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savetheearthbros · 4 years

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"why did you lie to me?" fiddlestan

this is a lot longer and a lot more angsty then i meant it to be but enjoy!!

Tw:

Blood, scars, abuse mention

It had been three months since Stan had arrived in Gravity Falls. Three months since he pushed Ford into the portal in the basement. Three months without being able to sleep. Two months since he started giving tours of Ford's house. Three more months for self hatred to add to the ten years he had under his belt.

He spent all of his free time out in the town looking for the other two journals. In the forest, near the lake, he even got yelled at by the police for lurking around the elementary school. He’d looked all around the town and came home empty handed every single time.

The snow on the ground was finally melting as he was looking for spare parts in the junkyard. He pulled scraps of metal off one another looking for anything that could possibly help with the portal.

He opened the hood of one of the many cars that scattered the junkyard only to find a gnome starring him in the face. The gnome hissed at him before scampering off. Stan just rolled his eyes and continued looking for parts from the car.

“Stanford?” he heard a voice behind him say nervously. He turned around quickly putting on the persona he used for tours.

“Yes?” he said, trying to put more confidence behind his words then he had. He turned to see a tall thin man who looked like he had been through hell and hadn’t slept for a week afterwards. His hair was a mess, he had bruises scattering his arms, and a glazed over look in his eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked the stranger who only chuckled in response.

“So that’s how it’s going to be. Just gonna pretend you don’t know exactly why I’m here.” The man threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “I don’t know how to deal with you anymore, Ford.”

“Look man, I honestly don’t know what you want from me.” The man pushed him back a lot harder than Stan thought someone of his size could manage. Stan fell against the car behind him.

“You’re an asshole, you know that! You spend months working on that portal refusing to let anyone near the house and then all of sudden I leave and you open the place up?” He knew about the portal? “You ruined my life and that’s when I decided enough was enough? Not when I stayed up for three nights straight writing up the work we’ve done in gravity falls? Not when I begged you to shut down the portal?” The man was crying now, clinging onto the front of Stan's coat.

Stan stared at the man crying in front of him. He knew something about the portal and from the sounds of it he knew Ford pretty well. He needed his help. Stan racked his brain for something he could say to get the man to help him.

“Hey looks… I'm sorry , ok?” the man looked up at a wide eyed Stan. Stan paused for a second trying to come up with an excuse that Ford could have for doing whatever he did to apparently ruin this man's life. “I just got stuck in my research, you know?” the man chuckled dryly.

“‘I got stuck in my research, I could taste the end result and i didn’t want to let it go’ isn’t that what you told me when i got attacked by the gremloblin?” Stan nodded wondering what a gremloblin is in the back of his head. “Come up with a better fucking excuse then that, you mother fucker!”

I can’t let him leave. I need his help. Stan thought to himself before grabbing the man's arm. “Please… I need your help.” The man pulled his arm out of Stan's grasp.

“Of course you do! Why else would you even be talking to me? Why the fuck would you be anywhere fucking near me! You only ever want me when you need my help!” the man screamed. His voice gives out every so often. What had happened to him?

“You know that’s not true.” Stan assured him, against his own knowledge trying to fix the situation.

“No? Then name a fucking time Stanford. You only wanted me when you needed help with the portal or you wanted to pretend someone loved you! Guess what, Stanford? I did love you! I loved you more then anything and you just fucking used me! I left my wife and gave up my son for you! And you just threw me away!” Stan just stared at the man, unable to comprehend exactly what was happening.

“You… loved me?” he ended up asking under his breath. The man ran a hand through his hair and chucked again softly.

“No, Stanford. I just gave up everything to be with you. And I've spent every night with you since I arrived here. I just chose to sleep in your bed rather than mine. I just kissed you ever possible opportunity I possibly could just fucking because.” Stan looked at the man shocked.

Stanford and this crazy guy standing in front of him had been dating? He always knew Ford was gay but really were his standards really this low? To go for some crazy lunatic that doesn’t look like he’s showered in weeks.

“But if you have to ask it just proves to me you were using me.” Think Stanley! he told himself ``you're losing him “It doesn’t matter, anyways. I’m done with you.” The man turned to walk away and before Stan could think he grabbed his arm and pulled him into a kiss.

It was the only thing he could think to do. The man clearly loved Stanford and the best way to get his help is to use his feelings against him. He knew it was a shitty thing to do but it’s not like he hadn’t done it before.

