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About Deviant Carla SmithFemale/United States Recent Activity
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“Hey, kids, would you two come out here?” Stan called from the back porch. He bit his lip, nervously. He had thought that this would be a good idea, but now that he was doing it, he was less sure. His attempts to do things like this seldom turned out the way he hoped they would...his attempts to do much of anything didn't usually turn out how he hoped really.

But the time for second guessing passed as Dipper and Mabel came out the screen door.

“What's wrong, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asked.

“And why are your hands glowing?” Dipper asked, pointing at Stan's hands, which were cupped closed in front of him and had a noticeable green light shining from between his fingers.

“Oh, no, no, kids there isn't anything wrong or anything like that. I just, uh, I have something I wanted to show you.” Stan said, kneeling down on one knee.

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other a bit uncertainly, but walked over to where Stan knelt. When they were standing just in front of him Stan held out his hands and parted his fingers just enough to make what he was holding visible. Mabel gasped with glee and both twins' eyes went wide.

Sitting in the palm of Stan's hand was what appeared to be a small woman. She was only a few inches tall, with pale green skin and hair a darker green. Her clothes seemed to be made of bits of leaves and flower petals that had been tied together. There was a pair of butterfly-like wings on her back and her body seemed to glow from within with a soft green radiance.

“You caught a fairy?” Mabel asked in surprise.

“This fairy looks different from the ones I usually see around here.” Dipper observed.

“That's because she's what they call a dewdrop fairy. They only come out at dawn and in the early evening and drink up the dew that's out on the leaves. And they can fly at a pretty fast clip when they have a mind to, so most people never even see them.” Stan said.

“She's so pretty.” Mabel said. Hearing this, the fairy sat up a little straighter and started to comb her fingers through her hair.

“That's a good instinct, Mabel,” Stan said, “people as pretty as this little lady, who know how pretty they are, generally like being reminded how pretty they are. It's a simple way for staying on their good side.”

“How do you know stuff like this?” Dipper asked. “Don't get me wrong, it's kinda neat, but I just thought that supernatural stuff wasn't really your thing.”

“What, you think that just 'cause I don't spend my days chasing gnomes or...I don't know, uh, frolicking with the polycorns, that I don't know a thing or two?” Stan asked. “The truth is, I spent 30 years reading the one of the journals I had cover to cover more times than I can count. At first it was just to see if there was something that would help me fix the portal that I missed; but after that I wanted to try to understand what Ford was doing, why this all was so important to him. After all that repetition, ya' pick up a few things.”

“Okay, fine, but why now? Why are you suddenly doing something like this?” Dipper asked.

Stan sighed and his shoulders slumped. He should have known that this couldn't be simple. Dipper was too much like Ford; he couldn't just accept anything, he just had to question everything to death.

“Look, kids,” Stan said, “I know this summer, especially these last couple weeks, has been...let's say chaotic. It's just that, with everything that's been happening lately, I thought it would be nice for you kids to be able to see something that very few people ever get the chance to see...something that wasn't going to try to hurt you. I just want you kids to go home at the end of this summer with memories of something other than horrifying monsters attacking you...” Stan sighed again and added quietly, “or, ya know, me lying to you.”

The twins looked at each other. They had this odd, unreadable expression on their faces; Mabel did some sort of combination tilting her head and eye rolling gesture and Dipper just nodded. Before Stan was able to parse out what unspoken message was being passed between his niece and nephew, the two of them were on either side of him, wrapping their arms around his waist.

“Seriously though, Grunkle Stan, thank you.” Dipper said. “This was pretty cool.”

A sudden, loud, shrill sound caught Stan's attention. He looked at the fairy sitting in his hands; she was tapping one foot on his palm and miming looking at a watch. He wasn't even sure where she learned that gesture, as far as he knew fairies didn't even use watches. They never seemed all that concerned about what time it was.

“Well, it looks like our little friend here is getting impatient.” Stan said. “We should probably let her be on her way.” Stan stood up slowly, his knees protesting at how long he had been kneeling down. “Word of advice, kids; don't try to keep a supernatural creature someplace it doesn't want to be, it's just inviting trouble.”

“Is that why you don't have any real attractions in the Shack, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asked.

