#jittersandcoffeebeans

[the-riot-raiders]

Idk what to name it

@jittersandcoffeebeans

Talyn wandered South Park with her Red hair tied back in a ponytail, noticing Tweek up ahead she beamed jogging up to him. "Hey Jitterbug" she smiled embracing the blonde carefully from behind, "how's my favorite Blonde Spazz?"

[suckasstakenames]

🍹 ~

It’s around 4 in the afternoon, the beginning of Clyde’s second class of the day. However, it was the first he’d actually attended. The first half of his day consisted of sleeping through his alarm, missing the entire of his Sociology lecture, and resorting to binge watching Friends and drinking beer up until it was time to go to Speech class. The only problem is....Clyde got a little carried away and downed 6 and a half cans of beer, enough for him to be just a little over tipsy.

Clyde walks into the classroom, trying his hardest not to trip over his own feet. He was surprised he’d made it here; for a moment he thought he would have to stop by the restroom and bring back up the cheese pasta he’d eaten for lunch. The lecture is only an hour long....all he had to do was sit there, listen and do what he was told to do, then he could go back and nap. Simple enough, right?

He approaches the seat at the back of the room that he always sits at, next to his good friend Tweek Tweak. It works well for the both of them; Tweek can sit away from everyone else and not feel like the professor is watching his every move, and Clyde can slack off when he needs to and gossip without being noticed. His entrance was far from discreet though. When going to sit down, Clyde’s behind completely misses the seat and he slips off the side. And if that didn’t earn enough glances from everyone else, he proceeds to blow a raspberry immediately after, clearly amused by himself. 

Clyde shifts back onto the chair, slouching slightly, and turning towards his friend seated next to him. “Hows it goin’ Twinkie~” He snickers.

[cheylouwho]

Chey chey you still got the twitch of that person who always streams sp when it airs every year?

https://www.twitch.tv/thecloakedsinner

I dont know if theyre streaming this year but this is them! If not, SUPTV usually streams

[netherborn]

* / /  @jittersandcoffeebeans​  gets  a  gift.   ♡

        the  entirety  of  kenny’s  left  side  has  gone  numb,  and  he  is  beginning  to  think  that  it  may  NOT  be  a  good  sign.  for  a  short  while,  it  had  felt  as  though  he  might  black  out,  but  now  he  is  standing  on  only  MODERATELY  wobbly  legs,  hand  cradling  the  leaking  GASH  spanning  the  curvature  of  a  heaving  rib  cage.  the  lights  in  TWEEK  BROS’  are  dimmed,  but  not  completely  off;  from  outside,  from  beneath  the  shadow  of  hood  and  from  behind  the  cutout  eyes  in  a  black  mask,  kenny  spots  the  fidgety  blonde  counting  money  at  the  register,  and  sucks  in  a  GASPING  breath  of  cold  air.  relief  floods  his  lungs  as  he  stumbles  to  the  door,  streets  graced  by  emptiness,  brazen  actions  sourced  without  fear  of  discovery.

        wherewithal  of  decency  to  knock  on  the  glass  panes  does  not  EXIST.  urgency  has  taken  its  place,  spooking  tweek  be  damned  -- -  a  bloody  hand-print  paints  reflective  surface  in  vivid  hues,  and  kenny  would  laugh  at  just  how  COMICAL  it  is  if  he  didn’t  feel  like  he  was  about  to  pass  out  from  blood  loss.  or  WORSE.  he  is  almost  positive  that  there  is  a  bullet  lodged  somewhere  important,  and  if  he  FELT  like  it,  he  could  just  FINISH  what  the  burglar  had  STARTED,  but  he  had  used  his  own  final  bullet  to  disarm  and  incapacitate.  any  other  way  out  would  be  far  too  messy.  so  he  remains  here,  on  the  cusp  of  life  and  death,  stumbling  forward  and  crashing  against  the  coffee  shop  storefront.  kenny’s  hand  drags  streaks  of  crimson  down  with  him  as  his  legs  give  out,  having  decided  that  they  have  given  all  they  have  to  give.  

