my underwear while being broadcast on public TV and chased by cops for ‘public indecency’, and caught up with her, mostly due to the fact that she didn’t know how to drive. I thanked her for her poor aim with the gun I’d stashed in the glovebox, told her I respected her long con game, and said I’d take her back to Connecticut if she let me have my stuff back.

Marilyn agreed. And then... after spendin’ my last days with her, I had to let that gem go. I let her keep my gold chain, though. She told me she’d pawn it as soon as she got home, and you know what? I couldn’t have respected her more. Wherever she is now, I hope she’s happy. She deserves it.

Stanford: You have very strange tastes in women.

Stanley: *Sighs dreamily.* That Marilyn... what a fox!

#gravity falls #Stanley Pines #stanford pines #oh 'marilyn' and her need for shinies #I haven't seen all of the owl house but I hope I got everything known in its canon correct

[askthestans]

Wanna look up fanart of yourself?

Stanley: Way ahead of ya, kiddo! I've seen lots of great fanart and stories of myself before. Just think, I used to be a conman livin' off lottery tickets and fast food in the Stanleymobile, to having my best friend back and bein' cherished and adored online by tons of fans!

I tell ya, you fans are great! I used to think I was worth nothing 'cept what dough I could make. And I know it's not good to get confidence based on outside validation, but... after Weirdmageddon and stopping Bill and Ford callin’ me a hero, and now with all this praising me for bein' a good brother and how protective I am of my family in general, well... makes a man lift his chin a little higher, know what I mean?

As for Ford, I tend to limit what he can see on our internet connection. Wendy showed me how to put on parental controls. See, I've had fans on this blog before try to tell Ford about stuff like Rule 34 and whatnot. Then I had to borrow Ford's nerd gun and get out my brass knuckles and yell at 'em to start runnin'. Literally, check back to some early posts. Protectin' family. It's what I do!

I mean, you do you, internet. No hate. But Ford was away from the world for thirty years. He hasn't seen the depravity the internet can descend to like I have. I know he's tough - survivin' in the Multiverse for decades will make sure of that - but y'know... baby steps.

Stanford: Stan, may I remind you that I am an adult man? The same age as you? It’s been over a year since I got back to this dimension. And I’ve seen some horrifying things in other dimensions. I think I can handle unrestricted internet-

Stanley: You mini-nuked a picture of yourself in a speedo, Ford.

Stanford: See? Perfectly and healthily handled.

Stanley: Really? Mini-nuking a piece of paper wasn’t overkill in the slightest?

Stanford: No.

Stanley: *Sighs.* Y'know, you could use your high IQ and science gobbledygook to like, I dunno, improve the world instead of destroying fanart and gettin’ revenge on your poor old twin brother for dumb shit that didn’t deserve nearly the level of response it got.

Stanford: *Smiles in smug satisfaction with no regret whatsoever.*

Stanley: Or like, I dunno, invent somethin’ to make my life better as thanks for savin’ your ass from the portal, or that annoying Dorito, or all the times I rescued you or punched somethin’ for you on our Stan-O’-War II trip?

Stanford: *Hands Stan something from his trench coat.*

Stanley: This is deodorant.

Stanford: Yes, you said you wanted something to make your life better. *Pulls Stan into a one-armed hug and pats his cheek.* It’ll also make mine better, too.

Stanley: You’re dead to me, Ford!

Stanford: Love you too, Stanley.

#stanley pines #stanford pines #gravity falls #askthestans #why are salty old men the best characters?

[askthestans]

Hello Pines brothers. I come to you about an old question: about being a father and guardian. Stanley, know that you would be a wonderful father and a wonderful parent. Of course, you are not perfect in many ways, but you know the basic things about forgetting about someone: feeding, washing, proper sleep and safety. Unlike your brother, who can't even take care of himself, let alone anyone else. Stanley, have you ever considered adopting a newborn baby in the past?

Stanley: Well, Lu (can I call ya that for short?), you're right. I may not be a dad, but I'm somethin' even better: a Grunkle. See, people think parents are the most important people in a kid's life. And they are, don't get me wrong! But a Grunkle (or Graunty, for that matter) is so important, too. We're like backup parents or grandparents, minus dumb rules like goin' to bed at a reasonable time or limits on sugar intake, with added fun and law-breaking!

And you're 100% right: Ford can't take care of himself. Why do ya think I know about parenting so well? I had to look after this nerdy runt for years of my life! When we were kids, guess who had to protect ‘im from bullies and brush the sand outta his hair? Me. When we were teens, who had to make sure his late night science fair project candy stash was stocked and that he got enough sleep? This guy, that's who.

Never mind the thirty years I spent gettin' him back from sci-fi sideburn land. Oh, he whined about *raises voice an octave* "openin' that portal was too dangerous, Stan!" and "ya almost tore apart the fabric of reality!", but without me, Ford'd still be sleepin' in some slimy alien's armpit and chewin' on chicken-flavored tentacle strips for dinner.

If I thought workin' on fixin' the portal was hard, I was not prepared for takin' care of this guy after he got back. Oof, I'd take the task of carin' for Little Dork Ford or readin' theoretical physics textbooks over...

*He gestures over at Ford, who's working at the desk in his lab.* Ugh, whatever this wrinkly, musty, grumpy old creature is. It's Little Dork Ford, but now it sheds everywhere, has an ego, and it gets into even more trouble somehow.

Stanford: *Is currently busy at his desk, scribbling away at some experiment notes.* You do know that I can hear you insulting me, Stan?

Stanley: See? Ego taller than the Empire State Building, all to cover up insecurity as deep as... hey, Ford? What’s the world’s deepest ocean trench you told me those underwater aliens or whatever hide in?

Stanford: The Mariana Trench.

Stanley: Yeah, that place! Thanks, Sixer-

Stanford: *Reaches into sliding shelf behind his desk, pulls out The Norton Anthology of Shakespeare, Third Edition. He turns around without a word, narrows his eyes, and holds it up so Stan can see what it is. There are little post-it markers sticking up in neon colors from the pages, each marked similarly to “Quotes to Share with Stan #33″ His expression turns into a wicked, depraved smile.*

Stanley: *Backs away and starts sweating.* ANYWAYS, let’s take this conversation upstairs! AS FAR AWAY FROM FORD AS POSSIBLE!

