Welcome home!!! So exciting to hear from you again!
Can I ask what your South Park fic is going to be? Who’s the lee/ler?
Thank you so much! I still can't believe it lmao
Sure! I decided to just put the fic here lol
I had this idea over deployment and I kicked myself cause why didn't I think of it before lol
Here is the mash-up song that is referenced in the fic! I know super last year LMAO stop I haven't been here
also sorry if my formatting is weird and my writing is rusty it's obviously been a while but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)
WARNINGS: Cursing, references to SH (self harm) and drinking
Which Song? (Lee/Ler Jersey Shore Kyle/ Lee/Ler Goth Stan) (aged up)
Jersey Shore!Kyle and Goth!Stan are having a sleepover and decided to pull out the karaoke for this one! But which song can they agree on despite their differing tastes?
"Hey, Stan. Stan- Stan. Watch me." Stan looked up begrudgingly to Kyle with one pierced eyebrow raised expectantly. Well, it was a stud glued on to his skin, but he would never admit it. Stan watched as Kyle flipped his black cap backward on his head and donned stylish black shades.
Kyle adopted a stance that showed off his lean yet toned torso and picked up his phone to start taking selfies. Wearing a tight white tank top and Elmo pajama bottoms that hung off his hips, Stan was his complete opposite dressed in all baggy blacks and grays.
"What? I'm watching you make thirst traps? You're gross." Stan rolled his eyes and looked back down at his phone. Alt TikTok was his current addiction. Anyone who danced on Tik-Tok like mindless zombies were posers.
Kyle snorted at his best friend and crossed the room to throw his arm over Stan's shoulders and snapped a photo. It came out blurry as Stan struggled in his grip.
"Ah come on Stan, you're no fun anymore. Come on, you can sing with me." Stan shoved Kyle off as Kyle was already moving to the karaoke machine. Kyle pressed a button on the machine that booted up a song immediately. Kyle tipped his shades down to look at Stan with green-tinted eyes as he pointed at Stan with one hand and held a microphone with his other as the first notes of his song began to play. Stan rolled his eyes once more as he scratched near his eyelid, shedding black eyeshadow in the process.
"Hey, baby girl, what you doin' tonight? I wanna see what you got in stooore~ Giving it your all when you're dancing on me-" Kyle rocked his hips in tune with the music which Stan stifled both a groan and a blush at the same time at that; very confusing.
-"I wanna see if you can gimme some more~ You can be my girl and I can be your man, and we can pump this jam however you waaant~ Pump it from the side pump it upside down-" Kyle lifted one leg onto the couch and started humping the air in tune to the song, to which Stan stood up abruptly and crashed into him to get him to stop.
"Alright alright alright! Quit it!" Stan clicked a button on the machine that paused the song, silence filling its place. Kyle tsked, disappointed as he threw his arms up.
"Dude it was getting good, what the fuck?! Turn it back on." Kyle pressed the button to turn the song back on, but the machine didn't respond. Kyle pressed it a few more times, to no avail, and kicked it out of frustration. "This shit's gahbage. Need to get a new one, it's been acting up lately."
"Or the machine just doesn't want to play your shitty-ass song. Here, I'll show you what real music is. Not this disgusting Disney pop trash." Stan programmed the machine to play a new song, and snagged the microphone from Kyle, but not without a flirtatious wink from Kyle first. Stan's cheeks burned an uncharacteristic red as the first few notes of the song began to play. He began to sing.
"Hey scene slut, I'm still cutting tonight. That's why my wrists are so sooore~" Kyle gave Stan a bewildered look as Stan kept going.
"I know you got a boyfriend, but you're a whore. Everybody drinking, shot glasses on the floor. We be clubbing all night, gimme some more-" Now it was Kyle's turn to shut off the machine. Stan petered out the last few words without the song's help and whirled around to face Kyle.
"Hey, what the hell? It was getting to the good part!" Stan asked angrily. Kyle put his hands on his hips and motioned to Stan.
"You call that music? They're talking about cutting themselves and whores for Christ's sake!" Kyle rose his voice while adjusting his shades, which riled Stan up as well.
"What about your song with you humping the damn air? That's not inappropriate?! Turn it back on, I said." Stan reached to turn the music back on the machine, but Kyle gripped his wrist before he could make it. Stan attempted to wrench his hand back but Kyle kept a firm hold on him.
"Hell no. We either listen to my music or not. I'm not catching your depression from your emo My Chemical Romance crap." That was Stan's final straw. With a growl, Stan launched himself at Kyle and took him to the floor. Kyle's shades and cap were knocked off his head as Stan straddled his hips. Stan knew he'd have to take the advantage as soon as possible because he did NOT have a physical advantage over Kyle. It was a part of the Jersey aesthetic for men to be ripped, and Kyle was indeed that while Stan was...not.
