#glasses cartman real

[junpiejumino]

Cartman cant read bc he’s blind and dyslexic (real!!) luckily his bf is a nerd who likes to read

[kylelovskii]

the real question is Kyle more or less of a lil shit once he gets the girl? like you can't tell me that boy doesn't own a remote controlled vibe... -mk anon

this request is so old but IDC!!!!

and he does. 100%.

i wrote this half asleep so im sorry if it sucks and if there’s errors

“cmon, pretty thing. just once? i promise i won’t use it much, and if i do, i won’t turn it up so high.”

liar. fucking liar.

kyle had sweet talked you into putting a vibrator inside yourself, then going to a party with all of the guys. he promised he wouldn’t turn it on very much, he just wanted to test it out, and you believed him, which is why you let him. but you were so, so wrong.

—

there you stood, talking with wendy and bebe. everything was going perfect, and you really thought kyle had just forgotten about it, but then you felt the slightest sensation between your legs go to not so slight.

your hand flew to your mouth, which caused wendy to stop mid sentence and look at you. “hey, are you okay? you look like you’re about to be sick,” she asked. you nodded frantically. “yeah—yes! ah— i just— um..got a sharp..c—cramp in my stomach. i’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you replied before rushing off, trying not to let whines and whimpers escape from your mouth.

you rounded a corner into a hallway where, thankfully, no one was. you sighed loudly, sinking down to the floor. “oh god, kyle— stop, stop, stop…”

“what’s that? stop what?” you heard a voice come from down the hall. you snapped your head into the direction of the noise.

there kyle stood, his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants and his glasses perched upon his nose. you looked him up and down, noticing how his white wife beater hugged his waist perfectly.

“you— you said you wouldn’t do it much. and that if you did— it wouldn’t be so high!” you said, not even bothering to stand up and go to him. instead, he came to you and knelt down, taking your chin in his hand. “oh, i guess i tricked you. poor girl.”

then he grabbed your hand and pulled you up. “why don’t we go back to the party, huh? i think our friends miss us. i don’t think it would be very polite to abandon everyone just so i could toy with you,” he said as he led you back to the group he was originally with. as you walked, the vibrations slowly came to a halt. when it stopped, you sighed in relief.

kyle held your hand as he spoke with cartman, the two of them bantering while kenny and stan just listened, laughing at the smart remarks that came out of one of the others mouth. you listened as well, letting out a giggle or two, but then kyle turned the toy to its highest setting.

your knees almost buckled underneath you, and you let out an audible gasp which turned into a whine. “oh, honey, what’s the matter?” kyle asked, rushing to your aid. you gave him a look, then lied and said, “my stomach hurts, kyle.”

everyone looked at the two of you confused, but then kyle excused the both of you so he could 'help you'.

he dragged you into a bathroom, locked the door, then picked you up and set you on the counter. he forced your legs open, then moved your panties to the side to look at your glittering cunt.

your skirt bunched up at your stomach as he kneeled between your legs. he didn’t do anything, he just looked up at you and dirty talked you.

“see? look at you. you’re such a good girl, but i bet you’d rather me do this in front of all our friends. especially cartman, huh? that right, doll?” you shook your head quickly, telling him no.

“awh, baby don’t deny it. you may be a good girl for me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a little slut, right?” you shook your head again, whining and squirming, trying to close your legs. “no— nonono!”

“come on, take it for me. i know you can. be a good whore and take it. quit tryin' to close your legs,” kyle said, keeping your legs open with both his hands.

“please— i..oh god—” you groaned before your orgasm washed over you, your legs twitching and your hands flying to kyle’s hair.

as you came down from your high, you heard kyle speak, “wow that was quick. good job, baby. come on, i’ll clean you up and get that thing outta you,” he told you, helping you off the counter, then sitting you down on the toilet seat and running the water in the sink.

[julysn]

rich ceo kyle headcanons

yall i just realized none of it is nsfw why do i have 1/4 of a chopstick for a brain

fandom: south park

ship: kyle broflovski x reader

general warnings: mainly pg-13

song rec: move - taemin

other notes: you’re his secretary

a/n: im so damn SICK! so i threw in some sick y/n at the end bc why not

୨୧⋆ ˚ — y'all know those kpop fanfics where the love interest is a hot, coldhearted and media-loved ceo? that's kyle. kyle IS the hot, coldhearted and media-loved ceo.

୨୧⋆ ˚ — whenever you're late to work he makes his coffee himself and always makes sure to make u a cup

୨୧⋆ ˚ — he gets insecure before press conferences and business dinners and whatnot. he always asks you if he looks fine, if he has anything in his teeth, if his hair looks good, and if his outfit is appropriate. you always reassure him and it’s so cute ☹️💗

୨୧⋆ ˚ — whenever you walk into his office and he’s doing documents or replying to emails, he has his reading glasses on and they’re low on his nose bridge and it’s ADORABLE.

୨୧⋆ ˚ — has a mini fridge in his office and cartman always raids it when he comes to visit

୨୧⋆ ˚ — behind closed doors he’s super sweet and understanding, even though his reputation is practically the opposite

୨୧⋆ ˚ — he buys lunch for the two of you and gets you to go pick it up, and then u guys eat alone in his office. u always sit across from him but sometimes he’ll let u sit beside him

୨୧⋆ ˚ — he is lowkey SO head over heels for you. if he catches anyone making fun of u—or if you tell him that someone was, he will fire them immediately

୨୧⋆ ˚ — very rich but doesn’t really like to flaunt it. fancy suits everyday? nah he usually wears baggy jeans and oversized hoodies instead

୨୧⋆ ˚ — the office buildings of his company are always so elegant and gorgeous

୨୧⋆ ˚ — has a playful personality and teases you sometimes

୨୧⋆ ˚ — def uses cheesy pickup lines on love interests. y’all know that scene from business proposal where taemoo says “do you know what my love for you and this credit card have in common? they both have no limit.” well kyle would use that 💀

୨୧⋆ ˚ — typa guy who’ll walk into one of those luxurious coffee shops downtown with his secretary so they can work together, instead of being at the office near all of the annoying interns

୨୧⋆ ˚ — typa guy to still visit + donate to animal shelters even if he has a busy schedule

୨୧⋆ ˚ — gives you “platonic” cheek kisses whenever nobody’s around. are u in his office and he says he needs to go get some documents and talk to someone? before he leaves he’ll kiss ur cheek

୨୧⋆ ˚ — whenever you’re sick he’ll make you stay at his place until you get better.

୨୧⋆ ˚ — he works from home on the days you’re sick, so he can keep an eye on u and make sure you’re feeling well

୨୧⋆ ˚ — sick? well kyle will make u a hot bath, tuck you into bed at night, and make u homemade soup (another hc that hes real good at cooking)

[kestalsblog]

Normally I post fanfics only on Ao3, but I reeeeally wanted to get to write something Stanman for Mermay, so the below scene is Tumblr-exclusive. I haven't had much time, so this is just a quick one-shot scene featuring AU college Cartman and merman Stan. This is not a full fic I intend to develop as of right now, but just a drabble scene for fun 🧜‍♂️

Enjoy!

Part Two

TW: very slight language and mention of injuries and fear (nothing gruesome). Also this is an angsty scene

----------

When his friends told him about South Park’s latest attraction—a merman that had been captured in the Pacific and shipped to Colorado—Eric was only mildly interested. Weird, unbelievable shit happened in South Park practically every day, so a merman wasn’t exactly the thrilling spectacle everyone was making it out to be. He certainly wasn’t as entertained by the idea of visiting the dine-and-view restaurant where the merman was supposedly being kept on display as Kyle and Kenny were.

Ordering seafood in an aquarium was a revolting enough idea, but sushi with a merman a few feet away? Jesus Christ. Eric thought those steakhouses where you got to watch bulls run around while you devoured their kind was bad enough. Like, hey guess where you’ll end up if you’re not entertaining enough? That’s right! My dinner plate.

God, at least he was trying to be a better person than he used to be, and now his friends were pulling him right back into sadistic hobbies.

“I can’t believe you two are seriously interested in this,” he complained on the car ride over with Kenny and Kyle.

“Well, you have to admit, it’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime chance,” said Kyle from the passenger’s seat because of course Cartman had been relegated to the back.

“Hell, it’s a Friday night and we’re still in college. We have the rest of our lives to care about lame shit like this,” he whined. “Defend me here, Ken.”

“I gotta know if this is some kind of scam,” Kenny said, obviously more focused on the road than the conversation. “Butters went last week and said it made him feel sick.”

“It’s probably just a dude wearing a plastic tail,” said Eric.

“Or maybe his legs were cut off and it was surgically implanted onto his torso,” said Kyle with a melodramatic shudder that transformed somehow into a laugh. “Only in South Park, right?”

“Amen to that,” Kenny joined in, but Eric’s sour mood didn’t lift. Fridays were precious days, and instead of partying or doing something worthwhile, he’d be spending his evening at someone’s hoity-toity swindle. And even if it was true, and there was a real merman in South Park, what did it matter? He pressed his forehead against the chilled glass of the window and watched the streetlamps pass by his vision.

----------

The first thing Eric noticed in the restaurant was the overpowering aroma of expensive food (thank God Kyle was paying), and the second was how many children were gathered about a massive cylindrical tank in the center of the place. It wasn’t a restaurant he knew despite having lived in South Park his entire life because the establishment had been built for this purpose alone, apparently.

“I don’t see anything but water,” he said while a finely-dressed waiter led them to their table, which was an inconvenient distance from the tank.

“Me neither.” Kenny strained to the tips of his toes. “Should we go check it out closer?”