The man froze for a second before melting into the kiss and threading his fingers in Stan's hair. Stan wrapped his arms around the man's waist to pull him in. the man made a content noise against Stan's lips before pulling back to catch his breath. He looked down sadly and dropped his hands to Stan's shoulders.

“You know this doesn't prove anything right? This is just another way you decided to use me...” he trailed off at the end of new tears following the trails left by the past dried ones.

“Please.” Stan mumbled softly under his breath. “I need you.” It was true. He might not have needed him in the same way as Ford did but he did truly need him. He was the only he could possibly get help from. The man looked up into Stan's eyes before sighing softly.

“Fine. But you have to promise me that Bill is gone and ain’t coming back.” Bill? Who was Bill? Was he another guy Ford knew? Did he cheat with him? Is that how Ford ruined this man's life?

Stan thought for a second before answering “Bill is gone for good. I don't want anything to do with that monster after what happened.'' Stan saw hope flicker in the man's eyes only for a second before he leaned in and kissed Stan softly.

“It’s just us again.” the man confirmed. Stan nodded. This was going to be easier than he thought. This man was talking his word as gospel. Pretending to be Ford was gonna be a sinch even with this guy around.

“Should we go back to the house then?” Stan asked and to his delight the man nodded. The man started walking in the direction of the shack and stood close behind him.

There were still a few problems that Stan was going to have to figure out. For instance if this man was truly wanting to start a relationship with him he’d have to figure out the six fingers thing. And he was going to have to figure out how far he was willing to go for this project because the man was going to want to have sex eventually. What were his excuses for not doing it for long amounts of time or ever at all? But most importantly how was he going to figure out his name.

Fidds had been living with him at the shack for 24 hours now and he’d been hiding his hands in every way possible while he tried to figure out what to do about them. He finally decided on what he was going to do but he dreaded it.

He sat at Ford's desk staring at the knife in front of him trying to work up the courage to slice the sides of his hands.

“Come on Stan you can do this. You’ve had to go through worse stuff than this. This is just self inflicted.” He tried to force a laugh to convince himself he was fine but it just came out broken.

He pulled out his lighter from his pocket. The most convincing way to do this would be to cauterize the wound afterwards but god was it going to hurt. He picked up the knife and held it against the outside of his pinky and took a deep breath.

Later in his life Dipper and Mabel would ask about the scars and he would make something up off of the top of his head about a bear fight.

The conversation with the man went well. He was heartbroken that Stanford would do that but apparently when Ford got drunk for the first time with Fidds he had taken a knife to this extra finger so it wasn’t hard for the man to swallow.

He was running out of nicknames he could call the man without sounding suspicious and he needed to find a way to figure out his name. He had been writing words on a page in random order pretending to work on something for almost an hour when he had a brilliant idea.

He looked up the man sitting across the table from him. “What’s your name again?” the man looked up in shock and for a second stan doubted his decision.

“Fiddleford?” he paused as he watched stan write it down “How can you not remember my name? We’ve known each other since college and we’ve dated for three years.” The heartbreak in Fiddleford's voice was enough for Stan to scramble for an explanation.

“I meant your last name! I just figured I’d write it down anyways since I needed it too.” Fiddleford relaxed in his seat, but he still seemed on edge.

“You should know my last name too. '' he pondered. “Esspecically since you agreed to take it the second gay marriage becomes legalized.” he added jokingly. They both laughed at that idea for a second before Stan added

“I was asking how to spell it.” Fiddleford laughed softly

“It’s like bucket but with ‘mc’ in front of it” he answered before returning to the computer he was tinkering with in front of him

“McBucket?” Stan asked, writing it down as he said it out loud. Fiddlford laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Yes my name’s Fiddleford McBucket. Nice to meet you.” Stan looked up at him expectly “McGucket you nerd. You better learn it soon because even if we can’t get married you promised me you’d be Stanford McGucket by 1990.” Stan jerked his head up from where it had been while he was writing and Fiddleford seemed to get a good laugh out of it. “You did! You were drunk but you did.”

Ok so get the portal up and running before 1990 Stan thought to him shit the portal. I gotta ask about that “hey um” he trailed off thinking of the right words to say “how would you feel about helping me get the portal operational again?”

Fiddleford looked up at Stan, fear coloring his features. All the blood had drained from his face and his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “No.” he snapped, Stan's face fell as he realized this was going to be the hardest part of all of this.