So Stan tore down Kyle's defenses the only way he knew how. Stan started scribbling his fingers in between the spaces of Kyle's lower ribs and sides; Kyle already bubbling up in laughter as he wriggled on the carpet.
"My music is not Emo you wanna-be Jersey Shore copycat. It's better than anything you've ever played!" Stan yelled, his black lipstick staining the corners of his mouth. It's been a while since he touched up his makeup, but that would have to wait. He would have to teach this lesson to Kyle quick before he tried any retaliation.
Kyle's red hair splayed on the carpet as he laughed and tried to grab Stan's wrists. "Pffmt- Stahahan! Stohohop thahat!" Funnily enough, in his laughing fit, his Jersey accent mysteriously disappeared. Kyle's eyes squinted as his smile took up his face; Stan's hand spidering his hard stomach. How could he have this many abs and still be so sensitive, Stan thought distantly.
"No, this is the only way you'll listen. You're not only calling my music Emo, but you also called it crap." Stan's next point was drowned out by Kyle's outpour of laughter as Stan kneaded an exceptionally mean thumb in Kyle's bare hip divet. Wearing his pajama pants so low had its consequences. Kyle's eyes were screwed shut as he was temporarily too weak to fight back."STAhahahan! Gehehehet ohohohoff!" Kyle yelled out and wriggled like a worm on a hook.
"Hmph, your fault for wearing your pants so low. I mean, who does that? It's like you're asking for this to happen. This is why your music and fashion tastes are questionable at best. See, if you would pay attention to any of the Goth Tiktoks I send you, we'd agree a lot more often." Stan grew way too comfortable with the situation in his position. He attempted to hold both of Kyle's wrists in one of his hands, which Kyle easily broke out of.
Kyle's hand shot out to start squeezing the closest part of Stan to him. It was Stan's knee that was exposed through his baggy jeans. Stan yelped and folded to the side, crumbling easily. Kyle popped up and dove in, causing Stan to shriek. Kyle's face was flushed and his curls bounced around his forehead while his fingers squished and kneaded into his best friend.
"W-Wahahait wahait waihait! No nohoho no I'm SAH-! I'm sohohohrry!" Stan fought to bring his knees up to his belly to protect himself, but Kyle found weak spots all over him. He squished Stan's sides, which made Stan cover his sides, and when his hands were out of the way he kneaded into his hips, causing him to squeal.
"Oh, talk about my accent leaving? You raised 3 octaves in your voice! I've never heard you so loud. You know maybe if you spoke up more often, I'd actually care about your opinion on my tastes." Kyle swung a leg around Stan's thighs to force one of them down and attacked his belly with one hand. Stan's tummy was definitely softer than Kyle's, with some chub around his belly button. Which just so happens to be ridiculously ticklish. Stan yelped as Kyle repeatedly squished the patch of chub over and over again.
"KYhyhyhyhle! Stohohohop stohohop stop! Nohohot thehehere!" Kyle was unfazed at his best friend's reaction. He knew when Stan really needed it to stop, and he wasn't nearly there yet.
"Huh, I wonder what would happen if I recorded this and sent it to your uppity black-clothed douchebag friends. You think they would kick you out of their dick-sucking club- GAH!" Stan didn't know how he did it, but he managed to wrench his grip out of Kyle's hold and shoved his hand up Kyle's armpit and started to scribble.
"Youhohohou ahahahasshole! Gehehehet ohohout of thehehere!" Kyle winced as Stan rose higher and shook his hand in the sensitive spot.
"Yeah? Well what if I recorded this and sent it to your orange spray-tanned "5-seconds-of-fame" seeking asshole friends and show them what a poser you are? I'm sure anyone THIS incredibly ticklish couldn't fit in-" Kyle reached forward and gripped Stan's hip and started to knead. Stan fell backward on the carpet of the living room like a felled tree. Kyle smirked at how easy it was to disarm his friend.
"You're one to talk aren't you, huh Cabbage? Well, you won't be talking in a second." Kyle's chain escaped his tank top as he thrust forward and started squishing into Stan's belly. Stan shrieked a manly sound as he started to curl up into his defensive ball.
"Shuhu-ahahaha! Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup!" Stan yelled out. Kyle snorted at Stan's attempt at being intimidating. Stan reached out and did what he could. Kyle's chain glinted in his eye as he grabbed the cross and yanked it off Kyle's neck. Stan kept it in a tight grip in his fist and raised it above his head.
