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sacchared · 2 years ago

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stan “i like her a normal amount (is in love with her)” marsh

💌: as per request, fem! reader.

“You seriously need to shut up about this dumb chick [Y/n].”

“Shut up, fatass!” Stan quickly retorts, only to be completely taken aback when Kyle follows an agreement to him. Kenny even silently nods.

“I don’t talk about her that much.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Stan...” Kyle takes a piece of cookie and shoves it in his mouth. “You might as well marry her straight away from all the lovey dovey stares you give her.”

“What?!”

Kenny does the same, picking a random cookie from the stack that’s designed as cute little characters.

“You’re making it seem like I’m completely head over heels for her. I’m not! If I was, I would be with her right now instead of with you guys, right?”

“Face it, Stan. You’re obsessed.” Cartman deadpans through a mouth full of cookies, completely done with poor Stan’s denial. “Besides, you said she was upset with you. So you reluctantly had to go, dumbass. You said it yourself.”

“That’s not true. I swear! I like her a normal amount.”

“A normal amount...?” All three of them raise their eyebrows at the boy, and Stan feels judged of every bit of his presence there.

“I don’t know any other proper wording.” But that’s not why his friends had stared at him with such condemnatory looks.

He has little doodles of you on the corner of his notebook pages. Flowers surrounding you

“That looks like [Y/n]” *points at flower that has the same colour scheme as your outfit*

Talking to Stan for a few minutes unaware of the soft eyes he’s giving you. The others see this and try not to retch.

Brings you up in conversations that aren’t even about you.

“Stan. Don’t get bitter just because you lost the game. Just do better next time” — kid that has the same talent/hobby as you

“Y/n can ___ better than you, pisspot.” “Good riddance...”

He notices how you always play with your necklace when you’re anxious, or twiddle with the hem of his coat when feeling tense.

He notices that you tilt your head when you say hello. He does this to you every time now.

He knows you curl into a ball when you’re cold. So he gives you his hat, gloves, and coat.

He knows what you prefer between moon, sun, and stars without you even speaking anything of it

He repeats the same catchphrases you say unknowingly.

He corrects his friends about you. Like ...

“I think [Y/n] would like this color of green? Green is the only color available at the moment, so there’s not a lot of options—”

“She’ll take this shade. Thanks”

He fiddles with the bracelet you gave him when he misses you.

He has a candid photo of you giggling as his wallpaper.

He notices how you grab at your shirt to maintain your excitement over little things.

He knows what you prefer between hugging people over or hugging people under.

When you purse your lips he knows you’re about to cry.

Running away from you to puke somewhere else.

He ruffles your hair when he passes you. Then apologizes about messing your hair through text later on.

Alternatively: fixes your hair subconsciously.

Scared to move when you fall asleep on him.

Nearly pukes every time you kiss the tip of his nose.

Buying little trinkets for you at small stores. Then gets embarrassed about it when his friends catch him.

Refusing to pull away from hugs even when the others are complaining about the PDA

Talks about you to his mother but not anyone else from his family (because obviously)

Plays with your fingers when he’s bored

Pinching your cheek solely to annoy you

Passionately defending you even if it’s just a harmless joke regarding you

Small unintentional mumbles of how pretty you look.

Additionally, panic whispers to his friends about how cute you are.

Daydreaming in class about you.

Staring at you instead of what you’re staring at. e.g. sunsets, fireworks, etc.

Blushing at love songs because he ultimately thinks of you.

Additionally repeats the same cringey love songs all over again while he lays in bed because of that.

Hugs his pillows to soothe the desperate need to cuddle you in his bed.

Hiding his reddened face from whatever bare minimum gesture you’ve done. e.g. sneezing, biting your lip in concentration, etc.

Just head invaded with thoughts of you. Pls 🧍🏻‍♀️

“Anyway, it’s really none of your business—what we have going on, I mean,” Stan takes a cookie for himself. “We’re as secluded as possible. It’s not my fault your lonely asses like to stick yourselves in.”

“Fuck, just be quiet, Stan. We get it.”

“Mhm... Look, this cookie looks like [Y/—”

“Shut up!”

TAGLIST : @mmmaackerel @hellokitty-girl666 @okarigold @reveruse @freshmom2003 pls tell me if you don’t wanna be tagged in this!!

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘. 𝐤. 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐢 [prologue]

— alt. ending of A Ladder To Escape

SYPNOSIS: Kyle had completely lost love for you, it wasn’t the same anymore, so he had to cut ties. What is this longing feeling you both unknowingly share? Kyle feeds on his attention for his friends to fill the gap—yet, nothing. On the other hand, you gradually heal with the help of someone you hadn’t even expected to talk to you.

angst. hurt/comfort. gn! reader.

💌 : Someone recently commented on the Kyle fic, asking for him to fall back in love as an alternative ending... And I decided to turn this into a series 😍 (in contrary to the original fic being more of a drabble). Also I genuinely don’t like how I wrote that fic so this is a redemption for it, of some sort 😭

next >>> || [01] , [02] , [03]

Kyle always fought the urge to glance in your direction.

You made an effort to keep everything from bothering you, including Kyle’s apparent indifference to your absence and the never-ending anxiety people had for you—despite your assurances that things will soon get better. Nevertheless, not even you were certain.

Eric himself said your endeavors to grin gets “creepy” the more you try, others just describe you as sad.

You didn’t want to be pitied. It was ridiculous, you’ll be alright. There was no reason for them to act this way. Yet, you’re no longer able to fool yourself as well.

You recently had a significant piece of your chest extirpated, and now you fill the void with pointless remnants that will only enlarge it. Pointless remnants and scraps like a yearning—a feeling of longing, more so.

Easy laughter and awkward smiles. Tear-stained cheeks and hushed words. Sweaty foreheads and swollen lips.

He gave you wild flowers wrapped in twine because his friends accidentally ruined your bouquet. He first kissed you on the red brick bridge, soon pushed into the water by Cartman. He cupped your cheeks swearing there’s no one else in the world that makes him as happy as you do.

He just wiped those away with a single swipe of his gloved hands, and despite your sniffles and secret sobs, he even had the nerve to turn around and leave.

Yet when he brought it up, you agreed to the breakup.

You said that no one should be pushed into a relationship with someone they don’t love, but his averted eyes missed your hurt expression.

Even though you accepted and comprehended everything, you really wanted to slap Kyle. You had to scream and ask what you could have lacked for him to stop loving you. How? When? Why?

He was cruel. So, so, cruel.

After your final exchange, you removed the fairy lights from your chamber in anger.

Sob after cry every time you pulled a string from your ceiling.

The fairy lights that gradually flickered into the darkness of your room felt as though everything around you had collapsed into nothing after the very last pull.

“Hey.”

Was that Kyle?

Your trance was cut off as a warm hand forces your head to face up: bored eyes and blue chullo hat.

“Eat up, [L/n]. Your food’s getting cold.”

You look at your tray. Nothing had moved, not a bite nor a nibble. You feared that if you did, you'd spew out every morsel of food you had eaten.

In addition of it being from thinking of a particular red-head boy, it would be because the school food wasn’t always good now that Chef isn’t around.

“You’re wasting food, you know. If you didn’t want to eat it, why get food from here in the first place?”

The clatter of people’s eating implements and chatter fill up the silence that would have been there as you didn’t reply. The tray is pushed aside by Craig’s hand, and a teal lunch box suddenly takes its place in front of you.

Beside you, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his corduroy. “My mom made it for me, but I didn't want it.”

...

“So, you can have it.”

A soft murmur escapes your lips, but it doesn’t make out to be any sensical sentence.

“Return it to me once school is over.”

Your hands make their way to the sides of the box. Before you could give it back to him, Craig had already begun to leave. You had no energy to oppose, so you only furrow your eyebrows at the bento, eventually taking the spoon and fork from your discarded tray.

On the other side of the cafeteria, Craig returns to the other guys that stood by the entranceway—the bento box no longer in his hand, to their notice.

“Damn it, Craig, what took you so long?” Cartman fusses. Craig only shrugs mockingly in response.

“Who’d you give the bento to?”

“No one.”

Tolkien raises an eyebrow at his friend’s dismissive behavior, but insists on heading their way.

Stan and Kyle converse among themselves. Their chatter coming to an abrupt end as Kenny pulls the redhead back, leading Stan to stop as well.

“What?”

“Look.”

Kyle is hesitant, but he looks in the direction of Kenny’s finger, and feels the skin between his thick brows crease.

“That has nothing to do with me.” He turns on his heel and leaves, leaving the two to exchange unreadable glances.

TAGLIST : @mmmaackerel @hellokitty-girl666 @okarigold @reveruse @freshmom2003 pls tell me if you don’t wanna be tagged in this!!

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐤. 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐢 [02]

<<< previous || next >>> || [00] , [01] , [03]

I’m frequently immersed in schoolworks, too busy to pay mind to how I look; in contrast to how I used to be before I was swamped with tasks and responsibilities.

It was an annoyance, and sometimes my friends would look at me in concern; questioning me if I had slept or eaten. I guess nothing has really changed.

I never understood how overachievers still manage to look so pretty despite being in the same situation as I am. It was unfair, and I'd ask them how if I had the guts to do so. Wendy Testaburger, for example. I’m just like her, but at the same time, not.

