Author's Note: Hello friends! So this is a bit weird and unexpected, but I'm back after about 7 years! I highly doubt that anybody who is on here would remember me because it's likely an entirely different crowd. I used to write almost exclusively Style fanfictions back when I was a lonely little 13 year old girl. (Feel free to ask me for the username, but I don't want to post it just because it's the same name as some of my other personal socials). I've left them up this entire time, and they still get favourites and subscribers every once and awhile. I'm starting fresh with a new account because, well, I'm a 21-year-old who is about to be a university graduate pretty soon, and I never thought I'd be back on here, but sometimes life just inspires you to get back to what you know, right? Anyway, without further adieu, here's my first South Park Fanfiction in nearly a decade. I'm going to draw from some real world experiences that I've had in my short time as an adult, so my fingers are crossed that nobody that I know reads these. But, if they do, hello friend!
Picture this. You're walking home from work one day and everything seems normal. You pass the same houses that you always do, listen to the same playlist since you can't figure out how to download a new one, and everything is the way that you think that it's supposed to be. That is, until it isn't. Because you get home and she's standing there, but she's not supposed to be standing there. She's supposed to be at home in her pajamas working on her homework. Not in your driveway with a look on her face that screams that everything is about to change.
"Wendy? What are you doing here?" You call out. You don't even want to know.
She doesn't speak until you get closer.
"Stan… We need to talk." And just like that, you do know. Because what else could there be to talk about? You don't want to do any talking. You've spent the past four years trying to talk about things that you knew, deep in your heart, could never be fixed. But you can't just walk straight past her and head inside, because that would defeat the purpose of a break-up.
"Are you breaking up with me?" You know, but the words come out anyway. For clarity? Closure? You shake your head the second that the words escape your lips, because once those words came out, it was over, and there's no going back once they did
"I just… I just need some time."
Isn't that a worse excuse than "it's not you, it's me?" Because when you're in love, shouldn't the time that you need be with the one that you love, and not apart? But you know that you're not in love. Or at least not the way that you're supposed to be. It feels like a cop out and a slap to the face, but if she starts telling you the real reasons, you're just going to be left standing there feeling like the bad guy.
So you stand there, thinking about what to say. Nothing is processing other than the shock, and you know that once you absorb this, everything is going to crash. But you can't seem weak in front of her, because she always thought that you were weak and you resented her for that. So you go out strong, and you don't cry. Instead, you ask to kiss her goodbye.
"I don't think that it's a good idea," she tells you.
"I don't really care what you think right now. I'm going to hug you and kiss you goodbye, because if I don't, I'll spend the night trying to remember the last time that I got to kiss you, and I don't want that."
She kisses you, and it's not a Wendy kiss. It's a stranger's kiss, and not the kind that you've fantasized about where you stand in the dark and make love to the new girl at a bar. It's the kind where you just want it to end because there's nothing to gain. No love, no sex, it's just lips. You hug her, and you can't tell if it's her body or yours that is limp.
What else is there to say? Is it better to speak or to be silent? Do you even dare ask if you did something wrong?
"Are you sure I can't change your mind?" Slips out, but only because you know that there's nothing that either of you could do to bring back the magic that was there four years ago. The idea of fighting for her disgusts you, and you suddenly realize that you haven't been fighting for her this entire time, but you've been fighting for the part of yourself that wanted out. And the part of you that wanted out also wanted somebody else.
Author's note: So I started writing this and planning on it being a one-shot, but I realized that I have a lot more material in this plot to move forward with a longer, chaptered piece, so please subscribe and stand by for more! So who did Stan want out for? Find out within the next week for more! 😊