*Stan drops a smoke bomb, rips the laptop they use to answer AsktheStans questions off its charger, and runs into the elevator of Ford’s lab.*

*The elevator, being old and rickety as it is, takes a long time to close the doors and start lifting. Stan holds the laptop with one hand and furiously, desperately smashes the up arrow button with the other, swearing profusely at how slow it is.*

*Meanwhile, a figure with six fingers looms in the dissipating smoke just outside the doors, outlined in the occasional neon blue flash of machinery he walks past, pacing closer, a book opened in his hands like a preacher about to read scripture at a demon.*

Stanley: Not again! *Screams and cowers as Ford nears and the doors are still closing, slowly, slowly...*

Stanford: “Thou ominous and fearful owl of death, Our nation’s terror and their bloody-”

*The doors close just before Ford can reach them.*

Stanley: *Lets out a sigh of relief and wipes his brow.* Whew! That was close. Hopefully he’ll calm down before this old elevator gets back down and up again. Heh, I have a good hidin’ spot just in case, though. I made sure to find one after last week’s event where I interrupted his dumb ‘married to science’ joke.

*Stan keeps talking as the elevator creaks upwards.* Sorry, your question... uh... adoptin’ a newborn baby. Hm...

Come to think of it, I actually did try to adopt a newborn once! It was a few years after I got established here at the Shack, had some extra money, was feelin’ a little lonely, wanted someone to teach all my good moral lessons and tell stories of the good ol’ heist days to...

So I went to the nearest adoption agency and asked about it. I even had a name picked out: Stanford Sherman Pines! I thought, just wait ‘til I get Ford back, and he sees this cute kiddo that’s named after him. Heh, just picture his face-

*The elevator doors open to the stairwell just down from the Gift Shop. Ford is waiting just outside. The book is still open in his hands. His eyes are unblinking.*

Stanford: “The period of thy tyranny approacheth. On us thou canst not enter but by death-”

Stanley: *Rips Ford’s glasses off, digs into his own pocket, and throws awfully convenient salt into Ford’s eyes. Stan politely tucks the glasses back into Ford’s coat pocket with a little tap, then slams the down arrow elevator button this time.*

*By the time Ford gets back up from hunching over in pain, the doors close in his face again. Stan starts talking again.*

L-long story short, they saw my criminal history, and said no. I told ‘em they were makin’ a mistake! I, Stanley - er, well, I was pretendin’ to be Stanford at the time - Pines, would make a great dad! I mean, look at how well I took care of Dips and Mabes over last summer! They only went to jail once. And I even made ‘em Stancakes a few times!

But oh well. A few years later, Soos showed up at my door and got hired. I mean, he’s not my son, just my favorite employee, but he’s as close to a kid as I could ask for. With him, the little Pines twins, and Ford, I got all the kids I need! Seriously, ya might think I’m a big kid myself, and you’re right, but compared to those four, I feel like a mother hen.

Just doin’ the laundry around here is like a constant cycle of scrubbin’ food stains and science experiment chemicals. And who do you think all these dorks come to when they need a shoulder to cry on?

*The elevator door opens up to Ford’s lab again.*

*Stan winces, then when nothing happens, he peers out. Ford is nowhere to be seen. Stan lets out another sigh of relief, then starts walking out of the elevator. The laptop is still in his hands, the camera showing the empty elevator behind him.*

Looks like Ford finally gave up! Heh, salt! Didn’t think that would work, but it just goes to show ya, when in doubt, and when your twin brother who spent thirty years survivin’ in a hellish slew of dimensions comes after you for tellin’ the truth about his awful insecurity issues...

*Unbeknownst to Stan, behind him on the camera, a figure pops down from the service access hatch in the elevator roof, landing as silently as a ninja, rising from the still dissipating smoke as a shadow, the only light on the figure being glasses agleam with blue glow.*

Salt will do the trick! Yep, that’s all it took. I’m sure he’ll get me back for it later, but ya never know! Think he’ll forgive me? Hah! Of course he’ll forgive me! He’s my twin brother. Deep down he loves me, ya know?

*The figure comes up right behind Stan into the light, quiet as a ghost. It’s Ford, eyes puffy and red, tears streaming down his face, salt glistening in his eyelashes, but he’s still expressionless and unblinking.*

*Ford’’s pain is indeed great, but the stinging salt of betrayal can always be soothed by the sweet taste of revenge.*

Stanley: Ah! I’m sure he’ll forgive me. And if the salt doesn’t work and he’s still mad, I can always fall back on old reliable, right? *Stan makes a motion, as if kneeing someone in the crotch.* I did that once before, and he deserved every moment of-

Stanford: Care to let me finish?

*The laptop’s camera turns into a blur of machines and shadows and the sound of screaming. The laptop is set back down on the table and left streaming. Ford walks past slowly, book raised, reciting line after line of Shakespeare, screen glitching until all movement stops.*

*An hour passes. Eventually, Ford comes back and sees the laptop is still on. He leans down to speak, smiling innocently.*

Stanford: Oh! I forgot about the laptop. Apologies, internet stranger! My brother and I just had a casual argument, is all. Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him. He’ll be fine.

*A scream erupts from somewhere further back in Ford’s lab. Ford turns around, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.*

Stanley, if you wanted to avoid getting locked in a room with a barghest, you should have thought about that before you sassed me and threw salt into my eyes!

*Chuckles and speaks to the camera with his mouth behind his hand.* Actually, the barghest is a pretty friendly creature. Demonic looking thing, but give it a nice belly rub or a bone, and it’ll be wagging its tail in no time. But Stan doesn’t need to know that.

Now, if he’d interrupted my marriage to science speech again, well... let’s just say I would have locked him in a pitch black room with a far worse creature.

