#sp red goth

[secrets-of-the-library]

We've got a soft spot for the rare pair Millipete so here you go! Don't they make a cute couple? I put in the optional stand-alone versions too as a bonus!

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

I love ur writing sm😭

If you're not busy, could I request pete and Michael with a jock s/o who is strong enough to carry them? ^^

,

This was so cute! Thank you so much for your request!! 💞

Michael and Pete with Jock!S/O

Michael:

- Michael took delight in the fact that you were strong

- It made him giddy as a damn goose to see you showing of your muscles, whether it be working around the house or staring at your back muscles while you change

- One day you were both just in the kitchen, you leaning against the counter while he stood at the stove, cooking something for dinner

- You don’t know why you wanted to so bad, but you crept up from behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle and picking him up off the ground

- When you heard him start laughing, both out of shock and being picked up like he was a kid again

- After you set him down, he all but begged you to try and give him a piggy back ride

- To which you happily complied after finishing dinner

- Please pick Michael up more because he thinks you’re so cool when you show off your strength

Pete:

- Pete acts indifferent, but he truly is in awe at you

- He won’t outwardly comment on your toned body, but in his mind, he’s fangirling over you

- The first time you showed him how strong you were was probably when he tripped and almost fell right to the floor

- You caught him just in time and for a split second, he just stared at you with adoration in his eyes

- He felt like he was in some corny ass disney movie, him being the clumsy princess and you being the charming knight

- Since that, he’s actively searching for any moment that he can grab your arm, whether it be looping his with yours when out in public or laying his cheek against you when you’re cuddling on the couch

- Pete’s completely smitten with you, please flex and show him how built you are and he’ll devote his entire life to you

[stripeixii-rp]

☆OPEN☆

☆Pete Thelman☆

☆Southpark☆

South Park usually never reached a temperature higher than 86 degrees in the summer because of its altitude , but this summer had hit a record high of 98 in the day and a startling low of 92. It almost goes without saying that South Park's residents were not thrilled. As expected, the metal prison that was his mom's small trailer only magnified the heat to a new excruciating type of thickness. Even with all of the openable windows open, both exterior doors wide open with only the mosquito netting acting as a barrier, and all of the doors within the small trailer left astray, the metal prison was still uncomfortably hot. Not even the occasional hot breeze helped, and the small rotating fan didn't seem to make a dent. He was truly suffering, but with Pete's mom out of town this trailer became ideal for him to try and relax in peace. Tonight would have been one of those relaxing nights, but the heat almost entirely killed the mood. So he lay, limbs outstretched, in a silent unresolved tension. It may be too hot, but oh how Pete wished he could latch onto someone, out of lack of affection. It was a painful isolation that was heavy on his mind as he lay alone, staring at the ceiling. Sweat soaked and heavy minded he pushed those thoughts away, as he now tried to think on his college courses. He was hellbent on continuing through this year, but held little hope in It as he often gave into peer pressure and boy did his peers pressure. Pete refused to swallow his pride, however, and continued on, his actions almost graceful despite the heat and the fact that just the sheet on the mattress was damp with sweat. There was no denying it was fucking hot. He grabbed a text book from his bag by the bed. He effortlessly flipped to a random page. Science it was.

For once the thick black curtain that hung over the small window of the room was shifted astray to allow any gust of air to circulate any of the heat, if only a little, yet all that seemed to pool in was moonlight. Pete decided beggars were, in fact, not choosers. He drank in the image of his empty, small, and relatively clean room in the moonlight, the way it bounced off everything, including his own rounded features, his sweat soaked chest, and no doubt his drowsy eyes, the near faint smears left behind from once shockingly dark eyeliner that he could only see part of against his cheeks and the sides of his nose. Taking a soft yet somewhat deep breath Pete couldn't help but swallow the light scent just barely clinging to the air through its damp and humid state. Sweat and dust never smelled more appealing to him as he drank in the distraction. He swallowed a bit harshly as a sharp pang of loneliness overtook him, his body involuntarily squirming with its inconvenience, though nothing overly noticeable. He was... Secretly a bit glad that he had skipped out on a gathering today, he enjoyed solitude to a degree, and today, 3 college classes where he spoke to no one was enough social interaction. Yet still he lingered on the thought of one of his friend's climate controlled houses, literally bathing in air conditioning. Fighting through his thoughts like a starving child just so he could cling to his own twin sized bed with a lumpy matress in 90 degree heat was not the best of choices, but it sure felt good. Pete was all about feeling good...