“Let’s order first,” insisted Kyle, but Eric found it difficult to focus on ordering with that large, ominous tank in his peripheral vision.

It was simply a tube constructed into the center of the restaurant that spanned from the floor to the ceiling, and though it looked massive at first glance, Eric wondered if a human-sized creature could thrive within the space. Maybe mermen were smaller? The water inside was impossibly blue, probably dyed to look more appealing. Small glittering lights were implanted throughout the inside of the tube to create a magical underwater atmosphere, but Cartman thought it felt more eerie and unnatural.

After their orders were placed, Kyle agreed they should go check out the main attraction. “There are definitely a lot of people here,” he observed as they abandoned their table to head toward the tank.

“Shit, there really is someone in there,” gasped Kenny once they were closer.

Eric’s attention went immediately toward the small children pressed against the tank. Several of them were knocking their fists hard into the glass while they chanted, “Hey, look at me! Over here, fishy! Over here!”

Fucking rude. “Where are their parents?” he muttered, but Kyle and Kenny were shoving their way past him.

“Oh my God,” he heard Kyle say through his teeth.

Unafraid to push a child out of the way, Cartman made room for himself and felt his breath halt almost painfully when he saw someone sitting slumped in the furthest corner of the tank. Because of the shape, there was nowhere the person, no, merman, could sit without someone right behind the glass, but he’d done his best to conceal himself into a small ball.

If he was just a person wearing a fake tail, he looked extraordinarily authentic. Even from where he was standing, Eric could distinguish the individual scales on the tail. The scales were all different shades of blue, with a pale, iridescent dominant hue that reminded Cartman of crystals. Under the lights, the tail twinkled like ice in sunlight. And if he looked close enough, he was certain he could see small veins pulsing in and out across the anxiously flickering tailfin.

“It can’t be real, right?” Kenny said with concern next to him, but Eric couldn’t find the voice to answer. His focus was locked on the merman who sat with his arms crossed around his abdomen and his shoulders hunched. He looked as if he was physically trying to become smaller, even though Eric was pretty sure that if he stretched out to his full height with his tail included, he’d be too large for the tight space.

He was too pretty to be real—and not just for the features that were nonhuman, but the ones that made him human as well. Black hair swirled around his ears and cheeks in soft coils like an oil spill haloing his head. Eric couldn’t catch many glimpses of his face aside from the few moments when he jolted after a particularly loud knock on the tank. Only then would he look up with wide, alarmed eyes that were a devastatingly gorgeous shade of blue that Eric had never seen on anyone else.

“This doesn’t seem right, what they’re doing to him,” piped up Kyle, and Eric recognized the heat behind his tone. For once, Eric had to agree with him. The merman was clearly terrified, his pupils shrinking and then expanding again with each flash of a camera against the glass. His chest expanded and contracted with the movement, and Cartman didn’t miss the widening of what appeared to be openings on his skin, surely gills, across his throat.

“Hey, guys, our food is probably coming soon,” Kenny said with dampened spirit. Eric hadn’t even realized how long they’d been standing and staring.

“I’m going to talk to the manager of this place after we eat,” snapped Kyle. “If I hadn’t already paid, I wouldn’t be giving my money to these freaks.”

“You’re the ones who wanted to see this,” Eric reminded them, but they didn’t seem to hear him as they went back to the table in their own storm cloud of negative thoughts.

But Eric couldn’t make himself go back to eat dinner, which was a surprise even to him, considering food was usually his go-to for fighting off the terrible gnawing feeling he was experiencing right now. All he could do was stay in place and watch the beautiful merman thump his tailfin uselessly against the bottom of the tank again and again. The sight reminded of him of some poor traumatized dog who’d been kept in the puppy mill for too long.

“Fishy! Look, look!” the kid next to Eric shouted, smacking so hard on the glass that the merman jerked and actually placed his hands over his ears. His eyes spasmed wide and then squeezed shut in an obvious pain response. The arm movement revealed delicate, blue webbing between fin-like structures on either side of his wrists. Eric was certain he’d never seen a prettier creature in his life.

He glared at the child. “Hey, knock it off. Can’t you see you’re bothering him?” he snapped, not caring if he upset some snot-nosed punk kid.

“You’re no fun,” pouted the kid before sulking off and giving Cartman better access to view the merman. When Eric moved closer, the merman slowly reopened his eyes and gave him a quick, panicked look before shrinking deeper onto the floor again. The sight of him twining his tail around himself with desperate fear sent shards through Eric’s heart, especially when he considered that holding someone like this hostage for money was exactly something he would have done when he was younger.

Now, though, when he looked closer and saw the bright pink lacerations across the merman’s tail, he felt more than sick to his stomach. The wounds were clearly fresh and extended all the way to his tailfin, where some of the fine partitions were shredded completely. Eric must have been initially too hypnotized by the merman’s beauty to notice the injuries, probably a byproduct of his capture.

“Cartman!” Kyle’s voice broke over the chitter chatter surrounding him. “Get back over here, dude. Management sucks and won’t listen to me.”

He knew he had to go back, but walking away from the merman was difficult. When those sea-colored eyes, framed with long, feathery lashes, finally shuddered back to meet his, Eric froze all over again.

The merman’s face was a little too narrow and pallid, he thought, despite the small shimmers of silvery blue smeared across random patches of his skin like makeup. His hair was so dark in contrast to his skin that it truly resembled black water mingling with that abnormal blue dye.

The merman looked so beautiful and sad, and it made Eric even sadder to think he probably wouldn’t feel this sorry for him if he weren’t so beautiful and didn’t look so human. A few hours ago, he hadn’t given two shits, but now that the merman was watching him with terrible resignation while dozens of camera flashes bounced off the tank’s glass, he cared. He cared a lot.

It took every ounce of willpower to turn from the merman’s pale, hopeless face, and go back to Kyle and Kenny then, and even then, he paused to look back. The merman was in the same position, but still looking at him too.

(South Park and its characters obviously do not belong to me. Creators are Trey Parker and Matt Stone. This is intended for fun use only, not monetary.)

[stardust-sunset]

I saw that you are still taking requests sooo begging on my knees for Stan or Kyle (whichever one you prefer/want to write abt) x t!reader. I’m so touch starved so anything with physical affection would be perfect I just need some type of comfort rn hhhh. If you don’t want to write this that’s okay I completely understand!! (^_^)

Ask and you shall receive!

I’ll do both

Stan and Kyle with a TINY!S/O

Stan Marsh

He’s honestly very gentle with you

He doesn’t wanna go around and show you off, he kinda just wants you to be safe with him

Because he knows with Shelley and Randy around you probably won’t be safe

But anyway

He probably found you in Shelley’s room tbh

You were borrowing some of her stuff and Stan walked in on you

Randy ended up seeing you too, so Stan kinda just hid you behind his back and managed to get out

Randy thought Stan was stealing Shelley’s old dolls

At first he was absolutely flabbergasted

He probably just came home one day to find Sparky chasing you around

So he ended up picking you up with a single hand and kinda just took you to his room?

He’s like, twenty times your height

So seeing his eyes that were basically the size of your head looking down at you was…scary

At first he didn’t even think you were real

Hr probably just kept telling himself it was Randy’s pot farm, or that he was imagining shit

But eventually, he came to terms that you were real

And soon you grow to develop feelings for each other

He makes sure that you’re safe all the time

He probably throws up on you a lot but he tries not to

Hr gives you a bath after so don’t worry

If he finds you crying, he kinda just picks you up in his palms and holds you gently

The only one who knows about you is Kyle

Probably because one day he walked in on Stan cleaning you off after vomiting on you due to his crush on you

But Stan made him swear to not tell anyone

He doesn’t let you sleep in the bed with him because he’s scared he’ll roll over in his sleep and crush you

But sometimes he’ll put you on his chest over his heartbeat until you fall asleep, to which he’ll probably put you in a little washcloth burrito

Overall v good :)

Kyle Broflovski

He probably found you in Cartman’s bourse

(just pretend you were a borrower at his house)

So one day, while you were ‘borrowing’, Kyle happened to walk in on you

At the same time Cartman did

Kyle dashed for you so Cartman wouldn’t get to you because who knew the tortures you would endure with him

Kyle insisted you were just a bug, so hr kinda managed to get away with you while stuffing you in a jar

And when he managed to get back to his house, he realized being stuck in a jar with a giant person looking at you through the glass couldn’t have been pleasant

So he began working at making you a living space

He honestly isn’t shocked by you

Hes seen some shit in South Park

So, he probably interrogated you while making you a matchbox bed or something

And eventually he decides to keep you in his house

He’s very gentle with you

And protective

Like if anyone so much as touches you he’s about to beat the shit out of them

He, like Stan, doesn’t let you sleep in the same bed as him

But he’ll stroke your hair sometimes when you’re falling asleep

He probably scares you sometimes with his angry outbursts

But in the end he’ll make up for it in hugs and such

(he’s not much of a kisser)

Hes a sweet kid, but he’s just very angry, lol

[cenotune]

South Park AU but it’s just the North Hollywood shootout and I assign the boys to real people who were at the event (disclaimer that only the shooters died, and only the truck driver and cops were injured)

Cartman as Larry Phillips Jr

Butters as Emil Mǎtǎsǎreanu

Kyle as the truck driver who got a face full of glass

Tweek as “HELLO 911 THERES A MADMAN AT MY DOOR AND HES GOT A FACE FULL OF GLASS”

List goes on, it’s an elaborate tale

[hatsunevitu]

and during the rest i’ve been thinking about the difference between kyman and stanman a lot

like, we all know how kyle would be pretty insistent on the whole “changing cartman for the better” thing, cuz he’d think it’s his moral obligation and he’s not the type to just suddenly tolerate some traits he strongly dislikes in others

and what’s most important, he doesn’t see cartman through rose-colored glasses, he just, well… sees real cartman and doesn’t make excuses for his terrible actions, and he accepts the fact that, yes, it’s cartman, he has his flaws (like. lots of them) and he might hate those traits but he loves cartman in general with all his difficulties and “disadvantages”.

