#stan pines x oc

[dughck]

If it pleases the court, I'd like to present to y'all my gravity falls OC, Reynaud "Ronny" Sawyer. Thank you.

[i-prefer-base-twelve]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stan Pines/Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Bar, mild violence, shameless flirting, No Smut, Stan's body has been de-aged to about age 40 in a previous episode, Post-Weirdmaggedon, Christian fundamentalists Series: Part 5 of The Juneau Series Summary:

Stan goes on a Tinder date. It goes well! ... for Gravity Falls values of "well."

---

I had this vision of Stan delivering this pickup line and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I made it your problem. So... here we are. I hope you like it!

[thewallflowerwriter]

Something bothers him all the way through the last tour of the day. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but whatever it is, it sends tickling shivers up his spine, makes him want to run out into the forest for the rest of the night til he can get rid of the tightening in his gut, makes him want to shred his skin to bloody ribbons, to lock himself in his bedroom and stick his hands down his pants-

Oh.

AKA: the Mystery Shack gets an interesting customer and Stan has a good time. (Or, a NSFW A/B/O oneshot featuring a gross cartoon old man and my OC because I have brainrot 🙃)

[zander-stardust]

Stan is a very lucky man. ;P

[mahisquared]

Friday I'm In Love Ch 2

Rating: Teen

Word count: 4292

AN: Drug mention

Fic summary: When Elfie comes to Gravity Falls to help her friend propose, she wasn't expecting to experience the wildest summer of her life. With the return of demonic forces imminent, Elfie must band together with the Pines family, and finds love along the way.

I hope you all enjoy the second chapter! You can find it right here!

~

“So what was this about an apology?” Elfie asked, finally stepping out of the house. She was now appropriately clothed, much to the relief of the two men standing before her.

"I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for, y’know, insulting your friend and stuff. That uh. Was pretty shitty of me. So yeah. Sorry ‘bout that,” Stan said, kicking the ground and scuffing his shoe. “I won’t do it again. I hope you can forgive me.”

There was a small silence, and Elfie looked at him critically.

“Not the greatest apology in the world, but I’ll take it,” she finally said.

“What do you want, a glittery sticker and a kiss on the cheek?” Stan said grumpily, crossing his arms. Soos elbowed him hard and Elfie smiled.

~

It was too long to put in this post oops, so you'll have to access it through the link!

[axolotaquestions]

I think about that one part in SoS very often thank you for asking (no one asked)

[hubbabubbagumpop]

Something for myself and my needs to take care of fictional old men

[nellandvoid]

when you try to flirt with the weird guy from the cabin in the woods but he’s so depressed that he doesn’t even look at you while you’re talking to him

panels from a scrapped first meet concept (ended up changing how they actually meet) but i love how they look aka: i spent so much fucking time drawing them that i couldn’t just not show y’all

they do still first “meet” when stan does his first tour and takes ford’s identity, but they don’t actually meet-meet until about a week later

she worked as a janitor at dusk 2 dawn at the time and would deliver groceries to the actual ford when he stopped doing his weekly restock (he helped her clean up a spill once so she decided she owed him her life) so they have their first one-on-one convo when she goes to drop the groceries off and stan invites her in to look around as a thank-you when he recognizes her from the tour, and she agrees cause she was originally very curious about why ford never let her into his cabin before when dropping off groceries and then became even MORE curious when he just. randomly charges everyone to come take a tour of the place

[heartsgravitating]

Howdy! I don't usually advertise here because its my like, relax/hobby account but I'm a bit short on rent this month I'm open for Gravity Falls commissions either in show style (or as close as I can) or my style! ocxcannon is A-okay with me! Fullbodies (sale) $50 extra characters + $40 Colored sketch $30 extra characters+ $20 feel free to pm me here or on my Twitter @ Annakitsun3 please have a reference for your OCs! <3 I take Venmo, cash app, Kofi, paypal

[azierumart]

more doodles plus the one from yesterday. i’m procrastinating sleeping cuz school tmr which is a terrible idea but too late now

[dughck]

I'm writing Gravity Falls Stan x OC fic and u wanna read it.

The first chapter is my personal best of 4.100 words round abouts MC is trans masc and disable because we love putting ourselves into our work THERE ARE TRANSPHOBIC BEHAVIOURS MENTIONED AND DISCUSSED BUT NOTHING SHOWN DIRECTLY!!! Anyways pls pls pls pls read it it would make my day!! (I'm speed running it, hoping to finish it before my shunt replacement surgery >:} (two weeks lol))

[annajustdraws]

Gave Stan a mermaid gf just because ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

[starclast]

👓💕

[norman-cipher]

Gravity falls x owl house (genderbend)

[mahisquared]

This isn't canon to Friday I'm In Love, it's just a writing warm up I did while working on the second chapter! I think some of the dialog will be familiar to most of you. If not, be sure to do a rewatch of the show and watch the end slates!

Not sure when the second chapter will be out. Very early stages of course, but I hope those of you reading it enjoy!