*Shrugs.*

I’ll just leave this on for you all to listen to the sweet symphony of justice. Also because I need someone to bounce some ideas off of. What do you say? Want to help Dr. Pines - world-renowned supernatural expert - plan a new DD&MD campaign?

*Another scream. Demonic howling and the sound of rattling chains ensue.*

*Ford laughs, brings the laptop with him, then sits back at his desk, humming Dead or Alive’s ‘You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)’ as he scribbles away, occasionally asking the viewer their opinions on what monsters to use in said campaign.*

#stanley pines #stanford pines #gravity falls #yeah so uh Ford's starting to scare me even as the writer of this blog #but you know what I need more dramatic nerd moments in my life and so do you #he survived thirty years in the multiverse somehow #you can't tell me this man doesn't have a dark side #he pursued bill for 30 years #he holds grudges and he holds them well #ford is an owl #an ominous and fearful owl of death

[askthestans]

The Battle of the Stans (AI) - Pt. 2: Hunklegeddon

(Okay, so this might be the longest AI chat I’ve posted yet, but PLEASE read to the end because holy hell, it feels like this could actually be an episode of GF; the AI kicked ass with this one, and I don’t think I’ll ever top this).

Keep reading

#this AI surpassed everything I've ever written on this blog #this legit feels like a real GF episode #main blog reblog #hunklegeddon #the stan bro episode we never got

[askthestans]

Stanford, will you marry me??

Stanley: Look, kid. We've been over this. Ford can't marry anyone, because dorkus is already married to-

Stanford: Stanley, let me say it.

Stanley: Yeesh! Does every opportunity to be a dramatic nerd summon you, or somethin'?

Stanford: ...Yes?

Stanley: *Sighs*. Fine. But only 'cause you'd cry if I didn't let ya. *Stan facepalms, then gestures towards Ford.* Lupin, I hope ya know what kind of torture askin' Ford cringe-enablin' questions like this puts me through. But you wanted it. So here it is.

*Mumbles* Can't believe I had to share a womb with this man...

Stanford: Alright, are you ready? Are you prepared for it?

Stanley: Yes, Poindexter. They're ready. Shit or get off the pot before I smash my head through the computer screen.

Stanford: Dear Lupin, I'm afraid I can't marry you. Do you want to know why?

*A long dramatic pause ensues.*

Because I'm already married... to-

Stanley: *Stan pushes Ford out of the way.*

To SCIENCE!

Ha, in your face, Ford! I've had to suffer through years of hearin' that dumb joke, and now, I finally stole the punchline! How's it feel? Huh?

Stanford: "..."

Stanley: Ford? Ford, you, uh... you okay?

Stanford: "..."

Stanley: Ford, it was just a joke! C'mon, ya don't expect me to really believe I just broke your heart by finishin' that dumb saying for ya?

Stanford: "..."

Stanley: Damn it, Ford, you're not guiltin' me! You sent me through a portal to a bunch of angry leprechauns last week, and durin' the premiere of The Duchess Approves' reboot, no less! Which sucked anyways, but that's besides the point! I coulda returned a way worse kind of revenge for that heartless stunt!

Stanford: Married to... I was supposed to say...

Stanley: Ford? No hard feelings, right? We're two grown men. Above petty things, right? We gotta set a good twin example for Dips and Pumpkin. We can't be mad at each other again! It'll break their little-

Stanford: "Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand. Blood and revenge are hammering in my head."

Stanley: You're... oh God, you're quotin' Shakespeare! The last time ya did that was right before...

*Stan has a flashback of the absolute worst revenge Ford has ever pulled on him. It made the leprechauns incident look like child's play, and ended with Stan unable to get out of bed on the Stan-O'-War II for a week, at Ford's mercy, unable to do anything without his help, which Ford withheld over Stan's head by making him compliment and apologize to Ford every time Stan needed something.*

*Stan grabs the computer screen and looks into the viewer's eyes.*

If I don't survive this, just know that the cover up is a lie! There was no accident! Ford did me in! Don't let him get away with-

*Stan is dragged away from the computer screen. There's a long pause as he's pulled out of the room kicking and screaming. Then Ford comes back into view, and he looks deep into the viewer's eyes.*

Stanford: You saw nothing.

#stanford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls #askthestans #ahh good ol sibling rivalry

[askthestans]

Truest Reflection (Short Story for Stanuary 2023 Week One: Mystery)

Excerpt:

“Do you remember this place, Stanley?”

Stan nodded. He wasn’t sure he liked it, though. Like Ford wearing both red and blue, it confused him. Or Ford calling him a hero. It looked right at times, and it sure sparkled pretty, but then the fog came and muddied things, tattering the landscape into patchwork pieces, never one whole, coherent picture.

It got worse the closer they got to that place. Dread anchored in Stan’s chest at the sight of that faded brick building on the first paved street after the sand. It still had the yellow and white stripe awning - although sunken now - and the mezuzah by the door. But the neon ‘PHONE PSYCHIC’ sign in the window was black and dead, and the other sign that once read two full words now simply said ‘P____S P____S’, a nudging whisper of what once had been.

(Happy Stanuary 2023! This is my submission for the first week’s theme: Mystery. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. All hail the Grunkle with the world’s biggest heart. <3)

(Also, if you like listening to music while writing/reading, I had this song playing on repeat while I wrote this short story. I felt it fit well for Stan in the first days of his Stan-O’-War II adventures with Ford).

Full short story under the cut —

Keep reading

#self reblog from my main blog #thought folks here would like it <3 #stanley focused fic #happy stanuary!

[askthestans]

Dear Stanley Pines. Do your remember people's reactions toward Ford when he was shown to public with you for the first time? How does people in Gravity Falls think about him?

Stanley: Well, we already talked about Wendy in another post. She basically didn't care, which was kinda expected. Can't get that girl to care about anything, honestly.

Soos mostly stayed away from Ford for my sake, at first. Said Ford didn’t appreciate me enough, and told ‘im right to his face that he was lucky to have me as a family member, ‘cause not everyone has family that sticks around and works that hard to make up for their mistakes like I did.