AND THEN there’s stanman where once stan falls in love he starts to kinda idealise cartman? he pretends he doesn’t see his “bad” sides anymore, and he doesn’t really try to change cartman, even when some things eric does make him uncomfortable.

and then. keep this all in mind and. imagine styleman. where stan and kyle have fights over this like every week.

kyle: We can’t tolerate this kind of behaviour, Stan, he destructs people around him, us, and most of all – himself!

stan: I don’t wanna change Cartman, dude, i like him the way he is!

kyle: That’s stupid, you have to think logically!!

stan: That’s what love is about, Kyle. You don’t just change a person if you dislike something about them. Not like you would know that, of course.

also, during their relationship cartman sees style comforting each other as he realises romance can be not only about getting on each other’s nerves and constantly fighting but like?? actual support?? caring attitude?? help?? acceptance?? and he goes like W O W

[bloogers-boogers]

Kyle getting real close to Cartman (who starts to blush) only to then fog up his glasses on purpose

He Just loves bullying the four-eyes ❤️

This is literally how Kyle be in the fic I'm writing 😩😩😭😭

[southieparkie]

Okay, I've seen this discourse going around on my dash because a few of my mutuals have expressed their takes. At first I was going to just. Side eye. And leave it at that. But I actually wanna talk about it real quick.

It doesn’t really matter if Cartman is the star of the show or if he’s the show’s backbone, people are not crazy lunatics for disliking him. A character’s role in a show shouldn’t have to be what dictates whether or not it’s okay for the fandom to hate them. That’s just silly. Let’s use the Winx Club, for example. I’ve seen people say that they hate Bloom, the main character in the show. Without Bloom, there would be no Winx Club. I was shocked by this at first because, hey! She’s Bloom! But it didn’t really hurt me or upset me because, while I personally like Bloom, I’m aware that there are people out there who don’t. That’s fine, preferences exist. I’ll live, and so will they.

Another really popular example that I’ve seen lately is Marinette from Miraculous Ladybug. This one did kinda hurt me a little, only because I really liked her and even saw bits and pieces of herself in me. The most recent ML season, from what I’ve seen and heard, has pretty much Mary Sue’d her in terms of accountability and clumsiness. Hey, shit happens. Although it’s sad that the fandom no longer likes my favorite character, I’m not going to wiggle my finger at whoever posts about how they’re disappointed that Marinette’s character has changed so drastically, and I’m especially not going to justify my finger-wiggling by saying that she’s the Star of the Show and therefore void of criticism. Or just. Immune to the fandom not liking her ass.

I’ve met people who even hate Spongebob. Spongebob Motherfucking Squarepants. Without him, there would be no show! But even then, it’s valid if the little guy annoys you.

All of this can be said about Cartman. I’m personally one of the ones who just flat out doesn’t care about him. I generally don’t feel the need to, like, analyze his character and look into why he does what he does. Not because I won’t benefit from it, I most likely will, but because I simply don’t want to. Drinking a tall glass of lemonade would be more refreshing than studying whatever the hell Cartman has got going on, I’ll tell ya that right now.

So yeah, people can dislike Cartman for whatever reason they feel. One of the most popular reasons being that he’s a shitty person. While I’d argue that this is par for the course considering the overall offensive rhetoric a show like South Park seems to present, you have to admit that the guy can take shit to another level. Also, I hate it when people fire back against that argument by saying “Well, all of the other characters are shitty human beings too!” because, yeah, you’re absolutely right, but I don’t recall Stan starting a Nazi Revolution in honor of one of the most evil human beings of all mankind. I don’t recall Kenny killing an innocent man and forcing a boy to eat Chili made out of his own cooked flesh. It doesn’t matter how you slice it, none of these characters hold a single candle to the amount of terrible shit Cartman has said and done, most of which he doesn’t even feel sorry for.

Even with the shit that the other characters do, they’re easily forgettable moments because the moments are few and far between, a refresher to remind the audience that these characters are in no way completely innocent. With Cartman, being a piece of shit is, like, central to every episode he’s in. Like, damn bitch, almost every episode you’re on some next level shit lmao.

I’d also like to address how fatphobia has come into play here. I mean, sure, yeah, things like fatphobia can and do stand as factors for why people don’t like characters, most likely internalized rather than intentional. And not to dismiss genuine fatphobia in the fandom, because I do believe that it’s there, I truly do not believe that that is a driving factor for the fans disliking Cartman. Like, c’mon. There’s a whole bunch of other shit here, I think his weight is the least of our worries.

Also in terms of shipping I think fans don’t like to ship Cartman with anyone because of the canonical event of Cartman actually getting a girlfriend. He was a manipulative asshole, we all saw it. Even before he and Heidi got together, the way he treats his friends and family is evidence enough. Idk. I don’t think he’d be any different while being romantically involved with any other member of the cast, which is why any ship involving him is, in my opinion, questionable at best and outright anti-semetic at worst (wink wink nudge nudge)

Anyway uhhh take this post with a grain of salt lol. If you like him, great! Just, y’know, don’t shame others for not liking him just because he’s the reason why South Park has it’s fame. Doesn’t matter, ppl are allowed to not like characters.

[vic-chaos]

OH GOD OKAYYYYY I’ve actually watched it now (I haven’t been online yet to see what anyone else is saying though, I’ll be interested to see theories....) let me formulate some thoughts now that I actually can sjdhfbsjfsfd

First of all Cartman:

Alright but actually sjfhgbsdjgfhbsdjghsdfg it was horrible, truly.......... but there is a saving grace bc I think Kyle is 100% right and he did all of this just to fuck with him + because he’s obsessed with him lmao 😭 (and its just like with jennifer lopez when nobody believed him that Cartman would spend that much time/go to such lengths just to fuck with people and he was right then too). There’s also a LOT about Cartman and his family that’s super off and telling, his wife’s and kid’s names etc.

Me rn grasping at kyman’s feet like I never thought I’d say this but you saved my fucking life JSHDBJDVDSF 😭 thank fucking god, okay *pulls my head out of the river I was drowning myself in* its fine we’re gonna be fine, its fine.

I will also just add that I’m happy he was still fat even though he looked really bad otherwise. Oh and I do think its cute he has glasses (but they could have been like..... a less unflattering fit as well!!?? help shdbsdhfbs)

There’s also a lot about this future that’s weirdly off, which is kind of interesting? It’s also clearly meant to be terrible, and that does kind of comfort me because everyone is so fucked up, I’m glad this is a worst case scenario type deal and one that will be erased when they fix the past.

Stan is in such bad shape too....... I hate that he basically turned into his dad and is still an alcoholic, plus what happened with Shelly and Sharon!!?!? This is such a horrible outcome for him I’m so glad it won’t be his real future 😭 Token joining the police after they racially profiled and shot him as a kid, worst outcome for him..... and Clyde being an antivaxxer jdsfsbfsbdfsdf everything about this future was so evil 😭

(Also what was up with just some people randomly having those round things on their heads LMAO........)

But okay onto the good things:

I’m in love with Kenny... I’m obsessed with him bgsbdfbsbsdfb he was SO good 😭 the beard and the tummy and the shirt LMAO.... the women in bikinis in the pool with him (and a millionaire omg!!!) plus his voice always being muffled or cut off was funny. And him calling out the others on their past behaviour.... It was perfect really, he was the best thing about the whole special.

There were a few things that did make me laugh really loud and the old person on the loose sign gjsjfhsdhshdshds

I feel like I was right about the Randy redemption stuff, and also that they will be time travelling back to stop the broship from ever breaking up. I’m so desperate for them to reconcile their friendship and just be together again..... please...... 🥺

Last of all I am of course going to be going insane until we get to see Butters.... I’m SO curious about wtf happened to him (and also what he looks like, though my expectations are now VERY low, with what they did to my boy 😭) I am loving the chaos angle though. I can’t believe it ended on a cliffhanger and now we have to wait fuck knows how long *SOBS*

[south-park-meta]

Brontide – The low rumbling of distant thunder. stanman

Kind of one-sided Stanman (or at least Stan being nervous about Cartman's intentions) and Style.

General psych horror warning I guess in that I find Cartman to be physically/psychologically/sexually abusive and it causes fear but he doesn't do anything he hasn't done in canon.

[Stan saw once on those court shows, like Judge Judy or something, that a guy ended up winning possession of part of his neighbor's property because he put in a new fence three feet left of the old one, and the neighbor let it go for too many years before complaining that it was on his land. He's letting Cartman redraw his property lines, giving himself up three feet at a time. "Just go to sleep," he says to Cartman in the dark. They're sharing a blanket and he thinks of ripping it off of Cartman and rolling up in it, just to stake a claim in what's his.

He doesn't.]

Cartman does this thing, pushing boundaries. He pokes and prods at them. He figures out which ones are fences made of steel and which are those paper ropes; ceremonial and easily snipped with scissors. He started inviting himself over at ten when things started going sideways in their group. He invited himself over to Kyle's, too. Cartman kept them apart, enjoyed their time all to himself, all while saying how important it was to keep the group together. How terrible it is that the broship is splitting up, Cartman would lament, shoving Cheesy Poofs into his mouth, before telling Stan how much fun he and Kyle had playing a game on their new X-Boxes.

Divide and conquer.

