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#us yang stans going to need it this saturday (;
yangstears · 3 years
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to yang stans
from a yang stan
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jewpacabruhs · 5 years
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also do the "wanna go out w me sometime" one for kyman thanks sis
nah thank you bb :-) ok im doin this one first to get the writin juices flowin heh
yay drag cartman…. lil bit inspired by lais fic ;)
When Kyle agreed to help Cartman break up Stan and Craig, South Park’s newest and strangest young couple, he hadn’t thought it would turn into a fiasco. Maybe he should’ve had the foresight to anticipate Cartman’s antics, but as it was, when Cartman had bitched about Craig and Tweek being soulmates and Craig being an entire idiot for dumping him, and Kyle had agreed that Stan deserved better than being a rebound for some aloof alternative space nerd like Craig, and Cartman had proposed they break them up, Kyle had immediately accepted without much thought. Cartman was good at schemes like that; surely he could find a way to split them easily enough. 
Kyle was an idiot for that, because Cartman could never do things “easily enough” - he just had to turn a simple little mission into a completely over-the-top and often disastrous performance, with unnecessarily extravagant costumes and everything.
So that’s how he ended up in a booth in the nicest restaurant in town, wearing his finest suit, which he hasn’t touched since his cousin Eli’s bar mitzvah last May. Thankfully it still fits, though it’s a little restrictive. Across from him is one Eric Cartman who is, of course, inexplicably in drag; a floor length deep blue evening dress, sparkly silver makeup, and a sleek blonde wig. He looks amazing, and Kyle resents him for it.
“We’ll be noticed less if we look like your average straight couple,” Cartman had explained, when Kyle had picked him up from his house and given him a look of barely contained annoyance and contempt. Then he’d said, “Oh, this almost feels like prom!” and tried to get Kyle to escort him to the car, and eventually got his way by saying, “If this is how you treat women, I can see why none of them wanna date you.” Kyle had grudgingly linked arms with him after that, and walked him down to the car - even opened the door for him, though Cartman didn’t even really need help; he could walk perfectly fine in his heels, he just liked to be irritating.
So now they’re in the booth, and Kyle’s leg won’t stop bouncing. Craig and Stan are two tables away, both wearing suits and looking like they’re playing dress up. Stan’s blabbing enthusiastically about something, and Craig looks a little bored, but he’s nodding along, prodding at a salad. Cartman had anonymously left a free reservation - how he’d acquired it, Kyle was scared to ask - in Stan’s mail box: “Congratulations! This is a ticket to a free dinner for two on Saturday September 7th, at 8 PM at our fine eatery!” as well as some finer print details, including the lie that it’d been won from a randomized lottery. It’d been addressed to Stan himself, because Cartman figured Randy might try to steal it for him and Sharon. Stan had gushed about it at school, about how he wanted to treat his mom to dinner as a late birthday present, and while Kyle thought that was immensely sweet of him and felt pretty bad about it, he’d had to dissuade him from taking her. “It’s a romantic type of place,” he’d said, feeling like a real shitty friend. “People are gonna think-” and then Kenny had helpfully pitched in, “-that your mom’s a cougar, bro!” That was all it took for Stan to decide he’d take someone else, and from there, Kyle had gently planted the idea that Stan should take his new boyfriend. 
So there they were, at a table for two.
“Dark and dark don’t go together,” Cartman’s saying, frowning disapprovingly. He keeps eyeing the bread sticks, but he hasn’t touched them, probably for fear of messing his lipstick up. “Craig needs Tweek, for, like, contrast, you know? Blonde and black. It works. You can’t have two yangs.”
“The yin is the black one,” Kyle says boredly, just to correct him, though he doesn’t know for sure. “What about Token and Nichole?”
“That’s different.” Cartman waves a hand. “Craig and Stan - have you heard that thing about white gays, uh, dating their own lookalikes? That’s - yeah, that’s Craig and Stan.”
