after forever - waiting for a laptop that could handle the size of my krita files, I have now retrieved concept art of dreamcaptor that I'll be dumping it here in this post and keep postin new stuff when i find more
these we're sketches of stanley and fiddledord first interaction ideas and maybe how they tried to get rid of ford
God I'm a sucker for AUs where Stan and Fiddleford meet in the 80s. Stan wakes up and Fiddleford has made him a breakfast-making robot.
Stan: … how did you have the time to make this?
Fiddleford: I couldn't sleep on account of bein struckified with horrible guilt so I've been up since two in the AM
It’s time for @stanuary week 1! Love/bonding. have some classic Fiddstan Set in the mystery Trio au!
(also on ao3!)
Stanley looked up from the stove in time to see Fiddleford rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. The engineer gave a non-committal nod as he took his seat at the kitchen table. The smell of eggs filled the air and the sizzling of bacon made Fiddleford’s stomach grumble something fierce.
“Breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes,” Stanley said. He flipped a pancake onto a plate next to the stove.
“Well it smells divine.” Fiddleford said. His sandy blond hair was a mess that he couldn't be bothered to fix this early in the morning.
Stan reached for the coffee pot and poured out two steaming hot mugs. “How many sugars?” he asked.
“Two please.” Fiddleford rubbed the last grains of sleep from his eyes.
“Coming right up,” Stanley put in two spoons of sugar into the mug with gear pattern. He walked over to the stove and placed the mug next to a plate stacked high with pancakes, with a side of bacon and eggs. Stanley set the plate and mug in front of fiddleford. He pecked Fiddleford’s forehead before making his own breakfast.
“How’d you sleep Fiddlenerd?” Stanley asked. He took a seat opposite Fiddleford.
“Refreshing,” Fiddleford got to work at his food. “You really outdid yourself this time darling.”
Stanley beamed. He started up with his own meal. It had been quite a while since he was able to sit down and enjoy a meal without having to worry about some magical beast bursting through the window and declaring war against them for stepping on some ancient flower of ultimate power or something.
He had met fiddleford a little while before Ford had called Fiddleford over for some help with some interuniversal portal or something. With nothing better to do Stan agreed to come with. Firstly to help with heavy lifting that might come up, and secondly to stare in awe at his boyfriend’s work. However meeting his estranged twin upon arriving wasn’t what he had expected. If Fiddleford hadn’t stood his ground and forced both Pines twins to talk out their issues Stanley wasn’t sure what would he would have done.
“So how did you meet the nerd?” Stanley asked after a beat. He rested his head in his hand, his elbow sitting against the table.
“We’ve been dating for how long and you’re only asking how I met my boss and got my job now?” Fiddleford raised his eyebrow.
“We’ve been busy,” Stanley replied. “What with the whole ‘making up for ruining his chance at his dream school’ and that goblin attack.”
“Gremloblin,” Fiddleford corrected.
“Yeah, that. Now back to the question, how did you meet my brother?” Stanley pressed.
“If you must know, we were roommates in college.” Fiddleford said. He took a sip of his coffee, making sure not to meet Stan’s eye.
“Roommates eh? Did you two ‘study’ together? What did you ‘study’? Nerdomics? Klingon? “ Stanley waited for Fiddleford to be halfway through his gulp of coffee before making his next assumption. “Biology?”
Fiddleford spat out his coffee. “Stanley Pines! Just what in the lord’s name are you insinuating?”
“What? My brother studies fairies and trolls, he’s obviously have to study how bodies and stuff work.” Stanley blinked innocently. He’d have to clean up that coffee stain from the floor but the look on Fiddleford face was worth it.
“Right-right. Well, not necessarily. I didn’t study biology myself, but Stanford did need some help with his studies and assignments. And if’n I was able to help I would,” Fiddleford recalled. “And in turn he’d help me out with my engineering studies.”
“A bit of ‘I scratch your back you scratch mine?’” Stanley smirked.
“If you call staying up until 3 am for three nights in a row ‘scratching his back’ then yes.” Fiddleford rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know, that sounds pretty productive if you ask me.” Stan smirked.
“If you’re trying to ask if your brother and I were in a relationship you can just say it,” Fiddleford said flatly.