“Well, that and a good showman has to know his audience. The sort of people who come to a place like the Shack are generally people who like the idea of the supernatural, but aren't necessarily ready to deal with the reality of it.” Stan explained. “I mean, think about it; do you think that someone who is confused by a rock that looks like a face is in any way prepared to handle even the tamer stuff that you kids have seen this summer?”

“You make a fair point, Grunkle Stan.” Dipper said. “Honestly, it seems kind of obvious in retrospect.”

Stan couldn't help but be amused. Dipper was a good kid, but sometimes he got so caught up in the stuff that he was interested in that he lost sight of more practical things. The kid was so much like Ford in that respect. Stan opened his hands and let his palms lay flat. The fairy stood and stretched her arms over her head. She gave a brief bow before jumping into the air and taking flight. In just a moment she was just a dim green light in the growing evening, and then she was gone.

As Dipper and Mabel turned and were about to walk back into the house, Stan said, “Uh, ya know, just throwing this out there, but I've noticed that a few dewdrop fairies tend to hang around that honeysuckle bush out in the yard. And it's the right time of day for them to be out,” he gestured toward where the last light of the quickly setting sun shone between the trees, “ya know, if someone were interested in seeing them in the wild and all.”

Dipper put a finger to his chin, thoughtfully, “Hmm, the chance to check out some supernatural creatures that I haven't really seen before, in a non-life threatening situation. I do kind of like the sound of that.”

“I'm up for a fairy stake out.” Mabel added.

With that the two of them walked down the back porch stairs and crept out to the bush. They were talking between themselves, but too quietly for Stan to hear what they were saying. Stan grinned just a little bit, this had gone a bit better than he'd thought it would. The kids seemed pretty happy with all of this, and really that was all he'd hoped for in the first place. Stan walked over to the couch and, as he was about to sit when he saw something just at the edge of his vision. He turned and saw Ford standing in the doorway.

Stan sat down and asked, “So, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Ford replied taking a seat next to Stan. “So...” he shifted uncomfortably for a moment, as though he was not sure how to proceed. “you caught a dewdrop fairy? That's quite a thing.”

“You don't have to patronize me, Ford.”

“I'm not. I mean, you said it yourself, not very many people ever even see these fairies; actually catching one isn't exactly nothing.” Ford paused and then continued, “It's more than I ever managed.”

Stan wondered what his brother was playing at. Making jokes was never exactly Ford's thing even when they were young, and he'd seemed even more humorless ever since he came back from wherever he'd been. “Yeah, pull the other one now.”

“I'm being serious. Everything I have written about them in my journal comes from hours spent climbing trees and sitting in shrubbery before dawn just hoping to see some of them. I tried to catch one more times than I can count, but I just never could. Care to let your brother in on your secret?”

“Would you believe, asking nicely?”

Ford frowned. “Okay, now you're pulling my leg.”

“Hilariously enough, I'm not. I tried for ages to catch one and had about as much luck as you. No matter what I tried, nothing worked. When I was trying to figure out where I was going wrong I thought to myself, 'Well, I've tried everything but asking politely.' and that seemed so completely ridiculous that I figured it couldn't hurt to try. So, when I manage to find one, I walked up to her as slow as I could to keep from scaring her away and then I quietly introduced myself and explained what I had in mind...and she went along with it.”

Ford looked utterly shocked. “I...I don't even know what to say to that.”

“Hey, no one's more surprised than I am that this somehow worked.” Stan replied.

“Well, okay, now I'm curious.” Ford said. “Rumor has it that dewdrop fairies will grant a wish to a human who manages to catch them. Something about doing so requiring a trait that they value highly...which apparently turns out to be good manners, I guess. I was never able to confirm this, for obvious reasons, so can you give me a yes or no on that?”

Stan could not believe he had forgotten that. As many times as he had read that journal and somehow everything about these ridiculously obscure fairies had stuck in his mind except their tendency to grant wishes. Well, he certainly didn't remember wishing for anything, and since that fairy was long gone it was probably too late to try now.

As Stan was about to tell Ford this, he heard Mabel squeal out in the yard. Stan turned to see what was happening. The glowing forms of two fairies came floating up from among the branches of the honeysuckle bush. One of them was green and, though it was impossible to see from this distance, judging by the shade of the glow, he thought that it might be the same fairy from earlier; the other glowed a pale, rosy pink. The two of them landed on a branch at the top of the bush; and in unison they let out a harmonious, trilling call that sounded something like a cross between birdsong and chiming bells.