The smaller boy moved lazily, bringing a hand up to his sweat soaked fringe to push it off his scarred forehead, though did little to the sweat that ran down his neck and side as he shifted. Soon enough it didn't matter anyway as his arm was draped over his own bare abdomen once more, his fingers laced gently in the belt loop of his, probably heat trapping jeans. He hadn't even realised his face was fully visible now, makeup almost completely removed by sweat and annoyed hands, no one would witness it though. Sweat gently highlighting his abundance of acne scars, and his now unkempt eyebrows soaked in sweat revealed just how much he wasn't looking into his appearance. Hell, for class he was just in a slate grey t-shirt and jeans, he avoided the daylight as if it where the plague, so why fuss? Actually keeping up with school work seemed to warrant less time to appearance. Pete absolutely hated when he felt like this. it was absolutely, annoyingly bittersweet. He tried so hard to ignore his lonesome thoughts but all of these little things added up. From the mindless chatter of strangers to the annoying repetative noise of pages turning, he wanted nothing to do with that today, and worked to convince himself he was glad he was home alone. Digging through his pockets helplessly erratic, he decided he needed a cigarette and within the next 3 minutes. He pulled out the slim stress reliever from its pack and shoved the filter into his mouth with shaky hands. It was definitely an odd thought process for the normally abrasive male. He stood and quickly escaped the newly discovered suffocating atmosphere of the small room. He didn't like the negative thought flowing in and hoped that this would be enough of a distraction.

Hr didn't actually feel better until he stepped outside, the hot breeze hitting him violently though far better than anything he could hope for inside. Thinking on it now he shouldn't have vacated so abruptly, but even so, no one was there to witness it. He was buzzing on a newfound restlessness. He felt sick.

The heat was not a helping factor. He attempted to swallow all his feeling as he sat on the metal steps leading into the trailer.

He went to light his cigarette but it seems the lighter was out of fluid. It was almost ironic that he couldn't start a fire but it was fucking hot outside.

[stylestiel]

Heidi's Emojis Analysis Thread!

According to Heidi's chart, these are the emojis used by the kids:

Main Boys:

Stan:😤

Kyle:😤😱

Kenny: 😏🌮✌🏻

Cartman: 🤔😝😬😈

Butters:  🍁🍆👫🍍

Those Guys:

Craig: 💪🏻☠️💯🙂😩

Tweek: 😱😩☕

Jimmy: 🙁🎮🙂🍕

Tolkien: 👍🏿✊🏿💁🏿‍♂️💯

Clyde: 😏🍌💥🎉

Timmy: 😬👋🏻💩👾

The Girls:

Wendy: ❤️💜🐮😽😘

Bebe: 🙂😱💋🐮

Lola: 💯🙂🍕

Red: 🍒☀️🐮

Nichole: 👎🏾🍕🍣🐮

Annie: 💜💗🌈💋🍒

Shelley: 🍁🍆👫🍍

Goth Kids:

Henrietta: 😭😔🌧️🖤

Pete:😈😤😩

Firkle: 😩🌧️☠️😭

Michael: 🌚😔😭

B-Listers:

Scott: 💯🙂🍕

Kevin: 🎉🍌💥🙋🏻‍♀️😮

Jason: 💩💪🏻☢️

[electricwalkman]

goth bfs 🖤❤️

[gotyckasztuka]

Thought I might share some sketches of mine... Anyways, teen goth kids from South Park 🦇

[buttfrovski]

someone's gotta break it to matt and trey one of these mfs is definitely trans

[curly-goth]

Another one 🫰🫰🫶🫶

Love henrietta so much, this ship was made for a friend but yeah

[spookymultimedia]

[mstudi0s]

[diamonddrawsstuff]

The chokehold this au has on me

[secrets-of-the-library]

Goth cowboy has ENTERED the chat

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

Hi! I really love your blog and was wonderinh if we could maybe get a NSFW fic of Michael and/or Pete with the reader being self-conscious about their appearance?