“Aw, but I wanted to tease you more,” Stanley pouted. He took a sip of his coffee.
“Your dancing around the bush was about as subtle as a baseball bat to the face,” Fiddleford said. “And It’s way too early to be dealing with any of that.” He took a very quick sip of his coffee. He didn’t want a repeat of earlier.
“Fine fine, so that's how you scratched his back, how’d he pay you back?” Stanley asked. “From what I’ve heard, your dorms were terrible in winter. Did you two find an ‘economical’ way to stay warm?”
“Ya got me once Stanley, it ain’t happening again.” Fiddleford said. “And let me answer your question with a question, do you ever wonder why your brother always wears long sleeved shirts?”
“Because he somehow thought that Carl Sagan was a Fashion pioneer instead of the nerd he really was?” Stanley asked.
“For someone who claims to enjoy having fun you sure do like to suck the fun out other people, you know that?” Fiddleford asked.
“Oh, I’m well aware.” Stanley smirked. “But because I’m nice I’ll take the bait. Why does Ford wear long sleeved shirts all the time?”
“I don’t feel like telling you anymore.” Fiddleford look away childishly.
“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that,” Stanley said. He walked over to Fiddleford’s side to coddle him. “You know I was just kidding, right?”
“Well i don’t want an inattentive audience when i’m telling my stories,” Fiddleford turned his head away and crossed his arms.
“Come on Fiddlesticks, I really mean it,” Stanley took the seat next to Fiddleford. “I promise I‘ll listen this time.”
“Your words are as empty as your stomach, Stanley Pines,” Fiddleford said dramatically. He stared Stanley down, but was thrown off by his boyfriend’s grin. “What’s so funny, Mr. Heckler?”
“Empty as my stomach eh?” Stanley asked. He nodded to his empty plate of pancakes. “You sure about that one?”
“That doesn’t prove anything. You’d put the the bottomless hole we have outside to shame,” FIddleford said.
“It’s a gift,” Stanley beamed.
“At least I don’t have to worry about throwing away food scraps anymore,” Fiddleford said.
“So, you were going to tell me a story about my brother hiding something with shirts?” Stan asked.
“I’m not sure if I’m willing to tell you.” Fiddleford smirked.
“Hmm, maybe I could make it worth your while?” Stanley asked.
“Stanley, are you suggesting a bribe?” Fiddleford asked in mock shock.
“I think I might have something to fit the bill,” Stanley grinned. He leaned forward and kissed Fiddleford’s cheek. The engineer giggled as the scruff on Stan’s chin tickled him.
“You were right.” Fiddleford said. He scooted his chair closer so that he could lean against stan’s chest. “That definitely fit the bill.”
“So can I hear the story or not?” Stanley asked after a beat. Fiddleford gotten half way through his pancakes and hadn’t said a word.
Fiddleford took another bite of his pancakes.
“What are you waiting for a kiss on the cheek?” Stan asked.
“Another one wouldn’t hurt,” Fiddleford grinned.
“You set me up,” Stan frowned.
“And they said it’s impossible to out-con a conman,” Fiddleford smirked. Stanley rolled his eyes before kissing fiddleford’s cheek.
“Happy?”
“Very,” Fiddleford grinned.
Fiddleford finished off his breakfast before diving into his tale.
“I was low on parts for my engineering major, and my deadline was breathing down my back,” he began. “Your brother had helped me test out the prototypes but those… didn’t turn out too well.”
“Did they explode?” Stanley asked.
“Not in any way that would be entertaining. Half the time they just started to smoke and we’d have to get the fire extinguisher.” Fiddleford said. “Anyway, we got wind that the science department were planning on throwing out some equipment. And that stuff just happened to have the parts I needed. So Stanford and I got suited up, you should have seen your brother, he got a black sweater and beanie for the occasion.”
“You’re saying that as if you didn’t have a mask and a striped black and white shirt as well.” Stanley accused.
“I thought it would have been appropriate to dress to fit the occasion,” Fiddleford said. “As I was saying, we made our way to the science building in the dead of night. It was so dark we couldn’t see our hands in front of our faces. Stanford was saying something about anti-theft lights that made everything hard to see. Turns out we were just in the shadow of the building.”
“Ha! He would think that.” Stanley said smugly.
