#stanmily au

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Hey!

Anyone have any au questions or doodle requests?

Bc if you do I'll take 'em!

[lilacs-gf-dump]

I read This fun fanfic by @thepeanutbutterwizard​​​ and had to start doodling, which of course turned into full line art and color. It’s a pretty cute read and not too long, def go check it out. Oh and I also did this 

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Building Blocks of a Family:  Soos

More Stanmily au!  (Better late than never, am I right?)

Word count: 1,045

”Okay kiddo, here ya go.” Stan stood back from the bed he had just gotten set up against the wall.  “Yer room is all set up and ready fer ya to move in.”  Soos had been crashing on the couch in the living room while his Abuelita was in the hospital after tumbling down a staircase.  Stan still couldn’t believe the old lady had asked him to share custody of the kid with her, now that she had to move into a retirement home.  He turned back to the doorway, but he didn’t see any of the kids standing where they had been only a few moments before.

Stan stuck his head out into the hall.  Down a ways he saw his suit coat and fez lying in a lump on the floor with a lock of red hair sticking out.  Stan walked over and crouched next to the lump.  Wendy was burrowed under the coat, and the fez was pulled down over her eyes.  “Huh.  I don’t remember leaving these here.”  Stan poked the jacket, a small smile coming to his face when Wendy giggled.  The girl pushed the fez back off of her eyes.  “Where’d yer siblings go?”

"That way.”  Wendy pointed down the hall that lead to the attic staircase.  He turned the corner and found Soos sitting on the bottom step of the stairs with three toddlers sitting in front of him and watching with fascination as he pulled the collar of his large Mystery Shack shirt up over his head, like a turtle pulling back into its shell, then popping his head back out with a cry of “Peek-a-boo doods!”

Mabel gave a delighted shriek, flopping backwards onto the hall floor and laughing louder than a three year old should be able to.  Mason just sat and stared at Soos in apparent amazement.  And sitting in between the twins and clapping happily was the infant daughter of Gravity Falls resident rich snobs, Pacifica Northwest.  Stan had taken up the lucrative Northwest nanny gig a little over three months earlier, after a series of bribes and forged papers, and honestly, it was a decision he did not regret.  It paid well, and Pacifica was a surprisingly sweet kid given who her parents were.

Stan scowled slightly at the thought of the Northwest’s.  What kind of parents had a butler drop their only kid off at a stranger’s house for over ten hours a day without a second thought?  Stan brushed his rising anger aside; he had kids to take care of, and he didn’t want them to think he was mad at one of them.  The last thing Stan wanted was to be like his father, making his kids worry about him getting upset at them.

“Hey, you kid’s havin’ a party without me?”  Stan scooped the three toddlers up amid shrieks of laughter.  He easily balanced all three squirming children in his arms, twisting his face away from tiny hands that were reaching for his eyes and glasses.

“The tiny doods kept tryin’ to get up into the attic, so I had to distract ‘em.”  Soos popped to his feet with a grin.

“Good job kid.  I got yer room all set up if ya wanna unpack and get settled.”  Stan shifted his grip on the squirming infants, keeping a close eye on Pacifica who seemed like she was trying to jump to the floor.

“Hmm, I think I’ll do that after dinner.”  Soos reached up and grabbed the blonde baby for Stan.  “These little doods look like they’re gettin’ hungry.  Isn’t that right Paz?”  He didn’t seem bothered when Pacifica reached up and grabbed clumps of his hair.

“I’m hungry!”  Wendy piped up.

“Food!”  Mabel shrieked in Stan’s ear.  “Foodfoodfoodfood!”

Stan gave a small chuckle.  “Alright ya little gremlins, dinner it is.  Whadda you kids want?”

“Stancakes!”  The kids all chorused.

Stan crept backward out of his room, shutting the door on the twins in their crib in the corner as silently as possible.  He turned, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Soos standing barely two feet behind him, silent as a ghost.  “What the- Soos!”

“I got Wendy to finally go to bed Mr. Pines.”  The boy whispered as they tiptoed down the hall away from the sleeping infants.  “And one’a the butler doods came and got Paz.”

“Was it Big-Nose or Killer-Eyebrows?”

“It was a new dood with a mustache that looks like a broom is glued to his face.”  Soos waggled his fingers under his nose and giggled.

Stan gave a small snort.  “Did ya call yer Abuelita yet?” The old lady would have his head if she didn’t hear from Soos at least once a day.

“Yeah, right after you went to put the twins down.  She said ta tell you to make sure I eat my fruits and veggies.

They stopped in front of Soos’ new room.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”  Stan opened the door.  “So, uh, here we are.  Whadda ya think of yer bedroom?”

“It’s perfect Mr. Pines!” Soos cheered, smiling up at Stan. All of the kid’s things were still packed in boxes stacked against the wall, blankets were piled on top of the unmade bed, and the paint was chipped and peeling in the corners, but the way Soos was looking at everything you’d think Stan had just given him a penthouse suite or the keys to a French summer home.

Stan gave a small chuckle. “Y’know, since yer living here now ya don’t have ta call me Mr. Pines.”

Soos gaped up at Stan.  “Really?”

“Uh, yeah.  Just call me ‘Stan’ if ya want.”

The boy jumped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Stan’s waist.  “Okay!  Thanks Mr. P- Stan!”

Stan awkwardly patted Soos’ shoulder.  “Uh, yeah, sure.  Now, would ya quit wrinkling my suit and get in bed?  Ya have school tomorrow.”

”Yes sir Stan sir!” Soos gave a goofy little salute that Stan couldn’t help but smile at.  The boy turned to head into his room, but stopped and turned back to Stan. “Um, what’re you gonna do with...those?” He pointed down the hall to where more than a dozen wax figures, the previous occupants of his room, were stacked haphazardly.

“I’ll...find somewhere to put ‘em.”

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Building Blocks of a Family:  Wendy

More Stanmily au stuff.  Title is self explanatory.

Word count: 3,411

Enjoy!

“-and don’t forget to tell your friends about us here at the Mystery Shack!”  Stan’s voice boomed in the gift shop as he waved at the last crowd of the day from the front door.  “And remember, we put the Fun in-”

“No wefuns!”  The two toddlers he was carrying chorused.  Mabel and Mason had been getting antsy during the last tour.  They started whining and shaking the baby gate as Stan lead the tour by, so he had scooped them up and brought them along.  He gave the newest Mystery Shack resident, little Wendy, a glance to see if she had wanted out too, but she just glared at him over the blocks she was playing with, so Stan left her behind the baby gate and the ‘Worlds Cutest Kids!’ attraction sign.

