#he and stan had a fight

[lostrealities0]

I honestly have never understood why this line is so hated. I have seen people use it to villainize Ford. I would like to say that I agree with all of your points. It was completely wrong for him to project his relationship with his brother onto Dipper. He definitely has convinced himself that his and Stan's relationship has always been bad.

We don't know much about how it was in the past. However, it seems that they were always grouped together as a pair. It was always Stan and Ford. Additionally, Stan gives off codependency vibes during the incident, while at the same time, Ford seems very independent. He has zero issues with the prospect of going to a university across the country.

I believe that this dynamic probably caused some issues. While I doubt teenage Ford thought of their relationship as suffocating, I'm sure he got annoyed and/or frustrated at times. He was never seen as his own person; he was just part of a pair. Stan probably loved it, maybe even encouraged it. Remember, it is not wrong to want to be your own person!

Again, I'm not saying that it was right in any way for Ford to say this. At least not to Dipper. This is very much a conversation he needs to have with Stan. What I'm trying to say is that I believe that there is a valid basis and some truth behind that statement and shouldn't be judged point blank.

I think so much about Ford's line "And isn't it suffocating?" when Dipper says he's never been away from Mabel. Side barring how insane it is to project onto a twelve yr old boy, I think it really shows how Ford's perception of his and Stan's relationship has perverted over the forty years they were apart. We know they were close at Mabel and Dipper's age. But Ford's convinced himself that it was always bad, that his brother always had poor intent for him, always held him back, because if that's wrong, if his brother really did make a mistake, then it means he doubted the brother that loved him and he loved in turn.

[paintedcrows]

Had a silly thought about hypothetical cat curse shenanigans with @dark-lord-of-awesomeness's How to Cat Burglar a Family ;)

Bonus doodle!!

[trekkerac]

Wuh oh did they forget that Bill is a threat 👻💀All Frankenghost drawings💀👻

[nenoname]

along with the tv interview, i honestly really prefer the deleted scenes version of scaryoke, but i get why they changed it to show stan working on the portal more and him giving back the journal because he knows there's no way he can keep it hidden from dipper for long

but dangit i want more drama focusing on the journals and author with all the dramatic irony in full force!!!

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Stanley Design

[Art by @tearosepedall]

"Please, you can just call me Stan. Dr.Pines is my brother."

A lot of stuff about Stan is mainly determined by the artist because I don't know anything about the education system, and Stan is a teacher.

Quick facts:

He has a PhD in Chemistry, and a Masters Degree in Education.

Chemistry was the only scientific discipline Stan and Jerk Ford had in common. But Stan's specialty is Analytical Chemistry, while Jerk Ford's specialty was in Biological Chemistry.

His adopted son Soos is a former student, and currently the drama instructor (Stan sometimes works with the theatre department)

Wendy is also former student and his current Teachers Assistant (TA).

He was Gideons teacher the latest school year.

Anyone who grew up in Gravity Falls in the past three and a half decades has had Stan as their teacher at least once

Design Notes:

He's taller than canon Stan and has proper, straight-backed posture. He doesn't slouch.

His hair is long enough he can pull it into a ponytail or a braid. He leans more towards the latter during the summer with the twins because of Mabels love for braid-trains.

During the school year, if he's working at the elementary school instead of the middle or high school, he'll wear different hair clips/pins to amuse the students. During the summer with the twins, Mabel makes little hair clips for him that match the design of her sweater for the day so they can match with each other.

His zodiac symbol is on a hidden necklace.

Stan in the image is using a marker board tap method to get students to quiet down or pay attention to the board.

Sea Grunk Era outfit TBD.

[inkyrainstorms]

The Martian Stan AU - The Beginning

“Is that it?” Stan asked, his voice burning and rising like the coming tide, vicious and overwhelming and inevitable. Ford’s shoulders tightened involuntarily, and he threw his brother as scathing of a glare as he could manage. Couldn’t Stan see that this, Ford’s problems, were important? “You call me all the way here after ten years, just to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?!”

