Hello, I am Rox. These are the drabbles and WIPs I've been tampering with as well as all the other fanfictions I've written. I write these fanfictions for the South Park fandom. Enjoy. FFnet Profile Main Blog Art Blog
A few boys were rejected from playing the game with everyone around the time of the new kid’s arrival for various reasons.
Gregory for being a snooty bossy betty who tried to take over strategies as well as 'politely demanded' that he be given his own warriors.
The Mole because he played both sides for whoever gave him the most quarters to fight, owed allegiance to no one and consequently pissed both kings off eventually (they also ran out of quarters). But also because he treated it more like a modern war game than fantasy.
And Gary out of underestimation for his abilities. Many thought he’d be too goody goody and maybe tattle on them for various roughness. And after the debacle with the Mole they figured he wouldn’t know how to play right anyway. Being as nice as he is and figuring he didn't owe them any explanations, he didn't argue and simply shrugged his way on out.
Besides, there was a promise of a new kid to recruit.
Little did everyone know, Gary's actually a huge fan of the Elder Scrolls series and had gotten both Christophe and Gregory into the series.
Mole came first of course. One mention of a group of assassins called The Dark Brotherhood and he was all in and fascinated. Not to mention discovering that he could sneak around and steal everyone's shit. After a while Gary ended up making him his own account on his gaming console because every time he logged on since then he'd discover that he had a massive bounty on his head and all the hold's guards were out for his head from Christophe sneaking over and going on murder sprees with Gary's high level wood elf. Of course the Frenchman picked being a Khajit for his own account.
"Cats are better of course. And zey are sneaky."
Gregory was slightly trickier but the promise of sneaky politics was enough to get him interested. He picked being an Imperial.
"It sounds like me. I like it."
"Oui, it suits you because you are an imperial pain in my ass."
Soon then when the game started up back up and Gary mentioned on the offhand about wanting to play, Gregory suggests they make their own group. And so the three devise a plan, places to meet up. Christophe wouldn't roll in unless it was a den of assassins or at least that they get to take out other players and much to the Mormon's surprise, Gregory agreed with him. Eventually he came around to the idea as well, after all it was a bit for their pride. With Gregory and Gary at a match for intellect and the one being politer and sweeter than the other, they balanced out without one out-leading the other. When it came to sneaking around and stealing from the other kingdoms, Christophe was in charge. The group was never at the same place for long, carefully devising that they sporadically switch up their headquarters to keep from being laid siege to.
Kyle's and Cartman's kingdoms attempted to catch them on a multitude of occasions, but with Gary's high level healing and range weapons, Christophe's duel ranged brute strength, and Gregory's swordsmanship, each challenger fell and the three went into hiding again. The ability to decide whether a battle was worth fighting was always a plus as well, knowing when to retreat kept them fighting another day. Alliances were made and carefully kept (the goth kids respected their 'non comformist' attitudes about the kingdoms, aha) and so they had the longest streak of any of not getting caught or beaten in fights.
hrsguierhgerg I'm debating on wha they decided their background stories were. I imagine Christophe was secretly super into coming up with them with Gary mentioned it and got Gregory excited about them as well. The big dorks.
Quirk: All her sentences begin with a pen symbol ✒ and ⊰ with it ending with a coinciding ⊱. Her a's are replaced with ค and her u's replaced with น. This is due in fact that คน means 'bird' in Tai when placed together.
EC: ✒⊰ Once นpon ค time, there wคs ค cนrioนs troll who soนght to mคke the คqนคintคnce of other trolls. ⊱
Melori has a tendency to type as if telling a story, often leading others to being either confused and perhaps amused or irritated in her roundabout manner of being informative. This is due in part that she is an avid reader and enthusiast of troll faerie tales and other such myths and therefore enjoys to secretly insert herself into the feel of fantasy. Being maternal in nature, she's also the sort to take pleasure in giving advice and consoling those she cares for. However, her way of giving advice is often through a tale woven with morals for the others to figure out.