Maybe I wasn't pretty enough. Maybe my lips felt parched against his. Maybe someone was simply better. I mean, I can see it.

Kyle's eyes have always been easy for me to read. Certainly it used to. But it’s hard to miss the way they follow the movements of another.

Though it's odd. I had lost track of how to determine what Kyle feels. Even through his “genuine” laughs, he looks void of emotion, at least to me; perhaps I'm just delusional. I am.

The connection between us must have truly been cut, if that’s the case—as corny as it sounds. He’s just another stranger now. Someone in the background.

Yet, undoubtedly, Kyle looks at Heidi Turner the same way he used to look at me.

...

You click your tongue as you lift the pen from your paper. A dark pool forms on the page, rendering the last few words entirely illegible. Fortunately you hadn’t written much on the draft. Though it still sucks, the words that nearly come out as blather kiss each other as you crumple the paper up and toss it into the trash can— at least attempted to. It barely made it in, and you frown at it from above your desk, as if to blame it for something that’s definitely your fault.

The rain bangs on your bedroom window, crying to be let in to soak the floor and the walls. It's causing a commotion, which only contributes to the distractions and ideas you obviously don’t want to think about. Instead of creating an essay you were supposed to, you mistakingly delved into your thoughts, rather having a longer one already written in your head. Though it’s something you wouldn’t quite submit to the teacher.

You wish you could spit out a thousand-word essay just like you used to, just like you could do with your thoughts. As simple as the topic of the essay is, you find it hard to completely focus on your work.

‘Should Plastic Be Banned?’ I don’t know. Should it? You stare at your pen. The shell is plastic. You don‘t understand why the topic sounds like it’s for eighth-graders. But you don’t have a say in it.

You breathe out, letting your eyes pan around the gloomy room as you take in the grayish tones that hardly illuminate your chamber—due to the rain blurring out every conceivable glimpse of the outside world. You can only hear the rain pounding against every surface in its path, including the roof, the road, and, evidently, your window. It’s so serene that you fight the urge to even spare a glance at your well-made bed. All you want to do is sleep and sink into the cushions, never to arise nor wake up again.

You bring the pen to your opposite hand, letting the ink glide across your palm. The needle trickles you, but you continue nonetheless. ‘Buy noice-cancelling headphones,’ you note to yourself, or rather on your hand. Though if you bought it sooner, you would miss the doorbell that rang just now. Were you expecting someone? You’ve been forgetting even the simplest things you should remember.

You practically drag yourself out of your chair, paying no mind to the papers that scattered on the floor behind you. “I should probably fix that later,” you deadpan.

The trip downstairs was excruciatingly slow, and the ringing of the doorbell only spurred you to keep going. You peek through the sidelights, almost wanting to scoff at yourself for having to squint through in an attempt to see better. But all you see is water. “Who...?” you question at no one in particular, limbs almost giving out once you reached the front door. Your lazy hands wobble over the knob, and you twist it: a pair of bored eyes and a chullo hat.

“You didn’t give me my lunch box.”

You flush, “...Oh.”

Craig stands still in front of you, water dripping down his chin and a few portions of his hair. I guess I was right; I even forget things I should remember. “Sorry... I just have a lot in mind right now,” You sheepishly smile, knowing it’s hardly a good reason for him to walk all the way to your place to retrieve something he offered out of generosity. ...Was it generosity?

He didn't say anything, but peered around the house, noting the plethora of photos on the wall next to you. The majority were of family members, each from a different event such as a burial, birthday, wedding, among others. In each of them, you were a different age. You stood perplexed in front of him. The deafening rain surrounds Craig, everything around him looks so hazy, except for him himself. Your house appears ill-lit. The dim light from outside casts a rectangular shape over you from the entrance. It frames you in.

You never thought you’d see Craig on your doorstep, only for the mere reason of retaking his lunch box. It was so unlike him. He could have texted you—your number isn’t hard to ask from Kenny or Stan. Though they only have your number if it concerns Kyle, so it wouldn’t be a surprise to find that your contact has already been deleted.

But then again, you don’t really know who Craig Tucker is.

“Come in,” you step aside. Craig grunted as he pulled his rain coat off, and you instinctively offer your hand out to grab it for him. But instead, he simply places it on the coat rack himself. You pull the hand to your chest, watching the water trickle down onto the wooden floor. ... As an attempt to push yourself out of the stifling ambience, you stroll over to your couch to hurriedly toss a few throw pillows in place. "I haven't washed your lunch box... So sit here for a bit," you offer, not looking at him. Yet, you could feel his icy blue eyes watching your every move, and you can see his faint shadow towering above you. His weight sinks onto the couch. You meander over to your bag and grab out his lunch box.

He’s still and unspeaking... You don’t know what he’s looking at, nor do you know what he’s thinking of. Yet you open the kitchen sink to let the water wash over the left-over contents in the box, trying to not be overwhelmed by his intimidating presence. But, Jesus Christ, you already are. It’s almost menacing, it almost feels as if he’s not here at all. Yet anxiety continues to bubble beneath your stomach. He’s tall even as he sits, it’s hard to not feel his presence lingering in the corner of your eye.

It was just a few minutes ago that you wished the rain didn’t shout so loud, but right now you’re glad it’s there to fill in the silence between the two of you.

You let the soap bubbles captivate you, take over your vision with it’s snow-like visual and frothy structure. You observe the smallest rainbow tints of it, the way it changes color each slightest tilt of your head, like a holographic surface—as of a compact disc’s.

You wash it over and over again, completely aware of your own stalling in a desperate way to not talk to this nearly unfamiliar guy behind you. You think over your words. You end up convincing yourself to believe that— the sooner I finish, the sooner he leaves.

“Thanks for this, by the way.” Craig’s eyes pan towards you, pulling away from the picture frames lined up along the walls. He turns his head, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t speak much earlier, I was too into my thoughts. As I said, I have a lot in mind.” You look down into his glacial eyes that stare back at you with aloofness. You can’t help but question. “But, I wanna know...” He stands up as he takes the lunch box from your hands. “Why’d you give it? I mean, we never really talked. I almost thought you didn’t like me at all.”

He stares at you, “Let’s make a deal.”

Hearing this, your shoulders drop— a sense of perplexity and indignation weighing over them like dumbbells. He words it like a demand more than an offer, it’s nearly irksome. “Excuse me?” He takes note of the way you glower, a grin tugging at your lips that showcases no amusement. He looks so nonchalant... “We had an encounterment with Stan’s friends just earlier, and we thought that you should be friends with us.”

You feel your head pulse. Craig’s explanation is so vague, you can’t even form the right questions to ask. Hearing him allude to “Stan’s friends” as if it had been a split between the usual party was worth an eyebrow to raise at, but most importantly, what could you have to do with this? You never associated much with Kyle’s friends, but you were mostly around Stan, Eric, and Kenny. You didn’t interact much with the others, which kind of sucked. But Kyle never seemed to communicate much with them either, unless it concerned a hangout, or a plan. It was like a friendgroup forming an alliance with another—it almost reminds you of the Elementary days.

Craig wonders why you look so angry, why you seem to be in a fit of pique. He doesn’t notice it, but his eyebrows tug a bit. Sure, he can’t blame you for him just so suddenly offering a deal. But why is it that your scowl is nearly telling him to leave? You haven’t even heard of what he was about to say. Can’t you be a bit more patient?

For a second, he almost forgets what else he has to say. But his thoughts race just fast enough for him to recall. “Be friends with us—Tolkien, Clyde, Tweek, and Jimmy. We assume you have a grudge to hold against him and we have something against all of them too.”

“Craig,” you spit his name out like venom, “You act like you’d rather watch the sun burn out rather than be in my presence. Our interaction earlier today was confusing, but it means nothing. If that was your way of saying ‘sorry’, then you should at least say it to my face.”

Craig looks unfazed.

“Now, you want me to make a deal with you guys? I hardly know who you people are.”

It’s true. Craig acted blasé towards everyone, but you found him to be exceptionally frigid towards you. And you couldn’t seem to find a reason why. You still can’t. Flipping you off has gotten less surprising over time, but you can still feel his gaze drilling holes through you. As a result, you would segregate yourself from him and his friends. He would practically shove you when he passed, or would stand ambiguously near—disregarding your comfort zone.

Even Kyle at one point had to tell Craig off, telling him it was creepy and rude. Craig never said anything in response, merely glancing over to you once their stare down was over; you recall shivering in place from his piercing gaze. Kyle had grown leery over Craig after that. Yet you can’t help but wonder about the discreet glares Kyle always shot him even before Craig started acting strange. Maybe there was some unspoken conflict between them that you didn’t know. Maybe Kyle didn’t tell you everything after all.

He places the box on your coffee table, reciprocating your eye contact as he returns to his recent posture. You can’t help but feel small infront of him, under his gaze. “Alright,” he starts, “I’m sorry.”

...He’s so composed that it almost feels ingenuine. But it can’t be helped—he's always been this way. He can see the perplexity painted on your face, and he finds himself mirroring you. What’s with that look? You both wonder. You assess the chances of whether he meant the apology or not, but it was no use. You wish you could delve into his mind, hear what he thinks, see what he sees. But Craig is like a crab. It’s hard to break through.

