9 Works by cornballcornwallace
Listing Works
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trying to pretend that i don't need all your attention by cornballcornwallace
Fandoms: South Park
04 Mar 2026
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Summary
“Are you awake?”
“Maybe,” Tweek replies. Intentionally vague. Or maybe just sleepy. Most of the time he thinks Tweek knows exactly what he does to him, and that everything is always on purpose all the time, but then something like this will happen that’ll make him think he has no idea that him just existing is enough. Or Tweek’s poker face is just that good, but it’s been a long time. He’d like to think he knows the difference by now.
or; Craig wakes up to Tweek's hair in his mouth and all he feels is lucky.
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Craig's game runs so long, he almost misses it—Tweek’s last event, his free skate. But if he skipped the shower Tweek would kill him for showing up smelling like sweat, so he shows up uncomfortably damp with his hair still dripping instead and hopes that’s okay. His sock is falling down to the inside of his shoe which is making him want to kill himself in a manner of graphic ways, but he can’t think about that right now.
There’s something raw and intense about Tweek on the ice. The way he moves. The way he looks. He hasn’t been able to stop watching Tweek since the first time he saw him in person, and that doesn’t happen with anybody else. It’s usually hard to hold his attention like that, but not for Tweek.
His eyes are glued to Tweek as soon as he can see him. The music started five seconds ago—maybe ten. He doesn’t know the song well enough on its own, just short clips from practice videos. He didn’t want to spoil it. He wanted the full experience.
or; Craig didn’t care about figure skating until he met Tweek.
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School is not a Craig place to be. Craig places to be include the inside of the coffee shop and the drive-thru, and nowhere else, because that’s the routine. That’s where Craig is supposed to exist. He’s supposed to not be a real person with his own life doing his own things and showing up around campus at the university Tweek logically knew they both go to. He was counting on Craig being an occasional side character he could sigh wistfully about and then go back to normal, real life, not someone who does unpredictable things like accidentally sign up for the same gen-ed!
It’s probably a miracle he didn’t see him outside the shop sooner. Or literally run into him, like out of nowhere on a sidewalk. Scary.
or; Craig has been a regular at Tweek Bros. for a while, and he can't stop thinking about the cute guy who usually makes his drinks. He has no idea he's ruining Tweek's life, because Tweek can't stop thinking about him, either.Series
- Part 1 of espresso martini
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Summary
Stan has just enough time to shift and pretend to have been on his phone this whole time before he catches the sliver of light from the curtain cracking open out of the corner of his eye. He opens random apps—Twitter, his texts with Wendy, Netflix—and closes them so Kyle will think he’s doing something more productive than staring.
The light next door shuts off.
And then he’s flashbanged by the incoming call screen.
“It’s three in the morning,” he points out, in lieu of a greeting, squinting and turning his brightness down. Maybe light mode was a mistake.
“Yeah, no shit.” When he looks over, Kyle’s curtains have opened all the way. He doesn’t even look tired. He looks too awake. “I think I’m dying.”
or; Kyle goes through a crisis and Stan answers the phone.
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Craig zeroes in on the exposed skin of Tweek’s legs and feels like falling to the floor in agony.
He knows Tweek’s powers give him a higher tolerance for the cold between the snow and the rain, which explains how he’s not slowly becoming an ice cube, but that doesn’t make it any fairer. He’s been freezing his ass off in bed while Tweek’s letting all his body heat dissipate into thin air instead of using it to keep him warm. A total waste.
He scowls. “Fuck you.”
Tweek’s face scrunches up, eyes narrowing into meadowy slivers. “Fuck me?! What did I do?"
"You left me. To freeze to death. And you're wearing shorts. Why are you wearing shorts?"
or; Super Craig's true Kryptonite - winter temperatures.
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According to Stan, it started with pushing. Low contact. And some of the times he used to say he ran into walls, they were at least half-truths—omitting the part where his dad had shoved him into them.
The bruises didn't become frequent until a little while after Kyle turned fifteen. That's also when the black eyes started. He wasn't stupid. He didn't have to ask to know.
or; Stan's started to look like a younger Randy and it hasn't been going well for him. Kyle's too smart for his own good.
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Everyone is changing—his mom’s helicoptering has reached an all-time high, his teachers keep talking about the future (like that’s something that exists in South Park, instead of everywhere else), the guidance counselor keeps telling him he’ll have college baseball coaches beating down his door any day now begging him to go pitch for them. Some already are.
Cartman gets worse and more obnoxious by the day. Wendy has been breaking up with him over stupider and stupider shit since the end of junior year, and he’s getting tired of getting jerked around. Even Kyle is blowing off plans lately so he can study for standardized tests like he’s not already smart enough.
Only two people have stayed the same: his dad, to no one’s surprise, who remains as unbearable and hypocritical as ever, and Kenny McCormick.
or; Stan is scared of the future. Kenny helps him live in the present.
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He miraculously makes his way upstairs unharmed, and Kenny McCormick of all people takes one look at his disoriented ass and points him outside without another word. And without laughing at him. Either Stan and the other guys are turning over a new leaf or he's drunker than he previously thought.
The cold air that smacks him in the face when he opens the sliding door sobers him up a little, to the point that he can walk without looking like a zombie.
Tweek is out here. Inches away from him is Wendy Testaburger, blessedly Stan-less but twirling one of Tweek's loose curls around her finger.
or; Craig, Tweek, and loving (and hating!) high school Halloween parties.
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She wants to insulate him against the rest of the world forever. He hurts too much, and he never did anything to deserve it. He drives his friends’ little siblings around when their parents are busy and feeds the fish in Stark’s Pond and nurses stray kittens back to health on his back porch, and his reward is to hurt and hurt and hurt. One dark night in the middle of last summer, he’d confessed, barely awake, “Sometimes I feel like God’s punching bag.”
She hadn’t known what to say, so she’d just stroked his hair and mumbled about anything until he fell asleep.
But she knows what she’d say now: It’s not fair. It’s not right.
She marches right up to his house after school to do something about it.
or; Stan's been missing school. Wendy figures out why.