sirenseraph

[sirenseraph]

Heyyyy so this isn't a request, I just have some questions and it would be awesome if you'd answer at least a few because I LOVE LOVE LOVE your Kenny x reader fic and before the actual question I wanted to tell you HAPPY BIRTHDAY I hope you have an amazing year 💛💛💛☀️☀️

Since it's summer will you be posting the chapters? (No rush btw take as much time as you need, the chapters are so long like I could never 😭)

Do you have every or at least a few chapters written that you add to bit by bit or do you write per chapter on its own?

Do you have everything or at least the basic bits of the plot already figured out or do you wing it as you go?

How long does it take you to write a single chapter when you're motivated/ unmotivated?

Of course you don't have to respond at all but still thank you so much I love your writing and the fics and the HC you do

Of course you don't have to respond at all but still thank you so much I love your writing and the fics and the HC you do💛

thank you sm 🫶

first off, yeah i will try to be posting more chapters now that my exams are over but CAPE was no joke and depending on my results/how things are next term it can affect if i continue to write or quit. I am also taking a trip in August but i’ll probably write the HCS that are sitting in my inbox.

2) the first 3 chapters have been in my drafts for a while so i do plan them out in a sense that i write down ideas that i have for the chapters before actually writing the dialogue and other scenes, and throughout i make changes and add stuff that i think would fit best in the chapters. so yeah i do write each chapter on its own but i do add bits along the way.

3) i honestly wing it as i go in some aspects like if i had a scene written before that sounded good at the time; but the more i read and think something else would be funnier; i add it. I do have the plot figured out but i’m not spoiling anything, just know there are going to be some soft moments and also a good bit of angst.

4) when i’m unmotivated which is more than usual, it usually takes me about a month or longer. When i am motivated it takes about 2 hours. It’s not that i have writers block, it’s just life. What keeps me motivated really is getting to write out my hyper fixations for other people to enjoy and it’s honestly lots of fun.

This series is sort of based off my life experiences in a way (obviously i quit ballet a long time ago) but in the sense that opening up to people has always been a hard thing and i was always more talkative to literal strangers online which resulted in me not having close connections to other people, but i’ve grown out of that which is what i plan for the MC.

But anyways thank you for all the support. Feel free to ask any other questions, i’m very open. Also tysm to everyone that’s been here waiting for new chapters i was going through a lot and crashing out but a baddie never gives up.

[sirenseraph]

ᯓ 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷ᯓ

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩 𝟐: 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑

"Shut my lips to speak, Stick to your strategy, I know you like 'em weak, Sold you a piece of me."

Parties weren’t really your scene, but Red could convince you to walk through fire for her.

Tw: Injury/ vulgar language

Masterlist

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You were already regretting this. The moment Red told you about the party, you tried every excuse you could think of. You pretended to be busy, you claimed you had rehearsal, you even suggested a sudden “migraine.” But nothing worked. Red was relentless.

The sounds of music and laughter filtered down the street as you walked with Red, who was practically dragging you along toward Clyde’s house. You could already hear the bass from the speakers, and the faint echo of people shouting over the music. Red, as usual, was in high spirits, practically bouncing with excitement, while you… well, you weren’t exactly thrilled to be here.

“Come on, you’ll have fun!” Red said over her shoulder, her voice high and light with anticipation. She squeezed your hand tighter, pulling you along as she practically skipped up the driveway. She had recently gotten her car taken away for a reason she didn’t tell you, which resulted in your current position of walking the miles to Clyde’s house. You let out a soft sigh, resigning yourself to your fate.

You’d been dreading this. Parties weren’t really your thing. But Red had insisted, and once again, you had been dragged along. You weren’t exactly antisocial, but you had a preference for quieter, more predictable environments preferably your room with your cat, maybe some soft music playing in the background, definitely not a house full of screaming teenagers, loud music, and the general chaos of a party.

When you stepped through the front door, the first thing that hit you was the thick scent of cologne, cheap beer, and the faint smell of sweat. The music was too loud, the lights were too bright, and the voices were too high-pitched, bouncing off the walls and making everything feel overwhelming. You instinctively took a step back, standing just inside the door, your hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket, looking at all the couples who were eating each other's face and dry humping each other .

Red practically shoved you toward the kitchen. “Here’s the spot where the magic happens,” she said with a grin, pointing toward a table loaded with snacks and drinks. "I’m gonna find something to drink.”

You barely registered her words before she disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing in front of a couple of spilt over cups, half eaten snacks that already looked cold and Wendy and Bebe, who were sitting on the counter, sipping from red cups.

“Hey, you actually showed up,” Wendy said, her eyes wide in mock surprise. “Red dragged you here huh?”

You gave her a small nod and almost imperceptible smile, but didn’t say anything. Bebe flashed you a bright smile, clearly trying to draw you into the conversation, but you weren’t feeling it. The noise was overwhelming, the lights too bright, and the buzz of too many voices made your head spin. You clung to your phone, contemplating whether or not to fake a call from your mother, saying something like ‘your grandma got hit by a truck’ and run out of here.

Red came back a while later, clutching two red solo cups filled with who knows what, you opted out of drinking it, not sure what concoction you were about to put into your body.

Red saw your hesitation and smiled softly. “Don’t worry it’s just Sprite.”

You took the cup in your hand inspecting the liquid carefully; trusting your friend you decided to take a small sip, retching a little at the room temperature soda. “Jesus Red this is not just Sprite.” you hand her back the cup and rolled your eyes.

Red smirked and took a swig from her own cup, clearly already a bit tipsy. "It's mostly Sprite." she shrugged

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Kenny sat on the stairs, drink in his hand. He had long zoned out from Cartman’s bitching and Stan and Kyle’s conversation. His entire focus was on you, clearly out of place standing in the kitchen looking like you were in high alert. He smiled a little, without realizing it. You looked like you were on edge, but you still stood your ground, holding a warm Sprite like it was a lifeline. He found it… kinda cute, if he was being honest.

Cartman followed Kenny’s line of sight and groaned loudly. “Oh my God, again?” he waved a hand dramatically. “Stop eye-fucking her and listen to me, dude. I’m telling you, Clyde is hiding the good snacks.”

Kenny didn’t even flinch. “I wasn’t staring,” he said, but then ran a hand through his shaggy hair, trying to look casual. “I was just… looking. Like, general direction.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kyle muttered, exchanging a look with Stan, who just shook his head. Stan leaned back against the wall, sipping the watered-down remains of his drink. “So… are you actually gonna talk to her this time or just sit there like a weirdo?”

Kenny sighed, dragging a hand through his messy blonde hair. “I mean, yeah… I want to,” he muttered. “But she doesn’t talk much.”

Kyle gave a half-shrug. “So don’t make it weird.”

Cartman snorted. “Too late.” He watched as Kenny got up and walked towards your direction.

Kyle sipped from his cup, then made a face. “This drink tastes like ass.” Stan chuckled a little taking a sip from his own cup. “yeah welcome to every high school party.”

You look like you’re having the worst time of your life,” Kenny said as he took a spot by your side with that signature smirk as if he was use to this.

You blinked at him, clearly startled that he was talking to you so directly. You glanced at Red, who had wandered off, probably pulled into a conversation by Wendy or Bebe. You were on your own now.

“I’m fine,” you said, voice low but even.

Kenny tilted his head, still smiling. “That was a solid two words. Impressive. You always open up this fast, or is it just me?”

You gave a dry blink and looked away again, clearly not amused, though the corner of your mouth tugged ever so slightly. You didn’t answer right away, your fingers drumming against your cup. Then you shrugged.

“I just don’t like parties.”

Kenny stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle. Not awkwardly, not forcefully he just stood, sipping from a fresh drink, like he was content just being near you. Like your company was enough even if you weren’t saying much.

Eventually, you mumbled, “You don’t have to keep trying.”

He smiled again, softer this time. “Maybe I want to.”

You felt a quiet thump in your chest, and you turned back toward the counter, suddenly interested in the mess - toppled red cups, sticky puddles of mystery alcohol, and a broken bracelet left behind like some relic from earlier chaos. You began absentmindedly tracing shapes on the counter with your finger, trying to ground yourself, to focus on anything but the warmth blooming in your chest and the erratic rhythm of your heart.

Kenny leaned against the counter beside you, turning his head just slightly to look at you again.

“You look good, by the way,” he said casually, running his finger along the rim of his cup. He glanced down at you again, slow and unhurried, the corner of his mouth lifting in that almost-smirk. “Really good.”

Your cheeks warmed before the words even registered fully. “Uhm, thank you,” you said, glancing up at him, a small, shy smile forming on your lips. It wasn’t big enough for most people to notice, but Kenny did.

“You look good too,” you added, so quietly it nearly got lost under the sound of someone laughing too loudly in the next room.

Kenny’s face lit up like you’d handed him the winning ticket to something. That dumb, golden grin of his stretched across his face, eyes creasing at the corners like he was genuinely, ridiculously pleased.

He drummed his fingers once on the counter like he had to release some of the excitement buzzing through him, then exhaled a soft little breath like he was surprised at how happy your compliment made him. Kenny stood there a moment longer, like he wanted to say something else. His gaze dropped briefly to your hand resting on the counter, then back to your face.

He tapped his knuckles gently against the edge of the counter. “I’ll be around.”

Kenny didn’t press you, didn’t linger. He just turned and melted back into the crowd, his hoodie brushing your arm as he passed.

Red appeared at your side like she’d been watching the whole thing from around the corner, which, knowing her, she probably had.

“He likes you,” she said under her breath, leaning in with a smirk.

You stared at the fizz in your cup. “…He’s weird.”

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You stood in the bathroom, hand gripping the side of the sink as you adjusted your hair in the mirror. The bass of the music still pulsed through the door, dull and distant now, and for the first time since you got to the party, you felt like you could breathe. Your lip gloss was still perfect, and your hair was behaving despite Red practically dragging you around. But what really made your cheeks warm was the dumb little flutter that hadn’t stopped since you talked to Kenny earlier. He had this way of looking at you; of watching you quietly,making your stomach churn in a way you hated, unable to control it. His advances towards you were crystal clear and honestly you weren’t against the idea.