When it comes to a strife, she relies on stealth and a good hiding spot to get her hunting done rather than taking others head on. Her mean aim makes her quite the adversary in the dark of night, especially due in fact that she prefers light armor. As for close combat, she reverts to caged bird behavior, clawing, snapping, and flailing.
Her weakness is probably that she's a bit nosy (and perhaps too empathetic for a troll) in addition to her tendency to be extremely wary when in the physical presence of others. She tends to pout and perhaps enjoys shiny things a bit too much, a learned behavior from her Vulturemom. Due to the fact that Vulturemom and her flock tends to attack any that come close to their treehive, Melori doesn't physically interact with others much unless on a hunt or 'adventure'.
The blond wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, tired eyes wandering to stare out the cracked blinds of his window. As usually, he'd slept but only barely with a distressing mix of nightmare and dream that bounced him in and out of reality. But now it was his favorite time. It was the time when sunlight illuminated his room in the softest of light, new with the most soothing dimness. And the quiet, that was very nearly the best part.
"Nn.."
Nearly the best part.
Tweek's head rolled over onto his pillow tentatively like most of his jittery actions before he peered over the side of his bed. He listened to the steady breathing of the body resting so casually and unaware on the floor, half out of an old shitty sleeping bag. It never ceased to amaze him how calm Craig seemed whether it was in or out of consciousness, always soothing his own nerves. There was the occasional moment when the taller male's grumpiness showed or even the chapped lipped smile of amusement that he would sometimes be graced with, but those were only the smallest things that made up Craig Tucker.
The other things were probably the way he always mercilessly chewed his lips up despite his braces, or the way his happy trail peeked out from beneath his ridden up shir-
Oh.
But it definitely didn't fail to subtly excite him without even trying.
Much like most of the things Craig did without even trying.
Tweek let out a shuddering breath, knowing what was coming, the familiar telltale tickle of arousal wiggling up his spine. He bit his lip quietly even as his sweaty palm slid nervously, eagerly across his stomach and down to tented boxers.
It occurred to him he'd get caught, Craig would wake, and oh god would he be mad? Would he punch him? Scream? Craig would-
No, he was already doing this, palm pressed needily against a rising erection that was already leaking despite his anxiety.
High school was hell. Puberty was hell. Being attracted to one of his best friends was hell. But fuck, he was not about to stop, not now.
The blond rubbed at his swollen cock with breathless excitement with a shudder, enjoying the thrill it gave him. He bit back a groan behind his own sweaty palm before he gave himself a good and proper grip that left him arching just so. The fact that Craig lay only a few feet away made it both better and worse, leaving him squirming and feet tangled in thin cotton sheets.
"A-ah.. nn.." Tweek couldn't help the whine that left him even as his blond brow furrowed. He should seriously cover himself up, lift the blankets, something. At least then if his friend caught him, he could just roll over and feign sleep. It would be a shitty defense but at least it was a defense nonetheless. But no, he couldn't be bothered as the fog of needy lust drove him to pull himself free of his boxers, shuddering at the chill of air hitting his heated flesh.
What would Craig do in this situation? The thought sometimes crept into his subconsciousness, teasing him with the images that it stirred to the forefront. If he knew, oh god oh god. Would he touch him, grip him firmly? Would he stroke him fast or slow? He could just imagine the long length of torso that would press up against his side, the heat from that bare chest toned only from swim team and being the world's biggest marching band geek.
He wasn't sure when his eyes had squeezed shut but it only made it better, helping him pretend that it was all true, that those chapped lips were pressed rough and eager to his ear with broken skin and hot moist breath.
Tweek keened softly with the muffled shudder of a moan as he bit into his fingers to keep the sound from escaping.
"Moan for me, Tweek." Oh God would he say that? Tell him
It was too late, the words trapped and tumbling around in his head on repeat and god help him, he was complying. His knuckles escaped the anxious hold of his teeth, allowing the softest of moans free without hold. without caution.
Caution was beyond him now.
"C-Craig.."
