#the bucket is made for them in the way the skip button was

[spiderh0rse]

every lets player in the world is cookie9

[queenburd]

it's not going to let me rest until i write about it, so tonight I want to talk about the TSP2 Expo in Ultra Deluxe, and why it's a thing at all, and what it means about the Narrator, and how deeply self-conscious he is.

The Expo is, and I say this without exaggeration, the Narrator's deep, desperate need to respond to the audience and the reviews from the Skip button ending. They say he's not funny; he makes "a whole lot of gags". He's still reactionary, he makes all of this in response to (and in my mind, in the downtime during) the Skip button, and it's the first thing you can find right after the game resets from the Skip button.

He's not over it.

TSPUD in general is in a big way about the relationship between an artist and their audience. (i swear on my life i've written those words before...) it's about how a creator can and does create for themself but does, on a real level, yearn for an audience to understand and appreciate, while also being scared that people wont get it, and also being scared about "needing" a reaction to begin with.

Create for oneself, sure, but you still want people to like the thing you made. You want them to experience it, this thing you put so much time into. You want them to laugh at the jokes, that's why the jokes are there, and you hope they hit right.

Elements of that have always been in TSP but they're at the forefront of TSPUD and especially all the Expo stuff. Even while the Narrator, in Skip button rants, berates the audience for wanting jokes and gags and bits to distract them, he immediately wants to please. He's yearning to be understood, and he thinks if he can just give the people what they want, then surely they'll find the meaning in his work.

And then there's that darn Bucket. And while the Bucket feels like, at times, a stand-in for the Narrator or a way for him to project, it's easier for me to see him trying to frame Stanley's bond to the Bucket as a parallel to his bond to Stanley, instead of the other way around.

Stanley is the thing that is here in this world and story to comfort the Narrator. But Stanley is also the thing that can crush the Narrator's spirit.

In the Press Conference Ending, Stanley's bold new approach to story-telling gets him lauded, gets him praise. In the Bucket version, he tries to make the Bucket understand him through other people understanding him, and it fails. It scans as the Narrator desperately trying to reach out to Stanley, even as he tries to get adoration from an audience. Stanley only has eyes for the Bucket in the Apartment ending; in the end, the Narrator only has Stanley for company, and he on some level wants Stanley to appreciate him. He asks for feedback in the Games ending. And while nothing will ever really make him happy, there, he still asks.

In the end, Stanley's the only audience that really matters. He wants Stanley to like the things he makes.

"Why did I create Stanley? Was I lonely?"

He was. And the audience he's looking for isn't one he can interact with.

TSPUD is about a creator's relationship with an audience, hoping they will play the game, and like the game, and understand the game, so that they'll keep playing. And the game "ends" when the creator says "okay. I think I'm ready to try something new. for real this time!"

And then he gets pulled right back, because the audience response is just so uproarious. How can you move on from a thing that did, on some level, garner you success? Shouldn't you just stick with the thing that made you successful? But how do you make it better, when it felt like a complete work?

When do you get to move on? When do you make that choice? Will the audience understand? Will they follow you? Or do they just want more of the same?

The answer isn't simple.

[waklman]

Hi Tilly! So, I’m living by myself for the first time and my dishwasher just flooded my apartment 🫠I’m fine😀, really… 😭. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you to maybe write something with Bradley and babybear 🥺. They are my comfort characters! love ya ❤️

summary: you and bradley go out for a late night snack or bf! bradley who stands there in silence x gf! who orders food for them both.

warnings: mentions of strict dieting, one or two suggestive jokes. fluff, 18+ blog.

note: helpp the way that kind of made me laugh. as a fellow girlie who also gets herself in trouble when left alone, i hope your floors are okay! excuse the quality as writers block has me by the neck

something 'bout you masterlist.

It’s not often that Bradley dines out. He’ll indulge in some of Penny’s greasy bar snacks once in a while—nothing more than that.

With the one time he did slack off, it wasn’t exactly easy to get back to his original physique. In fact, Bradley even found himself struggling to keep up with the likes of Hangman at one point.

And that was just the wake up call he needed to finally get back on track. 

Since then, he’s made sure to double down on his efforts to stay in shape, scarfing down his protein packed, repetitive, plain meals. It’d be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit tasking, but it's nothing Bradley Bradshaw couldn’t put up with. And when Bradley was committed towards something, he was all in. 

But what he forgot to include in his ‘fool proof’ plan to remain loyal to his diet, was his stubborn girlfriend who loves to spoil him rotten. Which is why he's finding it difficult to swallow down his food tonight.

The usual pre-prepped dinner has never tasted so bland and downright dry, especially when you���re planted in front of him with that tablet in your hands.

For the past thirty minutes, Bradley has been subjected to a screening of strangers eating a variety of foods—from huge portions of instant noodles—to enormous crab legs being dipped in buckets of cheese. 

He’s seen it all. 

“Give in,” you whisper, fingers tightly curled around the edges of the ipad, though, you’re careful enough to not block the screen itself.

Across the rounded table he’s sat in, you’re standing there like you’re getting paid to show him a compilation of mukbang videos. You’d put the billboards lined up on the nearby highways to shame. 

“Not a fucking chance,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head firmly. 

Stabbing his fork into another piece of boiled chicken, Bradley stuffs it into his mouth in defiance. He refuses to wave the white flag, not when he’s worked so hard to finally restrain himself.

Maverick would have to come twirling into the living-room in ballerina-get up for him to take it as a sign to treat himself to a cheat meal. 

At his clear refusal to give in, your head peeks out, just so slightly, behind the thirteen inch screen, eyes narrowed with fiery determination igniting them.

“Mcdonalds. Wendys. Burger King. In and Out,” you repeatedly chant, legs starting to tremble under the strain of standing up for so long. 

Bradley only flares his nostrils, a sign that he is not backing down either.

In any other scenario, his knees would’ve immediately buckled after one plea from you. But right now, he knows you’d stuff his face with junk—that he’s been successfully cutting out for months, if you were given the okay from him.

Though, he does have to admit, he’s finding it hard to keep a stern face because your legs look like they’re about to completely give out. Not wanting to keep you up any longer, Bradley tunes out your endless chant of fast food chains—which somehow turns into a catchy song, as he shovels more strips of chicken in his mouth.

Maybe if he finishes his dinner faster, he could coax you onto the couch to watch more Ryan Gosling movies. 

Following your gut feeling, you lift a finger to the front of the screen, tapping repeatedly on the skip button—until it felt right. After spamming your pointer just a few times, you lift the index off the glass, letting it play at a random point in the compilation.

Bradley’s tongue prods his cheek, straight face starting to falter. “Baby it’s not gonna work. Please just sit dow—” 

His mouth immediately clamps shut, throat moving as he swallows back a wad of drool pooling inside his mouth. The boring dinner under him is long forgotten. 

Noticing his dazed state, you lower the screen to probe what finally caught his attention. Bradley’s eyes practically trails the movement of the tablet, not looking away for a second.

A platter of juicy burgers leaking oil and mountains of fries is what breaks him. 

“And he’ll have the double bacon-burger, two large fries, one coke and—” 

The teenage boy behind the register blinks in disbelief, watching the giant man in front of him lean down towards his girlfriend, shyly whispering in her ear. 

Bradley draws back again, standing a head taller than you with his arms crossed around your front, glassy eyes roaming the lit-up menu stretched above the line of registers. 

“Oh, can we actually make that a root beer? Also I’m really sorry, but can you remove the tomatoes from the burger as well?” You request, giving Bradley comforting strokes on the forearm he has slung over your chest.

“Yes, Ma’m I can…I can do that for you,” the worker clears his throat, editing the order on the screen, customer service voice practically cracking. 

When you two first walked in, with matching pajama pants, the fast food employee assumed he was dealing with a pair of psychos from the streets.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he’d always get one or two unsettling visitors in the duration of his night shift. But they’d always prowl inside the joint by themselves—they never had company—nor have they ever teamed up on him before. Briefly, he considered hovering his hand over the dusty emergency button directly under the counter. 

But to his surprise, you two were just a relatively normal couple with a craving for burgers at midnight. 

“Alrighty, your total comes out to 18.50,” he reads, eyes nervously darting between the two of you. “...Will that be cash or card?”

Almost in a race with each other, you both drop the lovely couple act, digging in your own pajama pants for your wallets. The anxious worker behind the counter starts taking a careful step back, afraid you two were going to pull out a weapon on him all of a sudden. God, he shouldn’t have let his guard down so easily. 

He stills as you beat Bradley to it, holding out a credit card between your fingers, excitedly pointing it towards him. 

Bradley begins to panic, patting down his empty pockets. “Babybear, where the fuck is my wallet?” He tilts his head down at you, a knowing look settling on his face. 