You were trying not to smile when the bathroom door burst open. You jumped, blinking as a girl slipped in and locked the door behind her with a snap. Her eyes landed on you in the mirror, and her lips curled into something too close to a smirk. You recognized her immediately; the girl who was arguing with Kenny the other day in the art room. Her face was flushed, hair slightly disheveled and the sweet sugary scent of her perfume filled the air with a slight undertone of alcohol which looked like it was spilt on her from the faint stain on her dress.  

She gave you a once-over, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the door like she had you cornered.

“Wow,” she said. “Of all people.”

You weren’t sure if she was talking to herself or to you, but her tone made your stomach tighten. “Sorry?” You kept your expression calm, hands slowly releasing the grip on the sink. You weren’t sure what this was, but you already didn’t like it.

She walked farther in and leaned against the counter beside you, like she owned the space. Like she’d done it before. “So, what’s your deal?” she asked. “You just, like… blink at him and suddenly Kenny McCormick goes celibate?”

Your brow twitched slightly, but you didn’t answer. Her eyes flicked to your reflection in the mirror.

“That’s wild,” she muttered. “He used to call me at, like, 2 a.m. Just to hook up. Sometimes I wouldn’t even get to take my coat off before he had his hands on me.” She leaned against the counter beside you, crossing her arms. “You know Kenny’s just a whore, right?”

The sentence hit the air like a punch. Your stomach did a weird little twist, not because the information was anything new, but because she said it so casually, like it was some public announcement.

“He’ll flirt with anything that has a pulse,” she added, inspecting her nails. “Used to be fun, I guess, until he got all weird.”

Your brows knit slightly, lips pressing together. You didn’t flinch, but you felt the words settle uncomfortably between your ribs. You said nothing, keeping your expression unreadable, but your silence didn’t stop her.

She let out a short laugh, “I’m not even mad. I just think it’s funny. He sleeps with half the school, but you? No, suddenly he’s all respectful. Gentle. Holding back.” She rolled her eyes. “He never did that with me. Not with anyone.”

You finally turned to face her, not because you were ready to say something back, but because it suddenly hit you: she wasn’t sad. She wasn’t even bitter about him being with you. She was bitter because she wasn’t the exception.

And for some reason… you were.

She smirked at your silence. “He’s still a whore, you know. Just a whore with a favorite now.”

And with that, she unlocked the door and slipped out, leaving behind the scent of her perfume and a strange swirl of tension that made your reflection feel unfamiliar.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

You stepped out of the bathroom, heart still humming from what had just happened.

The hallway was crowded now, music loud, voices rising over one another, lights flashing in strobe-like patterns from the living room. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The party had become too much.

You moved fast and quiet through the hallway, not even bothering to look for Red at this point; slipping past a couple making out against a wall and a group of people yelling about something in the kitchen. You didn’t stop until you reached the sliding door to the backyard and stepped out.

The air was cold. It bit your skin in that refreshing, almost comforting way. You breathed it in and let it settle in your lungs. The sky was dark, stars barely visible above the glow of Clyde’s overpriced string lights draped across the fence and over the pool. Everything was gold and soft and quiet out here. Just the distant pulse of the bass from inside.

You walked slowly to the edge of the pool and sat on the cool stone. Your knees tucked against your chest, arms wrapped tight, head tilted slightly as you stared at the way the water shimmered.

It was peaceful here.

Until you heard the door slide open again.

You didn’t turn around, but you heard the footsteps; lazy, uneven, like whoever it was hadn’t fully committed to walking over yet.

Then: his voice.

“I didn’t think she’d say anything to you.”

You didn’t answer, but your fingers tightened on the fabric of your pants.

Kenny came up slowly and stopped a few feet from you, his hands in his jacket pockets, breath coming out in soft, white clouds. You could tell from the tone of his voice that he wasn’t angry, more tired, maybe. Or annoyed.

“She’s been on some weird jealousy thing,” he added. “Trying to mess with stuff that isn’t even hers anymore.”

You finally glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring out at the water, jaw tight, face calm but unreadable in the light.

“She didn’t say anything I didn’t already know,” you said eventually, voice quiet but steady.

He looked over at that.

“You think I’m like that?” he asked. “A whore?”

The question was said like a joke, but only on the surface. He even smiled a little when he said it, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was testing the mood. But there was something under it, something that didn’t land quite as light.

You didn’t answer. Not because you meant to hurt him, but because you honestly didn’t know what to say.

Your silence hung in the space between you like smoke.

He blinked slowly, then looked back toward the pool. “Cool,” he muttered under his breath. “Guess I deserve that.”

You opened your mouth like you might say something, then shut it again. The air had shifted. The soft, peaceful distance was now threaded with something slightly heavier. Something careful.

“I don’t mess with her anymore,” he said, more to the water than to you. “Haven’t for a while. Not because of drama or anything. Just didn’t want to.”

You said nothing again, but you were listening now. Closer than before.

He pulled his hands from his jacket pockets and let them rest on his knees, looking like he was figuring out how honest to be.

“I’ve liked someone else for a while now,” he said. “Not in a…stupid way. Just like- ”

He trailed off, the words sticking.

You didn’t look at him, but you could feel him glancing at you. Waiting.

“I know,” you said after a beat.

He nodded, almost to himself.

“And you don’t want anything to do with that,” he said softly, not as a question. Just a fact he was trying to swallow.

You shifted a little, not pulling away, but not moving closer either. “I never said that.”

He looked at you, really looked this time. And you didn’t look away.

The distance between you was small, but not small enough to touch. The tension wasn’t romantic or intense, it was something quieter. Something cautious. Two people sitting at the edge of something they didn’t quite have the words for yet.

Kenny let out a slow breath, then glanced around at the backyard, his expression softening just a little before he smirked.

“You know,” he said, “I feel like I’ve seen this scene in Stranger Things before. The quiet one goes outside and then she gets taken into the Upside Down.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in tone, and the very dumb image of that made your lip twitch into the smallest smile.

He caught it.

“There it is,” he said, eyes warming, voice just a bit gentler now. “Knew I could get something.”

You rolled your eyes, but somewhat enjoyed his presence, it didn't feel heavy or forced.

“I’M TOTALLY GONNA FUCKING DO IT!”

The words tore through the air like a chainsaw revving through silence, startling both of you into turning. It was the kind of voice that cracked with adrenaline and beer; shouted from the roof of Clyde’s house, of course.

You followed the direction of the chaos, and sure enough, there he was: a shirtless guy in swim trunks and socks standing on the sloped shingles of the roof like he was king of the world or about to snap an ankle. He wobbled forward a step, arms windmilling for balance, and you noticed he had a half-deflated flamingo pool float clutched around his waist like a safety vest.

Your eyes narrowed.

You had no idea who he was, but he looked like the kind of kid teachers always paired you with in class, hoping your “maturity” would rub off on him. Clearly, it never took. He looked vaguely familiar in the way all boys with too much confidence and not enough brain cells did.

A small crowd had gathered below, spilling out from the back door, people still holding drinks and snacks as they pointed and laughed. Music still thumped inside, but no one paid it any attention anymore.

“BROOOOO, JUMP!” someone shouted from the grass, flashlight on and phone aimed. “WE’RE RECORDING, DO IT FOR THE SNAP!”

Another voice added, “Bet you five bucks he misses the pool and smashes his knee.”

“He doesn’t even go here,” someone muttered from behind a tree, sipping a Capri-Sun like it was wine.

The guy on the roof turned in a circle, milking the attention, arms stretched like he was summoning thunder from the sky. “THIS ONE’S FOR MY EX!” he roared.

You raised a brow.

Someone below screamed back, “SHE BROKE UP WITH YOU TWO MONTHS AGO AND SHE’S AT HER GRANDMA’S HOUSE, CHAD!”

He hesitated a moment, just long enough to let the doubt set in.

The boy raised his arms again, either for balance or dramatic effect, it was hard to tell. He was pacing like a nervous squirrel, peeking down at the pool, then back at the crowd. There was a solid five seconds where it really looked like he was gonna back out.

You deadpanned, “I hope he fucking hits the concrete.”

Kenny laughed, low and genuine beside you. “God, you’re mean.”

You rolled your eyes.

Then, he screamed.

“FOR HONOR! FOR GLORY! FOR ASHLEY, YOU HEARTLESS WITCH!”

And then he launched.

Except it wasn’t a launch.

It was a flailing, midair windmill of limbs and panic. The flamingo floatie flew off almost instantly and landed uselessly in the grass. His left sock slipped off mid-jump. He twisted sideways in the air like a drunk ballerina having a midlife crisis.

People screamed. Some with excitement. Some with very real fear.

There was a moment; split-second, freeze-frame stillness, where it looked like he was not going to make it.

“OH SH--” someone shrieked.

Then, a loud splash. He landed dead center in the pool. An explosion of water blasted upward like a geyser. A rogue wave slapped the nearby patio, soaking two girls and knocking over a folding chair. Someone’s vape flew into the bushes. You swore the pool itself sighed in pain.

For a beat, nobody moved.

Then his head popped up, soaked and gasping.

“I’M GOOD!”

“You cracked your skull, Chad!”

“I SAID I’M GOOD!”

Laughter erupted around you. Half the crowd cheered. The other half were too busy checking if they caught it on video. The flamingo lay forgotten in the grass like a discarded symbol of lost dreams.

The noise of the party carried on behind you, someone inside was shouting over music, another fight might’ve been breaking out by the kitchen, and someone else was clearly crying near the front lawn, but out here by the pool, everything felt a little quieter. Like you were just watching the circus from a safe distance.

Kenny leaned back against the railing beside you, not touching you but close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him in the chilly night air.

After a pause, he tilted his head toward you. “Wanna get outta here?”

You hesitated just a second. Then gave a small nod.

He didn’t say anything else. He just gently stepped down off the edge of the deck, glancing back once to make sure you followed. You did, casually tossing your empty cup into a trash bin on the way out.