Oh those teeth, those lips. They scraped over his neck, the metal of braces biting and scraping in the most enticing way that he wasn't aware would excite him. It was so real, the build up of orgasm starting to knot his insides as he twitched and pulsed within his hand.
And then there was a new hand, a new hold joining his own, startling as it sliced into the haze of his lost mind. It was a warm hold, tight and firm like he needed, the fingers more calloused and longer than his own.
His breath hiccuped, eyes cracking open with difficulty to stare down at the hand tangled with own, the thumb smearing precum across the head of his cock. "O-oh.. Oh God."
Okay so maybe he wasn't pretending, maybe it was real. Either that or he was a master of hallucinating.
But it was happening.
It was real.
And holy shit the things Craig was whispering into his ear was making his face turn the deepest shade of red imaginable, vulgar and aroused.
"Craig.. Craig.."
He was close, so close, twitching and pulsing and squirming hard against the solid chest pressed tightly against him. His fingers curled against the taller male's very solid, very real arm, gripping hard as his nails scraped the skin.
"Who knew you could be so naughty, huh Tweek?"
Tweek moaned aloud, the others words driving him crazy as his nails sank in even deeper, drawing a hiss from the swimmer. Craig pumped him faster in turn, the slightest flick of his wrist added to the mix. He arched with a strangled sound, so close so close and-
"Cra-" He jerked, arching sharply this time. Craig himself had leaned up a little to watch the flustered red of the others face, the way his mouth fell open and pale blond hair stuck to his forehead. His other hand gripped the sharp angle of a bony hip, holding the squirming blond in place as he slowed, pumping him dry more casually now until Tweek was left a boneless heap.
And then there was reality right there, holding a bat and ready to beat him with sense.
"O-oh oh oh oh GOD!"
"Tweek. Come on. No panic attacks right now."
"But you- but I- NGH." He shook and shook hard, anxious and uncertain as his heart pounded with nerves rather than lust now.
Craig simply stared down at him with a raised brow. "Look, everything's fine. I don't even care that you were casually jacking it while I was sleeping, man. I think I've evened it out well enough."
He wasn't.. angry? Well, he guessed it was true, if Craig hadn't liked what he was doing, he wouldn't have..
"Besides, you're really cute all flustered and turned on."
"But-.. Craig, I don't-.. What does this-" He couldn't finish, uncertain and unsure if he should even ask.
"Well it can be whatever you want it to be."
It almost unnerved him rather than settled him over how calm Craig was, even now. It was the way he was looking at him that really did the trick and the way his voice seemed a little softer and less recklessly blunt.
Tweek paused.
"I-.. I like.. you."
Oh.. he wondered when Craig would give him that smile, the idly amused one.
"And?"
He floundered, red again. "I don't k-know! Ugh."
Another pause, more tension this round until Craig broke it, shrugging so nonchalantly before easing himself down onto Tweek's small bed to press against the skinny blond again. "Works for me."
"Works for-"
"Yup."
Craig Tucker was a mystery most days and it was always the simple little things that got him when he wasn't even trying. Like the way he was chewing his bottom lip or his sharp nose bumped the blonde's ear with the slightest hint of nasally breath as allergy season came.
And you know, he guessed it worked for him too.
Whatever it was.
And the telltale length of hardness pressing against his thigh, the subtle twitch of slender hips despite Craig's everlasting calm told Tweek that it probably wasn't over either.
Craig leaned into the hood of the car, staring down into the mass of engine, piping and metalwork that made up Randy Marsh's Ford. He leaned in, rag in hand as Stan stared on irritably, unwilling to believe his dad's truck could just break down just as they were getting into the mountains. He'd never had a problem with his car, but they'd all decided that Stan's Saturn wasn't big on going over rough roads. However, he hadn't considered the age of his dad's old truck when it came to driving a few hours away up into the mountains of Colorado.
And then there was Craig Tucker.
“This is stupid.”
Stan glanced up a moment before he shook his head, arms crossed to keep warm.
Of course, it was just him.. and Tucker.
