Stanley Marsh had fallen in love with only two women so far in his entire life span. The first girl to ever catch his attention was the ever so perfect Wendy Testaburger. A child prodigy, she appeared to be. She was gifted with an intelligence beyond the norm, her singing voice was the type of raw talent most producers would absolutely kill to manipulate, and she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever layed eyes on.

The first time he met Wendy was in second grade. Stan had taken interest with his friends in bullying a tiny blonde with big square rimmed glasses and a ridiculously noticeable overbite. Her name had been Bebe Stevens, and she was Wendy's dearest company.

A little girl dressed head to toe in pink with long black hair flowing freely behind her had approached them on the playground. Without so much as a warning, Stan had received a face full of snow and a harsh kick in the gut before he looked up in astonishment to watch Wendy lead Bebe towards the school. Nobody had ever stood up to him in such a way, and Stan felt himself spiraling into something completely foreign to him. It rumbled warmly in his chest, and boy was it pleasant.

Stan spent his school days watching her in a daze ever since the incident. He loved to watch her write and study the most. The way her eyes flicked over the pages or followed her pencil to ensure no mistakes were made, and sometimes he'd notice the way her forehead crinkled ever so slightly in her deep concentration. She worked hard, way too hard in Stan's opinion and he desperately wanted to fill her with something other than determination. She had plenty of that practically seeping past her pores. She just needed to relax.

In third grade, Stan had approached Wendy on the playground and shyly asked for her private attention. Reluctantly, she left her friends behind to see what he wanted. Stan was always staring at her, after all. And she had half a mind to break him down for it. His dark blue eyes distracted her so...

Neither of them had really expected the kiss Stan presented her with against her cheek. For the first time, Wendy was left thoughtless and speechless. No boy had ever shown her this type of affection before. How she managed to steal away the attention of someone as popular as the Stanley Marsh, she didn't have the answer. Silently, she ran calculations in her mind. This had to be a trap. A way to get back at her for humiliating him that one day in second grade.

While she remained still and quiet in utter disbelief, Stan quickly took advantage to speak his mind. There, beneath the arched tree, Stan confessed his deep love for her and the effect she had on him. While he certainly wasn't poetic, Wendy found the proclamation sweet and heart warming. Again, people didn't ever gaze at her in awe. Just her talents. Was that even important to Stan? She wondered. If Wendy hadn't been so gifted, would he still love her the same?

There was only one way to find out. Cautiously, she agreed to be his girlfriend.

The next two and a half years had been the happiest of Stan's life. He treated Wendy the way you would royalty. Everyday, he would reveal something about her that he adored deeply, and she rewarded him through affection and promises to stay forever. It could be easily argued that a boy and a girl so young couldn't possibly comprehend the definition of love. But all one had to really do was watch them together, observe the way they gazed at one another with an overwhelming display of affection. Undoubtedly, it was there. Stan was in love.

However, that all came to an abrupt end in sixth grade, when Wendy had suddenly claimed to no longer feel such a way. Stunned that he was being dismissed as hers, he desperately asked if he'd done something to upset her in some way. She didn't answer, and it seemed as though she were just as pained to be doing this as much as he was to be hearing it. She lifted a hand to touch his cheek and he bent forward to touch his forehead to hers. It was the last time he'd get to be with her like this. In a final attempt to make her stay, he kissed her for the very first time. Wendy's lips used to make him jittery and frightened enough to the point of nausea. Because of this, he had never made a move on her. But when his relationship with her was on the line like this, kissing her seemed like such a miniscule price to pay. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked the way he had wanted. Still, she bid him goodbye.

Internal agony, Stan decided ever since, was far worse than obtaining battle scars.

The second woman to ever draw away his affectionate attention turned out to be his newest next door neighbor. Fifteen years old, Stan sat backwards on his couch, watching as she sunbathed in a lawn chair just outside of her house. Ariel Ellen, absolutely stunning with voluptuous curves, short black hair that stopped just underneath her ears, and echoing dark green eyes. There was just one issue. She was older than Stan by seven years.

She worked as a substitute teacher and often took up the task of directing some of Stan's classes. There, he knew her strictly as Ms. Ellen and resisted the urge to stare. He certainly wasn't the only one who noticed her dazzling good looks. What made Stan different from the rest of his classmates was the fact that sometimes, he could swear she looked at him as well.

Stan had promised to dedicate his high school life to earning a scholarship in football. He wasn't smart, so his slightly below average grades wouldn't get him into Harvard anytime soon. He was good at being a quarterback. Not only did it make him overly looked up to by his peers, but he really enjoyed himself.

He constantly told himself that a girlfriend would only distract him from his goals. Truthfully, ever since the propaganda with Wendy, relationships were a delicate matter.