Behind you, the party raged on, still echoing with laughter and chaos.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

The studio was silent except for the rhythmic thuds of pointe shoes hitting the flooring and Anya’s sharp claps echoing against the mirrors.

You were already sweating, strands of hair escaping your bun and clinging to your temple as you stood in fifth position, arms en bas. The afternoon sun bled through the long studio windows, casting angular shadows over the rows of dancers stretching, adjusting tights, or waiting quietly for their turn.

Red was seated in the back, cross-legged on the floor with a to-go cup of iced coffee, watching the rehearsal like it was a drama series. She gave you a small thumbs-up when you glanced her way.

Anya stood with her arms folded, a tall, graceful figure dressed in all black, her scarf somehow dramatic and practical at once. She clapped once, then pointed toward the speakers.

“From the top. Pas de deux section. I want sharp, controlled lifts and commitment in your upper backs this time. Don’t melt into it. Sculpt the air.”

You exhaled deeply and nodded, stepping to center with Mason, your assigned partner. Mason was tall, lean, and perfectly competent, just not particularly focused. His dark curls were plastered to his forehead and he offered you a half-smile as the music began.

You began the sequence in adagio, moving into a développé à la seconde with your left leg, holding the extension high with your arms in third. Mason caught your waist, lifting you into a promenade in arabesque. Your breath was shallow, controlled.

Then came the transition; one you’d rehearsed a hundred times by now. Mason’s hand found your waist, steady and rehearsed, guiding you into an assisted pirouette. Your right foot snapped to retiré, spine tall, arms tight. One, two, three rotations, clean. Controlled. You felt your breath match the rhythm of the piano track, your focus narrowing to nothing but the count in your head.

But on the next phrase, the choreography shifted into the overhead lift.

Mason’s grip shifted, just a second too late.

You felt it before it happened. That sickening beat of imbalance. Your foot slid just slightly on the Marley floor. His hold faltered. There was nothing to brace yourself on.

Then you were falling.

It all happened too fast for your mind to register, but just slow enough for your body to brace.

You hit the floor hard, tailbone first, a sharp slap of impact against the vinyl surface, then your elbow smacked down and a jolt of pain radiated from your spine to your shoulders.

The music didn’t even stop at first. You lay there, breath knocked clean from your lungs, blinking at the high studio lights above you.

Then came the rush.

Red was up in an instant. “Oh my god- ”

“Stop the music!” Anya’s sharp voice cut through the echo of footsteps and gasps, her heels clicking like gunshots across the floor. The music stuttered off a second later, replaced by that eerie silence that feels heavier than sound.

You sat up slowly, blinking hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but your body had already gone cold with adrenaline. A tremble worked its way through your arms, your heart thudding like it was trying to keep you awake.

“Are you okay?” Mason hovered beside you, his face a pale sheet of panic. “I- I thought I had you, I swear- ”

You didn’t answer. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Anya was beside you now, crouched low, her usually stern face lined with concern. “Shhh, don’t move too fast. Let me see.”

You winced as she gently pressed at your lower back. A breath hitched in your throat when her fingers grazed the edge of your spine. Pain radiated upward, slow and hot, like something unraveling beneath the surface.

“She needs ice,” Red said, her voice firm as she grabbed her bag and pulled out the small emergency kit she always carried.

“No more dancing today,” Anya said with finality, already kneeling beside you with a practiced calm. “Rebecca, help her to the back. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

You tried to nod, but the movement only made the ache in your lower back throb deeper. Your throat burned with the effort not to cry in front of everyone. You hated attention like this, especially the pity kind.

Red wrapped an arm around your waist as you slowly rose to your feet, leaning into her for balance when your knees buckled a little under your weight.

“I got you,” she whispered, her lips close to your ear. You clung to her with your good arm, letting her guide you slowly across the floor, everyone else respectfully avoiding your eyes.

Behind you, Mason hovered awkwardly, still apologizing under his breath. “I didn’t mean to- ”

You didn’t look back.

Red helped you settle on the folded mats in the back corner of the room, where the spare yoga blocks and old floor fans collected dust. The moment you sat down, your body ached in protest. One side of your hip already felt hot and swollen beneath your tights.

Red handed you a cold compress, then crouched beside you again, cross-legged and quiet.

“You good?” she asked, her voice soft enough that it didn’t make you flinch.

“Yeah. Just sore.” You exhaled shakily, resting your head against the mirror behind you.

You reached for your hip and pressed the compress gently against it. The swelling was noticeable already.

“One side of my ass looks like JLo,” you muttered, deadpan.

Red stifled a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

Anya returned a moment later, her usual steel-edge softened. She handed you a gel ice pack and a stretchy wrap for your arm, her tone gentler than usual.

“We’ll modify for you next week,” she said. “Don’t be a hero. Don’t push through the pain. That’s how dancers end careers.”

You nodded, small and quiet, unable to meet her eyes. The phrase end careers echoed somewhere in your head, but you didn’t let it stick.

Outside the mat corner, the music started up again, new formation, new pairing, the same routine… just without you.

You leaned back, letting your sore shoulder rest on the mirror behind you, your gaze drifting toward the middle of the studio where Mason continued, noticeably shaken, trying to keep up with the next combination.

You didn’t say anything.

You just pressed the ice deeper into your hip, closed your eyes, and tried not to feel like you were falling all over again.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Red was curled up sideways on your bed, flipping through a playbill she got from school when they were handing it out, informing everyone of the upcoming play, Romeo and Juliet or whatever version the theater arts teacher was forcing the students who, some were there for only extra credits; to perform. You sat on the floor with your back against the nightstand, arms tucked into the sleeves of her hoodie like it had become a second skin.

The room was softly lit by the late afternoon glow filtering in through your window, casting a sleepy haze over the floor.

“You have to come see the next school musical,” Red said, her legs swinging off the edge of your bed. “I’m not saying I’m bribing you with Sour Patch Kids and gas station iced coffee, but I am.”

You looked up from your sketchpad where you had half-heartedly doodled a pointe shoe and a slice of cake, side by side. “You’re literally always bribing me.”

“And it works.”

Red opened her mouth for a dramatic rebuttal just as your mom’s voice floated up the stairs.

“Girls! I made toasted bagels, cream cheese and strawberry jam! Come down if you’re hungry!”

You met Red’s gaze and shrugged. “She means you specifically.”

“Obviously,” she grinned. “I’m the favorite child.”

Downstairs, the kitchen smelled warm and buttery, the kind of cozy that only happened when your dad had jazz playing faintly in the background and your mom was humming while slicing fruit she wasn’t even going to eat.

Red practically skipped to the kitchen island, grabbing a plate like she lived there which, in some ways, she did. Your mom looked up with a bright smile. “There you are, sweet girl.”

“Heyy,” Red grinned, already biting into a warm bagel.

Your dad leaned against the sink, flipping through a recipe book like he was pretending to help but mostly just supervising the vibe.

You took the plate your mom handed you without a word but gave her a soft smile of appreciation, and she gave your arm a little squeeze in return.

“You feeling okay today?” she asked gently. “How’s your back?”

“Still sore,” you said quietly. “But it’s fine.”

“Did that boy drop you on purpose?” your dad asked with mock suspicion. “Should I call your ballet teacher and threaten her?”

“She’d probably threaten you back,” Red mumbled through a mouthful of jam.

You smirked. “I think she has a black belt.”

After a few more minutes of low chatter and the comforting clink of mugs and butter knives, you and Red retreated back upstairs, bagels in hand, socks sliding across the hardwood like kids.

You collapsed back onto your bed, your head on her shoulder this time. She didn’t say anything, just let you rest, scrolling through her phone and occasionally showing you a cursed meme.

Red peeked over at you, her voice quieter now. “Does it still hurt?”

You nodded faintly. “A little.”

She shifted to lie more sideways, her head propped on a throw pillow. “I’ll break Mason’s legs.”

“That’s excessive,” you replied dryly.

“I’m just saying, I’m not above violence for you.”

You smiled at that. The real kind. The one that tugged at the corner of your lips like you weren’t trying to hide it.

Red noticed. She didn’t say anything.

Instead, she reached toward the bedside table and grabbed the remote. “Wanna watch something trashy and dramatic? Like… reality show levels of dumb?”

You tilted your head. “Do we have Oreos?”

Red stood up like she was on a mission. “Let me check your pantry.”

Red returned ten seconds later with exactly one broken Oreo in her hand and a look of pure betrayal on her face. “We’re out. Your house is lawless.”

You groaned. “We have Nutter Butters.”

“I guess we suffer then.”

The two of you spent the rest of the evening switching between making fun of bad TV, scrolling through memes, and you slowly, gradually relaxing in a way you hadn’t been able to in days. The pain in your back dulled. The noise in your head faded. And even though you didn’t say much, because you never did, Red knew exactly how to fill the silence in a way that didn’t feel heavy.

“Soooo,” Red turned to you and smiled before continuing “What's up with you and Kenny?.”

"There's no me and Kenny," you said, your voice flat but not harsh.

You weren’t lying, technically. You hadn’t kissed. You hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers. But still, something lingered in the air between you lately, quiet and curious and unsaid.

“Mmhmm.” Red didn’t press. She just raised an eyebrow and took another bite.

You looked back at the TV, suddenly more aware of the warm weight of your blanket and the soft throb in your back.

“You’re not doing that thing again where you pretend not to care about someone just so you don’t get hurt, right?” Red asked, not unkindly.

You let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh. “I don’t even know him.”

Red leaned her head back against your pillow and said, “That’s the thing. He wants you to.”

Another long beat of silence stretched across the room, soft and slow, because she was somewhat right.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

guys im so sorry for the long wait but anyways tomorrow is my birthday and i was shopping most of the time for it and my last exam is tmr also before i go into my last year of high school (im gonna kms)

so i thought i would put this out before.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

tags: @asillysimp, @senhoritaapple

[sirenseraph]

˗ˏˋ☀︎ 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓣𝓸 𝓨𝓸𝓾 ☀︎ˎˊ˗

𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒔𝒌𝒊 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˗ˏˋ “𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒾𝓉 , 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒹𝑜 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 “ ˎˊ˗

ʚ𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑ɞ

Like lilies, they bloom in quiet grace; soft petals wrapped around steady roots. Delicate yet resilient, they lean on each other, thriving in the light of shared secrets and gentle strength. Their love, a fragrant whisper in a bustling world , pure, untamed, and endlessly growing.

