smiley-mcdoggington

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PSA: AO3 HAS BEEN INFECTED WITH AI BOT COMMENTS.

Have you seen one of these dipshits? If you post regularly on ao3, chances are YES, but more likely you didn't notice nor suspect it was a bot. Sometimes they start off nice, or even praise you before getting nasty out of nowhere, like so:

But much like Grok, their newest obsession is nazism.

I don't know where they come from, or what purpose this could possibly serve other than suicidebaiting random people in the internet, I guess; but apparently they've started parroting names from real users to send these comments and shifting their general length to go by undetected. Maybe those are scrappers trying to train 'reviewbots' to be sold as part of some scam service promising to give feedback for newbie writers, who the fuck knows.

Here are more examples of the tone and backhanded compliments you can find in these:

If you regularly post on AO3 or interact with writers in it, please pass this along so they don't feel insane receiving bombs in their inbox. This is ridiculous.

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Had a dream that Alex Hirsch reposted some innocuous fanart and antis started freaking out because the artist of the fanart shipped stancest and it became a huge debate over whether Alex reposted it by accident until Alex just tweeted a picture he drew of Stan and Ford getting married on the Stan O War with Soos officiating over video call and everyone got even more pissed because Ford was wearing the dress implying he's the bottom

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He’s a freak. Stanley surprise under cut.

That’s not his pentis, chat.

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Hey girl this is main tag why are you looking so wistfully into your brothers eyes you can't do that they're gonna get you

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AU idea so good I have to send the prompt to someone else's blog like a mother leaving her infant in a basket on someone else's doorstep because I couldn't give them the life they deserve...

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This is the worst timeline. (x)

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Trying to argue I don't ship two unrelated characters because they're too much like siblings to me while also shipping canon twins is just a dichotomy I refuse to explain

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So there's gossip about some version of kinktober over on twitter adding a bunch of nonsensical rules this year, and I am fascinated. Studying this like a bug.

Like, what the hell.

(context link)

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Trying to go light on the adipophilia writing soostan the same way people have to not draw feet Too Well lest someone know too much

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HEY YOU GUYS WANTED MORE REVERSE AU RIGHT WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO TOO BAD CW SOOSTAN CW SEQUEL TO THIS

Stanley's face was mottled with bruises, he still couldn't open his right eye well enough to see from, he hadn't washed his hair in weeks, and all his money was safely hidden inside the passanger's seat (Ford's seat). It was Thanksgiving and all Stan had was a box of stuffing mix.

He knocked on the door, offering in front of him, bag over his shoulder.

Soos opened the door, bigger than Stan remembered, he fought off the urge to shrink. "Hey, Mr. R." Stan mumbled. "I, uh." He offered the box, just now wondering if Soos would be able to tell he fished it out of a dumpster.

Soos surged forward and wrapped his arms around him. "Lee! I missed you, kiddo!" He said with that huge smile that still twisted Stan in knots. He held him by the shoulders and looked him up and down. "You're taller! That's great, dude, you can stock the top shelves now!" Was all he said about Stan's appearance, and Stan's shoulders relaxed under Soos' hands.

"So, I'm re-hired?"

"Course', I didn't touch your room, either. Now my old man bones are freezing out here, dude, come inside." He said, opening the door wide for Stan.

Stan shuffled inside, hand staying on his duffel bag. "I'm just here for the winter, though." He said once the door was shut and it would be harder to kick him out. "I'll be gone by passover."

Soos nodded. "Okay, Lee, but come back when you need to, cool?"

"... Cool. Has your speech gotten worse?"

"Julia's been bringing her friends over more, I have to keep up with trends or they might think I'm irrelevant." He said like it was the worst thing you could be. "Go up and unpack, Julia'll wanna show you her peeling skills but she needs some prep time. I'll be in the kitchen."

Stan nodded, handed Soos the stuffing and marched himself upstairs before he could get a good look at it. Soos called something to his granddaughter in Spanish and Stan could only really make out her name and "home".

