south park x reader. gender neutral reader.
crackfic. lowercase intended.
a 17-year-old punk degenerate in their senior year makes friends with a bunch of dirty-mouthed boys. together, they form a band, cause mayhem, and ruin their love lives.
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CHAPTER TWO: hey, kool thing, come here sit down beside me there's something i gotta ask you i just wanna know, what are you gonna do for me?
🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ you experience your first meeting at the anti-bullying committee.
sitting on one of the bean bag sofas you start to rethink a lot of things. can't help but try to see what started the butterfly effect, to the point you ended up sitting criss-crossed in a circle of kids you probably haven't spoken to since middle school. it could be the nostalgia, but it was most likely the fear of icebreakers.
"pronoun circle!" butters shouted as he pumped his fists into the air. it was a little unreal to be sitting next to the boy who gave you your first taste of homophobia.
then, there was eric cartman, pissed off to an unthinkable level in the corner. you always considered him to be a one-sided rival when it came to trickery and antics, but at some point, you grew out of it and he somehow never did. tormenting the lives of others is fun until your prefrontal cortex starts growing, you guessed his brain was lagging behind.
"we're not doing a fucking pronoun circle," cartman crossed his arms.
"awww, why not?" the other boy sitting next to you flashed his signature charismatic smile, one that's recognizable for a missing front tooth. you knew him as kenny, and you never paid too much mind to him as he always seemed to be in his own world full of boobs, or whatever. although you notice now since his hood is down, he seems to have a crooked bridge piercing. piercings tell you a lot about a person, at least to you.
kyle sits down on the floor across from you, his lack of enthusiasm is evident in his voice, "because fartboy can't handle the english language."
"oh, i can handle your mom just fine."
"very original." it's funny, well, kyle broflovski is a funny topic to you. recounting all the times you would silently make fun of his posture and the way he used to stride down the halls. he can't help it, being the first kid in his grade to grow out of his stubby legs. other than that, you never thought of him more than just a nerd who somehow has a fan club. you're pretty sure he's not aware of it, or else he would've moved to San Francisco.
"cartman, can you just sit down so we can get this over with?" stan grumbled as he was tapping away on his phone. that man was an enigma to you, some days he would show up in all-black attire with an intense side part and smudged eyeliner. other days, he would be straight-up drunk in the middle of art class. whatever it is about him, was something that made you steer very far away from him... but also intrigued. "and butters, don't piss me off. you're already on strike two."