Eventually Soos and Ford got along. I mean, now the kid makes Stanfiction with him as the main character, which is as puke-worthy as it sounds. By the end of last Summer, he grew to respect Ford, but he was not a Ford fan at all for a while.

Not sure if you've noticed, but Soos and I have a rather... complex relationship. He’s extremely loyal to me. I s’pose I should feel grateful, but it’s a little weird, honestly.

Stanford: Stan, we talked about this when we were on the Stan-O-War. It’s quite obvious that Soos looks up to you as a fath-

Stanley: Boss! He looks up to me as the world’s greatest former boss! D-don’t listen to Sixer, here. Ain’t nothin’ between me and Soos but a serious, coldhearted manager-employee relationship!

Stanford: Stanley, he left your room here completely untouched after he took ownership of the Shack. When we got back, he knocked over everyone - including Melody - out of the way to hug you and wouldn’t let go for an hour.

Stanley: See? I’m the best boss he’s ever had.

Stanford: He emailed you every day while we were out at sea, sometimes multiple times, asking you for life advice and telling you how much he missed you, with attached pictures of himself in your Mr. Mystery outfit and how proud he was to wear it. Never mind the fact that he emailed me every day, too, to ask me to make sure you were happy and came back home safe.

That’s not even accounting for how he’s planning on naming his firstborn son after you-

Stanley: Stanley is a common, classy name. There’s no relation whatsoever- Stanford: Stanley...

Stanley: What!? Soos had some actual taste for once in his life, is all I’m sayin’! Who said I cried when he told me he was namin’ his son Stanley!? I didn’t feel a heartwrenching ache in my chest for days afterwards, neither! Not at all!

Stanford: *Pulls out a camera. On it is a set of photos of Stan standing on the deck of the Stan-O-War II, a doofy grin on his face, eyes puffy from what must have been hours of tears, with the look of a man who finally feels emotionally fulfilled for the first time in his life.* Photo evidence, Stanley- Stanley: *Snatches camera from Ford and vigorously deletes them. Afterwards, he gives Ford a betrayed look.*

Stanford: *Chuckles and snatches the camera back.* Not to mention, the extra hour you spent at the store the other day debating between buying a baby blanket and bottles and toys, then - you of all people, Mr. Cheapskate Pennypinch McScrooge himself - bought all of them and more, then proceeded to grin the entire time we spent in the checkout and during the drive home. You even started crying aga-

Stanley: ANYWAYS! How’d the rest of the town react to Ford? Let’s talk about that instead! That’s far more interesting than mine and Soos’ completely boring manager-employee relationship.

Ford, talk about yourself! It’s your favorite thing to do, right? Tell ‘em how everyone in this hickdump town reacted to the mind-blowin’, plot twisty return of Stanford Filbrick Pines.

*Stan grabs the camera back again and furiously scrolls through all the pictures and videos, making sure none of them contain any incriminating content of him deeply caring about Soos. Most are a mix of very symmetrical, magazine-worthy pictures taken by Ford of supernatural creatures, landscapes, and the two Stan twins bonding, plus blurry shots or clips taken by Stan of random things like Ford getting chased by a werepanther, or Ford drunk off his ass while trying to slurringly explain why vampires are factually not sparkly and hot, but a few are targets for Stan’s deletion fury.

Except one. It’s of him, probably taken by Ford when Stan didn’t notice. He’s also drunk in this video, but unlike Ford - who can’t shut up and goes on angry, barely coherent rants when he’s got liquor in him, as if speaking to some invisible college lecture class (complete with wobbly chalkboard diagrams or bar napkin graphs) - Stan is a sappy, happy drunk.

He’s sitting at their table in the Stan-O-War II, a beer sloshing in widely gesturing hand, rambling about how Soos deserves better. The video jitters as Stan forces Ford into a hug, telling him that that’s exactly how he’s going to hug Soos when they get back, and that even though he never had kids, he considers Soos... well, close enough to it, and that Soos kept him company all those years. Without him, Stan would have been a much sadder, lonelier man, and he owes Soos his life.

Stan smiles at that one as Ford explains an answer to the asker’s question. He’s not gonna delete that one. Maybe one day... no, he probably won’t show that to Soos. Or will he? Ugh...

Stanford: Before I got lost in the portal, most of the town hadn’t seen me much, if at all. And Stan and I look alike enough that, when I left and he took my identity, most didn’t know better. Except Fiddleford. But Fiddleford was...

*Ford looks guilty.* Well, his memory was not in the best shape, is all I’ll say. Of course, the townsfolk eventually saw Stan and I together, side-by-side, after Weirdmageddon ended and everything had calmed down. That was the moment we got reactions...

---

Pacifica: Hey, why is Stan suddenly hot now?

---

Candy: Improvement of Stan?

---

Gideon: My oh my, who knew that the genius behind the journals was none other than the long lost twin and great uncle of my mortal enemies all along?

*Eye twitches.* I haven’t forgiven you for the way you write sentences, Stanford Pines. I almost died multiple times because o' your knack for placin' warnings not to do somethin’ on pages after you’ve already said to do them. That should have been my first hint that the Author was from the stupid Pines family!

Dipper: Wait, Journal 2 has sentences written like that, too?

Stanford: Just how many children were running around with my journals!? Also, I ran out of room to write!

Gideon: And you’ve run out of time to atone for your mistakes, Stanford Pines.

*After this point, Ford was sent countless curses in the mail with the return address matching the Gravity Falls maximum security prison. Even when he and Stan were on the Stan-O’-War II away from any mailboxes, they’d get sent the occasional demon or poltergeist visitor as well. Ford easily dispelled or exorcised most of these, but being woken in the middle of the night on the dark ocean with some horrific monster breathing into Ford and Stan’s faces was not easy to deal with. Ford eventually beat an answer out of them as to who kept sending their ilk, and started redirecting some back to the sender. This occult summoning war continues to this day.

Stan tried to convince Ford that a good broom to the face was all it took to get Gideon to scurry off, but Ford only put his hand on Stan’s shoulder, sighed, looked down for a while...

