#kids in the dark | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lazeyangelarchive · 1 year

Text

Kids in the Dark chapter 2

The walk home wasn’t a long one but it did take the redhead a bit of time as he was stumbling over his own feet, his drunken stupor proving to be a bit much for him. Kyle grumbled a bit as he tried to right himself against a telephone pole before holding his stomach, his guts lurching forwards as he expelled anything and everything that was in his stomach which was quite a bit, the portly boy liked to eat and they had quite a few snacks at the party.

Groaning a bit he looked down as he realized he got some on his shoe, he cursed a bit and before hearing a honk behind him, he sighed before he looked up to see a pickup truck drive up beside where he was standing. The street light illuminating who was in the truck, it being Craig, with a passed out Clyde in the passenger seat, Tweak in the bed with Tolkien, the two still drinking from a cooler that was there. “Holy shit dude, you just spewed everything you had, which is quite a bit from a fatass like you” he said as he eyed him up and down, taking in the redhead's body as he parked at the curb. “Need a ride? Maybe wanna party a little more? Tweak just scored on some kush.” he said as he looked Kyle over before smirking, knowing the hefty guy needed some sort of release just by seeing his actions earlier at the party.

Kyle looked up at him and wiped his mouth a bit before looking at the two in the back then to Craig. “ hm…debatable..” he said. He stood upright and hummed softly before rubbing his eyes with his clean sleeve before glancing down the street. He could just avoid home all together by doing this or suffer a whole night in mental agony. “ fuck it lets go” he said as he moved to the back, Tolkien already holding a hand out to help the other up. He wasn’t one to hang out with douchebags like these guys but he really didn't care anymore. It’s not like Stan or Kenny was here to talk him out of this shit. Tweak smiled and hummed a bit “I got the good stuff when I went for a special pick up today” he said before ticking a bit. “I got some even better stuff than just bud too” he said as he handed Kyle another drink, the redhead taking it and cracking it open. Kyle sighed a bit before leaning back as the truck started moving again, he sipped his drink before looking up at the stars above, blinking slowly as he just wanted the world to be sucked into a black hole.

He didn’t even know why he was feeling like this, could it be because of home life slowly turning to complete shit or was it because he was just simply tired of it all. Tired of being the perfect jewish boy, the straight A student, the one known to have the worst anger issues seen in that town ever. He sipped his drink before closing his eyes, letting the chill air flow around him calming him in its cold embrace, as the truck turned and revved speeding through the night , taking them to City Wok. It wasn’t long till they pulled up, the group unloading out of the truck and shuffling back behind the chinese restaurant. Clyde having woken up finally and stumble his way towards the dense path leading to the small clearing behind a couple of trees, whooping in his buzzed state. He pulled the cooler off of the tailgate and started towards a clearing in the woods, dancing a bit as he sang poorly to the music Tolkien had playing from the bluetooth speaker in his pocket.

Craig looked back at the group and hummed as he settled down against a log, flicking his lighter on before passing it to Tolkien who leaned over what seemed to be a fire pit, lighting a slip of paper and tossing it under some logs that slowly trickled into a small crackling fire. Kyle looked around and sipped his drink before slowly sitting off to the side, yawning a bit as he watched Tweak pull out a wrap and the bud. The blonde moving with nimble fingers to quickly wrap a neat and long blunt, he looked at Craig who flipped out a Zippo and held it in front of him. Tweak leaned forwards and breathed in a bit, starting the burning of the blunt.

Taking a huge puff he sat back and blew it out slowly before passing it to Craig who took an equally large hit, humming as he pushed the smoke out his nose. As the blunt was passed around slowly, Kyle watched and soon it was his turn. He looked at it before glancing around, it was his first time with this and he didn't know now if he wanted to.

Craig hummed and slipped an arm around the redhead, being the closest to him in their order after Tweak moved to sit beside him on the other side next to Tolkien. “Come on Broflovski…you got this ''he purred into his ear before smirking “ just a small hit to start, it won't do much to you but will help” he said as he drifted the others hand up with the blunt in hand. Tweak chuckled and dug through his pockets to find the small baggie of capsule pills. “ Look what i got..it aint much but it’s what i could get for cheap” he said as he waved it in Clydes face.

Kyle looked at the group before rolling his eyes, the screaming of his own conscience not to do this was getting louder and he hated it. He hated how his brain was working these days and he just wanted it to end. He closed his eyes and slowly let the end of the blunt touch his lips. With a slow pull of his lungs, the smoke soon filled them, it burned…everything. His mouth, his throat, his lungs, it all was on fire but he did his best not to cough as he slowly let the plume of smoke escape his body, that's when the cough hit him. He sat up as he coughed roughly, shaking as he passed the blunt to Craig who took a hit easily “ not bad for a first timer” he said as the smoke drifted from his mouth.