“Why not?” he asked. He was sincerely hoping the man would say something easy to fix like ‘we don't have the right tools’ or ‘you have to secretly be your own twin brother posing as Stanford’ but the chances of that were slim.

“Because I almost died trying to get that machine up and running and I don’t want to have to go through that again.” He looked down at the computer. No longer tinkering with it just staring at it.

“I promise we’ll be safer with it. I won’t let it happen again. I just need to get it opened.” Fiddleford looked up at him and sighed.

“Fine but I'm out of here the second it stops working.” Stan had to hide his excitement. He didn’t want Fiddleford to think he was using him, despite the fact that he was.

“You’ll come back when I shut it down, right?” he asked honestly, not caring about the answer.

Fidds looked up at him and smiled lovingly at him. Stan didn’t want to admit it but it made his heart skip a bit with how loving he was. “Of course I will.” he grabbed Stan's hand from across the table “You’re stuck with me for good this time.”

Stan couldn’t help but smile at the comment. He stroked Fiddleford’s hand with his thumb and tried not to think about the fact that Fiddleford thought he was holding hands with Stanford and not him.

Stan had traveled around the country for ten years of his life. He thought himself to be a well cultured man. Someone who could deal with pretty much anything. But that was before he walked in on Fidds sitting on the ground with what looked like a funky gun to his head.

“Fidds. What’re you doing? What-” He stopped himself before asking what it was. He was sure Stanford would know and therefore he couldn’t ask. Fidds dropped the gun from his temple and looked up at Stan. His eyes were puffy and red and he was trembling. Before Stan knew it he was sitting on the ground next to him pulling him into a hug.

“I'm sorry for I know you told me to destroy this and I'm sorry I just couldn't. I just want to forget… the memories of that thing you worked with… the memories of Bill… they just keep popping up. I just want to forget...“ he sobbed against Stan's shoulder. Stan didn’t understand any of it but if Ford thought it was dangerous it probably was.

He held out his hand silently asking for the gun. Fidds pulled it into his chest like it was a teddy bear. “Fidds, please.” Stan begged softly. Fiddleford reluctantly hands over the gun and stands, sets it down on the ground behind him and pulls Fidds into the hug again.

“Whatever happens, I'll protect you. I promise.” Stan assured. He wanted so badly to have meant it. He wanted to be there if Fidds ever had to face Bill. Hell he wanted to rip Bill apart piece by piece, but he knew one day he was going to be one of the things Fidds wanted to forget so badly.

It had been a year since he had started working with Fidds. Everything had gone smoothly since the incident with the gun, which Stan now kept in the basement under lock and key. Fidds had started working shifts with Stan and the tours of the house. He complained about it at first but grew to love it over time. They spent everyday working together, every evening working on the portal, and every night curled up in their bed together.

Stan was the closest he had been to happiness in years. He had everything he ever wanted. There were only two problems. His brother was still trapped on the other side of the portal and his boyfriend was only dating him because he thought he was his brother. Stan tried to ignore those facts unless he had too.

They haven't made much progress with the portal and everyday that Ford wasn’t on their side of the portal he got more scared that he wasn't coming back. He tried to push that thought from his mind whenever he could but it was hard to forget when that was the only reason he was doing what he was.

“Ford?” Fidds asked from behind him, tearing Stan from his thoughts. “I have bad news.'' Stan's heart skipped a beat and he turned around. “Your father passed away...” Stan tried not to sigh out of relief. Thank god it wasn’t something with the portal.

“Ok.” he said calmly. “Thank you for telling me” He turned back to his work unphased by the news. Fidds came up behind him and rested his hands on stnas shoulders.

“You’re allowed to be upset.” He assured as he started to rub his shoulders. Stan leaned back into the contact. It never really crossed his mind that Ford might have taken the news badly. He didn’t know Ford's relationship with their father. He decided this was going to be one of those times that we talked more as himself then as Ford.

“Good riddance honestly.” he huffed. Fidds took a step back and Stan sighed softly at the lack of contact “Hey, I was enjoying that '' he turned around to face Fidds who looked extremely upset. “What’s wrong F?”

“What’s wrong is you should be more upset!” Oh, shit! Ford did have a good relationship with their father. “You and your dad talked constantly! What changed?” Stan didn’t have a good answer. He was trying to dig himself out of a pretty deep hole. So instead of talking he just shrugged.