“Mr. Pines!”  A squeaky voice called out behind him. Stan turned to see Soos, his new handy man, walking over in his too-large Mystery Shack t-shirt.  When Stan had ‘hired’ Soos about three days ago, he hadn’t really expected to see the kid again.  But when he showed up bright and early one morning, well, Stan wasn’t one to turn down free labor.  “What do you want me to do?”

“Lock up while I get food for the munchkins, would ya?  Then bring Wendy into the dining room and sweep up the museum and gift shop.”

“Yes sir Mr. Pine’s sir!” Soos said enthusiastically.  Mason had his hand in his mouth and was sucking on his fingers, and Mable started waving and babbling at Soos when he darted around Stan and the kids to lock the door.  He stopped for a moment to wave back, delighting Mabel, then turned his attention back to locking up.

In the kitchen, Stan settled into a familiar routine.  Buckle the kids into their seats, get the applesauce out, warm up the peas, double check Mason’s seat buckle (he was a little escape artist, and he always busted his sister out too), warm the cooked carrots, fill the Sippy cups, juice for Mason and chocolate milk for Mabel, triple check Mason’s seat buckle, and make sure the baby spoons were clean before sitting down to start the delicate and complicated dance that was feeding two two-year-olds at once.

“Um, Mr. Pines?”  Soos said from the doorway into the kitchen. Stan looked back to see him nervously fiddling with his fingers.

“What’s up gumdrop? Break something?  And where’s Wendy?”  Stan said, turning back to the toddlers.

“Well, y’see, I went to go get her dood, but when I checked the play-traction, well, I couldn’t find her.” Soos’s voice quivered a little at the end, and when Stan looked back at him again, the boy looked like he was about to cry.

Stan gave a small sigh, then stood “Hey, simmer down now.  ‘S not yer fault.”  Stan tried to calm the boy down.  He really didn’t want to have to deal with a crying twelve year old employee on top of a missing five year old and a pair of hungry two year olds.  “Wendy’s a slippery little kid, gets away from me all the time.  Yer not in trouble or anything.  Ah,” Stan, struck by an idea, stood up from the table “here, you feed the twins, I’ll go find Wendy.”

Soos looked up at Stan with an awestruck expression for a moment.  It was a little unnerving to Stan, but it didn’t last long.  “You got it Mr. Pines!”  Soos said, bounding over to the table.

“Okay, just a few quick things.”  Stan says, handing the spoons to Soos, “Mason won’t eat the carrots, so he has to eat more peas.  Mabel likes to mix the carrots and the applesauce, disgusting, I know, but she likes it.  She’ll also paint her face with her food and throw it everywhere, so watch that. Masons won’t give ya much trouble. And whatever ya do, do not let either one of them hold the spoons, or they’ll try ta feed you.  Got it, gumdrop?”

“Yeah dood. I got this.” Soos said, then turned to the twins “Aww, lookit you two little doods!”  He cooed.  Mabel clapped her hands and babbled a string of nonsense words, smiling widely at Soos.  Mason finally stopped sucking on his fingers, and gave a thoughtful scowl while pointing at Soos with a pudgy finger.

“Soo.”  Mason said.  Then, he broke into a large grin, pleased with himself.  “Soo, soo, soo!”  He started chanting, and soon Mabel started doing it too.

“Yeah dawgs, that’s me!” Soos cheered, smiling as widely as the twins.

Yeah, they’ll be fine. Stan thought before leaving the kitchen. Soos was a great kid really.  Stan was glad he had showed up at the Shack.  Now, if I was a mischievous red head preschooler, where would I be?

He checked the museum first, looking behind all of the attractions, and paying special attention to the places he’s found her hiding before.  It had been a month since the...Incident that had lead to Wendy living at the Shack, and only two weeks since Stan had officially adopted her. Stan wasn’t quite sure that she understood fully what the words ‘your parents have died’ meant, but it had sunk in quickly that they weren’t coming back any time soon.  The lively girl had become withdrawn and quiet, barely speaking to anyone.  She would open up to the twins more than anyone else, but that still wasn’t saying much. Wendy had taken to disappearing when Stan wasn’t looking, messing with an attraction, then hiding somewhere, a cycle that was starting to really grate on Stan’s nerves.  If he had to re-stitch that dumb Fiji mermaid one more time...

A tremendous CRASH sounded in the gift shop, making Stan jump.  Soos cries out from the kitchen “I didn’t do it!” as the twins squeal loudly.  Stan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.  He could feel his grey hairs multiplying as he stalked to the gift shop.

Wendy was surrounded by shattered snow globes, a shelf pulled off the wall behind her, and water soaking into her socks.  And to top it all off, Wendy was standing with her feet planted and her arms crossed, a defiant glare on her face.  This was no accident.

“All right young lady, that is it!”  Stan growled.  He marched over, glass crunching under his shoes as he scooped Wendy up and away from the sharp shards.  “I’m through with this, you’re gonna be the one who’s cleaning this up.”

Wendy glared at Stan as he set her down.  As soon as she was standing on her own two feet again, she kicked Stan in the shin, hard. He bit back a curse and jumped on one foot, clutching his leg.

“No!” Wendy shrieked, “No, no, NO!” Her face reddened and she stomped her feet with each word, her socks squishing on the wood floor.  

“No, what?”  Stan hollered over her, putting his throbbing leg down.  That’s gonna bruise. “No cleaning up?  Cause too bad, I’m moving the glass and then you’re mopping up missy.”

”NO, I’m NOT!  You can’t tell me what to do!  YOU’RE NOT MY DAD!”  Wendy screamed, her voice reaching pitches only dogs could hear.  Stan stood, stunned by the outburst, and only watched as Wendy turned and ran, powering up the stairs as fast as she could, up to the attic and away from Stan.

Stan took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.  Great.  Just great. What do I do now?  Some old doubts from his first few weeks raising Dipper and Mabel reared their ugly heads.  Who did Stan think he was anyway, trying to raise three kids by himself?  He was the first person to point out how under qualified he was to even be around kids, let alone raise three that weren’t even his. At least with Dipper and Mabel he was related to them, albeit in a bit of a roundabout way.  Wendy was just a neighbor kid, a little girl he babysat on occasion.  She came to be his ward on accident.

What are you doing Stan?  Go after the kid before she does something else dangerous!  The rational part of Stan, the part that sounded like Ford, yelled at him in his head.  Stan took a step in the direction Wendy had run, and then he remembered the mess of broken glass behind him and the three other children in the house that could walk through it.  Stan grabbed some caution cones out of a closet to section off the area, then he quickly gathered up all the big pieces, throwing them in the trash.