As the credit card is taken from you, your mouth stretches into a wide smile, and you crane your neck backwards to look at him. “I tossed it in the back of the car when you weren’t looking,” you gleam in satisfaction.

Bradley sighs in disbelief, no wonder you were so clingy in the car. 

“Is that why you were crawlin’ all over me during all the stop lights?” 

“Gimme a kiss,” you suddenly demand, cutting him off. 

Bradley blinks at your puckered lips.

It practically pulls him into a trance, because he’s already dipping his head down to give you a quick peck. In a strange way, it’s almost a perfect recreation of that upside-down spider man kiss scene. 

Ultimately, he decides to keep the comparison to himself. If he were to mention it, you’d most likely start gushing about another movie actor.

He’s already heard enough of Ryan Gosling lately.

“I know you can open your mouth bigger than that,” you frown in his lap, readjusting the bundle of fries between your fingers. 

The buckle of his undone seatbelt hits your ankle when you wriggle to find a comfortable position next.

Bradley licks the ketchup off his lip. “Yeah, you would know,” he teases, giving your butt a quick squeeze, sleazy look on his face. 

Somehow, he’s the same person who was barely able to order food for himself inside the burger joint that’s currently behind his parked Bronco.

Receiving a silent look of disapproval from you, he finally clears his throat. 

“Okay, someone didn’t find that funny,” he mumbles, stretching his mouth wider for you.

“A little more. Ahhh,” you sing, encouraging him to take the fistful of french fries. Under you, Bradley nearly chokes when you stuff one more in his mouth, slamming his jaw shut with finality. 

“I like when your mouth is full. Less talking,” you jut your chin at him, all too pleased with the lapse of silence. 

Bradley stills his chewing, raising a brow at you. 

“Ugh! Stop it. Keep chewing those fries,” you complain, reaching for the large root beer resting on the dashboard behind you.

Bradley grins, mouth full of food, holding you steady when you twist your middle to grab the drink. 

Swallowing down a large ball of potato, he leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw, taking a long sip from the drink cradled between your hands. 

“Are you full?” You question, watching him lean back after finishing off the remains of the beverage. You decide to set the empty cup into the driver's seat for now. 

“Feeling so full, baby,” he groans, shutting his eyes as if it’ll help him digest it faster. 

Pursing your lips to hold back a laugh, you place a suggestive hand over his stomach. “Yeah? Feel it all in your tummy,” your voice drops to a lower register, mimicking his dirty talk from the other day. 

His eyes snap open, immediately.

The cramped Bronco, littered in empty paper bags and greasy wrapping paper jostles as he rushes to sit up tall. “You said no more jokes,” he scoffs, pinching your sides. What you said was worse than everything else he spat out tonight. 

“Hey,” you whine, scratching his bloated stomach with your nails. “Don’t act all mad big guy. I know you’re about to give in anyways,” you giggle. 

Bradley traces his teeth with his tongue, failing to conceal his growing smile. Because you’re right.

If you weren’t, he wouldn’t be thirty minutes away from home, favorite person in his lap and favorite cheat meal in his stomach.

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[bucketfullofstrawberries]

I Walk up to a tiny little podium in the middle of nowhere in particular

Taps the microphone

Ahem

Now introducing,

Welcome to the Paraverse

(A parody of Welcome To The Internet by Bo Burnham. Written by Me)

Welcome to the Paraverse! Have a look around~ Anything that brain of yours can think of can be found! We've got oodles of NEW content, Some better, some worse.. If none of it's of interest to you, you'd be the first! Welcome to the Paraverse! Come and take a seat, Would you like to see our theories or some senior citizens meet? There's no need to panic, This isn't a test, Haha! Just pick and choose your path and we'll do the rest. Welcome to the Paraverse What would you prefer? Would you like to make an eldritch god or see some chains occur? Go this way, Go that way, Don't move an inch! We got a million different ideas to pitch. Welcome to the Paraverse, Put your cares aside Here's some brand new art to steal, Here's the tenth time Stanley's died. We got animators, and artists, and fics of all kinds. And a bunch of colored digital drawings Of all the different characters in the game making out with each other, Welcome to the Paraverse,,, Hold on to your scarfs 'Cause Kevan just tweeted out about sawing little girls in half It's silly, it's stupid, He just tweeted more, Don't act surprised, these tweets are things that you' ve seen before! See the bucket shredded, Get offended, see a twink. Show us pictures of their children, Make them take the purple drink Start a rumor, buy a broom Or call out Thierry as a boomer Take your oc and then doom her Join a zoom or make weird humour Here's a brand new Narrator You should set that child aflame Here's why women never loved you Here's a guide to build your fame Which in-game character are you? Take this quirky quiz! Things made a bug that makes those gay fuckers kiss. Could I interest you in everything? All of the time? A little bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything All of the time Could I interest you in everything? All of the time? A little bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything All of the time You know, it wasn't always like this Not very long ago Just before it's prime, Right before the memory zone, the keeper of time This was button press Endless resets A sad death or two, We set our sights and spent our nights Waiting For you, you, insatiable you Mommy let you play indie games You were barely 4'2 And you went through all endings Which, to you, were brand new,, Now look at you, oh Look at you, you, you Unstoppable, watchable Your time is now Your inside's out Honey, how we knew And if we stick together Who knows what we'll do It was always the plan To put the decisions in your hands Hahaha,,HAHhahahHAHAH,,,HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Could I interest you in everything? All of the time A bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything All of the time Could I interest you in everything? All of the time A little bit of everything All of the time Stairs are now a tragedy And time-skips are a crime Anything and everything And everythings not ending And the ending's never ending And, All of the time~!

Thank you for your time <3

[thecoolerspringbon-t]

Here are some sketches I made of “The Missing Co-Workers event” And some details I enjoyed when making it.

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I have to start with my favorite ending I drew:

The Figurine ending!

I had to draw inspiration from The Creation of Adam painting, no specific reason, I just thought it would look cool.

At first I thought putting everyone of the ending on the planks that lead to the figurine on the Cargo Lift (Image on the left). But I figured, the first figurine that we find in the TSP2 expo would look way better giving that amazing feeling you get when you collect them all! (Image on the right).

I'm happy with the result, I feel like there’s something so poetic about it, like when you first get that ending …

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Ah! The confusión ending!

This one also had some changes, mostly on the first image (Left)

What I wanted is to everyone to be confused! That’s why no one looks happy in it (Except for the people who looked at the fern lol!)

But I also wanted some people to find the pages of Employee 432's lore. So it was either the secret hallway or the archives room.

I figured the archives room would be better, leaving everyone to wonder what they could find there…

Once again, I'm happy with the result on all the whole ending, I think it very much captures the feeling of dread and frustration you get when first playing this ending!

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The silly ones I also enjoyed drawing were the Is This… a Bucket? Ending (left) Mostly because of @mrfisherot Oc, They sent me their cartoon-y Oc but I asked if I could do the literal png character they had and so I did! So he’s just there… fishing… It was so funny, I really enjoyed it!

And the Mariella Ending (right), This one was special! I think it’s the only ending where the oc faces cannot be seen, I felt bad for doing that but I'm glad both @whosectype and @pawl3ss liked the result. And of course, I had to do the Family Guy dead pose LMAO!

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And finally…

The Skip Button Ending…

The people in the skip button Ending were supposed to be on different scenarios (Images below) than the one the ended up being in the end (upper images)

I wanted to capture the same things I felt when playing this, fear, confusion, regret and amusement. I thought to myself “What would they do if they were trapped in a room for an eternity with everything around them changing?…

…And then… having freedom, just to realize everything is gone”…

This was the last image I drew, I remember tearing up from drawing the characters and thinking about the sense of freedom but at what cost?… I still like it, I think about this one a lot…

I'm not sure if I captured the feelings I wanted to portray but I'm still proud. This event was a hell to finish because of problems and delays but I'm so happy of seeing people find their friends on the drawings! to find each other! To find the missing co-workers…

Thank you for reading and participating!

-Spring

[griefabyss69]

steddie rated m or e 😈

not gonna be picky but maybe something inspired by this line: “you would forget your underwear”

Mostly because I believe in my heart that you could write something devastatingly sexy about something so very silly. Congrats on 100 followers!!!

Hiiiii~ this is probably still more silly than sexy but they're like, horny about it <3 So I hope you still enjoy!!! Steddie - Rated: M - 1121 Words

(Full thing under the cut!)

contains: One terrible moment of wordplay and Steve pushing Eddie's buttons (sexy)

"Listen," Eddie begins as he turns his back, hands at his waistband. "I know you've got jock socialization, but maybe close your eyes or something."

