#I am willing to be swayed if someone has a better idea

[yesterdayiwrote]

After reading @vro0m's post suggesting Grill the Grid should take on a Taskmaster format, please have my ‘not entirely definitive’ list of Which Taskmaster contestant the 2023 F1 grid would most be like...

Max Verstappen : Kerry Godliman - Wants to win. Doesn’t want you to know how much they want to win. Until you tell them he’s done it wrong and then he argues the rules with you incessantly. Probably loves a laminator. Bosh, done.

Sergio Perez : Paul Sinha - Should be really good at this. Is getting a bit old though and inexplicably fucking the whole thing up. Is really trying but just permanently perplexed about how this isn’t going better for them.

Charles Leclerc : Judi Love - Is trying really hard, still not quite understanding what they’re being asked to do but not wanting anyone to realise how confused they are. Most likely to ask ‘Is there a duck on my face?’

Carlos Sainz : Joe Thomas - Is also very confused, but slightly less chaotic with it, not exactly hiding how confused they are, just openly having a breakdown while their brain stops working. Liable to suddenly argue back about how unfair it is and how hard they’re trying.

Lewis Hamilton : Liza Tarbuck - Knows what they’re doing, minimal fuss, just gets on with it and ends up winning everything. Is starting to get mildly irritated you’re asking them to do it still, decreases effort throughout proceedings, yet still somehow manages to do really well

George Russell: Mel Giedroyc - George is Mel. Rushes into every task with enthusiasm. Highly competitive. Tackles every task with a cacophony of Britishisms spilling from his mouth in place of swear words to hide his frustrations, whilst simultaneously congratulating the crew on what great tasks they’ve come up with. (There is also a really strong argument for Ivo Graham here. Bringing big Eton energy but slightly more angsty about his failures)

Lando Norris : Nish Kumar - Is trying really, really hard. Is also failing really, really hard by failing to notice generally what’s going on around him.

Oscar Piastri : Richard Osman - Just getting the tasks done in a calm, sensible manner. No bells and whistles, just taking it all in his stride.

Esteban Ocon : Jessica Knappett - Goes rushing in to everything with enthusiasm and positive energy and falls face first into failure. Tall and lanky and just very happy to be here.

Pierre Gasly : Iain Stirling - Tries really hard, really wants to win, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’re watching a Love Island episode whenever you watch him attempt anything (just for wildly different reasons).

Fernando Alonso : Rhod Gilbert - Quietly confident of their own abilities. A bit of a lone wolf and hates team tasks because he just wants to win for himself. Has an uncanny knack of finding a loophole and winning tasks thanks to some dirt he has on the taskmaster from many years ago.

Lance Stroll : Paul Chowdhry - He’s not entirely sure how he’s ended up here, or what he’s supposed to do, but he’s giving it a go anyway. Appears unenthusiastic about everything but actually wants to win, just with the least possible effort he can muster.

Valtteri Bottas : Hugh Dennis - Very calm about everything, even his own failures. Actually not that worried about where he comes, just happy to be taking part. (Valtteri would actually be Fred the Swede but he’s not a contestant so he can’t be)

Zhou Guanyu : Charlotte Ritchie - Appears like they have it all together. Calm and softly spoken, yet strangely chaotic when given a task. Seems really eager to please but kind of low key stressed and anxious. (A certain element of Sophie Duker or Mawaan Rizwan entirely for the great fits though)

Yuki Tsunoda : Fern Brady - Is very stressed about everything and would very much like to go home for a big sleep because being competitive is exhausting

Daniel Ricciardo : Joe Wilkinson - Chaos. Full stop.

Nico Hulkenberg : Lee Mack - This is one of the harder ones because he could be any of the ‘uncontroversial older guy’ contestants. Went for Lee because he’d probably keep dropping dad jokes in there but not a total chaos demon. Just does…fine?

Kevin Magnussen : Ardal O’Hanlon - Similar to what I wrote for Nico but with a bit more chaos and confusion thrown in, but just politely smiling his way through it. (See also Alan Davies)

Alex Albon : James Acaster - Has a severe dislike for whoever organised this, would quite like it to be over. Would also like to win. Doesn’t want to look desperate with it but is actually trying very hard. Is very angry that he’s not winning and ends up ranting about how unfair it is to hide his disappointment.

Logan Sargeant : Desiree Burch - American. (Look, I ran out of ideas for Logan I will admit)

[angstywaifu]

hey sweetie...love ur content btw.....how do you think the fourthwing boys will be after a very bad argument

Oh I like this one, and I have some very solid ideas on how they’d all react. So lets dive in! I am going to do this in the context that you’re in a relationship with them. A/N: If you guys want any more like this, please send them in. I absolutely love doing these.

Bodhi.

I feel like Bodhi would feel bad as soon as you’re not there. He’d start replaying the argument in his head, freaking out he’s probably messed it all up and that you’ll leave him. Pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath as he pulls at his curly hair. I can imagine him finding someone to talk to about what happened to try get some ideas on what he can do to make it better Anyone he asks saying to just go and talk to you, but he’s adamant it won’t be enough because he thinks he’s really fucked up. I see him trying to find a gift to give you as a sign of how bad he feels and to try make it up to you.

Liam.

Sweet Liam. He would be in the same boat as Bodhi where he would feel extremely bad after it and instantly regret how it went. I feel like he would be a bit more calmer than Bodhi about it, being able to formulate a plan on his own on how to show how sorry he was. I can see him making you a little figure or something out of wood as a peace offering. He’d either leave it at your door with a note saying how sorry he was, or he’d hand deliver it depending how confident he was you wouldn’t rip his head off.

Garrick.

As much as I love this man and he will always take top spot out of all the boys for me, we all know he’s going to be moody about it for a while. Especially with a very bad argument. He probably went too far and said something he didn’t entirely mean in the heat of the moment. He’d be in a mood for a while after. Spending heaps of time in the gym or training to try let off some steam. I can see Xaden or Bodhi telling him to pull his head in and fix it. Once this happens and he’s probably thought about it all, he would feel extremely bad. He’d come up to you, tail between his legs like a scolded puppy asking for your forgiveness and he went too far. Man would have some serious grovelling to do after this.

Dain.

Dain for me really depends on the context of the argument. If he think’s he’s in the right you know he isn’t going to feel bad about it. He will stick by his point till his dying breath unless you can give him extremely solid proof he was wrong and can sway him. And even then you’re going to need to constantly prove that to him till he’s fully on your side. He is going to be very stubborn in the aftermath of a bad argument.

Xaden.

I feel like we get a decent view on what he would be like. I think just like Garrick he would probably need some time to cool off after, but not as much time. He’d probably need someone to knock a little sense into him, but I think he would most likely come around on his own once he’s cooled off. I can see him sparing with Liam or Garrick to get his anger out or going off on a supply run to do so. I can also see him being stubborn like Dain depending on the context of the fight. But unlike Dain I could see him being a bit more lenient on his opinion and wanting to work with you on it. But yet again, this would also depend on the context of the fight.

Brennan.

I feel like I’ve lumped all the boys who are a little bit stubborn down the bottom together. Brennan is very caring, and would no doubt feel bad for any fight he has with you. But yet again, depending on the context he’s very likely not going to budge on his opinion. I do think after some time to cool off he would be willing to talk through your side of the argument even if he wasn’t going to change his stance. He’d want to understand where you are coming from to see if there is anything he can do to help make it better for you. He would also do something to make it up to you if he wasn’t going change his stance, attempt to make you dinner or plan something for the two of you.

