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ani-coolgirl · 9 months

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750 Pounds of Dirt Ain't Enough

Written for @wincestwednesdays prompt 4: buried

Read here on AO3

It starts when Dean is twenty while he and Sam are held up in some dinky cabin in Colorado in the aftermath of a snowstorm. Dean’s pissed because Dad left him behind for no goddamn reason—Sam’s not a baby, he doesn’t need watching. Sam’s pissed for the same reason, but tenfold because Dean hadn’t argued the point—just mumbled, “Yes, sir,” after he’d quietly suggested that Sam would be fine on his own and Dad had given him a Look before going off to chase his signs and portents. The cold doesn’t do enough to smother their anger and the fact that the weather has them trapped only makes it worse. The storm let up hours ago but the roads are still frozen solid and will be for days yet. They’ve already run through every card game in the book and played Monopoly exactly once. Sam said the Free Parking rule isn’t in the book. Dean said Sam was a nerd and an asshole. In the ensuing scuffle, they lost the car piece and a few hundred in fake dollars. Monopoly’s a stupid game anyway.

They’ve been taking turns digging a path from the front door to the car to the road in the unlikely event they’ll be able to escape this snowy hellhole anytime soon. It’s Sam’s turn and Dean’s wondering if it’s worth the effort of pushing aside three layers of clothing to jerk off. There’s not much else to do around here, and given that the cabin is basically just one big room, there’s no other opportunity to do the deed with any sort of privacy. The only “reading” material is a Sears catalog. The lady modeling sweaters isn’t his usual type, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Before he can make up his mind though, Sam storms back inside, tossing aside his gloves and hat in disgust.

“The stupid shovel broke,” Sam snarls, slamming the door behind him. The tip of his nose and cheeks are bright and ruddy like a holiday card. ”Piece of shit.” He struggles with the zipper of his jacket, fingers clumsy and the metal tab stubborn; he must be freezing. The thought hits Dean like a fastball to the face:

I could warm him up, he thinks. Get him so goddamn warm.

It’s gone in the span of a blink, but the rogue thought echoes through the caverns of his mind. Dean ends up shoving him in front of the heater and calling him a pussy until Sam’s screaming at him again. By the time they’ve exiled themselves to opposite corners of the cabin the thought, if it was ever real, has utterly vanished. Dean’s sure of it.

*~*

It happens again when he’s twenty-two and Sam’s standing in a hole three feet deep—only three more to go. Dad’s dealing with a werewolf in the next state over while they take care of a haunting. It’s their first hunt alone. Everything’s going like clockwork; Dad will be pleased, even if he doesn’t say so. He and Sam work well together, better than usual since Dean doesn’t have to waste time playing buffer between father and youngest. He thinks about maybe treating Sam to a trip to a local museum after they’re done (done a whole day ahead of schedule and Sam loves that nerdy shit) when Sam abruptly stops digging, stabbing the shovel into the ground and looking up at Dean with an unreadable expression on his face.

“You know I’m not doing this forever, right?” he says.

Dean stares at him blankly. The flashlight wanders, shining directly into Sam’s face. His pupils contract and Dean can pick out the bands of green within the dark amber of his irises more clearly than ever before—there are even hints of gold. A brown streak crosses his cheek like a splash of old blood and Dean wants to clean it off with his tongue.

Gorgeous.

Sam swears and shoots him the middle finger, blinking rapidly. Dean orders him to keep digging before the ghost of Harold Maddox realizes what’s what and decides not to wait quietly while they torch his bones. Neither one of them speaks as they watch the body burn or on their way back to the car. Dean still takes him to the museum the next day. When Sam thanks him, Dean wants to be sick. Two months later, Sam leaves and doesn’t look back. Dean’s glad he didn’t—he’s terrified of what Sam might’ve seen if he did.

*~*

He’s twenty-six and the love of his brother’s life has died, it sneaks back into his life like an insidious serpent.

Sam holds it together through the funeral but Dean can see it on his face as the coffin is lowered into the ground—the cracks forming on the surface. They take off while the priest is still talking. At the hotel, Sam crawls into Dean’s arms, still in his suit, and hides his face in Dean’s collar while he shakes.

“There wasn’t even anything in there,” he hiccups trying and failing to bite back his sobs. “Why would they bury an empty box?”

Dean doesn’t answer—he doesn’t get it either—but he knows that’s not what Sam wants to hear right now. He just pushes his hair away from his forehead and thinks—

God, you’re beautiful.

—nothing at all. Sam falls asleep there, wet face against his chest. Dean doesn’t dare move for hours. He doesn’t sleep. It has everything to do with the possibility of accidentally disturbing Sam and nothing to do with what he might dream if he closes his eyes.

*~*

Dean’s twenty-eight. His brother’s twenty-four. His brother will be twenty-four forever. It’s never going away.

He won’t let Bobby bury his brother. He kisses Sam’s cold forehead again and again. He’s starting to smell. There’s no one to hear so he says,

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—”

over and over until he’s hoarse. Then, he takes a tin box with some graveyard dirt, a bone of a black cat, and his picture inside, and finds the nearest crossroads. The box goes in the ground. His feelings don’t.

*~*

Dean sort of loses track after that.

*~*

It doesn’t matter how old he is when it ends. All that matters is Sam’s missing and Dean’s running out of time.

It’s a small graveyard, but small is relative when there are over a hundred plots where the ghoul might have stashed his brother. Sonnova bitch took a shotgun blast to the skull rather than tell Dean where to look. Over the years, he’s gotten good at channeling rage into focus; now, there’s only blind panic.

He’s lost Sam so many times, that you’d think it would have gotten easier to deal with over time. It’s only gotten worse. And this time would be the worst of them all, because if he’s not at least there to hold him while it happens... well, he’s got plenty of shotgun shells left.

There are no leads, no clues. He can’t even go the obvious route and look for any freshly dug graves because, A) it’s a historic site, meaning there haven’t been any funerals there in decades, and B) last night’s rainstorm would’ve washed away any evidence anyhow. Dean drops. He might just be sick. Every goddam plot looks the same, how can he figure it out if they all look the same—

“Stop,” the Sam in his mind orders. “Breathe. You can figure this out. Look again.”

Dean’s got nothing left to lose. He obeys.

A field of crumbling headstones. No obvious starting points like a tomb. Even though it’s a historic cemetery it’s not very well maintained. Obviously, nobody’s been around for a while, since most of the stones are overgrown with ivy—

Which is why the one grave in the west corner of the field with a single fresh rose on it is so goddamn odd.

Dean sprints to the grave. At some point while he digs, the shovel slips out of his grip; he claws at the ground with his hands. Every inch of him is covered in mud. He can taste it on his teeth.

He almost weeps when his fingertips strike wood. The ghoul didn’t even bother putting Sam in a real casket. It’s just a pine box, barely big enough to hold him—maybe he meant to grab Dean instead. Doesn’t matter. He rips it open and thinks he pulls off half a fingernail in the process but doesn’t give a shit because...

There’s Sam. Curled on his side and very, very still. Dean touches his face and it’s cold. Before the terror can completely overtake him, Sam blinks and coughs. He looks up at Dean and smiles.

“What took you?” he asks.

They’ve had a million close calls. The millionth and first isn’t so special.

And yet.

Sam.

Dean hauls Sam out of the box and into his arms. Sam doesn’t fight him and doesn’t seem to think there’s anything at all odd about the way Dean checks him over. Even laughs when Dean gets muck in his hair and on his face. He only gets quiet when Dean cups his face in his muddy hands.

There’s too much he wants to say and he can’t find a way the right way to say it. So he doesn’t. When Dean kisses him, Sam doesn’t seem surprised. “Why now?” he asks when they separate. Dean doesn’t have an answer. All he knows is that whatever he’s unearthed can’t ever be buried again now that it’s seen the sun. Dean’s not sure why he bothered trying to bury it in the first place.

#wincest #wincest wednesday #supernatural #spn #my fic

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spookymultimedia · 5 months

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Homesickness

After dropping out of college Cartman visits home after years of being away from it

I remember the morning I left for California. I was fresh out of highschool and had packed up all my things. I didn't tell anybody I was leaving, not even my Mom. The night before I left I had argued with her over something stupid. I called her a bitch and slammed my bedroom door. When I knew she was asleep I took my bags, stuffed them into my cheap minivan and hit the road. By 3 am I was out of Colorado. People called me, but it's dangerous to drive while on the phone, so naturally I ignored them all day long. I didn't call back either. They didn't matter. To my surprise Kyle had called me the most, but I didn't notice that for years. The last time I had seen him he had smacked me in the face and called me a fag after I tried to kiss him at a graduation party. I blocked his number. I left everything behind and didn't look back. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I had just stayed a little longer. I've lost so many years to LA. I wonder what Kyle had to say to me.