Also again, thank you SO MUCH for the work you put into your writing! It’s really good, especially considering that there is barely anything good out there regarding the goth kids. :)) (English isn’t my first language, so sorry if anything is off-)

PETE MY LOVE PETE MY LIFE PETE PETE PETE

I like the self-conscious reader trope. It gives me the opportunity to write sweet smut over hard smut

Also your English is perfect! Better than mine and it’s my first language 🥴 Thank you for your kind words, they reall made my day!

~~~~~~~

You had been with Pete for as long as you could remember. It was so hard to imagine your life without your red-headed counterpart. He had given you nothing but his all through the years. All of his love, all of his care, all of his soul, they’ve all been neatly packaged, wrapped and dropped right onto your doorstep for you to have all to yourself. Waking up to his sweet morning mumbles and the warmth of his embrace almost everyday was truly the one thing you looked forward to the most. Pete was unfiltered when he first woke up, so the things he said to you in his sleepy haze were nothing but true, his devotion to you spouting from his lips.

Still…

When you got home from work and looked into the mirror of the bathroom, you could only feel nothing but hate for yourself. The person looking at you was one you didn’t recognize. Their hips were wider, skin little more pale, hair frizzy and creating a halo around the crown of your head. You reached up to your face, feeling how puffy your cheeks had become. Sighing, you turned from the mirror, not being able to spare another glance at the person you didn’t recognize anymore. Your arms wrapped over you stomach, trying to hide the small pudge you had gained from your years together with Pete.

It made sense, you thought, that you gaining more weight was his fault. He spoiled you with dinner, desserts, snacks and candies, basically whenever you asked. You felt gross, and you made the decision to join the gym so you can get back to feeling more confident about yourself. Moving to the shower, you reached out to the handle, turning the knob of the hot water on until the showerhead began to stream. Stepping away just enough to pull your shirt over your head, you fought the urge to look at your semi nude body, not wanting to do more mental damage than you’ve already done.

You finished undressing and timidly stepped into the shower. The hot water hit your shoulders and you groaned, the heat doing wonders to your sore muscles. Letting the water run over you, your eyes fluttered shut, taking in the gentle pelting of the showerhead with content. Over the rushing water, you could hear the door of the bathroom being open, but chose not to focus on it. Pete was home, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to come running to the bathroom while you showered. He liked to sit with you, watching you or partaking in conversation. It was sweet, domestic, and everything you have ever craved from the man.

But today was different. You were nervous that when he pulled open the shower door, he’d say something about your weight gain, and his words would send you into a tizzy. Your throat felt tight as you heard the door shut, and your eyes finally popped open, tears that you didn’t know were forming joining the water drops on your cheeks. His red and black hair was blurred through the steam covered glass door. Biting your lower lip, you hoped he would just opt to speak to you through the closed entrance, but it was a lost cause. Pete liked to look at you while you shared shower conversation, his eyes darting up and down your body as you washed over your skin, watching the bubbles run down your legs before meeting your gaze again, him falling in love all over again.

And like usual, the door was pulled open, revealing the man you had been dreading to see. “Hey, love,” he greeted with a smile, his eyes filled with love and adoration. Subconciously, your arms moved back down to your stomach, shielding the small pudge of your stomach from his view. You offered a smile in response, turning your back on him to face the wall. “Hey! I was trying to look at you,” you could hear the pout on Pete’s words. “I know, I just…” you hesitated, not really having an excuse as to why you turned away.