“Man’s always been an ass it just got worse when I started the tours.” Fidds didn’t seem satisfied with that answer but he dropped it anyways. He probably thought that Stan would come to his senses and admit to his feelings but honestly Stan couldn’t care less that the old guy was dead. He had beat him and Ford their whole lives and kicked him out over a stupid mistake.

He wondered why Ford had kept up to date his dad. He wondered if he had forgiven him for everything he did to them as children. Then again Ford didn't get beat nearly as often or as bad. Maybe it was easier for Ford to brush it off. Maybe he forgave his dad when Stan was kicked out.

That thought made Stan’s blood go cold. Stanford might have fixed his relationship with his father because he kicked him out. Maybe Ford just wanted Stan gone.

He couldn't get himself to work on the portal that night. Instead he and Fidds just watched mindless tv until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Stan has screwed up. He had screwed up big time. He didn’t think he would ever be able to dig himself out of this hole.

Fidds and his relationship had been going great for the last year and a half. They were comfortable with each other, So it was no wonder that Fiddleford wanted to be intimate. But Stan had issues with that idea. For starters, he’s not the person Fiddleford wanted to have sex with and the idea of having sex with someone who thought you were your brother wasn’t the most appealing thought.

But when Fiddleford started kissing his neck and sliding his hands under his shirt while they were watching some random romcom Stan had a hard time holding back. He pulled Fidds into his lap and kissed him until they both were breathless. He pulled off Fidds’s shirt and kissed down his chest. He wanted nothing more than to worship Fidds and never let go of him.

Fidds threaded his fingers in Stan's hair and pulled him up by it, earning a moan from Stan. Fidds pulled him into a kiss and pulled his shirt over his head. If Stan would have been thinking he would have stopped him. He would have told him he wanted to stop. Anything to get him not to take his shirt off but he wasn’t thinking. He was drunk off Fidds's kiss.

Fidds kissed his neck and ran his hands over Stan's chest before stopping abruptly and looking down at the myriad of scars scattering Stan's torso. Scars that Ford didn’t have. Fidds brow furrowed, trying to figure out what he was seeing. He looked up at Stan looking for the answer. Stan didn’t have one.

“You didn’t have any of these last time.” he stated. “And there’s no way you could have gotten some of these without me knowing” he ran his fingers over a bullet wound scar on the side of Stan’s torso. “So what the hells going on Stanford?”

Stan swallowed. He didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t a good enough lie that could get him out of this. He was panicking. He tried to say something but he could only stutter out ‘um’s and ‘well’s.

Fiddleford stood up. Stan expected to find anger but all he saw on Fidds’s face was confusion. He wished more that he could lie himself out of this situation but he couldn’t see a way out. So he settled with honesty.

“I’m not Ford. And I haven't been for awhile.” Fidds laughed softly. Clearly trying to convince himself this was a joke.

“You have to be Ford. I mean who else would you be? I mean look at you!” Stan looked at him sadly. Realization hit Fidds like a truck. “Stanley...” he said softly “Stanford used to mumble that in his sleep… I always figured it was the brother he used to talk about. I never thought it could be his twin.” Stan stood up, reaching for Fidds’s hand. Fidds pulled his hand away like he had been burned.

“You lied to me!” he screamed. Stan only looked down and nodded at the ground in response. “Why?” Stan looked up unsure of how to answer “Why did you lie to me?” he yelled tears now streaming down his face.

“There was an accident,” Stan tried to explain. “Ford ended up on the other side of the portal. I need your help to save him.” fidds only stared at him in shock.

“You mean to tell me you’ve been Ford since the portal broke?” he snapped. Stan nodded again and Fidds laughed dryly, tears streaming down his face. “It’s been almost two years! You’ve been pretending to be Ford for almost two years!” he was sobbing in between his words. Stan wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him everything was going to be ok.

“Fidds I’m sor- '' Stan was cut off but Fidds’s fist collided with his nose. He fell back onto the ground holding his nose. He looked up at Fiddleford whose expression had gone dark.

“Dont fucking apologize to me!” he screamed “You. Lied. To. Me. For. Two. Fucking. Years.” He kicked Stan in the stomach after every word.

Stan took each blow. He deserved it. Fidds didn’t deserve to be lied to, let alone for two years. Stan looked up at Fidds, tears mixed with blood from his nose dripping down his face.