The sound echoed out through the still evening. As the call faded into the distance, several fairies floated out from the tree line. Following them, more fairies began to trickle out from the woods; then the trickle became a torrent, as too many fairies to even count came flooding into view. In moments the air was filled with fairy lights of every shade imaginable. When it seemed as though the fairies had finished coming through the trees, one last fairy arrived; this one bathed in golden radiance brighter than the lights of all the other fairies. The golden fairy landed on the honeysuckle bush next to the first two fairies who had arrived; this fairy sang out a brief, bright tone and, in response, the assembled fairies let out a cheer. All at once the fairies burst into activity, the air was a swirling sea of light and color as the fairies began to dance; in groups both small and large they spun round, looped, and performed seemingly impossible feats of acrobatics, free from the restriction of gravity. And through it all, the newly fallen night was filled with the sound of their high, musical voices.

Stan heard Ford let out a small, surprised laugh, followed by, “Wow...oh, wow. Lee would you look at that?”

This gave Stan pause. Ford hadn't called him 'Lee' since they were kids. Stan looked over at his brother and could barely believe what he saw. Ford's eyes were wide and a grin broader than any Stan had seen in years formed on his lips. Ford's face was filled with almost child-like wonder and amazement, and it seemed that all of the anger and the bitterness of forty long years had melted away and, if only for this brief, shining moment, Ford was once again the brother Stan remembered from his youth; the brother he missed so much. Ford's mirth seemed to be infectious, because Stan felt a grin crossing his face as well and a warm, joyful feeling grew in his chest.

“Yeah, this is pretty amazing.”

Stan knew that this didn't really change anything between him and Ford, not really. There was a lot of bad blood between him and his brother, and he realized that one, admittedly pretty spectacular, light show wasn't going to bridge decades of mutual isolation and resentment. All this was, was a moment, but it was a very good moment; one of few that the two of them had shared in a very long time. It may not be able to fix anything, but maybe it was enough to be a start.

"Ya know, Ford? I think maybe I did get my wish."

A Summer's Evening
With all the fear and uncertainty in the Gravity Falls fandom right now, I felt like everyone needed a little fluffy, lighthearted Pines family bonding.
Yeah. I'm actually here and I've actually done something other than moving a lot of my older things into storage. I've been meaning to actually get back on here and doing things for a long while now, but I've just been dragging my feet. For a while it was that I was in school and that was taking up a lot of my time. After that I was out of work for a lot longer than I care to think about and I just couldn't muster up enough motivation to do much of anything. Now I'm working again and that's taking up a lot of my time; but I decided that I was done finding excuses to put my writing on the back burner. I'm honestly super embarrassed about how much I've let my writing fall to the wayside; the story I just posted is the first writing project I've actually finished probably since I left school. Between the previously mentioned reasons and my own crippling sense of self doubt I've abandoned a lot of writing projects about half-way through.

But anyway, I've been coming up with a lot of ideas both for fanfic and original fiction and even with a few ideas for non-fiction writing projects, and I'm going to be working on actually writing them.
“Mom, I'm home.” Michael called as he came in through the kitchen door, “You would not believe how many fish Uncle Stan and I caught!”

“Muddy shoes off on the porch, Michael, I just cleaned the floor,” His mother instructed. He quickly ducked back outside and pulled off his mud covered shoes. When he came back in she grinned and asked. “So, you had a good time with Uncle Stan?”

“Yeah, it was great. We sat out a the lake all day and we caught so many fish. Like, really, I can't believe how many fish. And there was no one else out on the lake, like all day. It was kind of amazing having the lake to ourselves.” Michael chattered, happily.

“Well, it's good that you had fun.” she said, reaching out to put an arm around her son, stopping herself when she noticed the mud and algae all over his shirt. “Where is your uncle Stan?”

“He'll be in soon. He's just getting the cooler out of the car.”

“Why is he getting a cooler?”

“Well, he and I thought that, since we were catching so many fish it would be a great idea to bring some home.”

“Michael, what have I said about pets?”

“Not as pets; for dinner,” Michael said, rolling his eyes; as though his meaning should have been perfectly clear. “Uncle Stan thought that it would be a shame to just keep throwing back so many fish, so we caught as many as we could carry and we brought them home to eat. Uncle Stan even showed me how to de-scale, gut, and de-bone the fish.”