After the four of them tied themselves back together, Cartman started doing it again. He got better at it, cornering them each alone. He's good at it now at sixteen years old. It's strange, knowing so well what Cartman's doing this time around, but it's still somehow hard to stop it. Cartman forced a place for himself in their lives once and it's easier for him to find that place now because of it; he walked the path so many times that his feet can find it even in the dark.

It's just lucky that Stan and Kyle have gotten better at navigating, too. They aren't tripped up so often anymore.

Cartman realized when the Jeffersons were their neighbors for a couple weeks that sleepiness is a weakness to be exploited. He crawls in through Stan's bedroom window in the middle of the night and right in bed beside him. Stan wakes up and startles.

"Dude, get the fuck out of my bed," Stan says. "You're wet."

That's the reason he gives. Not that Cartman came in without asking, that he broke into the house in the middle of the night, that Stan doesn't want him there at all. The thunder rolls outside. He's making the bed cold, uncomfortable.

They look at each other in the dark. Lightning cracks close outside the window and brights the room, and Stan's breath catches. He gets the idea, that half-second of being able to see Cartman's eyes clear as day, that Cartman will suggest taking his clothes off and laying together, dry.

"Forget it," Stan says quickly, before Cartman can say anything. Just in case, so he knows Cartman will be keeping the clothes even if he's giving up the bed. He turns over, turns away. He knows he shouldn't. Not because the actual act of turning his back on Cartman is letting himself be weak, though it is; being stabbed in the back is more of a betrayal because you can't see it coming. He's aware of the vulnerability but not exactly afraid to give it. Cartman's never hurt him before. He sort of thinks Cartman won't ever try to because he's him and Cartman's Cartman and something about those two facts prevents it, and he sort of thinks he just hasn't ever given Cartman a good enough opening to take.

It's because turning over, letting this stand, is saying it's allowable. Still allowable. He let Cartman get away with sneaking into his house as kids plenty of times despite never wanting him there.

Stan saw once on those court shows, like Judge Judy or something, that a guy ended up winning possession of part of his neighbor's property because he put in a new fence three feet left of the old one, and the neighbor let it go for too many years before complaining that it was on his land. He's letting Cartman redraw his property lines, giving himself up three feet at a time. "Just go to sleep," he says to Cartman in the dark. They're sharing a blanket and he thinks of ripping it off of Cartman and rolling up in it, just to stake a claim in what's his.

He doesn't.

He doesn't shut his eyes right away. He stares at the wall and listens to the thunder. He feels the house quiver with it. He's waiting for something, but he's not sure what that something is. There's a creeping fear, but he's not sure what he has to be afraid of. Other people have reason to be scared of Cartman, because he's actually done something to them somehow. From other people, Cartman has fed off of their humiliation, over dominating them or belittling them. All Cartman's ever taken from Stan before, really, is a physical presence.

Closer and closer.

Here's the lion, knocking at your legs, trying to cut you off from your herd. Better keep up.

Don't be divided, don't be conquered.

Stan rolls back over. He has to because Cartman's in the way of his night stand. Cartman hasn't closed his eyes, either, and they stare at each other up close and personal. Stan lifts himself onto his elbow and leans over Cartman to grab his phone.

Cartman grabs his wrist and says, "Using your phone in bed is bad for your eyes," with a funny kind of smirk. Stan got his first pair of glasses this month. They look at each other for a moment longer, and then Cartman lets him go.

Can I come over? he texts Kyle, I miss you

If they were still neighbors he wouldn't have asked, but it's not a two-minute walk anymore. It's something he needs to drive to now, in the cold and rain and dark. He holds his breath. They've changed notifications and turn them on high at night, so they can wake each other if they need to. But it's no guarantee.

A few beats.

You saw me all day.

He can read the tone. It's not putting him off; it's teasing him, and he makes himself not-smile so Cartman can't catch this weakness. He and Kyle have been shifting their boundaries, too. It's nothing yet, undefinable but different than it had been before.

So? I miss you anyway

Yeah. Come over.

He has to swing over Cartman to get up. Cartman doesn't do anything with that fact besides quirk his eyebrows. No funny comment, no stopping him, no....whatever. He doesn't try anything in those last moments where he could, at the time that would be the worst. It's not that Stan wishes he would, but it's easier to draw hard boundaries with Cartman when he does something really awful. those moments that are 'Enough is Enough' moments, the ones that could do him real harm. There's been a few of those moments through the years, where he can see that what Cartman's going to do might really, irrecoverably hurt him and he clamps down on it hard to stop it. He ends their friendship clean and fast.

And then he lets it creep back up on him, because he's never been hurt by Cartman, not really. Maybe it'd be better if Cartman does hurt him, for real, just once. So he has the pain for reference and knows why he doesn't want to do it all again. So he has the reality instead of the possibility.

But maybe that's why Cartman's never really hurt him, and maybe he never really will.

He walks out, leaving Cartman alone in his room. It feels like a loss, because he's not sure at all what Cartman wanted, and he let Cartman have free rein over all of his things. But he wakes up with Kyle's arms around his waist and face pressed between his shoulder blades, and that feels like a victory.

[friendlyfrat-boy]

Kyle Dies Chapter 4

Sugar? Sugar!

TW - Major character death, gore.

Characters: Stan Marsh, Butters/Victor Chaos, Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, etc.

Summary:

He was supposed to be saved. Stan was supposed to stop  Clyde and everything would have gone back to the way it was always  supposed to be. But reality was a cruel mistress, and with the twitch of  a finger, everything ended.

With Stan still in the past, a  paradox in time was created, forcing him to merge with his younger self  in order to continue existing. But the cost was steep, and he wakes up  forty years in the future, in a place that no longer resembles anything  he has ever known. Faced with a world that could best be described as a  dystopia, Stan has no choice but to attempt to return to the past once  more in order to set things right, once and for all. But with Kenny on  the run from a fascistic theocracy led by guess-who, he has no choice  but to become a fugitive to avoid those he used to call his friends. At  his side, his only real ally appears to be a certain Butters who can't  make up his mind on who he's supposed to be.

Will they ever  succeed in making the world right again, or should they just give up,  even if it means dooming everything and everyone they once held dear?

“Yeah, I’d like a kosher burger with some kosher fries, and then a glass of kosher milk with it. And-, and can we get some desserts? Yea? Okay, okay, ummm…” Butters squinted hard at the menu in his hands, poking his tongue out thoughtfully. “...Ice cream? Kosher ice cream? Y-, yeah, two of those! You want one, right Stan?”

 Absently, Stan nodded back at him. “Sure.”

 The waitress at their side nervously scribbled down their orders, her eyes constantly glancing at Butters. “Will that be all, sirs?” Something in her voice made it very clear that she had many questions to ask.

 “Yeah,” Stan replied. “Thank you.”

 She gave a curt bow and then disappeared. Stan watched her as she went. Who designed that uniform? Not only was the shirt just on the edge of bursting open, but the skirt was both way too tight and way too short to possibly be comfortable. It wasnät like the restaurant was of that sort either. There were plenty of kids and families, even including a small play area for children. 

 Hell, if Stan just focused a little on one of the many fathers, it was clear that they weren’t paying attention to the waitresses. Their attention was placed firmly on the food. 

 Chastity. What a strange thing. 

 Following that line of thought, could it be that the waitresses were purposefully dressed seductively, all in order to test the patrons?

 …No, that couldn’t be it. It was much more likely that it was just an ineffective marketing scheme that had fallen flat but they couldn’t afford or bother to change the outfits. 

 “Can you believe it, Stan? She didn’t recognize me at all! Oh boy, I can’t wait for that burger. Last time I had me a good burger was back when I was a kid. Same with ice cream, now that I think about it. An’ also milk. Man, there sure are a lot of things I haven’t tried in a while, huh?”

 Stan couldn’t bring himself to tell Butters that she had probably recognized him but chosen not to say anything out of fear. Butters was, by all means, one of the most recognizable faces around, and not because he didn’t look somewhat plain (characteristic scar barred), but rather because his face was plastered on almost every building in the city. Whether it be proverbs, quotes or calls to join the military, he was practically everywhere. Removing his uniform had done a lot to change his aura of authority, but it didn’t change his face in the least.

 “Yeah, I guess so.” Stan glanced at the nearby tables. People were chatting and talking relatively pleasantly, only stopping to look nervously at Butters. By the looks of it, nobody dared pay too much attention to them. “Okay, listen. Before we do anything else, I need you to tell me where Kenny is.”

 “Kenny?”

 “Kenny’s the one who invented the time machine that sent me back in time to begin with. I was going to save Kyle, but…” Stan shook his head. “It isn’t important. What is important is that we find Kenny again. He-, he doesn’t work for Cartman, does he?...”

 Butters smiled sheepishly and waved his hand. “Nah, Kenny left ages ago. After Kyle died, Kenny went away pretty quickly. I think I remember he went to Nebraska or something? Once Eric heard about it he went to go fetch him, but Kenny didn’t like what Eric was doin’, so he left for Canada. But that was loads of years ago, yanno?” 

 “Do you know where he is now?”

 Butters pulled his lips tight. Right as he was about to say something, the waitress arrived to place their drinks on the table. “Oh, thank ya.” Carefully, he sipped his milk before looking back up at Stan. “I think I do, yeah. But Eric doesn’t. Cuz, like I said, Kenny didn’t like, well, any of this, but he left me a lil’ note on the promise that I don’t show anybody else. I wasn’t even supposed to tell anyone else, but I don’t think you count, right?”

 “Of course I don’t, I’m his friend!” Stan said with as much conviction as he could muster. 