I’m not as confident on Sawyer and Ridoc, but I’m going to give these a crack and hope you guys like this.

Sawyer.

As stated above, I’m not as confident on his character. I really need to do a reread to get a better grasp on him. But we do see how caring he can be. I mean the man went all out on trying to learn sign language to talk to Jessinia (even if he stupidly went to Ridoc for help on this). So I feel like we’re going to get a very similar outcome to Bodhi and Liam where he will feel bad about it and will 100% do something to make it up to you. This man seems like he’s all about putting in the effort for someone he’s with.

Ridoc.

I won’t deny this is the one I’m the least sure on. I think we could put him in the feels bad about it basket. He’d also probably be completely oblivious and say you were over reacting, leading to Rhi smacking him across the head while she tells him he’s an idiot. I can see him going all out on some dramatic plan to apologise to you and it probably falling apart completely and being a complete and utter mess.

[hazel2468]

Can I just say that like.

Yes, obviously (or not obviously, based on some of y'alls behavior), the idea that "Women dating men is TORTURE for the woman we should pity women who date men!" is like. Radfem juice to the extreme and yet somehow the most basic level of radfem bullshit and it's stupid and just CRUEL to men.

But speaking as someone who spent most of my life as a cis woman (about 25 years solidly there and two years wondering) and who is sometimes still woman-ish in my gender and someone who is constantly read as being a woman by the world...

It's also REALLY fucking irritating that these radfem fucks come along like "Oh, you poor sad woman FORCED to date these men, FORCED by the patriarchy to be attracted to men, if only you could be FREE to be the lesbian we know you are!" and like...

Fuck you. I love men. I love how men love. I think men are hot and sexy and cute and desirable as all fuck. I love men's bodies. I do not think that a male or masculine body is "disgusting" or "unclean" because it belongs to a man. No one is fucking holding me at gunpoint and forcing me to like men- I just fucking like men.

And it's the same way I feel about the whole "Oh, you poor woman FORCED to partake in kink!" argument like. NO! I fucking like kink! I am kinky! I WANT to be kinky! I want to have that kind of sex with people- including with men.

Radfem rhetoric rests on two things (well it rests on a lot of things but IMO these two things are like the MAIN pillars, or some of the main pillars). The MAIN main thing is the idea of the man, the masculine, as the inherent oppressor, the evil, the All Bad Things in the World Come from Men. But the other thing it leans on, ironically?

Is the idea that women cannot possibly know what they really want. That women who are attracted to men, women who are kinky, women who aren't women and who are actually men- do not actually know what they want. They have all been TRICKED, you see, these poor, vulnerable, impressionable, prey-like women, and the radfems are here to SAVE THEM from all these things that they THINK they want, but oh no, no The Devil I MEAN the Patriarchy has just convinced you that you want these things, you don't REALLY want any of that, you don't KNOW better!

Do I NEED to fucking explain how infantilizing and gross and downright fucking SEXIST it is. To insist that women do not know what they want and must be steered in the right direction? The idea that women need to be guided because we (because I am a woman sometimes, although whether radfems see me as a weak-willed, easily swayed uwu woman or a traitor rapist man depends on the day, it seems) cannot POSSIBLY know what we REALLY want...

Come on. I mean we know they're in bed with sexist Conservatives but do radfems REALLY need to go so hard on driving that point home?

[schwanemannsland]

Bill Collins and Self Curruption

I've had this personal theory ever since the ninth episode of Urbanspook released that, in short, Bill Collins was willing to enter this lifestyle with Mona at the beginning. Of course, this relationship (both as killer and as lovers) was incredibly one-sided at the end with Mona taking full control of Bill's every thought and action, but I have a hard time believing Bill was forced into this at the very start.

Bill Collins is by all means an American Joe-Schmoe; he has an honorable career in his local police force, he has a wife, he has children, he has that white picket fence type dream that every man strives for. Yet, despite all that, there comes a major catch: predictability. No matter how one obtains this nuclear family life it all runs upon the same script. No matter what he has to implement himself in events like anniversaries, holidays, family, vacations, school related events, that obligatory family drama, and don't get me started about the added stress of having to focus on paying taxes, the mortgage, what will and what won't insurance will cover, what trouble his kids caused, how much a new car repair will cost, and so forth and so forth. This American dream becomes a living nightmare once you have to juggle money and family relations that, at the end of the day, will amount to nothing and will never end with your deeds being thanked.

It's a monotonous life that I can't see a person like Bill Collins enjoying. At most, he would have forced himself into a delusion of enjoyment due to societal pressures and the need to abide by normalcy. This is all something he could never control so, to go completely against such routine, is the ultimate form of freedom. To live his life vicariously through his primal id with the removal of social and familial obligations isn't that insane of a concept for a middle aged man to commit. Yet, we are swayed to believe that he could never commit such actions. We, the audience, are fed this idea of "honor" and "respect" despite the lack of evidence outside of his job title as a police officer. 

This goes into my next point: he became a police officer for purely selfish reasons that had no relation to protecting the community he works for. I know, shocker; a bad police officer. I won't baby feed anybody on how corrupt the police system in America is, so I'll just focus more on the specifics of Bill Collins' career. Despite the gritty reality, we are told this idea of the police. We are told that an officer of the law can't be just anyone, but someone dedicated to the people. Someone who will put their life on the line to bring peace and justice when the citizens couldn't. We are told that this title is something only morally correct people can obtain. Bill very much goes against this ideology. I have a hard time believing that someone that easily became a bloodthirsty hedonist was a good cop to begin with. In fact, I am inclined to believe his desires for violence poked its head while on the line. 

Maybe Bill found himself jumping to physical restraint and assaulting suspects with weapons much quicker than his colleagues. Maybe he even jumps to the most drastic measure for small incidents like speeding or running a red light. Hell, maybe he seriously injured a convict for "justifiable reasons". Whatever it may be, violent tendencies don't pop out of nowhere for a person and a man that's in an environment that not only allows physically harming suspects, but encourages it isn't too far fetched. This could even go deeper if true with his actions being easily covered up by the department due to either image, his attitude and charisma, him being able to get his job done no matter what or a mix of all three. With such a small town, it would be a disaster if one or more officers were openly tried for misconduct and assault so it would be better to look the other way. We can't have the perception of the "good, morally correct cop" being questioned. 

The final point I want to cover is how convenient everything went in his favor once he and his family got affected by Mona. Think about it: he is spared from being killed, has had major pieces of evidence that pointed towards him being involved was destroyed (his car being abandoned in the ocean) or cleaned away (there was no mention of fingerprints or further murders besides hi infant once his house was investigated), and how he of all people obtained the killer's self portrait right before his home invasion. It's hard to believe Mona spared him nor that she would easily overpower a man like him, even with a weapon on hand. I'm inclined to believe he jumped at the opportunity to execute his family with Mona perhaps due to a spur-of-the-moment decision or a premeditated one crafted beforehand. Either way, the actions following didn't seem to benefit Mona in the slightest. Why would she destroy and abandon Bill's car? She never seemed concerned about leaving her prints behind nor was it going to deter the police away from her scent due to its placement by the lighthouse. If anything, it hindered her since she had to go about abandoning a car without the plate being read nor noticed in such a small town. The only reason she would need to get rid of the vehicle is if she wanted to wash away and hide incriminating evidence against Bill. 