        “Shit.”  the  curse  rolls  off  his  tongue  as  his  spinning  head  falls  back  against  the  stone  of  the  wall’s  lower  portion.  even  if  he  does  end  up  dying,  at  the  VERY  least  he  got  to  do  it  somewhere  FAMILIAR.

[suckasstakenames]

Closed starter /w @jittersandcoffeebeans

It was late afternoon, and the sun was starting to set. Main street was cleared of residents, all but one. 

Mosquito, or better known as tenth grader Clyde Donovan, wasn’t looking his best to say the least. He wasn’t wearing his usual red and brown beanie, instead he chose to carry it, stained with a different shade of red. His jumper was also bloodied, torn at the bottom, and his sash was hanging on by a thread. His nosepiece was now being worn around his neck, crumpled up like it had been in a hydraulic press. His face was tear-stricken, swollen and bruised on one side, blood trickling from his lip and nose. His gloves were missing, revealing his hands to have been cut up like a cat had used him as a scratching post. It was clear his injuries weren’t just external, since he walked down Main Street with a slight limp in his step, holding his stomach in pain. He was in search of anyone at all who would help him.

Looking up and ahead, he spots someone he recognises; it was a fellow superhero. Clyde sighs in relief, it was like his prayers were finally answered. He tries to yell but his mouth is in too much pain, so he shuffles a little bit quicker in that direction. Hoping the hero would turn around and notice him. 

[mother--tucker]

veiled wonders (closed rp)

Soulmates. That’s what they were called. Each individual was predetermined to one even before their birth, whether they be much older than you or even younger, shorter or taller, cocky or kind. They were all different, and they couldn't be changed, not for any reason. They were the yin to your yang or vice versa, created to balance a person out. Some happened to show up earlier, some later, whenever in your life they were needed. The person you'd spoken to for years only to realize you two were meant to be? The explanation was plain and simple.

No person alive knew how they were generated. Some assumed it was coincidental, while more thought that the universe had something deeper to do with it, as if the reasons were rooted somewhere yonder the unknowns. It was impossible to find out. Science couldn't speak, either.

It wasn't impossible to find yours considering how easy it was told to be; you'd know if you were meant to be by the first greetings you exchange. If the two of you were each other's, your partner's words would engrave themselves into your mere skin in prominent, black ink, like bark markings on a tree. In any case, that wasn't to say it was easy. It could be anyone, from any part of the globe.

They came to you, not the other way around.

Few stupidly paid millions to find theirs, while for others a walk in the nearest park was all it took. They were naturally drawn to each other, and it seemed like everyone cared about searching for their significant others. The stories that were told, the glory and the benefits...

Frankly, Craig Tucker didn't care.

In fact, he was the only one in South Park -- the few in the world -- who couldn't care any less about it. By then his peers had already found theirs; Stan and Wendy, Clyde and Token, Kyle and, unfortunately for him, Cartman. There were few more others, but he and Kenny were one of the couple who remained alone.

Being nineteen, his parents hadn't approved of him playing as a lone wolf. They'd wanted him to look and settle down with -- hopefully -- a nice person. Too bad for them he hadn't been too interested. He currently had other things to ponder about other than finding someone he most likely wouldn't ever meet. There was a chance they were already dead, anyways. It didn't happen very often, but if your soulmate were to die, you could physically feel a piece of your heart shrivel up.

Or maybe he didn't have one, which rarely happened.

Who cared?

The teen had been sitting alone in the small coffee shop that day, typically minding his own business, face sporting a blank outlook, which wasn't anything new. He was in the middle of using his laptop to write something up, because hey, free wifi, something his parents had grounded him from. It wasn't like he drank any of that coffee stuff. Maybe sometimes, but it wasn't what he liked.

He wasn't expecting anything spontaneous at the moment. It would be a problem if he were. He was busy. He could keep his mind off it.

@jittersandcoffeebeans