Now it was Kyle's turn to roll his eyes as he simply started scratching his fingers in Stan's armpit. Stan instinctively shot his elbow down to save himself as Kyle attempted to pry his fingers open.
"Give that back asshole! It's my only Ed Hardy chain!" As Kyle was distracted trying to get his chain back, Stan reached forward and scribbled his fingers in Kyle's ribs. Kyle winced as he tried his hardest to ignore it, but he couldn't ignore his side getting squished. Kyle let go of Stan's hand and angrily squished Stan's kneecap to get back at him, to which Stan yelped and kicked his leg out reflexively. His Converse-covered foot kicked the glitchy karaoke machine.
Both Stan and Kyle stopped respectively at the loud clank; their hearts beating wildly in their chests. The machine made some whirring sounds, like recording and re-recording and wires getting crossed. Suddenly, a song started to play. The last two songs that were recently played on the machine glitched into one melody.
"Hey baby girl what you doin' tonight?"
"Hey scene slut, I'm still cutting tonight."
"I wanna see what you got in stooore~"
"That's why my wrists are so sooore~"
Kyle looked to Stan; his makeup smeared and his hair tousled. He lost his beanie somewhere in the fight. Stan looked to Kyle, his tank top half drug up and his hair a mess. Stan silently handed Kyle over his chain and shrugged his shoulders.
"This song actually..." Stan started.
"...sounds pretty fucking good." Kyle finished. They both smirked at each other, everything wordlessly forgiven as it always was since they were kids, and picked up the microphone, where they proceeded to sing their hearts out for the rest of the night.
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"You're really sensitive for a selfish asshole." (Raven x Kyley-B)
“You’re really sensitive for a selfish asshole.” (Raven x Kyley-B)
Prompt – You’re really sensitive for a selfish assholeCharacters – goth!stan/jersey!kyleWord Count – 530
Notes – this one was so much fun to write! Thanks @sawyer-is-unisex for the prompt! I absolutely loved it!
“Come on,” goads Stan. “Quit crying. It’s, uh, it’s fine.” “I’m not crying,” insists Kyle. He scrubs at his face with the back of his hand. His face is still red from crying, freckles looking faded against the heated skin. “Fuck off, dickweed.” Stan sits down on the sidewalk next to him. He purses his lips together, dotting at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. It feels like his lipstick is smeared. “You know, for a sensitive asshole you’re actually pretty sensitive, Kyle.” “Don’t feckin’ call me that!” “Sounds better than Kyley-B.” “Says the asshole that picked the same nickname as a flying rat.” Kyle sniffs again, wipes at his face. He’s obviously still crying, trying to hide it behind insults and snorting and the gum that he’s suddenly unwrapping. Teeth smack down on the slip of chewing candy. “Jus’ fuck off, a’ight? No one wants you hanging around.” Stan snorts. “You know what? Fine. You just come let me know when you’re ready to quit being an asshole.” South Park is different at night. It’s more quiet, less busy. The stress of having to keep up with everyone else starts to fade out and no one cares if you spend three hours sitting in a parking light, smoking. Stan is already three beers deep when Kyle shows up, still wearing his skinny jeans and that awful jacket he insists on wearing. “Hey.” Kyle sits down next to Stan. His face is still red. “This town sucks.” “Yeah,” agrees Stan. He cracks open another can of beer. “It does. You just figuring that out, Kyley-B?” Kyle cracks a smile, but it’s kind of small. He fishes a bent cigarette out of his back pocket but doesn’t light it. “Nah. Just thinking about it more today.” A moment of silence. Kyle passes the cigarette back and forth a few times. “Raven ain’t a bad name, y’know. Better than some’a the shit I’ve heard.” Raven snorts. He’s still not entirely sure what to make of the new kid, who’s rough and tumble some of the time and a complete mess the rest of the time, face bruised and eyes red. “Yeah, I’m sure you have. Jersey’s probably got a bunch of shit names flying around.” He passes the beer to Kyle. “Want one?” “You drink shit,” says Kyle, but he takes it anyway and downs half the can in one go. His face crumples up, like he honestly hates the taste. “Fits this town.” There’s no argument there. Raven bumps their shoulders together. “Planning on being here for a while?” “South Park or the Quick And Save?” “Let’s go with the Quick And Save.” Kyle shrugs. He offers Stan the unlit cigarette. “Depends. How long you going to be here?” “Wow. Subtle, Kyley-B.” Stan lights the cigarette, takes a drag off of it. The smoke vanishes into the dark of the night. “Probably a while still.” Kyle takes another swig of his beet before dropping backwards, stretching out over the cement. “Guess you’ve got your answer, then.”
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