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I WISH YOU A CRENNY CHRISTMAS...WARNING:YAOI.DON'T READ,IF YOU DON'T LIKE.I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK OR THE CHARACTERS IN IT.ALL OF THAT BELONGS TO TREY PARKER AND MATT STONE.I DO NOT OWN THE CHRISTMAS CAROL,"THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS."LANGUAGE.
"Come on,Craig!We're gonna be late!"Kenny gripped his tiny hand tighter around the ebony haired male's wrist as they both raced towards the school doors.
"Kenny..Calm the fuck down..So what if we're gonna be late?It's not like it's the first time.."He rolled his eyes and almost stumbled,for the blonde pulled him too hard.
They finally burst through the doors;Just as the blonde feared,the halls were eerily empty."Oh,no..We're gonna be majorly late now.."He sighed and looked towards the taller boy.
"Well..I guess we can just walk around the school..No one will miss us,right?"He laughed and walked forward,Craig following.
"So where should we walk,Craig?"
The ebony teen didn't hesitate on his answer."The library..No one ever goes in there..Not even the fucking librarian.
.I'll Be Your Anchor.I'll Be Your Lover.WARNING:YAOI.DON'T LIKE,DON'T READ.I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK OR THE CHARACTERS IN IT;THAT ALL BELONGS TO MATT STONE AND TREY PARKER.I ALSO DO NOT OWN THE SONG "THE LOVER" BY THE AMAZING BAND KNOWN AS ALESANA.OOC KENNY!
The small blonde writhed around in his boyfriend's bed.Sweat dotted his frame as he let small sounds of fright escape his plump lips.He clenched his fists around the navy blue sheets and sharply arched his back.His eyes were tightly drawn shut.
The dark haired male,whose bed it was,woke with a flinch and worriedly stared at the smaller boy.His large hands gently shook the blonde's shoulders.
The blonde whimpered and parted his lips."St-Stan!I'm s-sorry...P-Please don't hit m-me!"
The ebony teen sighed;for three months,Kenny has been having dreams where Stan brutally abuses him.It made the taller teen absolutely sad to think how terrified the blonde must be of him because of those damned dreams.
Stan shook a bit harder,raising his voice a bit
Is That Better?WARNING:YAOI.DON'T LIKE,DON'T READ.I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK,KENNY,OR STAN;THAT ALL BELONGS TO MATT STONE AND TREY PARKER.FLUFFY,OOC-NESS.
"Come on,Stan!"The five-year-old blonde tugged on the taller boy's hand,practically dragging the almost six-year-old ravenette.
"Slow down,Kenny!You're gonna get yourself hurt!..or me!"
The blonde stuck out his small,pink tongue,making a "NYAHH!" sound,and ran faster.
"Why are we wunning anyways?It's only my house we're going to..."
The child shrugged."I dunno,Stan..I wike going to your house..It's a lot more fun than my house!"He giggled."...and I wike being with you..I feel a whole lot better when you're awound.."He slightly blushed and gripped his small fingers tighter around Stan's hand.The taller boy smiled but gasped as he saw a good-sized rock right in the blonde's path.
But it was too late;the small blonde tripped over the rock and fell on the ground.
"OW!"He raised his knee and discovered it had a large scrape that was ooz
Crenny-FinallyWARNING:I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK,KENNY,CRAIG,KYLE,OR STAN!THEY BELONG TO MATT STONE AND TREY PARKER!YAOION'T LIKE IT?THEN,GO AWAY!
It was just any other normal day:The sun was shinning,the birds were singing,the children were-well-being kids,and the teachers were yelling at us.I looked around the classroom and tried to find Kenny,bit to no success."Where is he?"I whispered to myself;I haven't seen Kenny all day.
"Craig Tucker!"My teacher yelled.
"Yes Ma'am....Err..Sir..Whatever you are!"I really wasn't for sure what gender my teacher was.
"Umm..Yeah..listen in class,please."
I only nodded in respect and I finally heard the bell ring;I was the first one out,as usual.
I started to look for the small blonde and couldn't find him.I eventually reached my locker and still no sign of Kenny."Where are you,McCormick?"I whispered,slightly annoyed.Stan walked by me and looked my way.I might as well ask him.
"Hey,Stan!Do you know where your boyfriend is?"Yeah,Stan and Kenny have been going out fo
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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