Why did he agree to this? A camping trip along with an asshole? He didn't care how sympathetic he was to the death of a pet, this had to be the single most idiotic thing anyone could have come up with, bribe or no bribe.
“Some of this shit is loose.”
Another glance accompanied by an impatient snort.
Well, he supposed it was lucky that Craig worked with Kenny as a mechanic part time. It still didn't change how much of a bad idea this was bound to be. But still the taller of the two worked on, reaching about and fiddling with things Stan couldn't see. It was a wonder to him the other hadn't burned himself or caused an explosion as Stan surely would have done if given a moment alone with the engine.
It was getting dark, something that wasn't sitting well with Stan. He didn't like driving the mountain roads at night. He wasn't sure he'd ever known anyone that did.
“Hey, Marsh.”
Stan looked up once more, brow raised but Craig hadn't moved from where he remained hunched over into the hood. “What?”
“You know how your balls get sweaty and stick together? And then it starts to get irritating and uncomfortable so you have to reach down and shift them?”
The shorter of the two furrowed his brow quietly as he stepped forward to stand next to the other male who's arms reached down into the piping around the engine without hesitation or pause. Stan's nose wrinkled quietly at the sudden odd topic, confusion laced across his face. “Dude.. what?”
“Just answer.”
“...I guess so.” Sure, he knew.
“It's really inconvenient.”
“Well, yeah dude.” Especially in the summer, Stan mused silently. Or when there's a lot of people in the same room as you, girls in particular. It was like burping loudly at a fancy restaurant when the atmosphere is really quiet or picking at a wedgie while on stage during a play.
“Especially when your hands are covered in grease.”
Stan slowly turned his head to face the other as his expression slowly took on one of slowly dawning shock as he gave Craig a flat stare that the taller didn't bother to return.
“Marsh.”
“No dude.”
“I don't want to get grease on my jeans, Marsh.”
“Stop calling me that, Tucker.”
“Stan, scratch my balls”
“Dude!”
Craig turned his head and fixed the other with a flat stare in turn as Stan regarded him with a scandalized expression.
“Please, just scratch my balls.”
“Craig, what the ever loving fuck!?”
“It's not gay if you just shift them a little.”
“It's totally fucking gay!”
“Stan.”
“No.”
This was absurd, this was gay as hell, this was-
“I'm not going to fix the truck then so that we can sit here all through the night while it gets colder and colder and-.”
“Fine! Fine for fuck's sake I'll scratch your damn balls!”
The smallest of smirks found the corner of Craig's lips and he turned his head back the to engine. Stan floundered a moment, face red as he stared at the taller male in disbelief. He paused a moment and rubbed at his face, gathering his wits as Craig continued on screwing with whatever it was he was so determined to fix. He was evidently not going to bother telling him what it was that needed fixing.
“You're an asshole,” Stan grumbled softly, earning no response from the other. He couldn't believe he was doing this. It was so stupid.
Stan leaned over quietly, awkward reaching in the gap between Craig and the truck created from the way he leaned beneath the hood. His hand grazed the front of the others jeans, cheeks flushing dark with embarrassment as he looked away. Reaching about blindly now, his hand trailed inbetween his legs and haphazardly began to press this fingers into the thick jean material without thinking.
Oh God that was the last thing he wanted to do; actually think about awkwardly touch Craig's testicles.
"More to the left."
Stan stared up silently a moment, a cross between angry and mildly digusted. "I hate you."
"You really suck at this ball scratching thing. Your balls must really hate you."
Stan's nose scrunched up with distaste. "Well I'm not exactly trying to properly scratch your nuts, dude."
There was a soft snort in reply. "Well you are properly fondling them."
"I-! YOU-!" Stan snatched his hand away as if he had been burned, his cheeks red as he scrambled to stand properly. The taller male laughed softly, his face still turned away as the other stomped around the truck and angrily snatched the door to the driver's seat open.
"Fuck you, Tucker!"