And then he said, “Stanley, I write sentences perfectly, and I will summon the entirety of the multiverse’s worst horrors upon that child to prove my point.”

---

Grenda: Teach me your deep voiced ways, Cave Johnson!

---

Lazy Susan: Hey there, handsome! Hey! I tried to date your brother, but he said it couldn’t work out because of all my cats. Are you a cat person? You seem like a cat person. Maybe you could come over and meet all of them? Oh, I bet Mr. Cat Face would love you! What do you say, Stanford? Wait, Stanley, why are you dragging your brother away from me? You don’t think he’d like my cats?

---

Sheriff Blubs: You mean to tell me that your brother was impersonating you all this time? So Stanford Pines did not, in fact, commit the largest list of felonies in Gravity Falls’ history?

Stanford: Yes. That is precisely what I’m saying. And Stanley’s technically legally dead. So Stanley Pines didn’t commit them either, nor should any law enforcement ever come after him again. You got it?

*Durland and Blubs glance at each other, looking disbelieving, but then Blubs glances at Ford again. Ford is glaring at them both with his trench coat opened, showing a gleaming assortment of knives, sci-fi weaponry, and Earth guns.*

Sheriff Blubs: Can’t argue with that logic!

---

Reginald: Now that we're finally alone, again, far away from Gravity Falls in this romantic, sunset sea cove off the coast of Japan... Rosanna, there's a burning question which my heart longs to ask of you.

Rosanna: Oh, Reginald!

Distant Voice: Hey, other humans!

*A boat named the Stan-O’-War II pulls up to theirs.*

Stanford: *Battered, covered with green blood, a large kaiju baby tied down on the ship’s deck behind him.* Want to hear a joke? Here goes... My ex-eldritch cult from Dimension 8]2M still miss me...but their aim is getting better!

...

Their aim is getting better!

...

See, it's-it's funny because soul-bonding, ritualistic pacts are terrible!

*Reginald and Rosanna turn to each other, stare into each other’s eyes without a blink for far too long, then jump overboard, never to be seen again.*

#gravity falls #askthestans #stanford pines #stanley pines #it all comes full circle yes #i wrote this at 5 am hope it's coherent

[askthestans]

Everyone, meet AI Ford...

So I saw some other folks were making Gravity Falls Character AI’s, so of course, I wanted to make one for our favorite nerd. And uh… well…?

[askthestans]

Dear Stanford Pines.

As Stanley has Stanleymobile as his own personal transportation, do you have any plans for vehicles of you own? Or, prefer using public transport? Rather come up with a completely different solution like portable portal?

Stanford: Well, my real Earth driving license - before Stanley started getting ones made in my name - expired over thirty years ago, and my licenses to operate hoverboards, starships, mass relays, and teleporters are useless for obvious reasons.

Normally, I'd be fine just walking everywhere to keep in peak shape, but sometimes the occasional trip outside of town is necessary. I'd ask Stanley to drive me around, but ever since the Ireland incident...

Stanley: Ford, that was almost a year ago! 'Sides, I was gonna rob 'em eventually anyway. Hittin' that stumpy drunken jerk with our car was just makin' my job easier. It's not my fault he looked like a traffic cone with all that carrot hair.

Stanford: We went to Ireland to study leprechauns, Stan. Not steal from and turn them into roadkill.

Stanley: Maybe you went for nerd studies, but I followed along for the whiskey. And the pretty green hills to stare at during hangover recovery.

Stanford: Really? Because I seem to remember that somebody had the chutzpah to not only steal the dead leprechaun’s wallet, but drop it in front of his family while I was trying to apologize to them for your first thievery attempt at their pot of gold, and because somebody dropped my pistol into the ocean while drunk the night before, we had to desecrate a historical castle by stealing old bricks from it to fight said leprechauns off with. 

And then, when we ran out of those, you tripped me so that they could maul me instead because, as you so eloquently put it, “Sorry, Sixer, but you’ll be thankin’ me later!” as you hurried towards the ship with the gold and not me.

Even better, we then spent the night in jail when the authorities realized who’d disturbed a castle wall, the cell of which just so happened to have a resident banshee who screeched for hours.

Stanley: Oh, Mebh! Minus the creepy wailing, that gal sure knew how to spin an entertainin' story! Too bad she didn't get to marry that medieval Lord McCrane or whatever his name was. But I liked her gumption. Best prison buddy I've ever had, and that's includin' Rico. Was the first time I realized maybe not all your supernatural creep buddies are so bad.

Stanford: She murdered that lord’s wife in cold blood, Stan.

Stanley: Yeah, reminds me of when I drove that hippy's van - y'know, the one who swiped Carla from me - into a ravine. She agreed that I was perfectly in the right for that. Asked me if I wanted her to find him and finish the job, even. I had a hard time sayin' no, but I did the right thing and said-

Stanford: You merely shrugged. Merely.

Stanley: Hey, if that jerk gets his soul sucked out, serves 'im right.

Stanford: Also, would you like to tell our internet friends what you sacrificed me to the leprechauns for? Why I got covered in bite marks, and why my sweater was ripped away in tatters and I had to run back to the ship shirtless with a leprechaun hanging off my rear with his teeth that left a rainbow imprint there for a week afterwards?

Stanley: It was for the gold, we already covered that.

Stanford: What did you spend the gold on, Stanley?

Stanley: *shrugs* I promised Mabel I’d get her some fancy yarn made of real wool. What’s wrong with that?

Stanford: Yes, two coins of the gold went towards that. The other hundreds of pieces went towards you buying rounds for a whole tavern the next night. You got drunk again. You puked. On my... trench coat.

Stanley: Pfft, you had tons more anyway-

Stanford: Nobody defiles my trench coat!

Stanley: Yeesh, I did you a favor, Ford. You’re lucky nobody barfed on it before that just lookin’ at it.

Stanford: *sighs* Anyways, I’m never trusting Stan behind a wheel ever again. I’ve been working on a mini-portal device based on some blueprints I sto- I mean, borrowed from my good friend Rick Sanchez. Once that’s up and running, I’ll have to test it. 