Two childhood lovers find their way back to each other after years of hatred.

[sirenseraph]

i wanna start writing for kyle more

my fav black king.

i also have two more exams with a huge gap so the new chapter plus a kyle fic is coming out soon.

[sirenseraph]

ᯓ 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷ᯓ

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩 𝟏: 𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

“Shes been living in her uptown world, I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy”

The tranquility of your silence is always disrupted by your loud friend and the boys from your neighborhood whose nightly routine is staring at you from the basketball court as you return from ballet.

Tw: Freeloading

Masterlist

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You let out a slow breath, the stretch of your legs graceful and elegant as you danced to the classical music. You’ve been doing this routine over and over again for the past month to the point it was synced into your brain like a song on repeat.

“Keep lifting your legs higher” your dance teacher Anya, yelled from the sidelines. She was a past Russian ballet student and moved to Colorado after a serious leg injury which required her to use a cane to walk which she refused to use unless it meant pointing it threateningly at one of you.

You did as she told; body moving gracefully against the floors of the dance studio. You did perfect Fouetté turns one after the other, letting the adrenaline take over your body, your feet were hurting but the sting made it all feel better. You came to a stop, bowing down gracefully, feeing the new pull on your back as your hands extended to the sides.

You imagined yourself up on the stage, hundreds of people watching as you performed. The adrenaline hit like a slow, intoxicating wave kind of like the effect of the edibles Red would sneak before a party, minus the paranoia. Here, on the floor of the rehearsal studio, there was no room for panic. Only precision. Only movement. Only grace.

Your body curved forward in a deep arabesque, fingertips stretched out like you were reaching for something just out of reach; something you couldn’t name. You held the pose for a breath, then flowed into a pirouette, arms slicing gently through the air. The hardwood beneath your slippers echoed your weightless turns like a distant heartbeat. Your bun had started to loosen at the edges, soft wisps falling against your cheekbones, but you didn’t stop.

The music swelled, and the room blurred. There was no Anya. No mirrors. No fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Just you and the stage in your head.

You slowly began to stand upright again, chest rising and falling from the last few sequences, muscles humming like electricity under your skin. Clapping echoed through the studio, pulling you out of your trance.

Everyone else had stopped. Anya was clapping too, her face warm and proud.

“Well done,” she said, stepping forward, arms folded loosely. “Just remember to take deeper breaths during that second sequence. You lost your footing for a moment oh, and lift your leg higher during the développé. Really aim to show the length of your lines, darling.”

You gave a small nod your usual quiet, obedient acknowledgement but something flickered in your expression, something like pride. Not arrogance, not even confidence. Just… pride. That had felt good.

You stepped off the floor, ankles sore and calves burning in the best way. Every part of your body ached, but it was the kind of ache you craved. You moved slowly toward the corner of the studio where your ballet bag sat, settled down on the worn mat you always used, and grabbed your water bottle. You took a long, slow sip, feeling the cold spread down your throat and into your chest. You were still catching your breath, but it wasn’t labored just heavy with the rush of it all.

The satin ribbons of your pointe shoes were starting to come undone. You leaned forward, fingers deftly retying them while your thoughts drifted. Your legs were trembling slightly, but that was nothing new. Every ache reminded you that you were doing something that mattered to you. Something real.

Red sat cross-legged just outside the practice area, flipping through her phone but glancing up now and then. She caught your eyes and grinned.

“Okay, I’m not usually one for ballet,” she said with a raised brow, “but you? You’re like… ethereal or something. You look like you’re going to float into the ceiling.”

You gave a breathy laugh through your nose and shook your head.

“I’m serious,” Red insisted. “It’s kind of wild seeing you that zoned in. Like, I know you love it, but watching it is different. You were glowing or whatever.”

You didn’t reply, but the slight crinkle near your eyes was enough to show you appreciated it. Compliments always felt heavier than they should’ve. You didn’t know how to hold them.

“You okay though?” she added, her voice dipping into a more genuine tone. “You looked like your legs were giving out near the end.”

You hesitated, then nodded again. “They’re fine. Just tired.”

“You’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately,” Red said, her eyes narrowing a little. “Even more than usual. Is this about the showcase? Or… is something else going on…you know…with Mason?”

You avoided her gaze and busied yourself with untying the ribbons now, letting them fall into loose curls beside your ankles.

But you didn’t say any of that. Instead, you just whispered, “I just want to get it right.”

Red didn’t push. She just reached over and nudged your foot gently with hers, a small, wordless gesture of support.

Across the studio, Anya started speaking with another student, correcting posture, gesturing grandly with her hands as usual. The music had faded into a low background hum now, barely audible, and the other dancers were starting to pack up. You took one more sip of your water and leaned your head back against the mirror behind you, eyes fluttering closed.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that just breathing, still in your own little bubble but when you opened your eyes again, the sun was beginning to dip through the windows, casting soft golden streaks over the hardwood floors.

“Ready to go?” Red asked gently.

You nodded and stood, slowly rolling your shoulders back. You could already feel the soreness settling in, a deep ache in your hips and ankles. But it felt earned.

You glanced once more at the floor where you had danced. You could still feel the echo of your own footsteps, the ghost of movement trailing behind. And for the first time in a while, the silence didn’t feel empty. It felt full.

As you closed the door to Red’s car, Nirvana was blasting on the radio making you scrunch your face. “You don’t like it?” she asked smiling at you lowing down the volume to hear you better

“You have the same horrible music taste as a 13 year old boy Rebecca.” you pulled your headphones out of your bag connecting them to your phone. “and you smell like cigarettes and axe body spray, you’re basically an angsty teenager.”

She rolled her eyes and raised the volume back up, reversing out of the dance studios parking lot and began driving to your house. You put on your headphones and raised the volume to max, trying to drown out the ear bleeding sounds of Red’s music.

With South Park being such a small town, you could basically put a name of the residents to each house you passed by. Everyone you knew were almost basically neighbors and you hated that.

You could recall the late nights of driving back home after rehearsals to find a group of boys from your school next door playing basketball. You knew them from the fact you could hear their voices from a mile away, the only quiet one was Wendy’s boyfriend Stan.

Though you rarely interacted with her, other than sitting at the same lunch table with her and her other friends because they were close with Red, you knew the both of them had a history of constantly breaking up and getting back together.

The only slightly good thing that came from your close knit neighborhood was the fact that Red came over to your house almost everyday to freeload and eat all the food your mom prepared.

As Red turned into the driveway, you could already see your mom’s car parked neatly in her usual spot, meaning she was home from work. Your dad’s wasn’t there, which meant he was still out, probably stuck in traffic or pretending to be productive at the office.

And because the universe was nothing if not consistent; the boys were exactly where they always were.

Kyle’s front yard looked less like a place people should live and more like a middle school gym class exploded all over it. Craig, Tolkien, Cartman, Kyle, Stan, and Clyde were aggressively playing basketball like it was a full-contact sport, while Butters sat on the curb with a juice box like the unofficial cheerleader nobody asked for.

You pulled your headphones out and stuffed them into your ballet bag, the satin ribbons of your pointe shoes slipping out with them.

Red wrinkled her nose like she smelled a crime scene. “I can literally smell the testosterone from here.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “That’s because you’re producing it.”

She smirked, snapping her gum. “You act all quiet but you’re such a little bitch when you open your mouth.” gently reaching over to nudge your shoulder.

You stepped out of the car, the gravel crunching under your shoes as you adjusted your jacket over your leotard. And right on cue, like they’d been trained; half the boys paused and looked over.

Kenny caught sight of you first. He was mid-dribble, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, shirt clinging to his chest, faintly showing off a few tattoos underneath. His expression shifted instantly, eyes lighting up like someone just turned the sun back on he didn't bother to continue guarding Kyle when his eyes flicked to the driveway and immediately lost focus. Kyle took the chance to move past him and score, but Kenny didn't care

Same as every day, he stopped to give you the same small wave, barely any movement, but there was something in it that was stupidly hopeful. Like maybe this time you would wave back, or even glace his way, but you never did. Gripping your bag as usual and beelining for the door.

His expression dropped into a small look of disappointment as he turned back around to his friends.

Cartman snorted loudly. "Ha the little poor boy got ignored."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Shes just shy"

“Shy?” Clyde barked a laugh. “Nah, bro. She didn’t even blink in your direction. I’ve seen mannequins react more.”

Stan jogged over, snatching the ball from the grass throwing it over to Tolkien. “You’re usually the one not giving girls the time of day. Now you’re out here waving like you’re in a Disney Channel original.”

“Dude,” Tolkien added, trying not to laugh. “You could literally have any girl in school. You’ve had teachers flirt with you.”

“She was a sub and she was like twenty-six, calm down,” Kenny muttered.

Craig shot him a look. “You let her draw a heart on your cast. You didn’t calm her down.”

Kenny let out a long, suffering sigh and bent down to retie his shoelace, like maybe if he just ignored them all, the torment would end. It didn’t.

“Bro,” Cartman added, “just admit it. You’re in love.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah you are,” Stan cut in. “You’ve been waving at her every day for like two months. She probably thinks you’re having a stroke.”

Tolkien grinned. “She got you pressed.”

“She looked at me once for, like, three seconds in ninth grade,” Kenny muttered defensively.

“That was because you fell down the stairs,” Kyle snapped.

“She giggled.”

“She giggled because you almost landed on Cartman.”

Cartman puffed up. “You know, this is honestly doing wonders for my self-esteem. Watching Captain Pantie-Dropper get humbled like this? It’s fucking beautiful.”

“I’m not humbled,” Kenny grumbled as he stood up slowly, face flushed but not just from the heat. His eyes flicked back toward your house again, just for a second. “Whatever,” he muttered. “I like her. She’s different.”