Los Angeles was massive. I was a small fish in a huge pond that had come to learn that the world didn't revolve around me. I came into the city with high ambitions. The plan was to get my business degree, get into the marketing industry and get rich and famous with my genius ideas. LA was nothing like home. It was nothing but hot pavement and smoke filled skies. The place smelled like piss. The classes were intense and full of rich students who came from parents who were agents or producers. Friendships didn't exist, only networking. No one spoke to you unless they wanted something from you. The weather was hot, it was like hell on earth.

The first year was lonely and frustrating. It felt like no one respected me. It turns out people didn't owe me anything. I had this rude awakening that I wasn't special, I was just like any other asshole trying to make it big. My confidence ran thin and nothing seemed to matter anymore. Business in LA was no place for a boy from a little mountain town in Colorado. I tried to persevere for one more year but my second Christmas there broke me.

There I was in my tiny little dorm room with the air conditioner on, eating a cold ham sandwich. Everyone else had family to visit while I had no one. I was watching TV when a Christmas commercial came on. There were four little boys building a snowman together and running inside to drink hot chocolate. The commercial was about Duracell batteries, somehow. The commercial reminded me of home. I lost all composure and started crying. I just wanted to go home. I wanted to see the big white mountains in the sky again. I wanted to feel the cold again. I wanted to see the stars over the trees again. I wished I hadn't left at all. I needed to go home. So I called Kenny's house phone. I was lucky he picked up. I explained everything to him and headed home.

Kenny picked me up from the Airport and drove me back into town. A sense of nostalgia washed over me, the town looked just the same as I had left it. There was a new building or house here and there but it was just as I remembered it.

“Do you think my Mom will be happy to see me?”

Kenny blinked at me and cocked his head.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did- don't you remember?”

“Remember what? What happened?? Take me to my house!”

“But- Eric. It's-.”

“What?”

Suddenly I spotted the street my house was on.

“ Pull over!” I pulled out my old house key and rushed out towards home.

Kenny pulled over and tried to run after me without slipping on the ice. Oh gosh the cold air felt heavenly. The mountains were right where I left them. It was so good to be back home. I unlocked the door and-

“Mom!!” I cried out

The house was empty.

“Mom?” I called out with less enthusiasm. I hadn't seen this place empty since I was a baby. It looked like how we found it when I was only 3 years old and my Mom had just moved in. The walls were empty, there was an imprint of where the couch should be, and where that big fat TV was, and-

“Oh Cartman! It's so nice you could visit! How was California?” Rang out a familiar voice. I turned to see Kyle's Mom.

“Did. . .did she move away?”

Her smile dropped, “Oh Eric hunny, didn't you get the- oh you don't know! We tried to call you.”

“About what?” I walked outside to talk to her. Kenny stood behind me with a sad look on his face.

She stepped forward and grabbed my hands.

“Eric, sweetie, your Mom died two weeks ago.”

I stared blankly at her as my stomach dropped. At first I didn't react. I repeated the words in my head to try and understand them but they still left me confused.

“She was missing for a couple of days, and when we tried to call her or knock on the door she wouldn't answer. The police picked the lock to her house and let me check on her.” Tears flooded her eyes.

“What happened?” I mumbled, bewildered.

“I don't know, I found her in bed and she was dead. I didn't see any drugs or anything that could have killed her. It's like she just died in her sleep.”

“Oh.” Was all that could come out of me. I felt completely numb at that moment. All the sunshine in me was gone. I came back here to be happy but everything I was coming back to wasn't there.

“Are you alri-”

“Oh well look who came back in town!” A voice squawked out from behind me. I turned around and regretted it. It was none other than Mr.Garrison. I couldn't believe he was still breathing. I wish he wasn't.

“Hello Mr.Garrison.” I mumbled

“How was California? Huh?”

“I dropped out.”

“Oh so you quit!?” He chuckled harshly. He leaned against his cane and cackled like a fucking hyena. I glared at him.

“Yes I quit ok!! I'm a fucking good for nothing quitter! Are you happy!!!”

“ I told you, you weren't cut out for California!! You really thought you were somethin’ huh? You just thought you could just pack up your things, go to Cali-fucking-fornia like all the other dumbass liberals and make your dreams come true!? Well guess what! The world doesn't revolve around you bigshot!!”

He stabbed his finger at my chest. I winced and growled.

“You ain't shit Eric Cartman. And you'll never amount to anythin. I was like you once you know, a hot shot. Serves me right for thinkin mountain town hicks like us can get famous. You're best bet at gettin on television is becoming a fat-ass r*tard*d

hoarder for everyone to point and laugh at.”

I shoved him to the ground and punched him.

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!” I screamed and hit at him hoping I'd knock his brains out.

I attempted to choke him out but Kenny ripped me away from him. He grinned at me as blood fell down his nose while Ms.Broflovski helped him up.

“Hit a nerve there didn't I?” He taunted and chuckled. I ran inside and ran back into the empty house. I took a moment to breathe before I sat down and stared around at the room quietly, trying to remember how the place had looked. I thought about the buzz of the TV and the cheap ass cakes I ate every day. I glanced at the kitchen. In my mind I remembered the smell of freshly baked cookies and bacon. It was weird, all my good memories about my Mom were about food. I would watch her cook so I could remember to do it on my own when she was too drunk to cook food for me. Well, when I put it that way it sounded sad, but the food was good. Was that it? Just food and treats. Was there anything else to our relationship? Everything else I felt about her was resentful.

I looked upstairs and walked up. I went into her room and looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary. No suicide note. No drugs. No alcohol. Not a single thing that could have caused her to die. I hated the answer. It was just unsatisfying. She just died for no fucking reason. How lame is that!?? I glanced at the closet where I knew the sex toys were. I left the room before my brain could linger on the upsetting memories I had buried away. It was better not to think about it.

I walked to my room, it was empty. Those assholes gave away my childhood toys!! My Clyde frog! My mega men. My sock puppet. It was gone and all that was left was this empty shell of a room. I looked at my door, playing back the night I left. I remembered the last thing I said to her.

“Eric, are you sure you want to leave for college?? You could wait a little while, you're still young.”

“Stop trying to guilt me into staying at home with you!!”

“Don't raise your voice at me!”

“Then stop treating me like a fuckin baby!! You're so afraid of being by yourself it's fucking pathetic!!”

“Eric- please-”

“JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LITTLE BITCH!! I'LL DO WHATEVER I WANT!!” I slammed the door in her face and ignored her crying.

I'll never get to talk to her again.

She's dead and the last thing I did was call her a bitch and slammed a door at her face. God I'm an asshole.

I walked back to the living room in a tired daze,Kenny looked at me with those big hazel eyes of his. I fell to my knees and couldn't handle it all anymore. I curled up on the floor and choked out into tears. I sounded pathetic. I felt like I was a 10 year old kid crying and kicking on the floor because he didn't get what he wanted. I was 10 years old again, throwing a fit. I wanted to go back. I didn't do my childhood right. I want it back!! I want my Clyde frog!! I want my Terrance and Philip!! I want Chef!!! I want my Cheezy Poofs and my Snacky Cakes!!! I want my Swiss Colony Beef log and Christmases with presents and snow and food. I WANT MY MOM!! I fucking hated her but at the same time I wanted more than anything was crawl into her lap and cry until she hugged me and fixed everything.

But she didn't come back. She would never come back. I took it all for granted and now I was stuck here to face being an adult. I felt Kenny pull me into his arms and squeeze me tight. I hid my face in his shoulder and cried for an hour. I couldn't tell if I was grieving or tired. I felt like a tired little baby in need of a nap. So that's what I did. I fell asleep in Kenny's arms and dreamed about her. In my dreams she was making chocolate buttered waffles and everything was okay. I didn't want to wake up. But I would have to eventually.

#south park #south park fanfiction #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski #sheila broflovski #mr garrison #liane cartman #r slur

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bloogers-boogers · 1 year

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Kyle Brofloski/Eric Cartman (SP fic)

('What's up with the fatass?')

/Devious melancholy/ part 2

'Wait? You think I'm gay because I'm from south park?'