You soften a bit, it was neither forgiveness nor resentment. Craig remains unfazed, or at least that’s what it seems to you. It wasn’t a big deal anyways.

But, another question runs through your head, keeping you apprehensive and still. Your eyes move in confusion; shifting to Craig’s face, his chest, his shoulder, the ceiling, anything but back to his cold, bored, eyes. The same eyes that remain fixated on yours no matter how much they wander around to avoid his. It rolls off your tongue, and a feeling of uncertainty washes over you. I already know how this goes, you think, yet you want to say “Yes, I’ll do it.”

What are you even supposed to do in this said deal? Just be there to tick off Kyle? Would it be that easy to push his limits?

...Yeah, it might be.

Other than being easily angered, bro code has always been something they chanted all the way from fourth grade. Somehow, they always find a way to break this said code—they might as well hate each other. You always wonder how they manage to stick by after all those intense fights and disputes, but you suppose that’s what makes them inseparable. Though it’s not like any of them would date you; you’d be pissed off to find your friends are suddenly getting close with your ex.

“So... You’re gonna use me?” As it finally falls of your lips, you nibble on the bottom piece. For a split second, a faint gleam flickers in his eyes. Pity? Amusement? Agreement? You can’t tell, but he cuts off your thoughts as soon as you wonder. “Tolkien, Clyde... The others. They feel bad for you too. You’ve been lonely, and whether you want to admit it or not, you need a friend.” He sounds like he’s reading off a script in his head.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. His face shifts in confusion too, his brows furrowing at you. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you ever since. It feels like it’s been an eternity of the two of you standing, and staring, and mirroring. You can feel the déjà vu trickle down your body. The rain doesn’t seem to stop.

He’s nowhere near even being a friend of yours to just bring up the topic so casually. But you don’t say a word. The eye contact feels heavy, you don't know how much you can hold it.

“I feel bad for you too.”

...

“And maybe, I could be your friend. Hang with us in Tweek’s café, Y/N.”

Your lips part a bit, Craig catches it. You can see the sincere glint in his eyes now. His eyelids still hang low, but something feels off. Yet it doesn’t feel wrong, even when you know he’s lying. You fight the urge to rub your temple in an attempt to assuage the aching headache that’s been dancing across your head the entire day. The talk with Mrs. LaBlanc earlier had already been a pain to handle, why is it that everything just had to run up to you all at once?—now that you have a big paper to write.

You anxiously twiddle with your fingers. “I... Still have some stuff to do.” Craig’s hand grabs onto your arm, forcing you to look back at him. “Come on,” he pleaded. It sounded like pleading, and you find yourself giving in. You huff, and Craig takes it as a yes, a small smile pulls on his lips. Now there seems to be some understanding.

You pull away from his grasp, tearing off his smile with it. “Is it far?” You ask. You’ll save the more important questions for later—like, what the hell happened.

<<< previous || next >>> || [00] , [01] , [03]

TAGLIST : @mmmaackerel @hellokitty-girl666 @okarigold @reveruse @freshmom2003 @m4chine-girl @friendly-reject @houniei @tiniewife @1one1person1 @yourslashersfinalgirl @catgogrrr @doctormoth @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @macncheese69420666 @bath1lda @shinsousama @brettlikestoslamthe-jam @itsrosebabe @strgirlx @ellzbellz18

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐤. 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐢 [01]

<<< previous || next >>> || [00] , [02] , [03]

a/n: chapter focuses on only one scene and might leave you guys hung up, so i posted 1 more <3 kinda scared about how this’ll turn out because of the length, i feel that i should have just published this on ao3 😭

The chatter of the hallway comes to a muffled audio after the shut of the door. Finally, their rambles about whatever’s happening in lives you have no business knowing about quiets down. Yet, Mrs. LaBlanc seems to have some business knowing yours. ... The air-conditioning vent above rumbles, your nose wrinkles at the familiar room in front of you. Get out of it... You hear it whisper... You will. You are not going to play the “spill-your-guts” game with anyone. Why bother having the heart-to-heart conversation that won’t yield any result? You’ll fall flat.

However, it looks like there’s no one to avoid playing this aforementioned game after all. You stare at Mrs. LaBlanc’s desk, empty. Her desk is a piled mess of papers, pencil cups, and clutter—something you normally wouldn’t see. Something must have came up. Otherwise, she must be at the lounge finishing her bagel and coffee.

Blinking, you turn to look around the space, gaze landing on the chairs that wait to be relocated in the center front of Mrs. LaBlanc’s table. It all depends on the number of kids sent to the Counselor. Two or more typically indicates that conflict broke out; one juggles between the child needing comfort or prudential regulation. Though oddly enough, you don’t recall doing anything wrong, so the abrupt calling of your name prior was so out-of-the-blue. If the situation falls on you having been accused into some trouble with another kid again, you swear under your breath that you’ll just turn around and leave.

Personally, you typically remain in your own orbit, entirely breezed by everyone else's squabbles. It's how you fled from most of the typical school drama in your previous years. But in South Park, that doesn't work. In fact, because you're generally distant from school buzz and morsels, they’ll take advantage of you—some random cameo. Apparently you aren’t able to spend a life in South Park without a single rumour being told over you, it doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. Some people will dislike you for breathing the wrong way, regardless. Sometimes it feels like South Park is a fever dream, but maybe it’s just how it reflects the way reality is.

You did nothing but cast sidelong looks at people over the previous week. So being announced to meet with the Counselor after lunch turned the heads of some people around too. Admittedly, you could care less.

Your eyes are drawn to a small potted plant in the corner. California poppies. Poppies that are fresh, blooming, and well. You look away, thoughts racing as if another spare glance at the flowers would have you regressed under a depressing hypnotism—which is what it will do.

Where is she? How long does one damn bagel take?

While you sit, the poppies begin to reappear in your view. No matter how much you fight it, its vibrant amber orange transcends all the other colors in the room, and a part of you wants to snip it all in half. Toss it out the window as the pot breaks on the pavement. But the reminders won't go away on their own. You remember it all, and it’s only been two weeks: It began with the potted poppies that you forgot to water.

It was so sudden, Kyle turned away from the kisses as if you were no more than a fly swarming in his vicinity. Yet, Kyle seemed too miserable to reprimand you. Why didn’t he just tell you off? Was that so difficult?

When you kissed him, he didn’t kiss you back. And you shot him a confused look that he didn’t spare a glance at. Instead, your window was where his eyes were glued on, but when you turned, there was nothing there. Only the pitch-black, starless sky. Nothing but two birds sitting on the windowsill next to the poppies. His gaze was so distant, so void of emotion. It felt like he wasn't even there.

Surprised at how long the poppies managed to survive, you replanted them in a pot. Hell, if you had known that it would simply decide to draw its last inhale of sunlight three days later, you would have just stored them in an urn and thrown its dried petals at Kyle. The poppies on the sill were already dead when you watered them. Four days later you and Kyle are still dicey. But you dressed up in the outfit Kyle used to say you look so pretty in. You went out with him hand-in-hand, his grip was peculiarly tighter—it almost hurt. It wasn’t endearing; it almost felt desperate.

Soon, Kyle wasn’t there anymore. The dead poppies on the windowsill were the only flowers that mattered. You wish you had noticed. You should have. You should have watered the poppies. What if you had?

“Y/N.” You crane your neck to see, though you already know who it is. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. Let’s just get started, okay?” Her presence should have relieved you, yet your leg starts to bounce as you nod at her. Mrs. LaBlanc flips through some of her paperwork while you look around the room. Posters of smiling teens fill the walls with phrases like “We’re in this together” and “One step at a time.” Really.

The room is cluttered with stacks of paper, greeting cards haphazardly tacked to the walls, boxes of books, two backpacks lying in the corner, post-it notes placed all around the edges of the computer and along the ledge of the bookcase. Mrs. LaBlanc also counsels the Elementary school—which is on the other side of the campus. What happened to Mr. Mackey? You might not ever know. It's the same feeling as when this random maniacal idealist in sporty sunglasses took Principal Victoria’s place.

LaBlanc is also the sister-in-law of Mr. Lewis, who sits with his lovely fiancé just two houses away from your own. Sometimes South Park is too small.

Seeing no point in trying to declutter the mess, Mrs. LaBlanc mumbles an incoherent expression of what you assumed to be a modest complaint. The atmosphere is thick on your behalf. You oafishly shift your gaze around the room in an effort to divert yourself, before the jarring sound of Mrs. LaBlanc’s chair being dragged over. Cringing, you feel your shoulders tighten up into the sides of your neck, the rubber glides of the chair squeak agonizingly against the hardwood floor.

Once she’s seated in front of you—just like how Mr. Mackey did—she shuffles through papers, discerning two particular ones with red marks that seem all-too familiar.

“Well, let’s see...” She clears her throat, now anxiety seeps in. A knot tightens in your throat, while you simultaneously weep in your head despite already recognizing what's at stake.

“A ‘C’ in Social Studies and a ‘C’ minus—” she accentuates the minus— “in English.”

Her gaze is drawn to you, and she lowers her chin somewhat, a silent invitation to react. And you do, but with an awkward stare and lingering focus on the test papers; which isn‘t really a reaction, oops. This was bound to happen.