Soos didn't lie, the room was the same as when Stan left, still had those goofy star wars bedsheets Soos got him his first day there, with a crochet blanket on top that didn't match at all.

He put down his duffel bag and hesitantly went to the mirror.

He looked terrible, worse than he could see in his rear-view mirror. His legs were getting fat, his attempt at a moustache was too short to cover where he'd split his lip half a year ago so it just looked like a bald spot, and the mismatched patches on his sweater didn't look so charming anymore.

He needed a shower.

He put down his duffel bag and found the towel closet near the top of the stairs. Muttering echoed up them.

Soos was saying something, quiet, urgent, and Julia was asking questions back, all in Spanish. Part of Stan wondered if Soos was asking his granddaughter to not say anything when she saw him. Julia wasn't a mean gal, but she was only thirteen. Who knows how thirteen-year-old him would have reacted to a bum like him sitting at his Pa's table.

He trudged to where he knew the bathroom was and in minutes he was in heaven, just stood under the spray and felt the heat seep into his bones. He pressed his forehead against the clammy shower wall and wondered if someone could sleep standing up.

"Lee?"

Stan jumped, slipped, and barely caught himself on the shower walls. "What the hell?!"

Soos chuckled. "Sorry, dude."

"You ever heard of knocking?"

"I did, thought you mighta fell in or something." Soos joked from the other side of the shower curtain. "Just wanted to get you a new razor - I got a spare."

Stan sighed, turned the water off, and snatched the towel to wrap around himself before he pulled back the curtain. "I don't gotta shave - I'm trying to grow in my 'stache here."

Soos chuckled, not moving from where he stood between Stan and the door. "You need a shave, dude. I can do it for you if you don't know how."

"I know how!" Stan insisted, snatching the razor from Soos. "I just, uh." He looked at the sharp edge. Pa had shown them once, but Ford always did it for the both of them because it was a way to bully Ford into showering at least as often as him. But thinking about Ford made him nauseous.

Soos eased himself to sit on the edge of the tub with an old man groan, before holding his hand out. "Come on, this way you can go eat faster."

Stan hesitated, before giving the razor back. "Just don't cut me up, I need my face intact for sales." He said, ignoring the irony.

"I'd never hurt you, Lee." He said, before patting his thigh in a very clear gesture. Stan didn't move, looking between him and the leg. "I still have a crick in my neck from looking over pots all day." He explained.

Stan very tentatively sat on his knee, very aware of the distance between the edge of his towel and Soos' leg.

Then his boss cupped his face to turn him toward himself, and grabbed some can on the shower rack without looking. "Sales? Maybe I should make you the gift shop manager." He said, spraying on cold, chemical shaving cream.

Soos' hands were unnaturally warm, though. He must have been stirring something hot a minute ago, his fingers still smelled like peppers and garlic and cheap dish soap. Stan couldn't remember the last time he'd had any of the three. Warm palms rubbed into his face in tight circles, dry thumbs stroking the edges of his cheekbones, leaving a weird soft residue all over. One hand stayed, the other went down to hold his chin, tilting his head up and spreading more cream over his chin and under his nose. That hand moved down to his thigh, and Stan jumped, eyes shooting open, nearly falling off Soos' lap, brain sputtering back into working order.

"Sorry dude, got stuff on my hands." He said, showing Stan his hands that were still covered in shaving cream. "You wanna pass me a different towel?"

Stan was an idiot, he looked down at the white handprint on the towel that was just coincidentally covering his flank and that no one would have jumped at but him. "S'fine, don't bother dirtying another one." He mumbled, and Soos shrugged. He wiped off his hand quick and casually like a normal guy that didn't think about stuff like that and then grabbed the razor off the edge of the tub. Stan subtly pulled the towel just a little further down his leg.