If Ford was any less exhausted, if the hole in his left hand and the hole in his heart  were any less gaping, and the fresh scrapes and cracked fingernails ached any less, he might’ve taken a step back to apologize. To explain that it wasn’t about what Ford wanted, or what Stan wanted. It was about stopping Bill, and saving the world.

If Ford were a different man, he’d reconsider his approach and find a way to fix the chasm that seemed to yawn wider with every word that came out of each of their mouths. But as it was, Ford was not a different man. He couldn’t even fix himself.

So Ford instead felt indignation sting like hot coals in his gut and urge him to step forward, closer to Stanley. His brother took an involuntary half-step back. “Stanley, you don’t understand what I’ve been through!”

“What you’ve been through!” Stan kept talking even as Ford pushed past him, fury etched onto every word like a brand. “No, no, you don’t understand what I’ve been through! I’ve been to prison in three countries, and I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car!”

He got up in Fords face when Ford turned back, his brows drawn low and finger jabbing into Ford’s abdomen. He didn’t realize it, because of course he didn’t, but he’d pressed right into one of the bruises on Fords ribcage from his trip down the stairs earlier that day. Ford grit his teeth and glared back.

“You think you’ve got problems? I’ve got a mullet Stanford!”

Why couldn’t Stan take Fords problems seriously? Was he really cracking jokes at a time like this? 

Ford couldn’t take it anymore. 

Oblivious to the dangerous precipice Fords stability had drawn close to,  Stan got bitterly sarcastic. “Meanwhile where have you been? Holed up in your fancy house in the woods and living it up, selfishly hoarding all—“

Ford went still. If he’d been a slightly different man, a slightly more composed man, perhaps, he’d have fired back another jab at his twin, because how could the man that ruined Fords life and betrayed his complete and total trust call him selfish?

There was a different voice, at a different time altogether too recent and a lifetime ago. His monstrous Muse, his most trusted friend, taking his body on a fucking joyride and then having the gall to look him in the eyes and say “YOU’RE PRETTY SELFISH IQ”. 

Ford had just kept on weeping blood. 

As it was, Stan didn’t get a chance to finish his rant. He was much too busy receiving a solid punch to the face and staggering back against the force of it. For a moment, all was quiet. Ford was shaking, he realized distantly, staring blankly at his brother. His knuckles stung from the impact.

Stan took more time to recover than Ford would’ve thought, but when he finally did, it was with a new layer of dark fury that Ford hadn’t ever seen from him before. Stan lowered the book from where he’d clenched it to his chest, and pulled out a lighter. “Fine.” He whispered roughly, though it echoed in the cavernous room anyway. Louder, then, “Fine! You want me to get rid of it so bad? I’ll get rid of it right now!”

A challenging fire burned in Stan’s eyes, and with a flick, it burned in his right hand too. Ford’s journal dangled above the hungry, all consuming light. 

Ford couldn’t breathe. Every piece of himself he’d had to let go of, that he’d lost to Bill and all that he was giving up to rectify his own mistakes, all to see Stan get rid of part of his life’s work right before his eyes. 

How dare he.

Ford let out a guttural shout and lunged for the book. Stanley, evidently not expecting this, stumbled back and tried to move the lighter before Ford and him could get burned from it in the tussle.

He only partly succeeded. Ford hissed at the momentary new pain shooting up the underside of his hand as he tried to grab for the book and Stan flat out dropped the lighter in response. His brother faltered for a split second, his brow creasing. 

“Sixer, I—“

Ford didn’t let him finish. The second he heard the nickname, some part of him blanked out entirely, and the buzzing in his ears sounded like an angry hornet in his skull. “Don’t,” he grit out, and he’s sure his voice was much too thick and angry and he wasn’t being rational but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Call me that!” 