“This seems strange for you, Y/N. A few teachers also notified me that you’ve been less active in class. Dozing off, they said.”

You subconsciously sneer, training your eyes to the side to somewhat ease the urge to roll them.

Y/N this ... Y/N that ... Y/N, why aren't you speaking? ... Y/N, you're being lazy ... Y/N, are you going dull-witted? ... Y/N, lazy, unmoving Y/N ... Every effort and accomplishment you’ve ever had was inconsequential, like a hush-hush. Yet they catch every little misstep, and before you know it, you’re in the Counselor’s office. They have a habit of nitpicking. They swing their legs joyfully as they lay on the grassy field, humming a tune as they pick flowers to give to you—only they purposely grab the ugliest ones yet, even those that are only fainter in color. It’s nothing but annoying.

The air-conditioning rumbles again—repeating the same warning it growled to you the first step you took in this room. But it never truly stopped, so you wouldn’t really call it ‘again.’

She hums. “Your silence speaks volumes.” Mrs. LaBlanc’s tone jump is so stern, you can’t help but shrink a bit in your seat. You only ever hear that tone during the few times you accompanied her bollocking kids who fucked up. To be clear, you never visited the Counselor too often—in fact, you have never been sent here for your own solo regards before. It would either draw you accusingly into somebody's skylarkings (as Mr. Mackey put it) or make you deal with somebody's skylarkings. After all, you were regarded as “the confidante of the many”, that sort of thing.

However you thought it was unethical that the Counselor herself had to seek assistance from a student. But that's just how difficult the South Park teens are, how even the kids and adults are. That's how difficult you are right now, and you’d be lying if you said that you don’t already regret putting on such a sour attitude recently. But is it really your fault? After the separation with Kyle, everyone just seemed to like pissing on your stick lately.

Your fingers come into an entanglement as Mrs. LaBlanc continuously rolls over a pile of papers. You never realized how much of an impact your sudden drop of grades would cause. Frankly, it was a bit of an exaggeration, but you can’t help but admit how much of an embarrassment it is to just suddenly fall from your place because you were feeling sad. Secretly, you hope that Mrs. LaBlanc’s irritated stare was merely a result of whatever was keeping her so buried in paperwork all of a sudden. You soon realize that you’re right, so you exhale. Her eyes soften. Mrs. LaBlanc looks down, drowned in thought for a bit, before looking up at you with a gentler approach. She speaks, soft and hush, yet barely a whisper. “How was meeting up with Kyzo?”

Your stomach churns and the sense of comfort quickly washes away—unable to process the right answer. Right, you told her a few days ago about Kyzo out of excitement. You and Mrs. LaBlanc often had a few small conversations upon you submitting responsibilities she had given.

She’s still waiting, so eager yet so patient for your answer. You wish you just didn’t tell her anything at all. You can’t help but shuffle under her humane gaze. The same gaze that feels too familiar, you can’t place a finger on it. That alone is enough for you to not like it at all.

Thoughts of Kyle had invaded your thoughts recently, needless to say. None of them are pleasant. But you usually didn't allow yourself to think about your younger brother too often. Kyzo’s been gone for almost two years now. After Dad’s last breath, Mom decided the environment would be too unhealthy for Kyzo—and at that time, she wasn’t talking about South Park.

Kyzo would go stay with Aunt Patsy and Uncle Gael, just ‘till Mom got over it. It was only supposed to be for a few weeks, but then those few turned into a few more, and then more, and soon everyone seemed to forget that Kyzo ever lived with you and Mom.

Everyone acted like it was normal, and you stopped asking when he would come home.

So the past week you started asking when he’d come to see you, everyday it was a different and unsure answer from Mom. Eventually, she must have gotten weary of your endless queries, so she told you that he’d arrive on Thursday. That was yesterday. You never got to meet him.

“It was okay. He was great. Bigger than I last saw him.”

She’s apprehensive, and her gaze shifts from one of your eyes to the other, as if she’s looking for something you can't quite pinpoint. Perhaps a lie? Could my lies easily be traced? Her lips purse slightly as she sways her head to the side with a hush sigh, aligning the papers in her palm before returning them to their proper position on the desk.

“How about your mom? How is she?”

Now you fight the urge to furrow your eyebrows at her. She’s assuming your sudden downfall must have been a product of some family issue. And although it may be one of the reasons you’ve been holding back, you know it’s a different Ky that’s causing so much ruckus in your personal life. And it’s amusing. Because all he does is sit and smile with his friends. That’s all it takes for your chest to tighten.

You haven’t even answered, and she already strolls onto the following question. “You and Kyle?”

You gulp. A “knowing” smile tugs on Mrs. LaBlanc’s face, but you’d prefer to call it an oblivious one. You bite your lip and wished the seconds flew by as fast as your bouncing leg and fidgety hands. It’s all so overwhelming; her gaze, the A.C.’s warnings, the california poppies sliding into view. You know that keeping silent will get you nowhere. You lied about Kyzo—and whether or not Mrs. LaBlanc saw through it doesn't matter. You can lie about another one. She'll take the lie, or she won't. But you get out of this anxiety inducing discussion one way or another.

“Y/N.” She reaches out and lays her hand on the arm of your chair. She's so close that you can count the lines fanning out from her eyes. “It's gonna be okay, alright? You don't have to bottle up these emotions anymore. You've done enough.”

Mrs. LaBlanc's face is too near to yours, and the impulse to cry is torn between the sudden solace she's providing you and the need to breathe out of her face. You desperately want to pull back, so you can look at your shoes, the walls, the post-it-notes on the computer, but there isn't room for your eyes to drift. God, you need room.

Mrs. LaBlanc’s dark brown eyes hold you, pinning you against the chair. What does she want? I can't breathe.

It’s so quiet. You can hear the wall clock turning and clicking. You wish that was the only thing that mattered right now. The turning and clicking of the clock is the only thing Mrs. LaBlanc should need to hear, not you or what she wants you to say. What does she even want you to say?

“I know that you think this has something to do with personal problems and stuff. Me and my family are doing fine. Great, actually,” You trail off, waging an internal war as you strive with every cell in your body to maintain eye contact. Mrs. LaBlanc’s expression is unreadable, as always. Slowly you find that you’re not gonna get through her anytime soon.

You kind of liked this about Mrs. LaBlanc—she’s opaque, and her talent of suppressing her emotions is inevitably impressive. But at times it can get intimidating, you don’t know what she’s thinking. Therefore you forget to think as well; it’s like an instinct for you to keep going. So you do.

“Just because my grades fell a bit doesn’t midpoint anything. One, two small slips and now I’m sitting in the Counselor’s office. Everything good I did doesn’t seem to matter. How much more do I need to satisfy?”

Mrs. LaBlanc is not thrown off and does not hesitate. You see no signs of shock or disgust on her face. An imaginary pat on the back was what you felt for not spilling anything, yet you lost anyway. The subtle hints from your maundering was enough to give everything away. Great job, you.

“Alright, then,” she smiles this time. “Mr. Mackey had always told me you had quite the attitude.” Your eyebrows raise a bit, and Mrs. LaBlanc finds herself enjoying your company more and more. Though she knows it’s not the same for you.

Soon, you were released from her clutches—Mrs. LaBlanc and her dark, blurry, stapler eyes.

Just as soon as you thought that you could finally bask in the warmth outside, a familiar cold breeze hits your skin, shuffling awkwardly into your coat as a shiver creeps up. South Park itself is already cold enough, what could they need an A.C. for?

<<< previous || next >>> || [00] , [02] , [03]

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ AMBER k. broflovski

— It felt as though Kyle led you on despite being with you for the past year. He never gave you an explanation, never gave you why or how. You fell into a spiral, falling off from your academics and growing distant from everyone around you. Your family has been an addition to the set of troubles you have to face, and lately they haven’t been quite the help.

However, it looks like everything between you and Kyle wasn’t the only thing that split. Craig sought you for assistance in exacting retribution against the "other half" of their friend group—or at least what used to be a friend group. You did nothing but comply blindly, even though it could do nothing good on your behalf. But even so, it could do no wrong, either. What else was there to do?

CHAPTERS : 00 , 01 , 02 , 03 ...

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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MASTERLIST ☆

main 4 [ kyle, stan, eric, kenny ]

craig's gang [craig, tweek, clyde, tolkien, jimmy ]

other students [ random. best to just check! ]

foreign kids [ only pip, damien, christophe, and gregory atm ]

SERIES ⊹ ₊

AMBER — kyle broflovski x reader || angst, hurt/comfort || DISCONTINUED

→ falling out of love + healing with the help of a friend

→ desc. || 00 || 01 || 02

A1 CONDITION — various! sp x reader || DISCONTINUED

→ golden child trope + your cliché harem

OTHERS ★

↳ envy + gender neutral. fluff. any pov. [fem char. if reader's pov]

↳ eddie munson w/ girly s/o + fem reader. fluff. [this was random..]