The first drag of the blade down his cheek felt... Nice. It didn't burn or anything, and one of Soos' hands stayed on his cheek the whole time, carefully nudging his head the right way even if it was probably gross with his hand all covered in shaving cream. He started humming something Stan couldn't recognize, wiping the razor off on his thigh, warm knuckle slightly grazing his hip just over his towel and then going back. He went slower than Stan expected, careful, it made Stan feel a little less embarrassed at barely knowing how to do it himself. When his moustache was cut away he didn't mourn it, only really noticing when Soos had to move the hand on his cheek to just a finger under his chin guiding him.

Then there was a harsh clink of the razor getting set back on the edge of the tub, and Soos wiped his other hand on Stan's other flank. Stan opened his eyes again and Soos was looking all over his face.

Two warm, relatively dry hands that still smelled more like garlic and pepper than chemical spray foam cupped his smooth cheeks. "Ahí estás." Soos murmured with a warm smile and those deep-set crows feet that knocked the wind out of Stan.

Stan had seen himself, a shower and a shave weren't gonna fix that mess, but Soos still looked weird, happy, relieved. He couldn't remember the last time someone looked happy to see him, not even before he got thrown out, it was making him dizzy.

"Now, Soos' World Famous Everything Empanadas are getting cold, which is sad, because you promised you'd manage to eat a whole one this year so I made extra." Soos said very seriously, and Stan chortled.

"Those things barely count as empanadas anymore."

"There are no rules in love and empanadas. Go get dressed, I've eaten Everything Empanadas without a shirt on before - bad idea."

Stan snorted. "Okay, Mr. R." He got off Soos' lap and adjusted his towel, going back to his room at the sound of Soos' old man standing up groan. The hallway smelled like spices and his room was just how he left it.

It was nice, being back.

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/67309831/chapters/173879350

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read this, right now

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Ugh what if soostan were both arrested for different things at different times but they met eachother as bunk mates n they had to play into the relationship everyone assumed they had because people kept bullying Soos and Stan couldn't always be there n then they end up accidentally falling for eachother but Stan won't admit it because he doesn't actually wanna be the creepy older guy that rapes n coerces his cell mate and Soos keeps hitting on him but Stan refuses to understand what he's doing and eventually they kiss and Stan finally takes the parole he's been ignoring for years when Soos gets out because he finally has somewhere to go and and and-- *gets euthanized*

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I know it's a pretty common headcanon that Stan and Soos beta read eachother's fanfics but i love that that implies they watch shows together (possibly ones that Soos pirates for them, I think they would both like those dramatic shonen animes that are 50% fighting 50% crying)

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Heyyyy I'm only 23 hours 29 minutes late for soostan final day!!!! Sorryyyyy!!!! It will happen again :(. Anyways uhhh CW smut

The drive was quiet, Soos watched trees roll by, all turned black by the orange sky, and sank deeper into the passanger's seat. Stan was at the wheel, humming something Soos didn't recognize because the radio was shot again and neither of them could fix it out in Navada.

Soos' fingers were absent-mindedly petting the bright orange fur of the stuffed beaver Stan had gotten him when the carnie was distracted. The atmosphere was trying to make him drift off, but he didn't wanna leave Stan alone.

"Are all your business trips that cool?" Soos asked, and Stan gave him a glance.

"Usually I win a little more at blackjack." Stan hummed. "But yeah, usually. Why, offering to be my hired muscle on the next one, too?"

Soos snorted. "Yeah, I'll get sunglasses and an earpiece and say codes to make it look cooler."

Stan chuckled. "Everyone at the table'll be pissing themselves, you don't bluff a man with a bodyguard - my personas are moving up in the world."

Soos smiled. "Hell yeah, so when's our next business trip?"

"Ah, not for a few months, gotta give the rubes time to grow their fleece back. Plus, my nephew's starting to get a bit pushy with visits, he might just throw my grand nieces on a bus one of these days." He said, and Soos sighed. He punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't you start moping, brat, the Mystery Shack can't just take every week off, and neither can you. I need you bright and early to help me get the gnomes out."