Stan yelped, biting back a curse as one of the last pieces sliced into his palm.  He threw the last few pieces into the garbage with more force than necessary.  Stan looked at the cut as he darted into the bathroom to get the first aid kit.  It was long, but shallow.  Stan was able to quickly, if awkwardly, bandage it.  He wadded the extra gauze in his pocket, planning on cleaning up the first aid kit later.

Now, to find Wendy. She was probably hiding in the attic bedroom, where all of her things were.  Stan opened the door with trepidation, expecting to be attacked again.  Nothing happened.  He pushed the door wide open and flipped on the light.  He moved to look under the bed, but stopped when something caught his eye.  The window was open.  Oh no.

Stan threw himself to the window, leaning out far and not really noticing the height.  “Wendy?!”  His voice cracked as he called out, peering down to the dark ground below.  “Kid, where’d ya go?”  Stan’s heart slowed a little when he didn’t see a small body on the ground below, the area illuminated by light coming from the Shack, but not by much.  “Ah, whaddo I do? Where did she-no I gotta, I gotta go after her, but where did she-” Stan pulled himself back into the room and stumbled back into a wall.  He was panicking.  “Gah, I knew this would happen.  Who am I kidding?  Why did I think I could take care’a these kids without screwing it up?”  Stan knew, distantly, that he should do something, anything but stay in that room freaking out, but he couldn’t.  He didn’t know what to do, so he sank to the ground, burying his head in his hands and bumping the hamper on his way down.

The hamper gave a yelp. Stan started, then turned towards it. He pulled the top layer of clothes off the apparently empty hamper, revealing a head of red hair.  “Wendy!”  Stan reached into the basket, ignoring the stinging in his hand, and plucked her out of the laundry, pulling her into his lap  “Do you have any idea how much you just scared me, young lady?”  He let out a sigh, more of a huff of air than anything, and leaned back, banging his head against the wall and knocking his fez off. The spike of adrenaline he had felt at seeing the open window faded, leaving him feeling more tired than the relatively quiet day should have left him. 

“Are you...crying?” Wendy’s voice was quiet; the quietest Stan had ever heard her.  When he looked down at her, he saw her looking up at him, her head cocked to the side, with a confused look on her face.  With a start, Stan noticed the wetness prickling at the corners of his eyes.  Just from shock or adrenaline or something.

“No, I’m not crying.” The response was immediate. “My eyes are just waterin’ from the light.  Thought you had gone out the window or something, stuck my head out. It was dark out there.”  Despite knowing that Wendy was fine, Stan still couldn’t help but give her a once-over.  “Hey, what did you do to yer hand sweetie?”  Stan caught the way she had one hand cupped around the other. Gently, he tugged on her fingers, bringing her hand towards him.  A small cut was bleeding near the base of her thumb.

“It’s nothin’” Wendy muttered, trying to pull her hand away.  “Just a little cut.”

Stan pulled the gauze out of his pocket, feeling grateful that he hadn’t put it away.  “Well, little or not, you don’t want to get blood everywhere, do ya?”  Stan said, his voice as soft and quiet as he can make it.  He was too relieved that Wendy was alright to really be mad at her. Stan gently wrapped the tiny cut, being much more careful than he had been with his own injury.

“Whaddid you do to your hand?”  Wendy asked as Stan finished bandaging her hand.

Stan pocketed the remaining gauze.  “Cut myself on the glass downstairs.  Ya really made a mess, ya know that kid?”

Wendy looked down at her hands.  “Oh. Sorry.”  Her small face twisted into an ashamed grimace.

Stan felt a twist of guilt. He hadn’t tried to upset her. Stan tried to backtrack. “Heh, it’s not yer fault.  I coulda’ been more careful.”  More words hung on the tip of Stan’s tongue, but he bit them back.  He really didn’t want to upset Wendy more than he already had.

The two of them sat on the floor in silence.  Stan decided that the fact that Wendy hadn’t jumped out of his lap and ran yet as a sign that he could try and say more.  “Hey, Wendy,” Stan started.  He rubbed the back of his neck “I know that this has all been really hard for you. Havin’ ta adjust ta all of this-” he waved an arm, gesturing at the Shack around them “and ta me and the twins. And, I know that ya must miss yer parents somethin’ awful.”  Wendy curled up into a ball in Stan’s lap, hugging her knees and hiding her face. But she hadn’t left yet, so Stan kept pushing his luck.  “I, um, I have someone that I miss a whole lot too.”  Wendy looked up at Stan with watery green eyes, and Stan’s throat tightened ‘Why did I say that?’ “But, y’see, the thing is, well-” Stan backtracked frantically, hoping Wendy didn’t try to ask him any questions.  “I’m not your Dad.  I know that. And I’m sorry if I made ya feel like I was trying ta replace him, or your Mom.  Cause, ya don’t, ya don’t replace family, ya know?”  Stan kept his eyes on the ceiling, looking anywhere but at Wendy.  “So, yeah, I’m just tellin’ ya that I’m sorry, kid.  For everything.”

Two small arms wrapped around Stan’s neck, and Wendy’s hot breath tickled Stan’s ear.  Stan hesitated for a moment before hugging her back. Quietly but growing in volume, Wendy started to sob into Stan’s neck.  He grimaced slightly at the slimy feel of her tears and more than likely snot rubbing into his skin and soaking his shirt and jacket collar, but Stan held the crying girl close to him.

Slowly, Wendy calmed down. Her tears stopped flowing, and her death grip on Stan’s neck slackened.  It wasn’t until Stan heard her softly snoring in his ear that he realized that she had cried herself to sleep.  Stan hauled himself to his feet as gently as he could.  He slowly lowered her onto her bed.  Wendy resisted a little, clinging to Stan like a burr in her sleep.

Stan softly peeled her off and tucked her in to her bed.  He smiled softly as she grabbed a stuffed animal in her sleep.  Stan silently slipped out of the room, turning the light off behind him.  He turned, and almost jumped through the roof when he saw Soos standing less than two feet behind him.

“Sweet Moses kid! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Stan clutched a hand to his chest. He quietly ushered Soos toward the stairs and away from Wendy’s room.  “What are ya doing up here?  Where are the twins?”

“They were gettin’ tired after I fed em’ so I changed their diapers and put the little doods to bed.” Soos gave Stan a buck-toothed grin. “They went down pretty fast, so I cleaned the kitchen up, and swept the museum!”