“He what?!”

“I showed him how to de-scale, gut, and de-bone the fish we caught,” Stan said, entering with a Styrofoam cooler, “I didn't actually let him do it. Seriously, Lucille, just how dangerously irresponsible do you think I am?”

“Well, I know that you'd never intentionally let Michel get hurt, Stan, but that doesn't stop me from worrying.” Lucille said, taking the cooler from Stan and setting it on the counter. She lifted the lid and peered inside. “Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you caught a lot of fish. I'd say there's enough here for dinner tomorrow night and for a night or two after that.”

“Tomorrow? Why can't we have them tonight?” Michael asked.

“Because I have a casserole in the oven and some vegetables and rice steaming; and those will be ready in not too long.” Lucille said, matter-of-factly, “I'll put the fish in the freezer in just a bit and they'll keep just fine until tomorrow. And you are going to go upstairs, change out of those dirty clothes, and wash yourself up.”

“Okay, Mom.” Michael said. He turned, left the kitchen, and headed upstairs.

Lucille walked over to the counter and asked, “Would you like some coffee, Stan? I just made some fresh a while ago.”

“Sure, some coffee sounds great. Thanks, Lucille.” Stan said, taking a seat at the small table in the corner of the room.

“So, what exactly happened to Michael, Stan?” Lucille asked, taking two mugs down from the cabinet and pouring some coffee for herself and Stan.

“Well, when we first got to the lake Mikey tripped on something and went ass-over-tea kettle right into the water.” Stan explained. “Whatever he tripped over apparently ripped the sole right off one of his shoes; I couldn't do much for the kid, but I managed to put his shoe back together with some duct tape I had in the car. Although, I gotta say his other shoe didn't really look much better. He really needs a new pair.”

Lucille sighed, “Yes, yes he does.” She put one cup down in front of Stan and, still holding hers, sat down in the seat next to him.

“Listen, sorry we got back a bit later than we planned. Taking care of all those fish took a bit longer than I expected it to. I tried to call and let you know we were gonna be late, but I just got some message that your number wasn't in service. I tried, like, three times and it was always the same.”

“Yeah, I should have told you...our phone's been disconnected.” Lucille explained.

“What? Why?”

Lucille combed her fingers through her short, sandy blonde hair,“Well, you see they cut my hours back at work and there just wasn't enough money to cover all of our bills this month. I figured that the phone would probably be the easiest thing to do without for a while, so...I let the bill lapse.”

“Why didn't you say anything before?”

“I'm sorry, Stan. I know I should have told you. I just...” Lucille trailed off and just stared down at her coffee, “I...I don't know.”

Stan let out an exasperated sigh. He took his wallet from his back pocket, drew several bills out, and held them out to Lucille. “Here. It isn't much, but it should be enough to get your phone turned back on and get a decent pair of shoes for Mikey.”

“Stan, no! I don't want your money.” Lucille said.

“Just take the money, Lucille.” Stan insisted. “If not for yourself, then think about Mikey. Do you want him to go to school on Monday in shoes that could fall apart at any minute?”

Lucille frowned at Stan. Her frown deepened into a grimace of frustration. At last, she gave up and took the money from Stan and shoved it into her pocket. “I will pay this back to you, Stan,”she said. “Soon.”

“Don't worry about it, Lucille. There's no need to rush.”

“If you say so.” she said weakly. She bit her lip and turned away from Stan.

“Something else is bothering you, isn't it? C'mon, Lucille, what's wrong?”

Lucille took a sip of her coffee and sighed. “Earlier, while you and Michael were gone, Detective Tate stopped by.”

“Oh.” said Stan, “Did he...have some news?”

“He said that they're calling off the search for Stanley and officially closing the case.” Lucille said, quietly.

“Th-they are?”

“Yes, the detective was quite frank about it. He said that in the three months since he disappeared, they've gotten no closer to finding him than they were on the day he was reported missing. There are no leads, no suspects, not even the slightest hint about what happened to him. It's like he just vanished off the face of the Earth. He said that in instances like this; all of that usually means that either the person has left of their own accord and doesn't want to be found—which is so unlike Stanley that it hardly bears thinking about—or they've been...”she mouthed the word 'killed', “and someone has taken great pains to make sure that not a trace of them is found—which is just too awful to believe.” Lucille let out a soft sob and her eyes were glassy with un-shed tears.