Cartman wheezed. But Kenny just smirked, quiet and stubborn, brushing his damp hair out of his face.

Craig raised a brow, “You make girls cry for sport,” he added. “Now you’re out here waving like a dorky anime boyfriend?”

“Next thing we know, he’s gonna be writing poetry and listening to sad boy music,” Cartman said. “You gonna start wearing cardigans too asshole?”

Butters perked up from the grass where he was drawing in the dirt with a stick. “I think it’s sweet. Sometimes people just need to feel ignored to feel seen.”

“Shut up, Butters.”

Kenny caught the ball when Tolkien passed it lazily his way again. He didn’t say anything. Just looked, where your front door had already closed behind you.

The both of you made your way into the house, you could hear the soft hums of your mother’s voice coming from the kitchen. Red being her usual self rushed into the kitchen to greet your mother, who you knew would instantly offer your big backed friend a plate of whatever she was making.

You placed your duffle bag on the floor and made your way into the kitchen seeing Red already seated and chatting with your mother.

She turned to you with a stuffed face and smiled. You scowled at your friends behavior but found it amusing and took a seat next to her.

“Hey sweetie how was rehearsal?” your mother asked, already preparing a plate for you.

“fine” you turned to Red and continued watching her scarf down the food before averting your gaze to the plate placed in-front of you.

“I’m going over to Bebe’s later and you should come.” You turned to Red with a dismissive look.

“Can’t, I have to study for History.”

“Come on Princess. You’re always either studying or dancing or doing some other shit which basically means you being stuck up in your room like an actual princess.” Red let out an exaggerated sigh. “You need to leave your room for once and actually talk to people you know”

You turned away from her and started picking at your food.

"I talk to people" you retorted back at her.

"Me and your parents don't count so that just leaves your cat."

"Hey you were the one who bought Miso for me." you huffed.

After your breakup with Mason, you let yourself shy away even more to the point you picked up a couple of new hobbies to keep yourself more occupied since you didn't have someone to spend those moments with anymore, and with that, Red opted on buying you this fluffy white Persian cat that she named Miso.

You sighed and continued picking at your food before pushing the plate away completely.

Red noticed your agitation and dropped the topic. Getting you to leave your house for something other than ballet or school was impossible.

She got up and turned to your mother with a smile. “Thanks for lunch today and every other day” she turned to you. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

With that she left your house, leaving you and your mother in the comfortable silence and unspoken words.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

School was the epitome of a horror house. Loud noises flooded the music that was faintly blasting in your ears even if the volume was on max. You adjusted the necklace around your neck, the intricate design an original one that you made last night after doing those new stretches that Anya insisted on.

As you continued walking you felt a shift in the weight of your body. You didn’t even need turn to see who it was because you knew it was Red by the faint scent of nicotine that clung to the band t-shirt that was bought at a rock concert she dragged you to, despite your protests and her shaggy red hair that blocked your left vision.

You removed your headphones, tucking it in your pocket taking in the noise all around. You could hear the jingle of the keychain you made for her for her birthday and the footballers banging their lockers for a reason no one could comprehend.

You couldn’t wait to get back into the dance studio. It was more quiet despite the tapping of pointe shoes, the classical music and the mean streak Anya had going where she wanted to perfect everything before the big show and was constantly yelling at your dance partner Mason about his sloppy lifts.

Usually you paid no mind to anyone around you, keeping your head straight, headphones in, while Red would wave at everyone she knew which was almost half the school like she was God’s greatest gift to South Park High.

“Oh my gosh Bebe was being such a bitch yesterday,” Red complained, chewing on that minty gum she stole from your pocket; to drown out the scent of weed in her breath before continuing, “i swear she kept complaining on and on about Clyde, like at this point just date girls. I did and I turned out okay.”

You shot her an amused look. Red’s last break up ended really badly with her last girlfriend ending things because she just dated your friend to see how it felt to date a girl, before going back with her ex-boyfriend.

This ended up with Red getting high in your backyard while you sat there listening to her rant, and later staying up till 3 a.m. watching Love Island USA while she kept saying that Kaylor should’ve left Aaron.

“Yeah, whatever twirls your bush Red.” you rolled your eyes and kept walking until you made it to your locker.

Red leaned against the lockers with a sigh, popping her gum. “I’m just saying, the world would be a better place if it had a few more lesbians like me and you in it.”

She nudged your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I’m not even-“

“Shh,” she cut you off. “Let me live in the fantasy.”

But despite Red’s never-ending commentary and the usual morning chaos, what made school worse, so much worse, was the longing stares you kept getting from a certain friend group. Or more specifically, a certain blonde-haired boy known for flirting with anything that had a pulse.

You usually ignored him. You weren’t the type to fall for dumb pretty boys with commitment issues and a reputation for making girls giggle in gym class. Usually.

But today was different.

You felt his eyes on you the moment you stepped into the hallway. You didn’t even want to look. You weren’t going to look. You were above that.

And yet, just once, you glanced back. Just one second.

And of course, he was already looking. Head tilted slightly like he was surprised you had finally acknowledged him, blue eyes narrowing the tiniest bit, like he was trying to figure you out.

You blinked, then turned back to your locker immediately, heat crawling up your neck.

“Bitch, was that Kenny looking at you?” Red’s whisper was so loud it echoed.

“Shut up.” You shoved your locker closed a little too hard making you flinch slightly and immediately regret the force. “I’m not doing this today.”

But when you turned to head to class, you didn’t miss the way Kenny’s eyes followed you. Still tilted. Still curious.

And this time, Kenny smiled brightly "She looked at me today," he said casually, chewing his gum.

Stan, leaning against the lockers looked up at Kenny from his phone and raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"She never looks."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Wow. So romantic. Someone alert the newspapers. Let's face it poor boy shes too busy riding Red's dildo to notice you."

Kenny just smiled. "I'll find a way to get her to talk."

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧

Usually at lunch you opted to sit in the arts room where your favorite teacher Mrs. Lacy worked, correcting different paintings and art pieces from various students while she basked in your silence, but ever since she got pregnant, you've been going there alone now to work on new pieces of jewelry while Red and her other friends trained on the court. They had a big volleyball match coming up meaning you having to sit in a crowd with hundreds of other sweaty and loud teenagers like it was a mosh pit at a rager.

You walked to the art room, seeing the door slightly ajar. Usually no one else went inside there besides a couple of art students to pick up some of their old pieces. You didn't know what to expect, but there he was, the familiar blonde, Kenny, and a girl whose name you didn't know. They looked like they were arguing about something before she turned away and walked past you, shoulders bumping softly on the way out

You stood there in the doorway, feeling like you were intruding, but there was no way to back out now. Kenny was still standing there, that usual confident smirk on his face, though the brief argument with the girl seemed to have left the air a little… off. Kenny seemed ready to follow her, but then he stopped, eyes locking with yours.

“Hey,” he said, smiling, and up close, you could see why so many girls threw themselves at him. He was handsome, really handsome. Those pretty blue eyes, the faint freckles dusting his nose, and the piercing on his left nostril… His right eyebrow was pierced, too, but not like the other one, it had a thin, jagged scar running through it, a scar that looked like it had a story behind it.

You didn’t respond at first, just standing there, waiting to see if he would fill the silence.

“I didn’t know you did art,” he said, his smile still there, though now it seemed a little less certain, a little more tentative. He wasn’t expecting this conversation. Not really.

“I don’t,” you responded flatly. The bluntness of it seemed to catch him off guard, and for a moment, the smile faltered.

He recovered quickly, though, that same faint dimple showing as he leaned against a nearby table, trying to ease the tension. “So… what do you do in here, then?”

You shifted a little, feeling the weight of the awkwardness from his argument still hanging in the air. “I make jewelry sometimes ,” you said quietly, eyes avoiding his. “but i’m just here to sketch costume designs….”

Kenny blinked, obviously processing that. “Jewelry, huh?” he repeated, and there was a slight pause before he added, “That’s… cool.”

Another awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure whether to leave or say something else. Kenny seemed to realize the same thing at the same time. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes now, though, it was more of a polite gesture than anything.

“Right… well, I should probably… uh, get going,” he muttered, glancing toward the door like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. “Don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

You nodded, not really sure if that was supposed to be an excuse or a genuine reason, but it didn’t matter. He was already backing away.

“Catch you later,” he said, though it wasn’t as confident as before, and with that, he turned and walked out of the room.

You stood there for a moment, feeling the echo of the conversation linger before you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You grumbled under your breath as you and Red walked through the school hallways, but you didn’t argue. You weren’t the type to challenge Red when she was on a roll.

The feeling of regret evident, from Red convincing you to go to school to pick up something from Kenny which you knew either consisted of some kind of substance or a new vape which she insisted she needed to stay functioning despite only sitting in the back and scrolling on her phone

Plus, ballet rehearsals today were long. Three hours long. They were working on a group piece for an upcoming winter showcase, which meant lifts, partner work, and Anya yelling things like "elongate your lines!" every six minutes.

“Okay but hear me out,” Red said dramatically as you walked down the hallway together. “What if you don’t go to rehearsal today, and instead we get slushies and complain about life on the school roof?”

“I’d love that,” you muttered, “but my soul belongs to Miss Anya.”

Red snorted. “Ballet girls are terrifying.”

“You’re just figuring this out now?”

As you and Red rounded the corner, you nearly crashed into the familiar chaos that was the basketball boys around a vending machine, arguing over who owed who chips, while Clyde stood off to the side eating pretzels like it was a live episode of a sitcom.

“You said you had change!” Cartman was yelling at Kyle. “You said it, you lied to my face, Broflovski!”

“I said I might have change,” Kyle snapped. “Might! That’s not a promise, dumbass.”

“You’re all idiots,” Kenny said, casually leaning against the vending machine.

That’s when he noticed you and Red walking past. His eyes immediately flicked to you and his lazy smirk showed up right on cue. “Sup Red”

He looked at you with his usual smirk, his gaze wasn’t exactly subtle either. It lingered just a second too long on your leotard and ballet tights, tracing the curve of your figure with quiet interest before flicking back up to meet your eyes. You felt your stomach twist, not in discomfort, but in that dizzying way that made it hard to breathe for a second. “Hey,” he said, voice low and smooth, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

You just nodded in acknowledgement.

