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siodymph · 6 years ago

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“The Before and After”

Hey there @pirably ! I’m so sorry this is getting to you so late! I can’t thank you enough for participating in the gift exchange, and I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt!

Feel free to read your story under the cut or over on my ao3!

“I can’t believe you!”

“What?”

Sighing, Stanford took a deep breath. His neck was starting to feel pinched from looking up at so long. “I said I CAN’T BEL-”

“I heard what you said! What’s not to believe?”

“Just… Everything about this! There’s no way this is safe!”

There was a long pause as Stanford waited until he finally heard Fiddleford respond. Voice echoing out from somewhere near the top of his gigantic creation.

“… Probably not!”

“Then why do you insist on working like this? Why put yourself in life-threatening danger!”

“Cause!” Fiddleford called back, huffing. “I work best directly with my hands. And there’s no way I could tip this darned thing over without risking it all breaking! All for some shiftin’ wires!”

“You could build something to help gently set it down then stand it again!” Stanford tried to add.

“Ugh! But that’d take even more time! Not to mention I’d have to build that first!” Fiddleford yelled. “Now hush up! I’m trying to work here Stanford!”

If someone were to see Stanford at that moment, they probably would have said he was pouting. But Ford would take to his grave if he had to. “I just want you to be safe…”

“I’m harnessed to the swing, which I rigged up myself! Checked the pulleys and everything this morning! I’m the safest I’ve ever been!” Fiddleford called out one more time. “And you’re one to talk! Where was all this fussing over safety when you were in Dr. Jenret’s class and you almost poured acid on yourself?”

Stanford could only smile and shake his head in response. As always Fiddleford was able to win him over when he least suspected it. As inevitable as it was, it still caught Stanford off-guard. Growing up there had been no one like that in his life. If he ever got into arguments or debates with kids they’d always either eventually concede or just completely give up. Or they’d just hit him out of annoyance. If it was his brother he’d do a combination of the last two.

At least Stanford used that excuse as to why after knowing the man for years now, he still managed to surprise him when they got into debates.

To this day Fiddleford was probably the only person he knew who could get him to shut up and see things from a new perspective.

So now knowing there was nothing he could say Stanford decided to just sit back and watch the show Fiddleford was putting on. The man may be stubborn as a mule, but he was equally as cunning and brilliant, and he certainly made a performance out of his larger-than-life projects.

There was no denying Fiddleford’s brilliance. He had the most engineering and mechanical skill out of anyone Stanford knew. Even better than himself, which was something he seldom admitted to anyone. But it was the truth. Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was by far the best of the best in the world of robotics. And anyone who said otherwise was wrong.

Just being able to watch Fiddleford work was a treat itself. As his creation came together it quickly collected height. So much so that he soon had to resort to rigged swings and climbing equipment to finish the job. As he worked up off the ground like that Stanford couldn’t help but think of those old photos from the 1940’s of construction workers building the first skyscrapers. So high off the ground, only a pair of overalls and a utility belt for protection, and yet seeming so at ease. There was almost a beauty in how effortless Fiddleford made it seem. A grace he had while swinging from rig to rig, climbing up the structure with his hands and feet.

But when the light hit his face just right and Stanford could see Fiddleford’s hair shine golden, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his hard work, Stanford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Fiddleford Hadron McGucket even more...

Two hours later, Fiddleford came swinging down. Overalls covered in a layer of grim, hair frizzled and frumpy, face red and sweaty, and a satisfying smile that just looked ethereal on Fiddleford’s face.

“How’d it go?” Stanford asked as he ran back over from his own work to meet him. Handing the other man a towel.

“Pretty good I think!” Fiddleford sighed gratefully as he started to wipe off his face. “Got that wiring all straightened out! Now all that’s left is testing her out!”

“That’s wonderful! We should test it now!”

“You know Stanford it’s a good thing I like ya so much.” Fiddleford said with a tired smirk. “Been up there all day, and as soon as I get down you want me to keep on working!”

“You know you want to see your new invention just as much as I do!” Stanford replied. “Don’t even kid yourself Fidds.”

Chuckling to himself, Fiddleford went over to his work bench and grabbed the remote control he’d built for this his invention. He let his finger hover over the main controls before looking towards Stanford.

“Hang onto your butts…”

All at once, the remote buzzed and the colossal machine burst to life. Inbetween metal panels, there was a bright green glow. Panels began to bend and shift. Massive wings unfurled from either side of the robot. For a moment the creature turned its head to look at its master. Green eyes glowing with a light that feuled it from within. Then after Fiddleford pressed another button the remote buzzed again and the creature tilted its head back at gave out a massive prehistoric screech that made Stanford’s entire chest rattle.

