#High Quality Cotton T-Shirt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeytonedhottie · 10 months ago

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HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE july edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

welcome back to honeys it girl magazine, this is the july catalog. get ready for the inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. a magazine for it girls ✨ and now please enjoy, the it girl magazine.

in this addition i've experimented with new sections (like the horoscope section) so i hope that u guys look forward to it and if u have any more suggestions for the magazine feel free to share and without further ado, lets get into it with some beauty talk…💬🎀

BEAUTY SHOPPING LIST ;

�� kiko milano lipgloss

♡ L.A girl glitter spray

♡ cotton candy baby lipgloss from victorias secret

i've gone for more tubes of cotton candy baby because its just SUCH a good lipgloss but i recently lost mine and its been on my list to get next time i go to the mall…💬🎀

♡ crispy marshmallow bars body wash from philosophy

ugh just the NAME of this soap sounds absolutely delicious and im dying to try it out. im a big fan of the philosophy body washes anyways because of the quality and scents…💬🎀

♡ coconut craze lipgloss from victorias secret

♡ pink mimosa lipgloss from victorias secret

another thing that i wanted to talk about in this months beauty column is the DIFFERENCE that blush placement makes. so i was scrolling on pinterest when i came across this chart that talked about blush placement.

when you apply blush a certain way it balances out ur beautiful features and plays around with proportions in such a way that can make ur features more prominent. also the way that u apply ur blush totally changes the way that ur makeup looks.

for example when u apply blush to the apples of ur cheeks it gives a more youthful and glowy effect. when u put blush high on ur cheekbones it gives a more lifted and sculpted look which is where the blush chart comes in. depending on ur face shape u can determine which style of blush placement complements ur pretty face the best 💗

WHAT R WE LISTENING TO? ;

the most listened to album i've listened to all month has been butterfly by mariah carey. it was released in 1997 and every single song on that album is a total MASTER PIECE. some of my favorites include

♡ honey (DUH)

♡ babydoll

however that album is from 1997 so lets talk about some new music that i LOVED that also dropped this month…💬🎀

♡ brat- charli xcx

♡ muse - jimin

another album that has been gathering lots of attention on lots of social media platforms is ice spice's Y2K album and i've seen a lot of mixed reviews about it. personally im not a fan of the album, my favorite song on the album is did it first but im not a fan of the album as a whole. im curious though to hear what your thoughts on the album are…💬🎀

FASHION FLOPS VS FASHION BOPS ;

in this column, lets look at some old and new fashion trends and see which trends are flops and which ones are bops. my sources include vogue, and glamour magazine…💬🎀

according to vogue, statement gowns are OUT and discreet chics are IN. discreet chic is mixing basics in minimalist yet compelling ways. this includes things like trench coats, pencil skirts, trouser suits and good jeans.

according to glamour magazine, crisp whites and butter yellows are trending this summer. along with sequins and basics like denim pants and white t-shirts, polished kitten heels and mary jane flats also. the styles that are trending for this summer are boho 3.0 and little white dresses.

something i can DEF get behind is little white dresses. its like a blank canvas on which u can make the outfit into whatever you want. personally i would style a tiny white dress with chunky bracelets and wedges/kitten heels…💬🎀

LETS TALK MANIFESTATION ;

manifestation techniques are overrated - all you have to do to manifest is affirm -> persist. thats essentially all you have to do and when i first started i was so caught up in techniques and routines that i wasn't even affirming/persisting. i was doing anything and everything and i saw manifestation as a process and manifestation is NOT a process. when i shifted that and realized that manifesting is instant and all techniques are for funsies, the pressure was taken off.

this is an excerpt from my manifestation opinions post and i've released this poll to talk about what manifestation topic you guys would like me to talk about and the winner was saturation so lets talk about it. so what does it mean to saturate? i got this question a while ago in my inbox so im just gonna copy and paste my response.

saturating is simply soaking ur mind in the fact that u already have what u want. i do this with affirming, some people do other things to saturate but affirming is the most simple for me. just think as if u have it over and over and over again…💬🎀

you can saturate for hours at a time or a little bit everyday it doesnt rly matter its just thinking over and over again. i saturate while listening to music, playing video games, doing mundane tasks etc. all i do is think my affirmations and thats all! if theres something specific that u guys are curious about with saturation lemme know in the comments but its super simple bcuz MANIFESTING is super simple.

JENNIE KIM STYLE DISSECTION ;

jennie kim is a fashion ICON. i swear every photo that i see of her, her outfit, hair, face, everything is absolutely perfect. jennie's style is very posh and feminine. and a rly great example of this would be her look below. i love how she color coordinated her hair accessories to her outfit and the black and pink is so ICONIC cuz she was a black pink member.

shes rocking her trademark chanel in the form of a waist chain and everything just goes together beautifully. jennie knows how to mix posh and hyper femininity in her outfits super well and we can see that in her next outfit…💬🎀

THE CHANEL CHAIN AHHH IM OBSESSED. in the next outfit shes rocking a red two piece with buttons that just add that very chic and posh look. her chanel chain is such a statement piece and her matching chanel purse, shes literally chanels princess atp.

WHATS MY HOROSCOPE (JULY 22-29) ;

♡ its leo season and leo season is all about TIMING. you will receive ur answer very soon, listen to ur intuition and notice how everything is coming together for you. while you’re shining in the moment, remember to think about the future when mercury enters virgo and your value zone on thursday. you’ll want to go over details with a fine-tooth comb, so take your time making decisions. don’t rush into anything!

♡ for aries the next four weeks are ideal for enjoying entertainment, starting hobbies, and expressing yourself. indulge in the pleasures that summer has to offer without burning your life down.however, while you enjoy the rest of your summer, consider getting your life in order when mercury enters virgo and your productivity zone on thursday. the retrograde will be here shortly, aries, so take this time to get your ducks in a row.

♡ for taurus, start the week by practicing self-care when the sun enters leo and your home zone on monday. the next few weeks could be a little hectic, so try to spend as much time as you can with your loved ones. be generous with your time by hosting family dinners and small parties.despite the upcoming retrograde, you’ll still have plenty of opportunities for some fun when mercury enters virgo and your creativity zone on thursday. this is a great time to busy yourself with creative projects, flirt with people, and entertain yourself with concerts and movies. have fun!

♡ for gemini, you’ll have a flair for the dramatic over the next few weeks once the sun enters leo and your communication zone on monday. everything you do and say will be bold and vibrant. your social calendar will be full of summer activities, so enjoy yourself without getting exhausted.get ready to become the family problem solver when mercury enters virgo and your home zone on thursday. it seems like everyone is coming to you to fix their lives before the retrograde, so this is a great time to focus on domestic issues. remember to set boundaries so any family drama doesn’t bring you down, gemini.

♡ for cancer, as your season comes to an end, your mind will be on your financial security when the sun enters leo and your value zone on monday. however, if you want any luxury in your life, you’re going to have to work for it. this is a great time to start side hustles and invest in things that matter to you. say what you mean and mean what you say when mercury enters virgo and your communication zone on thursday. this transit gives you the ability to cut through the chaos and get to the truth of any issue.

♡ for virgo, spend the rest of your summer break away from the madding crowd when the sun enters leo and your privacy zone on monday. over the next few weeks, you might feel the need to retreat from the world and focus on yourself. give yourself a mental and emotional cleanse before your season begins. your communication skills get a major boost this week when mercury enters your sign on thursday. while this is a brief reunion before the retrograde, this is a great time for new beginnings and getting your point across. speak with confidence, virgo.

♡ for libra, you’ll be feeling like a social butterfly over the next few weeks once the sun enters leo and your friendship zone on monday. this is a great time to hit the summer parties and make some connections. you could even meet your new besties. have fun! however, you might feel the need to retreat into yourself when mercury enters virgo and your subconscious zone on thursday. perfectionism could lead to your undoing as you come to terms with what’s working and not working in your life. focus on how to fix these areas without overcorrecting, libra. analyze your dreams to find clarity.

♡ for scorpio, despite being in the heart of summer, you’re more focused on building a reputation and making a name for yourself when the sun enters leo and your public image zone on monday. over the next four weeks, go after your ambitions and stand out from the crowd to get noticed by the right people. you’ll be especially interested in your personal aspirations when mercury enters virgo and your humanitarian zone on thursday. you have some big dreams, so lay the groundwork to get them going. make a wish, scorpio. it might come true.

♡ for sagittarius, start the week on an adventurous note when the sun enters leo and your expansion zone on monday. the next few weeks will give you opportunities to expand your horizons, for better or worse. this is a great time to travel or interact with people from different walks of life. as we get into the heat of summer, start thinking about your future when mercury enters virgo and your career zone on thursday. this is a great time to think about your professional goals and how you can get ahead in the workplace. think smarter and harder, sagittarius.

♡ for capricorn, the start of the week brings changes to your life when the sun enters leo and your transformation zone on monday. you might feel like a phoenix over the next few weeks as you sit with the ashes of your former life. while the sun shines a light on everything that is hidden, you’ll need to decide what to let go of, capricorn. class is in session when mercury enters virgo and your expansion zone on thursday, especially since this transit will give you plenty of lessons to learn, for better or worse. this is a great time to expand your mental horizons through education. it could change your life.

♡ for aquarius, “me” turns into “we” over the next few weeks when the sun enters leo and your partnership zone on monday. this is more than just a summer fling; it’s the real thing, so lock it down now. however, make sure to balance your time together and apart or it could cause some drama. read between the lines and you can uncover hidden meanings when mercury enters virgo and your intuition zone on thursday. trust your gut, aquarius, because it can guide you through the hidden motives others might have for you. be careful, and don’t make any big decisions before the retrograde.

♡ for pisces, even in the heat of summer, you’ll still have plenty of work to do when the sun enters leo and your productivity zone on monday. work on taking care of yourself through self-improvement. what do you want to get better at, pisces? try it out now. the rest of the summer could be intense, so make sure you have a buddy to help you through when mercury enters virgo and your partnership zone on thursday. this is a great time to end all conflict and work on agreements before the retrograde hits. compromise is key, if you’re willing to work at it.