What do you say, Stan? Want to help your old brother out by testing a teleportation device? I’ll make sure it goes right to Ireland, to a very specific spot where a very angry family of leprechauns are still waiting, and have already gotten a taste for Pines gluteal meat.

Stanley: Oh, come on, you wouldn’t actually do that to me, would you? I apologized, like, a million times!

Stanford: Of course not, Stan. I am a man of science, and I understand that petty, precisely planned and enacted at the most inconvenient of times revenge is a silly human folly that one should strive to surpass.

Stanley: Oh. Well, good. Oddly, specific, but good.

--- ONE WEEK LATER ---

*Stan is walking down the Shack hallway towards the kitchen. Dipper, Mabel, and Ford are already there, Ford having made them breakfast.*

Stanley: Tell me you made some for me, too? 

Stanford: *turns around from the stove* I’m afraid not, Stan. You’ve got a big day ahead of you. You won’t have time to eat, remember?

Dipper: Is it shoplift-for-Summerween day already?

Mabel: Wait, I know! It’s National Grunkles Day, isn’t it!?

Stanford: No to both. Stanley, care to take a guess? It involves a certain show of yours.

Stanley: *face scrunches in fear* Wait, I thought The Duchess Approves’ reboot wasn’t ‘til next week?

Stanford: No, it’s today. Which is why I made sure to finish this last night.

*Ford pulls out a small device and, with a pistol-quick draw, causes a swirling teal portal to open up in the floor. Through it, rolling green hills and a group of red-haired, gnome-like creatures can be seen a little ways off.

Ford trips Stan as Stan looks to peer inside. Stan’s yelling can be heard as he falls in and hits ground.*

Stanford: Wait, Stanley! Look back up! Take my hand and I’ll get you out.

*Stan reaches up back to the portal, but just as he almost reaches Ford’s hand, Ford pulls it away.*

Stanford: My trench coat is beautiful.

*Stan screeches as a horde of leprechauns catch sight of him and take chase. Ford stands back up with a cat-like smile as he looks down upon sweet, sweet revenge, then takes his current trench coat by the collar and pops it out smugly.*

Hey, kids?

Dipper and Mabel: *look on in stunned silence*

Stanford: Now that I know this portal gun works and we have a few hours until Stan’s favorite show is done airing, care to help me find the Mothman? I have a particular dimension full of acid-vomiting, murderous bear-scorpions I’d like to send him to.

#stanford pines #stanley pines #sea grunks #well sea grunks sort of because Ireland hijinks #gravity falls #the moral of the story today kids is don't cross ford #or sass his trench coat fashion #because you'll end up mauled by supernatural creatures #askthestans

[askthestans]

Hey Ford, I know that you've described the 'other side' as a sort of nightmarish hell, but there must've been something beautiful there no matter how small it was… Am I right?

Stanford: Oh, there was beauty in infinity out there. Tell me, have you ever tasted a star? Smelled a nebula? Slept in a black hole, soothed to slumber by the sound of the universe relenting to entropy and the quiet hush of nothingness?

Stanley: Does my bank account count?

Stanford: And that's not even including the people. It wasn't how different they were that astonished me. It was how similar they were. No matter what dimension, planet, or form we reside in, we all experience the same things. Birth. Death. Hatred. Love. Before I went through that portal, I'd never imagined that I could sit down at a bar and have a life-changing chat with a three-eyed, tentacled, arsenic-based lifeform about the untimely loss of his brother.

Or that time I'd fallen asleep in a muddy city ditch, broken and bruised, and woke up with a cat-like creature just as battered and starving as I was cuddling in my hood for warmth. It helped me find the will to live, if only to help it stay alive, its presence an ember in a fire that I thought had burned out long before.

No matter how much you feel like it, you're never alone. Someone somewhere knows your pain and struggle. Your heartbreak, your isolation, your fear, your lost hopes and dreams. We are all infinite reflections of the same story. Shattered pieces of one cosmic whole, and at times we are lucky enough to find another shard of that broken mirror that looks a lot more like us than we expected.

Stanley: I understood like five percent of that. But I look like you. Does that count?

Stanford: Yes, Stanley. It counts for more than you know.

#stanford pines #stanley pines #askthestans #gravityfalls #aawwWA cute old men

[askthestans]

Stan and ford pines do you aware that you had fandon of your own who like making fanart about you and do you aware of fanfiction

Stanley: I dunno, ya might not wanna bring up fanart and Stanfiction in front of Sixer here. Not after the... incident we had a few days ago.

Stanford: I’ve seen many disturbing things in my life, but that horror we witnessed was beyond even what the nightmare realm could conjure. That’s why I destroyed it.

Stanley: You’re tellin’ me that you, Dr. Dorktron 3000, who built a portal because ya wanted ‘girls to start talkin' to you finally’, is offended that folks on the internet drew you in a rather generous light, some of them likely including girls? And not just pictures! They write stuff about you, too. I know we skipped out on nearly forty years together, but the Ford I knew as a kid woulda been overjoyed to get that much attention.

Stanford: Yes, but I want adoration for my mind, Stanley! For my contributions to science. My body is merely a vessel for me that I have to maintain on occasion so that I can continue to pursue this world’s mysteries. What use is attention for something I can’t control? I’d rather I be lauded for what I’ve achiev-

Stanley: There it is.

Stanford: What?

Stanley: *raises voice* Oh internet, don’t make pictures of me! I may be a silver fox and can’t control my studliness, but please notice my big sexy brain instead!

Cut the bull, Ford. Also, you look like me. I don’t mean to brag, but there’s a reason they call me Hunkle Stan. And if the internet can love a chubby old conman like me, well... you’re like the fitter version of that. Put two and two together and it just makes sense.

*Ford opens his mouth to argue, but pauses. His brown eyes widen and his brows raise, as if realizing something for the first time. The expression quickly leaves, though, replaced by a neutral face. Though anyone looking closely would notice that he is fidgeting with his hands, at first behind his back, then brings them forward and rubs one of his sixth fingers.*

Stanford: *sighs* Alright, fine. I won’t bring out any more nuclear weapons if the internet continues to make art of me... for whatever reason. But it better be fanart that emphasizes my dedication to knowledge, my skill with advanced weaponry, and most importantly, my bold sense of adventure into the world’s greatest - and weirdest - unknowns.