“Huh, ya did all that, did ya?”  Stan was mildly impressed.

“Yeah!  I’ve got a lot of younger cousins, and I gotta help take care of em’ when family comes to visit.”  Soos said, but then his smile suddenly faded “You’re not mad at me, are ya? Ya just told me to feed the twins, not put em’ to bed.”

“Mad?  I aint mad kid, I just got free babysitting.”  Stan smiled, patting Soos on the top of his head. “Hey, you didn’t go near that puddle in the gift shop, did ya?”

“No, I saw some-some broken glass in the water.  Abuelita told me to stay away from broken glass.”  A yawn punctuated the young boy’s sentence, prompting Stan to check his watch.

“Aw, shoot!  It’s late, I gotta get you home.”  Stan quickly bundled the boy into the backseat of his car and took off, driving erratically and speeding more than he normally did.

“Goodnight Mr. Pines!” Soos said as he got out of the car.

“Yeah, night Soos. Hey, I don’t care if it’s past yer bedtime, make sure you’re in ta work bright and early tomorrow!”

“Yes sir!”

Stan waited until Soos had gotten inside before he drove back home.  It didn’t take him too long to clean up the rest of the snow globe mess, and after poking his head into his room and checking on the twins in their crib, he slipped downstairs to the basement.

“Foo, foo, foo!” Mable and Mason chanted together from their high chairs.  Their noise was giving Stan a headache, so he cooked faster.  Wendy was still asleep, and Stan wasn’t about to go wake her up after last night.  He was making flapjacks for breakfast, Wendy’s favorite, and the little twins were excited for them too.

“All right ya little terrors, settle down.”  Stan turned from the stove to look back at the twins, and started a little when he saw Wendy in the kitchen doorway.  She was still wearing her clothes from the day before, and there were still slight traces of tear tracks left on her face.  Stan’s fez was perched on her head, slipping down over her ears.  She shuffled her feet a little, not really looking at Stan.  “Well, it’s about time you got up.”  Stan grumbled, turning back to the flapjacks to hide his small smile at seeing her up.

“Wenny!”  Mabel happily giggled, before returning to chanting along with Mason for food.  

Stan heard the sound of a chair being dragged along the floor, and turned to see Wendy climbing up next to him.  She pushed his fez back as she climbed; it kept slipping over her eyes.  “What do you think you’re doing?”  Stan asked, one eyebrow cocked.  Wendy pulled the fez off of her head, and held it up to Stan. With a small chuckle, he ducked low enough for Wendy to place it crookedly on his head, the tassel tickling his left ear. “Thanks kid.”

“I’msorryaboutthesnowglobes.”  The words tumbled out of Wendy’s mouth, so fast Stan almost couldn’t understand them.

“Well, no one got hurt. But that was a lot of merchandise ya broke missy.”  Stan poked Wendy lightly in the arm with his spatula.  “You’re gonna start helping me around the Shack to pay for all those.”

“Okay.”  Wendy said.  She sat on the counter next to the stove, kicking her legs back and forth and bumping her heels against the cupboard door underneath.

“You ah, want somethin?” Stan asked her.

“Mr. Pines?  Can I ask you somethin’?”  Wendy murmured

“Didn’t ya just?” Stan said, laughing at his own joke. Seeing the confused look on Wendy’s face, Stan said “Yeah kid, fire away.”

“Is it okay if I call you Uncle Stan?”  She whispered.

Stan fumbled with his spatula.  “W-what? You wanna call me your Uncle?”

Wendy nodded, looking away from Stan.

“Heh.” Stan couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face. “Yeah, sure, if you really wanna.” He tried to hide his joy under a layer of gruffness.  “You uh, wanna help me with these last few flapjacks?”

Wendy looked up at him, a small smile on her face.  “Yeah. Sounds fun Uncle Stan.”

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Building blocks of a family: Dipper and Mabel.

The first in a set of drabbles from the Stanmily au detailing Stan bonding with his kids shortly after adopting them.  This is a bit more...flowery or whatever than things I've done before.  I was trying to make it a bit of a dramatic piece, and I really didn’t want to write dialogue tonight.  I’m going to be doing these in chronological order, so Wendy is going to be coming next.  That one will have actual dialogue, and is going to be a bit more angsty than this.

Stan Pines had always believed that he would have kids one day.  He had always thought that, some day, he would settle down with a wife, raise a munchkin or two, maybe three, after he and Ford had struck it rich treasure hunting or course.  Stan knew that he was the ‘wild’ twin, and that most people weren’t expecting something so...domestic for him, but honestly, Stan thought it sounded nice. For all his talk of babes, there was always something appealing about finding ‘The One’, and just being happy together.

He had never expected that something like this would happen.  Stan had been ecstatic to hear that his nephew and his wife were expecting. Barely nineteen and still in college, Stan felt a surge of protective worry thinking about them, barely older than babies themselves, raising a child and trying to make it through college as well as everything life could throw at them?  As Stan drove to California, he pushed the thoughts down.  They’ll be fine.  They’ve got each other, and their parents to help ‘em out.  Everything is gonna be alright for those kids.

But of course, things are never that easy.  Instead of the joyful occasion Stan had expected, there was heartbreak in the hospital that night.  While two beautiful babies napped in the nursery, exhausted by their own birth, a young man, barely nineteen, wept.  His children were strong, but his wife was gone from this world.  His father sat stoic, trying to comfort his only child through a pain that was all too familiar to him, still sharp though faded with time.  That was how Stan found them.  And that was when Stan’s heart, which he thought was hardened into stone, started to crack.

His nephew didn’t know what to do.  He knew he couldn’t raise a child on his own in college, let alone two.  His mom was gone and his dad had been living in an old folks home since her death.  His wife had grown up in foster care; no parents were there for her.  And her stories from her childhood made it impossible for the nineteen year old father and widower to leave his children to the system.  He was stuck.

Until Stan opened his mouth.  In a whirl it seemed, he was back in Gravity Falls. Small toys littered the floor, a crib was set up in the corner of his room, and he was currently trying to soothe two fussy infants late into the night. Or, rather, one fussy infant, and one sleeping infant.  Stan had learned early on that if he picked up one baby, he had to pick up the other, or else both children would scream until they were reunited.  These last few months had given Stan an appreciation for his mother he never thought he would have had.

Stan was tired.  His back and arms were sore from bouncing the two babies for over two hours.  Drool was soaked into his undershirt and chest hair and shoulder hair.  His hearing aid was down low, but not low enough that he couldn’t hear Mason softly whimpering.  The soles of his feet were sore from tripping over wooden blocks in the dark on his way up from the basement.  And part of his soul ached, telling him he should be downstairs, working on the Portal, bringing his own twin home.