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venusdotcomm · 11 months ago

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toy [t·oy]

noun: toy; plural noun: toys; modifier noun: toy

an object, especially a gadget or machine, regarded as providing amusement for an adult.

— content index; fleshlights, “creampie” , twitter porn

— authors note; some more horny bullshit for the masses <3 can you guys tell I like writing for armin? also ! feel free to send suggestions, i need inspiration.

armin got a new toy.

sure, it only took a total of six months and thirteen days to gather the courage to buy one in the first place, but, he got one, and boy was it pricey.

is this really something I want to spend my hard earned money on?

he asked himself as he watched the money leave his account, along with his dignity. he felt like a complete loser, that feeling only intensifying upon receiving his long awaited item.

ever since he moved away for college, armin has made a vow to unshelter himself little by little— not that it was his idea to begin with. connie and eren were often the type of people to make decisions for him, and he was the type to go along. (ahh, the art of peer pressure.)

it’s just something to start…

that’s what he told himself as he tore open the box, tape sticking to the cotton of his white t-shirt as he hastily attempted to pull it off. all he wanted was to get his hands on it, to feel the soft, squishy silicone under his finger tips. to get his money’s worth out of this hunk of high quality plastic.

he felt like a joke. a complete and utter joke.

that wasn’t gonna dissuade him from using it though.

he was only human, right? he had needs and wants like everyone else…he deserved to have something nice to help him take care of them.

that was his excuse for the way he fucked himself silly. hot pants leaving his lips as he replayed the video for the umpteenth time, getting lost in the throaty moans of some trashy pornstar he found on twitter. liking the way her voice made his cock throb each time he buried himself to the hilt, stretching out the silicone with every slaphappy thrust he made until his hips haulted and all he could do was whine. his jaw going slack as he emptied himself into his newly purchased toy, eyes locked on the set of tits that were displayed on his laptop screen.

god, he was such a loser.

but at least he’s got a new toy.

#letters from venus #aot smut #armin arlert smut #armin smut #armin arlert #aot fanfiction #aot #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin arlert x reader #armin aot

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quapri-giftings · 3 months ago

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Pima Cotton T-Shirt Luxury

Quapri, where style meets comfort in our luxurious Pima Cotton T-Shirt . These t-shirts are the perfect addition to your wardrobe, crafted from high-quality Pima cotton. Available in both men’s and women’s styles, our tees embody the essence of casual wear while offering a touch of sophistication.

Pima Key Features

Premium Pima Cotton: Enjoy the superior softness and luxurious feel of Pima cotton, known for its high-quality and breathable nature.

Crew Neck Design: The classic crew neck style provides a timeless look that suits any occasion, making it easy to dress up or down.

Durable Fabric: Our t-shirts are made from durable materials that maintain their shape and color, ensuring long-lasting wear.

Versatile Fit: Featuring a flattering fit for any body type, these tees are great for layering or wearing on their own.

Sustainable Fashion: Pima cotton sourced ethically reduces environmental impact from your wardrobe choice.

Casual Comfort: The perfect t-shirt is ideal for everyday wear, bringing comfort into your wardrobe whether you’re working or just home.

Fashion Basics: These tees are wardrobe essentials that go well with anything. They need to be in your wardrobe inventory.

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mysteryshoptls · 1 year ago

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SR Jamil Viper - Luxe Couture Vignette

"If I let this opportunity pass me by"

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Jamil: So, this is the "world's most beautiful plaza", the luxury shopping arcade Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: It's no wonder that the passage is lined with high-brand shops.

Ace: Woah! I totally dig those clothes in that shop's window! I'ma check 'em out.

Jamil: Hey, Ace! Ah man, I'll go and bring him back.

[Grim, Vil, and Azul look exasperated]

Shop Staff A: Welcome～!

Ace: Woooah! There's a ton of cool-lookin' clothes and accessories! This's so awesome!

Jamil: Hey… Don't just run off on your own. Come on, we're heading back to Vil-senpai.

Ace: It's just a little peek～ I saw somethin' I liked. Like see, like this T-shirt…

Ace: …Urk, it costs 100,000 Madol [1,000 Thaumarks]! That's waaay too expensive for me!

Jamil: That price is fairly standard for a high-brand shop… Hm?

Jamil: This stitching… It's pretty shoddy. Looks like they're using pretty low-quality cotton, too.

Jamil: Strangely, this doesn't look like the sort of thing that would be sold at this price.

Ace: Huh? Aren't T-shirts all made of the same stuff?

Jamil: Sure. But high-brand T-shirts are generally made with high-quality cotton.

Jamil: Better quality cotton is soft and have a nice feel to it.

Jamil: Not only does it not wrinkle easily, but when the cotton is made into T-shirts, it keeps its shape for longer and makes for a nice silhouette.

Jamil: The design of these other shirts isn’t too terrible… But the fabric quality is just too low.

Jamil: There's no way a shop selling at this level can have a store in the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: Which means… They must have lowered the quality of their material after opening. Did they run into some kind of business issues?

Ace: Hey! That jacket's so rough-lookin' and cool! Excuse me, I'd like to try this on!

Shop Staff B: Ohh my, I'm sorry. I'm afraid that jacket cannot be tried on here.

Jamil: …

Ace: Huh? Really?

Shop Staff B: That's right. That is a really pricey jacket. If it is somehow dirtied or damaged, it would be on the customer to compensate the loss, wouldn't you say?

Jamil: …So essentially, he has to decide to buy it or not without trying it on?

Shop Staff B: Well, I guess that's right.

Jamil: …Would I be allowed to try these slacks on?

Shop Staff A: Unfortunately, that won't be possible either. Sorry.

Jamil: Ah, right. Thought as much.

Ace: C'mon. Isn't that a stupid rule?

Middle-aged Man: Oh nice, this is a pretty nice shop. The prices seem pretty reasonable, too.

Shop Staff B: Oh, what an important looking customer! Welcome～! Is there something in particular you're looking for?

Middle-aged Man: I'm wanting a jacket, see… Think you have something that'll suit me?

Shop Staff A: Well, if that's the case, how about this one? It's one of our most popular designs.

Shop Staff B: I'm sure it will be perfect for you. Please, try it on!

Ace: Wha―!? But when I asked earlier, they said it wasn't allowed to be tried on!!

Shop Staff A: Students like you can't possibly buy something like that, so there's no reason for you to try it on, is there?

Shop Staff B: Please go home before you start to disturb our other customers. We don't have the free time to be dealing with you two.

Ace: Huh...!?

Jamil: …Not only are their products low-quality, but so are the staff's customer service.

Jamil: There's no reason to stick around in a shop like this. Let's go meet up with Vil-senpai and the others.

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Ace: Wha was that all about, treatin' us like dirt just 'cause we're students!? That was terrible service. That pissed me off so much!

Ace: First they shoo us out, then they play all buddy-buddy up to the rich-lookin' guy.

Jamil: I bet that since they've been rubbing elbows with the rich and famous while working at that high-brand store…

Jamil: They've completely started to think that they've improved their own social standing.

Jamil: Thinking about those sorts of folks and getting upset about it is a waste of time. Just shake it off.

Jamil: Only the best brands, in both name and reputation, will flourish here at the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: I can't tell if they had a change in management since opening, or if they've suffered business losses…

Jamil: But from what I saw, I can't imagine that place continuing to be suitable for this passage.

Jamil: Even if we do nothing, I'm sure they'll have no choice but to close down eventually.

Ace: It could ruin a brand's rep if they got kicked out of the Crystal Galleria. That'd feel sooo good to see, though!

―The next day

Jamil: I really can't relax at all while at Vil-senpai's side. I'll have to relax as much as I can during my personal free time here.

Jamil: Maybe I'll check out the café at the far end of the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: Hm? This shop looks… I guess I can check it out.

Clerk: Welcome! Please feel free to look around.

Jamil: …This place is completely different than the one yesterday. Now, where's that outfit I saw in the window…?

Jamil: Ah, here it is. I thought it looked like a pretty nice jacket from outside, but the pockets and lining give off a more casual feel.

Jamil: This isn't something I see often. The material is good and the sewing and embroidery is delicately done…

Clerk: Would you like to try it on? Come this way.

Jamil: Thank you.

Jamil: Yeah, the size is good and it fits well. I think this color also actually goes well with the clothes I brought with me, too…

Jamil: …How much is this jacket?

Clerk: That would be 50,000 Madol [500 Thaumarks].

Jamil: I see. Would you allow me to think on it?

Clerk: Of course! And please take your time to look at our other items.

Jamil: A 50,000 Madol jacket… That's a bit of a steep price for me… Hmm…

Jamil: The fabric's quality, the design, and the superb stitching make this very high quality…

Jamil: If I think of those factors, even 50,000 Madol is fairly cheap. Also…

Jamil: I've found this in the Crystal Galleria, of all places. If I let this opportunity pass me by, there won't be another chance to buy something like this.

Jamil: …Excuse me. Could I purchase the jacket I tried on earlier?

Clerk: Absolutely. I'll go fetch a new one for you. Please wait a moment.

Jamil: Sure.

Jamil: …I was able to buy a sensible jacket from a reasonable shop here in the Crystal Galleria.

Jamil: Yeah. I'm definitely satisfied with this. And I'm sure this'll be a great memory.

[Fairest City – Queen's Palace]

Shop Staff A: KYAAA! VIL-SAMAAA! YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL!!

Shop Staff B: SO BEAUTIFUL! I JUST HAVE TO GET A PICTURE OF THAT STUNNING FACE!

Jamil: Hm? I think I saw those two screaming fans over there yesterday...

Shop Staff A: Oh, look! Do you think those guys walking alongside Vil-sama are models too? Should we ask for an autograph?

Shop Staff B: EXCUSE ME!! PLEASE GIVE US YOUR AUTOGRAPH!!

Jamil: …Hahah! You sure you want my autograph?