“They don’t look alike,” Kyle frowns. “Craig’s all angular and, like, lithe, or whatever, and Stan’s kinda softer and - and wider, like. He’s sturdy. Different body types, dude. Their faces are super different, too.”
“You sound gay as fuck right now, and I’m the one in drag.”
“Shut the hell up, Cartman. You didn’t have to be in drag, that was all you.”
Cartman quirks an arched brow at Kyle - if the redhead knew anything about makeup, he’d know that Cartman had glued his own eyebrows down, put foundation over them, and redrawn higher arches to achieve the alluring look he wanted; he’d learned a lot from all his hours of watching Drag Race. Kyle, however, is ignorant as hell, so he’s dumbfounded as to how Cartman pulled the look off, but incredibly irritated by how it’s impressive and almost endearing to him, that Cartman’s so good at passing as a girl. He’s a pretty one, too, all soft angles and gentle curves, his naturally pouty lips even poutier with the help of overdrawn lip liner and the pale pink of the lipstick he’s got on.
“I like being pretty,” Cartman explains simply, and Kyle scowls at him because of course he knows how good he looks. Smug bastard.
Kyle’s facing away from Craig and Stan’s table, because Cartman doesn’t look anything like himself from far away, but Kyle’s not wearing anything to disguise himself, other than the uncharacteristic suit; he’d be instantly recognizable if they saw his face, so he can’t risk it. So though he occasionally risks glances back, he’s mostly watching Cartman watch them, as he pretends to look at his menu - and no, Kyle’s not grateful for the excuse to stare at Cartman. He’s getting more and more anxious the longer he looks at him, because he looks like a very pretty girl and it’s confusing Kyle indefinitely. It’s still Cartman, he tells himself firmly. 
He’s so busy convincing himself that he absolutely can’t find Cartman attractive, that he almost misses the panic in his eyes. 
“What?” Kyle asks, starting to turn, but Cartman reaches out and grabs him, press-on red nails digging into Kyle’s forearm.
“They’re walking over here!”
“Fuck!”
“Quick, kiss me!” 
“What? No!”
“They’ll recognize us from this close, Kahl!”
Kyle wants to argue, wants to come up with an alternative, anything but pressing his lips to Cartman’s, but they’re getting closer and he doesn’t have time - he grabs Cartman’s wrist and pulls him closer, tilting his head to the side and kissing him as chastely as he can - he refuses to let this be remotely passionate. The softly curly bangs of Cartman’s wig fall over both their faces, which is good; it’ll hide them. 
Kyle tries to count in his head - ten seconds, he thinks, that should be good, they’ll be gone by then and I can pull away - but he gets to three before he becomes hyper-aware of the way Cartman’s lips feel against his own. He doesn’t want to think too hard about it, he really doesn’t, but it’s hard to ignore the glossy feel, how he smells faintly of strawberries, how his lips are warm and plush, just like the few girls Kyle’s been lucky enough to kiss. But this isn’t a girl, this is Cartman - and yet, somehow, when it’s been far longer than ten seconds, Kyle can’t bring himself to pull away. Part of him, the pre-installed horny teen that sits in the back of his mind and yells at him constantly for being more focused on school than getting laid, wants to deepen the kiss, wants to move closer to Cartman, who’s overwhelmingly soft and warm and pretty - but then someone clears their throat and Kyle pulls away, wide-eyed and disoriented.
It’s Kenny, and he’s grinning like a mad man. “Oh man,” he says merrily. “Oh man! Fuckin’ incredible!”
Kyle wants to ask what the hell Kenny is doing at a fancy place like this, but the waiter outfit he’s wearing answers his unspoken question. “Don’t tell anyone,” he says instead, quietly, glaring hard so Kenny knows he means business.
Kenny grins at him cryptically, winks at Cartman, then walks away with a joyous spring in his step.