“Not too bad for someone who said they were moving onto computer-work only, huh?”

Stanford looked up at the massive mechanic pterodactyl in awe. “Fiddleford… Fiddlford that was nowhere close to ‘not bad’. That was… That was amazing!”

“Aw shucks,” Fiddleford mumbled.

“No, I mean it!” Stanford continued. “This is a piece of history in the making here. This won’t just change the world of animatronics, but the entire world of robots and engineering itself!”

“You really think so?” Fiddleford asked.

“I know so!” Stanford tried to contain some of his excitement, sometimes he could get rather loud when he got carried away. “And Fiddleford? I couldn’t imagine this being made by anyone else but yourself. You really did a… a fantastic job here. There’s no way you won’t take first place in Dawngrove next week!”

“Aw, I don’t care about none of that.” Fiddleford sighed as he turned off his robo-dino. “I’m only doing this for lil’Tate. He’s the one who asked me to do all this after all.”

“And I’m certain Tate will adore this too.”

“I hope so...” Fiddleford said with another sigh. Looking back up at his incredible invention. “Ever since me and the missus split I feel like I haven’t seen him as often. When we are together I gotta make it mean something. For the both of us.”

Gently, Stanford took Fiddlford’s face in his hands, pulling him away so they were looking eye to eye.

“Believe me Fiddleford, next week Dawngrove’s Robotic Royal will be a day no one could ever forget!”

Leaning in closer, Stanford kissed him. And closing his eyes, Fiddleford could feel himself relaxing.

Slipping away. If only for a few moments...

~~~

Sometimes it truly amazed Fiddleford how everything was coming back to him.

At least physically if not completely mentally. He was still working on that.

He counted it as a small success though when Stanford showed him a massive mechanical pterodactyl and he got the inkling of a sensation that he’d seen it before.

Raising one hand up, he touched one of its massive wings. It felt rougher than he’d expected it to. No doubt the metal had eroded some after years of hiding it away in such an abandoned place.

“I know I’ve seen this fella before…” Fiddleford pondered out loud, still lightly rubbing over the metal as if that would help him reveal the answer. He knew he’d made robotic pterodactyls before but this one didn’t seem as familiar. It definitely wasn’t the one he made for revenge after his retirement-party-fiasco. “Did we make this together?”

“Not really, I just watched.” Stanford answered. “You made this one on your own. It was for this competition out in Dawngrove California.”

“Dawngrove…” Fiddleford said slowly.

“Yes, does that town sound familiar at all?”

Fiddleford hummed a little before shaking his head. “It ain’t there right now, but it’ll come back. I can feel it rattle’n around in there.”

Stanford seemed a little disappointed, but decided to move on. “Well you and I brought that in for a robotics competition. A battle royal actually. You ended up getting first place. Your ex-wife and your son even came and we all cheered you on.”

The mention of his son brought a smile to his face. The details over everything were hazy but he always knew who Tate was. “He would have been around eight or nine right?”

“Yes, he was nine!” Stanford said.

Fiddleford chuckled at the thought. “He was such a little squirt back then. Always hiding under that big mop of hair…”

Stanford grumbled as he looked around. He wished he had more photos from that day. In his experience with Stanley photos help jogged Stan’s memory the best. Unfortunately he didn’t have any photos from that day. He was however able to find a few newspaper clippings he’d held onto from that day. Carefully picking it up the fragile paper so it didn’t disintegrate, Stanford brought it over for Fiddleford to see.

“Look here,” Stanford pointed to the main picture under the headline ‘Super Scientist and Father Wins Grand Prize with his Dynamic Dino!’ where there was a black and white photo of the Pterodactyl back in its golden years. “If you look towards the bottom near the pterodactyl’s feet you can see a few figures. That’s me on the right, you on the left, and you’re holding Tate in the middle of us.”

The article itself was so damaged it was illegible. But Fiddleford could just make out their figures Stanford was pointing to in the picture. The picture was so old the image had begun to fade some too, mostly on the left side. His whole body was faded out. But with enough focus he could just make out Stanford and Tate’s faces. Both were beaming at the camera. Grinning with pride. Fiddleford realized they’d been proud of him.

“You two sure seemed happy…” Fiddleford said with a sigh.

“And we still are.” Stanford continued. “You have no idea how happy I am to be here with you. To have a second chance at making things right with you. With everyone.”

Fiddleford nodded but didn’t look up from the picture. As if trying to memorize their faces in case this memory never came back to him. When he didn’t focus as hard he could almost recall some things. Mostly phantom feelings. Like holding a giggling Tate close to his chest. Or swinging up on a rig, shouting to Stanford down below. Walking hand in hand with both of them…

“I’m happy I get a second chance too.” Fiddleford replied softly.

Eventually they’d seen everything they could and together, hand in hand, they walked back out of that old warehouse back into the world. They’d been in there reminiscing so long they’d missed sunset. It was already night and the moon hung low in the sky, darting out from behind trees as they walked.

Stanford’s six-fingered hand felt so warm in Fiddleford’s own. How he’d spent all those years alone, Fiddleford didn’t know, but now that Stanford was back in his life he knew he couldn’t bear to go back to the way things had once been. The world had changed so much, and they’d both changed so much with it. But Fiddleford could feel it in his heart that what they had between themselves was still as special as it was back then.

And when the light hit his face just right Fiddleford could see Stanford’s hair shine silver, and his eyes practically sparkling under the moon, Fiddleford knew in his heart his feelings for the other man hadn’t changed at all.

He found he’d only grown to love Stanford Filbrick Pines even more.

#fiddauthor #fiddauthorgiftexchange #fiddauthor gift exchange #pirably #fiddleford mcgucket #stanford pines #fiddauthorgiftexchange2018

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nour386 · 4 years ago

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A Picnic In the Woods

Stanford And Fiddleford have a nice day out with one another and enjoy a picnic in the Gravity falls woods.

(also on ao3!)

This is my secret Santa Gift for @pirably who wanted some Fiddauthor fluff. nothing explicitly romantic, just the boys being happy. I hope I met your expectations!

