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hunnysnoops · 10 months ago

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˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter One: Undone

Kylie Broflovski x fem Reader

If you want to destroy my sweater, pull this thread as I walk away.

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: Despite having almost inseparable families, you and Kyle couldn't hate each other anymore than you already. The second you saw him you had your claws out and we would be ready to hold a knife to your throat, like wolves you devoured each other until a bump in the road sent you tumbling into a new dynamic. Maybe you two can find new ways to fall apart.

Warnings: Vulgar language+humour / mentions of smoking and drugs / Cartman gets called fat

MASTERLIST

Kyle was the only one who knew how truly competitive you were. He couldn't figure out how no one else saw especially during your sports matches, you always had to be forward, had to score the last point, had to win, and you craved it as compulsively as the nicotine you sucked from your fingernails when you ran out of cigarettes to burn through.

Your parents had always been close to Kyle's since high school allegedly; being constantly forced to jump back and forth between each other's houses for family dinners and game nights didn't aid in the fact that you wanted to tear each other's throats out with razor-sharp teeth. They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder and this absurd proximity made the both of you sick with a frothing rage.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly where this hatred started, it was likely back in middle school where it was taboo for boys and girls to hang out, and those kids acted like it breached scripture if you did. Truthfully you didn't remember being friends but there was photo evidence of you playing as children so you couldn't deny it.

He has seen every inch of your life inside and out from the seventeen years that you were cursed to spend side by side. He knew that you had some fun habits such as swallowing back a little bit of synthetic sunshine in the form of little tabs of acid and how you would take a joint for a stroll in the dead of night.

For every secret he held over your head, you dangled one of his right before his green eyes. This is the only thing that kept all hell from breaking loose.

"Good practice girls, I'll see all of you on Thursday," Coach Jackson said, with no indication of pride for the team's gruelling efforts on her tanned face, not even a dribble of sweat on her brow since all she did was stand in place and yell at you.

As soccer practice finally came to a close the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow on the team where you all lay on the ground of the pitch next to your bags, trying to catch your breath. Nichole chugged down her water so fast that it was dribbling down her chin and droplets had soaked into her tee shirt.

You were the most composed of all of them despite being a little short of breath, you wiped the sweat from the bow of your lip and began to peel off your sweaty shin guards.

"How are you so okay?" Annie asked, red-faced, strands of her curly blonde hair sticking out and flying loose in the wind while she sipped on a Gatorade.

You shrug "I run a lot," It was the truth, you liked the feeling of burning in your lungs along with the fact that you built up good stamina and in turn were able to withstand your coach's harsh practices.

"I should start running with you," Annie says, panting heavily before she throws herself flat against the cool grass.

"I don't know if you could keep up," There's something of a smile playing on Red's face while she shoves her gross gear into her duffle bag. "I see her run by my house every night." She had a bit of trouble keeping her shag cut tied back in a ponytail, any attempt to get the layers to stay in a braid or bun was futile so she settled on a black headband to at least keep it out of her face.

Off in the distance, Bebe honked her car horn, she had shown up early to pick up her friends and due to this in the last fifteen minutes of practice you could hear classic Justin Bieber blasting faintly from her car. "Annie, we gotta go," Nichole says.

"Ugh," Annie draws out in her dazey state. Nichole paid her friend the service of grabbing her bag and trying to drag her up to her feet.

"C'mon," Nichole mutters, hooking an arm around Annie and yanking her up to her feet. Annie finds her own footing and detaches herself from Nichole, she's still in her shin guards and cleats. "Are you coming to Wendy's later?" Nichole looks at you, sweat shimmering on her ebony skin beneath the setting sun.

You think about it for a moment before ultimately shaking your head "I gotta pick my brother up."

"What about after?"

"Too crammed with homework," You were lying through your teeth, your social battery was just running a little low and things with your dad weren't going too great. You made the decision that you needed to lock yourself in the bathroom run the shower over your skin and scrub until the water washed away the stress of your week or get high with Kenny until you felt your face go numb. Just something along those lines.

"Too bad," Annie frowns, eyes half-lidded and breathes shallow.

"See you tomorrow then," Red waves at you before heading to her car, bright hair sticking out in the green landscape.

“Love ya, Red,” You look around at the rest of your team, all cooling down and conversing "Anyone need a ride home?" Everyone looks around and shakes their heads "Isla?"

"No," She says "I'm going with Kelly."

"Alright," You sling your bag over your shoulder, clutching your carabiner in hand, it has a little keychain of a Volkswagon bus on it, a cowboy hat knick-knack and of course your actual keys. "Bye guys, see you on Thursday."

Your words are met with collective 'goodbyes' from the girls. You walk off the pitch, and despite your legs feeling like jello you manage to step off of the grassy field and land on concrete, lazy steps leading you back to your car.

Tossing your bag into the backseat, you tap around on your phone to connect to the speaker, turn it up as loud as it goes and roll down your windows. You liked your music so loud that you couldn't even hear your own thoughts, just your playlist on shuffle as you absentmindedly sang along to it. You grabbed some body spray and doused the car in it to cover up the subtle linger of cigarettes from your late-night drive the previous evening.

The air was warm and carried the scent of fresh-cut grass as you drove through the familiar suburban streets. With the windows down, you felt the gentle breeze tousle your hair, a welcome relief from the day's heat. You hummed along to the music, mind drifting as you navigated the familiar route.

As you turned the corner onto the neighbour's street, the sun painted the sky in a breathtaking array of colours - hues of orange, pink, and purple blending seamlessly against the evening sky. You couldn't help but steal a moment to admire the beauty of the sunset, the vibrant colours reflecting in your eyes. It was nearing six pm when you finally pulled into the Broflovski driveway.

You step out, looking a little worse for wear. You had taken off your shin guards and cleats but left the knee-high socks on as well as a tee shirt with the Park County cows logo on it and a pair of athletic shorts. It was one of the warmer days since it was nearing summer though South Park had a way with erratic weather that couldn't make up its mind, you were sure there would be a storm tomorrow to cancel out the nice weather.

Knocking on the door, you put on a smile, expecting to see Gerald or Sheila though you were unpleasantly met with their oldest son, Kyle. Your smile drops immediately and it's easy to see that he isn't too excited to see you either. "Oh." You push passed Kyle and into his house "Weston," You call out "Time to go!"

Kyle wrinkles his nose "You smell like hand sanitizer," He says, speaking on all of the body mist you had sprayed in the car.

"And you look like orphan Annie," You turn quickly to face him before calling up the stairs "Weston, let's go!"

"Did you leave your windows down at the car wash?" His eyes rake up your body at your sweaty form, little strands of hair sticking to your neck.

"Go on Accutane, matchstick," You retort. This nickname came about when Kyle began to outgrow his friends, with a lanky body and a mop of curly red hair, the nickname struck you in a moment of genius. As of now, he was wearing his hat, he hardly ever took it off, especially out in public. You'd only seen it come off his head when he was swimming or when his mom forced it off.

Something about the Broflovski house was always comforting even if you hated one-fourth of the family, you loved the other three. The scent of whatever Sheila was cooking always lingered in the air, right now the smell was sweet and faint. You assumed she hadn't been home but caught a glimpse of a cookie rack set out on the kitchen counter.

His eyebrows furrow "My acne isn't even that bad," He was right, you just knew that it got under his skin "Crash," He says, a little less creative than your nickname for him, born from the time you did acid and woke up in his backyard, luckily before his parents noticed you but not after Kyle took pictures of you passed out on the grassy lawn as well as a few rumours that had been spread about you.

"Sure, ginger, sorry you have a hard knock life," You had run out of insults to call him after seventeen years. In middle school, you ripped on him constantly for how scrawny he was along with voice cracks and his acne, though in recent years, he had passed puberty, had a deeper voice, sorted out his pimple issue, and taken to running, basketball, lacrosse, and going to the gym to tone up. You could still rag on him for it but it has less impact when it wasn't true and god knows you wouldn't go mocking his religion, you may have hated him but you had morals. All you had left to make fun of was his hair colour.

It was similar to the way he couldn't make fun of you for being ugly, unpopular, or stupid like he used to since puberty hit you like a bus and you were almost unrecognizable from the brace-faced awkward kid you used to be. You were also a little too confident and erratic for his liking.

You were going to make your way upstairs to Ike's room where you assumed the two boys had been until you heard the familiar sound of upbeat electric rhythms and horribly overacted lines of Fury Fighters, a classic 1v1 fighting game. You move away from Kyle and turn in to the living room where you see your little brother and Ike on the couch, hyper-focused on the game ahead of them. "Did you go deaf suddenly or were you just ignoring me?"

"I was ignoring you," Weston says, bluntly. His hair is an untamed mess and the collar of his wrinkled tee is stretched out. He doesn't even look back at you but Kyle cracks a smile at his words.

"C'mon shrimp, we gotta go," You say, crossing your arms.

He lets out a groan "Can I stay like thirty more minutes?"

You shake your head "Nah, Kyle's cologne is giving me a headache."

Ike snorts a laugh and glances back at his brother, his smile falls when he looks at you; he's putting on his tough guy persona. He clears his throat and deepens his voice in the slightest "What's up?" It was clear that the little brother had a crush on you though no one brought it up, you could tell it bothered Weston.

"Hey, Ike," You give him a tight-lipped smile, watching as he turns back to the TV, fingers clicking over the controller aggressively. "You can finish this round and we're out."

"Yes!" Weston says "Thanks, love you," He says with haste, thinking that it'll butter you up.

You plop yourself on the carpeted floor in front of the couch to watch the match play out. Ike was playing as Tempest, a mage who was wise and old, a long white beard yet he somehow had an absolutely shredded pixel body. Weston was playing Sable, a pink-haired woman in a short nurse's uniform who used surgical tools as weapons, she was your go-to back when you still played Fury Fighters with your friends. You would refuse to play as a man because it breached your pre-teen code of feminism. Watching them play made you feel nostalgic.

Kyle leans his elbows on the back of the couch, hands clasped together to watch the game, the same as you. "Kick his ass, Weston," Kyle says, rooting for your brother, purely to annoy his.

"Hey!" Ike exclaims though he doesn't move his unwavering gaze from the game "Whose side are you on?"

"Smoke him, Ike!" You say, a little louder than intended to balance out the cheering section.

Sheila always kept the household neat which was a miracle with Ike and Weston always running around, recently she had taken to a love of houseplants and had at least one in every corner of the home. There were framed pictures strung up on every single wall without fail, lots of the family, Sheila's wedding day, and a collection of you and Kyle actually getting along when you were kids. There's one of the two of you playing under a sprinkler in rain boots, another of you standing and smiling brightly by a snowman you made, and a picture of Kyle covering all of your little scrapes in Spider-Man band-aids. In every photo of you after the age of seven, you were with the rest of your families on opposite ends, as far away from each other as you could get.

You look back to the TV where Ike's character, Tempest summons the dead with his staff, grey decaying hands rise from the 2D ground and drag Sable down. "Fuck!" Weston yells, panic quickly spreading across his face, his eyes shoot back and forth frantically from the controller to the TV.

Sable jumps back up and readies herself into a fighting stance, Tempest moves his staff, a green diamond on the end, horizontally and jabs Sable in the stomach over and over until she rolls back to the ground. Ike has a huge grin on his face, shaggy black hair framing his pale features, he desperately needed a haircut but for now, he was relishing in watching Sable's health bar move down.

"By the elements, I shall prevail!" Calls out Tempest, his voice actor had really put his all into making him sound deep and gruff. Ike randomly spams the buttons, sending out an erratic combo. The characters were fighting in the center of a dark alley, blue and red lights flashing every few minutes.

Sable pulls a long scalpel out of her thigh-high socks and charges towards Tempest, slashing him. When Tempest's health bar falls, Sable speaks out a voice line "Every wound has a remedy," Her sultry voice makes you cringe just the slightest, you hadn't remembered her to sound so sensual.

Tempest rises back up, jumps toward Sable and greets the character with a heavy uppercut, sending her flying through the air. You find your fingers digging into the carpet, you had hoped that Sable would win just from the fact that you used to play as her. You almost wanted to grab the remote from your brother's hand and show him how to play as her, you had memorized all of her combos and moves, and they became muscle memory to you. "You're demise is written in the stars!" The buff wizard raises his hands to the sky, gearing up to cast one final blow.

In the midst of this, Sable jumps up, pulls a bone saw out from behind her back and slices Tempest's head clean off before he can finish casting his spell. Ike drops his controller, moving his hand to grab his hair, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock while he watches his character's health bar plummet to zero. The wizard's head rolls around on the pixel ground before Sable picks it up and kisses it "Nurse's orders: Stay down," She says before drop-kicking the head out of frame. A title card covers up the scene that reads 'It's a wrap!’

"Fuck yeah!" Weston says, giving Kyle a firm high five. He looked happier than you had seen him all week, middle school was kicking his ass and you had to pull some time aside almost every night to help him with algebra. You would've scolded him for playing video games instead of studying for his social studies test if you hadn't been doing the same at his age.

"How the hell did you do that?" Ike's head whips to look at his friend who just shrugs.

You push yourself off the floor, giving your brother's hair a little tussle "Let's go, shrimp."

With a groan Weston up to slip his shoes on at the rack, "See you tomorrow, Ike," He grabs his bag where it sits by the coat stand. Kyle hurdles himself over the couch, taking Weston's place on the sofa and picking up the free controller to play "Bye Kyle!" He says, lacing up his sneakers.

Kyle looks over the couch and at him with a smile "See you later buddy."

The second you think Weston is looking away you stick up the middle finger to the red-headed boy across from you but it surely didn't go unnoticed "Why are you flipping Kyle off?" Weston asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks up at you.

You drop your hand "I'm not, I was waving at him." You lie, trying to form a cover-up. You place a hand between his shoulder blades to guide him out the door.

"You're sweaty," He comments.

"Thanks, I had no idea," You open the door and close it behind you before Kyle can say anything to your brother's remark. It's already colder than when you entered the house and you race to get to the car before you get a chill.

Weston hops into the passenger seat, scrunching up his nose at the music you're playing "Can you put on Lil Shovel?" He asks. It was one of the many rappers he had attempted to imitate. He thought they were cool for decking themselves out in designer brands and sticking dollar bills into women's thongs in music videos.

"I'm not playing that shit," You start the car and turn out of the driveway.

"Why?"

"Because it makes me want to hammer nails into my ears," You answer, eyes focused in the road while you glide through the suburban street. "Listen to Eminem or something."

"Dad doesn't like Eminem."

You wrinkle your nose "Why?"

"Because he said that thing about the gerbil."

Recognition hits you and you nod "Yeah, that checks out," Your dad was a pretty modest guy, he didn't care about anything overly vulgar. He basically mandated your life, he was the reason you were in so many extracurriculars and were the last person in your grade to get a phone, something Kyle would've teased you for if your parents weren't so similar.

"Can you drive me and Ike to the quarry on Friday?" Weston has one hand sticking out of the window moving it up and down like it was a plane, it was something you used to do before you were the one driving, a little mannerism he picked up off you.

"I have track practice and then I gotta help Heidi and Wendy with their fundraiser, sorry, shrimp," You take note of every house you pass, swearing you could put a name to every single one. You felt the fatigue hit you all at once, you knew that night your bed would become a casket and you would have to be pried from it like a floorboard. "Ask Kyle."

"We did, he has basketball practice."

"Bummer," You say. It had slipped your mind completely that he was on the team and you hated it and how your friends gushed about Kyle before catching themselves and sending you apologetic glances. "Guess you gotta bike then."

You remember when you were your brother's age, twelve years old and you came home every night at sunset with a new scrape to show for the adventure you set out on. You gave bruises out like gifts and collected them like stickers, some sort of pride when parents would silently judge you for having purple busted-up knees.

"Mhm," He nods "Hey, can we go to Burger King?"

"No," You say almost immediately "Mom's making dinner right now."

Weston scrunched up his nose "Yeah but she had the crock pot out on the counter when I left for school today," Nothing good came from your mother's crock pot. "Can we please get Burger King?"

"First of all, Mom will kill me if I load you up with more fast food, second of all, she's gonna make you eat her dinner anyways, so just be nice and tell her it's good."

"Ugh," He grumbles watching wistfully into the distance, his thoughts stuck on the combo he was craving. "I should've stayed at Ike's for dinner."

"Yeah, me too," News of the dreaded crock pot had only worsened your day. Sheila on the other hand was an incredible cook, as much as you loved your mom and the effort she put into her meals, nothing would compare to Sheila's brisket. The thought of it almost made your stomach grumble. If you lived with Broflovski's you would've weighed three hundred pounds more.

Your mind ricochets back and forth between going home or heading to Wendy's with the rest of your friends though the thought of being alone with tobacco burning your throat soothed you.

The drive from the Broflovski's to yours wasn't too long, truthfully, your brother was perfectly capable of walking. The sky transformed into a canvas of deepening shades, the last traces of sunlight giving way to the embrace of twilight. You stole glances at your brother, his animated chatter filling the car with warmth.

You park the car in the driveway behind your dad's car, he would surely yell at you to move it in the morning but that was a problem for future you and a decision you would regret making. You pull up on the street right in front of your house. Weston was quick to hop out of the car, he rushed across the lawn and waited by the front door for you to turn off the car, but you didn't, you just watched and waited for him to go inside.

"Are you coming?" Weston asked.

You stick your head out of the window "Tell Mom I'm stopping by Red's, I'll be back before dinner," Weston rolls his eyes at this, he didn't care for Red, since you started being friends with her you had even less time to spend with your brother. Nights of staying up late with Weston and playing Stardew Valley turned into you hanging out with your friend and getting high.

"Tell Rebecca to eat a dick!" Weston cups his hands around his mouth.

"I won't do that but good suggestion," You call back before stepping on the peddle and moving back down the familiar streets. It was just past six and there hadn't been anyone outside, everyone was tucked away in their respective home, warm lights from windows spilling into the darkening sky.

You didn't go to Red's, you just kept driving until you ended up at a gas station on the outskirts of town. It had long passed the dinner you promised to be home for, instead of eating the crock pot monstrosity, you opt for something with a sweeter taste, a cigarette and a bag of teriyaki beef jerky. You sat on the curb watching cars roll past, their headlights framing you like you were on stage. You just craved the aloneness you so rarely got.