We can further inspect this theory by looking at Mona's first painting of Bill. The painting is incredibly interesting in how it depicts a supposed victim due it being one of the most simplistic portraits so far (even "Scream Maggy Scream" had deep violets and hints of pink) with it being only black and white with the face itself being a cartoonishly bland one with two small eyes and a tiny smile on an elongated face. It doesn't show him being tortured nor in any sort of distress. It doesn't even have a puny title alluding to his demise with it just being dubbed "Bill Collins" (of course there is no sign of her giving it an official name so even assuming its named after Bill would be a stretch). With a quick glimpse it has a lot of striking resemblance to how Mona appears: pale skin, very smooth features, sunken in eyes, and a very simple yet off putting representation of human emotions. The only major difference is that he's popularly shown smiling, before and after Mona's involvement. It's safe to assume Mona is trying to reveal how similar she sees Bill and herself, from either actions, personality, or a mix of both. 

Now, the series isn't finished so Mona's reasoning for attacking the Collins family can easily go against everything I said. Maybe it all was just a coincidence and Bill really was that sweet hearted Joe-Schmoe. Maybe the painting towards him was made just to poke fun at how he looks and nothing more. Only time will tell. But, all and all, I believe Bill had a much bigger involvement than we are led to believe and is no better than Mona when it comes to that lust for sadistic torture. 

[slash-me-please]

HIHIHI I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM AND I SAW THAT YOUR WILLING TO WRITE FOR AMANDA YOUNG BUT IF YOU DONT FEEL LIKE IT THATS COMPLETELY OKAY ALSO!!

Can you do jealous Amanda x Fem reader? Somewhere around reader and Amanda having a complicated relationship and reader is an apprentice. Another apprentice flirts around with reader and Amanda doesn’t like it at all :$ Also some NSFW but if your not in the mood for it you don’t have to add it!

I hope you have an amazing day 😋😊

I love writing for Amanda!!!! I'm so happy to be getting more fem requests because I am a gay mf. Anyways on with the story.

-In the event that Michael Marks survived, he has became an apprentice. Michael Marks. Yknow, the key in the eyeball guy. So, let's begin.

A Deeper Understanding

Warnings: Literally nobody getting along, Jealous!Amanda, Cursing, Threatening, Fingering, Domish!Amanda, Getting Caught

John Kramer had collected quite the assortment of a team. He hoped at least one of you would continue his legacy perfectly. He'd make sure before he died that he'd live on through the lot of you. You were all currently at the workshop, bullshitting about random tests and other people you were interested in "helping". There was about four of you there, Dr. Gordon couldn't make it, like usual. Michael Marks had been your second choice, Gordon has always been your first.

His eyes traveled down your body, a look that made you feel a certain type of way, not a good way. He was your partner though, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. "I'm glad everyone is here," John smiled a thin smile, Jill stood across from him, eyes trained on his every move. You knew that it'd been hard on her since his diagnosis. "I need your help with the scalping seat, I'm not sure it'll get done on time." He took a pause, "I've had some other things to tend to, my apologies."

He hadn't been looking at you, you weren't the mechanic of the group. John looked to you for ideas for traps. You had a knack at creating a symbolic test, one which would change the looks of the masses. Michael stepped forwards, eyes lingering on you for too long for someone who had just needed to build a trap. "I used to work as a car technician before Homeward Bound," He said, bending down and looking through the gears. "Unless Hoffman can do better." Hoffman wasn't much for Michael, he stayed silent.

"Nobody wants you to touch anything, you hardly beat your test. I don't know why John even wants you here because you're obviously not even serious about him." Amanda stood from her spot near John, she walked forwards and towered over Michael- only for Michael to size her up. "What are you even talking about?" He barked, his chest puffing. "Amanda calm down, we need to finish this trap. Brenda's test is what matters." John corrected her, his composure was always impenetrable. "No John! Have you seen this guy? He's been eye-fucking Y/N since we got here!"

Amanda's fists clenched as she yelled back at John. She seemed ready to blow a fuse, and you were thankful for it. "As far as I am concerned, He has not said anything to Y/N that has made her uncomfortable." "But-" "No, we'll deal with him later, we have to focus on the contraption now, we'll deal with him later. I need you to act level-headed if you're going to carry out my legacy." Amanda huffed, speeding past the group and into the hallway. "Amanda!" You yelled after her, jumping down from the table and following after her.

You found yourself in a grimy hallway, off to the side was an opening to what you presumed was where Amanda had went off to. You stepped forward, watching as the curtains to the archway swayed back and forth. "Amanda?" You called, and she opened the swaying curtains as you stood in front of them. "Finally got enough of Mr. Fuck-me eyes?" You shook your head. "We're not... doing anything." She nodded, stepping away to move back to a decaying workstation. You saw she had her reverse bear trap on the table, she seemed to be fixing something wrong with it.

"What are you doing to it?" You wondered, she glanced over at you for a moment. "John gave it to me to fix, fucking Hoffman took it somewhere and it broke." She gulped. "I hate this thing, but I'm about finished." Amanda was grumbling as she fixed her trap, she seemed elsewhere and you could tell that this was a coping mechanism for her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, and with a sigh she sneered. "I just don't understand why Michael is even here, he hardly completed his test and he's an asshole y'know?" Her voice elevated, and she turned towards you. "He's awful and I just don't understand why he can't leave you alone!" Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening as she stared right at you. "Uh-" But you cut her off, hands coming up to hold her face. It happened to turn out that she would be the one to press forward and kiss you. She only let it escalate from there when her hand moved to reach under your shirt and pull you flush against her chest.

Her nails dug into the plush of your stomach skin when she picked you up and placed you on the workbench, shoving the bear trap off to the side. Amanda placed kisses on your collarbone as you worked to pull your shirt off, and in the heat of the moment she found herself dizzy with lust. She had been dreaming about this moment since you joined the group, and she thought she might've entered her dreamworld when you finally got your shirt off. "You're fucking perfect," She mumbled, the androgynous tang of her voice flowed through your core and straight between your legs. You opened them right up.

Amanda leaned forward, tongue landing flat on your nipple and sucking at it until it pressed hard against the pad of her tongue. With her left hand, she groped you passionately, and she praised how you fit in her hand perfectly. You had leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the top of her head as she pushed your skirt up and over your ass, eager to get where she had wanted to touch most. You blessed her with it, gripping the edge of rotten wood when she hooked her long fingers inside your heat. "Shit..." She mumbled, her left hand dropping your tit to push you back by the stomach. You stumbled back against the wood with a whine, biting onto your left hand as the other gripped her wrist.

Amanda watched with an intense gaze as you moaned into your hand, she was more than interested, her left hand moving to rub circles on your clit as she fingered you. Your hips pushed against her fingers, desperate to feel more of her as she pleasured you- you knew her thoughts of Michael Marks were gone by now, her gaze enraptured by the way your cunt sucked her in. She felt herself becoming devoted as she listened to the gasps and whimpers you released of her name- you felt the same.