𝐀 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 (𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥)

I understand this announcement may be indifferent to a lot of people, since I’ve barely been active enough for my memory or writing to be carved in peoples minds. And I understand the absolute disappointment the people—who have been waiting for their requests to be published or for a new chapter of Amber to be posted—are feeling. I’m really sorry. I don’t think being a fanfic writer is for me

To start; I started getting into writing around late 2021, I had this huge fantasy novel building up in my head. I was so enthralled by my own idea that I spread the word around to my friends. Every small occurence gave me a huge idea—may it be a simple conversation or a certain part of a song. My notes for this said novel were very, very convoluted. I made my own art of the characters, I added and added more lore to the story as ideas went on. I was so hyperfixated on my own novel, that I worked on everything but Chapter 1 itself. From that on, I realized that I'm a writer who is constantly on writers block. I’ve given up on the novel, but my notes are still cluttered somewhere in the pile of my old journals and Notes app.

Rolling around last year, March 2022, I’ve gotten into writing for a somewhat peculiar fandom��that was no other than South Park—on my old account, @nsmhrniki. I loved the idea of creating stories for people to feed their hyperfixations, to somewhat make their daydreams to life. Around that time there was only a very small amount of people who wrote for South Park, from what I remember maybe around eight writers—nothing compared to how popular it is right now. So I got known to the small community pretty quick.

When I first started, I overworked myself so hard because I was fueled with just the small amount of supporters I had—by the mere number of 35 followers, I was overjoyed.

But that’s exactly what led to this. As the number grew bigger, I found myself becoming more and more drawn to it. Feverishly clawing for even just scraps of validation, to the point writing wasn’t even the reason I kept on. And as I did, I watched new writers grow bigger than me, and I felt tiny. I watched as they reached milestones that I’m just nearly halfway through, watched as people loved them more. It was unfair, I thought, but it really wasn’t. I feverishly checked my inbox in such a religious fashion, begging there’d be a comment telling me I’ve done a good job. It couldn’t be helped

I love writing, though when I’m at this role, it sort of feels like a chore rather than a hobby. I guess it’s not really my thing :'). I thought it was, just because of the validation and praise I got—which I admit is quite unhealthy and concerning ... But I want writing to be something passionate for me again. I was so drunken by the idea of feeling loved, that I couldn’t function properly without having a peek at my notifications.

Aside from that, it’s totally unfair to leave all of you hanging constantly. I return and then I leave. I understand if people have grown tired of it. I’m actually surprised my followers still continue to grow everyday.

I really want to thank the people who have given me support throughout my time here in Tumblr. Though my attachment was unhealthy, my appreciation is pure and genuine :'). You were the people in my life that offered me comfort just through the simple act of interacting. Thank you, everyone, really.

By tomorrow, I will be deactivating my account and will bid my last farewell. You have some time to enjoy the remaining of my poorly done fics ^^' ... Thank you for being part of this rather rollercoasteresque journey, that majority of you didn’t even know occured behind the screen :') . ♡

📌 navigation + sp masterlist

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 ★ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 ★ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐯 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞

✰ — Like every other person, I've seen her around the corners of the area. Sometimes around people who she surrounds herself with, other times alone. Enjoying the solitude of her own presence as if there were no one else there. At first, she was just another leaf on my plant; similar to the others, still vital, still in the community. The flowers are people in your life that were significant, important, and added particular colors to the plant that is your life.

Although that may have been a lie–her being a leaf, I mean. I can't really help but stare at her as if she's some sort of rare flower, something I have no idea about at all, yet stands out so effortlessly. I think she's interesting–I guessed that was all I thought about her although my limits remain unrecorded.

My gaze would remain fixed on her everytime she passed. Such that if I turned away, as I did so, she would be gone, as if she had never been there. As though she were an impossible dream.

And it went on. From across the room, the stars struck in my eyes with interest. Sometimes I wonder whether she even perceives my gaze as if it were some kind of physical laser. I wonder if I looked stupid. Maybe I did. I hope no one glances at me when I do so then.

It was hard to turn away, my eyes keep scanning her every move and I'm praying that I'm not being strange. She was attractive– pleasing to the eye, but not in the same way as a display-worthy old doll. She's what some would describe as alluring, gorgeous. I guess what I'm trying to say, to summarize the nonsense I've been talking, is that she's pretty.

In all honesty, I suppose I should admit that I was jealous. I indulge in it, tapping my pen lightly against my chin as I gaze at her again. There's no denying that her hair is something to envy about. People claim that having attractive hair is important for framing your face, defining your features, and overall just looking good. It's the final flourish, and her hair just observes each one. It sits wonderfully, has a slight sheen, and appears just so pretty. She would have had a precise hair care routine to have her hair look so gorgeous, as though many expensive products were put on it. She might perhaps simply be flawless.

Her eyelashes further define her eyes, add to their beauty. Her lips have a pink hue to them naturally as it slightly shimmers in the light. The way she talks and how she dresses.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be her. Having people swoon for you in the background without your knowledge, with thoughts of you dominating their daily dreams and desires to be you or be with you. While all you do is sit there and be pretty.

I wanna be just like her.

There was an energy about her that was palpable. I felt a magnetic draw toward her; and yet I, for some reason, just let it be. I let it pull me towards her because what else was there to do? I find… solace? Peacefulness–comfort in just simply watching her be pretty from a distance. I would sometimes notice myself sulking even somewhat when she wasn't around, like a weigh is put on my shoulders when I don't see her in the same spot I see her everyday. when I meet her again tomorrow, it's entirely gone, ascension as if it was never there.

She would occasionally be in a flower field where I would discover her, usually as dusk was falling. Is it odd that I started frequenting this location specifically for her? Despite the great distance separating us, something about the way the flowers looked surrounding her and me was sort of soothing. The calmness and the only sound was the wind rustling the leaves. While we focus on our individual concerns, the flowers around us dance a little. Nobody else is present and nothing else is significant. Just her and I were there.

I feel as though I don't need to stare at her all the time during moments like this. Her mere presence sufficed. The sun's golden beams cast a golden hue over the grass's green color and the many representing other colors. When the sun finally goes down, I look at her instead of the scene in front of me. Her skin shimmers from soaking up the last of the golden light. Her hair moves a little as a result of the slight breeze.

She was so many words I couldn't put into. Pretty was too basic, too simple. Yet it was was perfect for her, in a way. It was confusing, and I kept on confusing myself. If I wasn't so obsessed with her, I'd describe her as charming. I wouldn't need to over analyze how I feel about her and how I describe. Charming–something I'd call someone as attractive as her with no strings of such...

Maybe it was the way she'd rarely smile.

She smiles often. But it would be something of– maybe in a way she found something funny, maybe amusing. A confident smile she wears, knowing she will never play about, never leave herself in the dirt astray. I'm talking about a certain smile, a specific... What's the word–warm smile. Genuine warm; it gives you that warm fuzzy feeling. That facile stuff.

The way she smiles in such adoration, eyes crinkled upwards yet soft. A small smile playing on her face yet enough to fall head over heels for her. And sometimes I wonder what it would be like if she smiled at me like that.

Maybe it wasn't envy.

taglist :: @ksoal-incoherance @itwasntreal @m3l-505 @lim3erence join my taglist!

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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Hey! I had placed an order on your other account and then I noticed that you had switched (lol XD). I had ordered a head cannon from the foreign children with the reader being married to them (with age, I had forgotten that detail) and with a female reader. And I'm sorry for my idiocy XD. Thanks :)

《 foreign kids ; christophe, gregory, pip, damien — fem! reader. no pronouns used. tw: cussing, thats it 》

💌 : hi hi hi!! sorry i still didnt know which foreign kids u wanted so i gave you these four instead, i hope u dont mind!! i apologize these are short 😭😭 I couldn't think of anything else :,(

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍 "𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐥𝐞"

It surprised EVERYONE seeing Christophe actually GRIN for probably the first time in forever after your wedding.

At any given moment, he would randomly remember that you married him and then he'll try to fight the urge to smile HAHAHAHA he's like a schoolgirl. At this point he can just giggle and kick his feet about it

This man is so giddy lmaooo, it's like it was just your first date alllll over again

It's so annoying to others ESPECIALLY Gregory because he'll just randomly start rambling about you even at a serious situation. The poor man, at least his once miserable buddy is finally happy.

HE WILL SAY "My wife" INSTEAD OF YOUR NAME IN A CONVERSATION. It's almost as if he's rubbing it off on everyone especially on those who aren't married or don't even have a partner yet ☠☠

Everyone around him is so weirded out by it but they brush it off, I mean bro is finally happy at least, but they try so hard to not make fun of him because it's honestly really sweet but also it's just so new....so...overwhelming 😕

They still shit about it to him, just a little. A tinsy bit.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐓

OOOOOH goddd honestly ladies are hella jealous of you. You know how this man is. Those ladies are probably the ones he flirted with wayyy back before you two started dating, them and their unresolved feelings or probably even obsession.

How does it feel to marry one of the most charming men out there?

Okay but, no denying it, some may be jealous of Gregory too...I mean look at you!!! They can see why he chose you, they can't decide on which one they want.

This man went alllll out on your wedding, the fancy music, the big ass cake, the ring?!?!?!? He's just willing to give. it. ALL. For you and you only.

Slow dances... Slow dances.

He CANNOT stop calling you "Mrs. Tviet" Like okay we get it, it's fancy. He really isn't that far off from being similar to Christophe, huh?

