#someone more. he wants to be free but he can't. he's stuck here with stanley

[everysongineverykey]

the narrator's google search history must be like. how to tell when humans are mad. how to tell when humans are happy. most common human emotions. can you edit steam reviews. 100 most serious tables home depot. fun buttons for humans to push. what does a hug feel like. human expressions. the stanley parable game of the year. the stanley parable 2022 awards nominations? what does rain feel like on skin. what does sunlight feel like on skin. forest cabin. nostalgic french music for forest cabin. are forest cabins good for romantic getaways. difference in feeling between warm and cold. minecraft free download. portal free download. friendship free download? firewatch free download. humans dancing. humans singing. how far a fall will kill a human? how to negotiate with humans. are all humans annoyingly stubborn. what makes a human human? loving wife voice filter. requirements for happiness. (stanley kissing.) guitar tutorial easy. guitar music through history. how do i make humans like me. how to deal with feelings for buckets. how to deal with feelings for stanley. will i ever be free.

[skinks]

i can't remember if it was one of your posts or someone else's where the losers all grew their foreskins back and running to the bathroom to check but it's been living rent free in my head and all i can think of is them all whipping it out being like wtf and then someone (eddie) looks over and is like "holy fuck rich why is your dick so massive literally who gave you the right" and then eddie has a little internal crisis of 'if i wasn't gay b4 i am now'

YEAAAH LMAO THAT WAS ME thank you and also sorry it’s stuck in your head, it’s such a dumb idea but it still makes me laugh.

If the Derry Magic™ canonically reverses Richie’s vasectomy and heals their scars etc. I think it’d be a cool concept if it started to heal... well, everything, once they’re back inside city limits. I’m actually writing a weird ficlet about that idea that’s currently sitting half-baked in my drafts, but back to Foreskins 2: 2Old 4Skin

All the Losers with dicks (aside from Mike since he never left Derry) start shifting in their seats at the Jade and looking down at their laps, alarmed. Given the time period and the fact that it’s... the USA, I’m guessing most of them would be circumcised, so I can only imagine how unusual it would be to feel yourself regrowing a turtleneck. 

But Joe, I hear you cry, if they were circumcised as newborns why is it only growing back now instead of in the <18 years they were in Derry the first place? And if they’re all circumcised why are Bill/Richie/Eddie all so amused at the prospect of Stanley having “the tip of his dick” chopped off at the start of It (2017)?

What do I look like, someone who’s gonna let conflicting meta get in the way of my own conflicting foreskin headcanons? Get outta here!

Anyway, eventually it all gets too weird. Ben can feel a faint pinching that he, quite honestly, hates. They blurt some excuse to Beverly and make a mad dash for the bathroom, trying not to clutch the fronts of their pants like Richie made one joke too funny and there was a collective accident. A Titanic situation. Richie’s trying to think of a joke about this on the move but to be honest his dick feels like it’s growing or something, and ironically he can’t think of a goddamn thing to say.

They’re all waddling. Mike sighs and stands to follow them. “I thought this might happen.”

“Are you guys gonna have some No Girls Allowed meeting without me? Rich and Eddie were already doing enough dick measuring out here, this is bullshit,” Bev says, but Mike is gone. She drinks his beer as revenge.

Any and all dick measuring is happening purely on a visual level, amongst all the panicking and whisper-yelling (whisper-screaming) and vaguely horrified examination going on in the bathroom. Eddie’s had a little too much to drink to stop himself from whisper-hissing his outrage at the size of Richie’s big fucking dick (at least, he thinks later, his stunned disbelief covered his outrage at the fact that Richie wouldn’t even look at Eddie’s dick back, not even to make light of the size difference, the disappointment surrounding it something he’s not yet willing to face.)

When things fail to calm down and they’ve driven 3 other restaurant patrons right out of the bathroom and Mike has been whisper-shouted at four separate times and bullied into showing his own dick, Bill finally puts on his Big Bill Leader Hat and tries to see reason. It’s with a strange sinking feeling that he realises Mike was simply waiting for him to do so, from the pleased smile on his tired face. 

Bill’s not sure he’s looking forward to any situation that might mean he has to lead these strangers again. They’re not kids anymore. Look at their dicks! But this, at least, he can manage. “Wait, shut up - R-Richie shut up, stop pulling at it! This might not all be so b-bad, y’know? Audra - I mean, I h-heard. I read they’re... t-they can make sex, uh. Better. Way better. Easier, for everyone. That’s something, at least? Right?” He looks around, a little desperately.