~~~

The sun shone through the tree branches above as Stanford led the way through the woods. There was a cheerful spring in his step when he looked back and saw Fiddleford not far behind, with a picnic basket in hand. A whole day free to themselves, no anomalies to study or machines to work on. His mind ran wild with possabilities.

‘Perhaps we’ll find a new cryptid. Or Perhaps we’ll find a secret city of fairies and become crowned kings or maybe-’

Stanford was pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle pull on his shoulder.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Fiddleford smirked.

“You don’t know that.” Stanford crossed his arms.

“You had that look on your face. The one you have when you’re thinking of finding a magical creature.” Fiddleford pointed at his own face, making a wide-eyed look of wonder with his jaw hanging open. “Kinda like this.”

“That’s an absurd and frankly poor imitation of-” Stanford’s statement was interrupted as a fairy flew past, leaving sparkling dust in her path; and he found himself making the exact expression.

“You’re adorable.” Fiddleford ruffled Stanford's hair. “Come along, times a wastin’ and our lunch ain’t gonna stay warm forever.”

“Are you saying that a brilliant inventor such as yourself hasn’t already designed a device that could not only keep meals warm for hours, but also feed the user?” Stanford asked, spreading his arms in the air.

“Sounds to me like someone is dropping not-so-subtle hints that he’s too lazy to eat at appropriate times.” Fiddleford lowered Stanford’s left arm out of his face. He slid his hand down the researcher’s arm so that they were holding hands.

Stanford paused, looking down to make sure he wasn’t misunderstanding what his hands were feeling. His cheeks flushed red when he saw that they were indeed holding hands. He felt Fiddleford interlace their fingers; and his cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson.

“You-uh-I-” Stanford rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“You’re like a little kitten.” Fiddleford cooed. His smile grew further as he watched his boyfriend squirm under his affection.

“How’s that? If it’s about my sneezing again-”

“I was going to say that you’re both adorable, and easily held. Just like a little kitten.” Fiddleford pulled Stanford closer to leave a soft kiss on his forehead.

“How could you take advantage of my distracted state in such a way, Fiddleford?” Stanford said in mock shock. “I trusted you in my vulnerability, and you treat me like this.”

“I just realised something else that makes ya just like a kitten,” Fiddleford rolled his eyes. “You’re overly dramatic when it comes to the tiniest things.”

“This talk of cute things reminded me of something,” Stanford said.

“Oh do tell,” said Fiddleford.

“I’ve been hearing rumors about creatures who are so cute that any who feast their eyes upon them are compelled to obey their every command.” Stanford spoke excitedly, there was a shine in his eye.