You shuffle through the cafeteria line, undecided on what you want to eat but settling on one of those sugar-free drinks that are worse for you than just grabbing a regular soda for a drink. "Keep it moving, Junkie," Cartman says from beside you. God how he irked you, it was in his nature to be unbearable.

"What? Not like it's going anywhere, I'm more worried for the people in line behind you who have to eat crumbs."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" He asks adding a paper plate of ribs to his tray and then another.

"It means you're fat."

He shrugs "Doesn't bother me," Cartman had grown to be a little more self-aware, by a little I mean a very small smidgen.

"You're a fat-fat fatty, keep eating fatty," your voice was unwavering. You hadn't had too much of a problem with Cartman throughout school, sure he had been a dick but you never interacted enough for him to be on your radar until he started a rumour about you shooting up heroin in the janitors closet which led to him telling everyone you were a drug dealer. This cursed you with the nicknames of crash, popper, and of course, junkie. When it first happened you weren't even aware, you just sat confused about why everyone was adding your Snapchat and asking about buying stuff from you. Eventually, staff caught wind of this and it only got worse from there.

"Fuck you, crash," He sticks up a middle finger at you "You're a dyke."

You return the gesture "At least I get pussy, lard ass."

"I have tons of sex, you faggot."

"Your hand doesn't count," You say examining the food in the chafing dishes which looked surprisingly good for school food.

"I don't care if you're a girl, I will kick your ass," He starts to get in your face but you don't bother to acknowledge it, still looking through the food options.

"I bet if I pushed you over you would just keep rolling."

"Whatever bitch."

"Hurry up, butterball," Bebe cuts in front of Eric who has a look of pure seething rage on his face. She looks beautiful as always, blonde curly hair falling in perfect ringlets and framing her dainty face. She's wearing a red off-the-shoulders sweater and low-waisted jeans, it's such a simple outfit but Bebe manages to make it look unique and expensive.

"Fuck you, Bebe," he turns a middle finger to her, "Go shoot up with your little lezzy girlfriend." That was another rumour that he successfully sparked, that you and Bebe were secretly dating. The two of you found it funnier than the heroin thing and played into it on occasion.

"You're so fucking stupid," Bebe wrinkles her nose in distaste of the chubby kid in front of her "Don't crack the floor when you waddle over to your table, fat ass," She adds a yogurt parfait onto her tray and keeps moving down the line, you follow in suit.

The two of you hand the lunch lady your cafeteria card but your eye snags on something else entirely "Where's Wendy?"

Bebe looks in the same direction as you where your entire friend group sits, minus Wendy who you could've sworn was there only moments ago. Her tray still sat in front of her spot on the table "She's talking with Stan I think."

"What?" You look at the blonde text to you while you find your table "Are they getting back together or something?"

"She was saying she wanted to work things out with him last night, you'd know if you were there."

"Why didn't she tell me?" You furrow your eyebrows as you glance at Stan's regular table where he was also absent from. The second thing you noticed was how irritated Kyle seemed, likely because his best friend would be opting to spend time with Wendy again instead of him. Cartman plops himself down next to the ginger, only making Kyle more agitated. When Kyle looks away for a split second, Kenny steals food off his plate and blames it on Eric. “I would never steal food from a dirty Jew!” He says, voice carrying over every other conversation in the room.

"She might not have told because you can be a little-" Bebe searches around for a word that'll soften the message "Abrasive?"

"I'm not abrasive," You say as you sit yourself down at the cafeteria table, immediately met by curious glances from the rest of your friends. This made you question yourself. Had you been so blunt that your best friend didn't want to tell you what was going on in her life? Yes. You didn't know how else to be, it was wired into your system; born from the way you were raised, like a wild animal who fought for scraps, if you didn't kill, you wouldn’t eat. Your family wasn’t really complete, it was more like something like a mom who worked herself to rust and a dad who popped in and out like some kind of disappearing act.

No one bothers to dig deeper into your sentence, already enraptured in their conversation. "I wonder how Tolkien feels about it," Lola asks, leaning in a little to where Nelly sits on the other side of the table, seemingly hanging onto every word.

"I know!" Nelly says, unable to fight the smile that formed on her face every time she gossiped "Did you notice how he isn't sitting where he usually is." At this, everyone turns their heads to Tolkien's regular table, where he’s MIA from.

Halfway through sucking the meat off of his ribs, Cartman notices everyone at your table staring them down. He glances around the table before deciding that you are looking at him, barbeque sauce smeared over his mouth and down his fingers. "What the fuck are you looking at?" He calls out, now drawing the attention of the cafeteria to you and your friends who quickly avert their gazes back to their food.

You meet Kyles's eyes for just a moment, you can read loud and clear that he's annoyed Wendy's back in the picture and she'll be poaching his best friend from him. Despite the act he's trying to portray of being indifferent, you can tell there's a storm brewing beneath his green eyes.

In your pocket, your phone buzzes and you look at it.

McWhoremick: what was that about?

You: Cartman looking rancid

McWhoremick: fair

McWhoremick: wanna hang later?

You: fo sho

You: junkyard?

McWhoremick: yup

McWhoremick: see ya :P

"What's that?" Red peaks down at your phone from next to you, her chin resting on your shoulder "Is it Wendy?"

"She's been weird lately," Jenny says, she doesn't look up from her mac and cheese, just pushes it around absentmindedly with her fork.

"Probably because all of you are talking about her like she's not our friend," Heidi peeps up for the first time in the conversation. You're a little surprised that she's eating lunch with you, in recent days she's been so busy with sustainability club that it's taken up all of her lunch breaks.

Heidi was right as usual. It didn't feel right to be talking about Wendy when she was twenty metres away, it didn't feel right to talk about her at all. The group fell quiet at this, trying to search for another topic that didn't involve speaking poorly of your friend.

"So," Red starts "Who's excited for the basketball game?"

You really weren't, you had no intentions of going though you were sure your parents would make you go to support Kyle. "I think I'll go to watch Kyle," Nichole comments. Your head whips to look at her immediately, it only made sense that she was over Tolkien after what happened with Wendy but you hadn't expected her to go for Kyle.

"Uh oh," Annie says, a small smile playing on her face. Lately, she had taken good care of her curls, a stark difference from the frizzy mess that was stuck on her head all through middle school.

"Nichole," You say, staring her down "Are you okay?"

"Sorry to say this," Bebe pipes up, not one hundred percent tuned into the conversation "He actually isn't the piece of shit that you make him out to be."

"You don't-

"Know him like I do?" Heidi finishes your sentence for you. Something you had repeated over and over again when trying to get your point across that he was evil and no one could see it but you.

"I'd do it," Lola shrugs and your face contorts in disgust.

"Ew," You say with haste, fighting the urge to gag on your food. "Do you guys realize that he's ginger under that hat?"

Everyone is unsurprised at your disdain for him, even though you tried not to talk about him so you didn't seem obsessed, every now and then, the start of a rant would slip out and that would turn into you rambling on and on about every little annoying detail about him. You wondered for a brief moment if he did the same when walking about you.

"What is it that you hate about him anyway?" Red asks.

You rack your brain for a truly solid reason you can't say that it irritated you how Kyle ran the opposite way of you on the trail on your nightly run, it was the most dreaded part of the day, brushing past him and pretending not to notice. You also couldn't delve into the fact that he always had a bored, unimpressed expression on his face when he talked to you. "Everything." You answer "I hate everything about him."

"Okay gang," Mr Waterman claps his hands together once everyone is finally seated. "I know we're getting close to the end of the year and it's exciting but there is always work to be done." He was in his thirties, a little on the shorter side, with brown hair, glasses, and lean for a teacher though it made sense since he doubled as the basketball coach. He had tried his best to be funny though his jokes usually fell flat but you found yourself laughing out of pity like it was second nature.

Wendy sat next to you, you hadn't pressed her about Stan (despite wanting to) and she hadn't brought it up. Kyle sits next to a guy whose name slipped through the cracks of your mind and stays completely silent while the teacher gives his spiel about hard work and effort.

"This will be our final seating change for the year, so if you're next to someone you don't like know it'll be over by the end of June," Mr Waterman sits himself at his desk dead in front of every lab table, shares his computer screen to the projector, showing the new seating arrangments "Alright, here are your lab partners until semester end."

You scan the whiteboard for your name and your breath hitches in your throat when you see it next to Kyles. Kyle whips his head to look at you, your gazes matching in utter terror. You had relished in the fact that You had gone the entire semester without talking to Kyle a single time in biology class.

There weren’t desks in the science labs but black tables built for two people since they worked out better for experiments, there you were stuck at the back of the class with the ginger demon spawn.

"Mr Waterman?" You raise your hand but speak before he even calls on you "You need to move me or I'll kill myself."

"Woah," He puts both of his hands out "Let's not joke about that-

"I'm not joking," You cut him off, tone dead serious. Wendy tugs at the hem of your shirt, trying to get you to sit back down, you just cast her a glance before looking back to the short teacher. "I will kill myself."

"Can you and Kyle please come up here so I can talk to you," At Mr. Waterman's words, Kyle shoots you a malicious glare.

"When you cause a scene about not wanting to sit next to someone it can be hurtful," Mr Waterman addresses you, his tanned hands grasped together. Bless his heart, Kyle thought he was getting in trouble and it would put a dent into his perfect record, the kid never even missed a day of school. You and Kyle stand side by side, in front of Mr Waterman's desk, careful to keep a distance between you. "Think about how Kyle feels right now-

"I feel like I wanna slit my wrists." He deadpans, face unreadable as ever.

"Do you guys need someone to talk to?" Mr Waterman furrows his eyebrows, lowering his voice.

"No," You say, crossing your arms “Not unless it's to get a gun so I can blow my brains out."

"Okay," He repositions himself to sit taller "Can you please tell me why you don't want to sit next to each other, I'm sure we could work this out." You waste no time trying to get yourself away from Kyle, listing off all of his little habits that annoy you. Kyle, on the other hand, bites his tongue. He didn't want his teacher to think poorly of him, not when there was still a little over a month left of the worst year of school he'd ever put himself through.

"Kyle?" You furrow your eyebrows, waiting expectantly for him to go off on how you were disruptive and rude but he sort of just stood there. For a brief moment, you thought he was having a stroke.

"It's fine," At his words, your mouth goes ajar and your eyes widen. You had thought that the two of you stood in solidarity for one thing, you wanted to get away from each other.

"Is it really?" You say through gritted teeth.

"Yeah," He looks at you then back to Mr Waterman "It's just a childhood rivalry, we're just being immature," It took a lot for him to swallow his pride. Kyle just knew he had to get through June and then senior year would be smooth sailing.

"Well," Mr Waterman says and you can tell he's prepping himself for a speech "It seems to me like the two of you could benefit from this seating arrangement. When you get jobs you won't get along with everyone you work with-

"We both have jobs already," You cut him off and Kyle shuffles awkwardly where he stands while the rest of the class chats idly and waits for the lesson to start.

Mr Waterman casts you a look and clears his throat before picking up where he left off "And I understand that sometimes, personalities clash, but we're a team here, and teamwork requires cooperation and understanding. You both have so much potential, but that potential can only be realized when you learn to work together, to support each other, and to lift each other up, rather than tear each other down."

Kyle's mind must've been somewhere else completely, it was like he was in airplane mode, nodding along to everything Mr Waterman was saying. Though you could feel boredom creeping up, fighting yourself to pay attention to the genuinely useless pep talk.

"I want you to take a moment and think about what it means to be part of a team," Mr Waterman urged, his voice gentle yet persuasive. "Think about the strength that comes from unity, the power that comes from collaboration, and the joy that comes from shared success. Both of you are strong students and I can see you doing very well working together on labs and assignments, okay?"

"Yup," You nod your head, giving a thumbs up so he would excuse you and this would blow over.

"Okay," Kyle says.

A smile forms on Mr Waterman's face, he leans further back into his desk chair. "I think I can sense a friendship forming here, now go take your seats."

You laugh awkwardly, quickly brushing past Kyle to sit in your new spot at the back of the class. You were stuck sitting next to Kyle and behind Eric Cartman, how did he get into AP biology? You weren't one hundred percent sure though you heard Isla say that it was a misplacement that never got corrected.

Once again, Mr Waterman calls the class to capture their attention. Writing about the new unit on the whiteboard in a red dry-erase pen that was squeaky and running out of ink. You ruffle through your backpack, trying to find your binder while everyone else is rapidly taking notes. You pull out a stack of textbooks and some personal reading for English, finally finding your science binder.

"Why are you reading Mein Kampf?" He looks at the book that rests on top of the stack, it's old and beaten up and smells a bit like stale orange juice, the cover holds the jarring image of Adolf Hitler.

"Because I'm racist," You say, sarcastically but Kyle doesn't pick up on this and seems a little taken aback "Joking, obviously, it's for history."

He averts his eyes back to the whiteboard. Mr. Waterman speaks briefly on physiology, before wiping the board clean and unfreezing the projector where he set up a slide show. As most science teachers do, he clicks through the slide show and waits for his students to take notes, answering the few questions that the kids have.

"Shit," You mutter as the teacher skips to the next slide before you could finish copying what was on it. You glance at Kyle "Uh, did you write all of that down?”

Wordlessly, he pushes his paper towards you to copy it, he keeps his eyes trained on the board. His writing was neat, it looked like it could've been a font, each word spaced out almost precisely from the next. Cartman snakes his head around and then moves his entire body when he sees the two of relatively civil.

"Jews got a boner for the junkie," Cartman says, a little louder than intended. Next to him, David looks beyond annoyed, he’s gripping his pencil so tightly that you wouldn’t be surprised if he broke it.

"Shut up, fatass," You and Kyle manage to say in sync before you look at each other in disgust that your thoughts matched up.

"I fucking hate high school." You say under your breath, turning to look back at your notes and pushing his back toward him.

"Me too," Kyle says and you're actually on the same page for a change, you're not sure if you like it.

A/N: I hate this but here it is anyway 😔 I promise it gets more interesting. Open to head cannons and requests rn. Thanks for reading!

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southparkhcsocs · 11 months ago

Text

Stuck in the middle

Part 43

Part 45

Beginning

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weirdducky17 · 6 months ago

Text

‧₊˚ ┊ 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 ┊‧₊˚

ᴀ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

(A/N: Sorry if the characters feel OOC, I'll try to write them as accurately as possible.)

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Amongst the many students mingling around the cafeteria, Team Stan and Team Craig have gathered to their own shared lunch tables like they always did in the everyday school cycle, some oe the cheerleaders also sitting in with them today. Topics were thrown around and subjects coming and going at a fast rate, yet one topic seemed to catch everyone's attention.

"Hey, whatever happened to that list the girls made?" Stan brings up out of the blue as everyone glanced over to him, most in confusion and some in slight familiarity.

"Which one?" Wendy asks as she was the one who was the most aware about the lists that were being mandated by the alliance of girls.

"I think he's talking about the one that got leaked at 4th grade, it was who's cutest boy in our class." Calista explains to her as recognition soon washed over them.

"Oh yeahh, wasn't it like lost just one day?" Tolkien hummed at the thought as most of them did now know how that list disappeared.

"Y-Yeah.. well.." Wendy and Kyle shared a knowing glance towards each other.

"Yeah! I was the chad of the whole class." Clyde boasted rather proudly, adjusting his school jersey as if it were an expensive suit. Craig rolled his eyes at this.

"First, never use the word Chad again to describe yourself. Second, It was pretty obvious it was rigged. The girls just wanted shoes from you." He scoffed as he leaned onto the table on his elbows, a juice box in his hand as he drank it obnoxiously loud to annoy Clyde.

"No it wasn't! Everyone thought I was hot!!"

"Not everyone, let's be honest here." Tolkien gave him a blank stare.

"S-So-Sorry man." Jimmy gave him an apologetic smile.

"Fuck no, you were an uggo Clyde." Cartman says mid bite on a big mac he brought with him to school.

"W-What the hell!!" The brunette teared up at the lack of support from his friends. "G-Girls??" He looked to the feminine side of the table.

"Wellll." Bebe looks away, face scrunched up in slight guilt.

"It was rigged." Wendy tells him, plain and simple.

"What?! It was rigged?!"

"Next time, don't brag about your dad having a shoe store." Kenny snickers at the expense of his friend, watching the dejected Donovan practically melt onto the lunch table in his own misery.

"The actual list at the time was destroyed as far as we know." Red shrugged, not knowing much on how that issue went down.

"Do you guys still make lists?" Stan questions the girls as they all collectively nodded.

"Well yeah, we have nothing better to do. We still have the list committee up and running, Nelly was promoted as the head of it now with Rebecca making sure no corruption or rigging is involved." Wendy explains whilst eyeing Bebe, who shyed away from her intense gaze by looking down at her nails to distract herself.

"Best Outfit of the Day, Which makeup brands are the best, even who has the cutest purse. I, for one, cannot wait for this month's cutest accessories!" Red explains in detail, excited and giddy in her own seat.

"Pretty sure my accessories aren't gonna make the top ten." Calista chuckled as the ladies insisted that accessories can be timeless.

"Are you ladies done chattering?" Cartman cuts in snidely as Wendy shot him a heated glare.

"Are you done making out with that big mac?" She snapped back at him.

"AT LEAST THIS BIG MAC CAN KISS FUCKING BETTER THAN YOU CAN, TESTABURGER! SUCK MY DICK! BACK ME UP STAN!"

"The fuck? No?" Stan looks at him, disgruntled as he wasn't even involved in the fight to begin with.

"That's enough you guys." Kyle sighs, massaging his temples.

"But Kyle!" "But Kahl!"

"It's 10 in the morning, not now." The ginger groaned in protest.

"Says him." Calista snickers quietly as she elbows Kenny next to her, who joined her in the teasing.

"Say, do you guys still make the cutest boys list in class?" Kenny asks her curiously.

"Yeah but that's classified info." She shrugs in response, handing him the rest of her lunch which he gratefully accepted.

"It's under much stricter regulations, it's never gonna get leaked again." Red assures him as Butters looks away from his conversation with Tweek to peer at her.

"Can you tell us who's the top 5 though?" He grinned at her sweetly, trying to pry info out of her with his cutesy nature.

"Nope. Nada. You're not getting anything from us." Bebe huffed with a cross of her arms.