“You’re a bastard,” Kyle says to Cartman, who looks, for once in his life, genuinely at a loss for words. “Kenny’s gonna tell everybody, and every kid in school will know you and I kissed - hell, it won’t take long for our parents to find out! Everyone will think I’m gay, and they’re gonna think I’m gay with you of all fucking people - you know how pissed my mom is gonna be? Not ‘cause I’m gay, and I’m not! I - I don’t even know what I am, but now people are gonna assume I am, and I won’t even get to have that to myself - fuck, my mom’s gonna be pissed because it’s you. Of all the eligible bastards, she’ll think I wanted you.”
Cartman’s looking at him with a strange mix of confusion and something akin to desire, freaky as that is. “You, uh - okay, bad timing, but do you wanna go out sometime?”
Kyle raises his eyebrows at him. “Are you fucking insane?”
“For you, babe, probably,” Cartman says smoothly. He pushes a curl of hair out of his face and bites his lip, trying for seductive, and Kyle’s genuinely angry that he has some irritating horrible terrible absolutely and completely subconscious desire to kiss him again. 
Kyle looks away before he can get more upset. “We didn’t split up Stan and Craig, and now Kenny thinks we’re dating. This night couldn’t have gone any worse, and it’s all your fault. Why do you have to do things so outlandishly? We could’ve done literally anything else to get them to break up. But no, you just had to trick me into going on a date with you-” Then it dawns on Kyle, that that’s what this was all about in the first place. Craig and Stan were an afterthought; Cartman wanted an excuse to be with Kyle.
Cartman seems to realize that Kyle’s figured this out, because he has the nerve to look embarrassed. “It was perfect, Kahl,” he says quietly. “How was I supposed to pass up an opportunity like this?”
Kyle feels a rush of different and harshly conflicting emotions - irritation, a flash of hatred, betrayal, irritation again, anger, then something like desire, and passion, and that damn urge to kiss him again.
He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a few deep breaths. Then he stands up quickly and says, “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”
“Wait, now that my lipstick’s already smudged, I want some bread sticks-”
“Let’s go,” Kyle repeats, tugging on Cartman’s arm.
Cartman lets Kyle pull him to his feet, briefly rocking back and forth in his off brand Louie V heels. Now devoid of a reason to hide his crush on Kyle, he smiles happily and says, “You’re lucky I like it rough. Any other girl might slap you for being so rude.”
“You’re not a girl.” Kyle throws a tip down on the table, despite not having ate, and starts pulling Cartman toward the exit. He doesn’t know where Stan and Craig went, or even why they left, but he’s not thinking about them right now.
“No, I’m not, and that scares you, doesn’t it? Poor widdle baby Kahl, having his first gay panic-”
Kyle turns on him and bares his teeth, ignoring the fact that they’re being stared at. “I would shut the fuck up if I were you,” he growls, without thinking about it, but immediately regrets it when Cartman’s eyes go half-lidded. He can handle homoerotic overtones with a rival - but not with someone who so clearly is into him and who, terrifyingly, Kyle’s admittedly hot for himself.
Cartman goes silent, though, blissfully, as Kyle leads them out of the restaurant. 
Once they’re outside, where it’s fairly empty other than an extended family in the parking lot saying their goodbyes, Kyle turns on Cartman. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Cartman grins at him. He looks like the cat that got the cream - and he looks like that a lot, he’s a smug asshole who gets his way far more often than he deserves to, but this time, things are different, and worse yet, this time, Kyle wants to kiss that self-satisfied smile right off his stupid face. 
But that’s what Cartman wants, and Kyle won’t let him have it. 
So instead, he says, “Are you free this Friday?”
Cartman smiles. 
