#stanley kin alert

[spikyink]

Sometimes I feel like a head crab from half life. One hit from the crow bar and I’m out. I drew *once* today and was like “Yep. Ok. That’s enough of that. Do we have any ginger ale left?” It’s a horrible feeling but at least now I have ginger ale.

[gobblewanker]

So, uh, I've been pretty busy these last few days so I'm sorry for the lack of posts. But I decided to finally finish up an old one shot drabble I've had sitting in my phone since January. So, ye.

Hope you like Werewolf Stan.

Stanley was absolutely massive. Ford didn't have a good estimate as he was far less cooperative with him in this state than he was with the children, but he felt heavier than either of them in human form. That was only the most noticeable difference Ford could distinguish between him and a regular wolf though. His teeth were larger, seeming almost too big for his mouth, and the claws reminded him or sickles. His frame was sturdier, more front heavy, characteristic of a lone hunter rather than a pack based predator.

Yet despite all of that, there he was now. Lying stretched out on the floor in front of the TV and letting the two children poke and prod at him without as much as a warning growl. Like a very polite golden retriever.

Ford had expected tonight's excursion to end with him returning home to finish compiling his research on the effects of the full moon on wendigo migration patterns, comparing his new data with whatever remained of his notes from thirty years ago, and - if his paranoia allowed it - maybe even get some proper sleep in. He had expected observing the solitary and very territorial beasts without being detected to be the dangerous part. The one during which he might risk being attacked. He had not expected to be thrown onto the floor and pinned by a large creature covered in scraggly grey fur the second he entered the house.

He had deduced that it was a werewolf the second he looked into its far too human eyes. But hadn't spared a single thought as to who the person beneath the fur might have been. He'd been to busy trying to push against it's broad neck to keep the furiously snarling maw out of range of his own throat. Too busy cursing his own curiosity for compelling him to leave his family unguarded with a full moon high in the sky, and fighting against the raw terror that clawed up his back and whispered in his ear that this creature - this monster - had surely already killed Stanley and the kids when Ford should have been there to protect them.

In the end though, by the mercy of whatever good there was out in the multiverse, there would be no graves to dig and no next of kin to inform because appearing out of nowhere as if herself sent by some form of divine intervention was Mabel. Alive, uninjured, Mabel.

She cried out in alarm and rapidly descended the remainder of the stairs despite Ford's breathlessly shouted demands that she return to the attic and barricade herself along with her brother. Mabel did no such thing. With the foolish fearlessness only a child could posesses, she threw herself at the head of the werewolf, grabbed two small fistfuls of it's fur, and yanked. Shockingly, the beast did allow itself to be pulled back. If only the slightest bit.

"No! Bad!" She admonished firmly, as if she was handling a rowdy pet, rather than a monster the size of a small car made out of muscles and teeth.

Before Ford could move to put a stop to her suicidal overconfidence, she had somehow managed to plant herself firmly between her still prone great uncle and the werewolf. The large unkempt animal lunged at Mabel. Maw open and snapping at her neck. For a second, Ford could have sworn he actually felt his heart stop. But there was no blood or screaming. Instead, jagged yellow fangs caught the fabric on the back of her sweater collar. Tugging her back like a mother wolf grabbing a disobedient pup by the scruff of it's neck. She yelped as her backside connected with the floorboards, but showed no further signs of distress. In fact, as the animal worriedly shoved it's snout in her face with such force and hurry it nearly knocked her over, she giggled. Tiny hands pushing it away with little regard for how close her fingers were to it's teeth.

"Ew, your nose is all wet!" Mabel laughed.

Again, it was Mabel who broke the stalemate. Quietly pressing a hand to the werewolf's side and slowly stepping closer to Ford again. She didn't remove her hand from it's fur, letting it trail along with her as she carefully moved. As if the only thing keeping the creature restrained was her small hand resting reassuringly in its pelt. Ford was half convinced it was.

Ford was absolutely dumbfounded, but despite his fight or flight instincts practically screaming at him to get Mabel away from the creature now, it showed no signs of hostility at all. At least not aimed at the child. The second Ford attempted to push himself back up off of the ground a deep rumble tore from the werewolf's throat. It whipped it's head around, instantly alert again. Eyes blown wide and assessing, ears pressed flat against it's head. It took one markedly distrusting step to the side, very deliberately placing itself between Mabel and Ford this time. Never letting the man out of eyesight. Ford glared back, hoping against hope that rising to the challenge wouldn't escalate things. Faltering gave animals the confidence to attack: A painful lesson permanently etched into his skin.