And yet, despite his protesting body, and the hole that had been aching inside of him for nigh on thirty years, he felt more content than he had in a long time. He held the two small kids, his kids, closer to him, Mason finally starting to calm down and snuggle closer into his chest, yawning as his eyes drifted close. Stan smiled softly, and, instead of setting the kids back in their crib, he lies down on his own bed, gently nesting the kids in pillows and blankets and curling himself around them.

It may not have been how he had imagined it, all those years ago.  But it was good.  And it was his.  And that was enough.

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

I’ve got my new au on the brain.  Enjoy some young Journal buddies!

@starryoak I made more!

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

A Stanmily au doodle.  Tiny Wendy wearing Stan’s fez. 

I have no explanation other than I wanted to draw a cutie today.

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Trying to come up with a young Candy design from my Stanmily au.  Not sure how I feel about it.

@starryoak I’m tagging you again.

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Here’s a sneak peek of a Stanmily au thing I’m working on.  Just gotta finish lining two people, and the it’s onto the colors!

@starryoak, look!  More small children!

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

More Stanmily au doodles.

A brief summary of Ford and Wendy’s relationship.  She tries to get under his skin as much as possible.

Tagging @starryoak again since you seem to be liking this as much as me!

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

A.C. Pines - Prologue: A World of Responsibility

I’m taking a break from the angst of Precipice by finally writing about my oc!  Heh, better late than never, I guess.

Enjoy!

Stan flipped through the pages of Fords Journal, grumbling to himself.  He skimmed through the codes; after almost thirteen years he could read everything written like it was normal English.  He rubbed his eyes under his glasses.  He was just plain tired.  Stan leaned forward, thumping his head on the old physics textbook he had open.

He felt his eyes start to drift close.  Stan had grown used to using the desk as a bed.  It really wasn’t that bad...

A staticky crackle and a shrill whine caused Stan to jerk up and out of his doze.  The walky-talky on the desk gave another crackle before a whining cry started coming out of it.  Stan glanced at the alarm clock on the desk.  12:42.  Ughh...

Stan trudged up the stairs and to his bedroom.  He could hear the crying through the door, louder now.  Even though the rooms occupant was already awake, Stan was as quiet as possible opening the door.  He made his way over to the crib by the foot of his bed in the dark.

“Hey little lady.”  Stan scooped the crying infant up, holding her close to his chest.  “You’re up past your bedtime, ya know that?”  He started bouncing gently, rocking back and forth, patting the little girl softly on the back.  “Heh.  But it’s past my bedtime too, isn’t it?”

The six-and-a-half month old wailed in Stan’s ear.  “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.  Those teeth are a bi-beast comin’ in, aren’t they? Where’d yer teething ring go?”  Stan shifted the baby into one arm, and patted around in the crib.  Stan’s hand bumped against the walky-talky he had jury-rigged into a baby monitor, and he clicked it off.  He blindly searched some more, but all her could find was the baby blanket.

“Sorry small fry, I can’t find it.  But maybe...”  Stan headed over to his nightstand and rummaged around for a moment.  His hand closed around a cold metal object.  “Here ya go.  How does this work?”  Stan brought the knuckle duster up to the baby.  It was yanked out of his hand, and the crying drifted down into upset whimpering. “There!  Not exactly orthodox, but hey, whatever works, right kiddo?”

The baby girl didn’t answer, not that Stan was expecting her to.  She gnawed on his knuckle duster intently, and Stan chuckled a little.  “Hey, what did that thing ever do to you, huh?  Yer a little fighter, just like yer old man.”  Stan still couldn’t believe it.  Forty-two and the father of a six-month old.  Single father, but still, a father none the less.  And his daughter was the most perfect little girl he had ever seen.

Stan looked down to see his little girl yawning, and saw her grip on the knuckle duster slacken.  Stan gently pulled it away, setting it on the nightstand.  He held his finger out to the sleepy baby, and she wrapped her tiny hand around it.  A tiny, beautiful hand with six perfect fingers.

Tears pricked the corners of Stan’s eyes.  Memories of another six-fingered someone came to his mind, not all of them good ones.  “I hope the world treats you better than it treated him.” He whispered to the dozing baby in his arms.  Stan couldn’t bear to put her down just yet, and he wasn’t going to get anything done on that portal tonight.  He sat on his own bed and gently leaned back.  Stan rolled onto his side gently setting his baby girl down on the mattress next to him.

Stan smiled at his sleeping daughter, and whispered to her softly before drifting off to sleep him self “‘Night Alex.”

AN:  Yeah, just a little thing.  If you weren’t able to tell from my Stanmily au, I adore the idea of Stan being A Dad, which is really where Alex came from.

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Coloring and shading this thing with my tablet broken was a PAIN, but I finally got it done!  

More Stanmily au chaos for the soul!  (I modified a Draw the Squad thing to get this pose)

Short explanation: the kids grab Ford for a family movie night a couple of days after his return.

Long explanation: Under the cut!

So this happens one or two days after Ford gets back.  

Ford and Stan still have that whole “I want my house back and my name back” conversation, until Stan tells Ford that all of those kids live in the Shack, and that Stan isn’t just babysitting for money (like Ford originally believes).  So they are left at an impasse. Ford wants his life back, but he can’t kick all of those kids out, and he certainly can’t take care of them without Stan and the revenue from the Mystery Shack.  Stan knows the only reason he isn’t gonna get kicked out again is because of the family he’s made, not because Ford wants him around, so he still tells Ford to stay away from the kids, and drops the “only family I have left” line.

Wendy overhears this whole thing.  She’s mad and scared, and goes from being unsure about Ford to flat out hating his guts.  Wendy doesn’t tell anyone what she heard (she doesn’t wanna scare any of her younger siblings, or Soos), but she goes out of her way to be the biggest brat she can be to Ford.  One of her favorite ways to bug him is to steal his trench coat, which is why she’s wearing it. 

Candy still doesn’t fully believe that Ford is a normal human, and not so shape-stealing alien that's come to replace Stan (or something like that), so she is ready and waiting with a homemade Taser, just in case.

Mabel and Dipper are just caught in Wendy’s plot to make Ford as miserable and uncomfortable as possible.  Mabels being a melodramatic goof about it, and Dipper is probably whining about Wendy crushing him (he never gets a crush on her in this au since they’re adoptive siblings).