"You got my stuff McCormick?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows like they were apart of some shady back alley deal and not two juniors standing next to a busted vending machine.

"Yeah I got you"

You stood there quietly, it was often that Red would stop to talk to people while you awkwardly stood there, pretending to be very interested in a random wall. She tried her best to include you but you would rather dig your own grave than open your mouth and have a conversation. You now slightly moved towards Red after a loud bang was heard.

Cartman was now aggressively shaking the vending machine. "I paid for the barbeque chips and it gave me Funyuns, FUNYUNS Kyle!"

"They're the same thing!" Kyle shouted.

"They're not even in the same food group you communist ginger!"

Kyle rolled his eyes and run a hand through his messy set of curls. "You're a walking L"

"Yeah well you're a walking forehead"

The loud noise was slowly getting to you, and you could feel the overstimulation of all the shouting flooding your head.

"BRO HIT THE MACHINE HARDER!" Cartman yelled at Stan who was also now shaking the vending machine.

"Dude relax your balls it's literally stuck on the hook fatass." Stan continued to shake the machine for some hope that the desired snack would fall.

"I swear to God I'm gonna sue," Cartman muttered darkly "I'm gonna sue the school board. This is discrimination."

"Discrimination against what?" Clyde asked, still eating pretzels. "Fat people or idiots?"

"Both!" Cartman snapped, jabbing a finger at him. "And I will not be silenced."

"You literally never shut up." Kyle muttered

Kenny turned back to Red and handed her a new vape you knew she was going to go through so quickly and then go through the nic withdrawals on your bed.

Red slipped it into her bag and nodded at him. "Appreciate you, king"

Kenny nodded. "Yeah no problem you know I got you always." he winked and then turned back to you.

“So you got ballet or something?” Kenny asked, already knowing the answer but still hoping you’d say more than one word this time.

“Uhm… yeah.” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

He smiled, all lazy charm and pierced mischief. “Cool. We got practice too; big game coming up soon.” Then, after a beat, he added with a smirk, “Maybe you should come watch, I could show you a couple of moves. I’m pretty good with my hands.”

You blinked. That was… not what you were expecting. You didn’t say anything just stayed silent, face softly flushed now.

Kenny clearly found it amusing. His eyes lingered again, too long, too interested, and you felt your face start to heat up, the tension too thick for someone who just wanted to go stretch in a studio and avoid eye contact forever.

You turned toward Red. “Uhm, I’ll wait for you in the car.”

She nodded and smiled at you reassuringly. “Okay, babe. I’ll be right out.”

They both watched as you walked away, Kenny still wearing that smug, pleased expression like he’d just discovered something shiny he wasn’t done playing with.

Red turned to Kenny with a smug look on her face waiting for you to be far enough away from earshot before speaking. “You’re making it very obvious.”

Kenny smiled brightly but feigned innocence. “what do you mean Rebecca? I’m just trying to talk to her.”

Red rolled her eyes but then spoke almost very seriously but still keeping her playful tone. “Ken I know we’re good friends but I love her and I don’t want to see you going after her and hurting her. She’s not just some girl for you to hook up with.”

Kenny’s smile faltered just slightly not enough for most people to notice, but Red knew him too well. "Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, more grounded. “I’m not trying to mess with her. I swear.”

Red crossed her arms, not looking mad just protective, like a big sister on high alert. “You say that now, but I know how you are, Kenny. You’re smooth, flirty, whatever, most girls fall for that. She won’t. And even if she did, she’s not the type who can just brush things off if it goes wrong.”

Kenny glanced down the hallway in the direction you’d gone, his expression unreadable for a beat. “I know she’s not like that. That’s kinda the whole reason I…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

Red tilted her head. “The reason you what?”

Kenny gave her a small, lopsided grin, still avoiding her gaze. “The reason I noticed her in the first place, I guess.”

Red blinked, not expecting that. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, finally looking back at her. “She’s quiet, yeah, but… she’s got this calm thing going on.

“So…” Red finally said, arms crossed. “If I see even one hint of you pulling that usual Kenny ‘flirty then vanish’ crap, I swear to God…”

“Relax,” Kenny cut in, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “No vanishing. No messing around. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“I camped once.”

Red gave him a look but cracked a smile anyway. “Alright. Fine. But I’m watching you, McCormick.”

Kenny grinned again, that lazy, crooked smile that made it hard to tell whether he was being sincere or just messing with you. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.” Kenny leaned back against the vending machine again, exhaling. “So what does she like? Other than ballet and avoiding people.”

Red gave him a look. “You’re not getting cheat codes, Ken.”

“Come on,” he grinned. “Just one. A little one. Like… her favorite snack or something.”

Red laughed, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. She likes those weird off-brand chocolate chip cookies from the vending machine. The ones nobody ever buys.”

Kenny’s eyes lit up. “The sad dry ones?”

“Yeah. She calls them her ‘midday depression cookies.’”

Kenny snorted. “That’s… actually kind of adorable.”

Red raised a brow, clearly fighting back a smile. “Don’t tell her I said anything. She’ll kill me.”

He grinned. “My lips are sealed.”

Just then, Cartman let out a yell from the side. “HEY, I’m still waiting for my chips, Kyle! This vending machine is fucking racist or something!”

Red groaned. “I’m gonna get going before her teacher goes all Soviet Swan Queen on her ass.” she waved before she walked away. “See you, Ken, don’t miss me too much.”

Kenny laughed as she turned and walked off in your direction. “I’ll try no to, not promises.”

But even as the chaos of the vending machine squad picked back up, his eyes lingered down the hall again, right where you’d gone, and the smirk that played on his lips this time was a little softer. Not flirty. Just curious. Intrigued.

“The sad dry ones,” he muttered to himself. “Got it.”

first chapter done 🩰

hope you guys enjoyed it.

word count: 5436

ive written essays for school with less words than that lmao.

[sirenseraph]

✷𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝒹 𝒮/𝒪✷

- request

Masterlist

You’re the ultimate theatre kid: always humming show tunes under your breath, quoting lines from Heathers in casual conversation, and you own like three Playbill binders.

You’re constantly involved in productions; balancing school and playing the Baker’s Wife in Into the Woods while helping direct the school’s Mean Girls musical next semester.

Your passion is intense and beautifully unhinged. You go on full rants about how Matilda the Musical is peak storytelling or how Legally Blonde is criminally underrated.

You have 10 different alarms labeled “Audition in 10 minutes,” “Vocal warm-up,” and “Seriously get up, idiot.”

Kenny, the loving boyfriend that he is, finds your passion kind of fascinating, he doesn’t totally get the theatre world at first, but he loves how your face lights up when you talk about it.

He starts showing up to rehearsals “just to walk you home” but ends up sitting in the back row, watching quietly with his hood up and a smirk whenever you nail your solo. He lowkey brags about you. Like, shamelessly. “Yeah, that’s my girl on stage.”

You rope him into helping with tech crew once; he ends up in charge of fog effects and takes it way too seriously. Now he’s your unofficial fog boy and makes your dramatic entrances extra dramatic.

You don’t just talk about musicals, you infodump with emotional instability. Like, full body rants with hand gestures and voice changes. Kenny’s favorite thing is watching you passionately defend why Heathers is not about glorifying violence, it’s about power, identity, and trauma. He just watches with his chin in his hand like damn.

He brings you flowers after every show, never the same type twice, and always with a silly but still heartfelt note like “You didn’t trip this time. Proud of you.”

When you’re nervous before opening night, he kisses your forehead and goes, “You’re gonna be amazing, baby. Now go sing your little heart out.”

He starts sending you TikToks of musical theatre memes and pretends he doesn’t understand them, just to make you explain. Secretly he gets it. He gets all of it since he listens to you and made mental notes of everything, and also watched all the stuff you like just to talk about it with you.

During a particularly emotional rehearsal of Matilda, you break down because of stress, and he sneaks you offstage to breathe and just holds you until you’re okay again.

You catch him singing Legally Blonde’s “Chip on My Shoulder” under his breath while making breakfast and you’re like, “Excuse me?” and he blushes harder than ever.

The show’s over. You absolutely killed it, lead role, standing ovation, bouquet in hand, glitter still clinging to your lashes. Everyone’s at someone’s house for the cast after party. You’re curled into Kenny’s side on the couch in your crewneck and sweatpants, your voice hoarse from singing your lungs out. He’s playing with the hem of your sleeve, looking down at you.

“You were… insane. Like stupid talented. I might be in love with a Broadway legend before she’s famous.”

“I already told you, I’m going off-Broadway first. Gotta earn my trauma stripes.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Fine. I’ll just be the guy in the third row with an ‘I love you’ sign.”

He’s in the audience, front row, hood down, a rare sight. You’re Elle Woods, mid-performance of So Much Better, and you glance out just for a second, and there he is, literally mouthing every word because you forced him to watch the entire musical on YouTube like five times.

After the show, you find him outside, leaning on the wall with a cocky grin.

“You’re unreal. Like, actually. I think I’m Elle-sexual now.”

You smack his arm but kiss him anyway, sweaty stage makeup and all. “You were paying attention?”

“You were wearing pink leather. Of course I was.”

You SCREAMED when you got cast as Deloris. You cried. You danced. You said, “This is my Beyoncé arc.”

You roped him into playing a background nun for the cast photos and he looked so smug in the habit. He kept calling himself “Sister Kenny” all day.

You explained the entire plot of Sister Act over breakfast once, complete with accents, and he was so obsessed that he now refers to anyone he doesn’t like as “one of those crusty choir nuns.”

You live by “What You Want.” You call it your pre-audition hype anthem. You play it before exams. Kenny once caught you screaming the rap verse in the bathroom mirror with a hairbrush mic and you threatened to break up with him if he told anyone.

He saw you do the Bend and Snap on a doorframe once and almost walked into traffic.

“What the hell was that?”