When Ford lunged for the journal anew, he tackled Stan to the ground as his brother instinctively tightened his own grip on the book. Ford’s book.

“Why not?!” Stan cried out, trying to pry Ford off of him and only succeeding in rolling the two on the ground away from the portal. Ford couldn’t figure out if he sounded more hurt or concerned. The hurricane in his chest kept him from thinking on it too much.

Ford let out a wordless grunt in response, as the two of them, having grappled up to stand, slammed straight through the door and Stan tried to pin him down onto one of the control panels, before Ford managed to gain enough momentum to roll Stan off of him. They were throwing punches and shouting insults they probably didn’t mean, and after a minute long struggle where they surely broke every damn thing in that control room —and good riddance, Ford tried to think but he was too tired to think much at all— Stan had shouted with all the ferocious desperation of a drowning man, “why can’t you listen to me, damnit! You ruined my life!”

Ford had retorted, because of course he did, with “You ruined your own life!” as he finally got a good grip on the book and kicked Stan away with enough force to shove him against the side of one of the control panels. 

Stan’s scream was abrupt and guttural and horrifying. It cut through the haze in Fords mind with all the precision of a scalpel, dropping a rock of dread into his gut. Ford backed away as quickly as he could, and didn’t even register his journal slipping through his slack fingers to land facedown on the ground. He felt sick.

“Stanley! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” 

For a few, horrible, horrible seconds, Stan laid there, slumped and unmoving from where he’d hunched onto the floor. The burn— the brand on his shoulder looked angry and hot against his skin. It had burned clean through his coat and shirt.

Ford took a few hurried steps closer, shaking so hard he could barely walk, when Stan groaned. “Stanley…” he started, but trailed off as Stan pulled himself to his feet. His eyes were darker than Ford had ever seen them before. Stan was shaking too.

“You really want your dumb mysteries that bad?”

And Ford wanted to say, no, no he didn’t, because Stan still held his shoulder stiff as he could and his grip was knuckle-white where he’d used it to brace his arm against his side, because Ford had branded his own twin.

But the words stuck in his throat, because he realized with a start that Stan and him weren’t the ones shaking. The room was. His eyes shot to the portal.

His magnum opus and his curse, his Dadaleus’s Labyrinth, was activating. 

A sudden movement from Stan snapped Fords attention back to his injured, angry brother. Ford took a few cautious steps out of the control room and held up his hands placatingly as Stan advanced. His brother was blocking the doorway, but Ford needed to get in there, he needed to activate the shutdown procedure. “Stan, please,” he said weakly, not sure what exactly he meant. Let me through? Wait? Let me help you?

He didn’t get the chance to find out, though, because Stan continued talking, hefting up the journal he’d evidently picked up from the floor while Ford was distracted. “Well you can have ‘em” Stan said viciously, and Ford could hear the pain in it clear as day as he moved to shove the book into Ford’s hands.

Ford dodged Stan attempt, careful to not touch Stan’s injured shoulder, and weaved around him. “Stan, please, wait.”

Stan laughed, turning around. His grin looked painful. “I’m tired of waiting, Si— Stanford. I really am.”

Ford didn’t have time for this. His heart ached in ways Ford didn’t have the time to decipher as the humming in the room got louder, and he turned to move back to the control room. “Just a moment, Stanley, I just need—“

When Stan latched onto his arm and tried to whirl Ford back around, Ford reacted on pure instinct and deep seated paranoia, that kind that can only be born from aftermath of pure devastation. He followed the momentum and shoved Stan back as hard as he could, turning and sprinting to the control room before Stan could recover and try to stop him again.

“Stanford?”

He never got there. Stan’s voice, suddenly small and scared, ground Ford’s pace to a halt. The humming was louder now, reverberating through his chest. 

“Ford, what’s happening?”