Shop Staff B: Absolutely! …Wait, huh? I feel like I've seen him before…

Shop Staff A: Wait! Isn't he that customer that we turned away yesterday…!?

Jamil: I'm honored that a mere student like myself would stir your recollections.

Shop Staff A: Wh-Who would have thought he'd be so famous to walk the tapis rouge…? And he looks so good in that outfit!

Shop Staff B: If we had sold clothing to those boys yesterday, it might've been such good publicity!!

Shop Staff A: H-Hey! Once you're finished here, would you care to come visit our shop once more?

Shop Staff B: We have a collection of garments that would look fabulous on you! Please allow us to design your new look!

Jamil: I have to decline. Your shop does not have any article of clothing that would suit me.

Jamil: After all, just as you said yesterday, there is no need to try anything on.

Shop Staff A/B: U-Uhhh… So when we said that yesterday, uh…

Jamil: If that is all, perhaps you should head home now? Not only are you bothering others around you…

Jamil: But I also do not have the free time to be dealing with you, either.

Requested by @ordinaryanon.

#twisted wonderland #twst #jamil viper #ace trappola #twst jamil #twst ace #twst translation #twst tapis rouge #mention: vil

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femmefatalevibe · 2 years ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: Fall Wardrobe Essentials

Staple Tees:

**Purchase in Modal, Pima cotton, or a cotton-cashmere blend**

Fitted crewneck tees (long-sleeves/tees & tanks for layering)

Relaxed fit long-sleeve tees

Turtleneck long-sleeve top (fitted & relaxed fit options)

Contour bodysuits

Blouses/Shirting:

Silk button-down blouse

Cotton button-down blouse

Silk shell top/t-shirts/camis (for layering)

Sculpt knit top(s)

Self-tie wrap blouse

Shirred boatneck, mock neck, or cowlneck silk blouse(s)

Leather button-down

Knitwear:

Thin cashmere/wool crewneck sweater (fitted/relaxed fit)

Thin cashmere/wool turtleneck sweater

Chunky relaxed-fit cable knit sweater

Knit polo-neck sweater

Cashmere sweater vest (crewneck, v-neck, and/or turtleneck)

Mockneck cashmere/wool sweater

Cashmere long-sleeve sweater dress

Cashmere/knit skirt (mini, midi, or maxi - depending on your personal preferences)

Sophisticated coordinating knit set (top/pants or skirt of your choice)

Casual knit set (top/pullover and relaxed fit pants)

Cashmere cardigan

Cable knit cardigan (doubles as a light jacket)

Bottoms:

Black straight-leg jeans

Black bootcut/flared jeans

Black straight/bootcut trousers

Wide-leg trousers (I love a solid black, black pinstripe, and black with lace-up detail selection)

High-waisted leather pants

Split hem trousers

Stretch jersey/cashmere pants (straight-leg or flared)

Quilted leather/tweed mini skirt

Knit/wool mini and/pencil skirt

Leather skirt (mini or midi)

Silk midi skirt

Dresses/Jumpsuits:

Knit/sweater dress

Little black dress (shift dress/A-line cuts are great)

Blazer dress/jumpsuit

Slip dress (for layering)

Minimal black jumpsuit ("LBJ")

Leather and/or denim dress or jumpsuit

Jackets & Outerwear:

Black tailored blazer

Leather blazer

Tweed jacket

Trench coat

Leather moto/cropped/bomber jacket

Black wool coat

Raincoat ( I like Rains for high-quality options on the affordable side that are still built to last for several seasons)

Statement jacket/coat

Footwear:

Sleek flat/low-heel black boots with a pointed-toe or square-toe silhouette (I love Vagabond, Jeffrey Campbell, Vince Camuto, and Sam Edelman for more affordable, high-quality options)

Black loafers/sleek black flats

Black lace-up boots

Black heeled boots

Black pumps

White sneakers

Rain boots (I recommend the Melissa Shoes Welly/Grip/Step boots or a stylish, sustainable, and more affordable option)

Accessories:

White/black ankle & crew socks

Black control top tights

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Chunky/small chain necklaces & bracelets

Simple pendant necklace(s)

Pearl necklace

Simple diamond studs

Crystal drop earrings

Minimalist bangles

Stackable rings

A sleek, minimalist black tote (can fit a laptop for work/travel)

Black shoulder bag

Small black bag (top handle, crossbody, etc.)

Statement bag/evening bag

Cashmere scarf

Silk/decorative scarf

Fingerless/touch-screen friendly, lightweight gloves

Lingerie/Loungewear:

Seamless bra/underwear

Lace bra/underwear

Matching pullover cotton sweatshirt/sweatpants

Knit or jersey cotton top/lounge pants set

Luxurious pajama set (silk, Tencel, cashmere, etc.)

A to-die-for piece of lingerie like a lace slip/silk teddy

Silk or cozy robe

Cozy open-back slippers

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dodi-45 · 5 months ago

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Quality You Can Feel 👚💎

When it comes to clothing, especially T-shirts for girls, there’s one thing that stands above all else: quality. At Dodi Store, we understand that a great design is only one part of the equation. To create a truly exceptional T-shirt, it’s essential that the fabric feels as good as it looks. That’s why we’ve made sure every T-shirt we sell is crafted with care, using only the softest, most breathable fabrics that provide comfort all day long. 🌟💖

Soft and Breathable Fabrics for All-Day Comfort 👗✨

Whether your little one is running around the playground, hanging out with friends, or sitting through a school day, comfort is key. That’s why our T-shirts are made from fabrics that feel amazing against the skin. We use premium materials that are gentle, soft, and breathable, so she’ll never feel itchy or overheated. These fabrics are designed to keep her feeling fresh and comfortable, no matter what the day brings. 🌞💕

Imagine her wearing a T-shirt so soft, she feels like she’s wrapped in a hug all day. At Dodi Store, we’ve made that a reality. Our fabric allows her skin to breathe, keeping her comfortable whether she’s outside enjoying the sunshine or inside cozying up with her favorite book. 📚🌸

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reveryfics · 1 month ago

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i hope everything is going well for you !! don't know if you'd do another deep request,, but he's the only one (of the seven,,) who'd i'd imagine with a !reader like this lol.

the deep x supe ! reader (reader with similar abilities to the regenerating saliva thing? except, it gets people high lol. due to this, reader is just. constantly 'high'. reader is either the most miserable person or the most chaotic person. why not both? perpetual state of "what the fuck is going on" and "what is real and what isn't?"

either deep or homelander preferably !! idm lol

🪲 anon

Euphoria

Kevin Moskowitz "The Deep" x Male Reader

Summary: Possessing the extraordinary gift of healing even the gravest injuries with your saliva, you became a fixture within the highest echelons of the supe community, providing a weaker version of your unique talent. The only issue, your healing enzymes shared properties with cannabis, resulting in your constant state of a euphoric high and a subtle high for anyone you treated.

A/N: Anon thanks for checking in, I'm doing okay. I've personally only gotten high a couple times, so I'm simply mixing my experiences.

TW: Soft angst - Comfort - Cannabis - Bodily fluids (Saliva)

The air in your apartment clung to you like a damp shroud, thick and stagnant, carrying the ghost of forgotten meals – a faint, sour tang that never quite dissipated. A lone lamp in the corner, its bulb struggling against the encroaching darkness, cast a weak, jaundiced circle of light that did little to dispel the gloom. It barely touched the monumental heap in the sink, a teetering ziggurat of dirty plates, bowls stained with dried remnants, and a chaotic jumble of cutlery – a silent testament to days blurring into weeks, marked only by the necessity of sustenance.

Across the worn wooden floor, crumpled clothes lay scattered like vibrant, discarded petals against a backdrop of muted beige walls. A splash of color in the otherwise dreary space, they spoke of hurried undressings and a lack of care. The bed, a once-ordered piece of furniture, now resembled a storm-tossed sea of tangled sheets and a twisted duvet, stubbornly resisting any attempt at neatness.

On the lumpy, stained couch, you were a figure of stillness amidst the chaos. Your usually meticulously styled hair now fanned out across the dusty cushions in a web of tangled strands. Your eyes, the whites faintly webbed with red and holding a distant, unfocused quality, stared blankly at the flickering images on the television screen. The shifting light painted fleeting shadows across the sharp angles of your face, cruelly highlighting the heavy, bruised shadows that clung beneath your eyes like permanent fixtures. Your frame, already slender, appeared almost gaunt beneath the loose, faded fabric of an oversized t-shirt and baggy pajama pants, the ridge of your spine a stark, visible line beneath the stretched cotton. The tinny sounds of the television – a canned sitcom laugh track – filled the oppressive silence, a hollow, jarring counterpoint to the profound stillness of the room and the aching emptiness that resided within you.

Empty beer bottles, their labels peeling and condensation rings marking the dusty floor, formed a haphazard perimeter around the couch. A scattering of empty chip bags, their silver interiors crinkling softly with any slight movement, added to the debris. You reached a languid hand towards the remote, its surface sticky to the touch, and mindlessly flicked through the channels. Each fleeting image – vibrant commercials, shouting pundits, glossy dramas – offered no purchase for your vacant gaze. Finally, you landed on the droning voices of the news anchors. A sigh escaped your lips, a puff of stale air that did little to alleviate the pressure in your chest. You set the remote back down on the cluttered coffee table with a soft clink and pushed yourself into a sitting position.

The room swam for a moment, the edges of your vision softening and blurring, but it was a familiar sensation, a constant companion you had long since grown accustomed to. It was the price of your powers, this perpetual, low-grade euphoria that felt akin to being perpetually stoned, as if you had inhaled your own weight in cannabis. It had leached the joy from your life, turning simple tasks into monumental efforts. Some days, you were a fixture on that couch, a motionless form refusing the insistent buzz of your phone or the concerned voices that occasionally filtered through your door. You envied the normalcy of those you helped, the fleeting buzz they experienced compared to the relentless tide that washed over you daily. Functioning was a herculean task. Holding down a proper job was a distant memory, relationships withered and died, and even the basic act of self-care felt like climbing a sheer cliff face. Your existence was funded by the grudging payments from Vought, your sole purpose the continued well-being of their volatile top-tier supes.