“Well we can rule you out from being one of them.” Fiddleford said smugly.

Stanford shook his head. “You were just singing my praises on my cuteness, what made you change your mind so suddenly?”

“Oh I didn’t say that.” Fiddleford corrected. “All I’m saying is that after this morning, I don’t think you have the power of manipulating people with your cuteness.”

“Listen, getting Stanley to leave his bed before noon is like trying to break down a wall using a sewing needle.” Stanford shrugged.

“Anyway, you were saying something about a creature that, despite all logic, is somehow cuter than you?” Fiddleford said.

“Hmm,” Stanford tapped his chin before snapping his fingers. “Yes! Now my informant was a gnome, so this information might not be too reliable. However I am planning a small expedition next week to find out more.”

The pair continued to walk through the woods. Stanford happily rattled off information about the many wondrous creatures he intended to study and the potential discoveries that were waiting for them in the coming months.

All the while Fiddleford listened intently. While he did not hold the same enthusiasm that Stanford had for the unknown, he did enjoy listening to the way Stanford’s voice sounded when he got excited,he way he’d talk faster as though all his thoughts wanted to get out at once.

Even now, watching Stanford go on about the feuds amongst the many fairy kingdoms and how he hoped to bridge peace to (or at least document the fall out). Fiddleford felt the sheer glee that dripped from Stanford’s voice as he spoke. It was infectious, and Fiddleford found himself matching the spring in his boyfriend’s step as they walked together.

“Oh! We’ve almost arrived.” Stanford pointed at a gap amongst the trees ahead of them.

“Thank the Lord.” Fiddleford sighed.

“You aren’t tired already are you?” Stanford teased.

“I’m sorry, were you the one carrying our picnic basket the entire trek?” Fiddleford shot back.

“I offered to carry it but you said you wanted to,” said Stanford . “You’ve no one to blame for your tiredness but yourself.”

Fiddleford huffed. “You’ll understand when we get there.”

The pair walked through a gap between two tall redwoods. Before them was a small clearing. A small pond sat near the centre, the rest of the ground was covered in short grass. With the sky above and the trees on the far side of the clearing provided a good amount of shade to hide away from the heat.

“Now this is very picturesque.“ Fiddleford rested his hand on his hip.

“All it needs is a hill and it’d look like every picnic in those old stories.” Stanford led the way to the shadow of the trees.

“Knowing this place I doubt we’d be able to climb up a hill without having to answer some arbitrary number of riddles.” Fiddleford said as he followed Stanford’s lead.

Stanford laughed. “With a mind as sharp as yours? I doubt you’d need to worry about riddles.”

“Speaking of my sharp mind.” Fiddleford pulled on Stanford's hand, bringing his boyfriend to a stop. “I might have built something to help us with setting up our picnic.”

“Oho?” Stanford raised his brow. “The floor is yours.”

“Just a moment.” Fiddleford stepped forward, letting go of Stanford’s hand. This made the researcher give a small whine. Fiddleford rolled his eyes as he placed the picnic basket down on the grassy floor. He picked up a long stick from the ground beside him and walked back to Stanford's side. “Now, prepare to be amazed.”

Stanford watched with bated breath as Fiddleford took the stick and tapped the side of the picnic basket three times. Four thin metallic arms emerged from beneath the blanket covering the basket and began to unfold it. With the blanket out of the way, Stanford could see a small robot, rectangular in shape with the aforementioned limbs connected to it. It dusted the blanket before gently laying it on the grass beside the basket. Pressing its hands against the ground, the robot lifted itself out of the basket. It rested its metallic body on the blanket and reached for the food hidden in the basket. In no time at all the robot had placed the impressive spread of food across the blanket.

A roast chicken was placed in the centre of the blanket, surrounded by many sandwiches. They had a variety of fillings, ranging from the simple ham and cheese to more strange, like pickles and mayonnaise. An assortment of fruit, that had been freshly bought from the market the previous day, was placed in a small bowl in the centre of the blanket. Next to that bowl was a bag of jelly beans, as well as a pair of fizzy drinks that Fiddleford knew Stanley wouldn’t miss.

“Pretty impressive eh?” said Fiddleford.

Stanford was unable to answer as he stared in awe at the robot that, having finished its job, neatly folded itself back into the picnic basket.

“Hello? Stanford? You in there?” Fiddleford waved his hand in front of the researcher’s face.

“Fiddleford, that was amazing!” Stanford jumped up and hugged his boyfriend tightly.