'Well duh, everyone from south park is gay'

Slight warning ⚠️ just warning yah that's all, these two deranged characters will get together somehow but they will trust me, they will.

~~~~

Cartman inspected the apartment his mother rented, it wasn't bad, not as spacious though, but it'll do for now.

He was grasping the place, the town.. everything seem so lame, he couldn't expect any less from North Park but he'll suck it up for money.

Once they have enough money saved he'll make his mother moved them back to South Park. That was his plan; receive the money, get rich and stop being poor finally living the luxury he deserves, and ofcourse, brag his success to Kyle.

He beamed as he looked at the window contemplating everything he needed to do, to get the plan going. He made sure his mom woke up early because he wasn't risking her to make herself look like a incompetent employee on her first day of work, because he knew she had taken some crack last night before getting out from South park the effects of it just hit harder before going to bed, he fucking hates it so much, he was damn lucky she didn't crash the moving van on the way there. Luckily she wasn't required to do any drug test or both would've been screwed.

He never understood why teens his age were into that crap neither did he understood the adults, or Kenny. He just knew they made everyone stupid afterwards, well, more stupid then they already were.

After pushing his mom outside, practically just shoving her outside before slamming the door and setting his game up on the tv.

He played for like an hour before he reluctantly decided to go outside and see what he'll have to handle for a couple of months.

Everthing seemed so— rich? South Park's biggest accomplishment was having a whole's food in town while North Park had state winning champions working at some McDonald's drive-thru.

In less words, everything looked so 'posh', one of the disadvantages there was its weather; it wasn't cold or atleast to a temperature he was already use to, it was the opposite. For what he had searched it was stated to be one of the hottest places in Colorado, it would only snow just at the end of the year, which is insane. He can't imagine not walking to a almost daily snowy white path, stomping hard on the areas that seem to be deeper in depth cause he just liked the feeling of being sunk in like some wormhole, or making snowmen with his friends.

So there he was, complaining as he walked in the heated weather, it was insupportable he felt himself dragged his feet as his sweat poured down like rivers up his face; like melting snow on a sidewalk, the irony.

Unnoticeable passing by some neighborhood as he craved for water, panting duo the excess warmth in his body and the heavy breathing he was making, maybe he should take off his winter coat? He grasped some air as he took it off sighing as he felt a pin of weight let loose, feeling dizzy he leaned himself against some bench near the crosswalk trying to avoid fainting, now sitting down while holding on to his chest.

Seconds later he was tapped in the forehead with a water bottle, he looked up to curse who ever did that but his mouth went straight flat.

It was a North Parker but seemingly his age, so far he's only encountered old folks, but this one, he was wrinkle free, full of youth and had that innocent looking spirit somewhat spread around him. He was blonde with green eyes, kinda handsome for a dude but looked like a total geek.

"You're not from around here aren't you?," He asked, gesturing his bottle for he to grab it.

He reluctantly grabbed it, crisscrossing he wasn't about to be mugged or something, but shrugging it off immediately as he began drinking it. Stranger danger his ass.

"I'm from South Park, I just moved here, nerd," he commented in his usual banter.

The boy wince seemingly annoyed by the name hesitated in just walking away or indulge further in the conversation.

"You're from south park?," he repeated with a cringed expression as he asked, "no wonder I didn't recognize such a fat piece of crap in our town," he retorted with a similar tone he had use when he mocked him.

"Aye! Who do you think you are!? gaywad pussy licker!," he screeched out, gripping on to the bottle he was holding.

"Everything alright, Jackson?," another boy chimed in as some other boy walked beside him.

"I just found ourselves a South Parker," he stated mockingly.

"No way," the jock looking kid said bewildered, "you come from that crappie ass town?," he laughed dryly.

Cartman frowned, "shut the fuck up you mother fuckin' no good pussy lickin' hippies!," he cursed out loud, pointing out the reggae lover looking dude.

"See? This is why Shart park always stays behind, so stuck up in that common bigotry of yours it doesn't let you guys evolve," the jock stated casually, with a smugly smirk. His group of friends laughing beside him.

"Apparently he just moved here," geek boy informed the jock cunt.

"Wooow," the boy said in a sarcastic way, "that'll mean you'll finally be able to evolve from a shit stain to a fart."

The group laughed as he finally got up and pointed accusing to them.

"This is why you're all prestigious little douches in our category!," he exclaimed before storming off forgetting he had left his coat in the bench.

He heard from behind a 'good thing we aren't looking to be categorized from undeveloped pigs,' and with that he went off home, regretting going outside.

It had become dark, now resting in his couch as he layyed in a bored exaggerated manner. He really wanted to play video games with Kenny but he knew that poor piece of crap was still working a shift at those hours and he knew Butters wouldn't be able to do so either as he remembered two days ago he had commented he was grounded for a week. He sighed heavily contemplating to call either Stan or Kyle bothering them to make himself laugh.

But he turned over to look at the door as there was some banging coming from it.

He groaned annoyed as he walked to open it, "what?," he immediately spat dryly half way opening the door.

And his gaze landed to those familiar green marbled eyes he had previously seen that afternoon.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Did you follow me you creeping stalker!?," unironically being a stalker himself, he questioned offended.

The boy frowned shoving his coat to his chest harshly, startling him.

"Just being a good civilian here, lardass," he commented before huffing, as he took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up.

"You smoke!?," he asked baffled, he's never seen a nerd smoke before.

"Yeah, so?," the blonde asked incredulously.

"Didn't know geek boys could smoke," He smugly teased.

The boy just huffed as he roll his eyes, mumbling 'South Parkers,' before eyeing him up and down.

"So are you going to study in North park middle-school?," he asked more curious, puffing his cigarette some more, purposely blowing the smoke on his face making the other cough.

"Kinda," Cartman shrugged in response, wincing by the smell emitted.

"I'm Jackson btw, just for you to remember who targeted you first," He remarked as he stomped on his cigarette putting it out, dragging his hands inside his pockets, "what's yours, fatboy?."

"Aye! I ain't fat you piece of shit!," he blurted out, feeling quite some familiarity in the whole ordeal, "Eric, I'm Eric Cartman."

°°°°

After that 'splendid' encounter with geek boy, his day went to an end, beginning the next day as he was preparing himself to be dropped off at his new school, he stopped in the new bus point he was given and waited to be picked up. He sighed contemplating the new possibilities, new faces, friends, teachers. It's gonna be hard to adapt. But he was Eric T. Cartman, nothing is impossible for him.

He spot the bus half way, heavily breathing he gripped on his backpack.

Entering, the students there just glanced at him indifferent and judgmental, as if he were some weird bug. He sat in some empty seat in the back and heard a couple of students gasped and whispering.

'What was all that about?'

He took out his phone, carelessly about the constant glances at him, texting Kenny about joining on a server that night to play some game.

"Hey, faggot, da fuck are you doing in our seat?."

('Fag' sp canon definition n. 1. An extremely annoying, inconsiderate person most commonly associated with Harley riders. 2. A person who owns or frequently rides a Harley.)

He glanced up from his screen and visualize the jock kid and his stupid hippie group.

"Oh? This seat yours?," he said in a mocking tone, "don't see your name on it whore cummers," he blurted out as he now rubbed his ass all over 'their' seat taunting.

"Tsk, this dimwit," the red head mumbled to his friends.

He then sat next to him intentionally pushing him against the window both other boys tagged in apparently trying to trap him and suffocate him as they squished him forward the window.

"Goddammit!," he winced out trying to loosen there grip. The group of friends just howled in laughter.

"Admit you suck and piss off, southie," the jock kid stated as he leaned his body on him more.

"Over my dead fucking body, dick head!," he screamed slamming his fist up his nuts.

"¡OWW!," he squirmed in pain, reddened face by the embarrassment and ofcourse the agony pain that raised in his nutcrackers, "we got ourselves a fierce one," he stated still holding on to his balls as he winced his eyes shut.

Both boys tried gripping on him but he moved forward scooping himself over to the front seat shoving off some other students as he was chased around the bus from both geek boy and hippie shit. Jackson grabbed him from the leg as he failed attempting to get out from a window gripping on his body against his.

"Got him," He said grinning, as he swooped his body left and right attempting to make him seem like he were dancing even though it was clearly forced. Like a puppeteer and his puppet.

"Let me go, asshat!," He whined trying to lessen his grip, but couldn't. His strength reminded him so much of Kyle's, looking like he wouldn't bat your shit but was totally the opposite when provoked.

"Hmm," He hummed in a fake contempt, nuzzling his perky nose against his neck causing him to shiver by the touch, "what do you think, Stewart?," the boy asked the jock.