It takes a few tries for Ben to zip his jeans back up with shaking hands. Eddie looks like he’s about to cry. Mike is beaming around, proudly, at everyone’s newly-cozy dicks.

“That’s fucking fantastic,” Richie says, waving his dick angrily at Bill. It’s a lot more arresting than shaking a finger, Bill will admit. “Just great, Billy - ignoring the completely insane fact that all four of us just spontaneously grew ourselves some fancy little dicksleeves outta nowhere like - Jesus Christ, what is this, the Chinese place from Freaky Friday? Did those fortune cookies swap us into exact copies of our own bodies, hold the mayo, extra pastrami? Do I look like either Jamie Lee Curtis or Lindsay fucking Lohan to you? Did Lindsay fucking Lohan grow a dick like this in that movie?”

“I don’t think anyone has a dick like that,” Eddie mumbles.

“I didn’t see that movie,” Bill says.

“That’s not the point,” Richie says. His dick waves in his fist like a sign language interpreter at the bottom of the screen helping Richie to deliver his tirade. The mirror spans the wall over the sinks, so even when Bill tries to avert his eyes he still fears having them poked out. He stares up at the water-stained ceiling tiles instead. “The point is, you want us all to be cool as cucumbers with little fucking scarves about this totally fucked up, creepy, Cronenberg bullshit because your wife fucked a British dude one time and told you to your face that it was better?!”

Bill frowns, raising his hands. “Well. I d-don’t think that’s w-w-what-”

“Do I seem,” Richie continues, looking extremely frazzled, “like someone confident enough in his sex life that re-learning the ropes at 40 fucking years old is gonna be a piece of cake?! Jesus Christ! I don’t know what to do with this thing!” Another man pushes open the bathroom door, takes one look at them, and walks straight back out. Richie curses under his breath and zips up too, Eddie following his lead, until Bill is the only one standing there with his dick out. 

Something about the situation feels vaguely familiar, Bill thinks, with a phantom ache in his cheekbone. 

Richie flails with the pockets of his jacket. “Zero times foreskin is still zero, Bill!”

With that and without washing his hands, Richie stomps out of the bathroom, head ducked, the back of his neck bright pink. Eddie hastily finishes washing his own hands and scurries after him, seething again. “I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

[thelastspeecher]

For the prompt, how about the werevamp au where Stan and Angie celebrate Chistmas together since Angie can't exactly go home to her family to celebrate, but also it's also Stan's first actual Christmas

I wanted to include something at the end about Angie asking Stan when Jewish holidays are so they can celebrate them together, too, but I liked it ending like this.  So here, have Stangie celebrating Christmas in a cheap motel room with a sad Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

              Stan wokeup freezing.  Without opening his eyes hereached out for Angie.  His hands brushedagainst blankets, but not Angie’s warm body. He opened his eyes.  He was alonein the bed.

              “Angie?”he asked.

              “I’m overhere, darlin’,” a soft voice said.  Stansat up with a groan.  He lookedover.  Angie was crouched on the sill ofthe only window in the cheap motel room, staring outside with a distantexpression.

              “What’swrong?”

              “Nothin’.  It’s just…” Angie sighed.  “I can’t believe it’sChristmas Eve.”

              “Oh,yeah.  It is.”  Stan got up from the bed and walked over tohis girlfriend.  “Merry Christmas,” hesaid, putting a hand on her shoulder. Angie sighed again.  “Babe,somethin’s wrong.  What is it?”

              “I can’tremember any of my fam’ly’s holiday traditions,” Angie said after a moment.  “I- I know we had ‘em.  I have this- this vague memory of warmfeelin’s and comfort.  A full stomach.  But I can’t remember anyone involved, or whatexactly we were doin’, and-”  Sheswallowed.  “What sort of Christmastraditions does yer fam’ly have?”

              “Uh,none,” Stan said.  Angie stared athim.  “I’m Jewish.”

              “…Oh.”  Angie’s mouth quirked in a small grin.  “Didn’t know there were Jewish vampires.”

              “Didn’tknow there were Christian werewolves.”

              “Touche.”  Angie looked out the window again.  She wrapped her arms around herself.  “I just- I want to celebrate with my fam’ly.”