Steve hears that, and sure, of course he'll do whatever makes him comfortable – but they've changed in front of each other like a hundred times by now. He could literally go out and buy the exact same brand and size of boxers that Eddie wears if he wanted, if wasn't Sunday and the stores weren't closed.

"Alright," he says, turning his back too for added security. "You wearing something lacy tonight?"

It's a joke.

It's only a joke, but Steve thinks if Eddie said yes then he wouldn't be walking out of this room until his jaw was sore and he owed Eddie a new pair of lace underpants.

It gets a reedy laugh out of him though, makes the awkward air between them a little tense in another way, but sadly Eddie squashes his hopes and dreams before he can get too carried away brainstorming how to convince Eddie in a totally no pressure way that he should let Steve put his mouth on his cock.

"Nah, I uh," Eddie laughs, shaky. "There's just… nothing."

Nothing.

Well, that's a hell of a lot sexier than his boxers, that's for fucking sure.

Steve bites his lip, nods in encouragement before he remembers they're not even facing each other, and puts a smile on his face so it comes through in his voice–

"You would forget your underwear," he says, maybe overkill on the teasing but he practically hears the sizzle of Eddie's blush from here. "You get distracted by a sick guitar riff while getting dressed?"

Eddie groans, and it sounds like he finally bites the bullet, his belt clinking as he works his pants off.

The zipper, the denim brushing against itself, against all of Eddie's bare skin, that's a sound that would get Steve to skip his briefs in the morning.

He'd skip everything else too.

"No, you asshole," he says, but he's got a chuckle in his voice and there's the soft rustle of him pulling a pair of Steve's sweats on. "Just a super-duper miscalculated laundry day."

"Ohhh, I see. You got lazy at the wrong time," he continues to tease, and once he's sure Eddie's not all balls-out, he turns to gauge how red he's made him.

It's not as red as he knows he can get, and he seems tense in a specific way, like that time he got a major hard on in the middle of movie night and nothing he did would get rid of it. Steve still thinks about when he had to jerk off in the upstairs bathroom on slow days at work.

"Hey, I'm usually really good at laundry!" Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Uh huh," Steve says, just to be a bitch, even though he believes him, doesn't really care about it either way. "Maybe you didn't forget at all."

Eddie scoffs, kicks at his leg.

"I literally just said I didn't forget. I ran out, and didn't think you'd want my dirty underwear in your bed."

Well… he's right about that.

"So thoughtful of you," he says as dryly as possible. "Do you think it would be sexier if you wore lace in those jeans, or was today sexy enough for you?"

He narrows in on the crimson spilling over his skin like someone tipped over a paint bucket, the way his mouth opens a little bit in shock, the way his eyebrows furrow at him with a hunted look.

Steve could hunt him for real, sink his teeth right in, with how crazy it makes him.

"You talk like that in the locker room, Harrington?" Eddie asks, shifting restlessly, and – okay.

Steve's distracted from the last name thing because Eddie's cock swings when he moves, clearly starting to get hard, totally free under the sweatpants.

"Never," he says, eyes locked in, unable to even pretend he's not pushing like a million buttons right now and hoping nothing blows up in his face. "Answer the question."

"Jesus," Eddie mutters, rubbing his hand over his face. "Are you having fun with this?"

Steve looks up long enough to meet his eyes and give him the most sincere nod he can muster up.

"You're the worst," Eddie laughs, gathering his hair up to get it off of his hot neck, before he lets it all drop in a sweep, way too graceful for the condition it's in. "And… I think they'd be two different kinds of sexy, you can't really make them compete."

It's such an unexpected answer and it also makes so much sense. It's like Eddie's thought about it before, and isn't that something.

"So it was sexy? How long were you free balling?" He asks, taking a step closer just to see what Eddie does.

"All day," Eddie's voice doesn't really crack, but it fries, and Steve wants to push right up against him to see what else he can get it to do. "It was… too uh… I just felt kind of exposed."

God.

"Well, if you still feel like that, you can always borrow some shorts," he says, because while he's riding the line, he wants Eddie to have the option to step back behind it. "Or is it different since you're just in my house?"

Eddie blinks rapidly as if he's building a shield with his eyelashes, making some lightspeed decisions that Steve guesses he'll never hear about.

"I'm okay," he says, shifting from one foot to the other in such a subtle movement that if Steve wasn't studying him then he wouldn't notice the purpose of it. "Also these are a lot softer than my jeans."

Steve laughs, even as he watches the outline of Eddie's shaft twitch. He's getting a little harder.

"Your poor cock," he says, drawing up all of his strength so he doesn't offer to soothe it with his mouth. "It needs to get used to it, huh?"

Eddie's mouth does a wry twist, his eyebrows furrowed like he's perplexed, but there's something brewing in his skull that Steve knows he's going to pretend to hate.

"What, like commando training?" He asks, and Steve bites his lip.

That's actually kind of clever. All of Eddie's worst puns are, because that's how they get stuck in Steve's head.

"You're fucking terrible," he sighs, just to give him the reaction he wants.

Eddie beams.

"Nah, I'm incredible," he says, sarcastically flipping his hair in a way that he used to do to make fun of Steve.

Now he just does it all the time like, ironically, or so he says.

"Incredibly terrible, yes."

[kirchefuchs]

heyy so remember the Skip Button Ending

allow me to just tell u a bit of smthn that constantly resides in my brain

The Skip Button Ending happened in The Narrator's memory zone

When Stanley disappeared for so long, not only did The Skip Button turn into The Narrator's past, it slowly became the only memory he knew. That was why the door disappeared; there were no other places in the memory zone. The Narrator locked himself in his past, present.. ..and future.

And guess what happened when The Narrator died and Stanley was able to get out? There were no other memories; just the broken reminiscence of the skip button.

anywho so that's why I'm sad today

—🅰️non

Oh wow. Okay. That's heartbreaking and absolutely awesome. I love this idea so much.

(I'm about to go on a super long tangent so I'm putting a readmore here)

Consider the following: since it's all but stated outright that the Epilogue takes place right after the Skip Button Ending, and you find the remains of the Memory Zone and parts of the office, Narry isn't dead yet, but he's dying. Barely holding on, mostly dead, like Westley from Princess Bride. The only reason the Parable hasn't collapsed in on itself and the only reason the Timekeeper can reset anything at all is because Narry is still just barely there.

But oh my gosh this is still so freaking cool, and it makes sense how Stanley can be both in the past and the future at the same time, since after the Skip Button he both is reset and not reset at the same time so he can still effect the Parable and in turn the Epilogue since he's in both times at once. Like how you can get the bucket in the Epilogue if you put it in the Escape Pod.

I imagine that Timekeeper us really just trying to keep the Parable going to keep Narry alive, keep him in his loop just before death so their entire world doesn't collapse around them. And the only way for any of this to change is if Stanley does something about it. No one else can affect the Parable in quite the way Stanley can, and so the only way to free them all from this loop would be for Stanley to take Narry with him to the Escape Pod, take him there and trigger the ending to free them all from the game.

Ohhhhh oh ho ho ho!!! This would be so cool!!!! Anon I love you for this idea!!! My brain is full of ideas now and I wanna scream/pos

So to summarize here

By making the Skip Button in the Memory Zone the Narrator inadvertently causes the Skip Button to be all his memories are and as the percieved years and decades and centuries pass the Narrator loses his grip on the Parable to the point where he's so weak and close to death that everything starts to crumble around them. As Stanley steps out into the desert the Timekeeper jumps in to reset the game as they realize what's happening to it as the Narrator dies. The Timekeeper only has enough control over the resets to put them in a continuous never-ending loop that resets just before the Narrator dies in a futile effort to keep the Parable collapsing, which would kill everyone inside. Eventually Stanley discovers that he's still able to change things about their future. After countless loops in the Parable Stanley finds out (probably from the Timekeeper themself) that the only way to free them all from the loop would be for Stanley to take the Narrator through the Escape Pod Ending. It takes a lot of convincing but eventually they manage it and as the door to the Escape Pod closes and their vision fades to black.... they wake up outside the Parable and in the real world, they're free. Everyone who was stuck there was released and the Parable itself, without the Narrator, Curator, and Timekeeper there to keep the game running it collapses and is left a shell of what it used to be. But what does that matter when everyone made it out safely.

And they all go on to figure out the world together. Stanley, Mariella, and 432 likely taking the lead as they were humans trapped inside the game and still remember some of how the outside world works.

And they all live happily ever after!

Yaaayyy happy ending :D

[sangijazz]

Love MegaBytes - a LoveBug AU Stanley x shadow!Narrator fanfic

Chapter 5

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Notes:

- Content Warnings:

- Viral Corruption;

- Gaslighting and Emotional Manipulation (by both parties);

- Obsessive Behavior;

- Unhealthy Possessive Behavior;

I don’t think that the contents of this chapter are heavy and/or explicit enough to warrant the skip-summary treatment, I hope I’m right, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

And I also apologize in advance if my depiction of sign language is wrong, feel free to correct me.