With a groan, you pushed yourself up from the couch, your body swaying precariously before you managed to plant your feet firmly on the floor. A dull ache throbbed behind your eyes. You dragged your feet across the room, lazily bending to pick up the scattered trash that littered your path, your attention only half-engaged with the news anchor’s monotonous recounting of recent city attacks. Their voices seemed distant, muffled, barely penetrating the persistent pounding in your head. You bent down, the plastic of a discarded bottle cool against your fingertips, and tossed it into the overflowing garbage bag you held open. Straightening up, the television screen flashed with grainy live footage of a chaotic fight, the speed and intensity of the action a blur you couldn’t quite follow.

You tossed the overstuffed garbage bag into the overflowing can in the corner, the thud a small punctuation mark in the otherwise silent apartment. Padding back through the living room, your bare feet barely registering the sticky spots on the floor, you sank back onto the worn cushions of the couch. You had barely registered the familiar face that flickered across the screen, contorted in a mask of pain and agony as a dark stain bloomed rapidly across the vibrant green of his suit. Admist the ever-present euphoric haze, a sudden, sharp clarity pierced through. Those unmistakable ocean blue eyes, the tight, familiar green fabric – it was Kevin. A wave of nausea crashed over you, a sour bile rising in your throat. You scrambled off the couch, your limbs clumsy and uncoordinated, and stumbled towards the bathroom, the contents of your stomach emptying violently into the porcelain bowl.

You fell back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathtub, your hands tangling in your messy hair as ragged breaths hitched in your chest. The world spun, the fluorescent light above making your head throb. With a shaky push, you propelled yourself off the floor, gripping the cold edge of the sink counter for support. You stared at your reflection in the fogged mirror, a pale, gaunt face staring back, your mouth wiped roughly with the back of your hand. You haphazardly reached for your toothbrush, the minty paste a stark contrast to the lingering taste of bile. A quick, perfunctory brushing, and then you were stumbling into the lukewarm spray of the shower, the water doing little to wash away the clammy film that coated your skin.

You stood in the dim light of your bedroom, completely naked and still damp from the hasty shower. Your dark hair clung to your scalp, beads of water tracing cold paths down your skin. You picked up a discarded shirt from the floor, holding the soft fabric to your nose, inhaling deeply to determine its cleanliness. With a shrug, you pulled it over your head, the familiar scent immediately enveloping you. It wasn't yours. It was Kevin’s, a lingering reminder of a recent, intimate night. You slipped on a pair of well-worn joggers, the fabric soft against your bare legs, and stumbled through your apartment towards the door. You swung it open, the sudden influx of hallway light making you squint, your breath catching in your throat as you met those same unmistakable ocean blue eyes you had just seen contorted in pain on the television screen.

Kevin stood before you, his hand raised as if he were about to knock, his brow furrowed in a mixture of concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher through the lingering haze. Words caught in your throat, a jumbled mess of relief and lingering fear. Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Without conscious thought, you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of salt water and a hint of mint. His arms instinctively tightened around you, his lips parting in silent question. You whispered against his skin, the words tumbling out in a rush, how you had just seen him on TV, how you saw him get hurt. He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours before peering past you towards your television, the news station still flickering with images, but it wasn't him on the screen. It was some new, unfamiliar hero. A silent ‘oh’ escaped his lips as he connected your frantic words to the random bursts of paranoia that often accompanied your heightened state.

Kevin gently ushered you back into the disarray of your apartment, his eyes scanning the dimly lit space with a familiar concern. The last time he had been here, the chaos hadn't been this pervasive. Your place, while never immaculate, had possessed a semblance of order. You had been on one of your rare, clearer highs, the kind that only surfaced after a period of abstaining from using your powers. He remembered lying in your bed, his bare skin pressed against yours, the subtle, intoxicating euphoria that bloomed within him from the mere contact with your saliva seeping into his system. It wasn't an isolated incident. He often found himself drawn back to your apartment, to your bed, chasing that unique high that only direct consumption of your saliva could induce. He had spent countless nights with you in his arms, talking until the first rays of dawn painted the sky. You looked forward to those nights, those precious hours where you weren't alone in your buzzing, miserable reality, where you didn't have to constantly brace yourself for the sight of him in pain. Nights where you felt something more than that relentless, dull euphoria, where the paranoia receded, and you felt, simply, less miserable.

Kevin gently guided you to the edge of the cluttered couch, his gaze softening as he knelt down in front of you, his eyes meeting your unfocused ones. He noted the familiar glazed look, the slight tremor in your hands. "How many times have you used your power since I last saw you?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern. You couldn't quite grasp the question, the fog in your brain too thick to penetrate. You shrugged, a small, helpless gesture, mumbling something about it being enough for Vought to have their diluted supply. Kevin let out a quiet sigh, understanding dawning in his eyes. This was how it always started – the increased usage, the descent into the hazy paranoia, the unraveling of your living space mirroring the unraveling of your mind.

You weren't entirely sure what it was about Kevin, but his presence seemed to cut through the oppressive haze that clung to your thoughts. He sat beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you gently against his side. The contact was grounding, his warmth a soothing balm against your perpetually overstimulated senses. You didn't even question why he was here, too caught up in the simple fact that for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you could feel something other than that miserable, dull hum. Your body seemed to operate on instinct, a primal urge for connection overriding the fog in your mind. You suddenly rose from the couch, ignoring Kevin’s worried glance as you gently pulled him along, leading him towards the relative sanctuary of your bedroom.

You gently pushed him back against the rumpled sheets of your bed, your movements slow and deliberate as you moved to straddle his hips. His hands instinctively came up to grip your waist, his fingers digging slightly into your skin beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. You leaned down to kiss him, a desperate plea in the gesture, but he turned his head slightly. Usually, Kevin’s judgment was clouded by the intoxicating allure of that unique high, the almost addictive pull of your saliva. But now, something was different. A genuine concern for your well-being flickered in his ocean blue eyes, overriding his usual desires. "We can just lay here," he murmured, his voice a low hum against your ear. "You don't look good, an-" You cut him off with a sudden, desperate kiss, your hands clutching onto the front of his shirt, bunching the soft fabric between your fingers. "Shut up," you whispered fiercely against his lips, the words laced with a raw desperation. "I need this. I need that feeling."

Kevin hesitated for a fleeting moment, his gaze searching your face, before his own desire, mixed with a reluctant understanding of your need, won out. He returned your kiss, his arms wrapping around you, his movements gentle as he carefully flipped your positions so you were now lying beneath him against the mattress. He was more tender than usual, each touch imbued with a deliberate care, as if he were afraid of further fracturing your already fragile state. He slipped his hands beneath the fabric of his shirt, his fingertips lightly tracing the curve of your waist, a possessive yet gentle touch. You slipped your tongue past his lips, running it slowly over his own and then the inside of his cheek, the subtle taste of him a familiar comfort. Your eyes fluttered open, your pupils blown wide as you watched the rhythmic bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, the anticipation building within you. The high, that familiar rush, spread through his body, a visible shudder running up his spine at the overwhelming sensation. Kevin pulled back slightly, a thin string of saliva connecting your parted lips, his own ocean blue eyes wide and slightly unfocused as he looked down at you, finally experiencing, even in this diluted form, the constant barrage of sensation that was your daily reality.

His mouth crashed back down on yours, a groan escaping his lips as the full force of the high slammed into his brain. Every nerve ending seemed to ignite, the world around him dissolving into a kaleidoscope of heightened sensations. Your taste, the feel of your skin beneath his hands, the frantic rhythm of your breathing against his – it all intensified tenfold. His heart hammered against his ribs, a wild, erratic beat mirroring the chaotic symphony of sensations flooding his senses. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper into the kiss, desperate to chase the fleeting euphoria.

You pulled back, your breath fanning across Kevin’s flushed face, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. The constant, miserable hum that usually vibrated beneath your skin had been momentarily replaced by a wave of pure, unadulterated euphoria that spread through every fiber of your being. Kevin collapsed beside you, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, a mirror of the vacant gaze you so often wore. His hand found yours amidst the tangled mess of comforter and blankets, his fingers lacing through yours. He turned his head to face you, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your lips before whispering, the words thick with the lingering effects of the high, "I love you." You didn't know if it was the intoxicating rush coursing through his veins, or if he truly meant the words, but in that moment, nestled in his arms, finally feeling something other than the crushing weight of your constant high, you didn't care. For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of something you actually liked.

#kevin moskowitz #kevin moskowitz x male reader #the deep x male reader #the deep the boys #dc the boys #dc x male reader #dc fanfic #mlm #fanfic #fanfiction #x male reader #xmalereader #requested #supe reader

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hunnysnoops · 1 year ago

Text

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Seven: You Are Going to Hate This

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

Blackout and I need to sit and I wrote this, but it don't mean shit. Why can't I be like you? I miss you and I let you down and your voice is the perfect sound. Why can't I be so cool?

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: No one thought the school lock-in would go well, they just didn’t know poorly it would play out.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury / mentions of disease / crude language and humour

MASTERLIST

There wasn't much you had been looking forward to about the school lock-in, the only thing that had slightly piqued your interest was competition. While various activities were being hosted in numerous classrooms, you were prepping yourself for the volleyball tournament in the gym.

A large sum of your friends were on the volleyball team and were also warming up. They had all paired up with each other and as you arrived at the school late, everyone already had a partner, leaving you with Andrew who was talking himself up but didn't have the skills to match.

"What's straight edge?" Annie asks from next to you where she spikes the ball across the net to Nichole, her eyebrows furrowing as she reads your shirt "You're not straight."

"No, it's like a punk movement from the eighties that was against drinking and smoking," You toss the ball high into the air and send it over the net with a satisfying smack. Andrew fumbles the return, the ball bouncing off his forearms and rolling away. He jogs after it, muttering an apology.