"Come onnn! We have to know!" Butters insisted.

"Ca-Can't say that I'm c-cur-cur-curi— interested in knowing what the new lists are." Jimmy adds onto this happily.

"You guys acted like assholes when it got leaked, fuck no." Wendy shook her head.

"We just wanna know who the ugliest bitch is." Cartman rolled his eyes. "So we know who to mess with in class for being ugly as shit."

"'We' as in you, only you Cartman." Kyle scoffs at this

"People like you Eric... and Clyde—"

"Hey!!"

"—are the reason why we can't release it!" Calista scolds them rather harshly, standing up from her chair and does hand gestures to emphasize her point.

"It'll just get in your head and make you insecure! Kyle tried to burn down the school for christ's sake!"

"You didn't have to mention that.." Kyle groans in embarrassment and shame, burying his face into the palm of his hand.

"My point still stands! We are never releasing the newest results!" She ended the insistence rather swiftly, sitting back down with a huff as Kenny pats her shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Fucking bitch." Cartman mumbled grumpily.

"What was that, Cartman?"

"Fucking nothing!"

"If I were to speculate on who would be in the top 5, Tolkien and probably Stan would be there." Butters brings up to the surprise of everyone.

"Wait huh?" Stan blinks at this.

"Come on Stan, you're popular and part of the football team. Isn't that like the literal definition of attractive in most romance movies?"

"I mean yeah but I don't think I'm cut out for that?" He laughs nervously and scratched his cheek.

"I agree on the Tolkien vote." Calista pipes up from her seat.

"Huh— Cal!" Kyle looks at her in disbelief and slight disappointment.

"What? I'm being honest here." She pouts at this as Kenny pokes her side.

"Why Tolkien though? Besides like being rich."

"Before someone says shit, this is my opinion." She hissed as everyone at the table seemingly leaned in to listen closely to this. Besides Eric who was busy taking food off Kyle's lunch.

"Firstly, yes Tolkien being rich is a big factor. Secondly, tall, dark and handsome has always been a classic among girls—"

"Seriously, Calista?" Craig gave her a deadpanned look, his mouth pulled into a straight line.

"Shut up Craig! Shut! Keep your lips from flapping!"

"Fine! Jesus christ..."

"To continue after I was rudely interrupted, Tolkien is part of the martial arts club. He also has good grades, plus he's a stud and he's dating Nichole!!" Calista exclaims out in emphasis, gesturing to the dark skinned boy who looked flustered but happy from her words.

"W-Wow, thanks dude."

"No problem bro." She hummed in response, exchanging a fist bump with him as the table chattered about her words.

"Yeahh, Cal has a point." Red adds into the conversation with a soft nod of her head.

"D-Dude just got an e-ego-ego boost." Jimmy snickers at how much Tolkien was blushing and also grinning widely.

"Ugh, dude.." Kyle mumbles out in disappointment at her words as Stan pats his shoulder comfortingly, the two seeming to know something the rest do not on why he was affected.

"Chill out Kyle, you're pretty cute yourself. I'd be surprised if you didn't make it the top ten." Calista assures him, unaware about how relieved this made him.

Even if she didn't call him a stud, Kyle was still satisfied about being called cute at least.

Things eventually settled as the new stream of conversation eventually overrides the previous topic. It wasn't long until the school bell rings to indicate that class was about to start and so all the students eventually packed up and left their seats to head towards their individual classes.

⊹ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒦꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The chime of the last school bell rang out and echoed within the halls, indicating the end of classes today for the teenagers of South Park High. Some piled into their friends' vehicles and others taking the school bus to their homes, something strange was happening.

In every stop at a girl's house, they just stood there without a step further even as the school bus drove away to the next house and eventually turned the corner. A white van careening after the bus disappeared and picked up girl after girl, soon making their way towards the rest of the streets to repeat the process.

"What are you doing?" Craig looks towards his cousin who stood idly at the front of their lawn. Confusion evident in his usually blank expression.

"Me and the girls are hanging out at Bebe's house, she's gonna pick me up. Uncle Thomas and Aunt Laura already know." Calista explains rather quickly, holding her yellow, crossbody bag's strap close to her.

"Okay? Just don't stay out late." Craig was still confused but decided to just let her do her thing, not like he could stop her anyways, trudging his way back into his house after a long day of school.

Calista looks away after Craig made his way into their house, standing their quietly with her phone in hand. Text after text was exchanged until a red convertible pulled up just in fromt of her.

"Get in bitch!" Bebe calls out to her in an exaggerated valley girl accent. A pair of cat eyed shades on her face, the same shade as the convertible as she was leaning back in the driver's seat with a hand on the wheel.

"Hey, Cal." Nichole waves from the passenger seat, phone in hand as she was the one that was communicating with her through text.

Calista waves at them, an amused grin on her face, as she made her way towards the car and promptly got into the back seat where Nelly was napping. Making sure not to disturb the sleeping girl, she strapped herself with the seatbelt as the curly haired blonde eventually drove off to their hangout.

⊹ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒦꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It was near dusk in the sleepy town of South Park, most of the residences have already retreated into their houses after the busy day and the town's center had slowed down from the lack of people going in and out from shops.

A red convertible and a white van was parked just in front of Mister Slave and Big Gay Al's house, the vehicles emptied out hours ago. The nearby park looked empty at first but unbeknownst to the residents possessing of a dick, the women's bathrooms were having quite the eventful evening.

"Sunshine sparkle, Annie Knitts has the floor." Nelly calls out.

"If it pleases and sparkles, I suggest that we continue further deliberations about List 384H: which girl has the best haircut on this month of July."

"Annie moves that we should consider futher discussion on List 384H? Does that sparkle with you girls?"

"Sunshine!!"

"Deliberating which girl has the best haircut, Jenny has the floor."

"If it pleases and sparkles, I'd like to submit that due to Allie Nelson's transition to a Hime Cut this month. I vote that she be elevated in her position on the list, even better than Monica's pigtails and Ashley's braids."

"Sparkle, Sunshine. I vote in favor of this submission, I totally think that Allie's hime cut is deserving of the top ten. Plus she dyed the tips of her hair recently so it must have extra points for it to be elevated in its previous ranking."

"Are there more girls who vote to have Allie's hime cut be higher in the ranking of the best haircuts in the month of July."

Several hands were held up, holding up BTS light up sticks that shone a bright green shade to indicate their agreement on this decision.

"Then it is decided that Allie's haircut will be evaluated for its proper spot on the list, while it is not guaranteed it will make it to the top ten, the list committee will be making swift changes to the current ranking. Sparkle, sparkle." A gavel was struck down on its wooden block.

"Sunshine!!"

"Sunshine sparkle, Calista Tucker has the floor."

"If it pleases and sparkles, I'd like to encourage further discussion on List 563C: Who is the cutest boy in class?"

"Sparkle sparkle, Calista submits that we should further discussions of List 563C: Who is the cutest boy in class. Does that sparkle with everyone?"

"Sunshine!!"

"Sunshine sparkle, is there someone you'd like to elevate in terms of ranking on this month's list? Of course girls are still able to apply for more submissions, though I am surprised that you're raising this discussion Calista. You haven't been actively involved in the rankings before, besides voting of course."

"I know that, let's just say I should get more involved after a talk today with my friends."

"Well then, who would you like to appraise for the list rankings?"

"Kyle Broflovski and Kenny McCormick."

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he4rts4alexis · 2 years ago

Text

Have him

About: Kyle and Tolkien's TikToks take up all of you and Kyle time

Kyle x reader

( THIS IS MY FIRST ONE SHOT CUT SOME SLACK)

Waiting at kyle's locker like you always do but this time Kyle's no where to be seen.

You text him

That bastard is always stealing my boyfriend. You know what it doesn't even matte- "oh hey nichole" I say as my thoughts are being interrupted. "Hey y/n what's up" she says excitedly "what all the excitement it's like 8:00 in the morning" I say irritated "bebe's throwing a party this Friday you should come" she stated "I'll think about it" I say "alright have fun bye n/n" "bye Nicki"

*Time skip to second period*

"Hey ky" "oh y/n lemme show you this TikTok me and Tolkien made" "oh sure" "y'know Kyle you and Tolkien have been together for long periods of time you should come with me to the party" "oh um of course I would love to go to the party with you"

"alright I'll text you"

* Time skip to Friday*

23 messages from the group chat there really excited about the party lemme see what they're texting

Seems like everybody's going *buzz* *buzz* 1 message. Who would want to text me now it's probably the group chat

*Time skip to the party*

"hey y/n here have a drink" bebe says "um what's in it?" "Nothing strong see" she says as she downs the whole cup "oh ok thank you" where is Kyle I should text him

Fucking dumbass I'm ready to go home "yo y/n where you going?" Clyde ask "home GOODNIGHT!" I yell.

*Time skip back home*

I'm so tired of his shit Tolkien can have him

What a asshole

THIS IS MY FIRST ONE SHOT IM HALF ASLEEP SO IDEK IM GOING TO HAVE TO READ IT WHEN I WAKE UP BUT I HOPE I DID DECENT

#kyle broflovski #craig tucker #south park #stan marsh #kyle x reader #kyle Broflovski angst #south park x y/n #bebe south park #wendy testaburger #nichole daniels #red mcarthur #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #clyde x reader #south park clyde #tolkien #tweek tweak #south park angst

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l0vergirlatheart · 2 years ago

Text

" VACATION " a south park x reader

RINKY-DINK TOWN || info. - past : next

|| GOOD MORNING, BELOVED! ||

You did not want to come to some rackety, old, boring, snowing, cold, shabby, stupid-ass fucking town for your summer break. Be honest, who would?

Maybe you'll change your mind later on, but right now, this has got to be the stupidest shit you've ever gone through, and that's something, especially when it comes to you.

|| YOUR CHARACTER CARD ||

Name: [Y/N] NIAKI

Age: 16

Pronouns: They/Them

Sexuality: Pansexual, general attraction to anyone regardless of gender. || asexual, no sexual attraction to anyone at all.

Height: 5'11

Personality: Blunt, tired, easily irritated, quiet, occasionally playful, rarely flirtatious.

Current Thoughts: 'Even if I only have to be in this boring and cold place that can barely be called a town for only two months, there's nothing anyone here or anywhere who can convince me to stay the moment I get the chance to leave.'

|| LOVE INTERESTS ||

MAIN CAST

ROMEOS:

Kyle Brovloski

Craig Tucker & Tweek Tweak

Clyde Donovan

Tolkien Black

Kenny McCormick

Stan Marsh

Leopold "Butters" Stotch

Jimmy Valmer

Scott Malkinson

Pip Pirrup

Damien Thorn

Dovahkkiin "Douchebag, The New Kid"

JULIETS:

Wendy Testaburger

Heidi Turner

Bebe Stevens

Red McArthur

Nichole Daniels

Annie Knitts

|| WARNINGS AND TWS ||

Welcome to South Park, my beloved! This story is going to contain mentions of:

LOTS OF SWEARING

GORE AND BLOOD

SUICIDE

SELF HARM

MENTIONS OF POVERITY

ALCOHOL

MAJOR CRIMES

MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ACTIVITES

AGED UP CHARACTERS (YOU ARE ALL STILL MINORS)

BULLYING (ONLINE AND IRL)

HARRASSMENT (ONLINE AND IRL)

VIOLENCE

DARK JOKES N SHIT

CARTMAN PULLING CARTMAN-TYPE SHIT

AND OTHER SHIT YOU'D EXPECT FROM SOUTH PARK.

CONTINUE WITH CAUTION.

|| SECRETS FROM THE AUTHOR ||

Hey there, []! This book has no outline so far and I'm honestly throwing bullshit that I make up at three in the morning at this right now. There's going to be really slow updates. Enough about that though, time for some secrets!!

1. Yep, instead of the overused 'I just moved here, yadda yadda' scenario, you have actually only came here for summer vacation!

2. You were forced to get out of your house by your parents and they set up this whole trip thing without telling you until a week before departing.

3. Your parents didn't have half the mind to tell you that you'd also be living there alone for two fucking months, some parents am I right?

4. Luckily, they did already have your stuff packed and had the house rented out and everything else. You're a freeloader! Yay!

5. Oh yeah also, you're rich. Just because. Use that black card, spend all your money, ain't nobody there to stop you!!

6. Nobody in South Park knows of your soon-to-be arrival.

7. There is no school because, you know, summer vacation. This means a lot more free time to get roped into some crazy and immoral shit laze around.

8. Cartman's going to be a little shit about your pronouns, but he's going to be forced to use them because he has zero fucking clue what your gender is.

9. Speaking of fatass, he's not a love interest mainly because I can't write an asshole character suddenly falling love. I just can't. Makes me want to just evaporate.

10. You will get to at least befriend him though. Yay..?

|| SWEET DREAMS, DARLING. ||

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pyr0x10n · 2 years ago

Text

Rules for requesting!

Hello! So, I’ve been thinking and now I would like to do requests! But please, do follow my rules! And these are my rules

-do not request things such as:

Insest

Pedophilia

Non-con

Basic criteria stuff (Racism, Sexism, Homophobia)

-do request things such as:

Oneshots

Headcanons

Fluff

Angst (maybe)

And just romantic stuff in general

Smut

Characters I will be writing for:

-Kyle Broflovski

-Stan Marsh

-Kenny McCormick

-Craig Tucker

-Clyde Donovan

-Tolkien Black

-Jimmy Valmer

-Tweek Tweak

-Wendy Testaburger

-Bebe Stevens

-Heidi Turner

-Nichole Daniels

-Red McArthur

-Henrietta Biggles

-Micheal Rogers

-Pete Thelman

-Gary Harrison

-Christophe/The Mole

-Gregory of Yardale

-Davíd Rodríguez

-Phillip Pirrup

-Damien Thorn

-Leopold Stotch

-Vampir/ Mike Makowski

-Thomas (the Tourette’s kid)

-Estella Havisham

-Eric Cartman (i put him at the end of the list because I can’t write him in a romantic way, so only platonic)

And if u want them in their Role-playing forms (ex. Human Kite) or some other AU (Ex. scene Kyle) then I’ll write for it!

Requests should look like this (or something similar):

Kenny x fem! reader that loves fashion

Toolshed x villain reader

Please do not request something like

Stan x Kyle x Bebe x Clyde x Kenny x fem reader!

That is way to many people and the didn’t even say if they wanted it to be separate!

My character limit is four, four separate characters.

Anyways, thx for reading and do check my account every once in a while!

#south park #south park smut #south park fluff #south park angst #sp kyle #sp stan #sp kenny #sp craig #sp clyde #x reader #wendy testaburger #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #pyr0x10np0stz!

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moved828376278 · 3 years ago

Note

ACTUALLY... Okay how about the girls (bebe, nicole, wendy, and red) reacting to a guy hitting on their fem s/o 😯

OOOH i LOVE THIS IDEA

THE GIRLS WHEN A GUY HITS ON THEIR FEM S/O!

[ fem reader ]

- got my lesbian heart tingling fr 💓

- wendy isn’t afraid to interfere, but only really does when she sees necessary

- like if they touch you.. no. no.

- type to snatch your hand into hers, claiming she’s feeling sick, just so you both can leave

- she might have to pull a ms. ellen.

- nichole isn’t super concerned. she trusts you and knows you wouldn’t do anything.

- but she doesn’t trust that man.

- just rolls up and throws her arms around your shoulders, nuzzling with you until the guy gets uncomfortable enough to leave

- if you question her she’ll be like “what do you mean baee”

- bebe is definitely more possessive than the others

- she glares DAGGERS at this man

- definitely would just pull you close and kiss you before telling you it’s time to go

- he’s completely flustered, giving you both time to escape

- red isn’t super open about her jealousy- that is, until you leave

- once you go to the bathroom, red will pull the man close, telling him that if he ever even thinks about laying a hand on you, she will destroy his life

- but when you get back she’s all friendly 😊 too cute dude too cute

- when you both leave she definitely kisses you before driving home

#south park x reader #wendy testaburger x reader #red mcarthur x reader #bebe stevens x reader #nichole daniels x reader #south park #kennyphobia

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dreme-inc · 4 years ago

Text

You Wear Their... Two!

South Park preference. Cartman, Kenny, Token, Jimmy, Heidi, and Red (feat. gender-neutral reader).

Honestly, they're all so happy, what can I say? Though, admittedly, Cartman continues being a smug little bug, like- see what I can get and what you singletons don't have, you know? It’s mostly because, somewhere deep down in the depths, small questions tend to pick at him a bit. Is he close to good enough? Do you deserve better and, mostly, does it mean he should let you go? He's naturally insecure on you (someone very great), but when he sees the slightly larger hat on your head, he almost offers you the matching gloves he wears in a heartbeat moment of weakness to your cuteness... Almost.

It’s Kenny’s parka, of course. I picture you in sweats or leggings, whichever is most your style, and he absolutely adores you in it (lightly a little more thirsty, too). In the beginning, he refrained from giving you the puffy orange jacket because, apparently, it’s cursed. As he sees you relaxing in your rooms however, wearing and enjoying because the clothing was his, he vowed to protect you against everything it’d bring (...please don’t leave the house, okay- if something happened because you were wearing the accursed thing, his heart couldn’t take it).

Token loves it, likely more than you both thought. The purple sweater with a buttoned shirt underneath is what I picture, existing so effortlessly fly; it takes his (and everyone else’s, really) breath away. He does a bunch at once, to be honest- hugging you because he can’t resist, assuring it’s yours whenever you want it, and even offering purchasing a match if it’s something you’re interested in. Adorable, both of you.

It isn’t you wearing Jimmy’s clothing necessarily, but one time he had to spend a night in the hospital and you were tasked with bringing his crutches. He needed something to make him smile, you’d think (in addition to you, of course, seeing you never failed to make him happy), so you initially walk into the room hanging onto them to cease any worrying. Then, you use them the rest of the way to the bedside and, without a single word, he’s smiling and laughing. Quite a superpower you’ve got there. “You’re so cu... cuuu- cuuu-... adorable.”

It’s comforting to Heidi. She lost the hat during the entire online fiasco, and it spanned into a few episodes without wearing one. It was after she gradually made some steady improvement she got it back- thanks to you, no less, having found and returned the floral accessory as a celebratory present. Another one to perhaps place it on your head spontaneously one day, she reminisces on what you meant to her during the time whenever she spots it on your head. It was ever easier to get better with you there- she wants to be with you, after all.