Paz (she just goes by Paz permanently since no one could say ‘Pacifica’ when they were younger and Stan was all like “time is money and they’re all wasting time trying to say a five dollar rich person name when something shorter will work so your name is now Paz”) won the coin toss or poker game that she and Dipper played to decide who got to read Journal 1 first, so she is content to sit in her little corner and read while her family is going nuts.

Grenda is fine with Ford being around since she knows she can take him down if need arises, so she’s perched on the top of the couch like normal and using Ford as and arm rest.

Soos is Soos, so he’s just rolling with everything.  He usually sits on the couch, but since Ford is their, Soos is fine with the floor.  He and Grenda are the only ones who are actually watching the movie.

Ford is questioning all of his life choices and wondering which one made him go  from ‘trying to stop an interdimensional dream demon bent on the destruction of the world‘ to ‘watching a cartoon about anthropomorphic anatomically incorrect farmyard animals whilst being used by several children as a piece of furniture.’

Stan is getting snacks.  He has his armchair all to himself until it gets late and at least two children climb into his lap to cuddle.  That’s his favorite part of movie night but he will never admit it

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Hi, I love your stanmily au. Stan has an army of adorable kids; he totally uses that to his advantage. He may have them take part in the Mystery Shack. How much does he & the kids get away with? How are the kids like on outings and travelling? Everyone has different tastes in music, some talk the entire drive, and everyone has their own thing they like to do alone & stuff they like to do with others. Actually what would Stan do having to drive around several kids before Soos drives?

(EEEEEEEEE questions about my au!)

Stan definitely uses the kids in the Shack.  Crowds love cute babies.  Stan started out by having Dipper and Mabel in baby carriers, one on back and one on front.  His back hated him for it.  After he adopted Wendy, he set up an attraction called “Worlds Cutest Kids!”, which was just the kids barricaded in a corner of the museum by baby gates duck taped together, playing with their toys.  After Wendy had...adjusted to life at the Shack (it’s a long story) she helps with an attraction called “The Anonymous Box of Mystery”, and when the younger kids get older they all help out, making attractions, manning the gift shop, all that stuff.

The Pines family get away with a lot.  With all of their combined abilities, they can worm their way out of anything.  Heck, having the kids help plan the toxic waste heist (not that they knew what Stan was stealing) kept the government agents from catching and arresting Stan the day the Portal opened.

The denizens of Gravity Falls have learned to fear the sight of Stan’s aptly named El Diablo.  They have three rules when going out into town: 1) Stay within shouting distance, 2) Don’t get caught doing anything illegal, and 3) If someone sounds the alarm, everyone books it to the car.  The kids will split up into different configurations depending on what everyone is doing, and each configuration is its own kind of chaos for everyone around them.

Traveling is a different story.  Soos doesn’t get his truck for awhile, so everyone rides in the El Diablo.  Soos and Wendy both sit in the shotgun seat, and the younger kids all share the backseat since they’re all small enough to fit.  Stan, despite trying to be gruff and detached, and despite his needing to work on the Portal, is the biggest doting Dad ever to his family.  He loves to take the kids on weekend camping trips and summer road trips in an RV that Stan purchases (sort of) for family use since there is no way that he was gonna haul those kids around in the Stanlymobile on any drive longer than 20 minutes.

The music thing is actually an easy fix.  They have a CD. Any time someone finds a song they like, they put it on the CD, and they make sure that its shuffled into a section with different music.  So they could be listening to Bohemia Rhapsody, and then the theme song for Dreamboy High would play next, and then some classical piece from Tchaikovsky will play, and then some Journey will play, and so on and so forth.  This CD, if played from start to end, will last a full three days, and keeps growing. 

Mabel is definitely the talker.  The first road trip they went on, when the little kids were about five, Mabel chattered for a full seven hours, then promptly passed out.  Nearly gave Stan a heart attack.  Grenda will sing along to whatever is playing on the radio, even when it’s a song she doesn’t know.  Candy will tune out everything and read, usually something informative about where they’re going, and sometimes a fictional novel.  Dipper and Paz are video game buddies, playing their Gameboys together for hours with Wendy occasionally joining in.  Or they’ll watch some of their Ghost Harassers DVDs, or they’ll read the Journals together after they find them.  Wendy will usually put her headphones on and just crash in the shotgun seat and chill, but sometimes she’ll just talk to Stan.  She’s still got emotional baggage left over from losing her parents at the age of five, and Stan has his own emotional issues, so he gets it, lets her talk.  Soos sleeps.

And as for the kids all doing stuff together in groups, there are certain things that they split up to do.  Dipper and Candy are the only ones who love D,D,& D, but they will occasionally be able to rope one or two of their siblings into playing.  When they can’t decide on a movie everyone will like, Mabel, Candy, and Grenda will watch Dreamboy High on one TV while Dipper and Paz and Wendy will watch so cheesy horror B-flick on the second TV that Stan acquired for them.  Dipper and Paz are Journal buddies.  Soos and Dipper will do guy stuff and the girls will do girl stuff.  Everyone has little things they like to do with Stan, and everyone knows how to box, but Grenda and Wendy are the only ones who do it competitively.  Oh, and the kids call themselves the Mystery Crew, and have been going on Monster Hunts (or Cookie Jar Raids) since Paz could talk Soos into dropping the baby gate.

And that’s it!  I hope that answered all of your questions, and If you have anymore please feel free to send more questions!

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Hi there! I just wanted to say that your stanmily AU gives me life (it's pretty much a perfect world scenario). So I have 2 questions. 1: when does waddles come into the picture? 2: do you accept fanart/fanfiction of this au?

Oh my gosh, thank you!  I’m glad that you like it so much!

Hmmm...I’m gonna say that the fair happens a couple of weeks before Ford gets home, right after Dipper and Wendy find Journal 3 in the woods.  In this au Ford gets home at the very beginning of summer, so Stan was using the fair as sort of an ‘end of the school year/start of tourist season’ overpriced money-grabbing scheme.  Blendin Blandin still shows up, and Dipper and Mabel still have time travel shenanigans, but instead of the conflict being Dipper trying to keep Robbie from dating Wendy vs Mabel not being able to get Waddles, (since Dipper never developes a crush on Wendy bc she’s his big sister) Dipper uses the time machine to fix his mistake of losing Journal #2, which was Paz’s Journal, and letting it fall into the hands of Gideon, who then tears several pages out, one of which was the page on the amulet.  But Dipper can’t catch Gideon alone, no matter how hard he tries, but when he gets Mabel’s help, Waddles is won by Old Man McGucket, who has every intention of eating Waddles.  So all that happens similar to cannon, they fight, they make up, Dipper has to tell Paz what happened, etc.