For a terrible moment, Ford didn’t turn around. He just stared at the door of the control room as if he could stop time if he tried hard enough. He didn’t want to see. Seeing made it real. It meant his worst fears had become true, it justified the cold sinking in his chest. 

“Ford!”

Ford whirled around and let out a hoarse cry. There Stanley was, greasy hair floating in a halo around his face, one hand outstretched and the other holding Ford’s journal tight to his chest. Ford had pushed him over the danger line.

The look on his twins face was worse than Ford could’ve ever imagined. 

The anger had drained out of him, the closer he floated to the all consuming blue light of the portal. The was naked terror in his eyes, and he cried out for Ford again.

“Stanley! Hold on, please!” Ford said, before making another break for the control room.

He needed to shut it off right this instant.

“Hold onto what, brainiac!?”

“I don’t know, Stanley! Anything within reach, just don’t let yourself go through the portal.”

Ford input the shut down code. He input it again. He then realized that they’d knocked the cords out of alignment and frantically began adjusting them from where they were wired into the top of the control panel. Shit, they really broke everything in this room, didn’t they?

The third time he input the code, the light flashed green, and the keys made themselves known on a panel adjacent to Ford’s position by the window.

Three keys. Of course. Why did he have to make it three keys, all turned simultaneously?

Metal screeched in the portal room, and when Ford dared to glance up between trying to maneuver himself to turn all three keys, a jolt of horror swept through him and nearly knocked him off his feet. 

Stan has nearly entirely consumed by the light now, clawing at the edge of the portal he’d managed to reach. Ford cursed himself when he realized that the metal plate Stan was holding, as well as  over a dozen others, were loosening to the point of nearly falling off entirely from the main frame. The other objects he’d scattered across the floor of his lab, everything from basic tools like screwdrivers to bigger machine parts floated through the portal at increasingly high speeds.

Ford wouldn’t need to do anything, he realized, and it wasn’t the comfort he wished it was. The portal was destabilizing. Judging by the erratic pulsing the portal light was doing, it’d be closing soon.

Ford ran out of the control room and stopped short just as Stan locked eyes with him again. 

“Stanley!” he called, another desperate idea beginning to form in his panic addled mind as he scanned the room for spare rope and found none. The spare rope from the first portal test must’ve gotten caught in the portals expanding gravitational pull. His brother was barely a shadow in the light now, but Ford knew Stanley had heard him. “If you toss me the journal, I can—“

“The journal?” Stan gasped out, frenzied. “Is that still all you care about!?”

“No, no, if I just had the instructions, I could fix—“ this, fix everything. 

The screeching of metal and thundering of the portal reached a deafening crescendo, and Ford could see Stan open his mouth to interrupt, to say something, assent or argument or—

But Ford didn’t get to find out what Stan would’ve said. A particularly violent jolt shook the metal frame of the portal, and Stan, with a wide-eyed final look that Ford didn’t know how to decipher, slipped.

His brother disappeared into the light just as the portal collapsed in on itself with enough concussive force to send Ford crashing to the ground. He slammed onto his back hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.

Silence fell over the room. It was dark.

Ford stared at the ceiling above him, then dragged his eyes, slowly, painfully, to the portal. 

The deactivated, half missing and half obliterated portal.

For a long, long time, Ford sat in the dark under the full weight of every bruise and scratch and burn he’d sustained, and it was like he was underwater, head swimming with nausea and pain and bewilderment. He was numb. 

A faint plip-plop sound echoed suddenly through the deathly silent basement, and Ford squinted at the sound through his crooked glasses, trying to identify the source. 

A dark substance stained the edge of the portal, right where Stan had been holding on. Ford watched blankly as the liquid slowly rolled along the curve of the portal entrance, before reached a jagged gap in the perfect circle and slipping through. It slid down the jagged and crumpled panels, weaving until it gathered at the tip of a particularly jutting sheet of metal. 

Another drip.

Another.