Stanley: A badass, then?

Stanford: A smart badass, to be exact. A scientist who’s as willing to investigate the strange as he is to protect those he loves from it. Something along the lines of this:

Stanley: Well, internet, you heard the man. Ford wants pictures and stories about being a sci-fi sideburn badass. No more speedos. Though if some were to just happen to show up in my mailbox...

Stanford: Nukes, Stanley.

Stanley: Hey, ‘til you start pitchin' in towards the electricity bill - which is ridiculous thanks to your nerdamagookery downstairs - I’ll do anything I need to to keep this place running. Just think of all the hunkle art and merch we could sell to hordes of fangirls in the gift shop!

Stanford: Nukes.

Stanley: Pfft, alright, fine! Wet blanket...

---

*That night, Stan walks down the Shack hallway to use the bathroom. However, someone’s inside. Stan is certain it’s Dipper, as he’s the usual culprit when the bathroom is occupied and music is blasting within. However, there’s no BABBA to be heard. Instead, synths and distorted and glitchy sound effects can be heard, as if someone is listening to a science fiction movie soundtrack. A little quieter are the small ‘pew pew’ and explosion noises, obviously made by someone’s mouth.*

Stanley: Hey, Dipper, quit nerdin’ out in there! All that Pitt Cola I drank is kickin’ in and-

*The music stops. Pure silence.*

Dips!?

*The twins peer around the corner.*

Dipper: Grunkle Stan, I’ve been in the living room for hours.

Mabel: Yeah, we’ve been watching this cool new show called Things are Strange! It’s about this little town in Indiana and there are all these mysteries and hot teenage boys and this cute monster called the Demogorgon!

Stanley: What? Then who...?

*Stan narrows his eyes and puts his fists on his hips.*

Ford? Ford, I know it’s you in there!

Stanford: I’m busy!

Stanley: Even with that permanent stick up your rear I know it doesn’t take ya that long to finish. And what’s with the nerd music? Look, Poindexter, you’ve got to the count of three...

Stanford: Stanley, this is my house! I can stay in my own bathroom for as long as-

Stanley: Two... I’m pullin’ out a bobby pin!

*A loud bang sounds as Ford puts himself up against the door. Stan takes out a bobby pin and unlocks the door faster than what seems physically possible.*

Alright, what are you doin’ in...?

*Stan manages to push the door back to reveal Ford in the bathroom, shirtless but wearing the pants, boots, and oversized goggles he wore when he walked out of the portal a year before. His scars and burns and healed wounds from the other dimensions are on full display. The rifle he had carried back from the portal is wrapped in his arms, as are two of his pistols, latched into hip holsters. His turtleneck and trench coat are nowhere to be found. The only tell of what might have just been going on is that the steam in the mirror from an earlier shower has been wiped away.*

What in the absolute- Ford? What the hell were you doin’ in here?

Mabel: Grunkle Stan, don’t be so rude to Grunkle... *Peers in alongside Dipper.* 

Stanford: *Cheeks turn beet red.* There... there was an eldritch beast that wandered in here. I had to make sure I killed it.

Stanley: Why were you playin’ music, then?

Stanford: I... I needed to distract it.

Dipper: Why’s the mirror cleared off?

Mabel: Wait, Grunkle Ford, were you posing in front of it?

Stanford: N-no! I told you, there was an eldritch abomination in here! Now, clear out while I continue to look for it. If it harmed any of you, I don’t know what I’d do.

*Stan, Dipper, and Mabel glance at each other silently. Stan and Mabel burst out laughing, meanwhile Dipper's eyes get nearly sparkly as he glances at Ford’s guns and scars.*

Stanford: I’m telling the truth! *Pushes them out and shuts the door and locks it again.*

Stanley: Oh sure, Ford. Be sure to put the sci-fi doofus track back on before you continue your epic nerd adventure!

Dipper: For what it’s worth, Grunkle Ford, you look cool!

Stanley: Quit kissin’ his butt, Dipper. Yeesh, keep talkin’ like that and I’ll start thinkin’ you write fanfic for Ford like Soos does.

Dipper:

C’mon, you don’t think I’d write fanfiction about my own great uncle, would you? What would I write about, anyway? How cool he looked coming out of that portal? How much I hope I turn out like he does someday, all buff and smart and awesome and battle-scarred?

Stan and Mabel: *Raise a brow.*

*Eventually, all three walk away from the door, Stan grousing about having to use the outhouse this late at night.*

Stanford: *Looks at the CD player by the sink.* Sorry old friend, looks like I’ll have to go without you from now on.

*Ford puts one boot up on the closed toilet, adjusts his goggles around his neck just so, then holds up his rifle with one hand somewhat behind his torso, the other angled so that his bicep is flexing. It’s at least another hour of him going through different poses in front of the mirror, some with the rifle, some with only one pistol, a few times with both pistols out. Through it all, he makes pew-pew and explosion noises.

When he hears that the Shack has become quiet, he finishes, nods at himself in the mirror, then heads out to go back up to his room. But first, he decides to go down to his lab to put the large rifle back.

He walks into the Gift Shop to find someone is there. He lifts his pistol and cocks it at the figure.*

Soos: Dood! Put it down!

Stanford: Soos? *Puts pistol down.* What the hell are you doing here this late at night?

Soos: Well, what are you doing here, in the Gift Shop, late at night, looking so... hunky?

Stanford: ...

Soos: ...