As he was finally recovering himself, passing through the walkway up to him, he punched him hard in the stomach receiving a 'hmph!' In return.

"That he isn't as bad as we thought he'd be for some southie," he smugly stated making the trapped boy arched a brow confused.

°°°°

"This is Hershey," Stewart gesture the hippie, who just waved casually, "my best friend Jackson," he continued presenting themselves before stepping inside school grounds. The blonde geek acting like he hasn't already presented himself before.

"What's yours, south bitch?," Hershey now chimed in expectantly.

"I'm Eric," he responded unbothered, as he glance at the huge building. If you were to compare this school to South Park's you wouldn't even see his town as a school.

"We can show you around," Jackson suggested with his hands inside his pockets.

"And when he says 'we' he means 'him' I have to go see Gigy at cheerleader practice, peace," Stewart casually waved off as he joined a couple of other douchbags who were also heading to the gymnasium or field, he wasn't sure exactly.

"Me too, I have to meet up with Jeannie for cleaning the courtyard before class starts," Hershey waved off heading another direction, "don't get lost, dog park," he lastly said before running off in a mischievous manner.

"Aye!," he grumbled out, but was left unheard.

Well, Jackson still was awkwardly standing next to him averting his eyes to a building, then to some students walking by and then the ground.

"So— fatass, what's there to know about you?," he asked, continuously walking to the entrance.

He followed along him, "Aye! I ain't fat you stupid queermo!," he screamed out.

"How 'revolutionary'," he stated sarcastic, before glancing at him, "I'm the debate club leader, I like swimming and have two siblings."

Cartman contemplated his answer before nodding as he pouted out his own, "I was the team captain of the football team and was among the popular kids," he beamed out confidently.

"Haha sure you were," Jackson said taunting, immediately pointed out his bluff, "we know who you are, fatboy."

Cartman halted now looking at him attentively.

"You're the fat, narcissistic psychopath from town that feed his half brother his parents," he explained unfazed, "we know all about the shit that happens to your town on a daily it always becomes a huge fuss for all of us when it comes to you assholes," he shrugged, gesturing a locker.

"That's your locker, E-10 right?."

He nodded in response, uncertain if he'd be able to make friends after being so easily revealed, but why was he talking to him so casually if he already knew who he was and what he's capable of?

Neither brought that topic again as Jackson showed him around campus, it was quite big, the tour had to be cut in short until school ended. For his dismay the class he was assigned to didn't include either of the assholes he just met until third period being seemingly the class he shared Spanish with Stewart, beside him he either would had to wait until seventh period which he shared Biology with Hershey.

It's not like he gave a fuck but he wasn't familiar on being a 'new kid', not only that, but Jackson warned him about how people here weren't to found of people who came from South Park noneless people who were born there he called him a 'TP' at first he thought he called him toilet paper but apparently it was a slang of theirs to call South park visitors 'target parker'; which meant they'll trash them until they leave their town. He found it quite dramatic but then again, their own town has shooed city people away before cause they couldn't tolerate their kind.

It also made sense why the group of boys began trashing him when he first mentioned being from South Park, then reluctantly just acting normally once knowing he actually moved here. That still didn't give him a pass but they had gotten a liking to him very quickly for some reason he still can't grasp upon.

And as such he was targeted for being a complete 'southie' even the teacher bashed on him as he was the one to blurt him out to the class for coming from South park. The only friend he managed to make was in his second period, his name was Jamie Hutson; a seemingly naive freckled boy, brown hair with braces who was from New York. He was pretty chill with the fact he was a 'tp' actually he seem to have 'pity' of him for coming out from a town like that. But when he meant 'seemingly' it's because he looked like that, but was a complete jerk to everyone displaying a false attitude infront of teachers being a A+ student but immediately flipping switches bullying some classmates there like an bigoted.

He actually felt grateful that it seem he had been taken lightly being called slurs and some bigotry comments compared to a red head kid that hanged in some wall hanger by his underwear.

"So, what's your socials, shart-fart?," Jamie approached, resting his elbows in his desk as he beamed innocently.

He huffed, "call me shartfart again, asshole, I dare you!," he threatened almost falsely, cause he really didn't want to bother on doing anything.

"Oh? You're gonna do something to me?," He smugly stated, chuckling, "so?," he extend his phone twoards him expecting for he to write his number.

He reluctantly typed his number down before huffing as he heard the bell rang and dashed off.

Maybe it'd be convenient to befriend the bully of their school?

He bumped in to geek boy again, who had cuss him out for not watching his way as he had dropped his books, he didn't bother helping out cause that's just how he is.

"Thanks for shit, asswipe," he spat bitter, as he tried organizing them in his arms.

"You're welcome, dearest," he teasingly said eying him, batting his eyelashes in a innocent manner.

He won't deny he was very appealing for the eye, he like how he shot back instantly every time he taunt back, those fierce eyes hooked him up like a fisherman's fish hook and his sly smirk was dazzling, smug, knowingly. He clearly has that competitive attitude, he seem smart, hot-headed and calculated, he seemed rival material.

Before he could even speak back he stopped him with his palm, "what religion do you follow?," he asked now intriguingly curious.

Jackson arched a brow skeptical, "why do you want to know, fatass!?," he questioned knowingly, a deep annoyed voice.

Cartman couldn't help but to smirk by that, oh, he's perfect.

"Y'know just?," he shrugged smugly, "it doesn't matter I'll figure it out," he winked as he began walking to his next class leaving the boy speechless.

That day he stalked his new 'friends', and found everthing he needed to know about them. He also figured out Jackson Hu was a no good, annoyingly boring cult member of a jehovah witness.

He smirked as he watched a picture of the boy on his laptop, resting his chin on his hand now contemplating all the new insults coming his way.

His third day in North park seemed to be flowing well, now hanging out with the three boys he first met really helped the attention fade away from him. But ofcourse, being part of the gang had requirements.

"I looked up your medias, fatboy and I'm quite disappointed," Stewart shaked his head in disapproval.

"What do you mean?," He asked as he munched on some chips indifferent, he loved his profile it had everything he liked, his personalized feed and pictures of his annoying friends.

"Well, it's.. too— your 'kind'," he stated thoughtful, cringing lightly.

"Yeah, if you want to be one of us, you have to start from zero," Hershey nagged, as he snapped his phone from his jacket opening his medias.

"Aye! What do you think you're doing, hippie!?," he protested, trying to grab his phone but was stopped by Jackson who only extended his arm blocking him from going any further.

"We have an image to keep clean, fatass. If anyone knew we let a stinky south parker in our group no one will take us seriously anymore," he explained.

"Might aswell clean you up from that stank your douche town left you," Stewart added as he crossed his arms now looking at his phone along with Hershey.

"But the whole school knows I'm from South Park!."

"Yeah, but we figured if we take all that stank away we could cure you from your disease," Stewart explained disinterested.

"I ain't sick you motherfucker!," he blurted out angry as he watched how the ginger typed rapidly on his phone.

"Here," Hershey gave back his phone, "now just add your details and will add you back. No south parkers, man," he pointed out seriously.

"Not even Kenny!?," he screamed baffled.

The group looked confused unknowingly and shrugged indifferent of his protests.

"I changed your password and email from your previous so you can't get in, just security majors," the ginger added before taking out his phone, "done, added."

His other friends did the exact same thing adding him back.

He sighed as he looked at his now boring empty profile, all his years worth of work being drained back down, his followers, his posts his reels. This sucked ass.

The sacrifices he has to do for keeping up a few months in this hell of a shit town.

°°°°

A week in, and he's been blending well in the north park group. He was actually enjoying his stay and was ACTUALLY learning new things.

A requirement also to be seen as part of Stewart's group was to have atleast a average 8.5 grading in each class he took! So he forcefully had to pay attention and STUDY, another was to be atleast in a club and practicing a sport. 'Why not kick me in ball while you're at it, dickwad!,' is what he blurted out as he was told, 'Shut the fuck up, lardbutt! Those are the rules. You either follow or leave your pick!,' is what he had told him.

He thought it'd be impossible but he actually managed after three deadly dreaded days. Jackson even offered to help him out studying, which he found nicely convenient, alway offering himself to go study at his place or at lunch. He was okay with it cause he figured out the boy was loaded and had the best of snacks.

'That's not how the ginger gene works, fatass!' He remembered his previous arguments, 'It so is, you dumb jehovah witness! I know, trust me I'm an expert,' he defended his theories.