Ford shifted closer, simply trying to breathe. He pointedly didn’t think about how the other side of the portal had driven Fiddleford to seemingly the brink of madness in moments, he didn’t think about the glimpse into the Nightmare Realm Bill had given him when he first revealed his true hand, and he certainly didn’t think about the final look Stanley had given him, grief and rage and betrayal all rolled into one.

He finally got close enough to see the liquid for what it was. It wasn’t oil, like he’d figured, like he’d hoped and prayed with every inhale and exhale to the gods he didn’t believe in. It was too thick, congealing with familiar splatters on the floor. It was a deep crimson.

Stan must have cut his hand on the metal with how hard he’d been holding it, Ford realized, and the thoughts were the first crack in the dam Ford had buried himself beneath. This was Stan’s blood.

Stan was in the Nightmare Realm, bleeding from one hand and burned on the other shoulder and begging for Ford to do something, asking Ford what was happening because he didn’t know, because Ford didn’t tell him, and—  

It was all Fords fault.

All of it.

Oh Moses.

The dam creaked with warning, a death rattle and a laugh rolled into one, before Ford was swept into the undertow.

Ford had killed his own brother.

All alone in the dark basement with the machine he’d turned into his brother’s grave, Ford buried his burnt, bloody hands in his hair and bowed his head until it hit his knees. All alone, Stanford Pines cried for the first time in years.

Alternate Titles: The Worst Conversation Ever

Or: Ford started disassembling the portal early and everything went to shit accordingly.

Tags! @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @pleasantartisanhottea @empressofsamoyeds @littlelilliana15 @pinefamilycatsau @thejaxindianrizzler (I saw your comment in the og post and it made me laugh cause I was in the middle of working on this when I noticed it) (I hope you don’t mind the tag :))

if I missed anyone I’m sorry about that! The tag is always a fair option to follow too (#martian Stan au)

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

"Ford is intellectually smart and Stan is emotionally smart" is a statement that makes me want to nose dive into academic studies in order to single-handedly redefine the categories of intelligence because that *cant* be right.

[boomposhpow]

whiteboard doodles i did with @starzarer !!!! luv her she’s awesome

[harbingersecho]

florida man

[year2000electronics]

stanford pines is trapped in a prison of writing.

his whole arc is about stepping down from this “special” and “unique” pedestal where only he and the “truly brilliant ones” can change the world, and in stepping down, he learns that he is just like everyone else, not above them and destined for greatness, nor below them and a six-fingered freak.

unfortunately, his reveal being so late in the show means that he spends most of his episodes lurking in the basement, hunting something supernatural, or dumping exposition. in a narrative sense, he cannot escape being this Enlightened Other figure because the story literally doesn’t give him room to breathe.

i think that’s my one big problem with gravity falls’ pacing, honestly. where episodes 14 and 16 bizarrely choose to exclude ford almost-entirely from the wacky shenanigans, and even in episodes like mabelcorn where he plays a role, it’s the story needing to explain ford’s role with bill

i think that’s why so much supplementary gravity falls media talks about ford or comes to us from ford’s perspective (journal 3, segments of the book of bill, lost legends) because ford would otherwise be left as a big exposition device

[shroomerr]

when i saw that @baguantte had opened their commissions i just had to swoop in and take a slot. they did such a lovely job drawing my oc Hanh, so please go check out their stuff if you havent already seen them on the trending on the south park tag!!

[starry-eyer]

comparing elia martell to princess diana is kinda insane

cause the real princess diana of westeros was rhaegar

[kolya-rat]

Made a biblically accurate Kenma playlist because all these mfs be givin him songs by chase atlantic, arctic monkeys, gorillaz, typa shii...