The door promptly slammed shut with the force of his irritation and shame as he crossed his arms, hunching in the seat with his nose wrinkled and brow furrowed. It was almost as if he was a child all over again, tricked into eating broccoli or something equally unpleasant. He flushed darker still, the heat spreading across his face as he realized he could practically still feel the warmth of the other male in his hand even despite the thick barrier of Craig's jeans.
Stan groaned softly, rubbing his face quietly with what he considered his uncontaminated hand before a loud shriek and slam of metal startled him. Craig stared at him from the front of the truck a moment, the hood freshly closed now as he seemed to snort to himself with silent amusement. He stepped around the truck as he seemed to just take his time before he finally pulled the passenger door open and clambored in.
Now let's fill the silence with something of a more awkward flavor.
"Well? Start the truck."
He stared at the mechanic for a moment, his annoyance still evident. Craig made an impatient gesture before flipping the other off as he pulled his seatbelt on. Stan grunted quietly as he finally started the engine while a sigh of relief as it finally roared to life. He pulled his own belt on absently as he pulled them out of the emergency dirt trail next to the mountain road and back onto the asphalt, thankful to be able to get out of there before the sun fell from sight completely.
Craig scrubbed as his grease blackened hands alternately with hand sanitizer and the hand towel he'd been holding from the start as Stan glanced at him.
"Uh.. thanks I guess. For getting my dad's truck going again."
Only silence and yet another rude gesture bore his reply.
Oh God this was stupid. So terribly and unbelievably stupid and.. and wrong.
The thought did nothing but driving itself deeper and deeper into his brain even as he watched his computer screen blink to life, already in the states of starting up despite Stan's doubts and sweaty palms.
Doubts about what he'd do once he got onto the internet.
It was all Kenny's fault, it always was. All he could do was wish his perverse friend had never made the suggestion or even told him about that website, or what people did on it. Curiosity was eating away at the back of his skull like a damn tumor, consuming his ever wandering thoughts and making him incredibly nervous all at once.
What was worse was how it all started, the reason that he hated the most out of all the things to start this catastrophic snowball of bad decisions. It was such a small thing yet so colossal, that Wendy had broken up with him after years of dating. It was strange how something so seemingly simple as a relationship could turn a cool-headed guy like him, or so he'd like to think of himself, into such a hormonal and needy ass. One slip of the tongue was all it took to what was arguably the worst person to admit such an issue to, an issue the end of that very relationship caused.
And of course, Kenny, being the kind of guy he is, took it in stride. Though that wasn't always the greatest thing in the world.
Kenny likes playing girls in rpg's, online ones in particular. Often, in the high graphic games, it's so he can watch the boobs bounce on his own character or generally admire her and say to himself 'Yes. I am hot.' or something equally silly or narcissistic.
When it comes to online games, he likes to play a girl, building his character up to be pleasantly desirable and high leveled, to screw with all the creepy straight guys out there. Nothing pleases him more than grossing them out when they realized they were indirectly flirting with a boy all along.
And when it's another girl, well.. you get the idea.
Filmore's always been chasing after Ike Broflovski since they were kids, both hating and idolizing him. All it takes it one little awkward sleepover for him to realize the Canadian machine might be more human and warmer than he thought. Mature.
Warning: Might be considered dubcon or act as a trigger to some due to sleep fondling, proceed at your own risk.
"It's late, go home already."
"I can't."
"You have to be kidding."
"I'm not."
"I don't understand."
"There isn't anything to understand or is it too much for you to comprehend that I'm staying the night?"
Filmore was astonished, flabbergasted at such an idea. It had been bad enough that the small adopted Canadian had shown up at his door with their class project in hand, but now-.. He couldn't seriously be considering staying the night? That was simply too ridiculous of an idea. An idea that simply didn't happen and one that he wouldn't allow.
"No."
Ike was a robot, a mechanical thought processing machine that very nearly drove him mad with irritation, with wonder.
"No, what?"
He was his nemesis, the absolute thorn in his side that beat him in every area of academics.
"You aren't staying."
There was a pause, a stretch of silence between them that Filmore was very nearly drowning in from the way the younger boy's glasses seemed to regard him. He couldn't reach through that glass, that barrier, no matter how he tried and it was always that same calculating look that regarded him so closely. It was unnerving and yet thrilling to wonder what the small genius was possibly thinking.