              “Youmight not be able to celebrate with them, but you’ve got me,” Stan said.  Angie managed a small, weak smile.  “Whattaya wanna do?”

              “Gocaroling.”

              “Uhh…”

              “I’mkidding,” Angie said, nudging him.  “But jokin’aside, it might be nice to get a tree.”

              “It’sChristmas Eve.”

              “Mm-hmm.”

              “You dorealize that if we manage to find a tree, it’s gonna be one of those shittyCharlie Brown ones, right?”

              “It’sstill a tree.”

              “Yeah.  Okay. Lemme get dressed.”  Stan walkedover to the chair he had tossed his clothes onto the day before.  He picked up his shirt and sniffed itidly.  “Did your family go to church onChristmas Eve?  My high school girlfriend’sfamily did.”

              “I haveamnesia, I don’t-”  Angie paused.  “No, wait. I do remember.  Yes. We did.”

              “So youguys were like, Christian Christians.”  Deciding the shirt didn’t smell too bad, Stanslipped it on.  “I shoulda figured.”

              “How couldya have figured it out?  I didn’t realizeI grew up goin’ to church until ya just asked me.”

              “A fewthings.”  Stan tugged on a pair of pants.  “You never say ‘God’, you say ‘Lord’ or ‘goodness’.  You corrected a Bible quote we saw the otherday.  And whenever we’re around jewelry,you go right for the crucifix necklaces.”

              “Huh.  Yer right, there were a lot of ways to figureit out,” Angie said softly.  Stan turnedaround.  “Why are ya wearin’ thoseclothes again?” Angie asked.

              “They don’tsmell.”

              “Not toyou,” Angie muttered.  She got down fromthe windowsill.  “A few things are comin’back to me.”

              “Yeah?”

              “Yeah.”  Angie furrowed her brow.  “When we went to the Christmas Eve service,my older brother would always fall asleep. And my- my older sister…  We hadto dress up, so she’d braid my hair fer me.”

              “You havea brother and sister?”

              “…Iguess.”

              “Do youremember their names?” Stan asked.  Angieshook her head.  “You’ll remembereventually.”  Stan shrugged on hisjacket.  “What’s the flavor ofChristianity your family practices?  Newand Improved or Classic?”  Angie staredat him, bemused.

              “Wh-which branch of Christianity is which?”

              “Catholicsare Classic, and the other one is New and Improved.”

              “Hon, that’snot-”  Angie shook her head.  “Okay, well, Classic.”

              “You’reCatholic?”

              “Yep.”  Angie frowned, thinking.  “I remember vaguely learnin’ prayers thatweren’t in English.”

              “Latin?”

              “No…”  Angie shook her head again.  “I could almost hear one of ‘em, but it’sgone.”  She looked up.  “Let’s go get us a tree.”

----- 

              Stan dugthrough the grocery bag.  Angie hadinsisted that they not steal on Christmas Eve, but he wanted to make sure thatshe didn’t see the one item he had surreptitiously pocketed at the store.

              “Youreally should shower,” Angie said.  Shewas decorating the tree they had found at the lot.  It looked exactly as Stan had warned:scraggly, tiny, and losing needles with every jostle.  Angie carefully draped a cheap garland overthe tree’s branches.

              “I showeredyesterday.”

              “Youshowered three days ago.”  Angie lookedat Stan.  “I love ya to bits, but I havea wolf’s nose, Stanley Pines.  If ya goone more day without takin’ a shower, I will hose ya down myself.”

              “Don’t offersomething if you don’t plan on following through.”

              “Itwouldn’t be sexy,” Angie warned.  Stansnorted.

              “That’swhat you think.”

              “No, Imean it.  Think less ‘we are bothunclothed and there are soap bubbles everywhere’ and more ‘I am fully clothed,holding you down while I hold the shower directly over yer head like I’m givin’a dog a bath’.”

              “…Could stillbe sexy.”

              “Lord,yer insufferable.”

              “You knowit, babe.”  Stan found the small box hewas looking for, slipped it into his back pocket, and kissed the top of Angie’shead.  She swatted him playfully.  “When do we put up our socks for free candy?”

              “Afteryou shower.”

              “Fine,fine.”  Stan strode into the bathroom,whistling.  He paused before closing thedoor.  “Hang on.”

              “Stan, Imean it, I can’t deal with yer stink much lon-”

              “Did youjust say you loved me?” Stan asked. Angie stilled.  “If you did, I’d-”

              “Justshower,” Angie said in a small voice.  “Please.”