He gets you flowers, specifically red roses OR your favorite ones every couple of weeks. He HAS to make sure those flowers remain fresh and new on that fancy vase. He says it's your symbol of love....ew 😞 /j

��𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍

MARRYING THE SON OF SATAN?!?!?! 😱

Damien had finally given into the fact he loves you and loves you a lot. Even after years of dating it's like he was in denial about it the whole time.

HE SAID THAT IN THE WEDDING TOO ☠ Grumbling that and he panics when he sees the feigned hurt expression on your face LMAOOO

"That's not what I meant!!! I always loved you 😧—" and then pauses when he notices the teasing grin on your face.

Just kept teasing him the whole wedding, and then wayyy farther, day after day. 😭 I guess you should be grateful he didn't send you flying backwards even when his face is as red as Satan himself /j

He'll definitely be a lot sweeter and show affection!! And then you'll be shocked as if he was never nice to you when you were dating.

I feel like he would go back to his old friends at South Park (even if they didn't really get along LMAO) and just hint that he got married or something. The others would notice his ring and they just drop EVERYTHING and go "No way...."

They give him a pat on the back about it and playfully question him on why they weren't invited to the wedding. I guess there's room for triumph for someone as sour and grumpy as Damien.

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏

Cries at your wedding

Too much joy and everything, it's super overwhelming for him that it all just crashes down. 😭😭 He doesn't know what to say, or do, or anything. He's just smiling and staring at you like you're still in your puppy love stage !!!

Stuttering when being asked to speak, just stares at you because gosh you look so pretty what ?!?!

Just basically— stares. During the wedding, after the wedding, weeks later. Thoughts of you flood his head 24/7

He fiddles with his ring when he's nervous, or anxious, because it makes him think of you and it calms him down.

Slow dances (at least he'll try)

Honestly just super happy I don't know what else to put 😭 I feel like even after a whole year, he still can't believe he's married LMAO

taglist :: @lim3erence @ksoal-incoherance join my taglist!

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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the really pretty reader was so good! could you possibly do that with Craig's gang?

☆ 《 CRAIG'S GANG 》 × EXTREMELY PRETTY S/O main 4 ver.

gn! reader. no prns used. cw: corny!! 😱 /j no cussing, surprise

💌 : definitely! usually i write for only 4 people at a time but this time i'll alter js for this one :) i need to write some tweak and jimmy content. whoo hope this is good!!

navig | south park masterlist | join my taglist

☆ 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆 𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

[01.] Quietly admires you. Whatever you're doing ,, whatever's happening; he WILL just stare at you. He's dating the prettiest person of all south park HS or even the whole south park itself. What, is he not allowed to? /j

[02.] He doesn't really get jealous often? Honestly other people flirting with you or trying to pull you in or anything, he js sorta thinks it's funny because you turn them down everytime. Although, of course, he'll step in if things get out of hand.

[03.] Random compliments random compliments. It could be when you're talking and he just sputters it out suddenly LMAO. Or when he's just staring at you while you do something. He can't help ittt. No matter what

"So anywho, the area over there is heavily secured. 11 cameras with 2 guards circling the area— well technically they're like 8 but they're divided into two so it's easier for th—" "You're so pretty, Y/n. Pretty as a doll" "Craig, focus please."

[04.] Makes fun of the people you reject in his mind. He doesn't vocally taunt them or anything but he will let out a small snicker or grin a bit seeing the look on their face. Obviously can't forget the cherry on top; his middle finger.

[05.] I feel as though Craig himself would be conventionally attractive too!! You two 2gether is just *chef kiss* and people cannot disagree with that

☆ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊

[01.] Tweek really really needs reassurance because yk, he just thinks that there are so many people out there you could've dated and you chose, er, him. Guess who made him think that? Those crazy low-life admirers 🙁.

[02.] He hatessss it when people try so hard for you or just hit on you or anything. Like, he wants to do something but then again he doesn't have the courage to.

[03.] So if your reputation is you being a sweet baby innocent angel like Teruhashi then you have no choice but completely destroy that if people don't understand the meaning of "no."

[04.] There has been a few moments where Tweek just can't take it anymore and just screams at the person LMAOAOAO. It worked and they spooked away. Either from genuine fear or just— oddity lmao

[05.] Despite everything he really does think you're pretty and cool and talented and everything.........hshshsmsm

[06.] Although, yeah man, you need to make sure none of them crazy chicks get to his head and make him feel insecure.

[07.] Honestly really really shy still 😭. Your attractiveness is a little intimidating and knowing he's dating a very well-known, and the most crushed on person on sp is SO overwhelming!! He can't help but be so happy though

☆ 𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊

[01.] Sweetest man ever. Well, whether you're pretty or not, he won't treat you any different 🤷🏻‍♀️

[02.] He talks about you aaaall the time, not to like brag or anything it's just that— god, you're the prettiest thing ever. Which star in the sky granted him such an unspoken wish ☹

[03.] Nothing much to be said, he just likes staring at you and admiring how pretty you are. Personally he loves seeing you in certain lightning SPECIFICALLY under the moonlight.

[04.] He doesn't really mind your admirers much. He trusts you a lot. He'll still keep his guard up though for anyone being creepy or pushy.

[05.] HONESTLY MAN?? He's just in love with you like it's craaazy stop raiding his thoughts!!! He loves just staring at the moon or something because it reminds him of you

[06.] I'm so sorry for being corny on Tolkien's part but I just feel as though he'd be like this 😭 Hopeless and romantic :(((

☆ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐄𝐑

[01.] Stares a LOT and he doesn't even mean it, nor does he even notice it. He'll only be aware of it once one of the guys bring it up and tease him about it.

[02.] And honestly when they do all he can do it awkwardly chuckle a little and admit to it. Because you're the cutest person ever!!! Who wouldn't be staring? And who are they to try and tease him about it?? They jealous or wtv???🤨

[03.] The type of guy to stop talking for a second once he randomly remembers how pretty you are when he glances at you. LMAOOO when

[04.] Can't forget the corny jokes (sprints to google)

"You could never be ice cream. Because you're so hot. And also a person" "Okay, jimmy"

[05.] You better laugh. Or giggle. Chortle, even. Even if you've heard it a million times

"You're a 9/10, and I'm the one you need" "Aha ☺️ 😶.."

☆ 𝐂𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

[01.] You already know how this goes. He brags about you to everyone. It's become his personality at this point 😭. If a day went by and he hasn't boasted about you to anyone you gotta know there's something wrong fr /j

[02.] Obviously he's pretty popular and attractive himself so the school basically labeled you two as some sort of cringey "rulers of the school" or wtv and Clyde unironically likes it.

[03.] Despite what it seems he doesn't use you for popularity points or anything. He really is head over heels for you 😞 Although it's kinda embarrassing LMAO he doesn't even realize he's doing more than any of your admirers could ever do......

[04.] WORSHIPS YOU AND THE GROUND YOU WALK ON. Honestly at that point he's become your biggest admirer ever. And by god is he lucky that you chose him, what were the odds?

[05.] Honestly sort of jealous of both your admirers and YOU 😭😭 like damn someone really beat him to this huh, and you do it better too

[06.] He spoils you alooot. Buying you stuff he thinks would look really pretty on you or what he thinks you'd like.

[07.] Just full on heart eyes whenever you pass by or walk in the room 😭 Like he'll stop mid-sentence just to dreamily rest his chin on the palm of his hands while giving you love sick eyes...Probably kicking his feet a little too with a dreamy sigh HAHA. And then he'll turn back like nothing happened

TAGLIST : @lim3erence @ksoal-incoherance join my taglist!

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐠 + 𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜 — 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 🎧📖

requested: anon || gn! reader || warnings: none

✈︎ : i feel like no one is gonna read this because of how lengthy it is... i completely forgot the part 2 for this where it’s about craig’s gang </3 ..AND I FORGOT CARTMAN IN THE LAST PART?!?! this is unbelievable 😭😭 so as an apology, i’ll be writing his longer than the other 3

kyle, kenny, & stan’s part!!

navig | south park masterlist | join my taglist

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍

BOTHERING YOU when he sees the chance. And by “chance” I simply mean every time you’re around. Poor you, only serenely doodling in your notebook next to the window—Cartman can’t help it (how pretty you look). He just has to come up to you and snatch the notebook out of your hands!

But once he sees the mini version of him sketched on the page, he’s stupefied. He looks at the nervous expression on your face, but he fails to catch the faint blush that adorns it—the obscure pink tinted on your cheeks in contrast to the red that filled his entire face.

SITTING NEXT TO YOU IN SCHOOL EVENTS “just because.” His friends all have to grip on the hem of their jackets in order to stop themselves from punting Cartman. His ushering to the certain spot for them is obnoxious, he’s always oddly determined for that seat, and they couldn’t place on the pattern why. A win is a win, they’d shrug, because Cartman always seems to be less loud than usual in that particular place. Unfortunately for him, he has to hold back on his remarks for whatever the speaker has to say. Though, is he really paying attention to their voice or to yours?

EXEMPTING YOU FROM HIS INSULTS. Despite how much he seems to love disturbing you, he doesn’t include you in the insults that should supposedly be directed for everyone as a whole. It makes your head tilt, he ends with “except for Y/n” all the time. He notices it, of course, he glances at you whenever he says so. Because of this, he immediately turns back, avoiding your unspoken questioning.