The creature let out another rumbling growl as Mabel apparently stepped closer to Ford than it was comfortable letting her, but this time all it took was another firm but gentle reprimand for the growl to break into a low whine. It's eyes flitting worriedly between Ford and Mabel.

"It's okay." She spoke carefully, reaching out to take one of Ford's hands in her unoccupied one. The growl flared up again, even if just for a moment. "No. It's okay, Grunkle Stan. It's just Ford."

She pressed Ford's palm to the werewolf's head, between it's - too human, too sharp, deep brown - eyes. His fingers sunk into the fur, Mabel's small hand still splayed on top of his. His fur was thinning, missing in patches over gnarled scar tissue, and almost the exact same shade of grey as...

"Stanley?"

Recognition finally flickered in those familiar brown eyes. Only to almost immediately be replaced by horror. Stan pulled his head back swiftly and pressed himself low against the floor. He covered his face with two enormous paws, and let out a low, guilty, whine. Ford just watched in stunned silence.

Ultimately, Mabel had convinced both her grunkles to move back into the tv room, gone to wake up her brother, and insisted on settling down to watch a late night movie. No doubt all in a valiant effort to lift the tense atmosphere. So there they were now: Mabel was doing her best to braid the longer fur around Stan's neck, cramming every hair clip she owned into his wild mane, while Dipper lifted, squeezed, and turned one of his massive paws over in his hands, trying to make an accurate sketch of it. All while both children were half-laying on him like a scraggly pillow. Mabel had even brought her pet pig down from the attic, and despite what Ford had expected and feared might happen, even in wolf form Stan showed absolutely no inclination to harm what logically speaking should be a very natural prey animal. All he did was grumble, and shove the pig away with a padded foot when it began to nibble at his ear.

He was the very picture of self control.

And yet he'd attacked Ford.

His own brother hadn't recognized him. Had categorised him as a threat.

As Ford watched from the doorway as his small family settled down into the comfortably tired haze of domesticity, he wondered how he could have ever let something like this happen.

[mikeywheeler-kincare]

So I recently discovered my Stanley Uris kin, and I had two timelines as him. May I request some headcanons of Patty x Stan x Bill for the one poly timeline I had? - Stanley

OOO HELLO OTHER STANLEY I WOULD LOVE TO FILL THIS

headcanons under the cut !!!

- mod richie (fondue shift)

SO we’re working with patty x stan x bill

that’s a p nice ship if u ask me

in fact, it’s SO nice that all of the other losers are absolutely in love w the trio !!

everybody ships it, and something tells me that another loser might’ve wanted in (albeit playfully asking) and got told that it’s a closed poly–everyone laughed and the loser that asked was,,, very embarrassed

btw i have a feeling that was richie don’t @ me

ANYWAY

stan definitely goes out of his way to please patty and bill

like patty will be setting up to cook dinner for her boys and stan is like

“no no, honey, step aside, i’ve got this”

and then bill is like hey wait a minute–

and he goes

“wait no–i’ll do it!”

bc he wants to feel included

and the three end up working on dinner together

and then there’s the cuddles

they don’t even care what’s on TV when they all cuddle together, if they don’t think they’re going to cuddle and then fall asleep

then

well

they’re wrong!

like sometimes they sit down on the couch to watch richie’s newest comedy act on comedy central

and they end up completely distracted bc bill is playing w stan’s hair and patty is watching bc it’s rly rly fuckign cute

and stan is just like uwu bu t like. not furry . would that be uvu??? idk man

aaaand finally

if stan ever gets self-conscious bc of how he considered death being optimal or whatever else

oh my goodness

bill tells patty something like “RED ALERT” and patty starts making fuckign brownies or cookies and bill just snuggles w stan

and stan might cry a little bit bc he has trouble coping w all that

and then patty brings out the desserts and they end up feeding each other adorably

I AM SO HAPPY NOW WRITING THOSE WAS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY