#Gravity falls stanley pines

[zombi3-candy]

Oh Stanley Pines,The man you are😩😤✨Let’s give our hunky handsome ladykiller here some of the spotlight,cause he deserves our attention too😍🥰✨

[the-universal-sun]

Okay I just thought of something what if Stan regressed after getting his memory waist, because even though everything of Stanley Pines got a waste his mind still knew deep down that the headspace was healing so doing the most mentally traumatic thing that ever happened to him in his life his brain request to his age basically I want to Stanley with no memories

Sorry it took so long to get this out, I got hit by a bout of massive writer's block, but I got through it okay. Deep apologies for how late this is @pinkyshy10 and my other wonderful anon, I know this was requested back in December, but I hope you enjoy reading this! I hope I encapsulated your visions when writing, please let me know if I was off the mark, though! But thank you so so very much for your requests! I enjoyed writing it so much! Fun Fact: I've never watched Treasure Planet before, but it does seem super interesting, so I might give it a try along with the other movies you lovely people suggested that Stan, Ford, and Fiddleford may watch when Little. Please enjoy reading!

And as always, I'm open to helpful comments and critiques on my writing!

Stay warm!

XX

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Stan...

His name is Stan. He knows this, he was told this. But, it feels true, his name is Stan, he's a great uncle to Dipper and Mabel and the twin brother to Ford. His memories aren't all there, very little are, in fact. His niece, Mabel, her scrapbook helped him some, he can remember the summer and the fond emotions attached to the memories. To most of the memories. The brief ones with the man...with Stanford bring an ache to his chest, but he hopes the more he remembers him, the happier the memories will be.

Stan fumbles around in his room, trying to familiarize himself with the surroundings, half formed memories helping him along and silently guiding his steps. He's looking for something, he thinks as he scratches his head, the Fez having been taken off and set aside, something important. But he doesn't know what. More accurately, he can't remember what. He looks around his room again, trying to see if something stands out to him when he spots a lump under the covers of his bed. He grabs the edges of his comforter and pulls it back, revealing a old looking stuffed bear, looking closely he sees it's wearing a little sweater vest. Cute. Is this something he kept from his childhood or something? It's not like he would remember.

He picks up the bear delicately. No, he knows this bear, the memories are there, right in his reach. Ah, this is a gift he got when he was a young man. This is Poindexter, what a nerdy name. Stan sits on the edge of the bed, carefully cradling his stuffy, the action making his head start to go fuzzy. Not bad, not how it is when he's remembering things, but a pleasant sort of fuzzy, one that relaxes his body, making him gently rock back and forth on the edge of the bed. This is nice, he distantly thinks, bringing the teddy up to rub to his and rubbing the ears against his lips. He laughs at the ticklish feeling that brings. He does that for a long time, rocking and rubbing his teddy against his mouth before he grows bored, standing up and stretching. What should he do? He hums and taps his hands as he thinks, he'll go see if there's any cartoons playing this late. Stan doesn’t quite know why he wants cartoons, but nothing else appeals to him right now. He grabs the first blanket he sees, a hand-stitched quilt with teddy bears on the edges, and trudges off downstairs.

The living room is still a mess when he gets there, but the tv is plugged and still works, so Stan settles down in front of it, Poindexter and the blankie-blanket from his room in his lap. He turns the dials over and over again, but he can't find anything bedsides stupid commercials and the news. He's getting more and more annoyed, his breathing going heavy and his mumbling growing louder and louder. He doesn't care about waking everybody up, he wants cartoons, but he's not seeing them. Stan is about to hit the glass in anger when he hears his brother's voice.

"Stanley? What are doing? It's late and you need to rest, you've especially had a long and trying day." Stanford spoke softly, voice confused.

"Cartoons." Stan replied, pointing of the tv it's the one word he can move his tongue around. Why does he find it hard to speak again? Oh yeah-

"What? Stanley there aren't any cartoons even on there." Ford said, confused and more than a little worried for his brother's mental state.

Oh yeah, there aren't any cartoons on. Which is the problem. Stan points to the tv again, staring at Ford. Will he help? Stan just wants to watch cartoons with his Teddy and Blankie and not think of memories or triangles or monsters, he just wants to let himself be-be. Be what? He looks at himself, soft pajamas with cars on them, his teddy bear quilt and Poindexter. His head feels fuzzy, but not as fuzzy as it can get-as he wants it to get. He wants to be-

Small. Ah. That's what it is, he remembers now. Not all of it, but most of it. Sometimes when everything is too much or too loud or too overwhelming, his mind goes smaller. Littler, the internet said he "regresses" and that it can help relax him. And it does, and he likes it, that fuzzy feeling and wanting nothing more than to color and cuddle with his teddy. Except for the times he gets really lonely, wanting his brother here with him. And he is here now, isn't he? And he said he'd take care of Stanley, so that must mean with this too, right? Does Ford know about this? Stan doesn't remember if he does or not, and he can't bring himself to ask, can't get his mouth to work. Instead he just keeps pointing to the tv and looking at is brother, he still wants to watch cartoons.

"Ah-alright, then, Stanley. I can help you find something?" Ford sounds like he's asking a question, sitting next to Stanley and tuning the dials on the box set-the remote was destroyed sometime during Weirdmaggedon. He finagles it with with more success, stopping to let each channel fix and find itself in between the static, having more patience than his brother in this regard. He's about 20 channels deep at this point when the staticky screens stabilizes to a cartoon unfamiliar to Ford, hazy as the screen is. He looks at the screen, it must be after his time, the animation different from what he knew of back in the 80s. What is it-

"Treasure Planet!" Stan loves this movie when he feels small. It has space pirates and ships that move in the sky! Stan especially loves it because it was based on his and Ford's favorite book growing up, Treasure Island, but much cooler because they were also in space. He excitedly pats the space next to him, Ford has to stay and watch this, he'd love it! Stan chants little "stay stay stay"s as he pats the carpet beside him, Ford slowly and softly easing down beside him, tugging gently on the corner of Stan's teddy blankie to cover him. He doesn't need to, because Stan huddles in close, practically on Ford's lap, and spreads the blanket over both of them, Poindexter still gripped in his hands.

Stan, now that he has his cartoons and has his brother, blankie, and Poindexter, is more than willing to let the fuzzy in his head take over, relaxing into Ford's side, bringing Poindexter's ear back up to his mouth-he's not gonna chew on it, just rub it on his lips, that's all. Like before.

"Treasure Planet, hmm? Sounds kind of like Treasure Island, do you remember that book, Stanley? It was our favorite-!" Stan slaps a hand over Ford's mouth to make him quiet-shushing someone was rude, said Ma', but Ford was talking and Stan didn't want to miss any of the movie-luckily it was just starting so he didn't miss much. He cuddles closer to his brother, wrapping his hand, now free after Ford removed it, around his twin's arm, practically crawling in his lap and rocking softly, easy rocking to help soothe his excitement. He loved Treasure Planet so much, and now Ford can watch it and love it, too, so he's extra excited!

"Okay, Okay, Stanley, I'll be quiet. Sorry." Ford softly whispered, starring at Stan, who was enraptured by the television screen, with a soft look that bordered on confusion, he doesn't exactly understand what's happening, and hopes it's not a side-affect of the memory gun. But Stanley seems to happy and relaxed, something he hasn't seen in near 40 years, so whatever his concerns are, they can wait until the morning. Ford settles down, wrapping an arm around Stanley, softly rubbing his back, and turns his attention back to the movie. It does seem very interesting.

[patisnothome]

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ||

A/n: Reader is Pacifica (can be biological or not, looks are not described)

Stan wasn’t proud of it, but he was staring. Hard.

It wasn’t like he meant to—hell, he’d braced himself for a lot of things when he saw Y/N Northwest again. Shock, fear, maybe even that cool, detached scrutiny you were so damn good at. But this? This he hadn’t been prepared for.

You stood before him, poised as ever, your hair swept into an elaborate style that left a few elegant curls cascading over your shoulder. The deep emerald of your gown hugged your figure in a way that made something in Stan’s stone chest tighten, the rich fabric shimmering faintly under the dim lights of the forest clearing. Every movement was deliberate, controlled, effortless.

God, you moved like a queen.

And maybe that was what did it. The way you carried yourself—like you owned the ground you walked on, like you knew you could command attention with the smallest of gestures. Stan had spent a lifetime bullshitting his way through high society, tricking people into thinking he belonged in places he had no business being. But You? You didn’t try to fit in—you just did.

And it was really messing with him.

Stan shifted, trying to ignore the way his wings twitched involuntarily behind him. He was a seven-foot-tall gargoyle, for crying out loud. He had claws, fangs, glowing eyes, and actual wings. He was supposed to be the intimidating one here.

But you? You just looked at him like he was something worth admiring.

“Y’know, I don’t get it,” Stan muttered, trying so hard to sound casual, even as he felt the heat creeping up his neck (could gargoyles even blush? Because it sure as hell felt like he was blushing). “Most people would take one look at me and run the other way. But you? You’re lookin’ at me like I just walked outta some fancy cathedral.”

You tilted your head slightly, considering him, and damn if that didn’t make something in his stomach flip.

“Maybe that’s because you remind me of something ancient and enduring,” you said, stepping closer. The faintest, knowing smile played at your lips. “Something carved from stone, meant to watch over and protect.”

Stan swallowed hard. “You’re makin’ it sound a whole lot prettier than it is, sweetheart.”