Despite not seeing it, you could feel Pete’s burning gaze at your back. And you just knew that he had one eyebrow raised, waiting to hear the rest of your sorry explanation. “I just, don’t want you looking at me right now,” you sighed, head hanging down. “Why not?” your boyfriend questioned, his head tilting to the side as he cocked his hip. “I look gross. I’ve gained weight, I’m pale, my hair is a mess,” you started lifting off the most noticeable problems. At least the ones you thought were actual problems. Besides the water hitting the ground, the silence in the room was almost suffocating, and you felt your tears welling up once again. Silence from your Pete had you feeling sick, and your chest began to tighten.

The shower door shut, and you let out a shaky breath. You heard a thud on the counter, your gaze still downcast the ground. The water swirled like a vortex down the drain, and your eyes followed the movement, your mind racing a mile a minute. Suddenly, the door was opened once again, and you felt Pete’s arms wrap around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. Your eyes widened at the feeling of dampening fabric, and looking down at his arms around your waist, your assumption of him still being dressed was proven right.

Pete’s head slotted into the space between your neck and shoulders, pressing soft kisses all over your skin. “(Y/n), I don’t care what you look like,” his hands began to run over your skin, his hands planted flat against your flesh as he mapped out your curves and edges. They ran up your sides, causing you to shiver at the ticklish feelings. Pete’s hands moved from your sides to your front, and you pressed against him, trying to avoid his hands running over your stomach. Your effort was all for not, and his extremities ran over your stomach, feeling the plush gently as more kisses were pressed to your shoulder. “So perfect…” he sighed against your skin, his hands moving further down once again.

They started at the top of your thighs, fingers digging in slightly as he ran over your legs, squeezing gently. Then, his hands ran back up, over your hips and moving towards your posterior. Grabbing a handful of your butt, he squeezed, chuckling softly at your protests. “You’re beautiful. You’ll never stop being beautiful in my eyes. I don’t care what you look like or how you act, you’re the most gorgeous person I know,” he helped you to turn around so you faced him, his arms slinking around your middle once again, “And you’ll never be anything different. You’re too good for me to not love you because of how you look. Now stop feeling so bad about yourself.” he finished his praises with a sweet kiss on your lips.

Pete’s words lit a fire in your stomach, the compliments doing a little too much to excite you. Your hands moved to his chest as your fingers began making quick work of his shirt. “You know, as much as I love how cheesy you are, I can’t help but think you’re an idiot for getting in here fully dressed,” you giggled softly, your eyes catching his. Pete responded with a soft smile and a shrug, helping you to peel his wet shirt off of him. “I think you’re an idiot all the time,” he responded, finishing undressing himself before standing infront of you once again. He gathered his garments and threw them out of the shower, the fabric hitting the ground with a wet *splat!*.

Hands on his body, you rubbed up his chest gently, resting them on his shoulders. Your gaze became half lidded as his own hands glided to your chest, fingers finding your nipples and giving a teasing squeeze to the buds. A gasp slid past your lips as you pouted up at your boyfriend, choosing to ignore his shit eating grin at your reaction. “At least wait until we get to the bedroom,” you grumbled, leaning up to press a kiss on his lips.

“I don’t think I can wait until then.”

And with those words, Pete pulled you flush against his body, his lips latching onto yours and deepening the kiss. His hands wandered over your skin once again, these time needy and unwavering, squeezing at any expanse of skin he could. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, not waiting for your approval before his muscle thrust into your mouth. From there, his tongue fought with yours, taking time to explore your wet cavern as he’s done so many times before.

Your arms wrapped out his neck lazily, keeping him pulled tight against you as you felt his wandering hands travel over your body. Cursing the need for breath, you broke away with a small gasp, not realizing how low you were running on air. Pete’s lips planted against your neck, his teeth grazing over the soft flesh as he nipped along the pale skin. With each bite, he placed a gentle kiss behind, latching his lips onto some places to hopefully produce some hickies, to show that you’re his and no one elses. He continued kissing down your neck, blindly directing you until your back was pressed against the cold shower wall, chuckling at the sharp gasp you inhaled.