Red lends you her coat, like Bebe. It seems you’re one of those couples with the sweet moments without trying- she spots you headed out to the balcony and casually slips the coat from her shoulders. It’s placed on yours with a kiss to the cheek in one smooth move. “...and I- Oh! One sec, guys,” she’d politely interrupt herself, the coat dropping gently onto your shoulders, “Stay warm, babe.” And then casually turns to some smiling friends as you proceed giving her a hug from behind. It’s something else entirely when your relationship makes the people about you smile, too.

#south park imagine #south park imagines #sp imagines #south park x reader #sp x reader #south park preference #south park preferences #eric cartman x reader #kenneth mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #token black x reader #jimmy valmer x reader #heidi turner x reader #red mcarthur x reader

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vikkirosko · 3 years ago

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Since we did the Animatronic AU for the Yandere South Park boys i think we should do the Yandere South Park girls headcanons next.

Animatronic Heidi,Wendy,Bebe,Estella,Red

Headcanons Animatronic

📚Yandere!Wendy Testaburger x Reader📱

You got a job at a pizzeria as a security guard on the night shift. You didn't think it would be difficult. Unless something could happen in an old pizzeria at night? That's exactly what you thought until the strange things started happening at night

Music was turned on throughout the building and you were forced to walk and turn off the music so that there was no extra waste on electricity. You had no idea you were being watched

When you returned to the security room, you found something strange. One of the animatronics was standing in the room. But it was impossible. The animatronics were turned off for the night and you were sure that there was no one in the building except you. But then how could an animatronic get into the office?

You wanted to go for the cart to return the animatronic to its place, but the door slammed in front of you. You tried to open it, but the electronic lock didn't work. There was music behind you. You turned around and saw that the animatronic started coming at you. Wendy won't let you leave her. She will show how much she loves you

💄Yandere! Bebe Stevens x Reader 💞

You liked the pizzeria and you were glad when you got a job there. You were helped to get comfortable at work by another night guard with whom you worked together. He gave you advice and helped you get used to your new job

While your partner was sitting in the security room, you walked around the building to make sure everything was in order. Quite often you stayed in the hall with animatronics and talked to animatronic Bebe. You liked her when you were a kid

Once when you were doing your rounds, you didn't find Bebe in her place. You couldn't figure out what had happened and went to tell your partner about it. But when you came to the security room, you saw something that horrified you. Your colleague was dead. He was lying on the floor with broken bones, as if someone had squeezed him very tightly. You wanted to rush to the phone to call the police, but you heard a mechanical voice behind you. It was the Bebe's voice

"Not worth dear. I only protected you from him. You're safe now. Let me finally embrace you."

🐲Yandere! Red McArthur x Reader🌹

As a child, your parents often took you to the pizzeria. Each time you were scared by one of the animatronics, named Red. She was always nice, but at other times she could be quite rude. It scared you. But when you got older you were forced to get a job at a pizzeria

Every time you passed by Red, it seemed to you that she was looking at you. It made you uncomfortable. You had no idea how close you were to the truth

She was really following you. She tried to catch your every move. She liked you. She would have continued to just watch you if your friend hadn't come to check on you. Looking at the way you were smiling at someone else, she felt jealous

When your friend went to the toilet and didn't come back, you started to worry. You went looking for him, but you never found him. But when you were walking towards the security room, you saw that the curtain of the stage on which Red performed was ajar. You decided that your friend was there and went there. But he wasn't there, and neither was Red. It scared you. But when you turned around to run to the security room, you saw Red. She was standing in your way. You didn't have a chance to be saved anymore

🌸Yandere! Heidi Turner x Reader🧣

You've heard a lot of rumors that strange things happened in the pizzeria. You got a job there precisely to find out if the rumors are true. You took a video camera with you to capture all the nights that you will spend in the old pizzeria

When you heard someone crying at night, you tensed up. You went in search of the source of the sound, but you couldn't find where the crying was coming from. You were sure you weren't imagining it. You reviewed the recordings of your video camera and were sure that it wasn't your imagination

You returned to the security room, but after a while you heard something strange again. It was a woman's voice. It was as if someone was calling for help. You hurried to go looking again. You weren't sure if it was a real person or one of the ghosts that lived there, but you were going to find the source of the voice

Finally you were able to find the room from where you heard the voice. It was a room where animatronic spare parts were stored, but there was no one there except the animatronic Heidi. When you entered the room, the sounds stopped. You couldn't understand what was going on, but when you headed out of the room, you heard the same voice again. The voice asked you not to leave. A second later, you felt like you were being dragged somewhere. You tried to scream, but your mouth was clamped with a mechanical palm. In the morning, the only thing they'll find will be your video camera

👒Yandere! Estella Havisham x Reader 🪵

You didn't want to work as a night security guard, but you were forced to take this job for personal reasons. You tried not to leave the security room, going only to the vending machine for coffee so as not to fall asleep. It was unusual for you to stay up so late

You had no idea you were being watched. One of the animatronics, Estella, looked at you every time you left the security room. Every time you passed by her, you greeted her just so you wouldn't feel lonely. Every time you talked to her, she felt that you needed her. She needed you

When you went for coffee again, you noticed that she wasn't there. You're tense. You took the coffee and went to the security room to look for her on the cameras, but someone hit you on the head in the corridor. You lost consciousness. Your body fell to the floor

Estella took your unconscious body to a comorka where no one will find you. She wasn't going to let you go. She needed you too much to let you go

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serenity-songbird · 3 years ago

Note

Ummm I’ve never fainted before but the post was super cute and funny!! Could you do one like that but platonically for the girls like all together? Like reader is a girl in their friend if that makes sense. (Feel free to ignore!!)

(Terrible picture quality is terrible. 😵😵😵)

The girls were protective of you.

They knew of your condition so, they always made sure you were okay.

Wendy could be a bit overbearing at times, but she means well.

Always asking if you're okay and need anything.

She is just afraid you'll faint and get hurt.

Bebe is a bit more chill.

She'll let you sleep on top of her.

Her chest is soft like a pillow and it's comfy.

Bebe will glare at any male who looks at you in a way she doesn't like.

Imagine red demon eyes and a dark aura around her.

She scares them away.

Nicole is usually the first to notice if you're feeling dizzy and will have you sit down.

She'll signal to Heidi, who will bring you water and ice packs if you're feeling hot.

Red will go get the school nurse.

They just want to make sure you are safe and healthy.

If you ever did faint, I feel like they all panic.

Like literally code red.

You think it's silly but they have a whole procedure in case it ever does happen.

Wendy came up with it, of course.

Although in the first minute in the moment they will freak out before remembering the plan. It ends up coming in handy.

Especially, when you had hit your head on the corner of the desk. 😬😬😬

Red started crying.

She doesn't know why she was crying. I mean, you're fine.

She was just like, "Wh-what do I dooo???"

Overall, the girls just really care about you and just want you to be okay.

You love your best friends.

#south park headcanons #sp style #south park x reader #south park #wendy testaburger #heidi turner #nicole daniels #bebe stevens #red mcarthur

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hunnysnoops · 6 months ago

Text

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Twelve: Slip of the Tongue

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

You make me feel like I've done wrong. Slip of the tongue. I've taken it back, what's done is done.

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: After running for years, your legs finally give out.

Warnings: Blood / crude language and humour

MASTERLIST

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

You've been avoiding Kyle ever since that almost kiss. The memory of that moment hangs in your mind like the smell of rain after a storm, making you feel awkward and unsure every time you think about it. Right now, you're pacing around your bedroom, trying to focus on anything but him. The soft hum of your computer and the comforting clutter of your room usually help, but today, they don't.

You walk back and forth, your feet hitting the hardwood floor with each step. You had skipped dinner to eat at your desk to scroll online forums and try to figure out what to do. Every time your family went to visit the Broflovskis, you would fake an illness to avoid the thing you dreaded most.

It didn't help that summer would be drawing to a close and the days until school started were cutting down. The whole thing made you nervous. You had blocked him on everything the moment your phone had service again.

It wasn't Kyle himself that made your stomach churn, the thought of being vulnerable almost caved your head in.

The posters on your walls seem to mock you with their silent, unchanging presence. You run your fingers through your hair, your mind replaying that day over and over. The way he leaned in, the way your heart pounded, and the way you pulled back at the last second. It's all too much.

Usually, you weren't one to be this fragile but walking circles in your bedroom, you cradled yourself like a glass statue. It was like you might shatter at the thought of being honest.

You hoped that you cranked your music up loud enough that no one in the house could hear you frantically pacing. You were sure the inside of your mouth was mangled from the amount you had been chewing on your cheek for the past week and a half.

It was clear you weren't good at processing your emotions, it wasn't a skill you ever learned growing up and now you suffered greatly for it. You were so aware of everything but didn't know how to put your thoughts into words like they were knotted and caught in your throat.

The last guy you dated ended horrifically in tenth grade, due to your lack of being able to articulate feelings; Jason had been crying on the edge of his bed and you stood awkwardly watching him like he was a zoo animal. You almost wanted to scream in your blue and white striped boxer shorts and the very T-shirt you got when you went to the concert with Kyle.

The heat outside was almost insufferable and creeping its way into your bedroom since your dad refused to turn on the AC and duct taped the thermostat so neither you or your brother would raise the bill hence the very mismatched outfit you were wearing. Bebe's cherry-patterned scrunchie was still on your wrist from the late-night fast food drive you endured the night prior.

The way he leaned in, the way your heart pounded, and the way you ducked down at the last second. It's all too much. You like Kyle, really like him, but the thought of being vulnerable and what a relationship might do to your family terrifies you. All you needed was the rest of the summer to make up your mind.

Suddenly, your dad's voice breaks through your thoughts and the loud music that was almost blowing out your eardrums, calls up the stairs. "Jellybean, Kyle's here for you!"

Panic sets in, like ice water coursing through your veins. Your heart races, and you feel a lump in your throat. The last thing you want is to face him now. You glance around your room frantically, your eyes landing on the open window. Without a second thought, you scramble to your feet and head for it.

Your hands tremble as you push the window open wider, the warm breeze hitting your face. You lean out, gauging the drop to the ground. It's a long fall, but the hedge below looks like it might cushion you. You swing one leg over the sill, feeling the rough edge of the window frame against your thigh. Your breath quickens as you pull the other leg over, now perched precariously on the edge.

For a moment, you hesitate, looking back into the familiar comfort of your room. Your feet find purchase on the small ledge below, and you inch your way down, body pressed close to the house. Your hands scramble for the drain pipe immediately. You weren't close to the ground but you were once again wild and desperate.

Shuffling along the edge, you see your neighbour pause where he mows his lawn to watch you. You force a smile and wave to him like this is an everyday activity. You can hear thumps sounding upstairs by your room, Kyle's car is parked out front, your own is stuck behind your mother's and without waiting another beat you grab the drain pipe with your other hand as well to keep you steady as you awkwardly slide down.

You thought for a moment that the pipe might rip from the house and send you spiralling to the ground but between the chance of falling to the lawn or getting caught in this act, you chose the former.

You land with a soft thud, the hedge rustling beneath you. The impact sends a jolt through your body, but you barely notice. Quickly, you crawl out of the hedge, branches scratching your arms, and crouch behind it, your heart pounding in your ears. You listen intently, waiting to see if Kyle or your dad will come looking for you. You can hear a knock on your bedroom door until it inevitably creaks open.

Knowing you can't stay here, you gather your courage and glance around to make sure no one has seen you. You slip through the side yard, the grass damp under your feet, and break into a run. Your neighbour still watches you, his wife joining him on the lawn where they try to decode exactly what you're doing. The world seems to narrow down to the sound of your rapid breaths and the pounding of your feet against the pavement.

In the moment you weren't sure where you were headed and began to think of all those who live close to you- Wendy. You knew she was home, she sent you a picture of her cat only minutes before your grand escape.

Growing up you were always told the best way to win a fight is to not be in one, this felt similar. You knew that no matter what this would end up in an argument with Kyle but not if you were able to outrun it until it simmered out like none of it happened at all.

The pavement was undoubtedly cutting your feet, maybe you should've thought ahead and kept a pair of shoes in your room for situations like this, albeit not very common. You had more adrenaline in your veins than when you had faced life or death at the paws of a raccoon.

As you run, you wish for nothing more than a cigarette, just something to take the edge off so you aren't shaking with nerves. You thought about what Kyle would do or what he had done when he was that you had disappeared from your bedroom. What would your dad do? Probably assume that you had left hours before and he didn't notice.

Finally, Wendy's house comes into view. Relief floods through you, giving you a final burst of energy. You sprint the last few yards, your breath coming in short gasps as you reach her front door, your chest heaving. You knock urgently, praying she's home. After what feels like an eternity, the door swings open, and Wendy's concerned face appears.

"What's wrong?" she asks, taking in your flushed face and frantic eyes. She was wearing a purple cardigan overtop of her denim shorts and white tank top, he silky black hair pulled away from her face in a claw clip that matched her small silver hoop earrings. She looked a lot more cohesive than you did.

You take a deep breath, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Kyle almost kissed me at the lake when we were swimming in our underwear. I think he was going to, but I pulled away. The next morning he didn't bring it up but he kept smiling and trying to hold my hand and giving me stuff and I didn't know what to do! You know I don't know what to do, I'm not nice like his other girlfriends. I just got really freaked out and stopped talking to him and after we went home I blocked him on everything and I haven't seen him since. He was so sweet it's making my teeth rot. And now he's at my house, and I don't know what to do. I like him, Wendy, but I'm so scared. I'm a ruiner, I'll ruin everything and he'll go back to hating me and I'll just see him once a year around the holidays with his wife and kids and I'll just be so bitter staring at him and just thinking 'What if?' like what if I was the one who went to house warming parties with him but I won't because I couldn't sort myself out in highschool but then there's if I do tell him it's just a crazy cycle of it never working out and there's always going to be that unspoken thing between us of what was almost there. My dad told me he was there to see me and I fucking scaled the side of my house and ran here barefoot just so I wouldn't have to see him."

"Oh my god," Wendy mutters "Okay, it's fine, just calm down a bit and we can talk in my room," She gently grabs your bicep to guide you up the stairs.

You nod, beginning to follow her though your eye catches on a black mop of hair peaking over the back of the couch. You freeze "Hey, Stan," You clear your throat in an attempt to sound casual

Slowly, he turns his head to look at you, his face still and unreadable "Hey."

"Who- uh, are you texting?" You try for a friendly smile but it comes across as looking a little psychotic.

He stays quiet, placing his phone on the coffee table slowly, his eye contact not moving from yours. "No one."

"Do you mind if I see your phone really quick?" You approach him steadily, forcing yourself or at least trying to be calm.

"Yeah, I do mind."

The phone dings "Stan, don't look at that message- hey," You point a finger at him like he's a toddler and you're trying to keep him away from an electrical fire. "Stan, I'm not fucking around.”

Before Stan can grab his phone, you dive for it, snatching it off the table and backing away from Stan while you read them, quickly skimming over the messages between him and Kyle. It wasn't brief, Stan had of course informed his best friend about the obscene amount of information you dumped onto Wendy and that you were there. "What the fuck?" You turn to look at him.

"He's my best friend," Stan defends himself. "Can you please give me my phone back, dude?" You take it upon yourself to type out a quick message for Kyle from Stan, along the lines of 'I hope you die, lose this number' before dropping the phone on an armrest and heading for the laundry room at the speed of sound.

Wendy was uncommonly at a loss for words, eyes shooting between Stan gripping his hair while he read what you sent and you tearing the laundry room apart.

"You traitor asshole cunt!" You shout while rummaging through the dryer. The clothes inside were still fresh and warm, you grab the first two socks you see, one of them a bright red knee-high sports sock, the other one is ankle length and covered in little prints of puppies. You didn't care, yanking them on over your feet while you hop to the shoe rack. "Wendy, which pair do you care about the least?"

"Maybe the boots-

Before she could even finish her sentence you were pulling on the brown leather cowboy boots that were mid-length on your shins "I'll bring these back later!" You yell, running back out the door. "Love you, Wendy. kill yourself, Stan!"

While running away from Wendy's without bothering to shut the door, you fumble for your phone and try to dial up Red whilst manoeuvring around trash bins and bikers so you don't take yourself out.

"Hey," Red's voice comes through, light and lazy. "Why are you calling me? You never call me."

"It's honestly so fucked up, I might throw up if I talk about it," You pant into the phone, a little short-breathed from the excess cardio while you ran nowhere in particular "Essentially, I hate Stan Marsh as of now."

"What an asshole," Red says. The two of you were like the blind leading the blind. You didn't need to give her an in-depth backstory, if you said you hated someone then she hated them too "Fuck him, where are you?"

"Running away from Wendy's," You look around for some sign of where you are, spotting a traffic sign over an intersection "Uh- I'm on Walden."

"Are you actually running?"

"Yes!"

"How bad is your situation?"

"So bad, dude."

"Like bad for a normal person or bad for you because you kinda think everything is awful," You can hear the sound of a huge splash and cheering over the line.

"It's actually bad this time," You failed to mention that you screwed yourself over.

"Okay, well, I'm not far off Walden right now," She moves the phone away from her to mutter a question to someone else "I'm pre-gaming with some friends, it's getting kinda crazy-" She stops mid-sentence to laugh at something, you can hear the smile in her voice "I'll send you the address. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay, thanks," You utter, hanging up and copying the address into your phone. Your head would swerve around to be sure Kyle's car wasn't in sight.

The destination wasn't far from your initial spot. The neighbourhood seemed unusually quiet for a street that was supposed to be housing a rager. The houses are quaint, with well-manicured lawns and the soft glow of porch lights flickering as dusk settles in. You glance at the address Red sent you again, reassuring yourself that you're in the right place.

Slowly you approach the house, a charming two-story with a wide front porch adorned with potted plants and a welcome mat that reads 'WELCOME wait, who did you vote for?'

Feeling a bit uncertain, you decide to call Red, phone pressed to your ear as you walk up the front steps. She answers on the second ring, her voice bright over the sounds of music and chatter in the background. "What's up, whore? where are you?"

"Are you sure this is the right address?"