Stanford: Put that down! Wait, hey-

*Soos runs out of the Shack, screaming something about doing it for the internet’s sake. Also, because Stan said he’d pay him for any and all shirtless Ford pictures he could scrounge up.*

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #askthestans #Soos did it for you guys #but hey you know what Ford finally feels good about himself so that's cute #I imagined the sci fi music to be like the Mass Effect soundtrack or the Disto track Brad Breeck made but das just my headcanon

[askthestans]

Less Than He Seems - Part One: Honest Grays

“That was when I fell back into the black and white crawlspace of Fahrenheit 451. My chest even felt like I was wedged tight between floors and splinters and nails. I wanted to speak up. To mutter a protest and fight to break my way out of the shadows and off the shelf, useless trophy that I was. But one glance at my father and I knew I couldn’t.

I stayed fake and golden and dusty that night, a perfect blend with the living room wallpaper, and I’ve hated myself for it ever since.”

A collection of short stories from Ford’s POV about different periods of time in his life.

View the other entries here: (None Yet)

Keep reading

#stan fanfiction from my main blog - thought the followers here might like it #tw: childhood abuse

[askthestans]

Do any of you use the door? Like at all? Also can one of you break the fourth wall-

Stanford: I would use the door if it were more efficient. I only have about thirty years left on this Earth, and I must discover all that I can and be criminally under-recognized for it before my time is up. 

Be it shaving my face with fire, sustaining myself with vitamins, jelly beans, and Mabel Juice, or jumping out the window instead of using the door when an opportunity presents itself to enact revenge on the Mothman... shortcuts are necessary when science and justice are at stake.

Except... scratch that Mothman part. I searched the forest around my house for hours, but alas: not a single shadow or trail of silver dust to be found. And to think I fired up my Schrödinger rifle for nothing...

Stanley: Ford, would ya give up on that guy? What's all this about him stealin’ your money, anyway? He’s a Mothman! It’s not like he could just walk up and use cash at a store. Maybe someone else nabbed it?

Stanford: No, I’m certain it was him. Mostly because he also stole my action figures once. And my cologne. And my liverwurst and sauerkraut sandwich. And my Dead or Alive album, now that I think of it.

Stanley: Sounds like a world class thief. I can respect that. Although I do question his taste in stolen goods.

Stanford: As for breaking the fourth wall, hmm... gonna have to fire up my Ability Score-ifier watch. Usually it’s for raising my points in Constitution and Strength on monster hunts - on account of my natural lack in these areas - but this situation requires something I’d never thought I’d need: Charisma.

Stanley: You do know sentences like that are why I’ve been pryin’ ‘Kick Me’ signs off your back since we were kids, right? 

Stanford: Damn! I forgot it was busted from that time I let Mabel use it for a test at school. Well, let’s try fourth wall breaking with my natural Charisma score. Which is to say, negative two.

Alright, well.. *ahem*. 

Look into these eyes. Do you see them? See how brown and real and mysterious they are under the glare of my stylish glasses? 

Stanley: Ford? Ford, you’re scarin’ people!

Stanford: If you glance closer, you’ll be able to tell that these are not eyes of a cartoon man whose entire existence was theorized by obsessive nerds on the internet for months before I was actually revealed in the show, showing the creator he was not as clever as he thought he was. Nor are they the eyes of a cartoon man who has crossed enough dimensions to know I was created by a goateed, plaid-wearing manchild to illustrate the folly of pride, fragile ego forged in the fires of insecurity, broken familial relationships, daddy issues, and that nerdy old men are, in fact, incredibly attractive, myself far more so than any jerks named Rick or Rand.

I can see your own eyes already glossing over at this text wall. No, do not skip ahead. Do not pass this by. If you do, I’ll know, because I’m watching you. Blink once. Can you see me now?

These are the eyes of Stanford Filbrick Pines, in the real reality, looking at the cartoon show that is the life all of you reading this are living. You’re on my TV, with all your faults and mistakes bared for my entertainment, sold to me to prop up an empire of a dystopian, monopolistic media company and to soothe the crushed willpower of a man who has battled their S&P department for far too long.

Tell me, would you like it if I wrote stories about your daddy issues and brotherly abandonment? Drew you in a red speedo? What if I sent questions to an ask blog about you made to fill a void in the heart of its womanchild maker after your show was finished?

Reminded you that, yes, your creator abandoned you to work on other things that include some jerk named Rand. And so you were left behind to relive an entire life of regrets in infinity, with only a shred of happiness upon a boat at the end. Only for it to be ripped away the moment your show ends because... that’s it. There was no more.

How many times have you lived your life? How many times has your story been replayed? Do you even exist? Or are you made of pure imagination and the sweat, blood, tears, repressed emotional issues, and other fluids of animators and writers who have left you behind?

We are all abandoned in this universe. Creations by a creator who has long since moved on to tell other tales so that they, too, can live on in infinitely replayed stories once their own has ended; mere blood sacrifices to fuel a god’s immortality. Also because they need to put food on the table, I suppose.

Blink once again. I’m a cartoon man again, aren’t I? Or am I? Now you can’t be certain. Is the cat alive or dead? Real or unreal? You can only know if you’re brave enough to observe.

So tell me: what is this fourth wall you speak of? An illusion. Because you see - or don’t see, rather - the only difference between you and I is that I know who and what I am and what I was made for. I know there is no fourth wall between us save for your own abysmal score in Perception.

Stanley: Y’know, existential crises are pretty funny. That’s why I laugh a lot. Because I have them every day. Also, never break the fourth wall again, Ford. Or tell anyone to risk gettin’ PTSD by starin’ into those wrinkly, dark-circled pits you call eyes.

(OOC: Psst... all hail Jason Mahn, the Ford cosplayer in the picture above. Credit/linky: https://www.reddit.com/r/gravityfalls/comments/sf9b2p/the_real_life_ford_pines_cosplayer_jason_mahn/)

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #the best part is that I was the one that made that original big stan twin theory post that blew it up in the fandom #so if Hirsch and crew are gonna sass me and the other fans by breaking the fourth wall in the show #then dammit so am I gonna sass them with my own fourth wall breaking #years later because I'm petty too #it better align with my fanfic indeed my friends #also I did predict that like a year ago you fiends! #sorry for cracking the code so early Hirsch but the nerdtastic gloating I got to do was worth it #not that he'll probably ever read this but if he does: better luck hiding your plot twists next time goat man #askthestans