#fiddlefest

[pixiepub]

I´m a huge Gravity Falls fan but for some reason I never drew any fanarts. Don´t ask me why, I really don´t know. ÖvÖ;

Anyways, since it´s Fiddleford Appreciation month I want to use the opportunity to change that. I probably won´t follow a specific prompt, I just draw what comes to my mind.

So yeah...here´s my very first lil´ Fiddleford sketch for ya~ :)

[siriuslymeg]

Just some warm up doodles for @fiddleford-appreciation-month !

Please do not tag ships.

[eregyrn-falls]

More Fiddleford Appreciation!  (Kind of silly addition for the last gasp of @fiddleford-appreciation-month.)

So back when I was doing this piece, I was trying to decide on which John Denver shirt to draw banjo-playing Fidds wearing.  It was a close thing.  So here, a version of the shirt that I almost did instead, from the cover of the Spirit album (1976; but clearly a reference to the earlier song “Sunshine on My Shoulders”).

So like, I know that a lot of people draw post-finale older Fidds in cute sweater-vests and bow ties and stuff, or Mabel sweaters, and don’t get me wrong, he looks adorable like that.  But what if he just goes right back to his hippie roots? I thought.  He could pull it off.

Just using another show background for flavor, here.  

For comparison, the original shirt, to which I cannot do justice, detail-wise. It has all kinds of embroidery and beading and SEQUINS.  (I would totally wear this shirt.  Give it to me.)

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

Hat Swap ~ A late piece for the family prompt of Fiddleford appreciation month. Follow my art blog?

[siodymph]

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.

[transparentgardnerwitch]

Fiddlefest week 4

[enigmatist17]

For What It’s Worth (Parallel!Fiddleford)

Week 1 of @fiddleford-appreciation-month - Parallel!Fidds

Honestly, I feel like the one in the journal would be meeting a lot of other Ford’s, and thus would have to deal with all sorts of things.

Also his Ford would be there to comfort him after each other Ford would leave, as he can’t help them himself.

Fiddleford thought of his work as a dip into madness. He and Ford had nearly let a powerful demon into their world, but in a stroke of luck they bypassed Bill’s power and found a way to unlock a door into a world they didn’t know existed. Ever since then their lives had changed in a way he never would have thought, and for a while he had enjoyed the adventure and thrill of dimension traveling.

That was before he had met other versions of Ford.

They ranged in different ages, some young and frightened of being ejected into the multiverse they had no knowledge of. These Ford’s tugged at Fiddleford’s heartstrings, and he would give them as much aid and knowledge he could before regretfully watching them hesitantly disappear into the multiverse to an unknown fate.

Some were more experienced, joyed to see a familiar face and would often tell the parallel version of their former partner anything he desired. They stayed only for a day or two at most, before continuing on their mission to return home, giving Fiddleford a warm hug before they would disappear in the blink of an eye.

Then there were the older Ford’s, some grizzled with having been trapped for so long in the multiverse as wanderer’s they had grown guarded. Usually they would listen to Fiddleford without interruption whenever he asked questions, giving answers while amusing Fiddleford with whatever he wanted. Fiddleford always noticed they gazed at him in a way that seemed like adoration or longing, never speaking up when some would take his hand into theirs for just a few moments before pulling away.

Then there were those that had given up. These Ford’s always pained him the most, Fiddleford more than ready to be a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on as he would take time to try and counsel them into not completely giving up on life. Some of them would stay for days to weeks, but Fiddleford would be there no matter the lack of sleep or quality of work he would put out during the day.

He loved them dearly, every Ford that he came across had Fiddleford longing to protect them as much as he could.

[ceslawrites]

WIP: "Pass the Salt"

A fic idea I've decided to work on for the last few days of Fiddlefest, inspired by some recent requests for more of McGucket's ex-wife. McGucket's Ex-Wife was a quiet, reserved sort of person, to the point where I, the narrator, hardly know anything about her. I don't, for example, have a clear idea what her face looked like, having only ever seen a rough sketch of a thirty year old *photograph* of her within Stanford Pines' third journal. I don't quite know what her voice sounded like, what sort of clothes she liked to wear, what sort of jokes made her laugh (or, for that matter, if any jokes made her laugh at all), and, I'm embarrassed to admit, I don't even have a record of her full name. I only know that once she was Mrs. McGucket, and now she's a Mrs. McCorkle. However, since that name applies to two completely different women in this tale, I have elected to call Mrs. McCorkle-Who-Was-Once-Mrs-McGucket the much less trying to type "Trudy".