“Stanford- you’re- crushin’ me-” Fiddleford coughed.

“Oh, my apologies.” Stanford let him down with an embarrassed smile on his face. “But yes, you did an impressive job with that machine.”

Fiddleford took a deep breath. “I’d have said you were only saying that because I was your boyfriend, if it weren’t for you almost breaking me in two.”

“I was caught up in the moment,” Stanford said. “I was handed the opportunity to watch one of your machines in person. What was I meant to do? Give one of those painfully boring claps like they do at those golf games that Stanley skips past on TV?”

“You might have a point. That did feel a lot more personal than just a clap.” Fiddleford tapped his chin in thought. “But a warnin’ beforehand would be preferred.”

“That can be arranged.” Stanford grinned. “But, before we continue that discussion, how about we enjoy this spread before the ants get to them?”

“Not magical ants I hope.” Fiddleford shuddered.

“You’ve heard of fire ants? Well these are ice ants!” Stanford wriggled his fingers sinisterly. A cheeky smile spread across his face as he continued. “It’s said that their bite can result in frostbite and perhaps even soggy sandwiches if left out in the sun for too long.”

“Then we better get to eating.” Fiddleford rolled his eyes, taking a seat on the blanket.

Stanford stayed standing for a moment. Choosing to savour the sight of Fidddleford sitting in the shade of the trees with a small smile on his face. His golden brown hair shone in the flakes of sun that made it through the branches of the trees that towered above. The engineer was reaching for a sandwich before he realised that he was alone on the blanket. He looked up at Stanford and sighed.

“You shoulda brought your camera.” Fiddleford said. “A picture would last much longer.”

“Now where would the fun be in that?” Stanford sat opposite his boyfriend.

“The fun would be in eatin’ before those ‘ice ants’ get to your food.” Fiddleford threw a sandwich at Stanford.

“Fine fine.” Stanford chuckled. He unwrapped the sandwich before checking the filling. “Ugh, did you grab any random combination of ingredients from the kitchen and put them together?”

“Only for a couple of them.” Fiddleford smiled. Leaning forward, Stanford caught a peak at FIddleford’s sandwich and recognised pickle slices and mayonnaise poking out of the bread. “Makes this into a fun little game of sandwich roulette.”

“Either that, or I have to seriously consider buying you a cookbook.” Stanford sighed. He took another bite of his sandwich. It had a thick slice of cheese between two different flavoured spreads of jam. It was a curious mix of sweet and savoury, but not as bad as he was expecting.

The pair sat together, enjoying the warm afternoon, chatting idly as they ate. They tossed the sandwiches back and forth, daring one another to try out the strange combinations that Fiddleford had concocted. The pair laughed at the way their faces twisted with disgust after a biting into the sandwiches. From sardines and jelly to cucumbers and cheese, the pair passed around the strange flavours before moving on to the main course of their picnic.

While Fiddleford had been proud of the terrible sandwich flavours had concocted, he also knew the value of providing a real meal. He handed Stanford a knife to cut up the chicken, while he prepared the proper sandwiches for them. A quick spread of mayonnaise on a clean slice of bread along with a generous cut of chicken made a simple but tasty chicken sandwich. With Stanford’s nod of approval, Fiddleford made a couple more before digging in himself.

Having finished their lunch, the pair lied back on the now empty blanket and enjoyed the stiff breeze that was blowing through the clearing. They watched the clouds, or Stanford did at least; he had one hand in the bag of jelly brands and the other gently holding Fiddleford’s hand. The engineer rested his head on his free arm and listened to Stanford talk about the different clouds types, and how the many different anomalies viewed them. How some clan of trolls saw storm clouds as warning from ancient giants and would hide themselves underground. Despite his best efforts to stay attentive, the comfort that came from Stanford's voice, the warm sun and his full belly, made him succumb to his drowsiness. Fiddleford gave a small yawn before falling to sleep. Stanford's eyelids felt heavy. He rolled over to find Fiddleford snoring softly. With a small smile, Stanford wriggled closer to his boyfriend so that their foreheads were resting against one another. Feeling a little bit cheeky, he gave a small peck on Fiddleford’s nose.

‘A short nap won’t hurt,’ he thought, before letting himself fall asleep.

I’d like to thank my beta reader @introvert-no-chameleon for their awesome work with helping me fix my grammar.

#Gravity falls #Fanfic #Stanford pines #Fiddleford Mcgucket #Fiddauthor #Nour's art #The Author #Old man mcgucket

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