"So why are you wearing that?" She's even more confused at the answer. You were wearing a black loose T-shirt made of soft, high-quality cotton. The front of the shirt prominently features a bold white 'X' across the chest, above the 'X' where the words 'STRAIGHT EDGE' in bold lettering. The design includes a small graphic of a broken cigarette and an overturned bottle beneath the text. The back of the T-shirt has a minimalist design with the phrase 'LIVE CLEAN'. Anyone who knew you well had been casting you questioning glances.

"It's a thing for my dad's work, he asked if I could wear it and I said yeah," Your dad worked at a non-profit youth center and that week they were promoting drug abstinence. Weston was also given a t-shirt though he threw it at the back of his closet where it would never see the light again.

"But you aren't actually quitting smoking?"

"No, he was just so excited about it and I felt really bad because no one wanted to wear these goofy ass shirts." You serve the ball again, but Andrew misses the return once more, the ball sailing past him and thudding against the gym floor. A small knot of frustration begins to form in your chest.

"Oh my god, you're learning empathy," Annie turns her gaze back to Nichole, when the ball is headed for her, she braces her arms and bumps it perfectly back over the net.

Everyone else participating in the tournament seemed to have no issues with their partners while they practiced rallies. You take a deep breath and serve again, but this time the ball barely grazes his fingertips before hitting the ground. "Do something, bitch!" You throw your hands out, glaring at Andrew.

"Okay, never mind," Annie sucks a breath through her teeth, taking back the words she said just moments prior. She had been wearing her pink pyjama shorts with little daisies on them and a white tank top, curly hair pinned back into a French braid. Almost all of the students had arrived in their pyjamas which was the majority of some form of flannel pants and a t-shirt.

Despite your efforts to stay calm, Andrew's repeated fumbles and missed returns chip away at your composure. Each errant ball hits the gym floor with a dull thud, amplifying your growing irritation. "Andrew, get your balls in order."

"Jesus, it's not that easy," He tosses the ball up, smacking it in a feeble attempt. His hand lands on the top and sends the ball flying below the net.

"You're supposed to hit it over," You walk over to pick up the ball. Earlier when you had been looking for a partner Andrew couldn't stop talking about how good he was at volleyball but now that you were seeing him in action, you wanted to wrap your hands around his throat or maybe spike his head over the net instead of the ball.

The bandage over your nose was finally gone and the bruising was almost gone completely, all that was left was a little nick on your nose. Without the painkillers making you lethargic, you were back to being hostile.

He rolls the ball back over to you after missing another perfect serve. You move slowly to make sure he's ready for the next pass. You take a deep breath, focusing your energy on the perfect serve. You toss the ball high, your eyes following its arc. As it descends, you leap slightly, making contact with a resounding thud. The ball grazes over the net in a graceful, powerful trajectory, spinning slightly as it cuts through the air.

It's the kind of serve that you know is perfect the moment you hit it.

Instead of moving to meet the ball, Andrew freezes. His eyes widen in a moment of panic, his feet glued to the spot. The ball hurtles past him, as he shrugs away from it. You watch as the ball lands just past him with a thump. "I want a new partner, Andrew fucking sucks."

"Well, you aren't giving me much to work with here," He shoots back.

Slowly, your head turns to look at him "The only thing I would give you is a handful of antidepressants so no one else has to put up with your bitching," You say, pointedly "Get out of here."

"Eat shit and die," He stuck up his middle finger.

"Eat shit and live, Andrew," you returned the gesture, dropping the volleyball and hurryingly scattering to the whiteboard that held every pair's names. With your forearm, you wipe Andrew's name off and think of another replacement to fill the blank space. You glance around the gym seeing Stan on the bleachers and immediately mark down a name with the pink pen.

He was locked in on watching his girlfriend, he sat with Jimmy, the two chatting amongst themselves until you strolled up at record pace "Hi?"

"Hey," you smile, hands on your hips.

"W-what's with the sh-shi shirt?" Jimmy was the fifth person to question the straight-edge shirt laid over your torso.

"Where's Kyle?" You ask abruptly, ignoring the question.

"I'm pretty sure he's in Mr Dubois's classroom," Stan had been wearing thick grey sweatpants and a hoodie layered over a long sleeve despite the warm weather. You could only imagine he was suffocating under there "Why?"

"Thanks," You look towards the large digital clock mounted above the entrance of the gym, ten minutes until the tournament starts.

You sprint out of the gym, your footsteps echoing in the deserted hallway. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz softly as you race past the rows of lockers and closed classroom doors. You dart around a corner, narrowly avoiding a collision with a group of students heading toward the gym.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you dig around for his number while rushing through the hallway.

New Message-Kyle Broflovski

You: Mf where r u??????????????

You: This is super urgent

You: Right hand to god

You: I'm gonna keel haul you

You read each number carved into the plaques on the doors, searching for room 116 where Mr Dubois taught French. In almost every room there was a different group of kids doing different activities, you pass the drama room where people are huddled up in the dark and watching movies.

The art room had of course been doing pottery and miscellaneous forms of art where everyone had their headphones stuck in their ears and didn't utter a word to anyone else in the room. There were always the kids bumming around in stairwells and corners, scrolling on their phones or hitting their vapes. There was an absurd lack of chaperones.

Finally, you reached classroom 116 where the door was decorated in prints of the French and Canadian flags as Mr. Dubois hailed from Quebec and would never let you hear the end of it if you asked.

Prying the door open, you were slightly taken aback by the sight. You had anticipated it would be a couple of guys sitting around and doing nothing in particular but you were met with the sight of six desks pushed together in the center of the class to form one table and eight guys pulled around it in chairs. They all had a plethora of sheets and colourful dice lying between them.

No one noticed you come in, they were deep in a game of Dungeons and Dragons and chatting amongst themselves. Butters noticed eyes on the back of his head and turned to face you, a smile on his face "Hey," He was one of the few people who turned up in a matching pyjama set, it was light blue and satin almost matching the stark paleness of his eyes "We already started but you can join if you want."

"No, she can't," Cartman countered immediately, he was taking the role of dungeon master. He turns his attention from Butters to you "You can't play."

"I don't wanna play your gay-ass game," You wrinkle your nose "Where's Kyle? Stan said he was in here."

Glancing around at the guys sitting down at the makeshift table, there wasn't even a lock of ginger hair in sight. "Oh, he went to the bathroom," Butters said "So you're not playing?"

"No, I'm not," You say, turning and leaving the door ajar behind you while you continue your way down the hallway once again.

For a beat you stand outside of the boy's bathroom and debate whether or not to enter, glancing around to make sure no one can see you. You rush into the bathroom, slipping through the door and immediately hearing the faint sound of music. You follow the noise, rounding the corner to find Kyle standing in front of the mirror, phone in hand, filming himself lipsyncing.

The very second you laid eyes on the scene before you, you erupted in laughter like a hyena. Eyes wide and mouth agape, Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she gasped for breath between fits of laughter. "What are you doing in here?" Kyle quickly turned his phone off, tucking it into his pocket while heat rose to his face.

"Are you making a thirst-" You couldn't even finish your sentence before breaking into giggles again. Still laughing uncontrollably, you stumbled backward, your legs giving way beneath you. You reached out instinctively, hand grasping the edge of the bathroom counter to steady yourself. Your body shook with laughter, and you leaned heavily against the counter, your face flushed and eyes sparkling with mirth.

"It's not that funny," Kyle said with a straight face.

Your hand moved to clutch your stomach where your ribs were beginning to hurt from laughing so hard, a single tear spilled from your eye. "Can I watch?" You say between chuckles.

"Fuck off," he muttered under his breath and moved to push past you.

You quickly straighten up, rushing to block the door "Woah, woah, woah."

"What do you want?"

"Let's just talk for a second," Slowly you put your hands out in front of you as carefully as a bullfighter would.

"You're in the boy's bathroom," He points out.

"What? Would you rather talk in the girls?" You retort and the annoyance is clear across his face as he reaches past you for the handle but you put your hands on his chest in an attempt to keep him away from it "Okay, sorry. My volleyball partner bailed last minute," You lied, trying to make yourself sound as convincing as possible "And the tournament starts in like, five minutes. Can you fill in?"

"No," His body language was slightly tense, his shoulders hunching forward as if trying to shrink away.

"What?" You sound genuinely shocked "Why?"

"Why would I want to play volleyball for two hours?"

"Because it's with me," You try for a sweet smile but it comes off insincere. You could tell Kyle wasn't buying it as his face remained unmoved and unimpressed "Okay, well, why would you want to play DnD for like eight hours?"

"Oh my god," He turns away from you, running one hand through curly locks while he does a small pace before stopping to face you once more. Kyle hadn't anticipated making a fool of himself in front of you "No."

"Please?" You clasp your hands together like it's going to do something.

"You're friends with everyone on the volleyball team, ask one of them."

"I did and they have partners and I already put your name down to play," you suck a sharp breath through your teeth.

"Just find someone else," He dismisses and you were suddenly wishing you had knocked and avoided embarrassing him entirely. Not only was he naturally athletic but part of you just wanted to be partners with him.

"I'm actually really sorry for laughing at you, I'm learning empathy."

"You don't learn empathy, it's something you're born with."

"I'm defying the norms," You say "I swear to god I will never laugh at you again. You're right, it wasn't even that funny just a little, not a lot."

"Christ," He mutters, one hand pinching his nose bridge.

"You're the only person I trust to actually give it a shot. Please, Kyle?"

Kyle presses his lips into a thin line, rubbing the back of his neck. You can see the gears turning in his head. All he does for a minute is look at you with narrowing eyes before he finally speaks again "Okay, sure."

"Thanks," You smile brightly, opening the bathroom door and ushering Kyle out.

"When does it start?"

"Like three minutes," You shrug.

The two of you pass the door of Mr. Dubois's classroom where Cartman glares at you and Kyle "Kyle, get back here." Cartman pushes himself from his chair "We're in the middle of a campaign!"

"I don't fucking care!" You call back. When you notice Kyle pauses for the briefest moment to look into the room, you grab his wrist and pull him along. He seems a little taken aback but doesn't argue as you drag him through the hall even though he's perfectly capable of finding the gym without contact with you.