She began to kiss your hips as your legs shook around her fingers and your whines became more noticeable. Amanda gathered she had to be doing something right, her ego inflating as you rode her hand. "You're doing so well Y/N," She whispered, the fingers on your clit speeding up. You cried out, "I'm so close..." yelping when she pushed her fingers deeper and shushed you. You felt your insides clench and twitch, legs spreading wider as you held her wrist against your sex- whining out a flurry of "Thank yous," While you finished on her hand.

Finally, you leaned back down, huffing against your hand. You reached out to maybe grab her, and she reached to pull her shirt off. Unluckily, she didn't make it far when you heard Michael open the curtains, halfway through his sentence. "I'm sorry Amanda, I didn't- oh!" His eyes landed on you, and you yelped, flailing to cover your body as he stared.

Amanda's lip twitched in annoyance, pulling your skirt down with a little bit of attitude. You knew it wasn't directed at you though. "If you do not get the fuck out of my office, I will literally blow your brains out Michael."

And he turned around, scurrying down the hallway. Amanda turned back to you, giving you a happy kiss on the lips. "Maybe we can arrange a date this week?"

[midnight-black2]

ok so i have an idea. (this is before jann got into gt academy)

jann has had a crush on us for a very long time. coby invites jann to a party saying we’ll be there (so ofc he comes) and they play spin the bottle/7 mins in heaven

𝟕 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing : jann mardenborough x reader, prompt #8

synopsis : it's exactly what the req says lol

disclaimers : sub!jann, dom!reader, teasing, kissing, etc, this is rather mild tbh

note : yayy first req for my eventtt.

jann was definitely not the type to attend parties, but for you? he'd do it, no questions asked. so when his brother practically begged jann to drive him to said party, jann couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you, which is how he found himself in that rare situation; standing awkwardly by your side as all the others drunkenly shouted and laughed.

now, you'd be lying if you said you didn't find jann absolutely adorable, but you weren't quite sure if he was equally as interested in you. you never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable, and for this reason, your relationship never went past a small hug or longing gazes.

you were tipsy, not drunk, but you were confident, and all nerves had washed away with the first drink. you swayed, your pinky finger grazing his, which caused him to noticeably tense up just a bit. his cheeks were dusted with a light shade of pink. you wished you could say you hadn't done it on purpose, but you wanted to see a reaction out of him. it was amusing to you, to say the least.

"you know what we should do?" coby asks, in a loud voice. he had definitely had one too many to drink. he stumbled around, making his way across the room haphazardly, before resting his hand on janns shoulder. "we should totally play seven minutes in heaven!" you chuckled.

"what are we, sixth graders ?" you laughed, teasingly. you weren't entirely against the idea. however, you also weren't entirely for the idea of being stuffed in a closet with anyone else but jann. you also didn't seem to like the idea of jann being stuffed in a closet with anyone but you.

"oh cmon, it'll be fun," audrey replied, and coby nodded eagerly. everyone else seemed willing to play, and even jann wasn't necessarily protesting.

"i mean sure, im surely not stopping you," you said, as you sat down, joining the circle that the other people had already started to form. coby ushered jann to the opposite side of the circle, likely to raise the chances of your spin landing on him. you weren't sure of that at the time, though. looking back, you should've known why he did that, but the alcohol clouded your better judgement.

coby placed an empty glass bottle in the middle of the circle with a cunning grin. he sat back down next to jann, before asking the question, "who's spinning first?" audrey volunteered, willingly so. it landed on someone neither you nor jann knew; one of coby's friends, presumably. the two entered the small closet at the back of the room, before coby started the seven minute timer.

not much could be heard, which was climactic. everyone was chit-chatting. some were talking about who they hoped the bottle landed on, others were talking about what they thought audrey and the guy were actually doing. then, the timer rang startlingly. coby walked by the closet door and knocked.

"hey lovers, your times up!" he shouted, laughing. a few moments after, audrey slowly opened the door, hair tousled around a bit. her lipstick was slightly smeared, and she wore a giddy smile. context clues were enough for everyone to start teasing the two as they entered the main room. audrey sat back down next to you, and you smirked suggestively.

"well then, looks like you had fun," you said, frivolously. audrey scoffed and elbowed you in a playful manner, but she couldn't fight the growing smile on her face.

"maybe..." she answered, with an eye roll.

"well, i think we all know what happened there," coby began. "so...who's next?" for a minute, nobody volunteered.

"i guess i am," you said, with a slight shrug. jann's head perked up, his eyes meeting yours. neither of you dared to look away, so you shot him a soft smile. he returned the gesture, a bit of color returning to his cheeks before he got kicked out of his trance by coby, who was wiggling his brows up and down obnoxiously.

you placed your hand on the bottle, before giving it a forceful spin. the moments of waiting were pure agony, as you kept your eyes on the bottle which was spinning around tauntingly. it started to slow, and finally came to a halt. your eyes trailed up to who it landed on, and sure enough, it was jann. his eyes widened, as he blinked a few times. he wasn't sure whether or not he was seeing things.

coby and the rest of the group started hyping jann up, and even audrey threw you a quick thumbs up with an eye brow raise. so, you stood, feet planted on the ground. jann followed suit, before you both walked into the closet. you clicked on the light bulb, and he shut the door behind him.

"your seven minutes starts now!" coby announced. suddenly, the closet felt so stuffy with the air that reeked of awkwardness. you made yourself comfortable, trying to find some words to say to him. in reality, this game could be quite unpleasant if you didn't want to do anything with the other person.

"i-uh, sorry...i've never played this before and..." he stammered, swallowing nervously.

"you've never played seven minutes in heaven before?" you asked, smiling softly.

"yeah uh-no. no i haven't," he replied, before laughing softly and looking down at his hands.

"it's alright, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to," you said, placing a hand on his knee, trying to make him feel more comfortable. he looked at your hand, then up to you. was this a dream? was he dreaming? if so, he'd rather die than wake up. "or...we could have some fun."

"what do you mean?" he asked, interest piqued. you tittered, and tapped your index finger against his leg.

"i think you know, jann," you replied, smiling. "just tell me what you want." he thought about it for a moment, as he collected his composure. there were many things he wanted. he wanted for you to touch him more, get impossibly closer to him--even kiss him...hell, he wanted a billion dollars. and he was good under pressure, he didn't let it crack him completely just yet.

"i want..." he had to force the words out, feeling as though it were almost embarrassing to seem so desperate. "i want you to...kiss...me." he sounded sure of it, but nervous as well. you hummed softly in approval. you had to applaud him, you didn't think he'd ever say it. but now that he did, you swiftly climbed over his lap, straddling him, wasting no time. you steadied yourself by placing one hand at his shoulder and one at his hip.

"is this okay?" you asked, wanting to check with him before you took things any further. he nodded eagerly, and you laughed. you cupped his cheeks, before leaning in, admiring him. his face became a crimson, as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips. you finally closed the gap, and captured him in a kiss. he sighed into it, melting into you.

your touch, the way you handled him with care was all too much for him. his head was reeling, and all you had done was kiss him. when you pulled away, he smiled gingerly.

"you're a good kisser," he said, with a small laugh, as his gaze averted.

"likewise." his grin widened. you leaned back in, as did he. you kissed him once again, but with a sort of fervor this time around. jann felt cloudy, like it was heaven. he'd finally understood the name of the game. when you pulled away for the second time, he had to resist the urge to pout. his mood was quickly lifted once again, though, when you started trailing soft kisses down his jaw and to his neck.