Fidds kicked him in the jaw before leaning down and grabbing his shirt off the floor. “Stay the fuck away from me you hear? I don't want anything to do with you.” He stormed out of the house slamming the door behind him.

Stan turned so he was on his back and staring at the ceiling. He made no move to get up for hours. He just stared into space and thought about everything that had happened in the past year and a half. He regretted all of it and yet he regretted none of it. He regretted hurting Fidds but he never wanted to give up the memories they had made together.

Stan sobbed as he realized he had fallen in love with Fidds over the year and a half they had known each other. The love of his life now wanted nothing to do with him and it was all his fault.

When he did get up he got a stack of napkins for the bleeding and headed down into the basement to bury his face in work and try to forget about the man he loved all but spitting in his face.

Dipper and Mabel had been living in Gravity Falls for over three months now. Ford had come out of the portal , Weirdmageddon had already come and gone, and their birthday was coming up soon. Dipper had solved all of the mysteries he had wanted to solve but one of the mysteries Mabel was trying to solve never came to be.

Why did Grunkle Stan seem so sad whenever he looked at Old Man McGucket?

#gravity falls #fanfic #fan fictions #Stanford pines #Stanley pines #fiddleford mcguckets #fiddauthor #fiddlestan #kind of?#idk #tw scars #tw abuse mention #tw punching #tw blood #tw depressing thoughts #lying #dipper pines #mable pines #old man mcgucket

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nour386 · 6 years

Note

9 with old fiddlestan

You wanted old boys? I got you old boys!

9. Our first dinner party

Prompt List (not taking prompts right now)

There was a large crash and the smell of slightly burnt confetti filled the air. Giving a small sigh, Stanley leaned out of the kitchen to see what trouble his family was causing now. To his surprise,, it was his boyfriend who offered him an innocent smile from behind his trimmed beard.

“I thought I’d help the youngin’s with the decoratin’,” Fiddleford said, putting away the jumbo sized party popper.

“Fidds, ya gave me half a heart attack,” Stan complained. He gave a small pout.

“Sorry, darlin’. I think I might leave the decoratin’ to the professionals,” Fiddleford said, walking over to the kitchen. “Maybe I can help ya in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, some focus on the dinner part of a dinner party would be nice,” Stanley said, raising his voice to make sure the rest of his family in the living room could hear his unsubtle message.

Chuckling at the slight guilt that crossed the faces of Mabel, Dipper and Stanford in the other room Fiddleford walked into the kitchen. “Yer being too harsh on ‘em,” he said.

“Yeah?” Stan asked, walking into the kitchen to check how his roast was going.

“Ya did ban ‘em all from interfeerin’ with yer cooking,” Fiddleford pointed out. He took a seat on the kitchen table and watched Stan get to work making some rice.

“For good reason,” Stanley replied, pouring some boiling water onto the rice. “They’re all cooking hazards.”

“What about Soos and his grandmother?” Fiddleford asked.

“She’s been cooking most of our meals while we’re stayin’ over here. I thought I’d let her have the night off,” Stan said. He put a lid on the rice and quickly moved over to the next pot that needed his attention.

"Ya want some help?" Fiddleford asked with an innocent smile.

"Are you gonna add roadkill to my stew?" Stanley asked.

"Not anymore," Fiddleford said. "I was thinkin' more you tell me what you need help with and I fix it up for ya."

"Yeah, no, that's fair," Stan said. He took a large spoon and scooped some of the stew he was cooking. "Taste this for me," he said, pointing the spoon in Fiddleford's direction.

Fiddleford got down from the table and took the offered bite of stew. Using his tongue he swished it around his mouth, tasting the stock while chewing the vegetable and meat chunks. "It could do with some salt," he said,alking over to the old coffee jar that was filled with salt.

"That sweet?" Stan asked, licking the spoon himself.

"You also made the vegetable bits too big," Fiddleford said, pouring a couple of tea spoons from the jar into the pot. "They're still pretty firm."

"Ugh, nothing to do about that now," Stan groaned, giving the pot a quick stir

"It's not the end of the world." Fiddleford said.

"I know that much. We've been through the end of the world. Remember?" Stanley teased.

"Never mind all that," Fiddleford said, mimicking Mayor Tyler’s tone of voice.

“You’re terrible,” Stanley smirked. He tasted another bite of the stew. “Here, try this.”