"Yeah, we're in the backyard, just let yourself in," She says through static. On the other end you can hear laughing and shouting, she excuses herself before hanging up.

With confidence slightly restored, you push the door open, immediately met by the sound of laughter carrying through the home. The scent of home-cooked food fills the air—roast chicken, freshly baked bread, and something sweet and cinnamon-y you can't quite place. Children dart around your legs, laughing and chasing each other, while an older couple sits on a couch, reminiscing over a photo album.

As you make your way through the house, your eyes widen in surprise when you notice a collection of shotguns mounted on the wall. Your heart skips a beat, and a wave of nervousness washes over you.

"Who are you and why are you in my home?" You hear a gruff voice from behind you and turn to see an alarmingly large man. He was taller than anyone you had seen, with a bald shiny head, and muscles bulging out of his white polo.

You glance past him and notice the decorations—a banner that reads 'Happy Family Reunion!' strung across the living room, balloons bobbing gently in the corner, and framed photos of smiling faces you don't recognize lining the walls.

In the living room sits a large group of people, almost every single one blonde, they all stare at you from wherever they are in the room. Glancing back at the threatening display of guns and the photo of the man in front of you happily smiling while he holds up the corpse of a deer, you fumble for an answer "The entertainment, your wife hired me."

"My wife passed away last year."

"Oooohhhhh my god," You mutter and your eyes widen slightly but you make it a point to stay relaxed "That's what I am, she spoke to me from beyond the grave and guided me here, she has messages for you."

He looks like he's about to say something but a woman shoots up from the coach, a sharp exhale escaping through her lips. "What did she say?" Her eyes are wide, her face in shock as she beckons you into the living room.

With a dramatic flair, you place your hand on your forehead and close your eyes. "I'm getting a strong feeling," you say, your voice low and mysterious. This was your absurd and desperate attempt not to end up like the deer in the photo. It didn't help that you were dressed like a blind child who picked their own clothing.

The family members around you fall silent, watching with curious expressions. You open your eyes slowly, pretending to gaze into a distant realm. "I see... a long journey ahead for someone in this room," you continue, pointing vaguely.

A woman wearing a turquoise blouse leans forward eagerly, careful not to spill her wine. "Really? What else do you see?"

You touch your hands to your head and close your eyes, furrowing your brows the same way you had seen fortune tellers do it in the movies "I'm getting the letter N, is there an N name anywhere here?"

Someone raises her hand, eyebrows drawing in slight worry "I'm Nancy."

You open your eyes and point at her "Nancy, you are going to suffer a terrible and painful death."

Nancy squeaks, a hand flying over her mouth while a man gently rubs soothing circles on her back. Everyone stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue with eager eyes. "Keep going," The man urges you.

"I see flying, wings- no! A plane," You say opening your eyes "Does anyone have a trip coming up?"

An older man raises his hand "My wife and I are going to Quebec."

"Why would you go to Quebec on purpose?" You wrinkle your nose, muttering before getting back in character "Cancel your trip or you will get diseased and you will die."

Gasps sound from the mini crowd in front of you, each of them murmuring to another. "What will happen in Quebec?"

"An evil French Canadian waiter will spit in your drink and will give you herpes."

They gasp again "How would herpes kill me?"

You shrug "You will die for unrelated reasons but you will regret Quebec on your deathbed."

"What do you see for me?" A woman asks, a long floral sundress cascades down to her ankles. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her striking blue eyes shake you to your core.

"I see a man in an army uniform, yes, he has short hair, wait-no, it's not an army uniform, it's a prison uniform. You will marry a convicted felon," You say simply, giving her a little smile.

A woman with a necklace that reaads 'Sarah' looks at you, her eyes wide with fascination. "What about me? Can you see anything for me?"

You nod, feeling more confident in your role. "I see... a new opportunity coming your way, something related to your passion," you say, seeing a photo of her on the wall at a book signing with an author you didn't recognize. "It will be challenging, but very rewarding."

"Oh my goodness," Sarah smiles, nudging the girl next to her.

With every passing second, you just wanted to leave more and more, the stress only continued to build as lies spilled from your lips. You look at the walls, so many photos of the family going to church and spending Christmas together, one of them in a manger, dressed for the nativity. "I see something divine."

At your words, everyone is captivated once more. They were hanging on every word like it was gospel, sipping their glasses of wine and bottles of beer.

"It's holy- yes, very holy," You nod, eyes pressed shut while you randomly gesture into the air in front of you. You gasp sharply, one hand going to your heart "It's a message from the son of the lord!" You exclaim.

"What did he say?" One of the women sits up, the same one who insisted you (a stranger) entertain them by reading their fortunes "Tell me now, please."

"Jesus is going to be in Nashville on September 11th," You lower your hands from your head.

The room falls quiet, only hushed whispers between a handful of people "Jesus is gonna be in Tennessee on 9/11?" The buff man asks.

"Um, yeah, yup, that is what I said," Now do you realize what you said and all you can do is pray he doesn't take one of those guns on the wall and stuff you like taxidermy.

"Whose ready for drinks?" A woman comes in with a smile, carrying a little tray of shot glasses. Looking closer at the glasses you can see each of them with a little print of the confederate flag on top.

"Oh my god," You mutter under your breath and cough to hide your panic. Thinking quickly, you grip your hair with one hand, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your free hand grasp at the air "That's it..." You say, quietly "The void has gone black."

Some of them sound disappointed, others indifferent but one particular skeezy man catches your attention. You hadn't noticed him watching the entire thing all eery like he had been lurking in the shadows.

"Actually," You say. The lanky man stands against a wall, nursing a beer bottle and grinning at you in a way that makes you squirm. His hair is so greasy that you thought you could've fried a fish on it, on top of his blue jeans there are little crusty white stains, a suspicious wet spot in an unfortunate area. You point at him "Check his hard drive."

You don't want to spend another second in that room, quickly you dash away while the attention turns on the creepy man. Back down the corridor, the same way you came in, you pass decoration that is very telling to the family's nature, you missed it completely on the way in.

While scurrying out of the house, you pass the liquor cabinet. Snatching a black leather purse off the counter and dumping out the contents, you look around and quickly squat down. You almost feel bad stealing then look above the cabinet to see the confederate flag hung beneath a sleek frame then you don't feel so bad.

Quickly and quietly, you slip a bottle of whiskey and another vodka into the bag. Just as before you shut the cabinet, you glance around once more and snatch the fancy tequila in the blue, white, and yellow bottle, intricate designs over the glass. You couldn't show up to a party empty-handed.

Just as you reach the lawn without being caught, your phone rings in your pocket. To no surprise, it's Red "Hey, I totally gave you the wrong address."

"Oh, really?" Sarcasm drips from your tone as you continue moving, looking back at the house.

"Yeah, so- we're on our way to the party, we can meet there if you want the address."

"Are you going to send me to a rednecks house again?"

"No, what the fuck happened?" She asks, tone shifting slightly.

"I'll tell you when I get there," You exasperate, picking up your pace. "Just send me it- no, turn on your damn location and I'll find you, okay?"

“Oki doke, whatever you wanna do," She mumbles into the phone, sending you a link and hanging up.

You glance at her location. Red really wasn't far if you took a shortcut and didn't have to go all the way around the streets. If you could cut through two backyards, you were basically there.

You turn down a narrow alley, the dim light casting long shadows from the overhanging branches. The smell of freshly cut grass mingles with the faint aroma of a barbecue, and you find a low fence that seems easy enough to climb over. You hoist yourself up, swinging one leg over, then the other, and drop softly onto the other side.

As you straighten up, you realize you've landed in the middle of a children's birthday party. Brightly coloured balloons are tied to chairs, streamers hang from the trees, and kids in costumes are running around, shrieking with laughter. The juxtaposition of the chaotic, cheerful scene against your inner turmoil is almost surreal.

Before you can backtrack, a woman in her late thirties with a stern expression approaches you. She is carrying a plate of cupcakes, and her brow furrows as she takes in your dishevelled appearance.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" she asks, her tone sharp and unwelcoming.

"Mommy, is that a bad person?" One of the little girls points at you, her lip trembling.

"Really? A bad person? That is so corny."

"Excuse me," The mother grabs her daughter, pulling her close to her while staring at you with furrowed eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"I'm your worst nightmare," You say though everyone stares at you, some of them reaching for their phones to call for help "Kidding, I just have really poor humour."

"Is she homeless?" The daughter looks up to her mother, eyes wide and her voice squeaky.

"That's just rude, man, like straight up," You shake your head slightly "You should teach your kid some manners."

"I will not have someone on drugs tell me how to raise my child," Her voice rises.

"I am not on drugs, for once, actually," You say and regret it the second it's out.

"Leave," She says plain and firmly. You didn't need to dissect her words to figure out why she didn't want you there.

"Yeah, okay," As you turn to leave, your eyes fall on the plate of cupcakes the woman is still holding. They look delicious, and in a moment of defiance and impulse, you reach out and grab one.

"Mommy, she's taking a cupcake," A little boy wearing a Bluey shirt says. His voice is whiney and his little potbelly spills from the short.

"Look at you, I don't think you need any more cupcakes," You retort.

"You have a big head," He puts his pudgy hands on his hips.

You lick some frosting from the top of the cupcake "Yeah? Well, you're fat so good luck in high school."

The woman's eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger, but she doesn't say anything as you quickly back away, cupcake in hand. You make your way toward the gate at the far end of the yard, feeling the weight of their stares on your back.

Leaving the gate of the backyard party behind, you step back onto the sidewalk, your senses heightening with each step. The cool evening air brushes against your skin, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and faint hints of barbecue smoke from neighbouring houses. The repetitive sound of Wendy's cowboy boots tapping against the pavement echoes in the stillness, punctuated only by the occasional chirp of crickets.

You quicken your pace, driven by a mix of urgency and nervous energy. Your feet move with purpose, yet the path seems to stretch endlessly before you. The streetlights cast elongated shadows, flickering slightly as they illuminate your way. You pass rows of tidy houses, their windows glowing warmly, each one a silent witness to the private lives within.

With each stride, your thoughts race. The embarrassment of crashing the children's birthday party lingers in your mind, mingling with the apprehension of facing Kyle.

You take a sharp turn down a narrow, tree-lined street. The leaves rustle gently above you, creating a soothing canopy that momentarily eases your racing heart. You glance up, catching glimpses of the darkening sky through the foliage, the first stars beginning to twinkle.

Your breathing steadies, matching the rhythm of your footsteps. You focus on the sound, using it to ground yourself, to keep the swirling emotions at bay. Each step forward feels like a small victory, a deliberate choice to move past the fear and confusion.

The houses become less familiar as you venture deeper into the neighbourhood, the route to the party becoming clearer in your mind. You check your phone for the address, the glow of the screen illuminating your face. The party is only a few blocks away now, and you feel renewed.

You move with more ease, your steps lighter despite the weight of your emotions that clung to your heels like mud. The distant sound of music and laughter guides you, growing louder with each passing minute.

Finally, you turn a corner and see the house, festooned with strings of lights that glimmer in the fresh darkness and the unmistakable buzz of a gathering in full swing. The sun had just finished setting and you made it. Salvation at last.

The house is packed with people, the pulse of the music vibrating through the walls and floor. The laughter and conversations swirl around you, but your thoughts keep drifting back to that moment by the lake, the way Kyle's hand felt warm in yours, the look in his eyes before you backed away.

You spot a group of friends near the kitchen and make your way over, joining their animated discussion. You laugh at their jokes and nod at their stories, but it's all a bit of a blur. Your mind is elsewhere, caught in a loop of what-ifs and maybes.

"Oh my god, hey!" Nichole smiles brightly though it falters when her eyes rake up your body "Why are you dressed like an escaped felon?"

"It'll make me mad if I talk about it," You say simply and pass her to grab a diet Coke from the fridge.

"What happened?" Annie asks "Red was telling me that there was a thing going on with Stan and you were running from the cops or something." Both of them are done up well, Annie had straightened her hair and Nichole has taken hers out of her braids after months.

"I'm not running from anyone," You place the leather purse on the kitchen island and begin taking the bottles of liquor out, your friend's eyes widening at the seemingly never-ending supply.

"You are seriously freaking me out right now," Nichole says, picking up one of the bottles and reading the alcohol percentage "Where did you get this?"

"Don't worry about it," You wave it off.

"Who's purse is that?" She asks again, eyes narrowing at the black leather.

You shrug, taking a swig of your Diet Coke, it was lukewarm but you still preferred it to the liquor that would surely amplify your awful state and leave you feeling more paranoid than you already were. "Yours if you want it," You push the bag toward her.

Nichole picks it up, eyes widening as she inspects it "Is this a real Birkin?"

"Shit," You suck a sharp breath through your teeth "I dunno, is it?"

Annie quickly looks over, "Oh my god!" She squeals, eyes lighting up as she leans close to Nichole to look at the bag. She's wearing a pink tank top and low-waisted jeans, effortlessly pretty "Where the hell did you find this?"

"I thrifted it." You lie nonchalantly.

"I can actually keep this?" Nichole holds it close to her chest, hugging it almost protectively. She was in denim shorts and a yellow bikini top though you weren't sure she would even go in the pool.

"Yeah, I don't care," You did care a little. If it was a big deal to them you couldn't imagine the bag you had stolen was cheap and wanted to keep it away from you, the faux fortune teller who interrupted a family reunion.

"Are those Wendy's boots?" Annie furrows her eyebrows, looking down at your shoes while Nichole jumps happily up and down with her new bag.

"Yeah, I had to stop at her place earlier."

"Why didn't you just drive with her?"

"What?" Your face drops.

"Yeah, she should be here soon," Annie brushes a strand of hair away from her face, revealing large golden hoop earrings.

"With Stan?" You ask, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

You're caught off guard by someone nudging your arm, there stands Tolkien smiling at the three of you "Hey, I didn't know you were coming."

"Me neither," You answer, truthfully. You didn't even know whose house you were at, you just assumed that you probably wouldn't know them anyway.

Tolkien's eyebrows furrow as he looks down at your choice of clothing. You brace yourself for another insult but are met with another response "I think Kyle's wearing the same shirt, did you guys match on purpose?"

"Excuse me?" You poke your head out of the kitchen and glance around, noticing something that sends a fresh wave of embarrassment through you. Both of you are wearing the same band T-shirt. You glance down at your shirt, the familiar logo staring back at you, then look up at Kyle, who seems like he hasn't noticed you yet. He talks animatedly to a couple of people you aren't familiar with. "Tolkien, I need you to switch shirts with me."

"What?" He raises an eyebrow "Are you crazy?"

"Yes!" You say, scuttling deeper into the kitchen to be sure he can't see you "Please?"

"No way, dude."

"Annie?" You turn your attention to her.

She wrinkles her nose at the print of the rotting zombie on your band shirt, it wasn't even close to her style "I'm okay."

Nichole wasn't even wearing a shirt and she was more tuned in to the observation of her purse than you once again avoiding Kyle. "Fuck," You mutter, carefully exiting the kitchen without another word.

You moved through the crowded rooms with a purpose, your eyes scanning for any sign of Kyle. Each time you caught a glimpse of him, you quickly altered your path, slipping into different groups of friends and striking up conversations to blend in. The music thumped loudly, and laughter and chatter filled the air, but your mind was solely focused on staying out of Kyle's line of sight.

After what felt like the hundredth near-miss, you decided you needed to change your shirt. The idea of matching with Kyle was driving you crazy, and you hoped a new shirt would help you blend in and avoid awkward questions.

Your first thought is to find Kenny, he was probably there and would switch shirts with you, no questions asked but he wasn't answering your messages so your eyes landed on Adam. You ran track together and joked around on occasion "Hey, Adam," You say sweetly "Can you switch shirts with me?"

"No, I don't like you," He shakes his head, going right back to his conversation.

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows "I thought we were friends."

"We're not friends, I hate you," he says, agitation clear in his voice. His leg had healed from the horrific injury three months prior. Thinking back to the way you hadn't visited him after his leg snapped in half and how eager you were to replace him, you couldn't really call this out of the blue.

"Wow, jeez, okay," You mutter, turning away. Eye searching the crowd for other people that you knew. "Hey, Butters!" You wave at him.

"Oh, hey," He looks up with a smile.'

"Do you think you could swap shirts with me?" You had your fingers crossed he would say yes.

"Well that's a really neat shirt and all but I don't think my dad will be super happy if I come home in girl clothes," Butters tells you. He seems somewhat nervous, pulling on each of his fingers one by one to crack them.

"Okay, thanks anyway, man," You give him a quick pat on the shoulder. "Betsy, hey, can you please please switch shirts with me?"

Betsy gives you an odd look, glancing down at her own outfit. "Sorry, I kind of like my shirt."

Each answer was more or less the same with the more people you asked. "Sophie, can we swap shirts?"

She looks up from her phone, puzzled. "Why do you want to change shirts in the middle of a party?"

Frustration mounting, you continued your search until you spotted an open bedroom door down the hall. You slipped inside, closing the door softly behind you. The room was dimly lit, a cozy hideaway from the party chaos. Your eyes landed on a pile of clothes haphazardly thrown on a chair, and you quickly began to sift through them.

Your fingers brushed against a large, oversized lavender button-up shirt. It wasn't exactly your style, but it would do the job. It looked like it belonged to a morbidly obese man, even then you imagined it would be over-sized on him. You slipped the button-up on over your t-shirt. The fabric was soft and cool against your skin, the oversized fit providing a sense of comfort like you were a child again who was playing dress up in her parents closet.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, rolling up the sleeves to make the shirt fit a bit better. It was a drastic change from the band T-shirt, but that was exactly what you needed. With a deep breath, you left the bedroom, hoping no one noticed your impromptu outfit change.

This desperation to separate yourself from Kyle was past ridiculous. Why did you hate Kyle in the first place? He was so perfect it made you froth at the mouth with jealousy like you were some dog trying to behave better than him.

There was no way to clear your mind, you felt like you needed a dozen energy drinks just to get a single coherent thought.

You made your way through the crowded house, dodging groups of partygoers with practiced ease. As you headed towards the bathroom, the pulsating music and loud chatter blurred into the background. You reached the door and found it slightly ajar, the sound of muffled voices coming from inside. With a deep breath, you pushed it open, stepping inside without hesitation.