And yes yes yes!  I gladly accept fanfic and fanart!  Please, if you wanna do something with this au, go right ahead!

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Hey there! In honour of fanfic writer's appreciation day, I wanted to send this message to (once again) say your gravity Falls stuff is top notch! (And I'm trying to write a little soemthing for your stanmily au). Have a great day/night!!!

Oh my gosh!  Thank you so much!  That means a lot to me!  

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Building Blocks of a Family: Pacifica

Finally got more Stanmily au done!  Hope you all enjoy!

“Alright, open up sweetheart.”  Stan gently waved the spoonful of potatoes in front of the three-year-old girl in the high chair in front of him, trying to coax her into taking another bite.  The little blonde, Pacifica Northwest, squirmed and waved a pudgy fist in the air, nearly knocking the spoon out of his hand. “C’mon squirt, I know it’s not the, I dunno, baby caviar or whatever that yer used to eating at home, but ya gotta eat something.”  Pacifica, or Paz as Stan and the kids usually call her, had been staying in the Mystery Shack for three days while her parents were off at a party somewhere in Europe.

It wasn’t difficult for Stan to take care of another kid.  Mabel and Mason liked sharing a crib, so Stan had just put Paz in Mabel’s and the twins shared Mason’s.  There was plenty of food in the house; honestly it was harder for Stan to get her to eat than anything.

A glob of potatoes hit the side of Stan’s face with a splat.  The sound of giggles filled the dining room as he looked over at the other kids.  Wendy was supposed to be helping Mason eat, but to Stan it looked more like she piled all of her carrots onto his plate and then just started sculpting her potatoes into a something that vaguely resembled…a mountain maybe? Except for the bit she had thrown at him at least.  And Soos and Mabel both had potatoes smeared all over their faces.

Three knocks pounded against the front door.  “I got it!” Wendy leapt up and ran to the door, only for Stan to grab the back of her feety pajamas and lift her off of the ground.

“Oh no ya don’t.  I’ll get it.”  He set her down in her chair.  “You stay here.”  Wendy stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry up at Stan, who stuck his tongue out right back at her.  The girl giggled before turning back to her food sculpture.  Stan hid a grin of his own behind a fist before schooling his face into a scowl to see who was coming by this late at night.

The knocks sounded again, three crisp, loud sounds echoing loudly through the Shack.  Stan grabbed the kitchen baseball bat on his way to the door.  “I’m comin’ I’m comin’!  Pipe down, would ya?”  The lock stuck a little before clicking open.  Some guy in a suit was standing on the porch, waving a probably-silk handkerchief at the moths flitting around him.  Stan’s first thought was ‘tax collector’, but this guy didn’t have the right feel to him. “Whaddaya want?” Stan slung the bat over one shoulder.

The man gaped for a moment before clearing his throat and straightening, adjusting his suit.  “Good evening, sir.”  His voice was faintly accented, something European that Stan couldn’t quite pin down.  “Is this the residence of one Stanford Filbrick Pines?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

The man was taken aback for a moment.  “Are you not Stan Pines?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”  Then he shut the door.  He had taken two steps when the man started knocking again.  Stan pulled the door back open.  The man opened his mouth to speak, but Stan started talking first. “Look, I’ve got five kids ta take care of, and it’s bed time right now, so if you don’t mind,” Stan grabbed a small cord made from a jump-rope behind the door and gave it a tug.  There was a splash as the booby-trap Soos had come up with dumped a bucket of Gatorade on the mans head, soaking him, “buzz off buddy.”  Stan shut the door, making the glass rattle.  He made it halfway through the gift shop before Soos poked his head through the doorway.

“Who was that Stan?” He didn’t seem to notice or care that he had a glob of mashed potato in his hair.

Another set of knocks had Stan grinding his teeth together.  He dropped the bat with a clatter and grabbed the mace off of the wall. “Someone who’s asking ta be maimed. Can ya start gettin’ the kiddos cleaned up while I deal with this?”

“Aye aye, Stan!”

Stan pulled the door open. The man was spluttering and stained bright orange.  “Sir, I m-must insist that you-GOOD HEAVENS!”  He jumped six feet into the air when he saw the mace.

“What.  Do you.  Want. Pal?”  Stan growled.  “And make it snappy.  I got a trio a’ toddlers who gotta sleep soon, a middle-schooler with a big math test tomorrow, and a preschooler who is veritable hell ta get up in the morning.”

“Yes, yes, ah, the children are actually what I came by tonight, Mr. Pines.”

Stan’s knuckles whitened on the handle of the mace.  “You from Child Services or somethin’?  I swear, if Linda from the PTA called ya, she’s just pissed that Soos’ project won the science fair instead of her little monsters dumb volcano.  Whaddid she say?  That I’m an ‘insufficient caretaker’ or somethin’?”

“Ah, no, no, nothing like that sir.”  The man held up his hands.  “I am a representative of Octavia Northwest.  She has come to claim guardianship of her granddaughter.”

“Guardianship?  What happened ta her parents?”

“Earlier this evening, there was a terrible tragedy.  The Northwest’s jet went down over the Alps, and there were no survivors.”

Stan’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.  Jeez.  That’s awful.”  He didn’t care much for the older generation of Northwest, but Paz was a sweet kid. She didn’t deserve something like…this.

“Yes.  We have come to collect her and her things.”  The (probably) butler attempted to dab the Gatorade off of his face with a soaked handkerchief.

“We?”  Stan looked behind the butler and could see the shape of a limo in the dark.  A light was on inside, and he could make out the outline of a person.

“Yes.  Madame Octavia is waiting for me to bring her granddaughter out to her.”

Stan scowled.  “Can’t she come out here and get her herself?”

The butler stammered. “Erm, Madame Octavia is quite the busy woman, and she-”

“Busy wo- she’s sitting in a car, in the dark!  She ain’t busy at all!”  Stan growled, waving the mace in the air.  “She can walk the twenty feet to the porch herself.  If she even cares about the kid.”

The butler took a step back. “Sir, I assure you, Madame Octavia cares about her granddaughter very much.”

“Her name is Pacifica buddy,” Stan jabbed a finger at the butler, “and I’m not about ta hand a three-year-old over to an old rich hag who can’t be bothered to get out’a her fancy car, and her balding lackey that won’t even call a child by her name.”  He grabbed the door handle and started to push it closed.  “So you can go out an’ tell Her Excellency or whatever the heck I’m supposed to call her, that she can have Pacifica when she’s ready ta come take care’a her herself.”