"Oh my god," Cartman utters, sitting himself back in his chair, a look of disbelief on his face. "First we lost Stan, now Kyle."

"And Kenny," Butters adds.

"And Kinny," Cartman repeats in solidarity.

"Are you straight edge now?" Kyle furrows his eyebrows as he reads the back of your t-shirt.

"No. God, why does everyone keep asking that?"

"Maybe because you're wearing a straight-edge shirt." He states the obvious.

"Oh shit, yeah," you turn back to briefly to face Kyle and crack a small smile.

You step onto the polished gym floor, the bright lights overhead casting a warm glow that reflects off the glossy surface. The chatter and laughter of other students echoed through the room.

The second you were noticed you were met with odd glances like you were dragging a corpse behind you. Everyone was already beginning to take their places for the tournament or finding a spot on the bleachers "Shit, hurry up, Goliath."

"Goliath?" He narrows his eyes at you as you begin to walk away.

"Dude, just get over here,"

Stan quirks an eyebrow, watching the two of you settle in the center of a court while Coach Dawsey barks out the rules of the tournament. "Alright, everyone, listen up!" Coach Dawsey's voice booms across the gym through the crackly microphone, immediately silencing the chatter. "Before we get started, I want to make sure everyone understands the rules for tonight's lock-in volleyball tournament."

You glance over at Kyle, who's focused on trying to decode whatever Stan is mouthing to him, his eyebrows are drawn in. You nudge him lightly, and he straightens up, shaking his head at Stan and turning his attention to the coach.

"First and foremost," Coach continues, "This is a friendly competition. Sportsmanship is key. No trash-talking or unsportsmanlike conduct will be tolerated unless I can't hear it. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Coach" echoes around the gym.

"Good. Each match will be played to ten points, win by two. We're using rally scoring, so a point is scored on every serve. You all know your positions, but remember to rotate clockwise after winning the serve."

Kyle nudges you back, whispering, "You got all that?"

You shoot him a look but can't suppress a small smile. Coach Thompson's eyes narrow in on the two of you, and you quickly return your attention to him.

"Communication is crucial," Coach emphasizes. "Call for the ball, and make sure you cover your zones. Stay alert and work as a team."

You nod, glancing around at your teammates. Their faces reflect a mixture of determination and nerves, but there's also a spark of excitement. You catch Kyle's eye again, and this time he gives you a serious nod, signalling that he's ready to contribute.

"Lastly," Coach Dawsey says, "Remember to have fun. This is about building teamwork and enjoying the game as well as winning, which is of the utmost importance. So erm, do your best out there."

With that, Coach blows the whistle, signalling the start of the tournament. Each of the four courts is split in two with two teams in each of the half courts. From the other side of the net Heather and Jenny stand, Jenny regards you with narrowed eyes "Isn't Andrew your partner?"

"What the fuck, no," You huff a laugh like the accusation was ridiculous. Jenny looks at the bracket scrawled across the whiteboard for confirmation.

The referee signals the start of the match, and the first serve comes sailing over the net from the opposing team. You spring into action, bumping the ball up to Kyle, who's already moving into position.

"Kyle, yours!" you shout, setting the ball perfectly.

Kyle leaps into the air, his form impeccable, and smashes the ball over the net. It hits the ground just inside the line, scoring the first point for your team. In truth, you hadn't expected him to be so good, the last time you played volleyball with him, you were on a family camping trip and in a continuous loop of trying to beat each other. You can't help but grin.

"Nice spike," you say as Kyle jogs back.

"Thanks, Captain," he replies, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

The game quickly turns intense. Heather and Jenny are good, but you and Kyle find a rhythm, communicating effectively and covering the court with dexterity. Kyle's spikes are powerful and precise, while your sets and saves keep the ball in play.

"Cover left!" you call as the ball comes over the net.

Kyle dives, saving it just before it hits the ground, and you quickly set it up for another attack. The back-and-forth rallies are exhilarating, each point hard-earned. Despite the competitive edge, there's a surprising synergy between you and Kyle.

As the score nears the winning point, tension mounts. It's 14-13, and you need one more point to secure the win. The opposing team serves, and the ball comes at you fast. You manage a perfect pass to Kyle.

"Yours!" you shout, adrenaline pumping.

Kyle takes to the air, his spike aimed with an almost lethal precision. The ball slams down on the opponent's side, untouched. The final point is yours. A few of your friends on the bleachers give you little cheers as the whistle blows, signalling the end of the match.

You turn to Kyle, breathless but elated. "Good shit, man."

"Thanks," He grins.

With the thrill of your first win still buzzing, you and Kyle barely have time to catch your breath before the second match is called. The gym seems even more charged now, the energy from the first game amplifying the anticipation for what's to come.

Coach Dawsey gives you both a thumbs-up from the sidelines as you step onto the court for your next match. This time, you were against Jason and Daniel. You knew Daniel was on the volleyball team, you had seen him a handful of times and he was good but you couldn't speak for Jason who seemed much more out of place than his friend. You glance at Kyle, who glances back at you.

"You good?" you ask, a competitive gleam in your eye.

Kyle gives you a little thumbs up, one hand resting on his hip. The two of you watch as your names are moved up the brackets on the whiteboard while Heather and Jenny's get erased.

The referee blows the whistle, and the game begins. The first serve from the opposing team rockets over the net. You move quickly, receiving the ball and passing it to Kyle. He leaps and spikes it down hard, but the other team manages a quick save, returning the ball with a strong hit.

"Got it!" you call, diving to keep the ball in play. You manage to pass it back to Kyle, who sets up for another spike. This time, the ball hits the ground just inside the line, scoring the first point for your team.

The match is fast-paced, the ball flying back and forth as both teams fight for dominance. You dig, set, and spike with precision, each point driving you a little more.

At one point, the score is tied at 8-8, and the tension is palpable. The opposing team serves, and you receive the ball, setting it perfectly for Kyle. He slams it over the net, but the other team is ready, sending it back with equal force.

You dive to save it, barely managing to keep it in play. "Kyle, heads up!" you shout, scrambling to your feet.

Kyle jumps, twisting in mid-air to adjust his spike. The ball flies over the net, too quickly for the opponents to react. It hits the floor. This was the part of Kyle that you admired, the competitive nature and the drive, on occasion the hot-headed insults even though you spat them right back at him.

As the match progresses, you both dig deep, pushing through the fatigue. The score inches up, point by point, each one harder to earn than the last. Daniel is relentless, but so are you and Kyle.

Finally, it's match point. The score is 14-13, and you have the serve. You take a deep breath, focusing on the target. The ball leaves your hand, sailing over the net. The opponents scramble to return it, but Kyle is already in position.

He jumps high, timing his spike perfectly. The ball slams into the floor on the other side of the net, and for a moment, there's stunned silence. You turn to Kyle, a huge grin on your face, almost vibrating with excitement.

For a brief moment, he catches himself smiling at you, the thought that an act as simple as hitting a ball over a net would make you so happy when he had seen you surrounded by everyone you've ever known with a cake in front of you and still frown.

"Got a couple more rounds in you?" You ask.

"What did you just say?"

When the match ended you had settled back into your separate groups on the bleachers and pretended that you weren't sneaking glances at his little group while you were looking at Wendy. What had really been grating you was that the doors of the school had been locked as per the name of the event, this meant that there wasn't anywhere to smoke without getting caught and you were increasingly growing desperate for that nicotine buzz, so much so that you had chewed you lip until the taste of iron flooded your mouth.

"You don't like Miles anymore?" Nichole looks towards Lola with furrowed eyebrows. Last week she wouldn't stop talking about him.

"What?" This was news to Annie "Why?"

Lola shrugs "Because he's weird, he's an asshole."

"What did he do?" Heidi asked. Everyone paid their full attention to Lola who seemed to squirm a little more with every pair of eyes on her.

"Nothing, he's just, I dunno- he's a dick."

You and Red share a look, this was code for Lola liked him a lot and he didn't return the feelings.

"Where did Wendy go?" You ask abruptly, noticing the disappearance of the girl and glancing around the gym for her.

Nellie sucks a sharp breath through her teeth, quickly looking to Lola for unspoken confirmation if she should say or not "She's with Bebe and Jenny."

"Oh, okay," You say and silence falls over the group, waiting for a bigger reaction. "I don't really care."

"It's okay," Annie nods and places a hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah, I know?"

"Yeah," Lola draws out slowly.

"Um," You brush Annie's gentle hand off and push yourself to your feet "I need to ask Kenny something, I'll be right back."

Feeling more awkward than you should've, you walked over to the group of boys enamoured in what was seemingly a deep discussion until you heard a snippet of the conversation "You're saying that if you could only eat one animal for the rest of your life it would be fish?" Kenny asks with quirked eyebrows and a slightly wrinkled nose.

"Yeah," Kyle says with a knit brow, not understanding why the boys seemed so disapproving.

"Dude, he said animal not sea creature," Cartman says bluntly.

"A fish is an animal."

"Don't start," Cartman's voice is accusatory, you can see him getting riled up already.

"I'm not starting, a fish is an animal," Kyle retorts.

"I'm talking animal-animal."

"And I'm saying fish-fish."

"That's like saying ant, that's not an animal." His face is flushed a stark contrast to the pale, blindingly bright lights overhead.

"Ants are animals, they're arthropods," Kyle's voice raises just the slightest.

Cartman huffs laugh "No they are not, fish and ants are not animals that's like saying bugs and insects are animals."

"Cartman, you are in AP biology," Tolkien throws in as a reminder.

"Yeah, that's how I know what I'm talking about."

"We are in the same class," Kyle says slowly to be sure that it sinks in.

"At least one of us was paying attention."

"A fish is an animal."

"Yeah alright buddy, you don't go to the zoo and see fish hanging around. There aren't zoo fishes."

"There's actually so many fish at zoos-

"There's fish zoos?" Cydle abruptly cuts him off, voice raising "You go to fish zoos?"

Kyle regains himself "There's so many fish at zoos that they have their own attraction called an aquarium."

