The Narrator - Blog Posts

CHAPTER 2 OF MY SOAPSHIPPING FIC JUST DROPPEDDDD

first of all TYSM FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT ON THIS I LOVE U GUYS 🫶🫶 and also I'm sorry this took so long I just procrastinate a lot sooo yeah I'll try to be quicker with chapter 3 tho anyways ENJOYYY

My very first fanfic just dropped‼️

It's not like groundbreakingly good (not even half decent) but i hope other soapshiping mfs will like it 🙏

First rule of fight club is you have to kiss your homies goodnight

(Not that good but i had to draw them cuz they consume my every thought)

FIGHT CLUB 4/19/25

Sketches i have of these two :)

+Moment from AI chat where Narrator took me to space :D

+Marriella and Curator :}

hope im not late to drawing this silly lil guy in his silly lil outfit,,

also @marsalta you're a life saver, the brown lineart makes it come together so nicely :O

(was also inspired to give my narrator the narritties heheheh)

*narrator voice* Stanley? Stanley what are you doing? Stanley? Oh. Oh my god. He is witerawwy hitting the gwiddy right now

Some bracelets I made and a WIP of narrator from fight club

Soap sellers 🧼

Anakin : Don't worry admiral, I know what I am doing

Narrator/Yularen : He did not know what he was doing

Narrator : Stanley, are you drinking hydrogen peroxide?!

Stanley : It says H2O2! That means it’s the sequel to water!

Stanley: Which is correct, 7 and 5 IS thirteen, or 7 and 5 ARE thirteen?

Narrator: Neither

Narrator: Because it's twelve

Stanley: I made tea

Narrator: I don't want tea

Stanley: I did not make tea for you. This is my tea

Narrator: Then why are you telling me?

Stanley: It's a conversation starter

Narrator: That's a lousy conversation starter

Stanley: Oh is it? We are conversing. Checkmate

RIP Bob you would have loved top gun: maverick

Inflamed Sense of Rejection: Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~ Author's Note: This is that Angel Face backstory I was talking about. His name is Caleb Handover because I'm not going to call him Angel Face the whole time. There will be no "spice" because I type this on a school computer and honestly I want to expand my writing abilities. ~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a horrible way to start a journal, probably the most over-done and unintriguing sentence used to start a story, but my name is Caleb Handover. I’m 16 years old, and I live in Wilmington, Delaware. I go to Mt. Pleasant High School, class of 2001. That makes me a Junior.

It’s boring. Every single day is the same. The ducks pass over the sky when I’m walking to school, and it looked cool when I was nine, but nowadays it just feels like I’m watching someone drive to work. 

Delaware duck schedule: 6 AM, wake up to the same alarm as everyone in the neighborhood. 7 AM, fly to the pond for breakfast and a bath. Pass by that blond kid again. 

My hair was born white. People on the street asked my mom while she was pushing the stroller, why do you bleach your baby’s hair? 

She never did. 

 First period is Advanced Placement Calculus. I’m thinking about ducks. Derivatives, ducks, hyperbolas, ducks, factorials, ducks, integrals…

My mom called my hair duck-fuzz.  

I like math, but I only say that because high schoolers have to like something. If you say you don’t like any subjects in school, you sound like a wannabe-dropout loser. I’m 16 years old and taking AP Calculus. I don’t think I’m a wannabe anything, but I don’t think I’m genuine, either. I’ve already done the warmup question on the board. Find 34! It’s just a factorial. Does anyone see me?

“Caleb Handover?”

Only during attendance. 

I raise my hand until my elbow is about six inches off of my table, parallel to the smooth, fake-wood surface. Not high enough to seem like a geek, but still giving effort.  

Invisibility is a science.

“Here.” 

There’s a pause. My hand stays in the air.

“Caleb Handover?” my teacher tilts his chin up and surveys the room, his pencil hovering over my name, ready to write truant. 

“I said I’m here,” I said louder as I raised my hand higher. My pen balances between my peace-sign fingers. My teacher flicks his eyes to me, and his eyebrows soften. He adjusts his glasses. The sad taste of desperation lingered in my mouth after essentially begging to be accounted for.

“Oh, hello Caleb. Sorry I didn’t see you.” My teacher laughs dryly and clears his throat. “Serena Hofstadter?” 

She has mono. 

“Gordon Jacobs?” 

That’s how Serena got mono.

For a moment I picture Serena and Gordon as Romeo and Juliet during the final act. Gordon drinks from a tall, crystal vial of mononucleosis extract and collapses. Serena, covered head-to-toe in orange spray tan and blonde highlights underneath her Shakespearean garb, discovers him on the floor and gives a tearful soliloquy before kissing him feverishly in an attempt to drink the mono from his lips. In the end, they’re both bedridden, and everyone knows. 

In fair Delaware we lay our scene.

I don’t know why, but I’m angry at them. Serena and Gordon. My knuckles turn white as I grip my pen harder, gritting my teeth and thinking about my peers who go to parties to drink and kiss and do drugs. I didn’t even think parties were a real thing until I started listening to rich kids’ conversations. 

“I got home so late last night…” quote from the boy wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

“I’m, like, so hungover.” quote from the girl wearing sunglasses indoors at 8:30 AM.

“Her house was so tacky.” quote from the girl whose locker is head-to-toe in sequins and leopard print, who uses perfume to cover the smell of anxiety pheromones. 

I’m not jealous, and I’d rather have lifelong diarrhea than be in the same boat as these kids, but it would be nice to have a life. 

It would be nice to be a part of something bigger than myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~ Author's Note: Please let me know what you think, and if I should keep writing this. It would be appreciated :)

CRINGETOBER: DAY 10

Ship Dynamic! istg every year or so Stanley Parable comes right back into being my main obsession like the ghost of autism past lmaoo (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

luckily that isn't happening rn but still thought it'd be fun to make sum fanart (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

btw I'm like 95% sure I won't be doing the prompt for tmrw cus 1. I need to pack for a huge trip and 2. I literally have 0 ideas for it (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) anyway yea just consider it a break day!

today's sketch dump, just a bunch of silly drawings I did in class, also a little bit of my stanley parable AU/version, ft tim wright, LOLz!! a little daisy, a little autism creature simon, my oc Aeryn and two more ocs Dan and richard (Dan calls him Dickie lolz) :3c

Shitty Narrator aesthetic: do you guys think that stanley and the narrator ever explored each other’s bodi- [i am violently expunged from the narrative]

because you saw 'brokeback mountain'

sooo i finished the drawing i was talking about earlier. i mean it's kind of okay but i still hate it

ummm my first post here (might be the last one as well)

my npd ass is craving attention really hard so uh ill post this pathetic beat up twink i drew at 4am and wait till something happens

Unreliable narrator except they’re not unreliable they’re straight up lying about everything and the other narrator has to keep correcting them.

Narrator 1: I’m telling you, they’re alive. It was just a little burn.

Narrator 2: They are not, in fact, alive. They jumped into an erupting volcano.