 Again, Butters smiled at him. “Well, gee, that’s good to hear. It’s kinda hard to trust people nowadays, but you’re real neat, Stan.” Still smiling to himself, Butters grabbed the knife he’d been given. Then, while Stan stared at him, he began poking around the upper part of his right arm, until he arbitrarily chose a spot and stabbed himself. 

 Before Stan could tell Butters to stop, the man had cut through his own skin, placed his knife to the side, and then began digging through the hole. “Let’s see here, I remember putting it… Ah, there it is!”

 He pulled out a small, blood-stained plastic bag, barely bigger than a matchbook. 

 “God fucking damnit Butters, what the hell are you-,”

 Carefully, Butters opened the small bag and removed a little piece of paper from within. “Here ya go! Now, you’d better make sure not to get that revealed to any-,”

 Stan grabbed Butters’ arm and pressed a napkin against the bleeding wound. “Fucking hell Butters, why would you do that?! Waitress? Waitress!” A curly-haired waitress turned to them with harelike eyes. “Yeah, you. Go get us some bandages, will you?”

 Grumbling, Stan turned back to Butters, who watched him owlishly. “What is it, Butters?”

 “No, I just…” Butters glanced off.

 Well, that wasn’t an answer. Damn Butters. Couldn’t he just keep his all-important notes in like a normal bag or something? Did he really have to be so dramatic?

 After less than a minute, the waitress returned with a small first-aid kit in hand. Stan took it from her and fixed up Butters. Sure, it was only skin-deep, but even such a small wound could easily become infected under the right conditions. Considering that he had cut himself with a fucking restaurant knife, there could really be anything in there. 

 By the time he had finished with the wound, the food had arrived. 

 They dug in.

 And it was…

 “What the fuck? How is this so good?!” Stan exclaimed. Sure, he hadn’t had anything to eat in several days, but that didn’t explain how tasty this damn food was. Glancing up, he found  Butters in the throes of a similar delight, eating his burger sloppily with both hands. He grinned broadly at him. 

 “Yeah! Eric set really high standards for food cuz he likes it so much. I remember him telling me once that he’d like to be able to enter any restaurant in the country and exit with a smile on his face. Though, he hasn’t left his house in like thirty years, so I don’t think he really cared about it all that much.”

 Stan scoffed. “That’s two good things about this future, then.”

 Butters stared at him strangely. “Well, that’s kind of harsh, Stan.”

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 “It’s just that, well, things aren’t all bad, you know? And it’s not like I’m just saying it ‘cuz I’ve been in charge of a little too much ‘round here, but sustaining authority over an entire country needs a bit more than just threats and murder. Like-, well, we haven’t been in those parts of town, but poverty is next-to erased cuz it isn’t very profitable in the long run. People work better and harder if they’re happy and healthy. It also makes our occupation seem cooler to surrounding countries.”

 For some reason, Stan wanted to disagree with him. The proxy-leader of a fascistic empire was eating burgers and trying to convince him that it wasn’t all bad, and yet, Stan found himself unable to muster any words. 

 “There’s also very little criminality,” Butters said with a resolute nod. “Ah, well, I mean, there kinda is, but it’s all state-regulated, you know? Like, if someone’s gonna die, we decide who and how.” His eyebrows squished together. “Gee, that didn’t sound all that nice… B-, but it’s true! Drugs are also legal for the most part, though they’re as heavily regulated as any other addictive substances.” A strange smile found itself onto his lips. “See? It isn’t all that bad!”

 Stan turned away. Over by the play area, kids jumped over each other, running up and down stairs and tumbling down slides. 

 “I’ve only been here for like a day, Butters. I don’t know all that much, but can you really say this is a good future considering what happened to South Park?” Finding his footing, Stan puffed out his chest. “And what about that war, huh? There was nothing like that in my timeline. Sure, things might look a bit nice on the surface, but who’s to tell what’s going on beneath it all? How many people a year are quieted, all to ensure the ‘safety’ of the country? How about corporal punishments? Conscriptions?”

 “There are faults to every country-,”

 “Sure, but at least they accept that they do have them,” Stan argued hotly. “What about this place? Can you give one real critique of its actions? What about its laws? Think about the wars you’re currently entrapped in and tell me they aren’t a waste of time.”

 “It’s a very complex issue-,”

 “Then make it simple!” Stan cried. “Aren’t you supposed to know all about these kinds of things? About all the armies and what good comes from the wars?” A fire churned in the pit of his stomach. “Tell me, Butters, how many years have you been in a state of war so far? How many battles have you won or lost?” He glared at Butters. “How many good men have you lost so far?”

 Butters faced him bravely. “The war has been going on in greater or lesser forms for twenty-two years, ever since public unrest grew too great to ignore. In order to handle them, Eric made the decision to avert attention. We had intended to wait a little longer, but there really was no choice. Since then, we have directly waged battle in seven countries, including France, Germany, Canada-,”

 “Q-, quiet!” Stan said. “Just-, just be quiet, okay?” Butter’s jaw clamped shut. “You… ‘had no choice’?”

 With sudden uncertainty, Butters nodded. “Y-, yes, that’s right.”

 “You’re telling me there was no fucking way you could just step down and let the country govern itself again? You’d rather send soldiers to die in some stupid diversion-tactic than let the people exercise their right to choose their leader?”

 Again, Butters nodded. But a thought clearly passed through him. “Well, the war really isn’t too bad.”

 Stan could feel the sweltering fire in his stomach bristle. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

 “Most of them weren’t Jewish.” The way Butters said it, with such complete, total apathy made the fire in Stan’s chest lurch painfully. “Eric was really quite clever about it, cuz we had this huge population of really stalwart Christians and agnostics and atheists and all that, so he made the neat little choice that those people would get shipped off first. If you were a real honest believer of the true faith, or if you had some other family situation to handle, you’d get a pass. But not the non-Jewish. It’s almost a little funny, cuz we make this whole game about how we’re getting back at Germany, but at the same time, most people on the front really don’t wanna be there.”

 Stan watched Butters for a few seconds, feeling how the heat in him gently died. Faced with a moment of silence, Butters continued.

 “Yeah, that’s also a funny thing, cuz Eric didn’t like how I was acting at first, he said I was ‘way too fucking toasty,’ so he sent me off to the front lines. We were kinda currying up favours with Israel there at the beginning, so I helped around with subjugating Palestine once and for all. I really wanted to go home after that, but Eric told me I could only get home once I ‘achieved some authoritah’, so I worked my damn hardest at getting it. It took a couple ‘o years, but here I am!”

 Stan swallowed dryly. He took a sip of his drink. “That’s great, Butters.”

 An awkward silence fell over the table as neither of them could bring themselves to say anything else.

 In the heat of a dark fire, Stan asked, “Tell me, Butters, if this place is so cool and awesome, how come you’re helping me at all?”

 “Didn’t I tell ya? I owe you one for getting me ungrounded,” Butters stated simply.

 “Yeah, I heard you.” He spoke as though possessed - as though he wasn’t confronting his only ally in the world. “But how can I even know if that’s true? You changed awfully quickly, even for you. With your background, how can I know you’re not fooling me by pretending to be Butters in order to make me drop my guard and tell me all my plans and secrets? How can I know you’re Butters and not Victor Chaos?”

 Butters stared at him with a black, soulless gaze, and for once, his right eye was as dead as his left one was. “I guess you just can’t, huh?” 

 A shiver tore across Stan’s back. 

 And then the waitress arrived with a plate full of ice cream and Butters’ face lit up in such unbridled, childish glee that all tension just melted. If you simply looked at what information Stan knew about Victor, there was no chance in hell that such a fascistic war-veteran could possibly act at being Butters. When it came to Butters, there was no pretending. 

 Butters shoved a large spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and squealed in joy. Stan gently face-palmed at his previous thoughts. 

 “...You don’t mind if I’ve committed a few war crimes, do you?” Butters asked through a mouthful of ice cream and chocolate sauce.

 Stan’s mind went blank. “...Excuse me?”

 “Yeah, I’m not sure why or how, but anytime I shoot somebody, no matter where I aim, I always hit them in the weenie. That wasn’t really a crime in and of itself, but a few years before the war started, Eric went out of the way to make it a war crime to shoot people directly in the willie. I’m not really sure why he did that - d’ya think he’s ever been shot in the weewee?”

 Slowly, carefully, with utmost methodology, Stan took a sip of his drink. It was all he could do to keep himself from showing his emotions violently. “Listen, Butters, no matter what you’ve done, it’ll all get erased when we’re done anyways. It’s okay. Just… Just try not to do it again, alright?”

 Butters practically lit up. “Wowee, thanks, Stan! I was kinda worried about the destruction of Christian and Islamic holy houses using modern napalm, but it’s neat to hear you’re so open-minded. In war times, do as the warrers do, right?”

 “Yeah, of course, Butters.” Stan silently got back to eating the ice cream, chanting in his mind that it didn’t matter since this future would anyways be changed.

 …But what if it didn’t change? What if the Kenny of this world had never made a time machine or Cartman found them first? If the latter happened, Stan seriously doubted he’d get off on account of sentimentality. More likely, Cartman would demand whatever he wanted from him and he wouldn’t have any choice but to give it. And Butters…

 The man in front of Stan happily licked his plate clean.

 -Butters was, despite everything, just a man. 

 They could probably get to Kenny somehow, but even then there was a chance that he wouldn’t even help them, or he might already be dead.

 Sighing, Stan let his gaze fall to the table, where he once again noticed the little note Butters had kept within his arm. He’d forgotten all about it, hadn’t he? Well, no time like the present. Stan reached out and grabbed it. But right as he was about to unfold it, he noticed Butters looking forlornly at Stan’s almost-full plate of ice cream. Wordlessly, Stan slid it over to him. 

