Reminisce

inspired by this piece by @stephreynaart

It was almost a year now. Their world wide trip had taken longer than he had first planned. Or maybe he had extended it on purpose. Staying at each port for an extra day, taking in sights, picking out gifts for his family. Taking more detailed notes than necessary, observing the world with a slower pace than he normally would. Trying to enjoy as much of his life as he could.

"It's what he would have wanted." Stanford would tell himself.

It was almost a year now, but walking into town, knowing that he couldn't hear his laugh anymore. that he wouldn't have his old friend's wild ramblings, impressive inventions or admittedly enjoyable banjo playing to return to made his heart feel like stone. Weighing down in his chest until it felt too difficult to take another step. He missed him dearly, and a world without him felt wrong. A gravity Falls without Fiddleford McGucket felt like perverse reality he didn't want to live in. No living would be too kind a word. He wouldn't be living in a world like that. he'd be enduring.

The thoughts in his head began to form a maelstrom of pain and sorrow, of memories that he couldn't relive. Of Relationships he couldn't build. It felt like a big cruel joke. But as the thoughts began to take hold in his mind, the familiar sound of banjo strums echoed through the woods. It wasn't the same, the tune too modern to be something Fiddleford would play. Despite this, Stanford found himself following the plucked strings until he found himself at the Shack.

Sitting on the porch was a familiar long nosed man, with bushy hair and ball cap covering his eyes. Tate McGucket was steadily plucking away at a banjo, playing a tune from the radio. Beside him were Mabel, Wendy and Grenda, cheering him on. On the grass in front of them were Dipper, Soos and Candy, working on a new machine together. Stan stood aside, laughing his usual gruff laugh at what nerds the former trio were.

Watching his new family, Stanford felt his chest grow lighter. They weren't the same as Fiddleford. But they didn't have to be. His old friend was dead. Stanford accepted this long ago, he missed him dearly, but he knew he was dead. He wasn't looking for a replacement or something to fill the void in his heart. His family was already there. Alive, well and ready to support him no matter what.

However, in this instance they might need his help as he watched Dipper and Candy's robot catch on fire.

@stephreynaart

I made a shitty little edit

bongo belly....

My friend @pluviofleur was feeling down so i drew them with the Stans to cheer them up

my @stanuary for Weeks 1 + 3. Covering Ocean and Brothers.

This was great fun to do. revising 3D techniques as well as learning new ones in order to make this was a blast. I hope you guys enjoy this piece!

@lemonfodrizzleart

@gin-juice-tonic

have my contribution to the farmer Stan and Disco boys Crossover

Pulled Back

The words left Jimmy’s lips before he could stop them. They felt heavy on his tongue and like he was ripping open his chest for everyone to see. But in that moment, with the sight of Stan at the door to their apartment, his duffel bag packed. Jimmy would have walked to hell and back to keep Stan from leaving.

Fic inspired form a conversation between myself and @garbage-cowboy

(also on ao3!)

“Please stay.”

The words left Jimmy’s lips before he could stop them. They felt heavy on his tongue and like he was ripping open his chest for everyone to see. But in that moment, with the sight of Stan at the door to their apartment, his duffle bag packed. Jimmy would have walked to hell and back to keep Stan from leaving.

“Jimmy, my last gig was a bust. You saw how everyone was laughing.” Stan said. His face burned red with the memory from the situation playing again in his mind, like a record stuck in a loop. “It’s better than being chased outta town by a mob with pitchforks. But I need a clean slate, somewhere that won’t have anyone know about the screw up who couldn’t sell lemonade on a hot summer’s day.”

“Stan, please.” Jimmy stumbled out of bed.

Late Arrival

I saw this post by @clownwry and thought "hey i could write a thing about this." And then I did. So i hope you enjoy it.

(Also on ao3!)

---------------

“Grunkle Ford.” Mabel whined. She leaned over the side of her tank, dripping water onto the floorboards. “Where are Dipper and Stan? They said they’d be back with snacks for movie-noon hours ago.” Her Grunkle stopped grooming himself and looked at her, his barbed tongue hanging out of his mouth. He turned his gaze from her to the Mystery Shack brand clock that hanged over Mabel’s fish tank. It was true that his brother and nephew were overdue from their trip into town, however they were only thirty minutes late. The Sphinx-man shook his head.

“Well this simply won’t do now will it?” He scratched his cheek. “They owe us big time!” Mabel said. A vengeful grin spread across her adorable cheeks.

My addition for the Ford draw pile started up by the wonderful @eregyrn-falls. I initially intended to have Ford swinging from a grappling hook, but I was watching Miraculous ladybug with a friend while drawing and ended up changing the design for the better (in my opinion)

Week 3 - Troubles at Sea

Woo! late for week 3 of @stanuary (who saw that coming?) Enjoy my take on week 3′s theme of “Dreams”. More of an angsty venture this time round, I hope you all enjoy. and without further ado, let the fic begin!

(also on ao3!)

Stanley stared across the the open ocean. The waves splashed against the bow of the Stan O’ War. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He could hear a cluttering coming from the cabin, Fiddleford was tinkering with their navigation equipment.

‘Probably making sure we don’t get lost again,’ Stanley thought. He heard Ford trying to argue in favour a detour about some anomaly that had popped up on his radar.

Stanley chuckled while taking a sip of his drink.  He tapped his finger against the can, enjoying the small clink that his ring made against the it. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the Stan-o-war II would find itself into trouble. It was only a matter of time, it was like his father always said, he and his brother were nothing but trouble makers looking to make more.

A sketch I did last night for @stanuary week 2 theme: trouble.

Stan broke a vase but glued it back together.

Edits made for @kittykatbella and @polydactyl-orion

@fordtato 

the idea for this kept on coming up in my mind every time I saw your url.

Stanford McGucket (2/?)

THUD!

Stanford jolted awake, finding himself in an unfamiliar car in front of an unfamiliar house. “Where am I? What happened?” he slurred, searching his surroundings.

“Mearl ya startled him!” Sally chastised, “you okay Stanford?”

Stanford McGucket (1/?)

It had been a month, and yet still Stanford remembered the night as though it had just happened. The duffle bag flung at his chest, the forceful slam of the front door to his childhood home, his brother’s protests being silenced by their father’s angry screams. Through heavy tears, he could see their silhouettes in some sort of violent puppet show in the bedroom window. He spent that night in the boat that he and Stanley had spent many a summer’s day working on.