Fiddleford took the offered bite and hummed as he ate. “That’s better,” he smiled. “Actually, maybe a pinch of moon shine could fix it up.”

“I know you love your moonshine, Fiddlesticks. But I’m not lettin’ the kids get drunk.” Stan said firmly.

“But I made it specially for ya,” Fiddleford whined.

“We could always have our own little dinner party after party,” Stanley said with a devious smirk.

“Stanley Pines you are a tease.” Fiddleford pouted.

“But you love me anyway.” Stan smirked, leaning forward and gently kissing his boyfriend’s forehead.

A crash sounded form the other room, followed quickly by an optimistic “I’m okay!”

“I think we might need someone to watch over the others,” Fiddleford said, looking towards the door.

“Nah, they’ve got Ford with them. They’ll be fine,” Stanley said, lowering the stove’s flame from a strong boil to a light simmer.

“That’s a good point,” Fiddleford said.

“And if worst comes to worst they’ve got Melody there,” Stan said looking to the rice.

“Fairpoint,” Fiddleford said, walking over to Stan.

He gingerly wrapped his hands around his boyfriend's waist while he worked on the food. Gently he kissed the back of Stan’s neck, who hummed happily as he turned off the flame under the rice. Stan turned around and picked up Fiddleford in his arms.

“Looking forward to the dinner party?” Stan asked.

“I’ve had enough of the party for now. I’m looking forward to the dinner part,” Fiddleford said, planting a kiss on Stan’s cheek.

“We’ll get there soon,” Stan promised, leaning forward to kiss Fiddleford’s lips. “We’ll get there soon.”

#Fiddstan #Fiddlestan #Stanley Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Old Man McGucket #Grunkle Stan #Writing #fanfic #writers on tumbr #mine #howl-osullivan

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siodymph · 7 years

Text

Fiddlefest! Friendship/Family

And here is my last prompt for Fiddleford's month! I just want to say real quick all the stories and art I've seen for this event have been so cool and amazing! Go check it all out on the official blog it you haven't already!

And one last reminder all day today and tomorrow I'm accepting any Fiddleford requests if you have them (I'm also happy to write any fiddauthor or fiddlestan if you like those ships!) After the 7th though I'm moving on!

Thank you so much fr reading all my stories for Marchgucket and I hope you enjoy this last addition! (you can read it under the cut or over on my ao3)

Time seemed to be a fickle thing for Fiddleford McGucket. Years he spent without a memory sometimes only felt like it lasted a few months and now in his first year of remembering it felt like things went so painfully slowly. It might have been due to his recollection perhaps now that he had a stronger grip on time he was more conscious of it.

Or maybe it was because of how much he missed the Pines family. Just before leaving he and Stanford had admitted their feelings for one another still existed and now they were having a long-distance relationship over phones and screen monitors. Stanford and his brother, niece and nephew all promised to be back next summer and Fiddleford found he kept counting down the days no matter how much he tried not to. Today marked the final month before Stanford and Stanley would be back, and a month and a half until the kids came back. It was so close yet so far off.

He thought himself lucky at least, that he had so many people in his life now. To not only miss and know they would be back soon, but also living here with him and visiting all the time.

Every Sunday evening since last summer he’d always been invited down to the mystery shack for dinner and anime with Soos and his girlfriend, Melody. They made a sweet couple and ran the old mystery shack together as a team. And while Fiddleford didn’t often visit the Shack during their working day there was an energy, a welcoming vibe that grew there now that hadn’t really existed before under Stan’s ownership. As for their anime get-togethers, they had started a little pattern after a few happy accidents that had become a tradition now. Melody and Soos would make one half of their dinner and Fidds would bring the second half. If they made sandwiches, Fiddleford would whip up soup to dip’em in. They made meatballs, he’d bring over the spaghetti and sauce. One time they’d cook some pork chops and Fiddleford had brewed up an apple sauce to spread on it. That had been a good one. They’re weekly meet ups were always something he could look forwards to and enjoy. They reminded him a lot of the old family dinners he would have as a kid, potlucks where everyone cooked together and ate together.