He placed a kiss to each of your breasts, before sinking to his knees, coming face to face with your sex. Looking up at you from wet lashes, he leaned towards you, pressing a kiss to your thigh. You shuddered, it was almost nauseating as just how close his lips were to your core. Pete’s teeth grazed over your leg’s skin, giving slightly harder nips, just enough to have you gasping and whining above him. His teeth sank softly into your thigh and you cried out, your hips bucking at the pinching sensation. His tongue ran over the indents from his teeth, and another smirk crossed his lips.

Tapping your other thigh, he moved closer to you, his chest pressing against your legs. You shifted your weight onto one leg, obeying his silent order to hook your other over his shoulder. “Good girl,” his voice was hushed, but the praise screamed in your head. A warm flush ran over your cheeks at his words, breath shaky as you sighed softly. Leaning forward he pressed one last soft kiss to your pubic mound before his tongue darted over and swiped over your slit, your voice warbling as a moan fell from your lips.

Pete set a steady motion at pulling you apart, his tongue flicking so deviously gentle over your bundle of nerves, causing you to produce more unholy noises at his actions. Grinding your hips against his tongue, your head fell back against the shower tiles, one hand planted firmly on a neighboring wall, the other tangling into the man’s wet locks. Soft whines and whimpers flirted with the sound of running water. Pete’s fingers came up to your center, his digits sliding gently through your soaked slit before he pushed a finger into you. You moaned out, hips bucking forward once again at the welcomed intrusion.

Pumping his digit in and out, he pulled away from you, smiling at your grumble of protest. He watched his finger slip from you only to watch it sink back in, curling the extremity to rub against your g-spot. A whine escaped from your throat, and at that, Pete added a second finger. Your hips jerked, your leg beginning to tremble as you felt the knot begin forming in your stomach. Pete slowed his motions, watching your face screw up in agitation. “If you want to cum, you have to tell me how pretty you are,” he said, his tongue swiping over his bottom lips, remnants of your flavor still on it.

“Please! I need it,” you grunted out, another moan leaving your lips. The man pouted, halting his actions immediately, his fingers still sunk deep inside of you. “How pretty are you?” he reflected, watching you intently as you tried to ride his fingers. “G-gorgeous. I’m beautiful, no matter what I look like!” you were practically crying at this point, teeth gritting as his fingers began to pump once again. “What else?” he purred, curling his fingers into your spot once again.

Your eyes screwed shut, the noises coming from you almost animalistic. “You’re not gonna l… leave me, no ma-matter what I look like. Ungh!” you cried out as his mouth made contact with your core once again. The knot was becoming tighter and tighter, you felt as if you were going insane. The moment Pete’s lips latched around your bud and provided a gentle suction, you squealed as the knot finally snapped, your chest heaving as you rode out your orgasm.

Pete’s fingers kept pumping, riding you through your high gently. His tongue flicked over your clit a few more times before halting, his digits leaving your dripping cunt. Unhooking your leg from his shoulder and standing back to full height, Pete pulled you against him, his hands rubbing your muscles as you caught your breath. “Don’t ever,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, tucking his face into the curve of your neck, pressing another gentle kiss to your throat, “Ever say that you aren’t worthy of my love.” he finished. You both just enjoyed the moment, letting the water run over your bodies until it turned cold.

[glimfag]

Pete Thelman stimboard for @h0ppin-channels <3

🕯 ❤️ 🕸

🛁 ☆ 💋

💀 🖌 🚬

[umtrem]

Mallgoth red!!!

[jackalopes-pen]

Chapter 5: Perspective

Summary: Pete is noticing that Stan has been inconsistent, and it’s starting to get him paranoid.

Characters: Stan Marsh, Pete Thelman, Michael (No last Name)

Word Count: 867

Previous [Laughter] | [Debriefing]

A/N: I genuinely think what little traction I had is gone. Just kind of a void account until I get noticed by someone bigger. Whatever though, I’m still doing this.