“Elle Woods culture.”

You loathe the movie version of Mean Girls with a burning passion and Kenny knows better than to bring it up.

You made a Mean Girls playlist and ranked each character’s vocal range while ranting for 45 minutes. Kenny didn’t understand a word but was fully enchanted.

Your dream role is Janis because of “I’d Rather Be Me,” and Kenny literally said, “That’s your villain origin song.” He meant it as a compliment.

You tried to teach him the Someone Gets Hurt choreo and he accidentally slapped himself in the face. “I didn’t get hurt. I gave hurt.”

i accidentally deleted this, as well as the request so i had to redo it. (crying in the clurb)

i’ve never actually seen any of these musicals before so i had to do some research.

mwah. ily all 🎀

[sirenseraph]

what happened to the theatre kid x kenny???

my bitch ass accidentally deleted it and i was so busy studying and finishing up assignments.

luckily i had a screenshot of what i wrote but i’ll post it back again soon once i’ve finished making some changes to it/ making it longer. 🫶

[sirenseraph]

ᯓ 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷ᯓ

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁

ʚ𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑ɞ

The tranquility of your silence is always disrupted by your loud friend and the boys from your neighborhood.

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒙 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑪𝒂𝒕 𝒙 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓

𝑺𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝑰𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒙 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅

[sirenseraph]

HII I LOVE UR WRITING!! Could you possibly do Kenny with a fem reader who is very timid, keeps to herself and really only opens up around Kenny??🫶🏼🫶🏼

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒾𝒹 𝒮/𝒪ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Masterlist

“You took my breath away, so now I can’t suck in my stomach around you anymore.”

₍^. .^₎⟆

Kenny loves how quiet you are.

Don’t worry you don’t have to speak he likes being with you no matter what.

“don’t worry pretty, i speak enough for the both of us.”

Touchy as hell.

This man doesn’t know personal space if it hit him in the face.

You don’t mind though, you love that unlike you, he doesn’t mind the attention and curious glances from people wondering how he went from the biggest party animal to holding your bag and opening classroom doors for you.

Being the way you are, it came with you distancing yourself from people who were too loud; preferring your headphones and staying in quiet areas rather than around overwhelming crowds.

Somehow you ended up dating the loudest and most outgoing person in South Park and you love every second with him.

In public you’re quiet, sometimes tugging at the sleeve of kenny’s hoodie which he instinctively lowers his head for you to whisper to him.

In private you don’t shut up about your interests and he listens to you like he has all the time in the world. And for you he does.

He always looks over at you at big parties and large gatherings that his friends invited you both to; to make sure that you’re okay and not too overwhelmed.

You’re his first priority and he doesn’t care if he has to leave early just to make sure you’re comfortable.

Your parents love him and basically adopted him at this point; treating him like their own kid.

They adore your relationship dynamic and are very happy that you found someone who knows how to love you, care for you, and understand how you’re feeling despite your refusal to voice it out loud; he can tell by your body language and facial expressions.

The private moments between the two of you are so special.

You’re more open to affection, straddling his lap and kissing him softly with one of his hand on your waist and the other on your cheek. He’s holding you like your so fragile and cherished, afraid you’ll disappear if he let’s go.

When you both break the kiss, his lip is slightly swollen and eyes filled with so much love for you; he’ll bury his head in your neck and stay there for a while.

During a group study session at someone’s house, you barely talk, just sit close to Kenny. He casually feeds you chips, strokes your thigh, and makes excuses for you so you don’t have to answer questions.

“It’s okay babe, keep up that mewing streak.” he says smiling at you.

“shut the fuck up”

Sometimes you cry from overstimulation or pressure and don’t want to talk. Kenny sits beside you in silence, hand on your knee. He will wait patiently until you’re ready to open up and tell him what’s going on.

“I’m here, baby. You don’t gotta say anything.”

You both sit in front of your mirror doing skin care and talking in whispers. You’re way more talkative here, asking him random “what if” questions and telling silly little stories that you’ve never told anyone. Kenny’s heart is more than bursting with love and affection for you.

“I’m gonna marry you one day.

You just pause and look at him responding with a “mhm” before continuing, applying moisturizer in little dabs on his cheek, trying to avoid getting it in his nose and eyebrow piercing.

“You actually have really nice skin, i’m kinda jealous.” you say to him, still concentrated while he smiled like an idiot on drugs.

“yeah? is this your way of flirting with me pretty girl?”

His friends don’t mind that you’re quiet.

Kyle really likes the way you’re in your own world, he wishes he could drown out the sounds of Cartman’s annoying voice.

You, Stan and Craig are basically the same person.

You hate when people call you shy.

Sometimes you just don’t want to talk or just get overstimulated and shut down.

Kenny noticed when your energy is a little low and knows when to give you space to recharge.

He encourages you sometimes to speak for yourself.

He’s not always going to be your mouth piece and you know that. You never expected that from him either.

If he notices that you really aren’t confident enough to speak he does it for you while also including you in the conversation.

Despite his history of partying and sleeping around; dating you had brought out a softer side that he didn’t know he had or only really brought out around his sister.

Instead of going to parties now he would much rather be laying on your couch, with you curled up next to him with your head on his chest, while he’s stroking your hair and pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

The movie playing on the TV is long forgotten now and he’s just listening to the soft sounds of your breathing.

Instead of sleeping around now, he would be taking care of you, making you breakfast and working his ass off to take you out.

He’d prefer to just be sleeping next to you.

Hey guys. The kenny x reader fic that i’ve been working on is about a timid reader so i just used some inspo from that.

I know many people have sent me requests and i’ll try to complete them after my exams are over.

My first exam is on friday and my last one is on my birthday (June 13th) so during that time period i’ll actually be able to write.

I’ll try to release the first chapter of the Kenny x Reader soon before continuing to work on the requests. (They’re in my drafts)

Keep requesting/ feel free to ask questions.

[sirenseraph]

i have a plan for each fic to be at least 15 - 20 chapters long but obviously i’m not able to write both at the same time as well as studying. i’ve already began planning it out and writing some chapters but it all depends on which one you all prefer to be released first and the main focus.

[sirenseraph]

SIGH the a level struggle is reallllll.... Physics specifically is killing me idk what possessed me and made me take it and year 13...

yesss i swear i’m going crazy studying and finishing up other assignments

Caribbean school system (and history) is not for the weak.

mwah. ily all. keep requesting. i’ll begin releasing more stuff soon

[sirenseraph]

｡.°˚𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒯𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒮/𝒪｡.°˚

-request

Masterlist

I’m reaching for light through the struggle

Kenny figures out you’re ticklish completely by accident. You were cuddling on the couch, and his fingers brushed your side, and you twitched so hard you almost kicked him off the couch. He sat up, eyes wide, grinning like he just discovered buried treasure. “Wait… are you ticklish?” you immediately deny it. He immediately doesn’t believe you. “Oh yeah? Then you won’t mind if I do this” and he immediately starts tickling you..

Kenny’s the worst because he doesn’t even tickle you in full attacks he’ll just randomly poke or brush a finger against your side in public or during quiet moments just to watch you flinch and squeak. He lives for that tiny surprised laugh you let out every time.

He uses it to get what he wants like a little bitch. “C’mon, just give me the last slice….no? Alright.” poke. “Still no? Okay, cool, I didn’t wanna do this, but you asked for it.” And then he chases you around the room while you’re laughing too hard to fight back.

He 100% calls it “testing your reflexes” like it’s a medical procedure.

Whenever you’re laying together, Kenny sneaks little scribbles up your back or sides with feather-light fingers not enough to make you burst out laughing, just enough to make you squirm and giggle. He’ll smirk and go, “Aw, you’re so sensitive.”

He loves tickling your knees or the backs of your thighs when you’re lying on your stomach. He says it’s “accidental contact,” but he has this smug little smile that says otherwise.

If you’re mad at him or pretending to give him the silent treatment, he uses it against you. “You really not gonna talk to me? Wow. Guess I gotta resort to extreme measures.” And then it’s all over.

He has no mercy when you’re wearing a crop top or when your hoodie lifts even slightly. He uses this to his full advantage.

Once you begged him to stop mid-laugh and he immediately did pulled you into his arms, kissed your cheek, and whispered, “Okay, okay. You win. For now.” Then two minutes later, he tickled your ribs again

He sometimes rests his hand on your waist and just lets his thumb twitch knowing it’s just enough pressure to make you squirm. He doesn’t even say anything. He just watches you react with this cocky little grin.

When you’re lying in bed, Kenny’s the type to trace lazy circles over your skin and then “accidentally” brush over a ticklish spot like, “Oh, did I do that?” even though you know he mapped all your weak spots like a scientist.

He adores when you laugh uncontrollably because of him. Like, he just stares at you after, breathless and flushed from laughing, and says, “You’re so damn cute when you can’t breathe.”

He warns you before tickling you with this evil smirk. “You sure you wanna test me right now?” And if you roll your eyes or sass him, he just grins wider. “Cool. You asked for this.”

You tried tickling him back once and he didn’t even flinch. “Babe. i’m totally immune to that.” But he immediately flinched when you kissed him near his ear. Now you can use that against him.

His friends and your friends love that you’re so ticklish. Your laughter brightens up their day and they just love being around you.

[sirenseraph]

I JUST SAW THE KENNY REQUEST THAT I SENT. THANK YOU SO MUCHH IDK HOW YOU WROTE MY PERSONALITY PERFECTLY. it's kinda scary tbh lmaoo😭 BUT THANK YOUUU LOVE YOU GIRLY HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY

Masterlist

awww

all of these requests are honestly so fun yet challenging to write. literally had to ask a friend give me some ideas and i’m a literature student.

i’m also an A levels student and i picked the wrong time to start posting and taking requests since i have exams next month and i was writing exams while posting head canons which means i need to lock in but i’m so happy for all the requests sent so far. i already have them written as well as some of the chapters for my new fanfic which i will release eventually.

thank you for all the love and support im receiving

if you have any questions or requests feel free to send them. mwah ily all. stay safe, healthy and beautiful.