THE TEACHERS NOTICE. Undeniably, Cartman has left a permanent mark on everyone. Loud, mean, shameless—everything bad under the sun, at least for them, teachers especially. They find it hard to control the students at school, it’s been years of attempting to discipline them. But when they speak of “them”, they only especially mean Cartman. Seeing the sudden change of his personality was odd, and it never failed to raise their eyebrows. They even had a meeting about it, in fear of Eric plotting something malicious. Finally, they notice it’s because of you. What teacher wouldn’t take this to their advantage? Now, Cartman will have to be paired up with you in school tasks for the rest of the year.

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆 𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

HE ALWAYS ALWAYS WANTS TO BE YOUR TASK PARTNER. He doesn’t hide it at all. The very moment the teacher mentions “pair”, he turns to you with raised eyebrows. It’s not even a question, or an offer- it’s just full on “let’s be partners.” You mention that you were partners last time, and also partners in another subject. Craig only hits you with a “so?”, and grabs your hand to lead you to his desk before you could object.

STARING. Just staring whenever you’re discussing a lesson to him. You’re almost gonna explode from repeating the same topic because Craig claims he doesn’t understand it (he does). He’s not looking at the diagram you’re pointing at, he’s looking at you and your cute frustrated face. He doesn’t care, he might as well draw that face of yours as the answer to his test paper.

subconciously MIRRORING YOUR HABITS/MOVEMENTS. Neither of you realize it, but the others do. They don’t point it out, Craig is gonna deny it anyways. You twirl your pen when you’re thinking? Craig also twirls his pen when he’s thinking. Bite your lip while reading? He does that too. Furrowed eyebrows when fully focused on the discussion? Suddenly he can explain the lesson in great detail.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊

VISITS TO HIS COFFEE SHOP. Working doesn’t seem to suck as much to him anymore knowing you’ll come by—same time, same order, same seat. He has it memorized, and he can’t seem to stop whipping his head to the clock that ticks ever so slowly. Every swift open of the door, he turns. He’s so disappointed when it’s not you :,(( When you’re there, he can’t help but stare at you; clicking away on your laptop and roughly turning the pages of your book. You pause for a bit and turn to him, ultimately catching his gaze with a smile. You should talk to him.

SLEEPING ON EACH OTHER DURING BREAKS. Or it could be just you sleeping, considering his excessive intake of coffee. Tweek doesn’t mind, but he wishes that he could stop shaking so much. Could it be from the caffeine? Or because you’re so close?

Anyway, he wonders if you should stop drinking coffee in order to sleep (on his shoulder) more. But that would mean no visits to his shop :((

STUDY DATES in the coffee shop. At least he daydreams it to be a “date.” When he’s not working, he invites you to study. And it’s the same table you always sit in, as well. It would go from noon to night—occasionally taking breaks and eating the pastries from the shop. Unfortunately the entire time, he couldn't seem to focus no matter how hard he tries. So you always wonder how he still manages to fail despite how long you two studied. The blame is completely on you.

𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊

ASKS ABOUT YOUR DAY, as you two don’t have a lot of classes together. Whenever you two bump into each other in the cafeteria, library, or hallways, he always makes sure to ask how you’re doing and how was your day. He doesn’t mind if you start rambling about how a certain class sucks, or how difficult it is is to work with your teammates in a group task. He’ll listen and offer you any help needed! This seems so bare minimum, but Tolkien really doesn’t fail to remind you he’s there if you need him—even in circumstances outside of school. Other than being a gentleman, this is just an excuse to hang out with you more. Hehe.

DOES THINGS FOR YOU. No matter how much you insist that you can do it on your own, Tolkien will do anything without a word. I guess this also goes from how he always lends out a helping hand when you tell him about your day. But even in the littlest things, it’s always him who insists to take initiative; ties your shoes, takes your bag, offers you his sweater, hands over his umbrella even when he also needs it... Runs errands for you when you’re unavailable, the list goes on.

Frequently BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER in the hallways. When this happens, it always feels as though Tolkien stops you from falling over even when you aren’t even about to. His hands always grab onto your arms (...or your waist if your arms are out of the way) to halt you, then he flashes you a grin. Why he does this? You don’t know. However, it’s an excuse to touch you, and he always “stops” you as a trick to have you stay a bit longer before going your seperate ways

𝐂𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

SAVES A SEAT IN CLASS FOR YOU. It’s an annoyance to everyone else especially when you come to class a little later than usual. His solution to this is putting his backpack on the seat next to his, so people assume there’s already someone sitting there—unintentionally, even you. He panics when you turn to look for another seat, so he takes the bag away and tells you it’s free. This was the giveaway for everyone else in the room 😭😭

PASSING NOTES IN CLASS, since you two are beside each other anyways. Regardless of how hard you’re focused on the lesson, a tap on your shoulder is an enough signal to look down at the ripped piece of paper beneath you. He’d ask if you understand the lesson or not (not for your sake so he could teach you, it’s so you could teach him), maybe sometimes he’d say something stupid about the teacher like “Mrs. Alma looks like a bogus [poorly drawn laughing emoji]” and he thinks ‘bogus’ is an insult and not a synonym for ‘fake.’ Either way, getting caught passing notes and reading what’s been written on it would definitely send you both to Mr Mackey (mostly would be Clyde’s fault).

CALLING YOUR NAME DURING GAMES. You would need a silent prayer whenever he does this, it’s hard to predict whether he’d score or not, so best know where to hide if he doesn’t. Of course, you still find it endearing. The proud look on his face is more adorable than what he actually intends his smirk to be, and his hair is so unruly, and his eyes sparkle with such determination... It’s hard not to blush, but don’t forget your prayer.

𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐄𝐑

CALLS YOU FROM AFAR FOR NO REASON. You could just be talking with your other friends, when suddenly at the other end of the hallway you hear your name being yelled. When you turn, it’s just Jimmy waving at you with a sheepish smile, and you blink and wave back, a small “hi” muttered in a hush—but somehow Jimmy could hear it in spite of the voices from everyone around him. He does this every time now, giddy smiles and small waves being exchanged to one another, and he can’t get enough of the tiny “hi” you mouth back. :,))

CRACKS JOKES IN CLASS SPECIFICALLY FOR YOU. He always subtly turns to you to see if you’re giggling hdhdjdh. He doesn’t care if everyone else is totally silent, even just a small smile breaking out from you would turn the tips of his ears pink. But if you’re genuinely giggling, then his heart would beat quicker than Fastpass himself.

If he’s feeling extra bold and you two are beside each other, he’d pass notes with jokes to you. “What do you say when your English teacher is crying? There, their.” Maybe the most unfunny part is when your English teacher snatches the note from your desk before you could react 🙂

a/n: catg’s is a little more specific compared to the last three because i really couldn’t think of anything too simple 😭

TAGLIST : (completely empty 🥲)

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍

requested : @ksoal-incoherance

💌 : have this as an apology for not writing here in like 2 weeks, come get your crumbs everyone

navig | south park masterlist | join my taglist

He asks if you're serious—and of course—he refuses to go, and he's refusing for you to go as well. You try to pull him with you but he won't budge, so you give up and start heading towards the rain by yourself; leaving him to stand by and watch, bewildered. It's too late for him to retort since you're already soaked LMAO. He's yelling and calling your name but the rain is too loud, and he knows you're doing this on purpose. He leans and watches. He knows the only way for you to hear him is to get in the rain with you, and by due course, have him chase you around to drag you inside once again. So he stands up straight and mutters under his breath, "what the hell", and starts walking.

Pete Thelman, Kyle Broflovski, Dogpoo Petuski (hes random ik i just wanted to ☹) Craig Tucker, Scott Tenorman, Gregory Tviet

He wants to but he doesn't wanna get sick :((( You have to convince him, pull him or...push him. He's hesitant, vacillating, and you're just there wagging your tail out, maundering lets go lets go lets go!!. He admits it does look fun. So he lightly punches your shoulder, declaring a race and it's no fair because he already started running LMFAO. Eventually you two are play fighting in the rain, running around like mindless chicken and throwing your shoes at each other, completely unaware of the stares the passersby gave under their umbrella.

Stan Marsh, Tolkien Black, Tweak Tweek, Pip Pirrup, David Rodriguez, Kenny Mccormick, Bradley Biggle, Jimmy Valmer, Eric Cartman (you drag him instead and he gives in LMAO), Thomas (la petit tourette)

He laughs, and then he realizes you're not joking by the anticipation in your eyes. "Yeah -- no." Just refuses. So whatever you say or do he definitely will not get drenched in the rain with you. But when you insist you'll go either way, he doesn't really do anything to stop you from going to the rain yourself, so he just lets you because he doesn't care. He watches you though—in what could be annoyance or amusement, or maybe making sure you don't slip and hit your head. But if you take your fun time too far that it would end with you getting terribly sick or cause an injury, then it'll be time for you to head inside and take a shower immediately. At least you look pretty in the rain 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Damien Thorn, Christophe DeLorne, Michael (damn wth is his last name), Gregory Tviet, Scott Tenorman (yes, them again)

He giggles and agrees immediately!! The two of you are practically racing, intentionally pushing and bumping against each other until you feel the cold kisses of the rain. While other people run for cover and open their umbrellas, the two of you are just having the time of your life like little children; treating the small flood as some sort of water slide, declaring you two are the "Gods of wind and rain," kicking the water ... You both know you'll catch a cold, a real miserable cold. But for now, it's the calm and fun before the storm—and they took it literally. Because while you two are Gods of wind and rain, you two certainly are not in control of the lightning that struck concerningly near you 😰.