"let me know if you want me to stop," you mumbled against his soft skin. he nodded, but he had no intentions of doing so. you continued, starting to bite softly, only to test the waters. his breath stuttered, and his left hand found its way to your hip, as a way to ground himself. you left light pink hickeys down his neck. something he would possibly be forced to talk about with his parents, but he couldn't care less in that moment.

after you felt satisfied, you went back up for another kiss on the lips. he met you halfway, and he hummed into it, feeling a wave of bliss wash over him. he would have to thank his brother when they got home, because never in a million years would this had happened without him. and just when nothing could get in the way--something did, indeed, get in the way.

the timer beeped glaringly from outside the closet. jann groaned softly, unhappy to hear it. you chuckled, and lifted yourself off of him. you could hear coby striding towards the door, before knocking.

"times up, to your demise!" he said, with a shared laugh of everyone outside. you opened the door, with a small complacent smirk. jann stood behind you, and since he was so tall everyone had a clear view of what you had left on his neck.

who knew seven minutes in heaven could be such a fun game? maybe it was only fun because it was with jann, though.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[warrenwitches3]

Chapter one

The maiden fair and wise opened her eyes to be greeted by an old looking mirror, holding flame of green like wild trees.

Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor…

‘Huh, who’s speaking?’

My proud, beautiful flower of evil.

‘Is it..the mirror’

You are truly the fairest one of all.

‘Where am I, is this one of Barons tricks?’

O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat…

Reveal unto me the visage I seek…

‘It sounds like it’s casting a spell

You, whose image the dark mirror did beckon forth…

If you heart buds it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror.

A hand reached out from the reflective surface willing the swan to hold it dearly

‘I have a desire to hold this hand’ and hold it she did, the two hands male and female grasped each other in an embrace of strangeness and curiosity. The mirror flickered.

As flame refuses even the stars to ash.

It showed a fire, burning of destruction and comfort.

As ice seals away even time itself.

Ice that holds a memory of fear and desperation.

As great trees swallow even the sky.

Earth swaying with beauty.

Fear not the power of darkness.

The hand held her tighter and her skin seemed to ache.

Common now, show me your power.

‘I have none but this curse I’m afraid’ all her words became trapped in her mind as her voice would not bare to interrupt the stranger.

We only have a little bit of time left.

All started to fade.

At all costs, do not let go of that hand.

She gripped it tighter fearing for if she lets go she would fall into a place much worse then now.

The soft fabric of the cramped space gave the girl a small amount of comfort, the thing she was in was very small not giving her room to extend her arms nor twist her body.

‘Whats going on.. where am I?’ She tried to push forward on the enclosure that was trapping her but nothing moved, not even allowing a crack of light to enter her space.

“I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me...” a voice spoke from outside of her imprisonment, a squeaky voice.

“A, child..?” She let out a murmur her, voice coming of a bit starchy from not using it and squawking.

“Urgggh... This lid weighs a ton! Try this on for size! Mya-ha!” Suddenly hot steaming blue fire, one she’s only seen the dark sorcerer Baron use, had blown the lid of her confinement. She stumbled out with the flames only slowing their heat to touch her for a moment, leaving no traces it was ever there apart from the smoking lid.

“Fire!? Dark magic fire!” She panicked but all she saw was a weasel cat like creature.

“Now to grab the good- HEY! You ain’t supposed to be awake!” It yelled at her from its place on the ground. The thing had a grey coat of fur and white fluff in the middle with blue flames emitting from the ears, and a tail that looked like a pitchfork.

“The weasel talks..” she stated to no one but herself, her confusion, shock and a small amount of fear all mixing together to make an unnamed emotion settle in her.

‘Why am I shocked..? I turn into a swan when dawn makes her presence’

“How... How DARE YOU! I am no WEASEL! I'm Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire! Tch. Whatever. You...human! Just gimme your uniform, and be quick about it!”

‘And it wants to undress me as-well.. does this thing have no manners?!’

“If ya don’t your gonna regret it” he seemed to be ready to strike her down, even if she made no offensive moves towards him.

“You don’t even know if I have any under clothes on and you ask me to undress?!, how impolite” her tone held words used only to defend herself yet this animal went in for a strike of flames, and that’s when she realised that maybe being rude to another dark sorcerer while already being cursed isn’t a good idea so she ran.

Running hasn’t left her breathless in along time so she arrived to what appeared to be a library holding and ever continuing amount of books, like actually ever continuing, some books just kept coming through with no one there to restock them.

“More magic..” she felt dread in her. ‘What if I’m in a sorcerers lair? What if that animal back there was a henchman of Baron, what’s going on??’ The poor girl was left confused until said animal burst through the doors after her and her clothing.

“Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME?” the little beast had found her and cornered her inside the library. “Now, unless you wanna get burned to a crisp, take off that—“

Something suddenly wrapped itself around the cats neck halting it from further aggression.

“YEOW! That hurt! What gives!” It started strangling around in its capture wanting its previous sense of freedom.

“Consider it tough love.” A man with a crow like mask that covered half his face appeared reprimanding the beast.

‘Now he definitely seems like a dark sorcerer’ everything thing in past experiences was telling her to run but she couldn’t move, especially not when the man set his eyes on her.

“Ah, I've found you at last. Splendid. I trust you're one of this year's new students?” ‘New student..? I’m not a student, is this an academy?’

“My, were you ever eager to make your debut. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That is a clear violation of the school's rules.” He tugged at the rope that bound Grim the creature, who seemed aggravated by being called a familiar.

“Oh sir, he’s not mine I don’t-“

“As if I'd serve some lowly human! Now lemme go!” Grim struggled uselessly against his restraints once again not changing the fact that he was captured.

“Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?” The crow man did not seem to be very pleased when he turned to the girl with a tired look.

“Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you're the first with temerity enough to open their own gate and step out of it.Does the very notion of patience elude you?No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber.”

The girl was now experiencing only one emotion in the moment, confusion. “Gate..?”.

“You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not?” If he meant the floating coffins then she nodded.

“All of the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates. Although typically the students have restraint enough to wait until I open them before waking up.”

“So the floating coffins are the gateways..?”

“The design is intended to symbolize a parting with your former world, and a rebirth into a new one.”

‘Rebirth into a new life..is my curse really still untaxed then, it’s only night so I really can’t tell, but..’ how she hoped it was true.

“But now is not the time for such prattle. You've a student orientation to attend! Go on, now. Make haste.” He turned away from her to walk before she spoke again.

“First can you tell me where I am?” She knew it was risky asking a sorcerer such type of question but she would like to know.

“Hm? Have you not fully regained consciousness?The timespace teleportation must have addled your memories...” he trailed off “Well, these things happen, I suppose. I shall explain it to you while we walk. Truly, my graciousness is boundless”

‘He makes it sound like he’s the king of the world’ the maiden gave a subtle roll of her eyes and walked forward with the man.

“This is Night Raven College.” ‘College?’ “It is an institution for students the world over who demonstrate a rare aptitude for magic.” ‘So I was right this is something of great sorcery’

“It is the most prestigious academy of its sort in all of Twisted Wonderland. And I am Dire Crowley. Having been entrusted with its care by the chairman, I serve as headmage.”

“An academy of magic..?” Her face was drowned in confusion and she kept swimming down the river called fear.