School fucking sucks. It’s not as if that’s some revolutionary take, but it was practically Pete’s mantra for the entirety of this. It felt like no one could just shut the fuck up about how ‘lucky’ he was to be a kid from the East District allowed to go the preparatory school. Some fucking deal to tolerate rich assholes and have his scholarship questioned every other day. It felt like everyone at home was up their own ass about ‘the four lucky kids’ who got some ‘great honour’, and everyone here says he doesn’t belong.

Sometimes, when he gets shoved in the halls and called every synonym for poor you can think of, he wishes he didn’t apply. That damn literary scholarship is the only reason he’s here and not with the people he knows. One stupid essay and a poem later, now this is his life. But if he didn’t then his closest friend would be alone with a bunch of preppy a-holes so it’s difficult to say he wouldn’t even if he knew what would happen. Poor guy was completely isolated and came back with bruises or marks every day. It was horrible to watch, especially as Pete saw a once confident and nonchalant man become closed-off and trapped in his own thoughts. All alone…

Speaking of, he’s been sitting alone at this library for the better part of five minutes and that tall bastard he did this for still hasn’t shown up. They have an idiot they’ve been forced to tutor, where the fuck is he?!

Michael suddenly came in, absolutely drenched in water, feathers, and glitter, He looked completely pissed off. “Not. A. Word.”

Pete can barely contain his laughter. Michael looks like a wet bird, still dripping on the ground. He lets himself laugh to get it out but quickly regains composure. Pete pats the seat next to him.

“So… why?” Stan asked tentatively.

“None of your business, conformist.” Michael sighs and shakes his head so it stops dripping.

“Oh sorry…” Stan sounds ashamed for asking. It’s probably sarcastic, anyway. People like him hold no sympathy for people like them. They’re different species, by his standards. They’re the assholes who do this kind of thing to people who are just trying to live.

“Why do you care? Let’s just get this over with.” Pete rolled his eyes.

After a painfully long session of teaching one idiot how to do the basics of poetry, Pete and Michael started on their way home. It's a long route, walking down to the subway, riding three stations, then walking about a mile until they get to their own section of the East District.

“I just don’t get it.” Pete said as they rode through the subway.

“Get what?” Michael said, glancing over. He was still trying to get the glitter off his clothes.

“That guy, Stan. First he’s all chatty and friendly, then he accuses you of being a vigilante, and then he pretends to be all concerned when shit happens. It’s just- confusing. I don’t get his deal.” Pete said, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “These damn privileged assholes, they’re just fucking weird.”

“I mean, yeah. But is that our problem?” Michael looked over at Pete then continued speaking “Why is it our business what some dickwad does?”

“If he’s trying to accuse us of being wanted criminals, then yeah. It is our business.” Pete hissed out.

“It’s like there’s an open case on it. He’s probably just like any other annoying prep, thinks the first poor person they see is a murderer.” Michael rolls his eyes. He’s probably right in all honesty, it’s just another classist.

They came to their stop on the subway, and shuffled out of the station. Walking out into a completely different area then they entered. Instead of nice, well kept buildings they’re old and dilapidated. Nothing is clean, nothing is safe. They try to avoid walking on broken glass, as they make their way to their homes.

It’s a little community of Slavic immigrants, with not enough from any one country to branch out. They just stick together and try to keep their languages and cultures alive in their children. It has too many damn names for anyone’s liking, Pete just decided to call it ‘The North’. He looked around at the various slavic flags hanging from windows and balconies, to find the polish flag. They all looked like the same poorly constructed tenant, it was the only distinct feature.

“See you around, man. Let me know if the glitter comes out.” Pete waved Michael off, who left without a sound apparently a while ago. “Oh… okay. Bye, dude.”

Pete walked up to the decaying apartment building, and climbed the steps to his apartment, with his Babcia Zuzanna. He waved her a quick hello and flopped down on the couch, eager to sleep.

After a day of bullshit, annoyance, and with a lot to do later that night he just needed a nap. He needed to be unconscious for a while and rest before he had to deal with any more fuckery. Pete sighed into the couch and closed eyes. He fell asleep almost immediately.