The buzz didn't hit right away as he always thought it would, he sat there watching before moving to take another hit when it got passed over to him. He smirked a bit as he started to get the hang of it, sipping on his beer as others took their hits and passed it on. He took the blunt again, taking a smoother hit this time, passing it on as he exhaled. “ Hey Tweak…what is that you got?” he asked as he watched Tweak pop one of the pills into his mouth.

Tweak looked at him and passed the baggie over, “ Adderall” he said as he smiled a bit and chuckled “ go ahead and take one, it will help” he said. Clyde snorted a bit and rolled his eyes “ dude you know he’s already going to get shit from his bitch mother for even drinking let alone smoking” he said as if Kyle wasn’t there to hear it.

He frowned and looked down a bit, holding the baggie in his hands before pulling a pill out. He started at the capsule before glancing at the others “I really dont give a fuck anymore” he said as he gently set the pill on his tongue, sipping his beer to wash it down.

Clyde was shocked that Kyle just went for it, and with the comment the other said as he did it. “ holy shit” he said before taking the blunt and pulling a big drag from it, humming at the mind numbing haze the bud gave him. He passed it to Tweak who took a hit then popped another pill, passing the blunt along again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After about an hour, the high fully set in with the group, the five of them just laying against the logs around the small dwindling fire. Kyle's stomach was softly growling as he seemed to get hit with the munchies. He groaned a bit and rolled over to slowly get up, fixing his shirt as it rolled up his lil pudge roll. “ dammit” he mumbled as he moved to glance at his phone. “ i gotta head home” he mumbled before moving to get to his feet, stumbling as he nearly tripped over Clydes foot “ god fuck clyde, why dont you move your fucking fat feet” he hissed before flipping the brunette off as he started to walk away.

Craig sat up and looked over at him before raising a brow “ yo gingersnap, you want a ride to your house?” he asked as he seemed a little less affected by the weed as everyone else was. Kyle waved him off a bit and grumbled as he stumbled rather ungracefully over a stick, nearly face planting into the dead leaves and snow that was on the ground. Luckily he managed to catch himself, he sat up and looked back, seeing and hearing Tolkien, Clyde and Tweek laughing their asses off at his mishap. His face burned red as he rushed quickly out of the woods, whether it was from embarrassment or anger he couldn't tell in the mental cloudy state he was in.

He shuffled along slowly, grumbling to himself as he glanced at his phone, seeing that the group chat he had with the other three guys had been going off. He only decided to read the last few messages, most being from Stan.

"Hey tonight was fun guys…right?” 1:27am

‘Guys?’ 1:45am

‘Anyone been in contact with kyle? He left the party pretty drunk kinda worried about him’ 2:02am

‘Cartman? Ken?’ 2:05am

‘Jesus fuking god Stan go the fuk home u goddamn fag’ 2:06am ‘jesus fuck Cartman, sorry for being concerned about my friend’ 2:07am ‘More like ur fuckbuddy’ 2:15am Kyle groaned as he read the texts and moved to type, just as his phone started ringing, Stan calling him. “Fucking hell” he slurred before answering the phone “Goddamit Stanley,I'm fucking fine” Stan's old truck could be heard rattling through the phone as he took a second “Where are you?” he asked as he pulled down the street, heading towards Stark Pond “I tried texting you since you left and that was an hour ago” he said as he looked around “Did you make it home?” Kyle rubbed his face as he started walking slowly, every step felt like he was walking on a cloud “I'm on my way now…I was hanging out with Craig and them. Don’t worry about it dude.” he mumbled. Not noticing how croaky his voice sounded, so calm and relaxed, barely around his normal octave. “Ky…are you high?” Stan asked, he knew the sound of a high person, thanks to his dad and his stupid farm. “ Jesus, Kyle why the fuck would you hang out with Craig of all people? Seriously you know they are just a bunch of druggies, did they force you? Do I have to call Barbrady?”