The dimly lit bathroom was small and cramped, one brunette girl held her friend's blonde hair back while she heaved into the toilet. They barely noticed you as you closed the door behind you, the brunette cast you an apologetic glance. You felt a brief pang of awkwardness, but you brushed it aside, your goal clear in your mind.

You moved quickly to the medicine cabinet above the sink, avoiding eye contact with the couple. Your hands trembled slightly as you opened the cabinet, scanning the shelves for the familiar bottle of caffeine pills. The girl's constant gagging and sobs echoed through the bathroom but you chose to ignore it.

Finally, you spotted the bottle, hidden behind a few other containers. You grabbed it, the cool plastic smooth against your fingers. The couple shifted slightly, and you caught a glimpse of them in the mirror- the brunette gently rubbed soothing circles on her friend's back, uttering hushed affirmations. You unscrewed the cap, shaking out far too many pills into your palm before quickly closing the bottle and returning it to its spot.

With a practiced motion, you popped the pills into your mouth and swallowed them dry, the bitter taste lingering for a moment. You took a deep breath, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon and give you the energy boost you desperately needed.

Leaving the bathroom, you step back into the throbbing energy of the party, the caffeine pills already making your hands tremble slightly. You hoped they would help you focus and regain control, but instead, you felt even more jittery and on edge.

As you weave through the crowd, the buzz of conversation and laughter feels overwhelming. Your mind races, unable to settle on any one thought for more than a few seconds. Your eyes dart around the room, and then you see him- Kyle, standing near the kitchen, talking to another girl.

She's leaning in close, her hand lightly resting on his arm, and he's smiling in that charming way that always makes your heart skip a beat. A fresh wave of jealousy crashes over you, stronger than before. The caffeine isn't helping to clear your thoughts; it's only making you more anxious and jittery.

You knew that you didn't have a right to get between him and this girl, especially after you had dodged him for days on end like he was a disease you were desperate not to catch.

You try to take a deep breath, to calm yourself, but it feels impossible. Your mind is a chaotic whirl of emotions and half-formed thoughts. You want to look away, to move on and distract yourself, but you can't. Your eyes are glued to Kyle and the girl, your heart aching with each passing moment.

He laughs at something she says, and you feel a sharp pang in your chest. You know you need to get a grip, to pull yourself together, but it's as if your body and mind are working against you. The jitteriness from the caffeine pills makes it hard to stand still, and you find yourself fidgeting, your fingers tapping nervously against your thigh.

You look around for a scapegoat and your eyes land on Kenny, he's cheering on some kind of drinking game. "Hey, Kenny," You say way louder than intended, causing him to flinch.

"Hey, dude," He grins. He's wearing a pair of sunglasses despite being inside at night, you didn't need to be a genius to know he was covering up the redness of his eyes. Kenny looks you up and down, chuckling slightly "Jeez, what are you on? You're shaking."

"It's just caffeine," you shake your head, trying to soothe the jitters but you are near twitching.

"Uh, okay, buddy," He slings an arm around you, pulling you in to watch the game was partaking in. The two of you were contrasting each other perfectly. Kenny was laughing and smiling, his whole body loose, eyes half-lidded beneath his glasses while you stood stiffly, eyes wide and very much aware.

A group of people stood in a circle around a table, pointing at whoever was most likely to do the thing one of them said. "Who is most likely to start a cult?" One of the girls slurs her words and the group points at some guy wearing a baseball cap backwards who pounds back his drink.

Never had you realized how awful it was to be the only sober person in a large group if you were still qualified as sober from the amount of caffeine you swallowed back like candy. Kenny gives you a squeeze on the shoulder, shaking you slightly as he laughs loudly at something you missed completely.

You were so acutely aware of everything all at once but also nothing at all. Every sound, every movement, every flicker of light seems amplified, almost painfully vivid

You watch as Kenny raises his arms in triumph, a wide grin spreading across his face. The others cheer, their voices blending into a cacophony of celebration and camaraderie. For a moment, you feel a pang of longing to join in, to lose yourself in the carefree abandon of the game. But the hyperactivity from the caffeine, combined with the turmoil over Kyle, makes you hesitant.

"Okay, most likely to commit a felony?" Millie asks with a lazy smile on her face. Everyone glances around before pointing at Kenny. He grins, taking in all of the cheers and the chanting that eggs him on to finish the drink in his hand.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you watch the partygoers; as a kid, you always expected more dancing at parties in high school but the reality was that the majority of people just sat around on their phones. Across the room, Cylde stands next to Tolkien and holds up an empty beer bottle, aiming for the recycling bin in the corner. He's clearly had a few drinks, his movements slightly uncoordinated.

"Watch this!" he calls out, his voice filled with drunken confidence though there is that same lopsided smile on his face. "Kobe!"

You watch as he winds up, his arm swinging back before he throws the bottle. You see the bottle veer off course, heading straight toward you and you feel the inevitable dread. There was no time to think between when the bottle left his hand and when it hit you in the head. Next to him, Tolkien's jaw drops, looking down at his friend in horror.

The bottle smashes over your head with a sickening crash. Pain explodes in your skull, a white-hot flash though you don't even make a sound. The room goes silent, the music and chatter fading into a distant hum. You feel the sting of glass shards embedding in your scalp, the warmth of blood trickling down your forehead, mingling with sweat.

Clyde's face is full of horror as his hands grip his hair, his eyes wide, his mouth moving but the words not reaching your ears. Your heart races even faster, adrenaline mixing with the caffeine, making you feel like you're vibrating from the inside out. The sharp sting of the impact, the throbbing pain, the wetness of the blood, all converge into a sensory overload that leaves you dazed and disoriented.

You stand there, swaying slightly, the world around you a blur of concern and panic. Someone shouts for help, their voice piercing through the fog in your mind. The party now feels distant and unreal, like a dream slipping away as you cling to consciousness. Every detail, every sensation is etched into your mind with excruciating clarity, the caffeine ensuring that you'll remember this moment forever.

"Fuck," You mutter, agitation clinging to your words. You use the sleeve of the lavender button-up to haphazardly wipe away the blood pooling down your face. Everything seemed to get worse with every passing moment, the most awful thing of all is that for what seemed to be the thousandth time that night, everyone was staring at you.

"Holy shit," Even Kenny who was in his own realm seemed to be grounded for a moment as he watched your injury. You give the little crowd of people watching you a thumbs up to signal you are fine and they can go back to their own discussions.

"It's cool," You take a deep breath, trying to shake it off but you weren't sure there was a thing in this world that could still you. This wasn't a great addition to your very shitty day, you were tired from running and sick from caffeine, frustrated by yourself more than anything.

You stumble away from the disorder of the party, your legs shaky and unsteady beneath you. The room feels too bright, too loud, every sound a sharp jab to your already throbbing head. You need to find a quiet space, somewhere to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. You spot a door slightly ajar down a hallway and make your way towards it, each step feeling like a monumental effort.

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps as if the air itself is too thick to inhale. You try to steady yourself, but your hands are trembling uncontrollably, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. The pain in your head intensifies, each pulse of blood through your veins sending sharp spikes of agony through your skull.

The master bathroom is a welcome retreat from the party's constant buzz. Despite the light almost hurting your head even more and the face in the mirror that was streaked with blood, you were still thankful to be away from all of the little things that worsened this caffeine overdose.

Yanking the drawers open, you dig around for something to clean yourself up with. You slide one open and find miscellaneous junk though amongst it is the treasure of Spider-Man band-aids.

You turn on the tap, the sound of running water a steady, calming rhythm. Cupping your hands under the stream, you splash your face, the cold water a sharp contrast to the heat of your skin. You grab a towel, pressing it gently to the cut on your forehead, wincing at the sting. The towel quickly turns crimson, and you press harder, hoping to staunch the bleeding.

Looking down at the towel and then back up at yourself in the mirror, you wondered if this injury was worth going to the hospital for. You were almost sure you still had painkillers left over from your broken nose and none of the cuts seemed terrible, they were cat scratches.

The only thing that worried you was the dull thudding in the back of your head though that had been there since you entertained a room full of confederates. With all of the injuries you had acquired, you made a general rule to go in the morning if it was drastically worse. It was all just a waiting game for you.

The door to the master bedroom that was attached to the bathroom opens and clicks shut. You don't even bother checking who it is, you already have a sneaking suspicion as you continue to dab away at the sticky blood.

You had left the door ajar and it pushes further in softly, and Kyle steps in, his tall frame filling the small space. His eyes widen when he sees you, taking in the blood and the glass shards scattered in the sink.

You freeze when you see him in the mirror's reflection and turn to look at him slowly. Eyes desperate and silently pleading "Kyle, please, I just can't right now."

"I'm not asking you to."

"What?"

"You don't have to say anything," Kyle moves closer, his presence comforting in the small room. He takes a deep breath, then looks at you with a certain stillness. "Just let me help."

With hesitance, you slowly nod. He steps behind you, his height making him tower over you slightly. The warmth of his body close to yours sends a shiver down your spine. As you continue to clean the cuts on your forehead, Kyle's fingers gently part your hair, searching for any remaining shards of glass.

His touch is careful, each movement precise and deliberate. You feel the warmth of his hands, the gentle pressure as he meticulously picks out the tiny pieces of glass. His focus is intense, his brows furrowed in concentration. The proximity makes you acutely aware of every sensation- the way his breath brushes against your ear, the soft rustle of his clothing, the subtle scent of his cologne.

"Hold still," he murmurs softly, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I've almost got it."

You try to stay as still as possible, the combination of his gentle touch and the methodical task helping to calm your nerves. The pain in your head throbs dully, tears forming in your eyes from it. The intimacy of the moment is heightened by the silence, broken only by the occasional clink of glass shards being dropped into the sink.

You glance at his focused reflection, continuing to clean your cuts in the mirror. The antiseptic stings less now, and the pain fading to a manageable level. Kyle works with quiet efficiency, his fingers deftly removing the last few shards. He drops them into the sink, then runs his fingers through your hair one last time, ensuring it's free of any debris.

"All done," he says, stepping back slightly. "How do you feel?"

You take a deep breath, looking at your reflection. The cuts are clean, the blood washed away, and the Spider-Man band-aids on the counter are ready to be applied. You meet Kyle's gaze in the mirror, tears pricking in your eyes.

"Fine," You say quietly, shifting your eyes to look anywhere but him.

When you bend down slightly to reach into the band-aid box, Kyle catches a glimpse of your band-shirt beneath the collar of the comically large button-up. He looks down at his own shirt, frowning slightly.

The moment hangs in the air, charged with anticipation. You can feel the unspoken tension, the pull between you growing stronger. The party outside fades into insignificance, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate space. The world narrows down to the warmth of his hand, the steady rhythm of his breath, and those unspoken moments that bind you together.

Over every little cut, you slap a Spider-Man band-aid over it, and a couple of them end up in your hairline while Kyle hangs back and watches.

But then, the memory of last week rushes back—the way Kyle had leaned in, his breath mingling with yours, only to pull back at the last second. You had avoided him since then, afraid of the vulnerability it had stirred within you.

Now, standing so close to him, the air thick with unspoken tension, you can feel the same pull. "Are you okay?" He asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah," You wriggle yourself away from him, leaving the mess on the bathroom counter and sitting on the edge of the bed. The satin beneath you concaves like pearls bending in the sunlight.

"Are we okay?" He asks, standing in the doorway and watching you.

You take a deep breath, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. "I don't know." This was the inevitable, the very thing you spent all day trying to get away from and the whole week prior trying to plan around.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you-

"You blocked me on Roblox."

"Okay fine," You raise your hands in defence. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. You needed the rest of summer to smother the flame into ash and let it die, "I know I haven't been fair to you-

"Why, though?"

"Because it's too much," Your voice is louder than you intended it to be. You couldn't even begin to sort out the cluster fuck that was your emotions. "It's gonna ruin our friendship." You didn't even want to say what 'it' was. The both of you knew clearly but still, you tiptoed around it like the earth might shatter if you say it.

"It's ruined anyways." Kyle shakes his head.

You're eyes widen slightly, heartbeat picking up "You're drunk."

"I'm not."

"That's worse," You shudder. "Look at me, I just pretended to be a fortune teller in a redneck's house and I steal and I smell like cigarettes and teenage angst."

"I don't care."

"Why?" You press "I'm not even nice to you, and I'm just- generally fucked. Okay? I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'm not a very good person or even really an interesting one. I've been so awful to you, do you remember all of those things I've said to you? Remember when I stole your dad's Viagra to sell it and then I blamed it on you?"

"Yeah, and-

"And? There shouldn't be an 'and'. I'm not a nice girl and this will be the biggest mistake you ever make, that's why I couldn't kiss you at the lake because trust me- I wanted to. Kyle, you don't know what you want and I don't know why you're trying so hard. What if it doesn't work out?"

"But what if it does?" He asks "What if it does work out and we're happy together?"

Your words die in your throat, eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill from the sheer pressure crushing you like some kind of torture; had you been a sinner in some kind of ancient myth, you thought that this would be your eternal punishment. His presence is so incredibly unnerving, the way he stares you down, his face unwavering. You shake your head "We don't make sense-

"And we won't, ever, we don't have to."

"Have you thought about this? Like really thought about this. Our families and the fact we'll have to see each other every year no matter what we do. We won't ever move past this." You were scared to death and he seemed perfectly fine.

He moves from the doorway, stepping forward toward you "Can you please just be straight with me?" Kyle asks, voice rising slightly "Do I have a chance or not? because I have been turning myself inside out trying not to like you."

At first, his words feel like some type of cruel prank and then they settle in your head like a nightmare."Oh my god,” You scoff, gripping your hair, eyes wide while you stand up from the bed. "I'm gonna scream, I'm going fucking insane.”

"I wanna hear you go insane. If you're going to scream, I want to hear it!" He exasperates "I don't care what it is, I just want you to let me in."

You stared at him, eyebrows drawn in while your wide eyes tried to study each breath from him, every shift in his posture like he was hiding some ulterior motive. You couldn't believe, that he still liked you after everything.

The thought of kissing him crossed your mind once again. The idea itself made you want to crawl out of your skin but you had to test it just to be sure. Swiftly, you close the gap between you, your lips brushing against his in a tentative, searching kiss. Kyle responds immediately, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you close.

The kiss deepens, all the unspoken emotions of the past week pouring into it. When you finally pull back, breathless and heart racing, you aren't sure that the awe and adoration in Kyle's eyes match the fear and panic in yours.

He shifts his hands to hold firmly onto your waist, fingers digging into the plush skin of your midriff like you might disappear if he were to let go "Don't leave again, I can't do this again."

Tears prick at your eyes, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion threatening to spill over. The caffeine that once fueled your anxiety now seems to heighten your awareness of every sensation- every touch, every breath shared between you.

"Okay," You bury your face in his shoulder, the familiar scent of him filling your senses, a mixture of pine and something uniquely him. His cheek rests against your temple, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs into your hair. You feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tense slightly as he holds you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

His hands move slowly, one settling at the small of your back, the other cradling the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair. It's a protective gesture, making you feel cherished and safe. You feel the warmth of his skin through the layers of your shirt fabric, the subtle tremor in his touch.

"My head hurts," You utter softly. You take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him, and as you exhale, the tension begins to melt away.

"I know," He tilts his head down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head. He gives you a light squeeze, his arms tightening around you momentarily, just to be sure you won't slip away.

A/N: 95k words and they finally kissed

#south park #south park x reader #south park x y/n #kyle broflovski #kyle south park #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski x reader #south park kyle #stan marsh #wendy testaburger #tolkien black #red mcarthur #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle x reader #kyle broflovski fluff #sp kyle #south park hcs #south park fanfiction #nichole daniels

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southparkhcsocs · 11 months ago

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Stuck in the middle

Part 42

Part 44

Beginning

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the-wretched-and-joyful · 4 years ago

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Number 8 in the scenario prompt with Hazza please ✨

Thank you so much for sending in the ask love! Hope you like this!

Teacher’s Pet?

word count: 600+ | warning: curse words | pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader

Send in asks for weekend blurb night!

“Fuck fuck fuck, what the fuck is he doing here?” you mumbled under your breath as you hid behind one of the huge pillars of the corridor. Technically you were not supposed to be here. You were supposed to be at Professor McArthur’s class, but for some reason, you just couldn’t bear another hour of lecture.

So there you were, enjoying the calm and the fresh air on the campus when you suddenly spotted Harrison. And as soon as you did, you hid behind one of the pillars. And there was a very good reason why you were hiding from an otherwise good looking guy.

The thing is, Harrison is known for being a huge teacher’s pet. He is one of the best students at the uni, sure, and that does get him an easy pass among the professors. But some of your friends have warned you that crossing him can get you in trouble. And that’s why you stayed away from him as much as you could.

However, if you had been a little slower in hiding, you’d see that Harrison too had spotted you, and did the exact same thing as you did, which was, to hide behind another pillar.

Completely unaware of each other’s reaction, both of you peered around the concrete structure to see if the other was gone. But all you two succeeded in doing were catch each other’s eye!

As soon as that happened you were lightning fast to hide again. And once you were out of his sight, it struck you.

Was he hiding from YOU?

“Are you hiding from me?” the sudden question made you almost jump out of your skin. While you were debating with yourself whether you should go ahead and ask him about it or not, he had decided to walk up to you and ask you the question.

“NO!” your a bit too loud voice made some of the other students look at you two. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down and then answered in a level voice “No, I’m not hiding from you. Are you hiding from me?”

“No,” Harrison did a half grimace, clearly trying to hide the truth. Now that you were seeing the guy up close and not to personally, you realized why girls around the campus were almost crazy about him. He had perfect skin. Sure his eyes were beautiful, and even his half grimace was adorable, but his skin was so perfect!

“So we were both hiding from each other!” you conclude, cracking a small smile, which he returns.

“Sorry, I just thought that getting caught by the teacher’s pet will be terrible on an already terrible day!” his cheeks turned red as he smiled and ducked his head a little. And even though his entire expression made you want to smush his cheeks, your mind got stuck on one point.

“Wait, YOU are the teacher’s pet,” you said, which made him look up at you, with somewhat of a sad look in his eyes erasing the previous bashfulness.

“So you bought into the rumors of me being a teacher’s pet too?”