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animatedinsights · 17 years
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Look Back at WonderCon 2007 -- Day 2 (Saturday)
AS ORIGINALLY POSTED ON LIVE JOURNAL
Look Back at WonderCon 2007 -- Day 2 (Saturday)
Mar. 9th, 2007 at 7:39 PM
[COMMENT: I am SO sorry for the delay in these posts! I went to my doctor this past Monday about getting antibiotics but it turned out she left them off the prescription (it had numbers for two items but only contained one) and it wasn't until TODAY that I got her on the phone she finally called in something. So I have been in much misery since Sunday night. But let's lead back into the great times before we got to that point...]
I actually attended only the afternoon of WonderCon on Saturday. My morning plans consisted of getting up relatively early, actually eating breakfast at the Argent, and leaving the Argent at 9am, riding the Powell and Hyde cable car from downtown all the way to the other end of the line at Fisherman's Wharf, have lunch at a place where I'd made reservations right when they opened, then take the historic F-line streetcar which started across the street from the restaurant back to basically out front the block of the Argent while still making sure I had plenty of time not to be late for the panel I was moderating. You'll notice between this paragraph and my mentions of BART last time that I have this thing for public transit. Then again I've lived in LA for a decade and don't drive which quite frankly confounds everyone I meet.
Eating breakfast at the Argent (which by the way has been bought by Westin and is transitioning to the Westin San Francisco this summer) was a bit of a mistake. Due to all their renovations, they were only offering an overpriced breakfast buffet, no lunch, and cocktails at dinnertime. I knew I'd have to figure out an alternative for Sunday after seeing that bill.
The cable car ride was an incredible experience from beginning to end. I was actually in the back half but fortunately seated as my balance isn't always the best. Given the hills, I think I felt a little safer being enclosed. It was interesting watching how the driver worked with the wooden breaks and how he coordinated with the conductor. We got up to the Wharf before 9:30 which left me to do a little walking and exploring, which was fine as that had been the intent. My lunch reservations at Castignola's (which apparently is the oldest restaurant on the Wharf) were at 11. One thing I hadn't planned on was that the main office for Tower Tours (with whom I would be taking a trip Sunday) was right at the Wharf below Ghiradelli Square; had I known that I might have planned a little differently but I'm not sure. What I also hadn't planned on was it being so windy, which on top of the temperature was a bit much. At one point I even ducked into a Starbucks for a Green Tea Latte just to get out of the wind. I continued to walk all the way past the cruise and ferry pier to Pier 39, where there are a bunch of shops. Here I was not only able to get new batteries for my digital camera but they were kind enough to recycle my old ones; I also picked up a postcard of Moscone Center for my parents. Overall I found Pier 39 very boring though, maybe this is because I'm not a heavy shopper or maybe it reminds me of something I've seen before -- Pike's Place Market in Seattle if it were an outdoor mall. Same type of shops and everything, just California merchandise not Washington State.
I make it back to Castignola's with a half hour to wait until they even open, so I buy a book of letter stamps (need them when I get home anyway) and decide to put a little extra postage on the postcard for my parents. I fill that out and then find there doesn't seem to be a post office box nearby. But then who should appear at Castignola's but the local letter carrier! I politely ask him if he can take it, and he does. Cool.
Castignola's was a nice place, with a friendly staff and good food. Did a shrimp, scallion, and crab leg combo plate. This was the one meal I had budgeted to be my largest because I knew that seafood would cost more. Even with that taken into consideration, the cost was reasonable. The waitress, who was Chinese, told me about everyone getting ready downtown for the Chinese New Year parade (turned out she was jumping the gun about that just a little as I had no trouble getting back). Due to her comments, and the fact I'd lounged in the Wharf area long enough, I just hopped the streetcar back to the Argent. For those who don't know, the streetcar is the same type of vehicle that the old Red Car systems down here used to run on, so now I have an idea of what transit here would have evolved from if everything hadn't been ripped out for cars...