—

General Notes:

They /them pronouns for the Timekeeper;

They/them pronouns for the Bucket;

I made a little playlist for you, my dears, with songs that I listen to when writing Love MegaBytes (and in general really)

Here

I like stalker songs, there are some odd ones there but they are my Stannarrator songs. I accept recommendations for new songs for the playlist!

Some typos in the dialog are intentional.

I hope the zalgo is readable ;p but if it isn’t there is a transcript at the end of the chapter.

Enjoy~

----

In recollection, resetting might have been a bad idea, but everyone knew it was the only chance. Pink, pulsating, vein-like ruptures assaulted his opening eyes, it was on, in, everything, and everywhere . The ominous throbbing rose light coming out of them was the only thing illuminating the place. Stanley could see from his trapped position, chunks of the wall were missing, much like that little hole that began this all, the headache-inducing green binary he remembered, now laid bare and broken now too with that pink color, they were also bare, his drawings, all gone, stolen? Eaten? Were more things missing?!

Desperately, he darted his gaze to his hand, checking for that same corruption in himself. There was nothing, his model looked untouched.

“O̴k̵a̸y̴,̷ ̵S̸t̴_n̴l̷e̷y̷ ̵d̶e̵a̵r̸.̴ ̶L̷e̷t̴’̶s̵ ̸s̶t̷a̷_t̶ ̸t̴h̷i̷s̶ ̶a̶g̴_i̸n̸”

The voice that rang through the parable was as familiar as ever, but together with it the maddening glitches worsened, now the words were coming out even more broken, repeating, pieces missing.

Now, again in this paralyzed state, his plan seemed flimsy and not that good, too much like last time, he felt the dread and uncertainty quickly creeping through his coded nerves.  

“T̷r̵y̷ ̴t̴o̶ ̶f̸o̶l̴_w̸ ̷t̴h̷e̶ ̴s̸c̴r̴i̷p̴t̷ ̸t̸h̷i̶s̵ ̵t̸i̴m̸e̸,̶ ̷a̴l̶r̶i̵g̶h̵t̸,̵ ̵d̷_r̵l̵i̴n̸g̵?̴~̶”

The pulse of the light created stark shadows that looked oh-so alive, and all-consuming. The contrasting forces battled for dominance and also worked together to swallow all. 

The Narrator cleared its nonexistent throat, the cue to begin.

“T̵h̵i̶s̴ ̴i̵s̴ ̴a̸ ̷s̴t̴o̶r̷y̸ ̸o̸f̵ ̸a̸n̸ ̸a̷m̴_z̶i̴n̶g̷ ̷m̶a̶n̶ ̴n̵a̴m̷_d̴ ̶S̷t̴a̷_l̶e̶y̵~̸”

Taking the situation into consideration, it would be better to play smart (how he didn’t think of this before is more evidence he wasn’t the smart one), starting to run now would probably be a bad strategy, waiting for a better opportunity closer to the Curator then give chase. Stanley almost felt proud of this one, he prayed it would work.

Surprisingly, the screen of his computer blinked to life, the disparity of its black-gray background and white font against the pink roots covering its surface.

"Hello?!1! 

Is anybody there?!?!1?

What the hell is going on?!!?1?"

[??]   [??]

Is that…

IS  THAT THE TIMEKEEPER?!

Oh, thank the gods, Stanley wasn’t alone! There was another being just as confused and terrified as him. If only he could move he would answer them, send a life signal and assure them they weren’t alone. This made Stanley’s core sprout a wee bit of hope. Were the Narrator and the Parable the only affected?  This could be proven to be beneficial, if everyone else was still sound of mind. The dark being was still talking, but its words weren’t registering correctly, they were almost too mangled to understand.

“ –d̵i̸d̷ ̵e̵v̵_r̸y̶ ̵d̶a̸y̸ ̴o̴f̷ ̸e̸v̴e̷r̷y̸ ̴m̵o̸n̷_h̵–”

 The second he was allowed to move, he would find a way to click a button as an answer, for the Timekeeper’s sake.

Stanley took a deep breath, ‘siking himself up to put up to the task of pretending he wasn’t scared shitless. His body shook with fear, as the Narrator got near the end of the introduction. Keep it steady, Stanley. He had a task to do.

“S̷o̷ ̶w̷i̴t̸h̶ ̶a̵ ̶s̴_i̴l̸e̶,̸ ̷h̵e̷ ̵g̶o̶t̸ ̸u̷p̵ ̸f̵r̵o̵m̵ ̷h̵i̶s̸ ̸d̶e̴_k̵ ̸a̶n̸d̴ ̷s̶t̵e̴p̸p̶e̶d̶ ̶o̷u̸t̶ ̴o̵f̶ ̶h̵i̵s̵ ̸o̸f̵f̷_c̴e̵.̴”

As soon the engine read and loaded the line that gave him movement, he let his hands fall, purposely letting them hit the keyboard’s key and he hoped it was enough of n answer for them.

Thankfully it was since the effect was instantaneous as more words in white font appeared like they were frantically typed, not caring for spelling.

"Stamley?!?!? Are you okay??! Do you now what th e fuck is going on!?!"

This was unfortunately, that was all he could do – without drawing too much attention or letting the Narrator get impatient – no matter how much he wanted to.  Now, he had to play along, he would ask for forgiveness later.

Before the watcher entity could voice its impatience with threats, the avatar stood up, did his best to crack a smile like it wanted, and made what the narration asked for.

All he could see was in the same state as the 427 office and here made Stanley realize how he missed the low humming of the fluorescent light that was much better than the eldritch and indescribable sound of code falling apart hammering bass inside his head, assaulting his ears. 

All the Office’s usual colors were muted, gray-scaled except for that bright pink, that the vessel swore that he would hate for his whole life, and now he feared his retinas were permanently stained with that shade. His smile threatened to falter.

“O̵h̶!̸ ̵S̶o̶_e̴o̵n̸e̸ ̸i̷s̶ ̵e̶a̴g̶e̶r̶!̷~̶” beamed the Narrator, thankfully not noticing the minor stumble. “N̶o̴w̵,̸ ̷g̵o̷ ̸o̶n̷,̶ ̶l̷o̴v̴e̷,̴ ̷t̸o̵ ̷o̸u̸r̸ ̸f̷a̵v̸o̵r̷i̸t̵e̸ ̸d̸o̴o̷r̷s̷!̴ ̵A̵n̴d̸,̴” the voice dropped to a lower tone “D̷o̷n̴’̷t̵ ̴f̸o̴_g̸e̵t̴ ̴t̸o̸ ̵ f̶o̷l̷l̶o̶w̸ ̷m̶y̸ ̵e̵_e̵r̶y̷ ̵w̸o̷r̴d̷,̶ ̴w̴e̴ ̸b_t̴h̸ ̸w̵a̴n̷t̷ ̶f̴o̵r̶ ̴y̸o̴u̵ ̶t̴o̶ ̵g̶e̵t̵ ̵t̴o̶ ̵t̵h̶e̸ ̷s̸u̷r̵_r̴i̶s̷e̷,̵ ̷r̶i̸g̷h̵t̸,̶ ̵S̵t̸a̷n̶l̷e̶y̶ ̷d̶e̸a̵r̸?̷~̴”

Nodding with fake excitement, Stanley began to carefully take steps forward since the floor also was being eaten, with holes leading to the eternal void where the parable was situated. The computers’ screens shone with errors and random ciphers. Everything was breaking.

In the next room of cubicles, on their usual spot, shone the Bucket in the darkness, untouched by the infection, a beacon of hope. The sight made the man hurry to embrace his old friend, the metallic creature eagerly embracing him too, and reassuring him they were fine. The action generated no comment from the Narrator, thankfully, it had gone unnoticed or seen as unimportant, maybe it was still in the mind set they were still a nonsentient object.

The Bucket asked if he had a plan and he hugged them tighter against his chest and nodded slightly, it was half-baked however it was all he had. They comforted him, assuring him it would work.

“S̵t̷_n̷l̷e̵y̵ ̶n̸e̷v̸e̸r̵ ̷h̴a̵d̷ ̴c̷o̴w̴o̷r̷k̸_r̴s̴ ̶t̴o̸ ̸b̴e̴g̵i̵n̷ ̸w̶i̵t̵h̴,̴ ̷t̶h̷e̴ ̶O̵f̵f̵i̵c̵e̶ ̸w̶_s̸ ̵o̶n̷l̸y̶ ̶f̶o̴r̵ ̴h̵i̸m̵ ̸a̸n̸d̴ ̷t̴h̷e̵ ̵N̵a̷r̸r̷a̸t̴_r̸.̸ ̴N̸o̶ ̴o̶n̵e̶ ̸t̴o̴ ̶t̷a̸k̶e̵ ̸f̸r̴_m̴ ̵e̷a̵c̷h̷ ̷o̷t̴h̴e̷r̴.̶"

The collision was still active, the Bucket told him as they saw Stanley hesitate next to a big hole in the hallway, he wouldn’t fall. 