“Well we walked into the building.” Fiddleford said.
“You just walked in? No security? No security guards? No cameras?” Stan asked.
“Our college advertised ‘roach free dormitories’.” Fiddleford scowled. “This was granted by handing out a free can of insect spray on our first day.”
“Sounds like my kind of place.” Stanley smirked.
“Let’s just say they probably didn’t have the budget for any kind of serious security detail.” FIddleford said. “A I was saying, we walked in, no problem. In fact the equipment was right by the door in the hallway.”
“Sounds too convenient,” Stanley said.
“It was a stroke of luck!” Fiddleford said, pretending that he hadn’t heard Stan’s comment. “But lo and behold the night guard was on his patrol.”
“I thought you said there weren’t any guards,” Stan squinted.
“To be fair, in hindsight they were probably a janitor. But I’m the storyteller here and I decide the roles.” Fiddleford resumed. “Stanford was panicking but didn’t know squat about what parts I needed, so I had him to hold the flashlight for me while I quickly pulled the equipment apart for what I needed. And just as I got the last part free we heard the nightguard walking close by. So using our brilliant minds we dove behind the equipment just in time to avoid their spotlight.”
“Stanford was that daring? Now I wish I was there to see that.” Stanley smirked.
“Just as we heard them walked past; we made our way to sneak past the nightguard. Unfortunately Stanford, the old butterfingers that he was, dropped his flashlight.” He waved his arms as he spoke. “And to make things worse, the parts in my bag had leaked oil on to the floor. His flashlight cracked on the ground and was covered in oil. And when he turned it back on KABLOOEY! It blew up, setting his black sweater on fire and burning his arms terribly.”
“Ha! That’s rich.” Stanley wiped a tear from his eye while slamming his hand on the table. “Fidds you’re a riot,” he said between chuckles.
“And he’s been hiding his arms in shame ever since,” Fiddleford said.
After he finally caught his breath Stanley clapped Fiddleford on the shoulder. “Fidds, that was amazing. But one problem.”
“What’s that?” Fiddleford asked.
“We both saw Stanford with his sleeves rolled up,” Stanley said. “And if memory served we both teased him for having such smooth arms that pixies could use them as a slide.”
“Well I never said it was a true story,” Fiddleford pouted.
The tipped Stanley over the edge. He erupted into laughter once more. He kicked the ground and slammed his fist on to the table, knocking the utensils around in his hysterics. His barking laugh filled the air, Fiddleford himself couldn’t stop himself from joining in. And in a few short minutes the pair had fallen off their seats.
“That was a good laugh.” Stanley said.
“I needed that,” Fiddleford coughed. He wiped away a tear.
“My little Fiddlesticks out conned me. Twice! I’m so proud.” Stanley said. He placed his hand on his heart. “I think that deserves a reward.”
“My my, what have you got in mind?” Fiddleford smirked. He crawled over so that he was sitting on Stan’s lap.
“There’s that sci-fi flick that came out a while ago. We could go check out together,” Stanley offered.
“I thought you hated sci-fi,” Fiddleford said.
“It’s also a horror flick. I’ll get to have you cuddle up to me when the big monster jumps out,” Stanley said with a smirk.
“After the hunts that Stanford’s had us go through? I doubt some goo-covered rubber costume will get my goat,” Fiddleford said.
“Wanna bet?” Stanley asked.
“Who ever screams first has to be the winner dinner,” Fiddleford declared. He offered his hand to Stan.
“You’re on McGucket,” Stanley shook fiddleford’s hand. “I hope you’re not too attached to your wallet.”
“We’ll See Stanley, we’ll see,” Fiddleford smiled.
So I'm thinking about FiddAuthor headcanons and Emma-May and the divorce. It's very possible that Ford could have contacted Fiddleford before asking him to work on the portal project, but I think the implication is that he didn't. So I imagine Fiddleford gets the call and associates Ford who he hasn't seen in several years with "happy college crush" which is a lot better than "stuck in a straight failing marriage."
I absolutely think he loves Emma, I just think it would be rough having to pretend to be attracted to the partner you're living with. And then having to pretend not to be attracted to the partner you're living with.
I hc that Fidds had a huge crush on Ford and never told him btw.