Kyle was ginger, Scott and his dad we're ginger, even, and as much as he hates to admit it, he was half ginger. So he knows damn well his people, unfortunately.

It was pretty much heated like that with Jackson, he liked it though. It turned a spark in him.

"So— is that Kenny dude your boyfriend or something?," Jackson asked outta the blue as they headed to his place.

"What? Kenny!?," he said bewildered, "why would you think he'd be my boyfriend!? I ain't gay!."

"You aren't?," he asked looking now incredulous.

"No!?," 'why the fuck would he think that!?' He thought offended.

"Well, you are from South park," he shrugged in a answer.

Did they really see them as some gay faggots?

"Wait? you think I'm gay cause I'm from South Park?," he asked baffled, eyeing him up and down.

'And they called 'us' stupid.'

"Well duh, everyone from south park is gay."

"I'm not gay, asswipe."

Jackson halted, shaking his head in disappointment, "you don't have to feel embarrassed to be yourself, fatass. We are all very accepting and very opened minded," he rested his hand on his shoulder, ignoring his claims.

"That's bullshit, you guys are hypocrites, since I got here I've just been ridiculed for being born in South park," he explained somewhat not continuously contradicting his 'suspicions.'

Jackson slide his arms on his, gripping him lightly, "look, being gay is highly different than being a tp." He added, now caressing his left arm, "I always thought you were cute," he said playfully in a sultry voice.

He was left bewildered, his brain short-cirquited for brief seconds that felt like hours. Did he call him 'cute'?

Prev — Next

#south park #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #kyman #sp kyman #'What's up with the fatass?' fic #Cartman's 'first' little gay crush

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nebula-drcams · 2 years

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thundergoodspeed asked: [ SHARE ]

STAYING THE NIGHT PROMPTS || Accepting

[ SHARE ] sender is unexpectedly staying with receiver overnight, receiver insisted sender sleep on the bed while they take the floor but sender winds up insisting they join them in bed.

Colorado nights were getting far too cold, and of course it was just her luck to be out at the same time Gary was. Was he even wearing proper clothes for the freezing cold nights? Having let out a sigh, Nimue grabs him arm and yanks him in the direction she’s going. Somewhere WARM, away from the snow and freezing temperatures.

And of course, the closest place was her own home. She had told Gary to give her time to decide, but didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to be out here at such an hour for whatever reason.

Stopping in front of her house, she pulls her keys out and unlocks the door before turning back to grab his arm and pull him inside.

“I don’t want to know what you were thinking being out there in freezing weather but be glad you’re not a popsicle. You’ll be sleeping in my bed, only because I don’t have the guest bedroom prepared. I still have to wash the sheets. And before you ask. No. I will not be sleeping with you, I’ll either sleep on the couch or in my chair. Assuming I even sleep tonight. For now. I’ll make you some hot cocoa. Just, try not to knock anything over. Or make Salem angry.”

There is in fact, a little black cat staring right at Gary as she heads to the kitchen. It’s finnnee, don’t worry about it.

#thundergoodspeed #★ ►𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝓲𝓼◄ ⌠Nimue Umiko ⌡#★ ► 𝓥; 𝓐𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽 𝓐𝓷𝓮𝔀 ◄ ⌠ South Park; Final Space ⌡#★ ► ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏꜱᴍᴏꜱ ◄ ⌠ In Character ⌡#★ ► ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ♥◄ ⌠ Ask Answered ⌡#★ ► Qᴜᴇᴜᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ◄ ⌠Queue ⌡

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skyler10fic · 5 months

Text

Love at First Snowfall

By Skyler10

Summary:

Daisy's grumbling about having to share a snowy family vacation with another family in their cabin ends suddenly when she meets their gorgeous daughter. Love at first sight might not be real, but this is making a believer out of Daisy. Luckily for her, Carol is a confident woman who goes after what she wants. And what she wants is Daisy. Like the snow outside, these girls are falling hard and fast.

Based on this image prompt from @ficwip

Read on Ao3

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Daisy pulled her parka tighter as she trudged through the snow behind her parents. She was 25 but felt like a teenager, grumbling that snow was stupid and family vacations were stupid and blizzards blocking the driveway up to their cabin were especially stupid. It was cold, dark despite being only 6 p.m., and the groceries she was carrying from the convenience store in the village were threatening to break through their plastic bags. Plus, another family from the Air Force Officer’s Club was coming and sharing the cabin with them. Technically, the Coulsons were in side A and the other family was renting side B of the split duplex, but that side didn’t have any heating, so the three-bedroom three-bathroom side A half of the cabin would have to do for all six of them.

“Ughhhh,” Daisy groaned as they approached the cabin and discovered the other family had arrived. A burly man with a snow shovel was clearing the driveway for his wife to pull in their giant SUV. Another “ughhh” sounded from the driveway as the door on the far side of the SUV opened and slammed shut.

“Let me help!” a blonde young woman insisted to the burly man, who could only be her father.

“I told you to wait in the car,” he insisted. “Young ladies don’t need to be out in this weather.”

“Dad!”

The two stopped bickering long enough to notice Phil, Melinda, and Daisy approaching, likely given away by the sound of their boots crunching on the icy snow.

“Hey! I can grab some of those bags! Oh.” The blonde walked over, then exhaled a puff of white air as she saw Daisy up close.”Hi. I’m Carol.”

Her rosy cheeks, soft smile, and bright eyes charmed Daisy immediately. “God, please let her be queer,” Daisy prayed to the rainbow gods.

Carol’s mom turned off the SUV and got out to greet them, and introductions all around set the snowy week in motion.

“And here we are,” Daisy concluded the short cabin tour for Carol, who plopped her duffle bag on the unclaimed bed. Daisy’s bed, with a view out the window at the snow-draped forest, was already rumpled from the night before. “Um, I hope that dark pink duvet is okay. We washed both when I arrived yesterday, and I took the navy.”

“I like it.” Carol winked in a way that Daisy didn’t understand. “It suits us.”

“Sorry, what?” Daisy furrowed her brow, not following the reference.

Carol nodded to the bi flag sticker on Daisy’s laptop, sitting half-open on the bedstand. She then pulled out her phone and lit up the lock screen. A stylized lesbian flag appeared, complete with a stripe so dark pink it was almost maroon, just like the duvet Daisy pulled off the shelf.

So the sapphic goddesses did answer prayers.

Daisy cleared her throat. ��Oh! And do you have a girlfriend who is going to be jealous of us rooming together?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Carol answered with a wry smile. “And do you have anyone who—?”

“No! No,” Daisy clarified hastily. “I’m free. Free as a bird. Single as a … jingle? ANYWAY!” Daisy rushed to make her bed and sat down on it, then got up again abruptly, eyeing the door.

Carol strategically leaned against the doorframe, casually blocking Daisy’s escape. “My mom tells me you work at Stark Industries too? Shame I haven’t seen you before around the office. Then again, I’m up on the 10th floor with the rest of aerospace.”

“I… I mostly work from home, or, well, until recently I was in the New York office, but now, I’m not. I mean, I just moved back to Colorado. But I could be in the Denver office now more. Maybe visiting the 10th floor?” Daisy finished and blushed. She wasn’t used to being the flustered one. Usually she held all the cards, batting her lashes and pushing out her cleavage or wearing the perfect dress to make a man putty in her hands. But Carol Danvers was no man. This time it was Daisy fighting desperately for her cool-girl life.

“I’d like that. That is, if you’re not sick of me after this week,” Carol laughed in self-deprecation. “But I already know you’re a lot nicer to look at than any of the sweaty dudes up there. It’d be a nice change of pace.”

“I think there was a compliment in there?” Daisy laughed. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” Carol gave her a cheeky once-over to make the flirtation clear.

Daisy’s heart skipped. “You know that officers’ dinner gala thing our parents have to go to on Wednesday night at the ski resort?”

Carol rolled her eyes and her smile fell. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“What if we stayed here instead? Made dinner together and got to know each other better?” Daisy held her breath as she waited for an answer.

“Hell yes.” Carol sighed in relief. “I hate those things.”

The night of the gala, the girls got dressed up anyway after the parents left. They ate dinner by candlelight, after lying to their parents that they were too tired from skiing and just wanted a “cozy girls’ night in.” While their parents assumed they were watching trashy TV and heating up a frozen pizza in their PJs, they were really having their first date.

Though they had only known each other a few days, their chemistry was instant. Love at first sight might be a myth, as true love grows over time with emotional intimacy and investment, but desire at first sight is as real as the sudden blanket of snow on a winter morning, fresh and sparkling with possibility.

Sometimes that pure desire is tarnished with exploration, but for Daisy and Carol, it grew with each moment. By the end of the week, they were waking up with limbs entangled under the navy duvet, watching the snowfall replenish itself to brave the light of a new day.

#daisy johnson #carol danvers #aos #agents of shield #captain marvel #daisy x carol #carol x daisy #wlw #sapphic fic #femslash #lesbian carol danvers #bisexual daisy johnson #skywriting #family vacation au #roommates #snowed in #love at first sight #winter fic