“H̸_v̸e̵ ̴I̶ ̴e̶v̴e̸r̵ ̸t̶o̴l̵d̸ ̷y̶o̵u̵ ̴h̶o̵w̵ ̷m̴_c̵h̷ ̵I̸ ̷l̴o̶v̷e̵ ̵y̶o̵u̸?̴ ̴Y̷o̶u̷ ̵a̴r̷e̶ ̶s̸o̵ ̶p̵r̸_c̸i̶o̴u̷s̵ ̷t̷o̴ ̵m̵e̴,̶ ̴m̶y̶ ̸l̴i̴t̴t̵l̷e̷ ̴c̶r̷e̸a̴t̸i̴o̴n̵…̵” it seemed to be monologuing not really looking for an answer “W̷i̸t̶h̵o̷u̴t̸ ̸y̷o̵u̸,̶ ̷h̶o̶w̵ ̸c̸o̸u̴l̸d̷ ̵I̶ ̴e̴x̴i̷s̶t̶?̶ ̸W̸i̶t̶h̶o̸_t̷ ̶m̵e̶,̵ ̵w̶h̵o̸ ̶w̴o̷u̴l̴d̷ ̴y̶_u̸ ̵b̸e̷,̵ ̸u̶h̸,̶ ̷m̵y̸ ̸d̴a̶r̷l̸i̶_g̵?̵” it growled, sounding so possessive “M̵i̸n̸e̶,̸ ̴m̶_n̶e̶,̶ ̷m̷i̴_e̸~̴” it spat as the avatar turned the corner like an only-child throwing a fit because they hated to share their toys, but stopped as they got to the next relevant stop on their journey.

Like always, Stanley found himself in front of the two doors. Now, he just needed to go through the left door– 

“W̸h̷e̶n̴,̸ ̵m̷y̶ ̶d̵a̴r̴l̴i̷n̷g̴ ̵S̴t̴a̵n̷l̶e̸y̵,̵ ̸c̵a̸m̴e̴ ̶t̸o̸ ̶a̶ ̸s̵e̷t̴ ̶o̸f̷ ̵t̵w̸o̷ ̴o̵p̵e̸n̴ ̴d̵o̸o̴r̶s̴,̶ ̶h̷e̷ ̵e̵n̸t̴e̸r̸e̷d̵ ̴t̷h̸e̶ ̸d̷o̵o̵r̷ ̶o̵n̶ ̷h̵i̶s̸ ̶r̴i̷g̷h̵t̷ .̷” even with the distortion, the entity had an audible smug smirk.

The vessel’s eyes widen with horror and surprise. That was not good. Not at all. Shit. Stanley didn’t want to begin running right now. Shit. Breathe and think. Think!

 The Narrator laughed with self-satisfaction, it was expecting that surprised reaction from him.

“O̸h̸,̷ ̴I̴ ̶k̴n̶_w̷,̶ ̵d̵e̴a̵r̴!̸~̶ ̸I̶s̶n̶’̸t̵ ̶t̷h̴i̴s̴ ̸e̷x̷c̶i̷t̵_n̸g̶?̸!̸~̵” it beamed with delight “N̸_w̸,̷ ̷I̴ ̷k̵n̷o̵w̵ ̵t̵h̶a̶t̴ ̶y̶o̸u̷ ̶l̷o̴v̴e̸ ̵t̵o̵ ̷g̴o̷ ̴a̴g̶_i̶n̸s̸t̵ ̶m̴y̷ ̶n̷a̸r̶r̷_t̸i̶o̷n̵,̸ ̶a̴n̷d̵ ̷a̷s̷ ̷m̵u̶c̷h̵ ̶a̶s̵ ̸I̶ ̸l̵o̷v̸e̴ ̵i̸t̸ ̸w̵h̵_n̶ ̵y̶o̴u̷ ̴a̶r̵e̷ ̸a̶ ̶b̵r̷a̸t̵,̷ ̴I̷ ̸w̸o̶u̷l̵d̵ ̵a̶d̵v̷i̸s̷e̵ ̷y̶o̵u̵ ̸t̴o̴ ̷g̴o̴ ̴t̸h̷r_o̵u̵g̶h̸ ̶t̴h̵e̸ ̶r̵i̶g̸h̵t̵ ̵d̴o̷o̶r̴~̴ ”

A terrified mind raced to find a way out as he slowly stepped forward. He needed to get to the Museum. Shit. Think, think, THI– Ah ha! 

It was awkward to sign with the Bucket but he did it anyway. What if I want to do the Freedom Ending, Narrator? He signed making sure and clear he used its name-sign, the sign for N together with the sign of Story. The entity had never seen it before, he was sure. It was worth a try.

The being made an inquisitive glitched noise “W̵_a̷t̸ ̷w̷a̷s̶ ̸t̵h̷a̸t̴ ̵l̵a̸s̶t̵ ̵s̸i̵g̸n̵,̴ ̴d̵e̴a̴r̸?̴ ̶I̵ ̴h̵a̶_e̴n̵’̷t̶ ̶s̷e̵e̵n̴ ̴i̶t̶ ̷b̷e̷_o̴r̸e̷…̸” good, he got its attention “C̴o̸_l̷d̸ ̷y̷o̴u̶ ̸d̴o̴ ̵i̵t̴ ̴a̴g̷a̴_n̵?̵” so he did “N̸…̵?̴S̷t̴o̸r̷y̵.̴.̶?̷–̵” it gasped, finally getting it “I̶s̸–̶ ̷i̶s̵ ̶t̸h̴a̴t̵ ̵a̷ ̵n̴_m̵e̶-̸s̵i̴g̶n̵?̷!̶ ̸F̷o̵_ ̵m̴e̵?̴!̴ ̷M̷-̷m̴y̷ ̸n̸a̶m̶e̶-̷s̶i̴_n̶?̷” it asked unsure but extremely hopeful and squeaked when Stanely nodded and he couldn’t help but smile at little because, Gods, how cute was its reaction. If it only this was his Narrator.

“O̴h̸,̶ ̴S̷t̴a̸_l̷e̸y̸…̷” the was so much obvious emotion in its voice, the entity was feeling giddy, and he was sure if it had blood it would be blushing furiously, this made the man instantly him feel bad for using something so dear to him to manipulate the only one he loved. The Bucket tried to reassure him that it was necessary, they had to get away. The other will forgive him when it sees reason, they told him. The Narrator giggled dreamily to itself “O̸h̴,̴m̶y̶~̶ ̵H̸o̷w̸-̶h̷_w̵ ̷c̷o̸u̵l̸d̶ ̷I̸ ̵r̸e̶_u̸s̶e̸ ̵t̸h̵a̶t̸ ̷w̴_s̶h̴ ̸a̶f̷t̵e̷r̷ ̶t̸h̶a̶t̵?̵!̴” it exclaimed “I̷ ̵w̵o̴u̶_d̶ ̷b̶e̴ ̴v̶e̴r̸y̸ ̶h̴a̵_p̷y̵ ̷t̶o̸ ̸g̷o̸ ̵t̸h̴r̵_u̸g̵h̷ ̵t̸h̵e̶ ̶F̵r̴e̵_d̷o̵m̶ ̵E̸n̸d̴i̸n̸g̸ ̵w̵i̶t̴h̵ ̶y̴o̶u̸~̴”

Stanley smiled at the defective ceiling, at it. The cleaning-throat sound effect played.

“W̶_e̵n̸,̸ ̸m̶y̸ ̷d̷a̵r̵l̵i��n̴g̴ ̵S̸t̷a̵_l̸e̵y̶,̴ ̷c̵a̴m̴e̸ ̶t̵o̸ ̸a̷ ̷s̷e̷t̵ ̷o̴f̶ ̶t̴w̸o̸ ̴o̵p̶e̷n̴ ̶d̴o̸o̴r̸s̴,̷ ̷h̴e̴ ̶e̶_t̴e̶r̸e̷d̵ ̴t̶h̴e̴ ̷d̸o̸o̶r̵ ̴o̶n̶ ̷h̷i̶s̶ ̷l̶_f̴t̴.̴”

Relief filled the duo as Stanley stepped through the left door.

----

Transcript:

“Okay, Stanley dear. Let’s start this again.”