Above all it was daunting. Did Ike function like normal people, ever? From the moment he'd walked into the two-story home, the adopted Canadian had set to work writing and putting the poster board together on the floor of the older boy's bedroom with precision and careful thought. At a point he'd even tried bribing the other into going home, assuring he'd get his end of the project to him if only to remove his source of uncomfortable awe from his sight.
But Ike was quick, his tongue not lacking in clever responses.
Stan has this terrible sort of problem regarding his nervous stomach and wetdreams where he has a tendency to puke after having one. The first time he ever had one about Wendy, he didn't even make it out of the bed and instead ended up hurling all over himself.
So while most guys only worry about the morning clean up or waking and having to take care of it, Stan sometimes ends up having to run to the bathroom in the dead of night to throw up like a champ.
Now let's imagine him having a wetdream about a boy for the first time.
At some point in his life Ike started having a bit of an issue he himself wasn't even aware of in his sleep.
He was a sleep talker.
The small 'problem' began to stem from Ike's lack of social life and constant control on himself and his emotions. He was so shut down at school, unwilling to show others much of himself once they all got passed elementary school, that only in his sleep does he willingly and openly speak his mind. Granted, he was never afraid to say what he thought in public, but he always chose not to whether it was because he didn't think it was worth it or simply didn't feel like it.
So in his sleep, he communicates with honesty and the emotions he actually feels such as how much it bothers him deep down that others always put him on a pedestal and left him alone.
Kyle always knew about it and has on occasion used it as a means to find out if his brother was okay.
Another issue he has is that he cuddles in his sleep, something Kyle never dared tell him because he found it too amusing and so always kept it to himself. It was Ike's means of finding physically affection from others when he otherwise wouldn't.
Or something like that, I'm working on this ever so slowly.
I imagine that once Ike reached puberty he was monumentally frustrated with himself. It wasn't so bad until he reached about his mid-teens and then faced a difficult issue now and again upon waking as well as facing spontaneous erections.
What frustrated him was the fact that his body wasn't as advanced as his mind, so no matter how much control he had mentally, he wasn't always quite in the control seat physically.
Often, this means his body is aware of feeling affection or arousal for another person while his mind has a tendency to lag, too busy analyzing to simply feel on occasion.
Or something like that, this is hard to properly explain.
Kenny would sort of crudely construct his own training area in his bedroom when everyone was too busy with their lives to pay attention. He would string pillows up from little hooks he tacked into his water stained ceiling before popping in several martial arts movies and practicing on them.
Though sometimes it would end with him knocking little bit of the ceiling out and getting in serious trouble. At some point he started to take his show elsewhere, breaking into abandoned houses and mimicking training videos and movies there instead.
The challenge of obscure characters like Gary or Damien is we were only graced with their appearance for one episode, limiting our resources when it comes to expanding on them. But we still manage.
On the subject of Gary Harrison, I don’t see him as socially shy. On the contrary, he’s rather confident and outgoing in social situations. He’s a polite person, sharing and always willing to lend another his ear. Gary loves his family immensely, something he’s demonstrated in his episode and frequently goes out doing family events. He isn’t a shut-in, loving the outdoors and getting sun as he plays sports, but he does enjoy video games just as much as the next boy. He isn’t pegged as the gaming type by others for one reason or another.
As an older person coming into adulthood, Gary’s responsible, smart, and still that all around outgoing guy. However, he’s smarter to the troubles of the world now, more learned in the ways of reality. He isn’t completely naive though he’s surprised sometimes with the difference between his childhood and the childhoods of others. He can present himself as innocent in a childlike manner, playful and happy, but he does this to put others at ease. It is from habit that he always portrays himself to be the guy that everyone can depend on, the guy that gets good grades, the guy who never does wrong. He handles his emotions with care, trying to be open-minded when it comes to new situations or the opinions of others. Sometimes he’s hurt by the insults of others but he does his best not to show it.