"Yes, sir!" He saluted, and Stan shoved his cap off th ruffle his hair without looking. Soos leaned into it. "Hey! Um. Maybe you should stay the night at my house then. You know, since the gnomes might be in your room and stuff..."

Stan let the arm fall around his shoulder. "We've been walking on eachother's ankles for a week, kid, you've gotta get sick of me sometime."

"No way, Mr. Pines! I probably wouldn't even if you were, like, keeping some huge world-ending secret from me. Or if you had a lame plot twist like an evil twin."

"Ha!" Stan laughed loud enough to startle Soos a little. "And you think I wouldn't be the evil twin?"

"Nah, you're the best. Plus, you don't even have an evil moustache."

"Shoulda' seen me in the 70s, Kitten, I had the filthiest porno 'stache you've ever seen."

"Really?! Could you grow it back?"

"Not if you paid me, I left my moustache back in Hollywood and I'm never goin' back."

Soos looked mystified. "What did you do in Holleywood?"

Stan snorted. "More like who-- ah, I mean, what didn't I do? You know I've got a bit of a history." He saved, rubbing his eyes a little and taking his hand off Soos' shoulder to do it before putting his hands back on two and ten.

Soos turned to face him as much as he could. "Could you tell me about it?" He asked.

"What're you trying to know, kid?"

"Did you sleep with anyone famous?"

Stan choked on his own spit, nearly swerved off the road, pulled onto the shoulder and then burst out laughing. "What the fuck, Gumdrop?" He cackled. "You - alright, just for that, I'll give you one."

Soos went silent.

"Richard Dreyfuss."

Soos sat right up. "The guy from Jaws?!"

"Same guy. He wasn't the one using his jaws, though, if you know what I'm saying."

"What was it like?"

"Eh, 7 out of 10, he shared his coke."

"And... Compared to me..?"

Stan froze up like a startled deer. "Kid, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"So worse?"

Stan sighed. "Not what I said."

Soos held his stuffed beaver closer to his chest. "I want a redo." He said firmly.

"I dunno what that means but--" Soos leaned over and kissed him and it was awkward and he only got the corner of Stan's mouth.

Stan sighed, bringing his hands up to Soos' shoulders and gently pushing him back. "Kid, you're killing me."

"Just one redo! I promise I can do better than the guy from Jaws. Maybe more than one redo for that, but still! Just gimme a chance--"

Stan yanked him forward, crashing their mouths together hard enough their teeth clacked together but Soos still melted into it, dropping his beaver in the cup holder and wrapping his arms around Stan with crushing force. "Do you know, " Stan murmured between kisses. "How fucking good you are?" He asked breathlessly. "You drive me up the fucking wall." Soos huffed, and Stan bit his lip. "You think you're anywhere close to some fucking John?" He broke away, grabbing both sides of Soos' face. "You got nothing to prove, you're fucking perfect."

Soos pawed at his floral button-down. "But I want a redo. Wanna go again."

Stan groaned. "Fine, but if we get arrested bail's coming out of your salary. Pants off."

Soos immediately started awkwardly shuffling his shorts down his legs, forgetting the zipper entirely. Stan caught his chin and brought it up. "This isn't a serious thing, you should still be messing with guys your own age." He said, and Soos leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He grumbled, burying his face in Soos' neck and shooing his hands off his shorts.

Soos huffed, squirming in his seat, one hand in Stan's hair. Stan pulled his cock out of his shorts, jerking it short and dry just to hear him whine about it.

"Th' is gonna be a bitch on my lumbar." Stan bitched against Soos' neck. "Pull your seat back."

Soos did the second Stan detached from his shoulder - bruise hidden immediately by the neck of his shirt - and looked down his nose at Stan like a kid at the dentist, no regard for looking hot, he didn't need it. Stan climbed over the gear shift and right into his lap.

"Can I take your shirt off?" Soos asked.

"If you're fast, sure." Stan said, grinding down on the poor kid hard enough to make him wheeze a little.