§

Ms. Ellen had knocked on Stan's door one day. Apparently, her lawn mower was busted and the grass had grown past exceptional standards. She had politely wondered if she could borrow theirs. Stan, in a dizzy state that forced away all logic, had offered to cut the grass himself.

It hadn't taken too long to mow down her lawn. But nobody liked grunt work. For the entire time he spent doing this, he found himself wondering just what had come over him to offer such hard work from himself. All that could really register was the idea that her doing this herself made him feel terrible, and a strong desire to do this suddenly overtook.

"Stanley," she called lightly. "Come inside for some lemonade. You've been working very hard."

Stan happily abandoned his work to walk inside the home of the woman he spent hours on end fantasizing over. Her home was very quaint and old fashioned, which Stan found something else to admire over. A simple woman. That was a huge turn around from the last girl that choked his heart with her mere beauty. The only oddity he found was that cage of black rats sitting bunched together upon a shelf. They squeaked obnoxiously as he passed, clawing and gnawing at their bars. Stan's heart went out for them. He had the softest spot for animals.

Ms. Ellen paused just a beat to give them a hard look, to which they silenced as though trained. If Stan hadn't been looking her way in that instant, he would've missed it. "Wow," his throat was incredibly dry and he forced himself to swallow. "That's amazing. You made them go quiet with only a look."

Ms. Ellen's smile was sugary and she shrugged bashfully in reply. "Well," she giggled. "They of course need to be trained. Otherwise, they'd be quite obnoxious all day long."

They entered her kitchen together. Ms. Ellen waved him towards a chair next to a tiny, round table. Stan swiftly obliged and made himself comfortable. His dark blue eyes raked Ms. Ellen's form up and down as she poured two glasses of pink lemonade, her back to him. She was so gorgeous for someone her age, but was it right of him to lust after her the way he did?

"Stanley?" The boy flinched from his daze and hummed in answer to her summon. She spun on her heel and approached in a rather slow manner. Perhaps it was Stan's imagination, but it was almost as though she were purposely behaving this seductively. "I've noticed something about you," she said as she sat across from him. After sliding him a glass, she crossed a single lithe leg over the other and smirked darkly.

Stan tried not to stare as he sipped at his glass. "Oh?" Was all he could manage. Suddenly, the air became much tighter than what was bearable.

She nodded in a way that said she had a dirty secret. All Stan needed to do now was figure out whether or not he wished to know it. "Yes Stanley," she went on, swirling the pink, sour substance in her cup. "I've noticed something quite interesting to say the least. I've noticed that you have a strange tendency to admire me from afar."

Stan nearly choked on his beverage at the accusation, she had noticed! She knew he was interested in her in the most inappropriate manner, and she had brought him here to politely shoot him down. How embarrassing. He spluttered as he attempted to come up with a reasonable excuse for the constant gawking on his behalf. However, he sadly came up short on the mission of self rescue. There was only one, very obvious reason for him to be staring at her the way he always was, and that was a humiliating presentation all on its own.

"I-I didn't mean to...offend or upset you," he mumbled, lowering his gaze shamefully to the floor.

Ms. Ellen smiled brighter, amused at his shy display. She leaned forward then, settling both feet on the ground as she lifted his chin and forced their eyes to meet. "You're cute Stan," she spoke admittedly, Stan quirked a brow of confusion, her hand lowered from his face and rested far too casually upon his thigh. Stan had to suppress a shiver. Ms. Ellen licked her bottom lip as her eyes lowered in a sexy manner. And then she asked in a husky voice, "Have you ever been touched, Stanley?"

Stan couldn't breathe, couldn't think correctly, he couldn't even blink. When Stan was younger, he had been told to hold onto his innocence until the ripe age of seventeen. Now, he couldn't recall why. Without even realizing it, he slowly shook his head. His voice was far too untrustworthy.

Ms. Ellen could slice through glass with her grin. She leaned forward and brushed her deep red lips across his jaw, allowing her hand to slide up his inner thigh. "Would you like to?" She asked, kissing just behind his ear. Stan gripped her shoulders, his uncertainty rising with the rate of his heart. Was this right? He couldn't exactly present her to her parents anytime soon. Or anyone else for that matter. Not only this, but Stan didn't want to go through another heartbreak. Not after Wendy... He pulled her closer to his head, Ms. Ellen's lips helped tremendously with the task of blurring any logical thought.

"Ms. Ellen-"

"Call me Ariel, Stan." She murmured softly against his skin.

And so he did just that. Over, and over, and over again.