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breakerwhiskey · 7 months

Text

082 - EIGHTY-TWO

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

(sigh) Alright, you sent me a message last night that just said “Santa Fe”. That’s fucking…

Well, I assume it means you want me to go to Santa Fe. Well, I am. I’m already here, actually. And not because of your message but because I was close and it’s November and I’d honestly rather be in New Mexico than Colorado, so.

I’m not even really a hot weather person, to be honest. I wasn’t raised in a hot climate, I’m not built for it. But the dryer and the warmer the weather, the easier the driving is. To a point, anyway. Too hot and driving becomes a misery.

(groaning) Ugh…I don’t know, Birdie, I’m—when I’ve talked to you lately, I feel like I can hear myself better. Like the words I’m saying are really landing in my ears and it’s all so….

I can feel myself being sanded away at the edges. Becoming less interesting, less engaged. Becoming a shell.

[click, static]

That was always my greatest fear with staying. That we’d become husks, living simply to stay alive and for nothing else. Harry seemed content to garden and cook and read and paint and I…

I just wanted to live, you know? Really live. Harry says that I’m just an adrenaline junkie who hasn’t done anything risky or stupid for years and I should just go jump in the lake in the middle of January because “what could be more adrenaline inducing than freezing to death?” but I think she’s wrong. It’s not…danger that I miss. Sure, my job had risks to it, but I was careful. I didn’t want to get caught. I didn’t get any thrill from the chase. I was never chased, actually, outside that one time and look at how that turned out.

I liked the unpredictability. Every job had new challenges and sure, new risks, but no one day was ever the same.

That’s what I miss. And lately, I can feel my days becoming the same, even if I’m in a different place. What happened in Estes Park wasn’t…good or fun but at least it was something different. And now I’m just right back where I was months ago, which is listening to someone else, following the directions of someone I’ve been forced to trust because of circumstance and it’s putting two things into clear focus:

I don’t want to passively live my life by someone else’s rules—not yours, not Harry’s.

And I don’t trust you.

[click, static]

#breaker whiskey #audio drama #episode #transcript #Spotify

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scarletkilometers · 1 year

Text

Unusual OC Associations

🌌Sigal🚂

Tagged by @bumblewarden

Tagging @guzmascanary @oneslimybastard and @roter-motor

Seasoning: Chipotle peppers

Weather: Hot and dry. Excellent weather for camping, putting aside that county-wide fire ban...

Colour: More of a color scheme, but black, pink, purple, and mint

Sky: The morning sky over her home ranch in Space Colorado, at the crack of dawn in the few tolerable hours of a day that will eventually become too hot to move.

Magic power: Kinetic energy charging a la Gambit

House plant: the Cowplant

Weapon: Shotgun (the Ol’ Reliable), Rocket Launcher (the Rapid-Fire Renovator), Flamethrower (the Mistake)

Subject: Engineering, not that she’d ever go to class

Social media: She’s a wolfpupy-esqe Surreal Twitter Presence. everyone thinks she’s just a really good shitpost generator but she’s actually just Like That

Make-up product: she doesn’t have a face. for humanstuck Sigal: holographic nail polish that immediately gets chipped and filthy.

Candy: Sour bubblegum

Fear: Bold of you to suggest she’s self-aware enough to even HAVE fears

Ice cube shape: Han Solo in Carbonite Novelty Molds

Method of long distance travel: Road-tripping with her asshole friends in her Big Stupid Space Train

Art style: If textile arts count, then embroidery. Look, even with FTL she has a lot of time to kill between destinations and roses and bunnies don’t appear on vests and ponchos of their own accord. Fuck off.

Mythological creature: Bugs Bunny

Piece of stationery: impractical 50-pack of sparkly gel pens

3 emojis: 🔫 🔥 ☄️

Celestial body: Blue giant star

#sigal #starbound #scarlet's ocs #memetown

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darcymariaphoster · 1 year

Note

Favourite scene in one of your fics? Any entertaining lines or just lines you particularly enjoyed?

So we'll go funny to one of my faves. Two of my favorite interactions never actually made it to the fic they were supposed to. But I will happily share them here.

(in reference to Denmark) "He mood swings harder than Colorado's weather, dude," Alfred mutters under his breath and Matthew snorts as they walk over.

and (in it's super basic form because I never got around to finishing it, clearly, and it's kinda silly but makes me chuckle every time I think about it)

Matthew: Salut. Comment allez-vous aujourd'hui, mademoiselle?

Alfred: .-.

Belle: *giggles* You’re fluent in French?

Matthew: Oui. I was bored and taught myself. (Mostly true, and then he took French in his sophomore year and is taking it in his junior year.)

Belle: Oh wow.

[insert a little bit of conversation]

Matthew: Au revoir.

Alfred: How do you even do that? You don’t even like women!

Matthew: That’s the point, yes. And everyone knows that women almost always swoon for French.

Alfred: *makes a face* Yeah, well, viva la fuck you.

And my serious, probably all time favorite scene I have ever written, I am sorry to say is not Hetalia. But will still share it because, like I said, it's my favorite. i need to step up my game for this fandom. lol

His mother snorted. “Of course not,” she snapped and folded her arms across her chest. “Do you believe that you’ll make it out there? In the real world? You’re still living in a fantasy, Abigail. You haven’t grown up at all and you want to go to Washington? New York? It’s time to give up the game. You don’t have a job and you’ll never get one if you keep acting the way you do.”

“It’s John!” he bellowed, his patience finally wearing out. She only looked mildly startled. “Just because I don’t fit into your definition of a person doesn’t mean you have any right to treat me like I’m not human! You’re half the reason I’d go to any of those places in a heartbeat! I’d rather be homeless in Oregon than live in this hellhole! You disregard how I feel and insist that I’m just some braindead drama queen! Do you honestly believe I enjoy getting taunted for being who I am? That I like waking up every morning to knowledge that I’ll probably end up getting shoved to the ground by numerous other kids at school?” His mother’s expression was changing, becoming more uncertain as John exploded, telling her all the things he’d kept quiet from everyone. “Because I hate it! I hate the stupid names they call me, all the threats they give me. I hate coming home and getting told that I’m a liar, I’m just pretending. I hate talking to you and feeling completely invalidated because it’s one thing to be called a girl by all those kids at school, get told that I’m just being dramatic -- it’s far more painful to have my own mother tell me those things, and tell me that I’m not good enough to be a real person! I don’t care where I go anymore! So long as it’s far away from here!”

He stormed from the kitchen, leaving his mother stunned, as he went to the sitting room and pulled on his shoes. He threw open the front door, slamming it shut behind him, and took off.

#my shit #asks #fanfiction asks #I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG #hope you don't mind the added scene that isn't actually hetalia fandom #thank you so much for the ask!

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imperial--orthodoxy · 1 year

Note

You know the drill:) :) :)

1-50 weird asks and GO

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

I don't know if "comfort" is the right word, but right now it's probably Ichigo Kurosaki from Bleach and...Boromir from LOTR. Ichigo is currently my favorite main character period and Boromir is....well. He's a deeply flawed character that tries and fails and tries again and manages to do good at the end of his life and I hope I'm able to do the same before I die.

lighter or matches?

I'm a certified pyromaniac, so the answer is yes. I prefer lighters for cigarettes and cigars though, whereas matches, I like launching them off of the lighter strip.

do you leave the window open at night?

Up north, open. Down here...closed. Permanently closed. I hate the weather down here.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? All of them. Skinwalkersmustdieskinwalkersmustdieskinwalkersmu

what color are your eyes?

Blue/Grey

why did you do that?

You think *I* know???

hair-ties or scrunchies?

...niether

how many water bottles are in your room right now? ....none

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

Hot tbh

would you slaughter the rich?

some of them

favorite extracurricular activity?

back in school it was band tbh and I can and should be bullied for it

what kind of day is it?

today was a long day at work unfortunately

when was the last time you ate?

just a couple of bars when I got home since it's a fasting day

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

yes

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

(sorta, not to term yet)

can you drive?

Yes, ignore my friends that say I drive like a maniac I am completely fine I am not an adrenaline junkie I am not -

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

near sighted

what hair products do you use?

whatever is on the shelf. I used to use old spice but I think it's been giving me a reaction lately

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

....I don't think you want me to do that

do you say soda or pop?

yes

something you’ve kept since childhood?

a lot of my books tbh. some of those are in uh...not great shape to my shame

what type of person are you?

I am a piece of shit

how do you feel about chilly weather?

winter supremacy or die

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