"Try to follow the script this time, alright, darling?~"

“This is a story of an amazing man named Stanley~”

“ –did every day of every month–”

“So with a smile, he got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.”

“Oh! Someone is eager!~”

“Now, go on, love, to our favorie doors! And,” 

”Don’t forget to follow my every word , we both want for you to get to the surprise, right, Stanley dear?~” 

“Stanley never had coworkers to begin with, the Office was only for him and the Narrator. No one to take from each other.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you? You are so precious to me, my little creation…”

“Without you, how could I exist? Without me, who would you be, uh, my darling?” 

“Mine, mine, mine!”

“When, my darling Stanley, came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his right.” 

“Oh, I know, dear!~ Isn’t this exciting?!~”

“Now, I know that you love to go against my narration, and as much as I love it when you are a brat, I would advise you to go through the right door~ ”

“What was that last sign, dear? I haven’t seen it before…”

“Could you do it again?”

“N…?Story..?–”

“Is– is that a name-sign?! For me?! M-my name-sign?”

“Oh, Stanley…”

“Oh,my~ How-how could I refuse that wish after that?!”

“I would be very happy to go through the Freedom Ending with you~”

“When, my darling Stanley, came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.“

----

Notes:

Hey there, my darlings! (◍>ᴗ<)ﾉｼ

I missed you all too

My life went to shit for some time (and not the shit that makes you inspired, unfortunately) so I had a massive creative block since then

But here I am again, back to you, my dearest. ( ᐢ˙꒳˙ᐢ )

You can thank the DDos attack on ao3 (and consequently it being down) for getting me to return to writing this fic, due to boredom and fear of spiraling from fanfiction abstinence.

A surprise Timekeeper appearance! And the Bucket too! So happy to see them here! More characters to torture~ o(*>ω<*)o

I'm almost finished with Chapter 6's draft as I write these notes, so I hope it will be posted in three weeks or so but as always, no promises.

I never expected this fic to be more than 3 chapters long but now here we are…

Thankfully, I already know how this is going to go and then end! I won't say much to not spoil it for you all (´⊙ω⊙`) but let's say…

It will be for all tastes and hopes~

Thank you for your comments and kudos, you know how much I appreciate them.

You are all my dears and I love y'all! (*´∀`)~

[carbo-ships]

Okay I'm sorry to bug you but I'm so stupid. How are you guys making the yumeship things? Like the background and stuff is there a program y'all are using to get it? I've been trying on my phone and I don't know how y'all get them so perfect looking 😭 please explain it like I'm 5. If that's too much work, feel free to ignore this/delete this no hard feelings I'm just incredibly dumb 🥲😅

No worries at all!

I do it on my computer in my drawing software. If you don't have one, you can probably achieve just about everything that needs doing using this free software:

I'll break it down step by step how I made mine below the cut. there are lots of pictues. i hope this makes sense. we'll be recreating my Aether/Ardis one for this tutorial.

here is what we are going to do today

So step 1 is to download the template

I like using the transparent version because I find it easiest to edit for my purposes, but feel free to use the other ones as well if there's one you prefer. you'll just skip the first couple steps of this tutorial. Open it up in your software. I'm using Paint Tool SAI. It should look like this.

First, I'll drag in the background that I want and put it on a layer underneath the template. It will look something like this (you can also use a flat color, whatever you want)

Now I want to fill in the big boxes so that I can actually read the text, so I'll go back to the template layer and magic wand select the main bit of empty space (blue shows what's selected),

then invert it (there is probably a button for this on your software)

now I'll make another layer under the template and bucket fill what i want to be white

you can color in extra things you want to change the color of on this layer too, or just leave it as-is. I'm going to spruce it up a bit, though.

ok great. now i'm going to change the grey text boxes to be white because the light grey clashes with my pastels. this may not be necessary for yours. you can bucket fill those too on the main template, but I'm going to use what's called a clipping layer on SAI, which basically means that it's a layer that only draws on top of things that already exist in the layer under it (this may or may not exist in the software you're using, but do whatever works for you). so i'm going to make a new clipping layer over the template and color white over all the grey parts.

much better. it's time to cut out where we want our pictures to go. I find it easiest to work when I treat all the boxes like picture frames, kinda like how the ones in the bottom right are. there are other ways to do this, but this is my prefered method. so we're going to go to our template layer and magic wand select everywhere we want a picture to go (once again now highlighted in blue)

and delete those from both our template layer and our white layer. it should look like this now

so now all you do is drag in your pictures so that they're underneath your template, erasing any parts that stick out

and then you just add text and little rectangles and whatnot! (I added mine in a different program because my art software doesn't have a text feature)

I made a couple other adjustments to mine (black circle around the one photo, getting rid of the line at the bottom of the aesthetic trio) by just editing the template layer.

and that's it! all done! does that make sense? i hope that makes sense. if i skipped over anything vital or if that makes no sense, let me know.

[linuxacolyte]

Okay the bathroom post. Just, skip if you don't obsess over household conveniences the way I do.

The door to the toilet was a wooden door, and the door and the sliders were constructed so that the door actually functioned properly regardless of the humidity. I have never seen such black magic. Heck, most of the doors here are hollow and they still can't handle humidity. The toilet door had a cute little window, frosted over, to allow light in. This way you weren't stranded in a dark little room. Not every toilet door had this, but some did. Most toilets I encountered were bidets, and in the hotels they were heated bidets that made gentle water noises when you sat down on them so other people in the next room couldn't hear your business.

The shower/bathtub area had sliding plastic doors. None of those stupid metal rims that always collect soap and pink gunk and hurt when you slip and fall on them. The tracks for the doors had drainage holes in them, to allow any water/soap to drain.

The "shower area" just inside the sliding doors had a nonslip plastic surface. It had a lip around the outside to allow water to drain. There was a plastic bench here that you could use to sit on when you showered, if you chose.

Every set of shower/bath controls we saw looked exactly the same. On the left was the temperature, with 40C clearly marked. On the right, you could pull the knob towards you and it would start filling the tub (or... bucket?) if you pushed the knob away from you it would send water to the shower head. Some of them, if you pushed the knob a little you got a little water pressure, then if you pushed more you got more water pressure.

The shower nozzle had a button on it to turn the water off. The shower nozzle always had two resting places - one up high if you wanted to stand under it, and one in easy reach if you were sitting. It was really convenient to get yourself wet, then soap up, then rinse yourself off, without spraying water everywhere in the meantime.

The bathtub itself may have been heated, I'm not sure. I was sharing with four other people, I did not test that.

There were controls to

ensure there was no fog while you were bathing

dry laundry

dry laundry with extra heat, if it were t-shirts or something

I do not know what the other buttons did

Everything inside the plastic doors? You could quickly rinse it down with some dishsoap. There was no grout, there were no weird seams, there was no metal or ceramic that you had to be careful of. I need this bathroom.

[mithrifer]

Okay so I knew it would happen but out of everything The Narrator could have been portrayed as the fandom picking a white man with glasses was honestly the laziest choice. Like come on. I know humanizing and pretty boy-ifying (thankfully we seem to have skipped that one) male characters is classic tumblr culture but you can be pretty and sexy and epic and interesting without looking like. y'know.

bill gates.

(...I daresay even moreso than if you did.)

This is a character in charge of a whole world. He could be anything.

He could be a machine, a robot, a cluster of shapes and colors, a yellow line, a cluster of yellow lines, a gigantic button, an even bigger bucket or if you want to anthromorphise any and all of these you can, turn these suggestions (or anything else!) into objectheads, give them limbs, et cetera. There is just so much potential.

Maybe you'll want to "stick to canon" per se, and keep him as an ethereal voice with no physicality! Imagine the implications of that: he can never meet Stanley in person as they'll have always been in person, it's just that Narrator doesn't have a body! They can't ever hug or look at each other, so they'll have to connect the way they do it in the game. How will that affect Stanley? What does Narrator feel about the way he is?

Or if you made him some sort of machine or robot, what if he gets broken? What will happen to the narration and the world in that case? If Stanley finds him, and fixes him, what will they do after?

I know I've thought a lot about all the possibilities myself. The closest I've really seen to portrayals like these was the odd fanart here and there plus The Narrator turning into a human *from* the ethereal voice he was then trying to get used to his new body. Pretty nice, but frankly not enough for me.

Just my two cents on him, 'cause I love him and want the best for him. LMK if you agree or just what you think in general.

[queenburd]

thoughts on the figurines? not just the ending itself but also the process of collecting and everything.

so i have two weird, conflicting POVs on the figurines in general.