“Only those who the Dark Mirror perceives as having a talent for magic are admitted to the college. Those who are selected are summoned to the campus through those "gates," which can appear anywhere. A black carriage bearing one such gate should have come to meet you.” Headmaster Crowley answered her.

“I do remember a phantom carriage with no rider and only horrific horses..” she still remembered the splash of water when she hit the ground, or the door opening with no one to greet her but a coffin.

“That black carriage serves to receive a student chosen by the Dark Mirror. It too bears a gate that connects to this campus. And as you know, sending a carriage to meet someone on a special day is a time-honored tradition.” Grim started to talk in a muffled sense although drowned out by his restraints.

“But I bare no magical talent headmaster Crowley-“ he seemed to not hear her and went in his way.

“Now then, let us attend you orientation” and off they all went, in a silence that left unattended questions in the air.

NOTE: yay! Finished chapter one so I hope it’s to people’s liking this is not like edited as I’m doing this all my self and I’m confident it makes sense. I’ve also decided with the help of someone that Malleus will be the final love interest as I does make more sense. I don’t really have an update plan as I sometimes lose motivation for things but I’ll try to attest have one chapter a week it’s not a promise though, I’m quite exited to write yuu in her swan form, I think I’m still gonna make her a student so imagine a swan showing up to a potions class trying to learn. I think it’ll be funny, also gonna have to get someone like silver to translate for her since he’s good at talking to animals, anyway I don’t wanna spoil much but have a nice day everyone!!

[neko-naruto]

Compact Confessional

Summary: Mysterion is holding something from the rest of the Freedom Pals. They should respect his privacy, they really should- but they only take it as a challenge.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, privacy breach, betrayal of trust, swearing, feral behavior (in Kite), the authors attempt at humor, heavy guilt, interrogation, it gets worse but then it gets better guys, I promise

Authors Note: hurgh K2, with the additional flavor of kitesterion because I went batshit over the AU to an insane degree. I have no clue when the Ao3 port is dropping. Sorry if some of the colored text, isnt colored. And fair warning, this badboy levels around 10K words, tumblr starts to lag around 7.5K for anyone curious. it is almost 3 AM (do artists ever stay up insanely late to finish big projects and get so sleepy they forget the hotkey for the eraser tool? I wouldn't know, but somewhere along the line I kept trying to write segue way with a Q because I was fucking disoriented) I need to go to sleep right the fuck now

Mysterion is keeping something from the Freedom Pals, he's keeping something from all of them. Maybe if he was willing to talk about it with someone everyone wouldn't find it so intriguing. Maybe then everyone wouldn't want to know what it is that's so fucking important that no one is allowed to know about it.

Super Craig tries to act like it's nothing super big, aware that if everybody paid no mind to it that it might come out faster. Tupperware followed suite with the idea, Wonder Tweek tagging in as well. Other members of their franchise were a lot less… subtle, about their interest in Mysterions secret, whatever it is. The Coon is practically begging him every single day to tell him what it is, Call Girl even joins in. Toolshed is pretty sure the both of them are just making things worse it they want Mysterion to come clean.

Human Kite is the only one that refuses to meddle at all, even Doctor Timothy has tried getting a peek in Mysterions mind. The alien is the only one that sits there and listens to him bitch about how annoying they are. The only one that pauses to look and listen and take in every visual and audible cue because that's what he's known to do since he first landed way back when. It tells him a lot about his teammates if nothing else.

Still.

Mysterion- no, Kenny McCormick is hiding something from his friends. And given the fact that it's barely coming out even when he's in a state of delirium or terribly wounded, it must be something big.

It's starting to piss off Kyle a little bit.

-/-/-/-

"Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit man," Kenny said as he pulled on his orange parka. He opted to leave his bleached cargo shorts and purple everything else in a pile on Kyles bedroom floor. It was easy to do that when the alien offered to wash them, "Chilling with Cartman all the time definitely does not do wonders for ones mental health."

Kyle gives a laugh, the kind that leaves teeth too sharp on full display. "Totally, I swear to fuck that asshole needs therapy," He stills his tail from wagging like he's a little kid, except, when he was a little kid he tied his tail up so it wouldn't be exposed in an all too human world. An extremely uncaring world for anything different then what they know as normalcy.

"He needs so much therapy," Kenny answered with, "See you tomorrow?"

"On our patrol, I'll make sure your suit is washed," Kyle said, throwing an arm to the side, an invitation for a hug. He wouldn't be sad if Kenny didn't take it, but he still can't help the way his heart skips several beats when he gets one. An anchoring tightness enveloping him, squeezing a comfortable amount on his rib cage that would hurt if he was human.

"Thanks Kyle," Kenny said quietly, head propped near Kyles shoulder but not quite tall enough to rest it on top. He pushes himself on his tippy toes to press the top of his head to the bottom of Kyles chin. He takes a dramatic step back and maybe Kyles tail is swaying a little bit with a silky soft comfort residing on his skin. He clasps his hands together, "Tomorrow."

"Yeah man, see you then," Kyle said, the instant he realized his tail was doing the thing he stilled it entirely. He felt a slight singe of cyan embarrassment. Stupid alien anatomy. Giving away how he feels.

Kenny pivots on his heel and gives a wave, "See ya man!" His steps are light and Kyle is watching with maybe a little bit too much intent.

He has zero legal rights to do so, but emotional and psychological rights? He has plenty. The first one being that he might've imprinted on Kenny the second his family landed on earth. He might've latched onto both Mysterion and Kenny like an orphan duckling in his childhood era of existing- so much so that he couldn't help the absolute giddiness when he learned they were the same. Maybe he got a little bit too attached to Kenny compared to everyone else in a human sense. But in an alien sense, in his instinctual sense, he was the perfect amount of attached considering how he thought of Kenny.

The second reason he stared was because Kenny had an undeniably amazing ass. That wasn't just personal opinion either, they held a vote after a particularly odd argument in the Freedom Pals lair. Kenny won by an absolute fucking landslide in the votes and voter fraud having taken place can't be confirmed or denied by anyone.

Except for Doctor Timothy of course.

And if there is a god, Kyle is praying everyday that the human one makes sure that Doctor Timothy doesn't look into the legitimacy of the votes.

Kyle barely drags himself back from his thoughts, he's been told he can get lost in them sometimes. His tail is wagging again, the multicolored diamond-like frills undulate a little bit. He swings the front door shut reluctantly when he can't see Kenny anymore. He tugs off his gloves and tosses them in a pile alongside his hat, letting the splotchy cyan coloration of his skin show. He makes his way up to his bedroom, but he finds his impossibly human little brother standing in his doorway.

"Ike, get out of the way," Kyle said sternly, giving a bit of a growl under his voice. His adoptive brother just quirks a brow in that annoying manner he learned from the humans.

Ike clears his throat, "No."

"Well why not?" Kyle questioned, growl snuffed and replaced with something louder and more resonant, it vibrated in his brothers flesh. It was something that Ike long since lost the ability to be intimidated by.

"When are you gonna stop inviting over your little posse of partners eh?" Ike asked, crossing one arm over the other. His tone was nothing but accusatory, Kyle saw through it.

"Are you jealous?" Came Kyles instant reaction.

"No," Ike responded with far too fast to be true.

"I'll play some video games with you on Thursday," Kyle offered.

Ike moved out of the way, "Enjoy wallowing in your disgusting room bud."