You hummed, your gaze slowly trailing over him, taking in the rough texture of his arms, the faint glow of his amber eyes, the massive span of his wings. And then—because apparently you had no mercy— reached out and traced a slow line along his bicep with your fingertips.

Stan tensed. His heart, which he was pretty sure shouldn’t even beating right now, did something very stupid.

“You don’t see it, do you?” You murmured, your touch feather-light against the cracks in his stone skin. “How powerful you look. How striking.” You let your fingers trail down to the edge of his forearm before finally pulling away. Biting your lip, you ran your tongue slowly over your lip. "How strong."

Stan exhaled through his nose, loudly. “Lady, if you keep talkin’ like that, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you got a thing for scary monsters.”

You smirked, your eyes practically glowing with mischief. “Who says I don’t?”

Stan’s wings jerked back in an involuntary flick, and he immediately scowled, stepping away before you gave him too many feelings at once.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his very solid, very stone chest in a weak attempt to regain control. “Next thing I know, you’re gonna start gettin’ ideas about climbin’ onto my back and ridin’ around like some kinda fairytale princess.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Would you let me?” You got close as you possibly could to the man, your hand on his chest batting your eyelashes up at him.

Stan choked.

Meanwhile, hidden behind a very inadequate hiding spot, Mabel was vibrating with pure joy, clutching Pacifica’s arm.

“I told you!” she whisper-shouted. “She’s totally into the monster thing!”

Pacifica, who had not been prepared for this, groaned. “Great. Now I have to live with the knowledge that my elegant aunt is flirting with a gargoyle.”

Mabel grinned, eyes shining. “You’re welcome.”

Pacifica let out another groan, wondering why she was friends with Mable.

[lovemesomeagnst]

MORE CARMEN SANDIEGO X GRAVITY FALLS SCREENCAP REDRAW

Part one here

i love his face

[such-a-daydreamer]

Based off of this tweet

Frankenstan ghost au by @trekkerac

[aaahhhmalpa]

[samo-nkey]

Stupid stupid doodle inspired by my disc convos

And Stanny Fresh.

[dannnyghost]

Drew one of my favorite scenes in O Brother god they make me cry

And various other doodles

[camenxi]

thinking about what if bill visited stan a few months after the ford-portal accident and he sees stan being the most miserable pathetic depressed grieving man who just chugged his 8th bottle of beer looking absolutely sleep deprived and a mess and bill considers it hot as fuck

[wilsonmybeloved]

heard we were fiddlestanning

you know the drill..

(full image under cut)

[itsmejxstxr]

"Buy Flippy! Only $100! No refunds!" - Stan

Bored while scrolling on Facebook and saw this figurine and reminding me of Stan, so I drew him 🤣😭

[orbinpng]

I wanna wrap yer little chibi Stan in a blanket and give him cookies and anything else to keep him from being sad

he's ok i promise (mabel made the blanket for the tiny stan)

should i draw comics for small stan... i think it'd be fun <3

[patisnothome]

So, a gravity falls au where Bill is in the real world (our universe) with Alex, using his creativity to spread his message, and actually HATES Ford, never liked him.

He plays a sympathetic narrative and uses the show / ships as a tool for attention and getting people to engage with the fandom, viewing it as a cult.

Has this even been done before?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

What are the Stan twins reactions to a reader who cries during sex (because of pleasure, not anything bad)?

•Stanley Pines•

Thinks he did something wrong and stops the act, Stan honestly thinks he is hurting you and he doesn't want that. That is the last thing that Stan wants, so he starts looking you over.

His hands cupping your cheeks as he starts to apologize over and over.

It took you a moment to realize what was actually going on. A soft laugh leaving your lips as you cupped the mans cheeks doing your best to reassure him that he was in fact not hurting you.

That he was making you feel good, he can't help but have his confidence boost a little knowing that he fucks you so well that you get tears in your eyes.

•Stanford Pines•

He knows, oh does he know what that means seeing those tears slide down your cheeks and god does he like it.

Ford loves to tease you to the point where you are begging for a release. He loves to hear your little whimpers of pleasure as he fucks you.

He knows just how to make you beg and sob, Ford loves to kiss your tears away. He of course makes sure that you really are crying from pleasure. He doesn't like knowing he is hurting you.

You mean to much to him, you're so important to him.

[whatever-i-dontknow]

Stan would be a whore for back scratches from his partner. He's always asking for them. He doesn't even have to say he wants them, he'll just stand close to you with his back turned and you just know what he's asking for. If you don't immediately start scratching he'll look back at you like "You gonna scratch my back or what? It's not gonna scratch itself babe 🙄."

If you stop scratching, he'll say "Hey! Where're ya goin'? Who told ya to stop? Get back here and finish scratchin' me! I can't reach it 🥺!"

He's such an old fart