Cartman shakes his head "Nope, not the same thing, that's for sharks and shit."

"Yeah, for fish."

"A shark is not a fish," Cartman starts laughing. "And an animal is something with paws and shit."

"Is a lizard an animal?"

"No, it's an insect."

"Jesus Christ," You mutter "Cartman, what's a reptile?"

"What's a human?" Cylde asks "Are we animals?

"They are literally classified as Cartilaginous fishes," Kyle ignore Cylde, his jaw is clenched tight and it's easy to tell that such an idiotic argument is grinding at his skull.

"Define fish," Cartman leans back and crosses his arms, waiting for the answer.

"You did not just say that," Kyle deadpans.

"Define fish," He says again.

"You define fish," Kyle almost spits with how fast he's speaking.

"Aquatic."

"Aquatic what?!”

"Aquatic creatures."

"So by your definition, fish are aquatic creatures but a shark isn't a fish?" Kyle asks. The vein in his forehead became so prominent you thought it might burst.

"Please tell me how a shark is a fish," Cartman tilts himself forward, closer to Kyle "Tell me what a fish is."

"They're aquatic vertebrate animals that have gills but lack limbs."

"So I was right."

"No, you aren't, lobsters are aquatic creatures, do you think they're fish?" Kyle asks and Cartman falls silent "Cartman, lobsters are not fish."

"Then what are they?"

"They're a sub-group called decapoda in the malacostracans class but they also classify as phylum Arthropoda."

"I thought they were Crustacea?" Stan chimes in for the first time since you came over.

"They are," Kyle glances back at him then to you then back to Cartman.

"So then how are they all that other stuff you just said?" Cartman asks this like he's finally got Kyle in a corner.

"Because animals are classified under taxonomic categories."

"What is that?"

"Oh my fucking god," Kyle runs his hands down his face.

"Hey, Ken," You put one hand on his bicep and leaned in to whisper into his ear "Do you have any Zyn?"

He turns to face you, looking down at your choice of clothing "There is no way you're in a straight-edge shirt and you're asking me for Zyn."

"Do you though?" With a sly smile, you straightened your posture.

He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, cut into a mullet "Pretty sure I left it in my car,"

"Fuck," Your face drops immediately, unintentionally forming into something of a pout for the first time in what must've been years.

"If you come with me we can grab it."

"Erm, I'm pretty sure all of the doors are bolted closed." You raise a brow, hand still absentmindedly resting on his arm.

"Don't worry about it," He waves you off. "But what do I get in return?"

"How about my undying gratitude?" You offered, your tone laced with mock seriousness.

"Oh, word?" He cracks a grin "I'll be back in a minute," Kenny addresses the group.

"Cool," Stan doesn't even look up at him but Kyle's eyes are trained on the way your fingers trail Kenny's arm, the touch light but lingering as you begin to walk away.

Kenny's beaten-up sneakers squeaked as the two of you crossed the polished hardwood floors of the gym and made your way into the somehow even brighter hallway "So what are your plans for the summer?"

"Mostly working I guess, I haven't made any plans so I guess I'll just figure it out as I go." You really hadn't thought about it. You knew that your parents planned a trip to Mexico to which you and Weston were not invited so the only thing that had come close to a plan in your mind was the thought crossing that you would take Weston on a camping trip while your parents were away.

"Same over here," He shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie "You still working at that restaurant?"

"Yeah, you still working at that gas station?" It had been a hot minute since the last time you had really talked to Kenny and with that simple question, you were beginning to feel guilt pile onto your shoulders.

"Yup, been thinking about picking up a second job for the summer, got nothing better to do."

"Oh, you should apply at my work, I know we're hiring prep and dishwashers," You peeped up. It would make your summer just a little better if you got to work with Kenny. Even if you weren't anywhere near to how close you used to be, it might make those tiring serving shifts covered in steak sauce, garlic butter, and tears just a little better.

"For real? Maybe I will."

You had always thought Kenny was handsome in a scrappy way like a stray dog, it was his disjointed manner that made him so endearing. "So how are we leaving the school?"

He tilted his head, gesturing for you to turn down the hallways with him "There's an emergency entrance in the woodshop but you need to stay by the door and keep it open because it'll lock me out."

"Sweet," You smile up at him, the thought of a nicotine pouch resting on your gums brought you a little bit closer to satisfaction. "We should hang out soon, it's been a while."

"Jeez, I guess it has, a month is kinda long for us or has it been longer."

"I dunno, I lost track," You narrow your eyes, trying to think of the last time you had been with him one-on-one.

He acknowledges this with a hum "There's something I had to grab from my car at some point tonight anyways so this kinda works out."

"What is it?"

"You'll see," He shrugs.

"Kenny, what is it?" Your stomach drops a little bit. Whenever he was cryptic like this you knew there was something in the works within his brain.

"Don't worry," Kenny brushes you off, seemingly unbothered as he usually was.

"Dude, I'm worried."

"Okay, well I think the Zyn will help you with that," He jiggles the handle to the wood shop and holds it open for you.

Immediately you're greeted with the smell of woodchips and little particles of sawdust finding their way into your eyes, you clamp them shut and squeeze until the burning goes away. There isn't a single person inside, you didn't really expect the dusty woodshop to be a popular place to hang out during a lock-in.

"Don't make this a regular thing, I don't wanna see you abusing nicotine."

"I love nicotine, I would never abuse it," You reach for the phone in your pocket to turn on the flash. You wanted to be as discreet as possible, Kenny quietly shut the door behind the both of you.

The woodshop was eery in the darkness, it felt like you were in a horror movie where something would crawl out from beneath the table saw and maul you into a bloody mass of flesh pulsing on the floor.

"This shit is creepy," Kenny muttered, voicing your thoughts.

"I fucking know," You answer, "You think this is where Jigsaw makes his death traps?"

"Oh, definitely."

Kenny had a hand on your back to guide you to the exit door after you had almost knocked over a shelf of students' unfinished projects. Finally, you saw the exit sign hanging above a grey door, illuminated by your flash.

"Okay, just hold the door open but if anyone comes in, shut it and text me when they leave," Kenny yanks it open and the cold air hits you, forcing a shiver out of you.

"Just be quick, please," You take a spot standing in front of the heavy door while you watch Kenny jog away and disappear into the darkness. Kenny's car was what was referred to as a shit box. Every moment you spent in it you just kept thinking 'Okay, now it's going to give out' but it proved you wrong by pushing through with every rusted turn of the wheels.

His car was at the front of the school while you were stationed beside it, arms hugging yourself as the straight-edge t-shirt wasn't helping much to protect you from the cool night that hung on the other side of the doorframe.

Every passing second that Kenny was out of sight you grew just a little more concerned, constantly glancing back at the door of the woodshop. All of the blades and intricate machines seemed menacing when the only light that gleamed off the razor-sharp edges came from your phone.

"Keep the door open!" You hear Kenny's voice off in the distance.

You squint at the dark silhouette that is coming towards you full throttle with something being carried in front of him "Ken, what is that?" As his figure gets closer you can see the item he's holding is moving and squirming in his grip "What the fuck is that?"

The second Kenny steps foot inside you back away from him and let the door lock. He has a huge smile on his face while holding a raccoon underneath its armpits, his bottom half swaying slightly with every movement.

"That was the thing you had in your car?!" You can't help but shout, face contorted in horror at how easy-going Kenny was about holding a wild animal.

He grins mischievously. "Thought it'd be funny to let this little guy have a stroll, he's chill, he'll probably just walk around. Just a harmless prank."

Before you can protest, he loses his grip, and the raccoon drops to the ground with a thud. For a split second, it looks stunned. Then it bares its teeth, hissing angrily. Panic sets in as the raccoon charges toward you both.

"Fuck!" You shot away, weaving through the rows of workbenches and tools, careless not to knock anything over. You kept looking back at the feral animal charging you, bumping down projects and bottles of wood-blinding glue.

It was moments like these when you were glad that you ran track, not that you had ever been pursued by a feral animal before. You had started track initially to be sure you could run in a zombie apocalypse scenario and this was similar enough.

You throw the door to the woodshop open, Kenny follows behind you, regret obvious on his face. The hallways echo with the sound of your footsteps and the angry chittering of the raccoon. You glance back to see it gaining on you, its eyes glinting in the dim light.

Kenny splits down another hallway while you keep running straight, the raccoon chooses to follow you. There isn't anyone in the halls, all you can hear is the chatter within the classrooms. While you were sure you could fight a raccoon, you didn't want to risk the chance that it could bite you and you would forever be the girl who got rabies from a raccoon.

Kyle casually walks down the hallway in your direction, waving when he spots you "Why are you running?"

"Fucking run!" You shout gesturing for him to move in the other direction. He doesn't fight you on this, instead running next to you, trying to decode why you were frantically shifting your gaze all over the place.

"What's going on?" He asks, confusion clear across his face.

You ignore him, eyes catching on a classroom door which is slightly ajar, you snatch his hand and make a B-line for the class, yanking him in after you and shutting the door. You run your hands down your face, chest rising and falling with every shaky breath.

"Is there a shooter?"

"No," you say "It's a raccoon."

Any worry on his face drops immediately "Be serious for a minute."

"I'm so serious Kyle and that thing is insane, it's out for blood."

"Did it bite you or something?"

You yank out a chair from beneath a desk and plop yourself down in it "No and thank god." A scream sounds from somewhere down the hallway and Kyle's eyes widen "We gotta let them fend for themselves, don't be a hero."

"I wasn't planning on breaking any doors down and fighting a raccoon," He retorts "How did it even get inside?"

"Pfft, I wouldn't know man," You shake your head, making forceful eye contact.

"You let it in?"

"Kenny did."

"Mother fucker," he mutters. "That asshole."

"It's really not that big of a deal," You cross your arms and lean back in the chair, quick to defend Kenny even though you weren't thrilled about a wild animal set loose in the school you would pretend to be for his sake.

Kyle turns to face, jaw clenching tightly and you already regret your words "It's not that big of a deal?"