Gary Harrison, Clyde Donovan, Butters Stotch, Scott Malkinson (he just wants to have fun 😞), Kevin Stoley, Kevin Mccormick (he has like 6 lines in the entire series LMAO)

TAGLIST : @lim3erence @ksoal-incoherance join my taglist!

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sacchared · 2 years ago

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★ 𝐦𝟒. — 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 🎧📖

requested : anon

✈︎ : this sat in my drafts with cobwebs and termites wrapped around it, oops... 16 requests, and 80% of them being the ones i ignored the 5 months of me avoiding tumblr... im so sorry, oh my days 😭🙏🏻 !!! not proof read

these may or may not be featured in a1 condition 👀 (which ... i have not updated in months)

cartman and catg’s part!!

navig | south park masterlist | join my taglist

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐈

TUTORING/HELPING WITH ASSIGNMENTS. Most times it's him tutoring you. He loves when you ask him for help, and he's always willing to assist you ! He's bringing notes, books, everything, and maybe even prepared youtube videos on his "watch later." He loves being someone you can rely on, whether you two are close or not.

STICKY NOTES ON YOUR STUFF/LOCKER. Reminders for school, reminders for personal stuff like "don't forget to take your meds," or just cute notes in general; like "good morning:)" "let's have lunch together", or just a small doodle of your favorite animal, or maybe small doodle of you—or a small doodle of him and you,, holding hands..🤨

A SPECIAL PLACE. A spot in school where you always meet; may be an empty classroom, or the old playground during breaks (ofc when the elementary students aren't there), or on the school rooftop.<3

SNEAKING GLANCES FROM BEHIND LIBRARY SHELVES. Pretending you're unaware of each other's presence in the library before you unironically bump into each other.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇

AWKWARD INTERACTIONS whenever you get the chance to talk. Mostly in group projects, or partner tasks, if you two are seated beside each other. The giddiness you try to hide in your smiles, the fumbling of your hands, fiddling with little things like your pen or jacket, the inability to hold eye contact...everyone can see it.

HOLDING HANDS. Instinctively and unconsciously holding hands during stressful situations; huge group presentations and it’s your turn to present, the two of you being scolded by a teacher, going through a test that none of you studied for, or unnecessarily complicated school activities that you don’t seem to understand. Your hands are intertwined the entire time, practically squeezing each other’s hands like a stress toy. ...And none of you even notice it until the stress is over.

COMPARING SCHEDULES to check when you two can spend time together. Whether it’s a class the two of you hate, as long as you guys are in the same room, I’m sure the class would be bareable.<3

SULKING when the other is absent. It’s as if school just couldn’t get any worse :( but how wrong he was- Now that the only person who has ever made him get up for school isn’t present for class, he’s 10x more unenthusiastic about the supposedly class you both had at the same time. The class he used to hate has now reclaimed it’s original name, now that it isnt “y/n and me class :D”

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊

MEETING TO STUDY AT THE LIBRARY ...just to not study at all. God save the librarian for the giggles you two exchange, and the subtle ruckus behind the children’s bookshelves of you rummaging around baby story booklets. I guess the F on your paper is a problem for the future you to handle.

HAVING INSIDE JOKES ABOUT CLASSES. The others have to raise an eyebrow at the painfully vague remarks you give each other—vague not even being an ample enough word for the phrases you two giggle at. They’re questioning “what’s with you two and venn diagrams?” “what’s so funny about Ms. Kuwaltz’s index finger?” “what are you two on about?” and neither of you bother to explain.

GLANCES IN CLASS TRYING NOT TO LAUGH. Side eyes, snickers, and lips bites to shoo off the smile fighting to get on your face. And it’s stupid, because whatever might have happened wouldn’t be funny to the average person at all. But you both aren’t average, and that’s what sent you to the guidance counselor for bursting out laughing in a well-focused class... Oops.

WALKING HOME & WALKING TO SCHOOL. During the first few times, you’d be surprised to see an orange parka waiting outside your door in the morning, or seeing him wait patiently for your class to end before walking the both of you home. Now it feels as if you’d rather not go to school nor go home if this blonde isn’t there by your side.

TAGLIST : (the two usual ones here left tumblr 🙂)

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sacchared · 2 years ago

Note

this is so fucking cringe but can I request the main 4 of South Park with a s/o that is is like extremely pretty like teruhashi from saiki if you've seen that 💀

《 main 4 — gn reader. they/them prns. cw: cussing as always !! 》

💌 : not cringe at all!!! i love this actually ckxkqk i love teruhashi and this was so fun to write omg. i didnt proofread this btw so sorry if i made any spelling or grammatical mistakes

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇

Smitten by you; heart eyes, giddy smile, little red heart bubbles. Come on man get it together.

He doesn't show it but he's so proud of himself for pulling you. Like YOU. You, that everyone at school stares at either envy or strong admiration. A glowing aura around you that isn't even visible yet helps you stand out everytime.

He's proud although he does get a kinda insecure by your admirers......the love letters you get from your locker, the people flirting with you INFRONT of him like he's just a speck of dust on an empty classroom chair, like how dare they!!!

Well he's NOT a speck of dust, you chose him and they're mad and jealous about it so they can go cry about it somewhere. Please reassure him this, he gets that you're really pretty and all but please make it clear you'll choose him over your admirers floundering about like seagulls.

I mean come on, he's practically like a small baby cat next to a literal lion like YOU. You're popular, you're pretty, you're smart sksnxkms... When people stare at the both of you in the hall it just makes him wanna crumble like a piece of paper and break down.

If he's not listening to class, he's staring at you. If you sit next to the window then GOD you're gonna be the death of him because the way the light illuminates your features and everything dude you're so pretty how

How did he even pull you

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐈

Till this day he's still in disbelief that he's dating you.

Everyone was too!! But that's because you guys hung out together in secret. Your admirers are CRAZY and seeing you with someone else would be.... scandalous to say the least. At least to them lmao they're weird

Like Stan, he gets sort of uncomfortable. Now that you two are known to be a couple, he's been getting stares himself. Everyday, everywhere, everyTIME.

Walking to school, stares. Sitting down his chair, shit fucking stares. And it doesn't have to be when you're around him too.

This obviously bothers him, but he actually talks to you about it. Stan wouldn't really tell you about his discomfort.

Sometimes Kyle overhears guys rambling about how pretty you are and how lucky he is, and he has to push down the urge to interrupt out of nowhere and say that it wasn't just your looks that pulled him to you LMAO

And it's true!!! He cherishes you so much and he'd still love you the day you start getting wrinkles and gray hair. (ew cringe. still true though)

Although sometimes he really wants to just yell out loud and tell everyone to get a life, he's upset that people won't leave you alone and that they don't understand that you have a personal life too </3 Come on, you're human not a doll.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊

Kennryrknenunkenyy

Karen absolutely LOVES you. You're basically her role model!!! She wants to be as pretty as you and everything. (She's probably your biggest fan)

You're like his most priced possession LMAO (respectfully). He just subtly brags about you to his friends........

Like oh, that girl is smart and pretty??? Well "Y/n is smart and pretty too 😁." Oh that guy can do this hsksksjsk that sjsjskn, "Y/n can do that too! They're pretty good at it haha"

Okay, well, it's not exactly bragging but just him being so proud of you and he just likes everything about you!!

I'm gonna be honest, people didn't really like— understand how you two got together??? I mean why is that their business.

People sucking ass saying "homeleth thstinky guy dating *snort* pretty perthon everyone wanth, how? 🤓"

They're all up on your business like omgg. Kenny isn't really afraid to tell them to piss off or something he just knows that you're his and they're maddddd.

Okayyy but to be honest if it weren't for his parka covering his face and the STENCH (I'll keep mentioning that), people would find him attractive too. People would've labeled you two as the "attractive couple"

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍

If people don't understand why you chose Kenny; people don't not understand but completely DISAPPROVE of your choice ☠

They're in disbelief everytime seeing the two of you walk in the hallway hand-in-hand, the same charming and soft smile playing on your lips while Cartman just completely rubs ass on everyone with a cocky smirk.

Eric completely brags about you to EVERYONE, whenever he has the chance. And it's not subtle or unintentional, he brings you up even when the topic is soooo far from being about you or anything.

But that aside he really can't help but stare at you sometimes. The others always raise an eyebrow whenever he pauses out of the blue until they realize you entered the room or just happened to pass by.

People think there's something wrong with him. Going silent all of a sudden or...........behaving 😰.

Honestly all it takes for him to shut up is for you to probably give him a quick kiss on the cheek and walk away. Then suddenly random red hearts are floating around his bewildered, red face.

taglist :: @lim3erence @ksoal-incoherance join my taglist!

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