“Uh-” The butler took another step back.  “Sir, I believe that that is, technically, a kidnapping.”

Stan cocked an eyebrow, “Yep.”

“Which is, uh, very, very…illegal?”

“What’s your point?”

“Uh…”

“Look, if you’ve got nothin’ else ta say,” Stan brandished the mace “get off of my property.”

The butler gave a squeal like a stuck pig before turning, tripping down the stairs and hightailing it to the limo.  Stan locked the door, flicked off the porch light, and put the mace back on the wall before heading back into the kitchen.  The place was clean as a whistle, except for Stan’s plate of food sitting in the open microwave.  

Stan gave a small smile, his anger at Paz’s grandmother subsiding a bit, before turning and heading up the stairs.  He could hear the sound of the kids chattering in Soos’ room.  He pushed the door open.  “Hey, what’re you kids up to?”  Wendy was sitting on the floor, coloring in a coloring book.  Mason and Paz were both playing with blocks, and Soos was just finishing combing out Mabel’s hair.

“Grunk Stan!”  Mabel gave a happy shriek and toddled over to Stan, grabbing onto his knee when she got close enough.

“Hey Pumpkin!”  Stan scooped the little girl up, blowing a raspberry on her cheek and making her giggle.  “Yer happy ta see me, aren’t ya?”

“Hey Stan!”  Soos hopped up.  “Everyone is cleaned up and ready for bed.”

“Nice job kid.”  Stan ruffled his hair.  “I’ll get the little three in bed, you think you can get Wendy down?”

“Never!”  Wendy hopped up and dashed out of the room, squealing with laughter as Soos took off after her.  

“Hey, keep it down would ya? It’s bedtime, not rampage time!”  Stan hissed as he picked up the three toddlers, balancing them easily in his arms.  Mason was practically asleep already, even with Mabel chattering nonstop in his ear, but Stan knew that she would be asleep as soon as he put her down.  And he was right.  The twins curled up next to each other in their crib, so close they were practically sleeping on top of each other.  Paz however, was another matter entirely.

She was a bit fussier than the twins.  It had taken awhile for Stan to get her to calm down and go to sleep the past few nights, even when the little tyke was exhausted.  Tonight was no exception; Paz fussed and squirmed in his arms, refusing to fall asleep.  Stan chewed his lip as it hit him that he was holding an orphan on the night her parents died for the second time in his life.  “Dang it kid, I don’t like yer parents at all, but I’m sorry that their gone for yer sake.”  He murmured to the infant.  “And now yer gonna get stuck livin’ with that old hag.  If she even takes the time ta look at ya.”

Paz whined, pulling on his undershirt.  “Heh, sorry kid.  Don’t mean ta be a downer.  But no one should grow up raised by someone who doesn’t care about them.  And ya may have been born a spoiled brat, but yer not bad, ya know.  Yer actually pretty sweet right now.  Try not ta grow outta that, okay?”  She blinked up at him, slowly and sleepily.  “I’ll hold ya to that squirt.  Are ya ready to go ta bed now?”  Stan gently lowered her down into the crib. She moaned a little, but settled down after Stan tucked the stuffed toy llama Mabel gave her under her arm.  “Sleep tight, princess.”

The sound of three familiar knocks on the door during breakfast almost made Stan shatter his glass of orange juice in his hand.  “You have got to be kidding me!”  He stood up, almost knocking his chair over.

“What’s wrong Uncle Stan?” Wendy said around a mouthful of toast.

“I have a nuisance to take care of.  I’ll be right back kids.”  This time, Stan grabbed the battle axe off of the wall instead of the mace.  He threw the door open with a bang.  “Is that old bat gonna come get Pacifica herself, or not?”

The butler held a stack of papers and a pen in front of him like a shield.  “N-no, um, hello again sir.  Madame Octavia told me to inform you that, erm, ‘if you want to keep the child so badly, then go ahead’.  If you sign these forms, you will become Pacifica’s new legal guardian.  Madame Octavia also included a compensation check for you to use to purchase necessities for her should you choose to keep the child.”  He offered the papers to Stan at arms length.

“So she’s dumpin’ her granddaughter on me, covering it up, and bribing me to keep my mouth shut about it.” Stan cocked an eyebrow at the trembling man.  Then he gave a small shrug and let the axe drop to the ground.  The butler jumped.  Stan snatched the papers out of the mans hands and used the door as a writing surface. “Good.”

“Good?”  The butler sounded bewildered.  “You mean you want to keep the child?”

“Yep.”  Stan reached over and stuck the pen into the butlers front pocket.  “Is there anything else you or the old lady wants from me?”

“Uh, no-”

Stan shut the door and went into his office so he could lock these new documents in his safe, along with the deed to the Shack, and the other adoption certificates he had acquired in the past few years.

“Stan!  We gotta go soon or we’re gonna be late for school!” Soos cried out from the kitchen.

“Yeah!  No school, no school, no school!”  Wendy started to chant.

“Yes school, young lady.”  Stan said.  “But, um, before we head out, I’ve got an announcement to make.”  Wendy and Soos stopped putting their jackets and backpacks on to look at him.  Even the babies gave him their attention.  “Paz is gonna be living with us now.  Permanently.”

“Okay!”  Wendy said, “Can we skip school to celebrate?”  She gave a cute little smile and batted her eyes.

“Sorry squirt, not today.” Stan ruffled her pigtails.  Wendy pouted and stuck her tongue out.  “But maybe on Saturday we’ll do somethin’, how’s that sound?”

“Fine.  I guess.”

“Good, now, out to the car Red.” Stan turned back to the babies and squawked when he saw Pacifica wearing her little bowl of cream of wheat on her head like a hat.  “Oh, c’mon.  Soos, can you get the twins out to their car seats while I get Paz here cleaned up?”

“You got it dood!”

Stan picked up Paz and held her out at arms length to keep food off of his suit.  “Eesh kid, you sure had fun with yer breakfast, huh?” The toddler gurgled happily and clapped as Stan carried her into the bathroom.  “Well, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Paz squirmed and whined as Stan wiped off her face and hands and hair.  “Hey, I don’t enjoy this either, kid.  I dunno how ya would get cleaned up in fancy town, but yer gonna be living here now, so get used to this.”  She gave him a reproachful look.  “Don’t look at me like that.”  Stan poked the little girls nose, and she gave a shocked little giggle.  “Heh.  Welcome to the family, princess.”