[jen-with-a-pen]

Honeysuckle ❀ IV

SERIES ❀ PREVIOUS ❀ NEXT

summary: You and Bucky are getting ready for another one of Stark's Signature Events when Bucky finds out his outfit has been sabotaged. Accident or not, pink just might be his color after all.

pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, embarrassed Bucky, the color pink, sam didn't mean it he was just fucking around, outfit descriptions for reader but little to no mention of body description, fluff and closeness and light touching and slight ✨feelings✨

word count: 1.68k

original a/n: yes this was inspired by the pink met gala look. no i will not be taking further questions. also, just like the other parts of Honeysuckle, this is standalone in this lovely little universe i've managed to create. love u all as always ♥ edit a/n: going back through this one was a delight :3 i like seeing how my writing has grown exponentially since first writing these idiots ♥

a/n 04/2024: hi! i have gone through and rewritten and reformatted a few parts in the fic in order to make it flow better and to ensure it has all-inclusive language in it (this was one of my first fics in the fandom and was not as educated as i am now.) if there are any mistakes, please feel free to DM me and kindly let me know :)

divider by @firefly-graphics | gif by @itz-me-aggie | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist

Read this fic HERE on ao3! - coming soon to ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

“Bucky, we’re gonna be late!” You called from your perch on the couch. You finally secured the bracelet you’d been struggling with for five minutes when a loud groan answered from behind the cracked bathroom door, followed by a painful, “Goddamnit!” 

You jumped as Bucky’s voice shook his apartment. Cautiously, you rose from the couch and moved to the door, muttered cursing and muffled thuds coming from behind it, freezing when Bucky called your name before you could grab the door handle.

“Uh, yeah, Buck?” You swallowed, nervous, thinking of ways to navigate his tone. You’d never heard him talk like this before. Ever.

Bucky cursed again. “Gah–fuck me– could you go ‘n get Sam?” The icy undertones of his request sent a chill down your spine.

“Wh– Buck, we gotta get going, why would you want–”

“Now, Honey.” 

His demand came stronger than you expected, sending you reeling back from the door. You blinked. He sighed immediately after he checked himself, frustrated, uttering another curse under his breath before trying again.

“Now, Honey, please?” His voice softened, granted there was still an edge to it. You paused, even more confused as to why he wanted Sam, of all people, right this fucking second. The gala was starting in twenty minutes and you were already running behind.

“I– Yes.”

A quiet ‘thank you’ followed you out into the hallway as you made a bee-line for Sam’s quarters. Heel clicks echoed off the tile floor, bouncing off the walls as you quickened your pace, stopping abruptly at Sam’s quarters. You pounded on the door, calling out his name. No response.

“Sam Wilson, get out here, damnit!” You yelled, fists readied for another swing at the door. Just before making contact, the door flew open, revealing one Sam Wilson with a brow cocked and busy hands looping a wine-red tie around his popped collar.

“Damn, Honeysuckle, didn’t know you were capable of using such language,” he tisked. You rolled your eyes.

“Sam, Bucky needs you,” you spat out. Sam paused, brow dropping while a dismissive smirk plastered his face. He didn’t believe you. And, honestly, who would?

Sam scoffs a laugh. “Why? Does he need help oiling his gears?”

He stifled a chuckle but you weren’t in any mood to laugh. You instead lunged, yanking him out into the hallway with you, slamming the door shut. He instantly dropped the act.

“Will you just shut the fuck up and come with me?” You demanded through gritted teeth. For all you knew, Bucky could be suffering from another panic attack. Alone. The mere thought of that made your heart hammer harder. And if being late and Sam’s thick skull hadn’t already pissed you off, that sure as hell did.

“Okay, alright, I’m comin’.” Sam nodded, following you down the hallway, still fiddling with his tie. 

“He’s in there,” you said, pointing to the bathroom door as the two of you entered Bucky’s quarters. Sam led the way, gently knocking on the door.

“Bucky? It’s me, can I come in?”

Not a word was uttered as the door cracked open slowly and a metal-plated arm jutted out, yanking Sam into the bathroom before quickly slamming it closed. You flinched, the small living room settling into silence as you stood outside the bathroom, hands fidgeting with the glittery fabric of your dress. It felt like ages of nothing but incoherent, hushed conversation coming from the other side of the door. At your wit’s end, you were about to yell break the door down yourself when Sam started cackling at the top of his lungs. 

Now you were really confused.

“Honey!” He managed to call between howls. “Get in here!”

You hesitated. Gripping the handle, you cautiously pushed the door open to a scene that was the last thing you could have possibly imagined.

Sam stood by the sink, bent over in stitches while tears brimmed his eyes in futile attempts at trying– and failing– to stop laughing. His suit jacket wrinkled at the waist as he jutted an arm out from his stomach, bracing himself on the countertop. 

“Sam what the fuck–!” you began to scold him, turning your head to Bucky. 

Your jaw dropped.