sniping off politicians

Ideally if there's not a lot of light pollution I do love looking at stars

perfume/body spray or lotion?

spray, since I'm lazy

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

only all of them

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

Like....5?

do you wear a mask?

nyet

how do you like your shower water?

warm

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

church hymns tbh

do you have a favorite towel?

nah

the last adventure you’ve been on?

Hmmmm....good question. The last big one was the honeymoon to Colorado

is there a song you know every word to by heart? They're all metallica songs but several

what’s your timezone?

Central US

how many times have you changed your url?

a stupid amount of times

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

Not you yet, but all of my best friends from high school are still my friends now with 3 of them even being my groomsmen

a soap bar that smells good?

I...don't know actually lmao

do you use lip balm?

nyet

did you have any snacks today?

yes

how do you take your coffee?

depends - if it's typical shit coffee, cream and sugar. If it's good coffee, black

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

Bleach Brave Souls, does that count?

what’s your take on spicy foods? I love them

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

*REDACTED* nice try FBI

can you remember what happened yesterday? More or less!

favorite holiday film?

This is cheesy as fuck, but probably The Polar Express or Year Without a Santa Clause

what was the last message you sent?

I think it was me letting my coworker to let me know if I could do anything for him since his mother passed away

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

Uhhhhhhhh....I think it was as a teenager from my Grandfather, or wine from my mother

can you skip rocks?

I can't, unfortunately. I ain't gonna lie, I'm kinda retarded

can i tag you in random stuff?

No you fuck - OF COURSE YOU CAN

ALSO YOU'RE LUCKY I LOVE YOU

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canyouseeme13 · 5 months

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Plans got cancelled thanks to shitty winter weather so we ended up at the bar we both work at for my best friends birthday. Bosses were supposed to be going to Colorado for 2 weeks, but their flight was cancelled and tickets to rebook were stupid outrageous so now we don't get a break from their bullshit. I have however gotten all the same free shots as best friend so there's that.

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dano-only-fics · 2 years

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Brian (Fast Food Nation) - HCs

SFW headcanons for Brian <3 GN!Reader

Brian definitely listens to Nu Metal.

I would love for him to be into The Cure and Slowdive but lets be honest, that guy is 100% a Limp Bizkit fan with absolutely no irony. He genuinely thinks they are the epitome of cool.

Of course it is cool, but like, Brian is absolutely unaware of the fact people don't always think Slipknot is the coolest band to be into.

He definitely loves Beastie Boys too.

Surprisingly, he does shower pretty regularly.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't wash his clothes enough.

Brian doesn't even bother with a sniff check.

(He's low-key kinda stinky)

You would definitely end up intervening.

"Brian I love you but you genuinely stink, man."

You two would be the dorky ass couple who were always bullying each other.

He tells you you're annoying on a daily basis, and you tell him he's a total loser.

Holding hands? Hells no. Noogies? Absolutely.

You make a pretty feral couple. You're both sarcastic as hell, lazy, with no respect for any kind of authority.

Stereotype teenage delinquents.

He acts like an asshole when you're around others, both of you just annoying the hell out of one another.

When you two are alone in his room, it's a different story.

He likes it when you just lie on top of him, giving him the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and just feel your weight on him.

He lies with his head between your thighs, too, letting you play with his hair. You put little braids in it and he always ruffles them out afterwards. He likes to put his hands around your thighs and squeeze them gently.

Your first kiss was him was awkward.

He absolutely leaned in with his tongue out and his eyes half shut.

You did an "Ew, dude, what the fuck?"

He was so embarrassed, his face went hella red and he was devastated, thinking you were flat out rejecting him.

He had pretty much convinced himself into leaving Colorado forever when you placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down so you could kiss him properly instead.

He was awestruck, but probably played it off with a mean joke.

Brian probably smokes weed, and if you're into that then you probably do it together a lot.

You probably drive out into the woods together and go find a nice spot to sit out and smoke. If you're walking through the woods then you would both throw fir cones at each other, turning it into a ruthless competition. You wouldn't even remember who struck first.

You'd hit him really hard in the back with one as he was picking more up and he'd drop them all and run at you, laughing, picking you up fast before you could get away and kissing you, your feet still off the ground.

(He's actually soft as hell.)

You'd both sit at the edge of a quarry and talk for ages about stupid hypotheticals and people you hated.

(He acts like he doesn't care, but he knows everything you like and don't like. He knows your personality so well and you always make him laugh.)

If the weather's good, neither of you would be against going for a swim in the blue quarry water.

Brian would definitely have to be convinced by you first.

You light fires and throw cans on them to watch them explode, sitting by it as the sun goes down and it gets dark.

If you get cold he might let you huddle into his side and wrap his big black hoodie over your shoulders.

When there's no one around to witness his gooey behavior, he'd wrap your hands in his and blow on them to warm them up.

Brian always seems to be warm, even when it's cold out.

At work, when Andrew makes a comment about you, Brian is immediately defensive. He really doesn't like anyone acting sleazy towards you.

That never stops him from making explicit jokes when both of you hang out with friends though.

This man is not above making a blowjob joke in front of all your friends.

Usually met with a "Ew, Brian. That's gross."

They're used to it though.

In public you two are just like best friends, messing around and arguing over dumb shit. Everyone knows you're dating him, but you're both kind of losers so no one pays much attention.

You borrow his band t-shirts all the time, provided they're clean.

You both wear matching string bracelets.

The most PDA either of you do is when you're hanging out with friends around the bleachers, one of you will lie with your head on the others lap while everyone talks.

He loves you to pieces. He does tell you, during the quiet moments when you just get to be happy and in love.

Basically, Brian is a sweetheart pretending to be an angsty asshole.

#paul dano brian #brian paul dano #i love this so much #brian brainrot #paul dano x reader #paul dano #paul dano x you #danonation #dano nation #paul franklin dano #fast food nation (2006)#fast food nation #fast food nation brian #brian fast food nation #brian wilcox x reader #headcanon

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blunderpuff · 4 years

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could i pay someone to weave in my ends for me, pls?

#knitting #i finished my cotton summer top WEEKS ago but... there's like... 8 ends to weave in....#so it's just been sitting on my couch and waiting for me... meanwhile it SNOWED two days ago #oh yeah btw it fucking SNOWED on SEPTEMBER 8!!!!! last week it was pushing 96 degrees and then two days ago it snowed #bro i hate colorado weather #fsck this stupidass state with its stupidass mountains and its gunsucking rednecks and its premature unseasonable snow #meanwhile this halloween sweater i'm knitting is going to have a thousand ends to weave in bc it's stranded colorwork #and i was working with 3 colors total but only 2 at a time... and the fscking white yarn (which was already cursed) kept sneaking out #to hang on the OUTSIDE of the sweater and i was too stupid to notice it so then the white yarn was like... 4 rows down #so i snipped it (cry) and pulled it through to the back and restarted it on another row which means twice the white ends to do (scream)#if this sweater ends up too small... god help me i'll do some diy liposuction or titectomy to get my huge badonkadongers into this thing #long tags #the secret life of merry mac

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passivenovember · 2 years

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Thinking about the moment when Steve pushes Billy’s hope for the future straight off what has always seemed like a cliff that’ll plummet their relationship to its brain splattered death when the rock crumbles out from underneath them, but feels more like the first time he ever put mittens on his hands during winter when it happens.

Maybe Steve falls asleep on his chest when they’re supposed to be at work.

And the idea’s been floating past the screen in Billy’s mind for months now, flickering like a surge of power when he catches Steve doing something stupid, like resting a hot iron on the fabric of his favorite button down shirt because he just has to eat a bowl of midnight cereal while he gets everything ready for the morning. Or when Steve does something sweet, like the one time he bought Billy a succulent and planned to leave it at that, but one turned into another, then a lilac sapling, and a bonsai tree, and now they have a garden that’s quickly turning into a farm.

A dog, maybe. A chicken or two named Pat and Charles. And a half-built goat pin Steve’s confident Billy will get used to just like he did with everything else. Max gets the keys when they travel west for The Wildflower festival.