There's the setup where you're not actually Stanley, so Stanley has no context for the figurines when he finds them in the epilogue, in the broken down Memory Zone. They fill him with confusion as well as agonizing loss, because the Narrator was doing things and making things while Stanley was frozen, things clearly for Stanley and to remind him of Stanley. And then, confusion, because the figurine counter is not at 0, or even 6. It's much more. he has no idea why.

And later when he can visit the expo, the figurine exhibit is closed. "You've already been here." It.... fills him with a foreboding that he can't place up until the achievement machine. Something he didn't understand when he saw words on a dark screen in a dark office.

He's missing something, and he doesn't know what, and that frightens him.

and THEN there's the other setup, which is what I think I would write for "you, and me, and this thing called eternity". here's a copy/paste of what I wrote on discord an age ago:

narrator was alone with skip for a long, long long time he tried to find ways to pass time. made idea like tsp2, bucket. figurines. he didnt pretend to know what would be stanleys reaction but he did imagine what he would do and say when stanley got a figurine. when he got them all. he thought about it a lot. he was at that point in the skip starting to spiral "you got them all!" "oh..... stanley getting all the figurines...." fixates starting to go mad. thinks about when stanley would get the figurines. wasnt that special? started to lose track of the reality of things, that this was just a fantasy ("he forgets which life is the real one"-apartment ending) "let's do it again! let's go back and get them all backwards!!!" "what came before? what came before them?" and he overlooks the other memory zone things and TSP2 stuff to go back to the New Content, then two doors, then office. ("And I'm trying to tell him this! that as long as he keeps doing this, he can never be anything more than an observer.") he decides, because hes really deteriorated at this point, that he must have made stanley up. must have made up a character to keep him company. he must have. stanley's not real, if he was real he'd be talking to him, right?

but it was so fun to play with stanley...... we're in the memory zone, arent we? let's play again..... and the end was never the end was never the end was "never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end" so. when the game resets. a lot of the stuff he made to kill time was saved! tsp2 was there. figurines were there! all his dialogue for the skip button. all his ideas. all his ideas. so when stanley finally gets all the figurines, he's witness to what went on in the Narrator's mind for all of it. after they finally reset from completing the figurine ending he's freaked

and the Narrator feels very very apologetic and you see, he doesnt feel that way now! it was just--it was all saved from when he was trapped in the skip. another way the parable tried to make conflict between them using his own insanity that he was brought to midpunishment, to hurt them both some more so yeah. they did talk about it and they worked past it. bc its not a thing the narrator actually feels when stanley GETS the figurines, hes just forced to relive it they had a pause immediately after that run ended. talked it out. narrator closed the figurines exhibit to make sure it didnt happen again.

I know that's more about the ending than the process. the truth is Stanley finds them entertaining, and silly, at first, but as the process continues something about them feels a little weird. something about the Narrator feels a little weird. Maybe the Narrator feels weird about THEM.

but neither of them can really place it. so they just go through it without really bringing it up. Stanley collects the figurines when he sees them, he thinks the Committee is a fun little clue from the Narrator and more interesting than the usual meeting room setup.

[gabe-gade]

This is a very sad story about the immortal man named Stanley.

Click to Skip

Stanley was quite a boring fellow. He had a job that demanded nothing of him, and every button he pushed was a reminder of the inconsequential nature of his existence.

But Stanley simply couldn't handle the pressure.

But look at him now. A star. Featured in his very own game. Now, he's taking down a mind-control machine. Now, he's holding a press conference. Now, he's following a Line™. Now, he's learning about good decision making. One might even be happy for him, except that he's not happy himself.

Stanley, did you just unplug the phone?

But in his mind, hm. In his mind, he can remember his old life. After every end, Stanley dreamed of waking up. A return to his normal life, however boring it may be. Waking, working, eating, and living all the once more. It was wonderful. And every time that he returned inside his office was a reminder that he was stuck here.

And then she turned and ran.

And so he began to hunt for his ending. He turned ON the mind control machine. He climbed every ledge his feeble legs would allow, and he threw himself OFF every ledge the barriers would allow. He held the bucket in his arms, he clutched it tightly to his chest, and he let the perfect bucket die many times. Did the bucket still give him comfort? Stanley could no longer tell.

This was way too much for Stanley.

He went further. He turned the machine ON many times and tried every combination he was possibly able to memorize without a pen. He walked through the RED door the first, second, third time he was asked, and returned to the Narrator's happy place after his first, second, and third fall. He killed the bucket by himself on multiple occasions, or could he have an infinite number of times by now.

And Stanley died again.

As he wandered through this purgatory, labyrinth, or even silly prank, the Narrator followed his near every move. Down the left he wouldn't acknowledge Stanley, most of the time at least, down the right he barked orders at him and berated his every being, that is if he wasn't entirely confused himself. And the Narrator called Stanley's hell: The Stanley Parable.

Welcome Stanley, to heaven.

It was harrowing for him. The Narrator seemingly never remembered anything that happened before (or was it after?) Stanley found an ending. And so sometimes, Stanley would play along and be nice. He gazed at beautiful lights for an eternity. He spent his life viewing silly birds. He played a game with a baby, not for four hours, but an endless amount of years. But every time the Narrator could be happy, Stanley also made him suffer. He's skipped through time, tried to cheat, tried to escape without him, and spent innumerable days inside a broom closet.

"But where are the jokes? Where are the jokes?" they bemoaned, they screamed.

But there is an answer. One I've also told Stanley time and time again. In reality, neither of them could possibly ever escape this place. Nothing will change. The longer he spends here, the more inhuman he'll become, the more he'll forget why and how he craved this game in the first place.

Perhaps his goal had not to been to understand, but to let go.

And I've told him this. That in this world he can never be more than his written story. That as long as he's unwilling to escape, he's torturing the Narrator and himself. But he's never listened to me. He won't stop. Here, watch this. Stanley, the next time you return to this place, listen, and turn off the game.

Take as much time as you need.

Yet I've seen him hundreds of times before, and in all likelihood, millions after. There is no saving him. The Narrator will be forever doomed under Stanley's adamancy. Neither will ever be free.

Who fixed it? Is someone here? Are we being watched?

I suppose I can never convince him, not in the way he needs. But I still see them. The Narrator playing his role in the story and Stanley attempting to go off the beaten path. I catch myself wondering sometimes if I even disagree with Stanley.

"Farewell Stanley," cried the Narrator, as Stanley was led helplessly into the enormous metal jaws.

He's visited me and heard me and denied me many over. But it's for both their sake I continue. To get him to just listen. Perhaps, well . . . maybe this time he'll see.

Oh, look at these two.

And Stanley returned, and I tried again.

And Stanley returned, and I tried again.

And Stanley re-

All of his co-workers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had simply missed a memo.

[atangledfate]

The long dark halls of the sewers spread out before the violet feline, as he walked with a skip and a jump. He hummed softly as he made his way down the underbelly of the deep dark sewers! His hands behind his back and whistling softly a merry tune despite the rank place he found himself in. Turning a bend he placed his hand on the wall finding the little keypad and pressing a few buttons. The wall slid away and the feline made his way inside. He made sure to close the door behind him as his tail swished from side to side in a joyful manner.

" Hey Kiddo!--- still breathing down here? "

He grinned at the figure chained to the wall

" Gee Golly! i'm glad! who knows..."

The felines body shifted and changed, growing long tentacles, blackened eyes, and a beak on his face. Like a horrific mutation of the Felines visage, the Octopus reassumed his normal face. He did need to relax in his true form for a time, as sustaining his shape for long periods was like flexing a muscle constantly.

" I might still need you ...Chaos forbid i don't--- then you really would be in trouble wouldn't you..."

The Darkened figure on the floor sniffed and curled his arms around his legs. His face turning so the light shown upon his feline features. The violet cat looking terrified up at his captore. He shook from head to toe, his fur ragged and dirty, as many wounds marred his body. his clothes torn and, damaged from his rough treatment.

" Please! let me go! i ...i don't know what you want! i don't have any rings... my family isn't wealthy! i don't ... i don't know what you want! i just want to go home! "

The feline practically burst into tears! He didn't know what he ever did to deserve this kind of treatment. Battered, Bruised, Damaged, and interrogated again and again! Yet he pleaded with him over and over again! He just didn't want to die! he'd do what ever he asked but he didn't want this place to be his grave!

" Oh... no i can't do that... not yet... first ..."

He leaned toward the feline as shadows covered his face, giving him a menacing appearance.

" Let's talk about home... family... your sweet childhood... "

Mimic brandished a bucket, a cloth, and set them down next to the feline. He knelt down closer to him and had such a wide brimmed grin on his beak! as if playing with a puppy he was about to kick once more!

" I want to know you... better then you know yourself... let's get started shall we? "

[activate-shadow-of-the-window]

Catching up time!

-

Hermittober Day 19 (Late): Water

-

Helsknight positively hated the snow.