I see him as being a bit different from his family, more insightful and adventurous when it comes to life. He has dreams to make more of himself, more of a difference to the world than a missionary, something that he keeps to himself.
When it comes to him caring a great deal for someone, he starts to show the pieces of himself that are affecting by the harsh realities of the world. Gary shows that he can be hurt and that he can get angry, he laughs more and smiles more happily than he does when he just thinks it’s the right thing to do in that moment. He can be mischievous, playing harmless pranks and inciting play fights. He’s generally respectful of the personal space of others though he can be naturally touchy in a completely platonic affectionate way to people he’s close to.
As for the sexual aspect of Gary Harrison that I see.. this is a tough one to explain.
Gary isn’t oblivious. He knows, maybe not as much as the next boy, but he isn’t a fool. He isn’t completely naive though he can be easily caught off guard. When Gary’s curious about something, he looks into it, he researches it and tries to understand. It’s against his religion to touch himself or have sex before marriage. However, it isn’t against his religion to love another man, but it is to have sex with them. That being said, Gary is more reluctant and perhaps even shy when it comes to the topic but stays honest. He sees no point in doing something if you can’t admit you’ve done it despite his easy embarrassment. If someone were to make advances that he couldn’t reciprocate or wish to, he’d decline them without hesitation, firm to refuse any misunderstandings. When it comes to someone he likes, he has no immediate qualms with admitting attraction if confronted.
My preference for Gary being gay is simply a preference and I’m careful with it. Gary has no problems with girls romantically, he finds them pleasing and appreciates them as providers. His problems lies with the fact that though he finds them attractive, he doesn’t personally find them attractive in the way that matters. He isn’t blatantly homosexual or the like, his sexuality hard to completely guess for any person who associates with him because of his habit to keep his views on attraction or otherwise to himself.
When it comes to sex itself, well it depends on the situation itself if it came down to him actually going through with it. I’m going to leave this part out since it can happen so many different ways.
After moving to England to pursue Gregory, he secured a job in a bookstore beneath a feisty old woman named Mrs. Habersham. He primarily works the store in the afternoon until closing time at night though he takes the time to open shop with her in the morning before class. She’s a sassy old lady that works him hard, won over by Gary’s ability to charm children.
Mrs. Habersham owns a cockatoo named Babelle, a play on her late daughter’s name, that warmed up to Gary rather quickly. When her owner retires upstairs, he totes her around himself, carrying on his shoulder as he goes about his duties. Babelle likes to coo at him with dove sounds, calling him ‘sweety’ and bird kissing him by bumping his lips with her beak when he’s busy doing his homework on break.
She puffs up around Gregory, ruffling her feathers and trying to play intimidating because she thinks the Englishman’s after her ‘mate’, something Gary finds hilarious. After a while she starts calling the other man ‘pretty bird’ though she still doesn’t seem to accept him completely.
Gregory considers Gary some sort of disney princess.
Because Ike is nearly over 2 years younger than everyone else in his grade, he doesn't really consider anyone his real friends. It tends to come down to that others either try to suck up to someone considered a genius or tease him due to his body not matching his brain. After a while he became the closet school type, quiet and studious at school yet rather normal and open at home.
Ike was once bullied by the other boys in school but it didn't last long, the younger Broflovski boy preferring not to retaliate or bother giving them the time of day.
However, living with Kyle and hanging out with his brother's friends on occasion led to a small incident where he spiked the food of his bullies with some secretive substance, leaving them all with a nasty case of the stomach virus. With no evidence that he'd been the one that had done it.
Because you simply don't mess with a genius.
In regards to Filmore, the older boy has a tendency to chase after him in a jealous fashion. The two always seem to have a one sided rivalry from Ike's lack of concern for the others competitive antics as they got older. He came to appreciate the low insults and lame remarks simply because Filmore preferred to insult him to his face rather than behind his back. It slowly came to Ike looking forward to what the older boy would toss his way next, only ever expending energy on a comeback or two for him rather than anyone else.
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