Kyle ignored him with nothing more than an eye roll, he made a point of slamming his door shut. He kicked aside a small heap of whatever, a mix of something or other he'd been intending to clean up. He gently picks up a small stack of comics Kenny had lent him and places them on his desk. Right beside the Mysterion charm. And the Mysterion action figure. And the other pieces of shitty Mysterion merchandise he had bought.

Okay, yeah, maybe he had a little bit too much Mysterion merchandise. He was just trying to put some extra cash into Kenny's pocket for when money is tight around the house. He just wanted to make sure his best friend was living a decent life, it wouldn't be enough to give him the life Kyle knew Kenny deserved, but it would help.

He takes hold of Kennys outfit and empties the contents of the pockets into a small bin. Loose change, granola bar wrappers, pocket knife, lock pick, the usual stuff he carried around for hero duties and then some. Kyle shakes the hood loose of any twigs or leaves and something large enough to clatter as it hits the metal netting of the bin falls out. His pointed ear gives a flick at the noise, he's dropping to the ground and pulling it out in a second.

He's completely enveloped in the mystery of what was hidden in Kennys hood because A: fucking genius hiding spot, and B: this could be what Kenny was hiding. It could be exactly what Kenny was trying so hard to keep under the radar, what he successfully kept hidden from everyone's prying eyes.

He came up with a tape, jet black, scratched plastic and a cracked see through window bit. There are silver markings across the black, seemingly unpredictable and laid out with either sharpie ink or a paint pen. The paper label is coffee stained and reads the date, recorded last month (why it's still on Kennys person is odd). The log number is left blank, presumably stated in the recording.

It was a jackpot and somewhere in the back of Kyles mind he knew he should ignore it. He knew this was shattering every rule in the book and that he'd be shattering his friendship with Kenny, Mysterion and Human Kite would probably stop being a dynamic duo at that.

But, he needed to know.

He absolutely fucking needed to know.

He wouldn't dare speak it too anyone ever, and he'd return it to the hood right afterwards. He wouldn't even tell Kenny that he listened to it, he'd just sleep at night knowing exactly what Kennys secret is. And that would be more than good enough for Kyle, he wouldn't need anything else.

He reaches blindly for his cassette player, the one he's held onto since he was young. One of his earliest earthly possessions, one he still cherished and used every day. He popped out the cassette already inside and gently placed the pilfered audio into it. He eagerly grabs his earbuds before pressing play.

Professor Chaos is pretty fucking sure doing this shit is helping out my mental state or whatever He doesn't know what he's dealing with He doesn't know that he's playing with fire trying to get me to spill my guts on his fancy therapy chair But, here I am, sitting on top of the police station fully decked out in my Mysterion persona just chatting it up with myself again

I already know exactly what the problem here is Chaos, the center of this massive shitfuck that even paid therapy couldn't fix!

I've probably said that a million times in every one of these stupid fucking recordings... shit I forgot to do that log date ha!

Ahem, log three, topic. Whatever comes out of my fucking mouth.

Kyle presses pause hesitantly.

Oh god.

This is an audio diary, just for spilling Kennys guts.

And he's listening to it.

He should stop. He really, truly, should.

But he doesn't.

Instead he presses play.

Where were we? Right, right, just saying whatever shit that comes to my mind . . . I'm pretty sure that Kyle thinks I can't see him stare at me whenever I fucking bend over or walk away I'm not complaining, I'm flattered really But jeez man just say it outright if you think I have a hot ass

The pause button is slammed this time.

Kyles face is burning up because Kenny knew apparently, he knew that Kyle stared at him at every chance he gets. He feels his stomach twist a bit because oh man, he got caught staring and Kenny didn't even mention. The usage of 'you' makes Kyle feel even more called out on the matter.

He could drop out now, maybe that's the secret, that Kenny knows he stares. He could sleep at night saying that's the thing he's keeping hidden.

I can't talk much if you put everything into consideration But still! Human Kite himself staring at my ass . . . That's fucking awesome if I'm being honest I would hope I'm being honest cause who else is gonna listen to the truth aside from this stupid tape

Like, I'm just doing whatever and I can feel it He is staring holes into me, somedays it's like he's hitting me with those fucking laser eyes! That'd be hilarious actually One second I'm loading a dishwasher and the next my ass is on fire because he couldn't help but stare The Coon would be laughing about that till he's dead

So would Toolshed

And Call Girl

And Mosquito

We'd all get a good laugh out of it

Except for Human Kite

I think he would die of embarrassment if he lit my ass on fire It'd be adorable Bright blue face, ears drooping the slightest bit, maybe his tail would do something I don't know He'd probably say sorry a lot All I know is that after I'm done putting out the fire I'd say "it's fine!" And then I'd think about how cute he looks for weeks on end

Fuck he's absolutely amazing in every sense of the word God, I'm supposed to use these to rant about my shitty family Not gush about my partner in heroics . Oh well

He's perfect! I swear on my mothers grave he is everything That grin he gets whenever he's about to blow someone sky high I can see almost all of his fangs when he does it, which are fucking scary by the way But I'll be damned if it isn't a little bit hot to think about He could kill me and I'll love him He could do absolutely anything to me and I'd still want him so fucking much

And!

And, and, and There's this little thing he does whenever he gets happy Where the weird bits on his tail like, shake? They move, his tail also wags But the frills don't move unless he's actually happy He can fake the wag but he can't fake the frills moving

It's so fucking cute and weird and different I love it

Anyways! This is South Parks number one worst superhero coming to you live from the top of the police station!

. . .

Shit I think someone heard me

Kyle is paralyzed as the tape ends, letting every single word soak into his brain. His tail is doing the thing, it's wagging. Every nerve in his body is alight and he feels his stomach twisting into knots. His claws are digging into the plastic of the tape player as he just stares. His eyes end up resting on his desk, his laptop, with all of his external attachments.

There's a rush to his movements as he grabs it and the oddest, most useless, thing he owns. A reverse recorder of sorts, a simple thing he crafted but never thought he'd have a chance to use. He flips open the top and jams the plug into it's socket before sliding the cassette as gently as possible into the gadget. He should not be doing this, he really shouldn't be doing this.

But he can't keep the cassette to keep hold of the audio, he needs too extract it if he ever wants to hear it again. Which is wrong, and bad, and he absolutely needs to stop but he isn't. He's clicking 'extract' and watching that loading bar fill up gratingly slow.

He places down his laptop gently and balls up the fabrics before leaving. There's a twist of wrong in his gut, but he ignores it as he swings open the washing machine door. He knows how fucking wretched this is, that he'll be absolutely ruined if anyone finds out. He won't be able to live down the shame of having anyone catch word that he knows the secret. That he knows what it is that's keeping Kenny wound up so tightly.

He'll just keep his mouth shut.

Real easy.

Real simple.

-/-/-/-

Kyle might be abusing the knowledge he garnered from the tape, maybe a little bit. He might be curling up next Kenny a little bit more than often, hunched under a flowing purple cape like a cougar despite the height difference. Just maybe he's resting his head atop Kenny's a little bit more than usual, purring a little bit louder whenever he comes into contact with Kenny.