Soos grabbed the front of his shirt and ripped it open. Stan groaned, leaning forward to kiss him again. Soos ran his hands up his bare sides, warm hands enough to make him shiver.

Soos rutted up against Stan, precum leaving a stain on Stan's nice white pants and Stan huffed, sitting back up as much as he could without hitting the roof. He looked down at Soos, splayed out, hands clinging to the seat back, panting for air, and Stan felt a little curl of jealousy in his stomach.

Guys his age can't make him a mess like that.

He pulled himself out of his pants, put them both together - Soos dwarfed him a bit there, too, Stan loved it - and wrapped his hand around them, slowly running up and down, dry and teasing and Soos groaned, head thrown back, one hand reaching down to go over Stan's.

"M-Mister -- can--" Soos took his hand away, and Stan slowed.

He licked it - clear spit dripping off his tongue and hand and making Stan's dick twitch - and returned it. Stan let him grab the both of them before wrapping his hand over Soos', big enough to almost fully cover it, but he'd always had big hands (for a fiver).

He dragged Soos' hand up and down the both of them, and Soos just let him, rutting helplessly instead of doing something because he wasn't subtle. Stan didn't mind, setting a pace slow enough he could focus on watching Soos.

"I'm - I'm close, Mister Puh--"

"Go ahead, but I'm not stopping until I'm done." Stan huffed.

Soos moaned, mouth open, looking right at Stan while he covered their hands and Stan's belly in streaks of come and he had to be doing shit like that on purpose. No one was hard-wired to get under Stan's skin the way he was.

Stan started going faster, feeling his own end creeping up on him. Soos whined but didn't move his hand or his oversensitive dick away. Stan worked himself quickly with Soos' hand, watching him squirm - until he started shaking again, a few more pitiful strings of come coating Stan's thumb.

Stan groaned, loud and long and pointed them both to come on Soos' t-shirt. Soos looked proud of the stains.

The clean up was quiet, Stan getting back into the driver's side and wiping them both down with hoarded napkins from the glove box and didn't say a word.

Soos broke the silence. "Could I, uh. Have another redo tomorrow?"

"Kid, if anything but dust comes out for the next week I'll be counting my lucky stars, twice in two days is already a stretch."

"Oh. Well, next week then?"

"Don't go waiting on this old man's schedule, you should still find people your own age."

"But... I can still get another redo next week, right?"

"Just - fine, but keep it casual, yeah? I shouldn't be anybody's long-term anything."

"Deal." Soos said adamantly, going back to holding his stuffed beaver.

The rest of the drive was nice, he couldn't see the stars with the headlights on, but he could see tree shadows scroll by. They were back in half an hour, the Stanmobile pulling into his Abuelita's driveway.

"You gonna stay? We could sleep over in the living room. I'm pretty sure I left my truck up at the shack anyways."

Stan sighed. "Fine, but I'm using your shower."

Soos lead the way, both of them sneaking into the house. Stan made a b-line for the bathroom and Soos put down his beaver on the kitchen island.

There was a postcard next to it, Las Vegas written in a big gaudy graphic.

Oh. His birthday was in the middle of his business trip.

He hadn't even noticed, he was just having such a good time with Mr. Pines.

He looked between the stuffed beaver and the postcard from the city he was just in.

He threw out the postcard.

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what if stanley's memories didnt just get erased.. what if the gun made him de-age to 8 years old... ouhhgg babyy

stanley living at the shack while they all try to figure out a way to return him back to his original age, which they learn might be impossible..

so ford ends up adopting lil stanley!! its awkward as hell but ford's just glad he has his brother back, so now his mission is give stanley the best childhood he can, to make up for all his past mistakes.

also, lil stanley is convinced that he's just time traveled, which ford goes along with, bc he couldnt handle having to break it to stan about him never being able to see his parents, or lil ford..

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"Soos is completely oblivious to Stan's crimes" SOOS???? The guy that put an illegal engine in a golf cart for fun yeah okay I bet Stan's never had to bail him out of jail either