----- 

              Tenminutes later, Stan opened the bathroom door to let the steam out while hefinished toweling off.  He paused.  Someone was singing.

              “O, holynight, the stars are brightly shining…” Stan stuck his head out.  Angiewas sitting in front of the tiny tree, her eyes closed, singing.  A small smile began to spread across Stan’sface.

              I don’t get to hear her sing very often.  He cleared his throat.  Angie looked over, startled.

              “That wasnice.”

              “…Thanks,”Angie mumbled, her face pink.  She duckedher head.  “And thank you fer showerin’.”

              “Eh, Iwoulda had to shower soon anyways, if I wanted to maintain my impeccablehairstyle,” Stan said, gesturing to his mullet. Angie snorted.  “You should singmore.”

              “I don’tknow.  I feel so strange singin’ in frontof people,” Angie said quietly.  Stanwalked over, only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.  He sat on the floor next to her.

              “I’m ahomeless vampire.  Pretty sure I don’tcount as people.”

              “Nah, youdo.”  Angie leaned against him.  “By the way, earlier, when I said I loved you…”

              “Yeah?”

              “I meantit.”  Like her, Angie’s voice was soft,but full of warmth.  “And it ain’t someStockholm Syndrome thing, neither.  You-yer a good man, and you challenge me and take care of me and-”  Angie kissed Stan on the cheek.  “I can’t think of anything else to describemy feelings fer you.”

              “Not justreally good friends?”

              “No,Stan.  I love you.”  Angie’s eyes caught his determinedly.  “I mean it.” Stan stared back at her silently, at a loss for words.  Finally, he cleared his throat.

              “Okay,uh, yeah, uh, I guess, uh-”  He clearedhis throat again.  “I’ve got somethingfor- uh-”  He rushed back to thebathroom.

              Dumbass, why’d you put it in your pantspocket if you were gonna take your pants off right away?  Stan dug hurriedly through his pile of clothes.  Ha!  He grabbed the small box from earlier andreturned to where Angie was sitting. Angie cocked her head at him curiously.

              “What’sgoin’ on?”

              “Here.”  Stan handed her the box.  Angie shot another confused glance in hisdirection before turning her attention to the box.  She slowly opened it.

              “Oh.”

              That’s it?  An “oh”?

              “You hateit,” Stan said, dejected.

              “No,”Angie said.  She removed the necklacefrom the box.  “No, Stan, I love it.”  She let the chain of the necklace slipthrough her fingers to admire the crescent-shaped charm.  “A lil moon.”

              “‘Causeyou’re a werewolf.”  Stan rubbed the backof his neck.  “Girls like sparkly things,and you always get excited when we go to a store with jewelry, and you don’thave any jewelry, so I figured-”

              “This iswonderful,” Angie said softly.

              “It’s nota cross, though.  You always look at thecrosses.”  Stan scratched his cheek.  “I’m allergic to religious shit, so that’swhy I didn’t get the cross, but it’s still not-”

              “Shut yeryap and help me put this on, would ya?” Angie interrupted.  Stan grinned. Angie handed him the necklace and turned around.  Stan carefully clasped the chain.  Angie turned around again.  The necklace sparkled on her sweater.  “Does it suit me?”

              “Babe,everything suits you,” Stan said earnestly. Angie laughed.

              “Stan,this was a wonderful Christmas present. Thank you.”  Her eyestwinkled.  “I actually got you somethin’,too.”

              “Really?”

              “Mm-hmm.”  Angie nodded at the tree.  A box was resting underneath it.  “Go ahead. Open it.”  Stan eagerly ripped thebox open.  His eyes widened.  “I saw you lookin’ at those watches.”

              “Oh,hell, yes,” Stan breathed.  He slid thewatch onto his wrist.  “Now my wristlooks way classier than the rest of me. It’s perfect.”  Angiechuckled.  “How did you afford this?”

              “…I didn’t.”

              “Ithought you said you didn’t wanna steal on Jesus’ birthday.”

              “Hisbirthday’s tomorrow.  Not today.”

              “Myhabits are rubbing off on you.”

              “Yep.”

              “Probablynot a good thing.”

              “Fer ahomeless vampire and werewolf, I think it’s perfectly fine.”  Angie leaned in and kissed Stan on thelips.  “Merry Christmas.”

              “MerryChristmas.”