“No,” you were trying to find the right words, “It’s just what I heard… that’s all.”

“And you were hiding cause you thought I was going to get you into trouble with Professor McArthur, weren’t you?” he smiles at you.

“A little yes!” now it was your turn to be bashful at being caught.

“How about you make us from assuming things about me, by buying me a coffee, and then we can share and compare notes on why none of us wanted to go to class today?” his expressions had done a complete 180-degree and now he was smiling cheekily at you.

You thought about it for a moment, before answering, “You know what, why not? Follow me Osterfield!” you take his arm and lead his towards the exit of the building. You may have bought into the rumors. But now it was time to really explore and get to know this ‘teacher’s pet’.

#Harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield imagines #haz Osterfield imagines #harrison osterfield oneshots #haz osterfield oneshots #Anya Writes #Weekend blurb nights #lost aesthetic

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hunnysnoops · 7 months ago

Text

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Nine: Take Me Out

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

So if you’re lonely, you know I’m here waiting for you and if you leave here, you’ll leave me broken. Shattered I lie.

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: Over the course of days and eventually weeks you grow closer with Kyle as feelings begin to shift.

Warnings: crude language and humour

MASTERLIST

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

June 29

You and Kyle rush through the park, the world around you blurring as your feet pound against the pavement. The sun filters through the canopy of leaves overhead, casting dappled shadows that dance along the path. You feel the wind in your hair and the exhilaration of the run in your chest, your breaths coming fast but steady.

Recently, you had been looking forward to your runs with Kyle. You had always hated doing it with others, either too slow, stopping too often, or talking too much but there was a sweet spot with Kyle that you didn't mind in the slightest.

There are several children playing soccer to your left, and you can hear their enthusiastic yells as they play. A couple walks their corgi to your right, the dog is so obscenely fat that his stomach almost scrapes the ground though he seems happy.

You match his stride by the pond, where the water reflects the clear blue sky and the swarms of ducks gliding across its surface. Kyle slows down, and you equal his pace, both of you breathing heavily but smiling wide. "You're getting faster."

You laugh, the sound light and relaxed. "Maybe you're getting slower," you tease back. He rolls his eyes, but there's a twinkle in them that shows he enjoys the banter.

"Can you ever just take a compliment?"

"Uh, nope," You grin turning for the exit of the park. Your lungs burned in the perfect kind of way.

The energy shifts instantly as you break away from the still park and enter town, the quiet rustle of leaves replaced by the hum of human life. Cars honk, people chat as they pass by, and the air is filled with the scent of food from nearby cafes and food trucks. Hanging in the air is the strong smell of liquor from a smashed bottle of tequila that crunches beneath your sneakers.

Kyle is still ahead, his pace unwavering as he navigates through the crowd. You follow close behind, weaving through pedestrians and occasionally bumping shoulders. The buildings loom tall around you, their glass facades reflecting the afternoon sun.

As you turn a corner, something catches your eye. You come to an abrupt stop, causing Kyle to glance back, curious. There, plastered on a wall among a collage of posters and flyers, is an advertisement for an upcoming concert. The bold, colourful design grabs your attention, but it's the picture of the band that really makes you pause. The heading reads 'Suburban Wasteland' one of the hidden gems you listened to almost on a regular. They sang to your edgy little middle school self who went through an emo phase and claimed you would be that way forever.

The lead singer stands front and center, his eyes smouldering and his messy hair perfectly tousled. He's cute, undeniably so, and you find yourself staring at the poster, your heart beating a little faster for reasons other than the run. "Oh my god," You mutter.

Kyle halts to a stop and walks to your side, staring at the poster. His eyebrows knit together as he takes in what he's seeing "What?"

You hadn't heard him, expression softening as you focused in on the tour dates. "Look!" You point at one of the dates, eyes lighting up "They're coming to South Park!"

"You actually listen to these guys?" He looks at the four men on the poster

"Yes!" You grab his arm and shake it, swaying his body in doing so. You were almost screaming the pure excitement that was running through you like lightning causing passersby to cast you judgmental glares. You weren't sure you had been so thrilled about something since you started high school. "They're here in July, we should go!"

"Is he wearing eyeliner?" Kyle narrowed his eyes at the poster. At first glance, they looked like some corny screamo boyband from the early 2000s, brought to life by ripped skinny jeans and deep side parts.

"He's so hot," You mutter, hands still gripped onto Kyle's arm without even noticing how tightly you were holding him.

"That's the kinda guy you're into?" He abruptly swerves his head to look at you. His eyes widen for a brief moment before they narrow in at you, his lips downturned in a slight frown.

Your hands drip from where they rest on his arms "Yeah, I guess." Your near shaking with elation at the thought of the band you played on loop daily coming to your little bumpkin town. "Do you wanna go with me?"

He rubs the back of his neck "Don't you want to go with Red or something?"

"Red's going to Alaska at the end of July."

"Why is Red going to Alaska in July?"

"Doesn't matter," You answer "They're really cool, I think you'll actually like their songs-

"I'm sure they're fine. But I'm not really into that type of stuff?"

“What do you mean that type of stuff?"

"Like angry thrashers pushing each other around and breaking necks in a mosh pit," He says, sweat still glistening on his brow, only accentuated by the blaring sun overhead.

"None of my friends like this thing, please?" Your eyes go wide, silently pleading with him.

He bites the inside of his cheek for a second, staring you down, his thoughts bouncing back and forth like a game of ping pong "I don't really like it either."

“I know you don’t really listen to that genre but-

“I’m not going,” He says, firm.

You give up, rolling your eyes. Your shoulders slump a little, disappointment washing over you. Taking one last longing look at the poster before resuming your pace, you resume your run, pushing aside the lingering let down "You're boring," You call back to Kyle "And slow."

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

July 4

As you sit at the back of the dimly lit restaurant, the clatter of plates and the murmur of the last few lingering customers fade into the background. The cold, metallic touch of cutlery presses against your fingers as you roll knife after fork into napkins, your movements mechanical and practiced.

You were nearing the end of your shift though there were still bins of cutlery left for you to roll into little place sets before you could go home. This wasn't exactly how you wanted to spend your fourth of July, especially when all your friends were out and about, living it up while you developed blisters on your feet from countless hours jetting around a restaurant.

The fourth of July seemed like a good cash grab to make good tips but you were proved wrong by the amount of rowdy tourists who talked a big game but tipped you very little if anything at all. You had ended the night with less than you came in with, the tips were so poor you had to use your own pocket money to tip out the house, bartender, and kitchen.

There was the same awful 80s playlist reverberating through the speakers. It was the same 60 songs over and over again, you knew them so well you could recite every lyric and the more you heard them, the more you hated them. You were almost tempted to take two steak knives and shove them into your ears.

Some shifts were so bad that you just needed to sit in silence, this was one of them. The fourth of July was one of your favourite holidays and your evil manager had coerced you into missing it. The worst part for you was the fact that you didn't get to see any of the fireworks, you just heard them faintly outside along with the sounds of people actually enjoying their night.

You wore your little black dress in the hopes of racking up more tips but instead, you had another server knock their customer's drinks onto you, drenching you in the smell of red wine and ceasers. There were little bits of the ceaser spice still visible on your dress while you continued rolling cutlery and biting the inside of your cheek to avoid screaming.

Outside, the sky is dark, with only a faint glow from distant fireworks that you can't quite see. You missed them again this year, the bursts of colour and the laughter of friends and family. The fourth of July has come and gone while you served tables, refilled water jugs, and plastered on a tired smile.

You think of the sparklers you loved as a child, the barbecue smells, and the warmth of being surrounded by your family. Tonight, the warmth comes only from the overhead lights the persistent hum of the kitchen appliances and the cursing coming from the remaining staff. It didn't help this overwhelming feeling that your dad dropped you off on your way to work, meaning you didn't have your car or a ride home.

Checking your phone only made you feel worse. No new messages. The majority of your friends were at Clyde's party while you hummed along to old rock n' roll songs you've grown accustomed to hate. His party was long over, you had seen through Snapchat stories that the cops showed up. It was nearing twelve am, it was almost the fifth and you had wasted your day.

You weren't sure you could hold your tears back for another minute until your co-worker poked her head into the backroom "Your boyfriends here," Brooke says, walking in and grabbing her phone off the table that had cutlery sprawled out over top.

"I don't have a boyfriend," You say, furrowing your eyebrows.

"I don't care," She says while tapping around on her phone "Someone's here for you."

Quickly, you tie off your last napkin roll and poke your head out of the staff room door to see Kyle awkwardly standing by the host stand. You bite back a smile, diving for your locker and snatching your bag from it. You hurriedly throw your hoodie on over your dress and spritz some body spray in an attempt to mask the smell of liquor soaked into your dress.

"Wait, you didn't clock out," Brooke looks up from her phone, watching you as you walk out of the staff room.

"You know what really hasn't clocked out?" You ask and continue without waiting for an answer "Racism, bullying, soap brows, maybe you should get on that first."

You walk down the corridor towards the front door, tugging your skirt down and pushing hair away from your face as you approach Kyle. He looks up from his phone and spots you.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite your tiredness.

"Your dad told me he dropped you off today, I'm taking you home."

"Oh," You keep a smile on your face despite the urge to let it drop.

As the two of you leave the restaurant and step into the dry heat, he shoves his hands into his pockets "How was work?"

"Fucking shitty," You answer, feeling no urge to sugarcoat "Just a bunch of asshole tourists who smell like cavities."

"What does a cavity smell like?"

"Like plaque build-up and sour breath," You answer, wrinkling your nose at the thought alone. "Uh, how was Clydes?"

Kyle shrugs "Fine, I guess, nothing special."

"You didn't drink?"

"Nah," He opens the door to his car, flicking the light on and waiting for you to climb into the passenger seat. "I left early, actually."

"What? Why?" You shut the door as you get in, dropping your bag to the floor of the car "I wanted to go so bad."

"Just felt like I could've been doing something better with my night," As you and Kyle settle into the car, the familiar scent of his aftershave mingles with the cool night air. The engine hums to life, and the car glides out of the parking lot, leaving behind the warm glow and the remnants of another awful shift.

You worried if he could smell the liquor on you or the steak sauce but he gave no indication, eyes focused on the road as he drove. "Were the fireworks cool at least?"

"Yeah, they were."

The streets are mostly quiet now, a subtle contrast to the earlier hustle and bustle of Fourth of July celebrations and drunk partygoers, roaming the streets decked out in patriotic accessories from the dollar tree. Streetlights cast elongated shadows, flickering as you pass beneath them. The rhythmic click of the turn signal is a comforting sound, a steady beat that matches your slowly calming heartbeat as your eyelids begin to grow heavy.

You notice the little details as you drive: the way the trees sway gently in the wind, their leaves rustling like a whisper; the soft glow of porch lights in the distance, each one a silent witness to the night's festivities, air running through them like whispers. You pass a park where sparklers flicker in the hands of teenagers, their laughter carries through the now-hushing night.

Kyle glances at you, a smile playing on his lips as he sees you taking it all in. He doesn't rush, allowing you to soak up every moment. The radio plays softly, a nostalgic tune that seems to fit the sleepy mood perfectly. You hum along absentmindedly, despite the disappointment you were coming to terms with it all.

"Where are you going?" You ask as Kyle turns onto a narrow, gravel path leading up a small hill. The car bumps along the uneven road, and your eyebrows furrow at the sound of animals rustling mingling with the crunch of gravel under the tires. "Please don't kidnap me, I'm too tired to fist fight but I do have a corkscrew in my bag," You say, waiting a beat and then filling the silence "Fine, you got me, I stole the corkscrew from my manager." That was true. You were so angry and fed up that you went into her purse and stole the corkscrew her husband gave her for her anniversary, it even had her initials carved into it. You figured she drank enough and you were doing her a favour.

"I'm not kidnapping you, Jesus," His eyes are steady on the beaten road "Just wait." He looks at you for a second "And give that corkscrew back."

"I dunno, sounds like something a kidnapper would say," You tap your fingers on the dashboard. “And the really Kyle would never tell me to give something stolen back.”

“Yes, he would.” He pulls up to a small hill overlooking the town, yanking the keys out of the ignition. Wordlessly, Kyle gets out of the car and gestures for you to follow him. You decide against the idea of him kidnapping you and trail him to a grassy spot that overlooks the town.

Kyle looks down at his watch before looking back up at the sky. He stands beside you, close enough that you can feel his warmth. The inky black sky is punctuated by the sudden, brilliant explosions of light. Like a gigantic chrysanthemum, a flash of red blooms, each flower trailing shimmering flames as it dies. Then there's a silvery waterfall that shimmers as if it's trapped in midair. With each fireworks being more spectacular than the last, you watch, transfixed, as the colours change and intensify.

The air smells faintly of smoke and summer, it takes you right back to the last Fourth of July you spent at Bebe's house, watching the show from the roof of her house and downing Dr. Pepper. The fireworks paint the sky with vibrant hues- fiery oranges, deep blues, radiant greens- each of which leaves a brief afterimage against the night sky.

You glance at Kyle, his face illuminated by the bursts of light. His eyes are wide with wonder, and there's a content smile on his lips. The reflection of the fireworks dances in his eyes like a mirror.

The grand finale begins, and the sky erupts in a riot of colour and sound. Rapid-fire bursts fill the air, overlapping in a dazzling display that takes your breath away. The booms are louder, the lights brighter, and for a few moments, the sky is swallowed whole with chaos and beauty.

As the last firework fades, leaving trails of smoke that slowly dissipate into the night, a peaceful silence settles over the hilltop. The minute passes over and so does the holiday, the last fireworks of the night and you had a front-row seat. The stars, previously outshone, now reclaim their place in the sky, twinkling softly. Kyle turns to face you "Worth it?"

"Could've been better," You tease, sarcasm hanging from your tone. You know for sure this is one memory you will be forever clinging to.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

July 9

Both yours and Kyle's family gathered in your living room for game night, which felt long overdue. The teams were you and Kyle, Weston and Ike, Your mother and Sheila, your father and Gerald. There was hardly even competition between the four groups, you and Kyle were sweeping them.

"Whose turn is it?" Your mom asks looking around the room.

"Weston and Ike," You answer, pushing your brother off the couch and taking his spot, pulling your knees to your chest and yanking a throw blanket overtop.

Ike sits on the floor and leans against the armchair his brothers sitting on, watching as Weston digs around into the popcorn bowl filled with prompts. He pulls a slip of paper out and groans when he reads it "Bruh," He draws out "I don't even know this one."

"Just pick another one," Your dad tells him, he's nursing a glass of wine and standing behind the couch like a vulture.

"Dude," Weston crumples up the slip of paper and chooses a new one "I dunno this one either."

"Just try your best," Sheila tells him.

Weston holds his arms out and begins to enthusiastically flail them. "Shake?" Ike asks, face utterly perplexed as your brother lets out another groan and then begins to convulse his body. "Earthquake?" At Ike's second guess, your brother pauses, runs his hands down his face then begins to violently shake again.

"Seizure?" Your dad asks, eyebrows drawing in at the sight of his son "What is this?"

Your brother clenches his fist, taking a deep breath in then he mimes juggling, but his hands flail wildly, and it's hard to tell if he's juggling invisible balls or trying to swat away imaginary flies. His exaggerated movements have everyone squinting and guessing wildly. "Stroke?" Ike asks, mouth slightly agape while he tries to decode your brother's rapid movements.

Weston shakes his head vigorously and switches tactics. He starts hopping in place, then drops to all fours, pretending to be an animal of some sort, but it's not clear which one. He growls, then stands up and begins doing it deep lunges back and forth, switching legs.

“Furry?" Ike asks "Gym? Exercise?"

"Bruh, no," He then stands still and makes a grand sweeping gesture with his arms, as if presenting something spectacular.

"Circus?" Ike guesses again to which Weston shakes his head.

Weston balls his hand up into a fist and cracks it through the air like he's whipping something. Everyone in the room awkwardly glances at one another, waiting for it to end.

"Cat woman? Batman?" Just for a moment, Ike thinks he is close and then Weston shakes his head once again. Weston starts jumping in place and moving his hands in tight circles like he's skipping rope. Your eyes shift to Kyle, both of you too confused to laugh "I give up!" Ike throws his hands up in defeat "You're awful at this."

"It's the Great Gatsby, bruh," Weston exasperated like it was obvious what he was trying to portray.

"What was great about that?" Your mom asks, only half joking.

"I'm gonna lie," You say "That was really good." The second the parents look away your brother sticks up his middle finger for the briefest moment before wedging himself between you and your mom on the couch. You stand up walk to the spot in front of the TV and pull out the slip.

You hold up three fingers on each hand, looking at Kyle "Six words?” He asks and you nod. You hold out one finger to symbolize the first word, Kyle's deep in focus as he watches you. You begin to draw out an infinity symbol in the air with your finger. "Infinity? Forever? Always?" His eyebrows draw in deep and you can see the gears turning in his mind "Eternal!"

Holding up a quick thumbs up, you move on to the fifth word, pretending that you're spraying the air with cleaner and wiping it off.

"Clean? Maid? Tidy? Spray? Wash? Scrub?"

You shake your head, continuing to do the motion. After thirty more seconds of him not getting it, you move on to the sixth word and start pointing at your head, tapping it and eventually patting it with the palm of your hand.

"Brain? Head?" He stares at you trying to piece together the other clues and muttering to himself "Mind?" He asks and you nod enthusiastically. He slaps his knee, shooting to stand up "Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!"

"Yes!" You exclaim, immediately rushing over to give him a high five. "Eat it shrimps!" You shout at both of your brothers "Being illiterate isn't so funny now, is it?"

"I miss when they were screaming at each other," Weston mutters to Ike.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

July 13

You and Kyle hurried into the dimly lit theatre, the screen already glowing with the opening credits as you scanned for empty seats. The hushed murmurs of the audience and the faint sound of dialogue filled the air, punctuated by the occasional burst of chatter from those already settled in.

"Over there," Kyle whispered, pointing to a row near the middle of the theatre. You nodded and followed him, trying to tread lightly as you squeezed past knees and feet in the dim light. Each step felt like an intrusion into the quiet atmosphere of the theatre.