§

Stan and Ariel fell into a whirlwind of heat on a regular basis. Each day, she would invite him over just so that they could entangle together once more in her sheets. Many times before, she had excused him from class just for a quickie in the janitor's closet, no longer could Stan pass by it without grinning to himself. He had never felt more like a man than he did with Ariel, the pretty girls who eyed him at school could never do justice. What's even better, he hadn't thought about Wendy even once ever since the substitute. All was well in the life of Stanley Marsh.

Until he made one dreadful mistake.

The candles flickered in Ariel's room, illuminating the bodies of herself and her lover as they lied bare under the sheets. Their hair was slick with sweat, the air was sweet with the luscious scent of them and passion. Ariel lied on top of the boy, tracing invisible patterns along his chest with her index finger, a marvelous grin spread softly among her even more marvelous features. "You get better each time," she laughed tiredly. "Your future girl will have me to thank."

There was a drop in her tone that voiced jealousy. Despite himself, the thought of her caring enough to be envious pleased Stan more than it should've. "You're planning on thanking yourself?" He teased as his hands slipped through her short locks. "I wouldn't recommend doing it anywhere someone could catch you. They might think you're weird."

Ariel gazed gently at him. It exacted the way Wendy had once looked his way, it made Stan's heart thump happily, but also ache for something else. Something he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge while another girl was in his arms. "Stanley," she murmured, brushing her lips against his collarbone. "Tell me that you'd do anything for me. No matter the cost, I need to know that you'll always do whatever I need from you."

Stan watched her in utter adoration. The desperation in her voice sounded odd, certainly. But he was too lost in her eyes to possibly notice much else in this world, all of his reason belonged strictly to her. "I'd do anything for you," he promised softly.

§

Stan turned sixteen when it all went up in flames. He was sitting alone in the shed, admiring the power tools his father was so proud to own. Stan could hardly wait until he bought his first set. Perhaps he had accidentally brushed his thumb along the button of the drill he had been holding. But the sound of it screeching to life made him jump right out of his skin, and he dropped the item with a loud clatter. The drill shut off at once.

Something with less explanation happened the very next day. His mother had given Stan her CD player, asking that he unscrew the back of it so she could retrieve the useless batteries within. Unfortunately, this portable little music device was beyond his time (dramatically put) and the screws required a special drill he wasn't sure his father owned. Sure, he could've asked. Sadly, it was Sport's Center time and his dad was most likely drunk, and pretty much undressed.

Stan found himself highly frustrated. It wasn't a big deal, but he hated to disappoint his mother, who worked more often than his father. His desire to get the screws loose must've been that strong because they suddenly popped free from their sockets, one even hit Stan in his eye. Stunned and in pain, Stan stumbled backwards and dropped the player onto the table, rubbing his eye in disbelief. Had he done that?

Discovery after discovery, evidence after evidence, Stan was losing his explanation and mind. It seemed, no matter how much he denied it, he was the cause of each tool's odd behavior. What was even worse, he was forced to deal with it all on his own. His dear Ariel Ellen had abruptly packed up and disappeared without so much as a goodbye. All that was left of her was a note dedicated to him, promising a second meeting. Stan, in a fit of fury and devastation, had torn apart the note and broken several holes in her deserted walls. Why was it that the ones he loved had tendencies to leave him? Did he come on too strong? Stan hadn't exactly ever window shopped for wedding rings or anything.

Well, actually, he had. When he was with Wendy.Oh Wendy...

§

Stan was now seventeen years old. He was perfectly aware of this out of no where ability, something that made him much less enthusiastic over life. He seemed to wholeheartedly ditch his friends in return for solitude. Precisely, what would they think of him if they knew he was a freak? Or maybe he didn't actually have mind control over tools the way he thought he did. Maybe it was all in his head. The constant suppression of emotion could drive one mad, correct?

Stan sat up from his bed and glared at the wrench that rested silently upon his mattress. It mocked him in its light, daring him to act upon thought. Stan narrowed his dark blue eyes hatefully. With a single, unspoken command, the object lifted into the air and floated unbelievably before him. Another thought later, the wrench flew forward and stabbed directly through the wall across from him.

Insanity. It had to be insanity.

A/N: Ariel Ellen isn't mine. I based her off of a guest star character from older episodes, where the main character's recieved a hot substitute teacher for their class by the name of Ms. Ellen. All the students fell instantly in love with her, including Stan despite the fact that he was with Wendy, who became insanely jealous over the entire matter. Ms. Ellen is especially OOC in this because it's revealed later on in the episode that she's a lesbian. I don't know what her first name was, it doesn't ever get mentioned.

Please also note, any romance which shows in this fic is solely due to the fact that it had sprouted at least once between the two in canon episodes (whether it was one sided or mutually requited). I'm striving not to use OC's or invent pairings that I may personally ship. Naturally, you shouldn't expect any homosexual happenings.