Mabel’s two friends, Candy Chiu and Grenda Grendinator, also became frequent visitors. Both of them loved to admire his work with giant fighting robots, Candy had even told him she wished to become an engineer too when she grew up. Fiddleford had been all too happy to start teaching her everything he’d learned over the years. And Candy proved to be a wonderful student, a protégé actually. Her photographic memory was amazing to see in person, rewireing panels on her robot purely from memory of how Fiddleford had showed her over a week prior. And she had Grenda both had such wonderful, vivid imaginations it was never dull having a conversation with the two. There wasn’t a single doubt in Fiddleford’s mind that the two girls wouldn’t shake up the world when they got a little older, they had such amazing ideas and he couldn’t wait to see how they made their ideas possible realities in the future.

And then there was Tate. His dear lil’ Tate. He gotten some forgiveness from his son at last. They had a long talk face to face. It had been awkward, uncomfortable and made Fiddleford relive some shame he’d made himself forget for years. But it was an important step in them rebuilding their relationship, no matter how painful it might be. Talking came much easier for both of them the more they tried. And now he lived here in his new home, something which Fiddleford never could have dreamed of before and was grateful for. To truly have this second chance with his son. Tate had grown into a man that reminded him a lot of his own father and uncles growing up. Blunt but honest ad content with their crafts and tasks in life. Them with their farming and hunting, and now his son with his fishing. He loved going out to the lake and watching his son work, listening to him talk about fishing. It was no lie Tate loved what he did.

Tate would always be his son. But he’d found in a way he’d gained another child, almost like a granddaughter to him, as the year crawled by. He’d met her in the shack along with the other girls, held her hand during the Oddpocolypse. But afterwards, after that had bought the Manor from her father he hadn’t seen hat or hair of Pacifica Northwest. That was until one day while he was gardening on the front lawn he saw her milling about the front gate, attempting to spy on him. He invited her in for some tea which Pacifica had begrudgingly accepted. At first she claimed she was only “checking up to make sure he hadn’t burnt the mansion down to the ground yet.” Much to his surprise Pacifica came back for more teas after that, she’d even offered to help him in his garden. He only became worried when like clockwork as soon as the middle school was out she would be at his house and would put off leaving until the sun was in the brink of setting. He’d asked her once if her family was wondering where she was but she’d avoided the question, though she did admit she hated being home alone with either of her parents and she didn’t have any friends in town.

After that Fiddleford kept his home opened to her, though he did try to gently nudge her into at least joining a club at her school. That ended up not working so steadily he’d tried to introduce her to Candy and Grenda when one day all three of them ended up at his house one weekend. At first he’d feared he’d over stepped his bounds when she saw Pacifica grow defensive against the other two girls, walling herself off and putting up the snotty persona she seemed to put on and take off like a mask. But then the three found out the things they had in common rather then all the things that made them different and slowly but surely Pacifica pulled off her mask again and the three became an unlikely trio to visit his house and hang out around town.

One day they were all talking about boy bands and Fiddleford showed them the boyband he first fell in love with decades ago, the Beatles. At first the girls hadn’t believed him, Beatles were a cool hipster thing, not something for geek girls to freak out about according to them. So Fiddleford showed them he few relics from his Beatle-mania days and they’d found it absolutely hilarious. Grenda had joked that in a few years maybe Sev’ral Timez would be a musical revolution too. That had been a fun day, the four of them had tried tracking down the Sev’ral Timez boyband in the woods, they’d even recruited Wendy’s help in tracking them down.

They didn’t find the boyband that day, but instead they found two children who looked identical to Dipper Pines, only their caps had numbers on them instead of blue trees. They told him that they were photocopy clones of Dipper from last summer and the two boys had made a water proof shelter for themselves out in the wilderness. They joined in the hunt for the boyband and later Fiddleford had offered his home to the boys. He knew they were only brief flashes of Dipper’s consciousness, but it appeared that the two had developed their own awareness, something he couldn’t ever remember from his and Ford’s old experiments. They both even developed distinct personalities that had altered not only from each other but also their original Dipper. He felt this urge to protect and care for the boys after that and the two became like adopted kids to him much like Pacifica had become.

The open halls had become much less empty and yawning now than when he’d first moved in with just a knapsack and his raccoon wife to his name. And now on the first Sunday in May he was holding a special Sunday anime dinner, this time in his own manor. In the theater room he recently renovated he was surrounded by friends and family he’d invited over. Excited happy voices all surrounded him and a warm plate of home-cooked food sat on his lap. He closed his eyes, feeling everything all around him.

He couldn’t wait for his boyfriend and his family to come back next month and get to feel this too.

#fiddleford appreciation month #fiddlefest #marchgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #friendship/family #mentions fiddauthor

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