As you reached your row, you realized it was already almost full. A couple gave you a disapproving look as you attempted to slide past them, their eyes narrowing in annoyance. Kyle muttered a quick apology, but you could feel the tension in the air as you squeezed into your seats.

Trying to settle in quietly, you fumbled with your jacket and bag, the soft rustling seeming to echo loudly in the stillness. You exchanged a sheepish glance with Kyle, both of you acutely aware of the eyes on you from nearby patrons who were less than pleased with your tardy arrival.

You didn't expect to find yourself so caught up in the movie, it was an incredibly corny action film and kept finding yourself making faces at the cheesy bots which was almost the entire thing. Kyle kept stifling sniggers whenever you would mock the movie.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" The lead protagonist turns around to see his enemy behind him. He pulls a large rifle from his trenchcoat and the two enact in an overly acted fight scene.

"Jeez, he's dressed like someone's imaginary friend," You utter under your breath.

"Sh!" You hear from behind you. You turn to see a large man, his greasy hair tied into a ponytail and a stringy beard that made its way down his neck. You mouth a sorry and look back at the screen.

The movie got worse the longer you watched, they had managed to pull out every single cliche and implement it into a plot with stiff dialogue and flat characters. Your boredom only grew, the only thing entertaining was a little whisper passed between you and Kyle.

However, every time you leaned over to share a quick remark with Kyle, you felt a sharp "Shh!" from the man seated directly behind you. His voice was low but firm, cutting through the air like a disapproving whisper.

Startled, you glanced back, catching a glimpse of his stern expression and raised finger before turning back to the screen, cheeks tinged with embarrassment. Kyle stifled a chuckle beside you, clearly amused by the unexpected scolding.

During another action scene, Kyle ducks his head into his elbow and sneezes "You know, if you're sick, just stay home," The man from behind you speaks again, his jaw clenched tight in irritation.

"You know, if you reek of body order, just stay home," You retort.

"Excuse me?" He says.

"Yeah, excuse you."

"Calm down," Kyle puts one hand on your shoulder to steady you then looks at the man "We're sorry."

"Oh, of course. The boyfriend steps in to play peacemaker," he sneered. "Put a damn muzzle on your girlfriend," The man says to Kyle. He turns his attention back to the movie but you've already turned around, knees on the seat while you hang over the back and glare at the man.

"Put a muzzle on yourself, that way you might not look like you ate the ham burglar." You whisper-shout.

"Don't talk to her like that, man," Kyle adds, also turning around to face him.

The man's face grows red "You better watch-

"Sh!" You say, watching the man look stunned. Silence stretches between the three of you and when the man opens his mouth to speak you do it again "Sh!"

"Okay-

"Shhhh," You draw out putting a finger over your mouth. "How many pubes did you have to steal from motel shower drains until you had enough to glue on your chin?" You point at his scruffy neck-beard, staring him dead in the eyes.

"Are you done?" The man asks, huffing.

"Yeah, sure," You snap, turning back around, sinking into the chair and trying to focus on the movie despite the grimace-shaped man behind you.

"Stupid bitch," He mumbled.

Kyle's entire demeanour changed in an instant. He turned around, his face red with anger. "What did you just say?" His body tense, muscles visibly tightened.

"Leave them alone," Another man from the row above says "They're just kids."

"Y'know what man? I'd be pissed off if I looked like that too," You seethe, eyes narrowing at the guy behind you.

"Whore," He said in a mocking tone, a proud smile on his face as he did so.

Before Kyle could react, you reached forward to grab the drink sitting in his cupholder and hurled it at the man. The liquid splashed all over him, drenching his face and clothes. The theatre erupted in gasps and murmurs as the man sat there, stunned and dripping. Not one person was still paying attention to the movie.

"What the hell?" the man yelled, wiping his face with his sleeve. His shock quickly turned to rage, and he lunged forward, raising his hand to hit you.

Kyle was quick to grab his wrist, holding his arm midair before it could land on you. Other moviegoers scrambled out of their seats, some trying to pull the man away while others called for security. You could see the fear consume the man's face as Kyle held tightly.

Within moments, the usher returned with a security guard, their faces stern and ready to intervene. You hadn't seen them come in when you bent over the back of the chair, one hand pointed at the man accusatorily while you screamed at him. "Yeah, try to hit me, biggie!"

The security rushed over to you, trying to put space between you and the man. When you refused to cease, he grabbed the back of your shirt to pull you away, his free hand was held out in front of Kyle, he balanced on one foot while his other was in the air in front of the man.

"Stop," He said, trying not to lose his balance "Out, now, all of you, out!"

A manager rushes into the scene, a blue button down and a name tag that reads Hailey. The large man lands a solid slap across your face and you retaliate by throwing a right hook. "No, no!" Hailey shouts, frantically trying to keep you all apart while the man grips your hair and pulls it with what little force he can muster, you grab hold of his wispy neck beard, pulling it until hair rips out. "Stop!"

Tensions only continue to escalate rapidly. After the man tries to wrap his hands around your neck Kyle hits him, this time everyone freezes as the sound of Kyle's fist connecting with the man's cheekbone sounds through the theatre.

The security guard comes up behind you, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you off the chair. He continues to drag you out while you yell "You smell like a yeast infection, wash your damn rolls!"

Kyle looks at the man and then at you, following you out of the theatre and into the lobby. The manager comes out with the man walking behind her, shamefully, he drips Diet Coke onto the floor. "Stand against the wall," Hailey says and you oblige like you're getting your mug shot taken.

She snaps a picture of each one of your faces "Banned," She says "For life!"

"For life?" The man asks, his voice rising.

"Yes!" Hailey says, gesturing to the wall behind the concession where there were several pictures of people taped up for everyone to see, above each of their profiles was a piece of printer paper, the words 'banned 4 eva' written in red Sharpie "Or do you want me to call the police?"

"No, I'm cool with being banned," You answer first "Not sure I can speak with Jabba the Hutt though."

Kyle's eyes never left the man's as he reluctantly stepped back, his chest still heaving with anger. "Let's go," he said, turning to you and grabbing your hand.

As Kyle trudges to the exit and you follow behind, hand in hand, you stick a middle finger up behind you as you push through the doors and into the daylight. "What a fucking asshole," His jaw was tightly clenched, the muscles visibly twitching with the effort to contain his anger.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

July 19

Tolkien sets up his phone on a nearby table, adjusting angles and checking lighting, while Kyle starts brainstorming ideas. You and Red find yourselves sitting by the sparkling blue waters of Tolkien's pool, feet dangling in while you watch the pair.

"What about this one?" Kyle asks, playing an audio.

Tolkien bites his lip for a moment, deep in thought before he shakes his head "Nah, trends over."

You and Red exchange amused glances, she huffs on a blue raspberry ice vape, occasionally giving you a hit. Her hair is tied up into a ponytail, an old Mötley Crüe shirt thrown over her blue bikini.

"Let's do this one," Kyle huddles next to Tolkien showing him a video on his phone. The audio replays several times before the two of them begin to practice, going through the motions in little segments to remember until they have it down.

Tolkien takes the lead, attempting to mimic the choreography he just watched, his movements almost too precise. He kicks off with a series of dramatic arm waves and hip sways, trying to sync his steps with the beat of the short song.

You lean onto Red, burying your head into her collarbone while you laugh. "That's it, boys, you've made it to the big leagues," She calls out between giggles.

"Can we get less input from the fog machine over there?" Tolkien turns around before walking back to his phone and restarting the video. You lift yourself off Red to watch Tolkien start from the beginning; he moves almost exactly the way he did before like it was a formula.

Tolkien dances his part and then Kyle comes into the frame and they begin a synchronized dance routine, exaggerated and goofy, their attempts at coordination often ending in laughter and playful nudges.

It was nice being friends with Kyle even though it was difficult for you to admit. You liked being able to hang out in a group with him and not trying to murder each other even though the thought still passed through your head on occasion. Both of you promised that you wouldn't tell a soul about the movie theatre fiasco and would swear up and down that your pictures weren't posted up next to crackheads.

When Kyle starts doing his bit of the dance you can't hold back your cackling, clutching your stomach while you brace yourself on Red who herself is shaking from laughter. The boys ignore you but you keep laughing to the point you need to stand up and walk over to the side of Tolkien's house to brace yourself against the wall.

Tolkien finally manages to nail a sequence, and Kyle lets out a triumphant cheer, their joy infectious despite the cringe you and Red felt watching them film TikTok's, they seemed unbothered. "You won't be laughing when I get famous," Tolkien says to you, Kyle's standing next to him watching the video they just finished filming.

"I'm sure it'll be super unfunny then," You say in a mocking tone.

"Yeah, whatever, nice lungs," He says, briefly looking up from his phone.

"Woah, woah, woah," you put a hand out "Where did all of this hostility come from?"

"Where do you think?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," You get the last of your giggles out, straightening up. "Tolkien, show me how to do one of those dances," you suggested with a playful grin.

"Seriously?" Both Kyle and Tolkien say in unison.

"Yeah," You walk over, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing "Show me."

"Uh, okay," Tolkien says, his expression softening "Which one do you want to do?"

"I dunno," You answer, leaning over his shoulder while he scrolls through his saved folder.

He began to break down the steps of a popular dance trend, his movements fluid and precise. His enthusiasm was infectious, and soon you found yourself mimicking his steps, albeit with a hint of hesitation. "Okay, so it's like this," Tolkien explained patiently, demonstrating the footwork and hand gestures slowly. "And then you add a little spin here..."

Kyle leaned casually against the poolside, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched you. The way you focused intently on learning the steps but couldn't move without laughing- it all captivated his attention. He admired your willingness to throw yourself into the dance, your laughter mingling with Tolkien's as you both enjoyed the moment.

"You look so ridiculous right now," Red said, holding her phone up to film you and Tolkien while you danced

"It's kinda fun!" You admit, eyes on Tolkien while you mirror his motions.

"I told you!" Tolkien says, a bright smile on his face. You followed along, stumbling at first but gradually finding your rhythm. Tolkien's encouragement spurred you on, his gentle corrections and cheerful demeanour made the learning process enjoyable.

You were beginning to think you might've been too critical over Kyle's constant filming of TikToks, while you didn't understand how someone could make a career off it you could confess that you were enjoying yourself despite feeling more than stupid.

"We should film one and I'll post it," He props his phone up on a lawn chair, setting up the timer.

"What?" You ask but the timers already nearing it's end and Tolkien is in his place. The music started, and you launched into the routine. He was by far more comfortable than you but you still tried your best.

Your arms swung out to the side in unison, followed by a sharp clap above your head. The song itself was sped up and incredibly annoying, you had a feeling it would be stuck in your head in the following days and you would regret playing it on a loop while you did the choreography. You glanced over at Kyle, catching his eye with a smile.

Just as the music reached a crescendo, Tolkien swept you off your feet, spinning you around in a dramatic flourish. Your laughter echoed across the poolside, an elated sound that filled the air as Tolkien's unexpected move took you by surprise.

The spin was exhilarating, and your laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, your legs kicking playfully in the air as you struggled to regain your balance. Tolkien caught up in the moment and the infectious joy of the scene, couldn't contain his laughter either. As he tried to set you down gently, the combination of laughter and the slick poolside caused both of you to lose footing.

While Tolkien sprawled out on the ground, you tumbled backwards into the deep end of the pool. Red was laughing even harder, the camera still trained on you, she wasn't sure if your cartoonishly dramatic fall was funnier or Tolkien's face plant.

"Are you okay?" Kyle asked, unable to bite back the smile on his face as you resurfaced. You pushed your hair away from your face and wiped chlorine water from your eyes.

"Yeah," You laugh wading over to the edge of the pool where Kyle was standing. "Help me up," You held your hand out.

"You're gonna pull me in," he says, inching backwards just the slightest.

"No, I won't," You said like his accusation was incredulous "I swear," You outstretch your hand even further.

"I don't trust you."

"Why not?" You smiled, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest at his attention. "Just be cool," you replied, reaching out to grasp his hand.

At last, he gave in and as his fingers wrapped around yours, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between you. The warmth of his hand was a stark contrast to the cool water, grounding you in the moment. Kyle's grip was firm and steady as he carefully pulled you up, his strength evident as he helped you find your footing.

The air grew thick with unspoken tension. Water droplets glistened on your skin, catching the last rays of sunlight, and Kyle's gaze softened as he took in the sight of you. The playful banter from earlier seemed to fade, replaced by a deeper, more intense awareness of each other.

As you stepped out of the pool, you stumbled slightly, your wet feet slipping on the smooth surface. Kyle reacted instantly, his arm wrapping around your waist to steady you. The closeness sent a shiver through you, your heart racing as you looked up into his eyes, which were now only inches away.

"Are you good?" Kyle asked, his voice low and filled with a mix of concern and something more, something that made your pulse quicken.

You nodded, unable to find your voice for a moment. The way he held you, his touch gentle, made it hard to focus on anything else. "Yup, fine," you pry yourself away from him.

Neither of you moved immediately, the moment stretching out as the world around you seemed to blur. Kyle's eyes flickered to your lips for a brief second before meeting your gaze again, his expression hesitant.

The moment was broken by the distant sound of Tolkien and Red's laughter as they rewatched the video, reminding you both of where you were. Kyle takes a step back "I can't believe you actually didn't pull me in."

"Yeah, I would never do something like that," You say, casually walking past Kyle and shoving him into the pool as you do so.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

July 25

The sun had long set, leaving the kitchen bathed in the warm, soft glow of overhead lights. Your family and Kyle's had come together for a shared meal, full of far too much wine consumption and brain-rotten jokes made by your little brothers.

As the adults moved to the living room for more conversation and the younger kids dashed outside to play, you and Kyle volunteered to handle the dishes. You both stepped into the kitchen, where the soft light illuminated the scene of culinary aftermath: plates smeared with the last bits of sauce, glasses smudged with fingerprints and lipstick, and serving dishes still holding crumbs of the evening's feast. Even a disgusting concoction your brother had made, water mixed with white wine, rootbeer, ketchup, and relish. He had dared Ike to drink it and then drank it himself when Ike chickened out.

Kyle rolled up his sleeves with a mock-serious expression. "Good god," He mutters at the sheer amount of dishes.

"Get to work, ginger."

The sound of running water and the clinking of dishes filled the space, creating a rhythm as you and Kyle fell into an easy routine. He washed, you dried, and the banter flowed as naturally as the water from the faucet.

"So, how does this thing work again?" Kyle asked, holding up a sponge as if it were a foreign object.

"Just like that," you replied, mimicking his exaggerated movements with the dishtowel. "It's a highly specialized technique, you see."

Kyle chuckled, passing you a clean plate to dry. "Ah, I see. Years of training."

As you dried the dishes, you couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed beneath his rolled-up sleeves, his hands moving efficiently through the soapy water. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he approached even a mundane task like washing dishes.

You thought back to those massive sleepovers where all of your friends would pile into one bedroom and talk about everyone and everything. How they gushed about how cute Kyle was and you always went quiet, wrinkling your nose like the name alone was poison.

"Achoo," Kyle feigned a sneeze, taking water from his hands and flicking it onto you. He kept his eyes down on the sink like he hadn't done anything. You retaliated by whipping the wet dish towel at Kyle a little harder than intended, there was an audible snap when you hit him and your eyes widened. "Jeez, are you trying to take me out?"

"Obviously," You deadpan "That's been the plan for the last seventeen years."

The dishes didn't seem to let up, pan after pan, utensils piling higher than mountains. While your brothers played video games and your parents laughed obnoxiously in the living room, you were still stuck on dishes until your fingers wrinkled to prunes.

The entire time Kyle kept skittishly glancing at you and then glancing away while you pretended not to notice. He didn't know when was the right time to ask you or if you'd even want to hear him out.

Kyle leaned casually against the counter, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He cleared his throat, drawing your attention from the last few utensils you were drying. "Hey, I've got something for you," he said, his voice holding a note of anticipation.

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What is it?" You wiped your hands on a cloth to dry them before settling them on your hips.

Kyle reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out an envelope, holding it out towards you. You took it, your fingers brushing against his, sending a small thrill through you. Carefully, you opened the envelope, revealing two concert tickets inside. Your heart skipped a beat as you read 'Suburban Wasteland' printed at the top above the seating and date information "I don't know if you still want to go with me. I was kinda a dick about it so you can give the other ticket to Bebe or something and I won't-

Without thinking, you let out a joyful scream and began jumping up and down, the sheer exhilaration bubbling over. Face lighting up as you looked down at the tickets, re-reading them over and over again. "Oh my fucking god!"

He wasn't sure he had ever seen you so happy, not even when your soccer team placed first in regionals or when your parents took you on vacation. Despite his own indifference towards the band, seeing you so elated made it all worth it for him."You like it?"

"Yes!" You jumped around in a little circle, hands holding the tickets shaking as you looked back up at him "I thought you didn't want to go?"

"I listened to their stuff and I changed my mind," He said nonchalantly. That was only half true. He felt bad watching you go through the month, trying to find someone who would go with you and being turned down every single time.

"Eeeek!" You shout again, jaw almost sore from the uncontrollable smile. Kyle thought that in seconds you would be bouncing off the walls. In a very impulsive moment for you, you throw your arms around him in a spontaneous hug. It's the first time you've ever hugged Kyle, and the warmth of your body against yours sends a shiver down his spine.

His frame is taller and more solid than you expected, and you find yourself nestled against his collarbone, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you.

For a split second, neither of you move. His arms hesitate before tentatively wrapping around your back, his hands lightly resting on your waist. You can sense his surprise, his body slightly tensed with uncertainty, yet there's a warmth in the way he holds you. Your own hands, holding the tickets, press against his shoulders, and you feel the firmness of his muscles beneath his shirt.

"Stop fighting!" Your mom rushes into the kitchen at the sound of your shrieking, panic across her face which quickly turns into confusion as she sees you clinging to Kyle.

You break away from him, clearing your throat awkwardly as you stare at your mom, trying to still yourself. You quickly gather yourself, smoothing down your clothes and clutching the concert tickets a little tighter. "Can I pay you to pretend that never happened?"

A/N: So excited for the next chapter 😽

#south park #south park x reader #south park x y/n #kyle broflovski #kyle south park #kyle broflovski x reader #south park kyle #sp kyle #kyle broflovski fluff #tolkien black #tolkien south park #red south park #red mcarthur

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