The hulking ex-hitman stood against the opposite wall with his head bent to the floor, loose strands of hair falling from his slicked-back ponytail. His arms crossed over his chest, failing to cover the source of Sam’s outburst: his bright pink dress shirt. And it wasn’t like a typical white-shirt-got-in-with-the-reds-type pink. No, his shirt was as if a flamingo colored itself with a highlighter and then rolled in cotton candy. Bucky’s face was close to matching the hue perfectly as Sam continued to holler over the bathroom sink.

“Oh! Oh, Bucky,” you cooed, voice wavering as you bit back a smile. You stepped toward him, placing your hands on his sulking shoulders. He dared not to look up from his staring contest with the floor as his face became even more flushed at your touch.

“Hey, Buck,” you coaxed as you gently lifted his chin with a finger, “look at me will ya?”

He sighed, relenting, finally meeting your stare. Baby blues beamed right through you as he held your gaze with sad, puppy-dog eyes you couldn’t resist looking away from.

“How did this even happen?” You questioned him, and Sam, looking between them.

“I asked Sam for help doing my own laundry,” Bucky groaned, “and he told me to just throw everything in. Even the reds ‘n whites.” 

“Sam!” You whipped around, shooting daggers as your grip tightened on Bucky’s shoulders. 

“What? He asked, I helped!” he defended. “Didn’t think he’d actually take me seriously!”  Sam wiped away a tear as he caught his breath, smoothing out his suit. Utterly speechless at the minimal amount of brain cells Sam apparently possessed, and empathetic to Bucky’s situation and sweet, sweet naivety, you sighed as thoughts raced to think of ways to remedy the situation so you all could at least show up by the end of cocktail hour because you really fucking needed a drink.

You looked to Bucky, chewing your lip, searching his features for an answer. Then it hit you.

“Wait here,” you ordered, “both of you.” You pointed to Sam as you made way to the elevator in the hallway as fast as your heels could carry you. Once on your floor, you sprinted into your apartment, hurrying to your closet in search of the dress you remembered immediately dismissing when Wanda was helping you choose what to wear for that night. Something you’d never be caught wearing ever, especially at such a public event. With cameras. And strangers.

Do it for Bucky, do it for Bucky, do it for Bucky.

You stripped your old dress off, leaving it on the floor of your closet as you wiggled yourself into the 'eye sore of the century’– your words, in contrast to Wanda’s literal heart eyes when you’d tried it on– and prayed to anything holy that this would make Bucky feel better.

You raced out the door and back into the elevator, hoping F.R.I.D.A.Y. was the only one to see you. So far.

“Man, hey,” Sam nodded to Bucky, who still refused to look him in the eye. Sam rolled his eyes, heart filling with just a tad bit of guilt for messing with him. 

“Buck–”

“Don’t call me Buck.”

“Okay, you know what? I’m sorry. There, ya happy?”

Bucky grunted in response, shifting his weight as he continued to analyze the tiled flooring.

“Bucky, c’mon, I–” Sam stopped mid-sentence, interrupted as the bathroom door whipped open, revealing you standing in the threshold. Your arms crossed over your chest holding a black suit jacket. A bubblegum pink midi dress complete with a multitude of sequins hugged you as you waited for Bucky to notice. Sam sure as hell did.

“Bucky– Honey– Woah.” Sam straightened, adjusting his tie and buttoning his jacket.

Sam’s reaction snapped Bucky out of his trance. His eyes skimmed from the floor to your heels, eyes growing wider and wider as he made his way up to meet your sharp gaze. Without hesitation, you cocked a hip and threw the jacket at him. He caught it, confused, bewildered, utterly mesmerized. Still clueless, however, he looked down at it then back at you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d be drooling. 

“C’mon Buck, get dressed or we won’t make it in time for cocktail hour,” you huffed, tapping at an imaginary wristwatch. 

Bucky gulped. A deer in headlights. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the biggest grin breaking out on Sam’s face. Without another word, he placed a quick peck on your cheek and snuck past you, closing the door. Finally, Bucky seemed to snap back to reality and did as you asked. He swung the jacket over his broad shoulders, adjusting the cuffs and moving to the mirror. You stepped behind him, observing him over his shoulder as he adjusted his tie. 

“You didn’t have to do this, ya know,” he muttered, his small smirk quickly growing across his lips.

“Yes, I did,” you replied, grabbing his waist and spinning him towards you. Manicured fingers reached for his collar, adjusting it as you locked eyes with him. You offered a soft, genuine smile as you tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear. He returned with one of his own, a free hand finding its way to your waist while your own slid down to stay on his cheek. Your thumb softly stroked his cheek, smooth from when he shaved that morning. In that moment it was as if you were pulling each other closer and closer with each passing second, the air magnetizing as hands lingered for seconds longer than you both were used to. 

In this light, something inside of you screams at how handsome he is.

You ignore it, though, instead suddenly remembering you both had a gala to get to.“Now, let’s go,” you said, dragging him out of his apartment. “I need a damn drink.”