Why he’d agreed to set up shop here, he honestly didn’t know. But E had been insistent, all the more so because of Zedaph’s knowledge of the place, so he’d acquiesced. At least the Ways didn’t connect to it directly, so no wanderers could get in without them knowing. It did mean trudging through a mile or so of thick, dense snow, however, which set Hels to cursing as much as the frigid temperature allowed him to.

“All of this End-forsaken Nether-born frozen water can kick! The! Bucket! I am so glad that we don’t have to do this anymore after today! Argh!”

E chuckled as the armor-covered figure of their partner-in-crime attempted to kick the snow, only for his heavy metal boot to get stuck. “I thought you’d learned your lesson after last time, Hels. The snow doesn’t care about anything you say. Come on, we’ve gotta make it back before sunset.”

As both continued to hike onwards, the fabric-wrapped figure of Zedaph waved at them from behind a tree. “This way, guys! The old path is still here, exactly where I remembered it!”

Hels stared after the sheep-folk in wonderment as he skipped effortlessly from boulder to boulder, fallen tree to fallen tree. “How in End’s name does he do that?”

E just shook their head. “No matter. We can’t.”

As the party of three continued up the mountainside, none of their number noticed anything amiss. The snow around Lumbar was constantly falling and being replenished, so any tracks, be they goat or human, would have been erased. None of the bushes on the overgrown path were smashed or had any of their numerous berries picked, and none of E’s telltales were disturbed either. None of them saw the tiny tendrils hung between the branches either, or the nest of three parrot-folk and one humming machine in the middle of one of the tallest spruce trees.

Upon reaching the shuttered door of the Facility, Hels felt around and pressed the hidden button. Zedaph was giddy as the door slowly clanked open.

“Oh, baby! You’re still working! I-I was so worried, but you’ve clearly been taken care of!”

His hooves clacked loudly ahead of both E and Hels as he dashed inside, unknowingly tripping the first, second, and third stages of Plant’s system. As the other two followed, each noted that a few bricks seemed to have shifted a bit in their places. But they were held down by gravity, nor mortar, and so that was expected.

What was not expected was the trio of arrows that flew from within the facility. One sunk into E’s unprotected left elbow, and the other two clanged off of Hels’ armor. Zedaph was unharmed.

The darkly-armored knight drew his great sword with a shout. “Who’s there! Announce yourself, interlopers!”

A single voice returned the call. “No thanks!”

Zedaph, prone on the floor where he had fallen to dodge the shots, lifted his head a fraction. “Uh, what was that!?!”

E, clutching their left elbow, quickly staggered behind Hels’ armored form. “Advance slowly. Real slowly. If anyone comes close, I got your back.”

“Rodger.”

As the two crept foreword and reached Zedaph, the sheep quickly leapt to his feet and produced a blowgun and short arquebus. He began loading both mechanically, despite the rest of his body shaking something awful.

Without warning, more arrows streaked down the hall, four this time. One seemed to glow and leave behind a trail of light as it flew, striking Hels clean on the helmet. As it made contact, the knight’s armor began to glow. The other three arrows clanged against the wall, doing no damage but forcing the three into a single file line.

“Blasted Nether’s fire! Spectral arrows! They’re making us easy targets!”

Hels continued to curse as he began to sprint down the hall, the others in hot pursuit. Zedaph loosed a few darts, but they sailed off into the darkness without hitting anything. Eventually, E stuck out an arm and hit the lever that should have turned on the lights, but as they flickered on, barely anything was illuminated. Looking at the lamps, they saw that something was covering them, something that looked like veins and mushrooms.

Realization soon dawned behind their mask. “Sculk! The sculk is free!”

As soon as he shouted that, a figure jumped out from the nearest room connected to the main hall. Hels saw a flash of wings, but couldn’t register anything else before he had to bring up his great sword to meet the duel-wielding bird’s pair of blades. Claws scrabbled against the floor as the grey-and-gold parrot attempted to push the massive sword down, but they soon gave up and dove back into the room. Hels attempted to follow, but something tugged at his helmet’s plume, hard enough to yank his head backwards.

Whipping around, Hels came face to face with something’s wide teal eyes. He quickly noted the glasses, pointed ears, bared teeth, and messy black hair, coming to a rather surprising, and extremely troubling, conclusion.

“Cub Fan Voidstars?!?”

The bared teeth became a proper grin. “Yes. Sorry, we lied. Partially yes.”

[mars-ipan]

LAST MINUTE STANNARRATOR PROPAGANDA BECAUSE PLEASE I AM DESPERATE (spoilers below):

hiiii i did propaganda for these two once (insult compilation) and i’m doing more because i am Not Normal about these two.

i’m gonna start this off with a little scenario i’d like you to imagine yourself in. you are trapped in a cramped place with someone. you want to do things your way, they want to do things their way. you are almost never able to compromise, and never for long. it feels like things rarely ever go the way you want. regardless, they’re insufferable. when you’re in control of what happens, they pout and act like a schoolchild. when they’re in control, they lord it over you. sometimes they do things seemingly just to hurt you, like they get some sick joy out of making you upset. of course, you strike back your own fair share of times- it’s only fair to take an eye for an eye, right? you never talk about hurting each other, but you know. regardless, you’re stuck together. so you try to get along, at least somewhat.

you hate them. you want nothing more than to be rid of them.

you need them. without them you’d be completely alone in here, and you both know there’s nothing more terrifying than being truly alone. you might die without them- worse, you might not.

you love them, maybe.

this is how stanley and the narrator each feel about each other. this isn’t much of an exaggeration, either- yes, the game is a comedy, yes one is just a voice and the other is just a vessel, but if you look close at both the narrator’s voice lines and the patterns in which people play the game you can find this dynamic pretty easily.

the entire game is a power struggle between you and the narrator, and whether or not you get along varies incredibly wildly. sometimes the narrator speaks to you like an old friend, sometimes he curses the day you were born. he’s always very petty and snarky, and players are too.

oh, and just for the record: the narrator kills you a total of 5 times, not including bucket ending variants (if i’m remembering properly). you die to spite him once and also maybe accidentally kill him once? it’s vague

some of my fav divorced bits (from memory) include:

all of the narrator’s previously mentioned insults (some of the most divorced being “i was in the middle of something- do you have zero consideration for others”, “you’re a child”, “it must be so simple to be you”, and “who’d want to dedicate their life to you?”)

the broom closet that you can enter and spend time in JUST to piss off the narrator there is literally nothing else for you there it’s the best

the narrator giving you a bucket and then immediately regretting that decision as he quickly becomes incredibly jealous of the tight-knit relationship between you and the bucket (which is, i cannot stress enough, literally just a metal bucket that he gave you as a comfort item). he then blames you for being friends with the bucket and tries to destroy it (he fails <3)

the line “i’ve had time to think about you, and about me, and about us” in the skip button ending and the similar “plenty of time to talk about you, and about us” in the countdown ending

the INCREDIBLY tiny easter eggs of the narrator having a tab with a search for “stanley kissing” open in a trailer for the ultra deluxe version of the game and “nude stanley” on an in-game piece of paper showing a list of ideas for the stanley parable 2. these make me laugh every time i remember them

the ending where the narrator gives you a wife and then immediately shows you she’s fake and he made her up to prank you because he knew it’d make you mad

if you go against every direction he gives you the narrator just says “fine fuck it we’ll play some other game then if you hate this one so much.” in the original you play minecraft (he builds a shitty little dirt hut <3) and then portal and in the remaster you play firewatch and then rocket league (you do not have a car)

in the museum ending the female narrator (referred to in fanon as the curator) gives the INCREDIBLE line of “how they wish to control one another. how they wish to destroy one another. how they both wish to be free”

while in the new content segment of the game the narrator will create a vent to a place and say he wants to show you something. if you ignore it to go to a different ending he calls you a dork in a bitter “whatever i didn’t even care way.” if you then return he goes “oh! i guess you’re not a dork”

while the narrator is taking you through the Memory Zone (nostalgia lair for the 2013 game) he speaks to you like an old friend and a french song starts playing. the song is about the memory zone, calls stanley and the narrator “the two ghosts”, and regularly addresses a “my love.” this asshole wrote a love song IN FRENCH and it’s all wistful and “how i miss the way things were” MOTHERFUCKER. here’s the lyrics if you wanna read them yourself

as has been mentioned on every poll of theirs so far the lead writer of tsp has described the narrator as “the platonic ideal of divorce” and he’s 100% correct. so

tweets from the crowsx3 twitter account and also kevan brighting (the narrator’s va). kevan’s tweets in particular horrify me a little bit but they’re good

IN CONCLUSION: please

Quarter Finals: Quodo (DSN) vs Stanarrator (TSP)