Stan took her hand in his and squeezed it softly. “Don't believe it, Lucille.”


“The police may be ready to give up, but I'm not. And I promise you, Lucille, even if it takes the rest of my life; I will find my brother, and I'm going to bring him home. I can't really explain it very well right now, but you just have to believe me.”

Lucille squeezed his hand back and smiled through the stray tears that had managed to slip down her cheeks, “I trust you, Stan.”

The two of them sat like that for a minute. The hopeful silence was broken by the loud din of wood and metal crashing together outside.

“And I believe that would be the porch swing.” Lucille said. “It looked a bit loose when I was out there earlier, but I didn't think it would actually fall down.”

“Listen, I can't stay much longer, I have some things I need to take care of; but why don't I swing back 'round here tomorrow with my toolbox and see if I can't fix that for you?”

“Oh, no, Stan. I couldn't ask you to do that; you've done so much already.”

“Well, you're not asking me, I'm offering. Look, why don't we make a deal; I'll try to fix your swing and you save me some of that fish?”

Lucille smiled, “It's a deal.”

Stan stood up and said, “Sounds good. I do need to get going though. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Lucille stood as well. “Alright then. And Stan, thank you so much...for everything.” She wrapped her arms around him in a warm goodbye hug. She quickly scrubbed at her face, cleared her throat, and called upstairs, “Michael, Uncle Stan's leaving; come say goodbye.”

Moments later there was a loud thudding of footsteps down the stairs. Michael dashed into the kitchen and threw his arms around Stan's waist.

“Bye, Uncle Stan.”

“Bye, kiddo.”

“Can we go fishing again sometime?”

“Sure thing. Maybe weekend after next; if you keep on top of your school work and don't make any trouble for your ma. Can you do that?”

“I'll try.”

“You're a good kid.” Stan said, patting his nephew's head and ruffling his hair. He put an arm around Lucille's shoulder and drew her into a half-hug. “Take care of yourself, Lucille.”

“Thank you, Stan. And you too.”
Family Ties

So this is my first Gravity Falls fanfic. I actually started working on this a while ago, well before there was even any promotional material for 'A Tale of Two Stans'. That being said it was based in several common pre-'AToTS' assumptions; that Stan and his brother were quite close before his brother disappeared, that Stan's brother was Dipper and Mabel's grandfather(i.e. their father's father), and that Stan's brother was called Stanley. Well, you know what they say; when you assume things about Gravity Falls, Alex Hirsch makes and ass of you(or something like that).

I actually took a short break from working on this story to watch 'A Tale of Two Stans' the other night and I almost wish that I hadn't. The episode was great but it kind of killed my enthusiasm for this story for a while. After seeing the intense, emotional story that was 'AToTS', my little story about Stan Pines bonding with his brother's family and trying to help them in his brother's absence felt, at best, terribly quaint and, at worst, sort of pointless. For a little while, I actually thought of just scrapping it all together. In the end, finishing it was a personal thing for me, I just didn't want this to end up being another story I abandoned because I had a convenient excuse to quit.

Anyway, I thought about switching the Stans' names to what canon has revealed them to be, but I thought that might actually end up making things more confusing. So, just consider this a fluffy relic of a simpler time for Gravity Falls, before 'A Tale of Two Stans' made everything more complicated and everyone more sad.



Carla Smith
United States
Current Residence: Ohio
Yeah. I'm actually here and I've actually done something other than moving a lot of my older things into storage. I've been meaning to actually get back on here and doing things for a long while now, but I've just been dragging my feet. For a while it was that I was in school and that was taking up a lot of my time. After that I was out of work for a lot longer than I care to think about and I just couldn't muster up enough motivation to do much of anything. Now I'm working again and that's taking up a lot of my time; but I decided that I was done finding excuses to put my writing on the back burner. I'm honestly super embarrassed about how much I've let my writing fall to the wayside; the story I just posted is the first writing project I've actually finished probably since I left school. Between the previously mentioned reasons and my own crippling sense of self doubt I've abandoned a lot of writing projects about half-way through.

But anyway, I've been coming up with a lot of ideas both for fanfic and original fiction and even with a few ideas for non-fiction writing projects, and I'm going to be working on actually writing them.

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MewIly Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
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