 As the other man went at the ice cream with the vigour of a sugar-frenzied kid, Stan unfolded the small note.

 ‘Going to Canada. Dn’t tell Cartman. Fatass’ gonna have me killed. Come if you wanna do good.

PS, be nice to Stan

-Kenny’

 Stan glanced across the table. Be nice to Stan, yeah, alright.

 Turning over the note, Stan found an address to somewhere - hopefully where Kenny was staying. But it really was just as Butters had said. Kenny had, for apparently no specific reason, gone to Canada of all places. 

 “Hey, Butters?”

 Butters looked up from where he was gorging himself on way too much ice cream. “Yeah? Yeah? Yeah? Wassup?”

 Stan paused for a few seconds before speaking. “Uh, yeah, any idea how we’ll get to Canada? We should probably leave as soon as possible before Cartman tries anything fucking stupid.”

 “Canada? We’re going there? Oh, boy! Yeah! Yeah! That’s gonna be so fun! I haven’t seen Kenny in like a million years! Holy moly! Gosh! Man! We can take my private jet, yeah? I drive planes sometimes! Eric told me it might come into use so I made sure to do it and also drop loads of bombs everywhere which was pretty neat!” 

 Now that Stan was actually looking at Butters, he was able to notice that the man was, indeed, trembling. Eyes wide, grin on full display, he looked about ready to explode. 

 “We-, erm, if we use your private plane, we’ll get noticed, and Canada will probably not let us in. If we’re lucky, depending on national relations, we might not get shot down. We’ll need to get in there at least semi-legally. If we have two separate governments after us, our chances are even slimmer than they already are.”

 Butters blinked slowly at him, like a drunk frog. “Oh. Uhhh. Yeah! I mean, I feel like you’re wrong, but since you’re saying it, I’m sure you’re right. Yeah, yeah. Yeah!” Butters nodded broadly. “Plane go fast. Yes.”

 “...Sounds great. Say, where’s the nearest airport?”

 “Very near, yeah. We can go fast. Yup.”

 A waitress carefully approached them, noticing how their plates were empty. “...Would you like your receipt?”

 Stan turned to her, removing his attention from his sugarfrezied friend. “Yeah, of course.”

 “Great, um, that’ll be 759 sheckles.” 

 A small slip of paper was placed between them, listing what they’d eaten. Stan removed his wallet from his pocket, opening it wide. As expected, it was only filled with American holo-dollars. He removed one and held it up to her. “I’ll assume you don’t take these?”

 She froze in place, eyes quickly darting around before finally falling on Butters. Her voice fell to a hushed whisper. “Sir, I’d recommend you remove that from view or I’m sure you’ll get in trouble.” A strange fear found its way into her voice. “Please.”

 “...Of course.” Quietly, Stan placed his dollars back in his wallet. He turned to Butters. “I guess you’ll pay for this one.”

 Butters blinked at him, apparently only now brought back to reality. “My turn for what-now?”

 “To pay,” Stan said simply. 

 “...Pay?” He glanced at the waitress and then down to the table, where the receipt lay easy. “Oh! Pay! Right, gotcha!” He stared at the receipt for a few seconds. “Um, pay - how?”

 Stan felt his brows knit together. “Dude, you’re fucking-, just pay, man.”

 Butters shook his head back and forth. “I ain’t got no money, Stan. Well, if ya think about it, what use would I have fer money anyways?”

 “To-, to buy things?”

 “Don’t get me wrong or nuthin’, that all sounds neat, but other people could just get that stuff for me, you follow?”

 Stan burrowed his face in his hands. Great, just great. Now they’d have to spend all their damn time washing dishes all because Butters is a fucking hermit. Goddamnit. 

 “...So you two can’t pay?” the waitress said with suspicion. 

 “N-,”

 “Yup, that’s right!” Butters said brightly.

 Gently, Stan placed his forehead on the table and began banging his skull against it. Great. Great. Great. Just awesome.

 “Then, I’m afraid I’ll have to-,”

 “Say, missy, how ‘bout I give you something of equal value?” 

 Stan glanced up and found Butters giving him a strange, lopsided smile, as if to tell him ‘it’ll all be alright. Don’t worry.’ Somehow, Stan couldn’t really believe him.

 “...Equal value?”

 Butters leaned back casually. “Yeah! Most people don’t know nothin’ about it, but I’ll let you in on it.” He smiled in a way Stan had only seen him smile a few times before. “Have you ever heard of NFTs?”

 A strange sensation of hopelessness gripped Stan’s heart and he felt oddly resigned to his fate.

 “NFTs? What’s that?”

 “You’re tired of this job, aren’t you? Always servin’ people, never gettin’ served yourself or anythin’. But that can all change! If you just listen to me, I can get you some good motherfuckin’ money.” What happened after that point was a blur, and Stan decided pretty early on that he’d better plug his ears, lest he should suddenly get an urge to lose what little money he had. Even then, by the end of it, he felt an extraordinary urge to make money and invest it in sketchy schemes.

 Looking at the starry-eyed waitress, it was clear that she was far worse off. “Hang-, hang on, I need to do some stuff.”

 And with that, she ran off, probably to unwillingly relinquish all her earthly possessions in exchange for a wiener-dog dressed as a Swiss yodeler. 

 “Alright, let’s go!” Butters said after it all, taking to his feet and stepping away from the table with a confident swagger that certainly wasn’t there before. Lost in the reverie you might have after watching a family home burn down, it took a few seconds before Stan stood up and scampered after Butters.

 And off they went to the airport.

[hellpark]

CRAIG: Token, people are asking about that Damien kid.

CRAIG: I don’t even know how he’s relevant to all of this, but last I heard, you were the one who talked to him last.

TOKEN: Who the hell is on your blog asking this kind of stuff, dude?

CRAIG: Dude I don’t fucking know. People.

TOKEN: Well...

TOKEN: He was kind of like...

TOKEN: Not helpful at all.

TOKEN: He just told me all of this is our fault.

TOKEN: But he did say if I needed anything that I could call him, I guess?

CRAIG: Yeah that’s what they’re saying you should do.

TOKEN: He didn’t really... give me a phone number or anything, though.

CARTMAN: Ugh, can you guys shut up?

CARTMAN: It’s hard enough sleeping on all this hay without you guys yapping across the freakin’ barn all night.

TOKEN: We’re trying to figure out what to do next, fatass.

CARTMAN: Cool.

CARTMAN: Do it where I can’t hear you guys.

CLYDE: D’you think... if we got his help. he’d get ridda the demons for us...

TOKEN: No, I don’t think so.

TOKEN: He told me unless we like, literally have a favor from the king of hell, we’re pretty shit outta luck.

TOKEN: I really wish I had been thinking a little more at that moment, I would’ve asked him for his number.

TOKEN: Even though... he was the one to tell me to call him.

CLYDE: Well... maybeeeee...

CLYDE: [yawn]

CLYDE: Have you tried jus’ typing a bunch of sixes into the phone...

CLYDE: Heheh... gettit... ‘cause he’s like from hell and stuff and... 6... 66... yeah... nice...

CLYDE: ...

CLYDE: Jimmy would’ve laughed at that...

CLYDE: I’m sure...

CLYDE: ...

CLYDE: sznnnzzzzzz...

TOKEN: ...Yeah, I bet he would’ve, Clyde...

TOKEN: Get some sleep, bud.

CARTMAN: Guys seriously I’m gonna hurl a bale of hay at you if you don’t shut up soon.

CRAIG: Go die Cartman.

CARTMAN: So I can come back as a stupid demon like the rest of those losers?

CARTMAN: No thanks.

TOKEN: Well...

TOKEN: I mean I guess it isn’t the dumbest idea Clyde’s ever had.

CRAIG: You’re seriously gonna try typing 666 into the phone?

TOKEN: That or like, ten sixes to make it a proper number.

CRAIG: Is 666 even a real area code...?

TOKEN: Dude, I don’t know.

TOKEN: What else am I supposed to do right now.

TOKEN: I don’t suppose anybody in here has his number?

CRAIG: Nobody likes hanging around him and his stupid glasses.

TOKEN: Exactly.

TOKEN: I’m.

TOKEN: I’m just gonna try this and see if it works.

TOKEN: ...

TOKEN: Ugh, great. It just went straight to voicemail.

TOKEN: [sigh]

TOKEN: You know what.

TOKEN: I’m not even gonna bother leaving him a message, I doubt he’s going to listen to it anyways...

CRAIG: Cool, what a waste of time.