[sirenseraph]

⏾ ⟡ ݁₊ . 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒞𝓇𝒶𝒾𝑔 𝒯𝓊𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓇 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ⟡ ݁₊ . ⏾

Masterlist

Big Astronomy person.

His room is decorated with glow in the dark stars on the ceilings, space themed bed sheets, figurines and photos he printed off of Pinterest on his wall and his guinea pig cage in the corner with a decorative miniature version of an astronaut inside it.

After his first guinea pig died you bought him another one and he named it Stripe again with both of your last names.

Tricia is your best friend.

Sometimes you go over to Craig’s house just for her.

Loves playing dress up with you, doing each others hair, watching Barbie movies and prank calling people from your high school.

He isnt a big fan of PDA

Very touchy in private but not in public.

Not big on pet names also and will either call you “honey” or “babe”

Anything else he would rather dig his own grave.

Loves binge watching movies with you. It’s his favorite things combined; silence, the show he could watch over and over again and the girl he loves.

Has bracers and when he goes to get them tightened he’s bitching to you over text about how much it hurts and you have to go over to his house with a bucket of his favorite ice cream.

The most basic bitch ever and picks blue bands every time but smiles brightly to show it off to you as if anything has changed.

Very tall and skinny but pretty strong.

He has muscles but covers it up with that big ass hoodie that he washes once a month, only because when you cuddle him you complain that the scent of cigarettes clinging to it is getting unbearable.

He’s also very tall. Another 6’1 baddie.

He would either play football, hockey or would unironically be in theater working in the background on props just because the school told him he needed an extracurricular activity.

Would never admit it but he likes those stupid matching couples clothes. Like the hello kitty pjs, or shirts saying ‘i come in peace’ ‘i’m peace’.

Dresses up Stripe in tiny outfits that he forced you to make and now is also forcing you to fill up your phone storage with hundreds of pictures in each outfit.

Acts all nonchalant and shit in school, but when he’s home he’s latching onto you, his entire body covering yours as you lay in his bed together.

Doesn’t let you get up for anything. Not that you can anyways, he’s putting all he body weight on you making sure you stay there.

Dates with him would consist of walks on the beach, sitting in the park and having long conversations about anything and laying in his room watching the sun slowly fade and the stars on his wall start to glow their green hue.

Loves writing letters to you.

He doesn’t talk much and puts all his feelings into letters. At the end he puts ‘burn this after reading’

You never do though. You keep everything he’s given you, whether it be crafts he made himself, little doodle art he drew while bored in class of the both of you and Stripe, love letters, flowers, etc.

Doesn’t get jealous easily

He laughs whenever he seems someone flirting with you because his ego is very high and he thinks he’s better than the person who thinks they have a chance with you.

Loves to draw on his hands and yours and think ink poisoning was made up by an idiot who doesn’t have a creative bone in their body.

Everyone thinks his gang and Stan’s gang are against each other but they’re all really cool and they invite him and his friends over to smoke and play basketball .

Kenny and Craig are the ones to get the most high and then they come over to your place to crash and eat all your food .

Forced you to pierce his ears for him and makes you both match once it’s healed.

Does not comb his hair at all.

When he finally takes off that hat that he practically cannot live without; he has the shiniest, thickest most beautiful healthy pin straight black hair.

Lives for the feeling of you running your hand through his hair.It soothes him and he doesn’t even ask for it directly, just puts his head on your lap expecting you to comply and you do, every single time.

low-key don’t know how to write for Craig but i used some elements from a fanfic i’m writing which i will soft launch soon.

[sirenseraph]

omigoshhh hey girlyyy, I love your kenny headcannons 😚. if you don't mind, I like to request! can I request bubbly reader with kenny? like she's so sweet and extroverted. but she's too sweet to the point, she can't stand up for herself. so when she says to kenny, "oh btw someone bullied me." "WHAT WHO LET ME BEAT THEM" "EH NO IT'S OKAYY" "IT'S NOT???" or like someone flirted with her and she didn't know, kenny be like "I'll be right back baby." "eh whyy :(?" "nothing you need to worry about <3"

bonus if kenny loves to flirt and tease her. ANYWAY I'M SO SORRY THIS IS LONG idk how to describe requests in a short way, love youu lovelyy

୨ৎ𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓃 𝐸𝓍𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒮/𝒪୨ৎ

Masterlist

Talking was the one thing you couldn’t stop doing. Not in a bad way though, Kenny loved listening to your voice as you went on and on about your interests, staring at you lovingly while he nodded his head. He wouldn’t understand some of the stuff you were saying but he loved listening to his girl rant.

He would sit and listen to the whole lore of skibidi toilet just for you.

You got so easily flustered and he’d love how you would shy away after he made out with you, holding you so closely and carefully as if you were such a fragile and delicate thing to be cherished, and to him you were.

He loves flirting with you also, the way you reacted to the little compliments was so important to him. He wondered how you would react if he actually said all that he really meant. The unspoken words and feelings that was bursting in his heart.

You were so sweet and kind which drew a lot of attention and eventually popularity as you continued to make new friends. You didn’t care about status though, just simply loved being in your own world.

Kenny loved that you were being yourself, he would watch with a smile and an arm around your waist as you waved at everyone you knew that you passed by in the hallway practically bouncing off the floor with all your energy.

He was there like your bodyguard basically, glaring at the boys and some girls who were watching you lustily or envied your presence.

It was surprisingly very often that someone was mean to you. How could they be?

You were practically an angel on earth always smiling and so happy, so often times it didn’t register in your mind how mean someone actually was until you got a weird feeling in your stomach because of one detail in the way they spoke and an urge to go tell Kenny about the whole interaction.

Kenny wasn’t one to take any shit from anyone. He was willing to throw himself into a fight with anyone who even thought about being mean to you.

Wouldn’t waste a second and will immediately ask you a bunch of questions and details about the person and exactly what they said, then running off after kissing you on your forehead and telling you to wait here for him.

He would come back a few minutes later with bruised and bleeding knuckles which you had to help him take care of.

Other times you would get flirted with and have no idea. You just thought that the boys who came over to talk to you while you sat on the bench at the park waiting for kenny to come back; were being nice.

They were saying stuff like ‘you look really pretty in that skirt’ or ‘that shirt fits you so nicely’

Comments you would say to your friends so you thought that was their intention.

Kenny knew better however and when he came back with two ice-creams in hand and overheard what the group of boys were saying; let’s just say he ended up having to buy two more.

When you went back home that day, he was still on edge, practically more bothered than you were about the whole situation.

You- Baby it’s fine i don’t think they’ll bother me anymore

He didn’t care though, he was practically still fuming.

You ended up having him hold onto you so tightly on your bed for the rest of the night while running a hand through his hair and periodically kissing him softly to shut him up every time he tried to bring back up what happened earlier.

i hoped this was good. i’m usually very confident in my writing skills but this honestly was a challenge.

thank you for all the support so far i’m very grateful

requests are always open 🫶

[sirenseraph]

✮⋆˙𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓈𝒽 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ✮⋆˙

Dog lover for sure.

Definitely begged his mom in elementary to get a dog.

He plays the guitar and is really good at it too.

Loves writing songs and poems which he would never share with anyone because they’re too personal to him.

He doesn’t talk about his feelings a lot and would rather write them down.

^He for sure writes poems and love letters to you since he’s bad at expressing his feelings through words. You would never believe that him of all people could write something so well thought out and heartfelt.

His favorite subject in school is definitely english.

He’s not big on PDA but he doesn’t mind it

Loves holding your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulder or waist, kissing your forehead.Simple but meaningful gestures.

Also isn’t that big on pet names and just uses “babe”

Dates with him would consist of walking in the park holding hands, going to the movies, or chilling at either your house or his.

His home life also isn’t the best but he loves his mom and feels indifferent about his dad.

When they became teenagers, Shelly stopped picking on him as much and they both confide in eachother about the stupid shit that Randy does.

He posts videos of him playing the guitar (electric) on tiktok. Either original songs he wrote or a guitar version of whatever song you wanna hear; he will learn it just for you.

You love taking pictures of him and he does too. Would have a wallet sized picture of the both of you in his phone case.

He has you as his wallpaper, only posts a story on instagram if its of you, has polaroid pictures of you in his room on the wall. yeah let’s just say he loves you very much.

His mom also adores you and so does Shelly. He tries to keep you away from Randy as much as possible though.

You, him and Kyle would hang out a lot. Kenny is too much of a flirt and Cartman is a headache in the form of a human.

^ If he gets overwhelmed at home like Randy does something to really upset him and he is on edge and accidentally lashes out on you, he goes to Kyle for advice all the time on how to make it up to you.

It’s not like he doesn’t know how to deal with his problems himself but he has too much going on in his mind and is struggling to focus on the most important thing. You.

He’s really tall, about 6’0.

He would be toned. He plays football and is the team’s star quarterback which is surprising since the way he acts and his demeanor says otherwise

You make jokes all the time and quote “That’s not my name quarterback”

He drinks red bull like a mad man. You would swear that’s all he consumes but really he eats a lot and is still fit.

He loves holding you in his arms while he sleeps. Just knowing you’re there for him always and would never leave him at this moment is enough to keep his mind at ease.

He’s not an insecure person by all means but there are times where he feels that he isn’t good enough and always wants you close to him.

^With that being said he, gets jealous so easily. If he sees someone flirting with you his confidence goes up. like yeah you’re hot as shit and he pulled you, but he doesn’t want anyone else to be flirting with you.

He’s a big video game person and teaches you how to play his favorite games.

Always rolling his eyes.

Bleached his hair once and thought it looked ass so he went back to his natural colour. Made you help him through the whole process and was complaining that it was taking too long as if he didn’t put himself in that situation.

Would never admit it but he loves cuddling up to the stuffed animals in your room, holding onto them as if they’re both of your children.

[sirenseraph]

Hellooooooo :3 I was wondering what are your rules for requests? I love your HCS so far 💖

hiiii

probably no smut. i’m not against it i just can’t write it. also no touchy subjects like ED, SH, SA, any mental disorders.

thank you so much for all the support so far 🫶🫶