Made it back to the Argent earlier than expected, so I relaxed a little but not too long, and also made sure that I had my mock-up of the final cover of the book (for which the publisher had sent me the art file earlier in the week, and then I mounted in pieces at home and completed at the hotel). Decided to arrive at Moscone in time to go down to the SLG Publishing booth one more time and pick up Issues 3, 4, and 5 of REX LIBRIS to finish the arc and then attend the 2PM panel that preceded ours at 3PM. The panel featured artists currently being shown at the San Francisco Cartoon Art Museum -- Gene Yang, Gene Colan, Linda Medley, and Pia Guerra. A wide diversity of styles and opinions indeed. Also made sure to identify the Con staff member in the room so we could build a rapport for the following hour. Smart move as it made it a lot easier to pick him out later.
And then, after that panel was over, it was our turn.
The Con staffer handed me all the names to put out as I wished (I followed the program and put them alphabetically, which put Adam Beechen closest to me and the podium on the far left of the stage, then Stan Berkowitz, then Dwayne McDuffie, and then Greg Weisman at the end. The alphabet is the great equalizer... heh.) I also put the display board of the book cover between the DVD player on the table -- which we weren't using -- and Adam, as it wouldn't fit with me on the podium. We then proceeded to practically pack the room with probably about 100 people or so (the largest crowd I've ever talked to) and talk shop for an hour, walking the animation process from development to the animation coming back from overseas, which sort of follows the flow of certain chapters in the book but shared the personality and interaction of multiple pros at once versus the spotlight interviews at various portions of my book, GARDNER'S GUIDE TO WRITING AND PRODUCING ANIMATION, which is slated for late April release. So we got the flavor of the book in the panel, while letting it be its own thing. The four guys did great, as for me I can tell places I still need to work on public speaking but as someone highly accustomed to rigid outlines I didn't do half bad.
After our time was done I stayed around for Greg Weisman's spotlight panel moderated by Dan Vado, owner of SLG Publishing (for whom I must again thank for his generosity of letting Greg be with our group as well). Greg mainly wound up talking about GARGOYLES, though in theory the panel was open to anything. Even though I've had chances to interact with Greg, and admittedly knew a fair amount of what was said, there's always that twist that something you could use a good reminder on or something completely new could come out -- like the announcement of the limited issue GARGOYLES: BAD GUYS comic.
I saw Greg briefly after that panel (not that I was looking for him, he found me) and we basically said what I thought would be our goodbyes as I had at that time no plans to be back at the Con Sunday. I was very pleased with the whole day, and even now I'm still happy I went.
Upon returning to the Argent, I discovered that the Chinese New Year parade was happening within the block of the hotel and hung out watching it most of the time, though briefly I had to duck into the Subway down the block for dinner at one point. Interesting mix of the traditional and the commercial, and not everything was Asian or even Asian-themed.
Originally I had planned to try to go out after the parade was over, but watching all those people disperse and realizing I'm a woman alone in San Francisco who got lost in the daytime -- I quickly change my mind and decide this is not a good idea. Had I had someone to go with, I probably would have kept going. But instead I retreated to my room again, knowing I was going to get up early again to check out and go on my 9AM tour.
Several hours later, I wake up. Coughing. I think my throat's just dry and get a drink of water and go back to sleep. Better make that try to go back to sleep. My coughing keeps waking me up, and waking me up. I begin to realize it's going to keep me from going back to sleep. At first it's not as big a deal as I can hear others still returning from the Masquerade, but as it gets later in the night it begins to drive me crazy. I burn through all three of the REX LIBRIS comics and several short stories in the TURN THE OTHER CHICK anthology edited by Esther Friesner that I brought on the plane (one of my finds from last year's WonderCon), making several attempts to sleep between that are short lived. At one point I literally but quietly start pounding on the bed in frustration. I feel for my hotel neighbors, quiet getaway they did not get.
Next rock will pick up at 5:30 AM Sunday morning, with where I went on my tour despite my struggles, how I nearly got seriously lost in San Fran, why I wound up back at Moscone, and late night flight adventures with Mark Evanier...
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