[stardust-sunset]

hi hello i am a server at a restaurant by day and a kyle fan by night so i am more than happy to supply you with some waiter!kyle headcanons! warning: very VERY long and this isn’t even all of them

he would be one of the strongest servers in the restaurant. i can see him being really organized and having a system for everything. he’d be good with the hospitality part, dude never forgets to bring your side of ranch and water glasses never go empty. it takes a lot to overwhelm him.

however…on the rare occasions he is in the weeds…he’d sass the other staff and grumble under his breath. i don’t see his tables suffering because of this, he screams in the walk in before interacting with them. if he’s got a real bitchass customer, the sass comes out again. and then he screams in the walk in and complains to all his friends about it for the next week. that being said. he has had to be held back from confronting a guest by his coworkers once or twice after being stiffed.

i was a hostess for years so many thoughts here. if he gets triple sat or triple skipped he would be so nice and forgiving to the hostesses to their FACES, but be thinking in his head “how are you this fucking dumb”. if it keeps happening though he will say something, he wouldn’t yell and be a total dick about it but he would be a little condescending. for really good hosts and bussers he likes though, he tips them out extra because he’s just that generous. he would watch out for the young hostesses and make sure the creepy old men don’t bother them. he’d see that shit and immediately direct the old fart away from the underaged girl. and we love him for that.

never lets anyone borrow his fancy pilot g2 pens (same)

always looking dapper! he gels his hair for work cus it needs to be out of the way. and that apron has been washed, steamed, and pressed by mama broflovski herself baby

has beef with the bartender because one very busy saturday night he super sassed them for taking too long to make a drink only to realize he never actually rang it in…oops. bartender never forgave that one

took forever to learn how to pull a beer from the tap and honestly is still not very good at it (me)

refuses to clean any bodily fluids in any part of the restaurant, he’d quit his job first. don’t get paid enough for that (also me and you’d be surprised how often this is a problem)

master silverwear roller like he flys through that shit. mf always leaves exactly when he’s cut bc all his sidework is done already

if the line cooks give him shit he speaks to them in jersey and they’re like oh we didn’t know you were chill like that nvm

he’d have regulars that he just loves and adores and some regulars that he hates so much that he has forbade the hosts from ever putting them in his section

oh he’s a weekend shift hog, he thinks he deserves the busy shifts because he’s simply just a better server than the others so logically why wouldn’t he? smh

he usually likes it when the guys come to eat while he’s working and they goof off a little, but if those mfs show up on a busy weekend he’s like no god please no because they are like the biggest distractions ever. i would go on about how stan, kenny, and cartman would act while kyle’s working but i fear i’ve made this ask long enough as is

the dumbass smile in my face as i saw this in my inbox, i was SO looking forward to answering this one

i fucking love these ohmygosh-he’s such a bitch but in the best ways?? like he genuinely gets me sometimes-

he gets so damn sassy when things don’t go the way he intended-he’s never really snapped at people, he just makes small bites to the neck like ‘oh i didn’t realize that you were doing my job now for me’ and he would let out the most sarcastic ass laugh istg-i feel like he would be the kind of ‘busy bee’ worker where he absolutely loses track of time and is like ‘oh my break was a half hour ago fuck’

he probably tries to take all the night shifts because that’s just how he is. he’s a night owl and likes sleeping in ‘til noon.

but YES PLEASE-I would LOVE to read more of your headcanons like this!! i really don’t mind how long it gets-the more the better imo! i love reading stuff like this!! don’t feel nervous, i would LOVE to read some more!!

(he also sneaks leftovers out for kenny. i like to think those two get closer in their teens because kyle realizes how much kenny means to them all)

one i personally have is that cartman knows kyle’s schedule like the back of his hand and follows a routine in which he knows when all kyle’s breaks are. cartman will subtly fuck with kyle and make him miss all his breaks, usually including his lunch break. (if he’s working the morning, which he usually ends up doing, unlucky) he comes back later to laugh in kyle’s face because poor boy’s hungry and tired. makes some snide ass comment about how ‘oH kYlE tHaTs So ImProFeSsIoNaL oF yOu To YaWn MiDsEnTeNcE’ or he laughs because ‘aren’t you a waiter? your job is to bring out the food, not to want it, kahl’ dunno how the rest would play out. that’s just one i have-if you wanna add on tho i’d love to hear it!! :)

anyway. i’d love to hear any other headcanons you (or anyone else for that matter) may have! ^^

[mirrorshards]

Part 1 (because I can’t fit my main in) Token moved to South Park when he was in the first grade, due to people using him for money. So his parents thought it’ll be an idea to take him to a small town. Jimmy needs glasses. He doesn’t have the best of eye sight, so when he’s in the newspaper room or at home, he’ll wear them. Not at school though. Stan can be a clueless idiot most of the time. Not because he doesn’t care, he just zones out of most conversations.

Part 2 Cartman has tried to kill all the main boys in some way. Most of the time he tries more with Kyle. But Stan and Kennys deaths have been planned a through times. Millie Larsen (I know you wouldn’t know her) was the girl Kenny was dating. They broke up in “Sk**t Hunt”.

Last part Heidi turns back into her old self. But due to what Cartman made her go through, she developed a fear of being mean. If she slips and shouts at someone, she’ll go into a loop of saying “I’m sorry” a hundred times until someone can calm her down. When Tweek got older, his parents got him a therapy cat. They didn’t want to get him a dog, since he’s pretty scared of them. The cats name is Hollow. Oof, that’s it’s. I’m a sucker for random ass head canons and I song understand why. 

these are pretty good..!! I love how varied they are!

for me the stan one is just canon HAHAHA i love my airheaded baby

i also like the one about heidi.. i also think she’d be extra aware of her own words and actions from then on

for cartman it’s also almost canon sdfss but imo cartman just doesn’t care enough to try killing stan and kenny for real... he obviously threatened kenny before but i think he’s just being his bitchy self and doesn’t have any real intention. stan is just... to cartman he’s just another dude. a dude that he likes and a friend, but just another friend. (i attributed it to them only being in the same friend group but are not direct friends)

and with kyle... well i don’t believe cartman truly wants to kill him either... but it’s undeniable he probably almost caused his death several times or had several plans to kill him.. just dunno if he’d actually try them out..! especially since he becomes way more mellow to kyle in recent seasons (but my opinion again--)

[themangledsans0508]

Sleepover Surprises

Tweek approached the pale green house cautiously, clinging the straps of his bags tightly. He didn’t know why he agreed to this, he could be doing anything else tonight. Instead, he was sleeping over at Wendy Testaburger’s house, most likely to be pressed about the details of his relationship. At least it wouldn’t be just the two of them, the New Kid (who’s name he still didn’t know) would also be there.

He liked Wendy well enough, along with Douche-bag, he just got rather stressed when it came to sleepovers, and Wendy could convince anyone to divulge their deepest secrets. Douche-bag, on the other hand, preferred to keep to himself, nobody really knew anything about him, but Wendy trusted the two of them to let them sleepover at her house.

He knocked on the door, hoping that no one would answer and he could just go home, or maybe go to Craig’s house. Alas, no such thing happened, and a tall man answered the door.

“Yes?” He recognized the man as Wendy’s father, confirming he was at the right house.

“Wendy invited me over for a sleepover,” he said, twitching slightly.

“She’s upstairs in her room with some other kid.” He motioned him inside. Tweek looked around the house as he made his way up the stairs. He heard laughter and muffled talking and followed it to Wendy’s room. He knocked first to be polite and not walk in on something he didn’t want to see.

“Come in!” Wendy called. Tweek slowly opened the door and inspected the room.

The room was a soft pink, with a yellow rim around the bottom that looked like clouds. There were flower and animal decals all around, and a few posters. The floor had a teal circle rug with a red bean bag chair and an orange lounge chair. There was also a pink desk and the bed had purple blankets on it.

Wendy and Douche-bag sat on the floor, nail polish spread out between them. There were lots of different shades of pink and purple on display, along with other colors that had not been taken out of the basket yet. Wendy’s nails were painted rose pink, and the pair was currently applying lilac polish to Douche-bag's nails.

“Hey, Tweek! Come sit down! We don’t have to paint your nails, but Willow doesn’t have any nail polish at home so we’re doing them now!”

“Willow? That’s your name?” Tweek asked and Willow nodded. “That’s a pretty weird name for a boy.” Wendy scanned him.

“She’s not a boy, Tweek,” she informed him. Tweek blinked a few times.

“Why didn’t you tell us, dude?” Willow shifted uncomfortably. There were some soft words exchanged between Wendy and Willow before she spoke.

“I’ve lost friends because of it. Before I moved here to South Park. Here, I got jumped by rednecks,” she said quietly. 

“That’s one of the reasons I asked you two to a sleepover. Besides just wanting to hang out, because we have to hang out before you can call me ‘girlfriend’ Tweek, you don’t have those privileges yet. But, you’re both LGBT.” Tweek nodded. He’d heard that acronym before, specifically with Mr Mackey and PC Principal. Neither had really explained what it meant, however.

“I’ve heard that before. What does it mean?” Tweek questioned. Wendy looked at him in surprise.

“You’re not really in the gay community much online, are you? And nobody told you either, Jesus. It’s lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender. There’s also a plus, which incorporates the rest of the community. Since we now have two fully out kids and one partially out, plus at least five I can name who are in the closet, plus myself, I think we should have a pride alliance at our school.”

“What’s a pride alliance?”

“A group for LGBT people so they can support each other, participate in activism, and educate people. Because you guys know that a lot of kids in our school, even LGBT kids, make homophobic and trans-phobic jokes or just know nothing about any of it. Tweek, for a lot of kids, you and Craig were the first gay people they’ve ever met. With Mr Garrison gone, Big Gay Al and Mr Slave keeping to themselves, and Ned and Jimbo running a gun shop and just seeming like your average rednecks. Willow, you’re the first transgender person almost everyone in town has met. We need to raise awareness. Willow, you’ve already told me about some things people have said to and about you.”

Tweek looked at Willow, who was looking away from the group and carefully pulling at the rug so she didn’t ruin her nails. She looked embarrassed like she was ashamed that she had been harassed. 

“What was said to you?” Tweek asked gently.

“You know, like, people called me a tranny, called me a ‘thing’, and said I’m not a real girl because I have a dick. Stuff like that, it’s fine,” she said quietly. Tweek would have never guessed that someone who faced a literal eldritch monster could be so shy. 

“It’s not fine, sis. These things aren’t okay. I know some of these people might be your friends, but it’s still not okay.” Wendy placed a hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture with a soft smile on her face.

“Tweek, you and I have heard lots of bad things about gay people in our school. A lot from Cartman, but a lot from other people too.” Tweek nodded, he’d heard a lot of things. Probably the only reason nobody went after him was that he was dating Craig Tucker and that they both had gotten into fights and could hold their own. Plus, Craig was a respected person in their school as someone who didn’t take shit.