The redhead sighed a bit and rubbed his face a bit “ yeah yeah i'm high, but i didn't do anything else but smoke, so dont fucking call Barbrady, shit aint even illegal” he said, already having forgotten that he had taken a dose of adderall. “I'm just gonna..go home and sleep…maybe have a snack..I think we have ice cream…” he hummed, thinking out loud as he couldn't stop his word vomit. “ Dont worry my Dexcom hasnt screamed at me yet so I'm chill…” he said before squeaking as he tripped over a bench that was in his way and that he was paying little attention to. “Kyle?...Kyle!?” Stan said into his phone before pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before groaning. “ Dammit, where are you? Obviously you can't be left alone for a fucking second you goddamn son of a bitch” he hissed as he turned the truck near the church and saw Kyle down the road,laying on the sidewalk in front of the bench he had tripped over. He revved his engine and with a small tire squeal he whipped the truck over to the curb and jammed it in park. He was out of the truck in a second, rushing to the redhead “ Kyle!” he said as he moved to him.

Kyle wasn't moving, he was laying face down on the sidewalk, his phone laying on the bench. Stan rushed to try and pull him up, hefting his friend up a bit as he sunk to the ground under the other's weight. He held onto him as he rolled Kyle over, quickly assessing what happened to the other, moving to check his pulse, his breathing, all that. He sighed when he heard Kyle groan a bit, having probably just knocked himself silly.

The redhead looked up at the other and chuckled softly “Oh hey” he said before frowning “Wait i'm supposed to be mad at you” he said before moving to get up, struggling a bit as he was laying awkwardly on Stan’s lap. “Fuckin…get me up” he said as he rolled over onto his hands and knees before shifting his weight a bit to get up. He fixed his shirt over his belly before looking down at Stan as he used the bench to get to his feet. Stan watched him and sighed a bit before rubbing his temples a bit before sighing “ Fucking Christ Kyle” he grumbled before moving to get up “I thought you fucking broke your neck or some shit” he said as he moved to get and help the other, frowning when Kyle ripped his arm away from the other and tried to fix his hat. Stan hated seeing the bloodshot look of his best friend's eyes, he was used to it from his dad but not Kyle, not his Kyle. The redness of his scleras was enough to make his emerald orbs seem to glow brighter than the streetlamp they were under “ Dude let me just take you home. Clearly you can't be trusted to do it alone” “Trusted? You don't trust me? Why the fuck dont you trust me? Is it because I'm high?” he asked quickly, his cheeks turning pink as his anger started to boil. He looked at the raven haired boy in front of him, having to look up as Stan was nearly a head taller than him “ Or is it because I’m ‘Unstable Kyle’?” he hissed at him as he grabbed his phone and started to storm off. That comment stung, Kyle must have heard what Stan and Kenny were talking about the other day. Which happened to be the two discussing a rumor they heard from Nichole that Kyle was in therapy, or something for his outburst, his instability with his anger. Stan moved to follow him but stopped when he realized what the other said, biting his lip and sat on the bench and sighed a bit. He shook his head a bit and looked over, watching as Kyle shuffled away. He shook his head and moved to rest his elbow on the arm of the bench, his head soon laying in his hand as he stared at the figure fading in the dim light. “ The things I do for him and yet he pushes me away” he grumbled.

Glancing down at his phone he saw a string of texts from Wendy, she seemed worried about her boyfriend. He sighed a bit and moved to text back, rubbing his eye as he typed with one thumb, not caring if he made mistakes. He was just tired and ready to just have this night over with. He moved to get up finally, having glanced over to no longer see Kyle, he climbed back in the truck and stretched his arms out a bit before glancing at the time seeing that it was now about fifteen minutes till three AM. He pulled the truck out of park and started on his way towards Stark's pond. He needed a mental break, and the cool waters of the pond was the best place for him to clear out the muck that was floating about in his brain.

He pulled up to the front of the dirt path and parked, sighing as his headlights lit up the area, gripping his steering wheel as he looked around the area. The dense forest showed its creep factor as the trees ahead loomed over the truck, seeming to curl inwards towards the path. Stan shivered at the sight before the headlight turned off, causing the raven haired teen to jump at the sudden darkness. He sighed and pushed the door open, sliding out of the pickup,slamming the heavy door shut. He used the key to lock it before shuffling slowly down the path. Using the light from the moon to lead him through the woods till he came upon the sign letting whoever came by it where they were. He kicked the post of the sign with the side of his foot as he walked by it, something that became a tradition of his whenever he finds himself here. He sat down on the bank of the pond and stared at the water, his mind racing a mile a minute. He couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard he would try when he got to thinking about something it stuck till his mind rot settled. He looked over the water before laying back on the cold ground, hands behind his head to prop it up as he stared at the stars and the crescent moon above. ‘ What happened tonight? Why was Kyle acting like that? Did I do something wrong? Am I being too clingy to him? I can't believe he got drunk and then got high, his mom is going to kill him…maybe I can take the blame somehow? Protect him from her wrath or some shit, real knight in shining armor shit. Yeah that's what I'll do…but what about Kenny? Where did he go? Last I saw he was talking about the stars and then he was gone. Gone…..will they all be gone?’ He teared up at the thought of all his friends just leaving…their backs facing him as he reached out for them. His chest tightened as he felt the tears roll over his cheeks, the warmth of them reminding him how cold it was outside. He sat up and wiped his face before curling up, his knees tucked close to his chest. Pulling his hat off he used it to warm his face up slightly, breathing into the knit fabric so the warmth of his breath spread across it. He pulled back after a few seconds of trying to warm himself, he felt a tug at his chest, grumbling as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his inhaler device. After a few shakes he brought it to his mouth but didn't take a breath of it, he stared at the inhaler, a small wheeze coming from him as he thought about it ‘I could just…not take this and let this stupid asthma kill me. It would be painful but worth it I guess…who would notice? Mom maybe? Fuck if dad and shelly would notice. Ken maybe…Cartman probably wished me dead a long time ago. Kyle? God why is he being such an ass? Is it because of me?’