"Yeah," You say, firmly "It's really not."

His voice steadies, the rise of anger ringing clear in his tone "Do you have any idea how many people could be hurt because of this?"

"It's fucking funny, Kyle," You exasperate, standing up from the chair and taking a stride toward him.

"How is this funny?"

"It's a raccoon that terrorizes a school, how is that not funny?"

"What if it had rabies?"

"Kyle, that's life. Sometimes a raccoon is gonna break into a school and attack teenagers," You try to sound nonchalant but there's agitation clinging to your words "Life ain't all cookies and cream, lil fella."

"Do not ever call me lil fella."

"Sorry, lil fella," You shrug.

"Don't act like you weren't shaking in fear two minutes ago."

"I was and two minutes later it's hilarious, I would be laughing my ass off right now if you weren't about to punch a wall."

"I'm not going to punch a wall," Kyle sneered.

"Are you gonna make a TikTok about it then?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," He uttered looking away from you.

"Acting like you've never done stupid shit before," You spit, moving closer until you're inches away from him. You felt that familiar surge of anger catching fire in your lungs, one that was sure to never be smothered "Pulling the fire alarm, punching Stan, taping porno magazines on Mr. Garrison's car-

"Those were ages ago," He cuts you off "At least some of us actually grew up."

"It's a fucking raccoon!" You throw your hands up in the air "And you're seventeen, you should think this is funny because it is and one day you're going to be an old wrinkly boney fuck with rotten testicles and wish that you revelled in this a little more."

"You aren't listening," His voice raises. Every few moments, he runs a hand through his hair in a quick, jerky motion, adding to the sense of barely contained rage.

He was right, you weren't listening. Kyle was hastily spitting out words while you just stared at him like his words were muffled to your ears. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, muscles tensed with barely contained frustration. His brows are furrowed deeply, casting a shadow over his narrowed eyes that stay trained on your face. His jaw is clenched so tightly that a muscle twitches in his cheek, and his lips are pressed into a thin, hard line.

The sleeves of his hoodie are rolled up and you can see the veins and the muscles flexing. His face was almost flushed red with rage, for the first time you had noticed the light dusting of freckles spread over his nose. You remembered him having them as a kid, they came around in the summer when he would spend hours in the sports court and chasing his friends through the woods. His face was spotted like a fawn, though they dwindled with age they always got dark after he bathed in sunlight.

"What?" He snaps, breaking your immersion "Are you going to say something?"

"Your freckles are coming in."

"What?" His eyebrows draw together even further. "What are you-

He is cut off by a sudden, sound of a heavy thump and metal hitting the linoleum and clattering in its place. You turn towards the sound and see that the vent covering has fallen off and something dark scuttles across the ground, catching only glimpses of it between rows and rows of desks. "Holy shit, it found me!" Without warning, the raccoon crashes against a desk with a ferocious growl, causing you to scream. Acting purely on instinct, you leap towards Kyle, wrapping your arms around him in a desperate bid for safety. His eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, his anger is replaced by shock as he catches you. "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck."

"What are you doing?" he exclaims, but his voice is less harsh than before, more surprised than angry though the irritation still hangs in his tone.

"I don't want to look at it," You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face into Kyle's collarbone. "This is gonna be really funny in a week but I'm actually really fucking scared right now."

Kyle has one protective arm over your midriff as he leans forward the slightest to look at the raccoon that stands between the pair of you and the door. The raccoon hisses and bares its teeth at you, slobber foaming around its mouth "It has rabies," He says, backing away "It actually has rabies."

"Fuck!" You shout, breaking away from Kyle and trying to scramble onto a desk, so panicked your legs keep slipping until Kyle lifts you by your waist until your feet are flat on the surface and hops on a desk himself. "What the fuck do we do?"

The raccoon circled around the door, staggering like it had just drunk a forty. You fumbled for your phone in your pocket, looking up what to do when you encounter an animal with rabies. "What are you doing?"

"Okay, um, Reddit says to shoot it dead, bag it, and burn it," you look over at Kyle.

"Do you have a gun in your pocket?" He says with an antsy sarcasm.

"No."

"Well, that's super helpful, thank you," His face flat and voice mocking.

"Not the time to be an asshole," As the raccoon snarls and regains its footing, you fumble for your phone, your hands shaking. "I'm calling the police," you tell Kyle, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and adrenaline.

Kyle nods, his eyes never leaving the raccoon. "Fucking hurry."

With trembling fingers, you dial 911, praying for a quick response. The raccoon begins to inch closer, its eyes locked onto you. "911, what's your emergency?" comes the operator's voice.

"We're trapped in a classroom with a rabid raccoon at Park County High," you say, your voice cracking. "It's really fucking gross looking like it's covered in mud and it had matted fur and shit." You shudder as it nears you "And it's pretty fucking fat, it jiggles when it walks."

"Okay, ma'am, I need you to stay calm," the operator replies, her voice steady and professional. "Can you confirm your location one more time?"

"Park County High, room 112," You wrinkle your nose as it begins to sniff up the desk you standing on "Its hands are dirty as shit, probably from being greedy and eating too much."

The operator starts to ask for details, but the raccoon lunges forward, coming dangerously close. Panic surges through you. Without thinking, you scream and hurl your phone at the animal. The device smacks the raccoon on the head, causing it to stumble and momentarily back off. Upon impact, your phone shatter, the screen glitching with colour before going black completely.

The raccoon stumbles for a second before hissing and lunging at your ankles again. You retract your feet, trying not to tip onto the ground. You can tell the raccoon is charging up to attempt another jump onto the desk, you leap down in a moment of panic and kick the desk into it. The desk drops to its side and squashes the raccoon which lets out a yelp before squirming it's way out.

You ran to the front of the class grabbing any stray books off of desks and chucking them at the raccoon. Snatching the metre stick from the spot where it rested against the whiteboard, you begin to swat at the raccoon "I actually will not survive if I get rabies," Your voice shakes with every word.

"Yeah, no shit!" Kyle retorts, his hands flying arounf frantically and his mind paniced to do something.

The metre stick only seems to make the raccoon more angry "This feels like animal abuse!"

"It is!"

"Should I stop?"

"Do you want rabies?"

"No."

"Then no!" Kyle climbs down from his desk and frantically looks around for something to throw at the raccoon, he grabs a thick textbook from the teacher's desk and throws it down at the rabid creature. It squeaks, staggers, and snaps its jaws, ignoring Kyle and staying focused on you.

"Kyle, open the door!" You shout, prodding at the raccoon in a feeble attempt to keep it away from your flesh.

He jiggles the handle to no avail, it doesn't budge. There's nothing but a familiar snigger on the only side of the door. "Cartman, open the door!"

"If you pay me twenty bucks right now." His irritating voice answers.

"What? I don't have money on me." He lifted the little shade that covered the glass panel on the door and of course, there was the back of Cartman's head.

"You're Jewish, that's impossible."

"I'll fucking Paypal you the money just open the door," Kyle's voice rises with every word.

"Jewrat, I know you have your little gold pouch on you."

"Did you put the fucking raccoon in the vent?"

"That depends," His voice is as smug as ever.

"I'm gonna kick your teeth in!" He slams his body against the door but Cartman is without question the heavier one leaning on the other side. "Open the door!"

"Is it ethical to kill it?" You crawl on top of the teacher's desk, kicking random items down every time the raccoon attempts to jump. It hits the creature's head with a little thud though it's only stunned for a moment before it goes back to attacking like it shot up some kind of drug.

“That doesn’t really matter,” Kyle does a run against the door, it looks like it's going to cave inward.

You had run out of supplies to knock on the raccoon's head, it grabbed hold of your shoe, getting more agitated with every attempt to shake it off. "Fuck, fuck, shitballs, fucking cunt licker!"

In mere seconds Kyle grabs a chair by its legs and bashes down onto the raccoon which claws into your shoes in an attempt to stay on you but the force of the chair brought it barrelling to the ground. It twitches under the chair, ragged breathes and squeals. "Did it bite you?"

You shake your head, a hand slapped over your mouth as you look down at the animal writing below. "Where the fuck are the police?" You scream. Kyle helps you down from the desk and you immediately spring towards the door, banging on it with all of your force "Eric, open the door or I'm gonna throw rocks through your window, you dumb whore!"

"Tell the jew to slide a bill under the floor," He says nonchalantly. Through the glass panel on the door, you can hardly see the rest of the hallway past Cartman's head which appears to be vacant. You turn back to Kyle who throws his hands up in exasperation then look to where the raccoon begins to stir on the floor and find its footing.

"I'm going to ask one more time, open the fucking door," You try to keep your voice as still as possible despite shaking with rage and biting the inside of your mouth so hard that blood mixes with your saliva.

"I'm going to ask one more time, tell Kyle to-

You ball your hand into a fist and rear your elbow out, connecting your knuckles to the glass panel that was once separating the two of you from Cartman. It shatters on impact, sending a spiderweb of cracks radiating outwards. The sound of breaking glass fills the room, echoing off the walls. You reach your other arm through broken glass and wrap your hands around Cartman's pudgy neck.

The panic is evident, his hand moving quickly to try and pry your hands away from him. You refuse to let go, holding him against the door despite his choking sputters and the urgent tapping over your hands.

"Open the fucking door!" You shout again, wringing Cartman's neck like a soaked towel, ignoring the little shards of glass stuck in your hands and the jagged edges of the frame cutting up your forearm. You were a lot less scared of Cartman than you were of the raccoon carrying a deadly illness.

He coughs, each breath becoming shallower and more desperate than the last. His hand fumbles for the door handle and the second you see the light from the hallway spill through a crack, you let go of Cartman and slam your body on the door which finally lets out.

You stumble through the door and into the hallway, watching your shaking hand engrained with little shards of class. Cartman's breathing heavily against a wall, his face the brightest shade of red you had ever seen on a human.

Kyle walks through, eyes wide and brows furrowed at the sight before him. He looks at you, shutting the door behind him "Is it funny now?"

"Kinda actually, yeah."

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