“Okay, so I think we need a pride alliance, do you guys agree?” Wendy looked to them for a genuine response. Both Willow and Tweek nodded.

“Great! With that out of the way, now we can really just hang out!” Wendy waved her hands excitedly. 

“Tweek, do you want your nails painted?” Wendy asked. Tweek hesitated. He wanted to try it again as himself and not a metro-sexual, but he didn’t want to break the barrier that kept him safe from ridicule.

He decided fuck it if anyone wanted to cause trouble him or Craig could deal with it.

“Sure, why not!” Tweek grinned. Maybe it would help him stop picking at his nails. Wendy started filing through her containers of polish. She and Willow exchanged words that Tweek couldn’t hear due in part to the clinking of glass. Willow looked him over and whispered to Wendy. Wendy paused for a moment and looked up at Tweek.

“We can do any color you want, but we recommend green or blue. Green compliments your usual outfit, while blue highlights your eyes,” Wendy suggested.

Tweek debated the options. He’d rather not do a different color since he didn’t really know much about fashion and things going together, he wanted to understand it first. Green was his favorite color, but blue was Craig’s favorite color. He decided green, he’d do blue next time.

“Green,” he said. Tweek watched Wendy take out different shades of green and Willow inspect them. After about ten rejected shades, Willow showed one to Wendy. Wendy nodded and turned to Tweek.

“What do you think about this shade? It’s pastel.” Tweek looked at the color. It was only a bit darker than some of the other shades and he didn’t know how they had decided on this specific one.

“Whatever you guys think, you’re the experts,” he shrugged. 

“Well then give me your hand, I’m steadier than Willow since she’s new.” Wendy held his wrist tightly so he wouldn’t twitch and mess up her work while Willow watched.

“You said Willow’s new, well how long have you been painting nails, Willow?” he asked. She counted on her fingers.

“About two weeks, since I only started after we stopped playing with that damned stick. And that’s also when my dad let me start using it.” Tweek recognized her tone of voice. It was the same one he used when he talked to Craig about his parents, one of sadness and bitterness. He wanted to show he understood where she was coming from.

“The only reason my parents accepted me was that it would be good for their business, not because I was their son,” Tweek said bitterly. 

“Guys, I hate to break it to you, but your parents are terrible,” Wendy interrupted. Tweek looked at Wendy with a scowl that wasn’t directed at her.

“You have no idea,” he muttered. 

Willow didn’t say anything, instead, she checked her nails to make sure she hadn’t accidentally smudged the lilac. He noticed Wendy debating something in her head and wondered if he should ask her about it. However, Wendy focused on Tweek’s nails again and he figured she had decided not to say anything.

“Wendy,” Tweek said, “that wasn’t the only real reason you invited us here, right?” Wendy shook her head.

“No, I wanted to hang out, and-” she got a mischievous grin on her face, “ask how your boyfriend is.” Tweek laughed.

“I thought that was a reason.”

“Can you blame her? I had to get you two back together.” Willow said.

“There’s that voice of yours!” Wendy wrapped her arm around Willow’s shoulder and squeezed. 

“Well, I really love your relationship, it’s healthy and it’s a good example of how to support your partner through difficult moments. Like Tweek, I don’t know if you’re open about it but I can tell you have anxiety. And as far as I’ve seen, fighting alongside you two in battle and risking our lives together, Craig really does his best to help you stay grounded,” Willow explained, “Also, I want to try and get more comfortable around you, I think you’re a friend of mine.”

“Aww, Willow, you want to be closer friends with Tweek? I’m glad I planned this sleepover,” Wendy grinned. 

“I mean, everything you said is true as long as he doesn’t start being a jerk. Sometimes he gets moody, but we’re working on that. We have a long time to work everything out,” Tweek disclosed. Wendy nodded.

“Yeah, that makes sense. He might be hot but he also is a dick, to like, everyone but you,” Wendy said. Willow nodded in agreement.

“Wait, that’s my boyfriend! He’s hot but he’s mine. Back off, girlfriend,” Tweek joked. Willow laughed.

“It’s true though, both parts. He is pretty attractive but he seemed to at best tolerate his friends, or downright insult them. He treated me and Jimmy the same and made fun of Clyde constantly. But for you, he makes almost every exception. He’s welcome to touch, sweet words, and emotions. From what I’ve heard, he didn’t even feel emotions. However when I went to get help him and when I gave him the couple’s counselling slip, he actually showed something,” Willow explained. Tweek fidgeted with his hair using his free hand, which had yet to be painted.

“I mean, he does help me get a hold of myself pretty often but sometimes he makes it worse but it’s not like he’s trying, it just happens,” Tweek explained, “Wendy, do you remember when President Garrison made all those tweets about me being this person I’m not and making North Korea hate me?” It took Wendy a few moments of visible confusion to process what he had said.

��That week with the distracted driving and suicide awareness things going on?” she clarified. 

“Yeah, but Craig tried to help me by explaining away my feelings, and we got in a fight. It made me so stressed I skipped school, and I felt terrible until he came home after school and-”

“Wait, did you say came home? Like you two live together? That’s so cute!” Wendy said excitedly. Tweek quickly waved his hands like he could dismiss the words.

“No! No, okay, maybe we basically live together, I go to his house all the time because it’s nice there and he comes over to calm me down or help me but we don’t live together!” Tweek rambled, “I’m going to finish my story. So, he came to my house, and he didn’t try to reason away any of my feelings he just listened. It was nice.”

“That’s what a healthy couple would do,” Willow stated.

“They are a healthy couple,” Wendy retorted half-jokingly.

“I know, healthier than half the married couples I’ve seen here.”

“Yeah, and I never got thanked for showing the school Yaoi art, which got you a boyfriend Tweek.” He felt the tips of his ears heat up. Yeah, that’s how they started fake-dating, and then real dating, but it was also incredibly embarrassing for art of him and Craig to be all over the town.

“That was so embarrassing, it forced me to come out! Craig didn’t even acknowledge how he felt back then, he just decided to ignore it because he felt like he’d be rejected by his friends and family and then he was basically forced into a relationship with me and his dad didn’t accept him at first and our relationship was fake at first and-” Tweek started spilling everything out, his breathing becoming irregular as he talked. His fingers tangled in his hair and he tugged lightly before someone else pulled his hand away from his hair and put it on the ground.

“Tweek, it’s okay. Take deep breaths,” Willow guided. Wendy squeezed his palm on the hand she was about finished with the paint on. He focused on their touch and slowly calmed down.

“Thank you,” he eventually managed to whisper.

“You’re welcome. I understand it’s okay,” Willow assured.

“How did you know how to help me?” he asked.

“Before I got prescribed medications, that’s how my best friend would calm me down.”

“You know, it kind of sucks that touch helps me calm down,” Tweek admitted, “Craig isn’t with me twenty-four seven, and most guys aren’t really into touching. They think it’s gay, it’s just not something they do.”

“That’s one thing us girls have over guys. We’re always touching each other because it’s not gay, it’s how we show we love each other. Tweek, as head of the council of girls, I welcome you to be treated as we treat each other. That means comfort touches,” Wendy declared. Tweek blinked a few times.

“There’s a council of girls?”

“Of course, we’re organised, unlike most of the boys. Sisterhood is no joke,” Wendy said.

“Okay, that makes sense. But you’re the head of them?”

“Yes, Willow is my aid because some of the girls are still sceptical of her, which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. She’s as much a girl as any other member of the council,” Wendy mumbled bitterly. She then let Tweek’s hand go and took his other one. “Don’t fiddle with anything, it’ll ruin the polish. You can move it as soon as I’m done this one. Don’t listen to me and I’ll duct tape your hand so you can’t move it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Willow, we’ll do your makeup after we’re done Tweek’s nails.”

-

Tweek often had trouble sleeping, in fact, he rarely slept more than an hour at a time. He could only sleep with Craig with him. He was left just staring at the wall, looking at every little detail that the beam on moonlight highlighted. The sound of partying, cars, and the quiet breathing in the room were all he heard.

He turned to face the bed so he could look out the window and found his view partially blocked by a body. Willow was sitting up, staring out the window herself. Her knees were pulled up to her chest. The soft glow of the moon reflected off jer face and highlighted some silent tears that were rolling down her cheek.

“Willow?” he asked quietly. She turned to face him and immediately wiped her eyes.

“Tweek. I thought you were asleep,” she whispered.

“I don’t sleep.”

“Oh.” She slid out of the bed to sit on the floor, looking back to make sure that she hadn’t woken Wendy up. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink all that coffee.”

“No.”

They sat awkwardly, wanting to speak and try to connect to each other and show their understanding of each other. Tweek decided to take the initiative.

“I understand how you feel. About your parents, I mean,” Tweek said.

“No, you don’t,” she spat, “but I appreciate it. Our families are different. You haven’t seen mine. I haven’t seen yours. But I think you’re right. Our families are terrible.” Tweek was taken aback by the venom in her voice. It wasn’t directed at him, but directed at the world.

“I want to understand how people treat you because I think we could be good friends. I just don’t want to say anything wrong. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I understand what it’s like being trans.”

“You’re smart and kind. We’ll talk about it sometime. We are similar, aren’t we.” Tweek grinned slightly

“Yeah, we are.” Willow silently got up and walked towards Tweek, pulling him into a hug. “You’re a good person, Tweek. Craig is lucky to have you. Stay you, no matter what. Stay you.” She got up and returned to the bed, slipping back under the covers. 

Tweek turned back to face the wall. Maybe it would be nice to have another friend, someone to go to when Craig was unavailable or to just hang out with. 

The sleepover wasn’t terrible in the end.