Stan felt the tightness in his chest again and he let in a strained breath, quickly he shoved the mouthpiece of the inhaler in his mouth, cringing as the plastic clashed against his teeth. A quick push with his index and middle fingers helped the medicated air enter his lungs. He held his breath as he mentally counted before slowly letting the breath out slowly. His chest no longer aching, and his lungs no longer strained for air. He looked up at the sky once more before smiling a bit, the pain he felt seemed to clear his mind. The pain…maybe that's how he will get through this. He looked down at his already scarred wrists, something he inflicted when he was younger. “...maybe it's time to pick it up again” he muttered before shaking his head, not wanting to put his mom through that again. “No can't let mom down, I'm doing good for now.. I won’t break my promise to her” he whispered to himself before looking at his inhaler. He raised a brow before humming, he rolled it over in his hand as he thought. Moving he got to his feet and pulled his arm back, winding it up a bit before pitching the Inhaler as far as he could make it fly. He closed his eyes , letting the sound of the night echo around him until he heard in the distance, a satisfying bloop of the object hitting the water. He opened his eyes and hummed again. He looked at the water before shivering, that's when the thought hit him. Maybe he could make that pain come back so he could clear his mind. Pulling his coat off and his shoes he started for the water. That frigid water, it beaconed him to step in. one toe in was enough to send a shock through his body, but he soon set his whole foot in. Hissing a bit as the cold burned his skin, he closed his eyes once more before stepping further and further in,the water soon engulfing him. The cold, the dark, the pain in his chest, was enough to remind him that he was human. To ground him once more, but maybe a little bit longer wouldn't hurt. He let his mind wander again as he floated under the water, feeling the pond's floor against his socked feet ‘did I really walk in here with my socks on? Jesus christ I am losing it…but hey, I can think a bit clearer now’ The pain in his chest spread to his throat as he slowly opened his eyes.

The murky lake seemed so clear down here, he could see the outline of the moon above him, shining down onto him as if cleansing him of his impure and self sabotaging thoughts. Soon the pain became unbearable, he opened his mouth to try and let something happen, maybe take the pressure off, try to breathe in, something. He watched the air bubble leave his mouth before he felt it, the icy water hitting his throat, filling his lungs.

‘No…no! Shit shit shit this was dumb, dont..dont let it…kick! DAMMIT STAN KICK!” He screamed at himself as he used what strength he had left to shove off the ground, his body rocketing up. He broke the surface of the water and coughed, treading the water as he hacked and gagged, spitting water up, his raven hair sticking to his face. The water blurred his vision as he started kicking towards the bank again. Crawling out when he got close enough, nearly throwing up as he hacked and spit the water out. He felt his shirt cling to his body, his jeans soggy and slowly making their way down his hips. Thankfully his belt kept them up, his blue plaid boxers peeking over the top of the waist band. Everything felt constricting, showing off his thing yet slightly bulky frame. He pulled at his shirt slightly, the one hand balance was enough to cause his strength to give out and he fell to his chest, hissing as a sharp rock jabbed into his ribs as he fell

He slowly rolled onto his back and looked up at the moon again, wheezing a bit, the cold air biting in to his wet clothes, already hardening them with ice. He stared at the moon and hummed before asking a few questions out loud to himself, the moon and those damn stars. “How do I fix this?Can I fix this?....Should I fix this? What is there to be fixed?” Chapter one

#south park #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #sp style #a03 fanfic #kids in the dark #lazeyfic

5 notes · View notes

inkskinned · 10 months

Text

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.