The people that you must remember (Kenny x Reader) (COMPLETE)

A quiet redneck mountain town

(This note will eventually be deleted. I realized multiple images and chapters were missing so I had to go back and fix that. This means a good chunk of the comments here will not match the chapters. Sorry for the confusion))

You closed the door to your dorm room with your foot and took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and you were desperately trying to calm yourself down.

You'd only arrived at South Park two days ago. You and about half of the student body of Crested Butte community school, which had burnt down over the summer. The case was still open, and the police were thinking arson. Probably some dumb teenager who thought they could get out of coming back to school when the year started up. Jokes on them, now you all were stuck in a brand new school in a brand new town. At least a bunch of donations had managed to make South Park high school a decent place before you all got there. The local students didn't seem too excited though, now that most of them had to live at the school and not just spend 6 hours a day there, five days a week.

Ugh, you'd barely slept.

Rubbing your eyes with your free hand, you glanced at the door across from you and saw that somebody had written FAT BITCH on the door in sharpie. The kids here seemed absolutely charming. Suddenly the door opened and a girl who was rather on the bigger side stepped out, wearing a long black dress with a cross necklace, her long black hair not yet combed and her face without makeup. She didn't even glance at you, closing her door and sneering at the writing on it. Licking your lips, you softly spoke up, "Lemon juice might get that off."

The girl turned to you, have your ninja turtle pj's a once over, and her sneer grew.

"Don't talk to me, you preppy conformist cheerleader."

Oh. Well then.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize you used that to locate your room. Most of us have name plates but I guess a descriptor works too."

Oh, she gave you THE dirtiest look, and you just gave her a sweet smile in return. Without sparing her another glance you started down the hall, your clothes, towel and tooth brush tucked under your arm. If people were already graffitiing the school, you prayed they spared the showers. You made your way through the girls dorms before reaching the showers, noticing but not caring that the fat bitch was following you. You got inside before her and picked a shower, setting your clothes in the corner where they wouldn't get wet, along with your phone, which you used to hit shuffle on your Spotify. You turned the shower on to satanic levels of hot before stepping under it. You closed your eyes and listened to the mixture of water and music as you silently washed up.

I can see it in the eyes of so many of my friends,

And I don't know how to break the bad news to them.
They can try as they might,

they can look all their lives
But they will never find a home again.

And it's not someplace we're homesick for,
And it's not some face that we adore.
It's not a broken heart that we need to mend,
We will never find our home again.

Okay. That hit a little too close than you'd have preferred. Growing up you'd moved a lot. Four years in Crested Butte was the longest you'd ever lived in one place, and now you'd been uprooted once again thanks to some dickhead with a fire fetish. Turning the water off and drying yourself, you got dressed in black hose with a birthday massacre band shirt and black and white stripped short overalls. Stepping out of the shower you sighed at the sight that greeted you.

CONFORMIST CHEERLEADER SLUT.

Written across all of the mirrors.

Jack in the box Jesus, how much spare time did the try hard goth girl have on hand? Surely she had better things to do. This really wasn't your mess to clean up, but seeing as you weren't a royal dick who would leave this to the janitor, you grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and began washing off the purple lipstick. "I'm gonna kick her. Right in her vagina."

"I'm guessing Henrietta did that?"

You glanced over to see a group of girls enter the showers. They all looked kind of like goths, but they wore fake fangs. One had her hair streaked with red, and a face full of glitter, the second had purple streaks in her hair, and the third had platinum blonde hair. Ah, Vampires. The close siblings to the goths. You sighed and shrugged, going back to cleaning up the mirror. "If that what the fat bitch's name is. It's like she strolled off the set of Goth Talk."

"...I don't know what that is."

"An SNL skit from like, the 90s. The main character was called Azriel Abyss and he tried too hard to Sejm totally gawf." You explained, and the three girls giggled before joining you in cleaning off the mirrors. "I'm Bloodrayne, this is Allison and Annie." "I'm (Y/N)." You introduces yourself and smiled. The girls stayed in the showers with you, asking questions as you got your makeup ready.  What bands did you like-Birthday Massacre, Sisters of Mercy, and Evelyn Evelyn to name a few, did you like Twilight-No, but you did like the vampire diaries and the Sookie Steakhouse series, and if you wanted to be their friend-of course, they seemed cool. Once you were finished, you left with your new group and saw Henrietta standing with three gothically dressed boys who were belittling another gothic looking boy, who had green in his hair. The girls immediately jumped to his defense and Henrietta's group snorted. Her eyes immediately fell on you. "Why am I not surprised that the preppy Bitch is a vampire wannabe." "So...did you base your entire personality off of Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Ravenway, or was that an accident?"

Everyone at you blankly. Oh, they'd never heard of My Immortal? Devastating.

"...I don't even know what that is." Henrietta confirmed your worry and you let out a gasp. "You claim you be goth and you don't even know the most important Harry Potter fan fiction in all of goth history?? For shame, Enoby, for shame. That may get your goth card revoked." Henrietta looked at you with a gaping mouth and you walked away, flipping your dyed black hair over your shoulder and dramatically calling out, "Why couldn't Satan have made me less beautiful?!" The vampires, their leader in tow, followed you as you stepped out onto campus, all laughing until a loud yell interrupted them.

"SHUT UP YOU FATASS!"

"I'M NOT FAT, I'M BIG BONED!"

——————-
and the rewrite begins!

South Park humor is hard to write.