That week long excursion in Crested Butte, Colorado is supposed to be a good opportunity for their herbalism business. Networking, buying, and learning from some of the best in the game. They have a system, a spotless magic show to get where they want to be at half the price, and it’s successful enough to fund those stupid goats Steve won’t stop crying about. Steve charms the vendors into lowering their prices on everything from seedlings to sprouts to full apple trees, and Billy gets to haul the wheelbarrow around town and fuss over his new babies once Indiana calls.

It goes well for about two seconds. Their trailer is a third full by Wednesday, but then Steve gets distracted when he spots a festival brochure at breakfast, hypnotized by all this place has to offer.

The hiking, flower arranging, wreath making. Not to mention the cooking classes, where Steve can learn to bake apple pie that will have any one of the kids seeing shrimp colors, and Billy knows he should be more stern about the whole thing. Before leaving Indiana they swore to keep each other in line. Tethered to the ground and steady as a weathered oak, like always, but Billy gets caught up, too.

In the mountains. And the way it’s warm enough in the day to wear cutoffs but chilly enough when the sky goes dark that they can sleep out under the stars without having to worry about mosquitos.

It reminds him of home.

So on Friday he convinces Steve to skip the haggling and go on a picknick with him, all the way at the top of the hill overlooking the village.

Steve’s on board at first but he doesn’t wear the hiking boots Billy rented for him, so thirty minutes up the side of the hill he's ready to turn back.

Billy tries to be patient, seeing as how Steve’s lungs aren’t built for altitudes higher than sea level, but he’s not a saint. They snap at each other, and when Billy turns back to see Steve crying from the foot pain, he lifts Steve onto his back without saying a word.

It sucks.

He can only carry Steve for five minute bursts at a time, and the compass Steve borrowed from Dustin digs a hole in the back of his thigh every time he has to hoist their weight over a rock.

By the time they make it to the top of the hill, Steve collapses on the nearest spread of fluffy, pink dotted grass and drinks all of his water, never minding the trip that will come later.

Billy saddles in next to him and they eat their sandwiches in silence, each wrapped up in their terrible mood.

When lunch is over, Billy stands, dusting his hands on his pants and gearing up to tell Steve he’s gotta soldier through the journey back to the village, but Steve just lays back and stares up at the soft, feathery clouds with a, “It’s so pretty. Let’s stay a while.”

Billy’s sour mood evaporates the second he gets situated on his back and Steve, humming softly to himself, slides closer and closer until his head is pillowed on Billy’s chest.

Billy doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but a while later Steve worms onto his belly, practically laying on top of Billy as if he were a human mattress, and he starts snoring.

Loud.

And drooling, just a little, on Billy’s muscle shirt, and.

If you had told Billy, at seventeen, that someday he’d own a spot of land with his high school arch-nemesis, and that they’d travel the world together, and that Billy would play the role of everything from an elevator to a pillow to a rain coat for the likes of Steve Harrington--

Billy would’ve proposed on the spot. Because he’s always wanted this with Steve. With Big Bambi Brown eyes, and no one else.

He can’t hold it in anymore.

“Hey,” He says softly, nudging Steve awake.

Steve snorts, arms tightening and pulling Billy half an inch closer before he hums a confirmation in a key that says you have three seconds before I fall asleep again.

Billy looks out over the mountains. “Would you marry me. If I asked?”

Steve nods, his nose rubbing soft on the collar of Billy’s tee-shirt.

He starts snoring again.

Billy imagines the world turning. The globe, with America and Colorado and Crested Butte and Billy, a camera zooming in on a spot of luck.

#harringrove #soft boys being soft #maybe I want them to have their cottage core life together okay #back off #no beta we die like men

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roughcas · 2 years

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Cute Hotch moment?

Fem!Reader x Aaron Hotchner

Word count: around 800?

You were restless, tossing and turning on this crappy hotel mattress for what seems like hours.

You'd think spending the winter season in Colorado on a case would be cute, snow, moment. You, Aaron, snow, what could go wrong?

Oh yeah, maybe the fact he doesn't like you the way you do him. Sure, he's the closest to you out of the whole team, but you want him more than closer. You want to be his.

He told everyone to leave the station, since the team wrapped up the case in ease. With the promising of leaving first thing in the morning.

Sighing and getting fed up with the clock taunting you with it's slow and antagonizing ticks, you slid on your shoes, not even bothering to dress up more from what you were already wearing.

A simple nightgown with one of your favorite colors on you, and socks. You grabbed your phone, and went out of the building.

The FBI pays well, and is well maintenenced, but like everything, they are some downsides. Such as, in the morning you guys will have to be the ones to brush of the snow. Or well, wait until it all melts in a few weeks.

The cold didn't bother you as much, since growing up in New York then completing your training in Ohio, you were used to harsh and rough weathers.

Hell, you and your friends decided to grill during one of NY's infamous blizzards.

So, you being the 'oh so great and selfless person', and the reason is not because you were completely restless, you decided you'd save everyone the amazing bonding experience of brushing snow off of the SUV's.

With one last quick glance at your phone, you saw it was only four-thirty-six. We all agreed to leave around six, so not like it was a huge time gap for more snow to build. The snow fall stopped crashing onto the cars by nine.

And the rest was mainly a blur, clearing off cars dressed in a 'Hey! Please give me hypothermia!' outfit, getting soaked in the snow.

Honestly, you didn't mind that much. The team has been getting too many stupid cases in California, New Mexico, and Florida. God, way too many for your polar-bear blubber.

Aaron was still up doing files. It was a miracle with how well he functioned for a man who never sleeps. His hotel room's window lined up very well where the SUV's were parked. And first, he thought his own mind was deceiving him.

Why, and who, is brushing snow off of them and at this hour? He then saw your hair; funny thing about people you lo-, care for, you can always just tell it's them. From their shoulders, height, walk, whatever it is. He knew it was you.

Concern and confusion plagued the man as he grabbed his blazer, slid on his shoes and went out there to see what you're doing. Well, obviously he knew what you were doing, but the more of why.

His feet dented the snow as he carefully made his way on over to you. You were on the last car. Literally, on it. Humming one of your favorite songs; he knows some of the melody just from how much you recite it.

"Y/n, what's going on?" He finally spoke up, his voice was as soft as the snow that's fallen on your knees, but still stern and demanding as how he is your boss, after all.

You felt your blood run cold at the fact you were caught in headlights like a deer near the edge of being plumished to past time. All though, that didn't sound too bad facing the fact your boss is watching your every movement.

"I, uh. Couldn't sleep? So figured I would help the team and save them the bore of doing this in the morning?" Your voice fell with more uncertainty then you'd like. Couldn't tell who you were trying to convince more with that one, you, or Aaron.

"Right. Well, I think you did enough. Come inside and warm up." The way his words were so simple, it painedbyou knowing it somehow, he somehow, gave you butterflies over everything little he does.

"Sir, I'm almost done. I can wait a couple of more minutes." "Aaron," He corrected me. "Aaron please. You're a close friend of mine, Y/n. Such is no need to be referring to me as sir outside of the field. You don't even need to call me it on the field, as well." Friend, right.

"S- Aaron, it can wait." "Why are you dressed like that?" "Like what?" "Cold. Y/n, I'm no Reid but I do know the disadvanatges of hyprotherima and dressing not to weather. Inside, now." Which you just looked at him. He saw your hesitation, "It's an order, Y/n." He reaches his hand to yours, guiding you off of the car, helping you down making sure you don't slip. Crazy how he makes you feel.

Removing his blazer, he placed it on your shoulders as he wrapped his arm around to pull you closer to him. Body heat, maybe?

He opens the door for you, fuck he really makes you swoon. "Coffee?" "Please!" He chuckles softly as he went over to the 24/7 bar the hotel had to offer.

"For you being one of my best agents, L/N, you're really stupid." He said as he hands you the coffee. He knew exactly how you have your coffee.

"Hey, I'm from New York with some Ohioan, in me. I don't get affected that much." "So is Morgan, I didn't see him out there in his lingerie." "I, uh." You mumble the part about it not being lingerie,

"Hm? What was that?" He spoke up while grabbing your chin and tilting you to be level with his. "I.." "Words, Y/n." "I said it's not lingerie." He puffs some, "Well, you make it seem like it with how well you look in it."

The two of your eyes bored into another, and got lost in them. So amused how the feeling was mutual.

"Y/n, may I confess something no matter how inappropriate it may be?" "Yes, of course Aaron." "I like you. A lot." "Wh-, I like you too. Oh my.. I was, not expecting this. Haha.. Well,"

He noticed your awkward and worried rambling. "May I kiss you?" "Yes!" And within seconds, his hands found yours.

Maybe winter miracles aren't too far fetched.

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