I’ve written a handful of lil moments in Aisle 10 from Tweek’s perspective just to practice writing him and also to get a sense of his side of the story. As I continue to sluggishly drag my legs through finishing ch11, I decided to share one of the ones I stumbled on recently because it doesn’t really ~spoil~ too much like some of the other ones do.
This is right after he got home on prom night.
I may as well post this here lol it was originally on my main blog
I had a dream recently about a girl I used to love and then I was like, “welp it’s been awhile since i made craig have any dreams in a10, maybe i should give him one like mine.” and then I wrote this hahahahahaha
—-
“Craig.” Him saying my name is enough to steal my attention, but it’s the slight tinge of nervousness catching on the edge of his tone that causes my grin to slowly slide from my face. “There’s—ugh. I—uh, God.”
I feel his fingers - they’re long and thin, and right now clammy as they wrap around my hands. He grips me like he needs something to hold onto or he might float away.
“I just wanted to tell you something I’ve, um, never told anyone before! Is that okay?”
I swallow, and it’s loud, I can hear it, and I’m pretty sure he can hear it too. “Yeah, of course. What’s up.”
Aisle 10 preview!! Sort of!! Haha, only “sort of” because I’m considering cutting this scene! Or at least making it a lot shorter. At the very least, I would cut out everything that’s between the brackets [ ]. You can basically ignore all that (or even this entire thing) and the chapter could still make sense haha. So I guess this is like director’s cut edition where you see everything that may not make it into the chapter?
anyway ok so this is potentially a deleted scene from chapter 11 that I wrote with birdteeth in mind hehehe
fandom: motorcity
pairing: one-sided mike/chuck
rating: G
notes: my first MC fanfiction yay go me!! sigh i wrote this because i wanted to write kissing that did not work out quite how i planned oh well. this is still INCREDIBLY cheesy, i’m not even kidding, don’t come here thinking this is going to be clever or amazing. this was really for the sake of test-driving these characters and wow they are fun to write 8u8
—-
Cleaning Mutt is a daily ritual for Mike, one he not only considers blasphemous to skip but one he actually looks forward to doing.
It’s during this when Chuck first stumbles over, moaning and groaning and whining (but when is he never?), hunched over and swinging his arms. When Chuck throws his back against the passenger car door, Mike winces because he knows he’s just waxed there.
“I can’t do this, Mikey, I can’t,” Chuck says, his voice partly muffled by the hands plastered over his face.
fandom: south park
pairing: creek
rating: G
notes: my bb lindsay is feelin the sads AND THAT IS NOT ALLOWED so I??? wrote some creek for her i hope it helps a little u_u actually this is a really petty gesture that is not going to alleviate your situation at all BUT I HOPE IT MAKES YOU FEEL EVEN A LITTLE BETTER? ILU GIRL ;_;
—-
You think he might be dead.
He hasn’t said a word in thirty minutes and you can’t remember what his breathing sounds like and you’ve been staring at his chest far too closely and can’t tell if it’s moving.
You’re pretty sure he’s dead.
I PROMISED YOU ALL I WOULD FINISH TONIGHT I PROMISEDDDD
shorter than usual yes aren’t you proud of me :’D
The car ride home was uncomfortable.
The moment I sat down in the backseat and buckled myself, Dad began grilling me about where the hell I’d gone last night, why the fuck I hadn’t come home, and a number of variations on the question, “where and how did you put your penis in that twitchy blond kid.”
heh
I’m not quite cross-legged. My knees are bent and the bottoms of my feet press flat up against each other. I grab them with both hands and stare at them for a moment. My socks are the same color and the same length, I realize, which is a rare occurrence for me. I know it had been for the dance last night but it says a lot about my current life situation to notice that even the little details of my person are changing just to suit the kid sitting beside me.
Though I’m sure he wouldn’t care about mismatched socks.
He probably never even wears socks.
He looks like the type of kid that doesn’t wear socks.
I glance at him in the corner of my eye and he’s still sitting there, watching me, patient as ever. He probably thinks I need these few minutes to wake up properly, but I’m really just biding my time planning out what I need to say next.
But of all the things you could say to the boy whose bed you just woke up in, who kissed your face the night before, to whom you confessed your love to not more than twenty-four hours ago—
“Do you ever mismatch your socks?”
—probably wasn’t my best line.
He doesn’t even respond, just lifts his head a little and stares at me with slightly furrowed brows.
“Wow, sorry, that was dumb, don’t answer that—“
Then he pokes his feet out a little bit more, so that they peek out beneath the leg holes of his pajama bottoms and teeter over the edge of the bed. He’s wearing one pale green sock and it has a hole on the big toe.
So I was half right.
Anonymouskelly clarkson is the patron saint of my fanfic apparently
aaaaa that’s so cool that it makes you think of him hahaha a little on the dramatic side but some of those lyrics are pretty appropriate :’D
thanks!!! ;u; i like when i get told about songs that remind people of the fic 8)