No. He listens to vocaloid and game osts like a LOSER. Specifically early vocaloid songs like triple baka or go google it or dancing samurai. ALSO SPECIFICALLY PSP games back in the early 2000s BECAUSE HE DOES OWN A PSP AND PROBABLY A PS2 BECAUSE THAT WAS THE CONSOLE BACK IN THE DAY. So it'd be games like Kingdom hearts, final fantasy 4/5/6/7, Persona 3 (PORTABLE AND FES.), Mario Galaxy, Majora's mask, Oracle of Ages, Pokemon but like specifically Emerald, Ruby, and Sapphire and BLACK AND WHITE TOO, etc.

He's a fire emblem player too 💀 Specifically Mystery of the Emblem, he was prolly a Nyna simp too 😭

I bet he tried playing the witch's house once and absolutely got shit faced, Ib player too, Mad Father made him ask Kuroo for a sleepover (So did listening to circle you circle you and secrets of wysteria) 🙏 tbf these prolly desensitized him to horror 😕

BRO WAS PROBABLY A CHRONIC PROJECT DIVA PLAYER. LIKE HYPERFIXATES ON GETTING THAT EXTREME PERFECT ON EXTEND.

Dare I say, he was one of the og Danganronpa fans. Prolly a Bloodborne player too, also Doom, Quake, AMERICAN MCGEE'S ALICE?

Loser Kenma is real. His playlist needs to reflect his geekyness 🙏‼️ BRO PROBABLY MEMORIZES THE CHOREO TO POPPIPPO AND LUKA LUKA NIGHT FEVER. HE WAS TOTALLY A LEN STAN TOO 😭😭

[hezuart]

Sorry to disturb you but

I still find hilarious that your LN au got an person so butthurt that they're still ranting about it even till this day

The audacity of you to not include THEIR favorite characters on YOUR OWN AU, completely unforgivable.

Jokes aside, take care and keep up your awesome works!

YEAH,,,,,,, yeah,,,,,,,, I'm - it's a big wow for sur,e ...

Something that bugs me is that, they were complaining that the fandom, outside of drawing Mono and Six, only ever draws Mono and Seven and like.... WHERE!!!SHOW ME!!! that's the entire point I made the comic! There was no art of Seven and Mono!!! They're characters who never meet, so no one ever really drew them together back then, at least, not so thoroughly to explore a dynamic with them. Granted Five / Raincoat girl isn't given the same treatment, but that's because she's from the inferior mobile game! And you couldn't get a read on her personality because there was a lack of cutscenes for her!

They're complaining about a fandom making content that isn't catered towards them, and that's just ridiculous!

Anyway, thank you!!! Almost done lining the backgrounds for the next part of the AU.

[halenhusky309]

Elita-1 in Transformers : One, well, you're just okay. You did your job and fulfilled your role in the movie. But other than that, I don't find you outstanding. You reminded me of black widow from MCU...

Somehow, Bumblebee, with his extremely talkative tendency, kinda charmed me a bit (just a bit) and made some sense because of his circumstances.

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Thinking about how if Shermy Pines. And like, if he is the baby, he’d be born in the 1970s and be 40 by 2012 and he’s already a grandad. He had to be a teen dad in the 80s (after a severe economic recession) and then his kid ended up being a teen parent by 1999 (Which is 8 years before ANOTHER SEVERE ECONOMIC RECESSION LOL)

Also he was born into a pretty broken family, probably rarely if ever saw his brothers. Do you think he ever saw Stanley before he had to start pretending to be Ford? Do you think Ford visited from college??? Because he didn’t seem confident facing his father until he made millions, so like???

And, like, do you think Filbrick and Caryn changed as parents by the time they raised Shermy? Because it seems like a trend that as parents get older they mellow out a bit, so Shermy probably has a completely different experience with their parents then Stan and Ford, and talking to them is just “is this seriously the same parents???” (Imagine the silent resentment that’d cause 😭😭😭)

Personally I headcannon that Shermy had a daughter (Mabel and Dipper’s mom) and not a son like it says on the wiki because c’mon. Can he just have a daughter. Idk why this is important to me but… c’mon. Can he just have a daughter. It just feels right to me.