South Park Wendy Fanart Novels & Stories

When the period was over, I asked her enthusiastically, "So, do you like comic books in general or just Batman and Superman?" Wendy smiled and replied that she was Team DC, but the Marvel movies were fun. "But I have bad news for you," she said playfully. "Oh no!" I smiled. "The Packers suck ass. Cowboys all the way!" Uh. Oh. I wasn't crushed that she liked another team, but that she brought that subject up in this context was... Wendy laughed at my alarmed expression. "Oh calm down. You look hilarious," she said, still smiling good-naturedly. "You had to have known that Elaine and I have been friends for years, right? Girls talk."

I couldn’t say no to Wendy. "Alright, I'll go to the comic convention with you!" "I'll pick you up at 5 PM today. Be a good girl and wait for me at home, okay?" "Got it!" I smiled helplessly and hung up the phone. Wendy loves anime and has collected many anime figurines. She's a regular at comic conventions both domestically and abroad. I've been to two with her but couldn't adapt to the atmosphere. Wendy noticed my discomfort and hadn't invited me for a long time.

she says, and I freeze. She doesn’t notice the way the word pierces me. She says it so casually, like it already is, like I already am. “Thanks, kid,” I manage. “You did all the hard work though.” We spend the next half hour taking photos of her latest crayon masterpieces. Wendy poses next to each drawing like it is a gallery showcase, complete with hand motions and exaggerated descriptions. “This one is a tiger, but he’s also a prince. See the crown? But it’s made of leaves because he’s a forest king.”

Their leader, Wendy Savage, was already screaming herself hoarse. “That’s my big brother!” Wendy yelled, jumping so hard her blue ponytail whipped wildly behind her. “That’s my brother! Did you see that strike?!” The girls around her laughed and screamed louder, feeding off her excitement. Wendy was impossible to miss. Nineteen years old, electric blue hair styled into a high ponytail, glitter dusted across her cheeks. She was beautiful in a bold, fearless way. She clutched her pom-poms to her chest, eyes shining.

"Do whatever you want." Wendy's face brightened with a grateful smile. She spun around, sweeping her gaze across the hall until it landed on the painting at the far end of the wall. "That painting..." She tilted her head, studying it for a long moment. “May I hang one of our wedding photos here?” My heart clenched. That painting. My first pack hunt—I'd taken down a full-grown stag on my own. A wolfless Omega bringing down a stag had been the talk of the entire pack.

"Maybe. But I'm not running a charity. If she doesn't meet my standards, she doesn't get to stay. Simple as that." Wendy weighed that for a moment. Then said, "Fair enough." After all… as terrible as that ex was, could he really be worse than Carter or Nate? One more flea on the dog wouldn't make a difference now. … On Monday morning, Sharon had just dropped Matty off at kindergarten when her phone rang. Wendy's voice was panicked. "Sharon! Someone threw paint all over our studio!"

Keira grinned. "Dang. Ian is not here to give me that," she grumbled as she took notes. Wendy's Room Wendy was humming a Christmas song; however, it sounded more like a horror theme. "All I want for Christmas is you," Wendy sang as she cut photos of Keira’s face out of an original photo of the couple. She burned Keira’s face as if chanting a spell and then pasted her own face over it. She continued until the door opened. She stopped and glanced toward it.