He really doesn't care though, maybe there's a twisted sense of catharsis he gets from the knowledge that yes, it's reciprocated, despite doing nothing to change it. Being awkward homies acting like there's nothing going on below the surface is entirely acceptable and everything that he's wanted from Kenny the second his family landed. Definitely. Absolutely. He didn't imprint. He absolutely did not imprint. He killed off that instinct way back in fourth grade.

Right after he met Kenny.

One second too late. And he is one hundred percent sure everyone in his family can see it, even Ike! Except, the little shit will hold it over him if he gets a chance. Taunting and teasing that Kyle imprinted on his best friend instead of literally anyone else. Of course, the asshole knows better what with every member of his family sporting claws made to rend flesh.

"Kyle!"

The Broflovski perks up a bit at his name being called. Stan sits down across from him, sliding his safety glasses off as he does so.

"You good man?" Stan asked, Kyle nodded.

"I'm great, amazing even," Kyle said, he gestured vaguely as he spoke.

Stan stayed silent for a moment.

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh, "I think I fucked up the first day I landed."

"That was years ago, and just now it's affecting you?" Stan asked. He kicked up his feet to rest on the table.

"Yeah, and Kenny's sort of being an ass. He can trust us, he can trust us more than anyone else in this fucking town!" There's an exasperated exhale as he comes down from the near shout, "How come he's not telling us?"

Stan shrugged, "That's his business, if he doesn't want to tell us, just respect that."

"But-"

"Respect it," Stan pressed, "He might fess up to you first if you just give him time."

"I doubt it," Kyle muttered, barely loud enough for Stan to hear. His tail is snaking around his waist tightly. Tight enough he can feel it sting just a bit.

"Dude. Firstly, calm down," Stan said, Kyle glared at him. The ravenette simply gestured to the prehensile appendage squeezing the air from Kyle's lungs. He drops it, "Secondly, you're his best friend. If he's telling anyone it'll be you."

Kyle gave a hesitant nod, "Yeah, that makes sense."

Stan gave him a grin, comforting, grounding. He dropped down his feet and leaned over the table, holding out a hand. Kyle placed his atop Stan's, his hand was larger. Cyan tinted fingertips tapping along an open palm, "It's fine man, he'll tell us soon enough. It's not like he can keep a secret forever."

"No, you're right man. He can't keep a secret from us forever," Kyle said, a small grin on his face as Stan tightened his grip.

"Now stop stressing so much," Stan said, "Go get some calamari or whatever."

-/-/-/-

Kyle finds the next tape in a vent on top of Unplanned Parenthood while he's on a mission. He's quick to slide it into his pocket before Mysterion can notice. He can't just, jeopardize this discovery, he isn't even sure if he can call it a discovery if he's sure of what it is.

A shoulder collides with him and he stumbles just a bit. His arms are quick to push Mysterion right back up again. There's a crack down his lips and he looks to Kyle, "Get your head in the game, Kite!"

A blast of something or other comes straight at them and there's a brief second of hesitation before Mysterion is tossed out of the way and Kyle is ducking. The blonde is easily caught again and placed down, "Gladly," He takes Mysterion's hand, "Show me how?"

There's a smirk, bone chilling to many but it only makes Kyle's stomach flutter. Mysterion tightens his grip briefly, "Let's go then."

He's quick to launch Kyle forward with a running start, the alien tackling down whichever thug is on them now. Claws detract and tear through silver hued gloves as he snarls, easily dwarfing the goon. They're shaking as Kyle bares his fangs, tail thrashing about and body hunched in a predatory stance. Is he snarling? He is, he's proud of it too as he brings himself to be face to face.

He rears back on his knees, clawed hand raised and ready to slash. He goes to tear open their throat, but a grasp at the back of his collar prevents him. It short circuits him a little bit as the fabric of gloves press against cool skin.

"My friend here isn't exactly human," Mysterion said calmly as he released Kyle's costume. He stayed still and glanced up to Mysterion.

There's a shaky nod from the thug.

"Now, you have two options," Mysterion said. His tongue briefly slid between lips to capture the blood seeping from the crack. He circled around the dropped person a bit more, "Number one, you leave. You run to Canada, and never bother us again."

No response.

"Number two, Human Kite kills you. Right here," Mysterion snaps his fingers and as practiced Kyle gnashes his fangs with a growl, "Right now."

"I'll run! I'll leave!" The convict practically screamed.

"Fine, Kite?" Mysterion said. Claws come down atop the goons eye, deep enough to scar and maybe to go blind in one eye. Kyle stands up, red contrasting the cyan of his fingertips, he watches them run and revels in it.

Once they're far off, darting down staircases and running through the streets, does Mysterion take a seat. He drops down on the roof and Kyle takes a seat beside him, frilled tail wrapping around Mysterion's waist. A hand comes to push back the hood and he leans his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude, being a hero is so sucky," Kenny said with a light laugh, "I just wanna get killed sometimes."

Kyle gives a hum.

"I just come back anyways, but we seriously haven't faced anyone actually dangerous in years," Kenny said, gesturing vaguely as he spoke to drive in the point.

"Definitely," Kyle said, Kenny dropped down onto his back. Kyle leans back to meet him in eye contact.

"I miss when this shit was fun," Kenny said, a sigh on his voice as he spoke.

"I think that most of us do," Kyle answered with. His tongue, forked, flickered out for a brief second.

"You're just like a snake man," Kenny said.

Cyan rose to Kyle's face, "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Like, your tongue. It looks like a snakes, forked," Kenny said, he did the spock thing with his hands as if to display forked. He stuck out his tongue at the same time, "It's really fucking cool. You got some scales right? And those weird little ridges on your back? All of those are snake-y things, Kyle."

"Yeah, cause I'm a freakish little dude," Kyle said extravagantly, as if to make his point he gave a set jazz hands, gloves off to expose to smallest bit of cyan webbing. He sticks out his tongue between too sharp teeth, "Absolutely monstrous."

"I'd hardly say 'little' is the word for you, ya six foot monster," Kenny taunted back, "And I love ya for that man."

Kyle barely beats down the intensifying flush on his face, "Well, won't stop me from being at least a little bit snake like. It's more fun to be a weird creature than a human anyways," He drops down and nudges Kenny's shoulder with his head until he sits up and nudges off the silvery cape. A hand rests in a tangle of red curls for a brief moment before the alien curls around Kenny's back.

"You're also very... Cat. Very feline. Very not human," Kenny said, words teasing but loving nonetheless.

He rested his hand on top of Kyle's head, gently sifting through a sea of red. He leaned back on his friends torso a little bit as he brought a second hand to run through Kyle's hair. He shifted around a bit to rest almost on his knees, facing Kyle just a bit more. His side pressed to Kyle's lower rib cage, his hands didn't leave the redheads hair for a second. He slid down his friends face just a bit, callused thumbs briefly brushing over the ever sensitive auricle fins he had. Were they fins? Not quite, just cyan flares at the base of pointed ears.

He let his fingers scritch just past the back of Kyle's ears, resting atop the buzzed patch of hair. Olive green eyes fluttered shut as Kenny just rubbed right there, the sweet spot. He slumps into Kenny's hands, chin resting at the heel of his palm (he can't see the gentle smile on Kenny's face).

The blonde nearly explodes when Kyle starts to purr. It starts soft, but it slowly grows, shaking Kenny down to his core with his side pressed against Kyle's diaphragm. Or his lungs. Or his whatever it is that makes that wonderful rumbling sound giving Kenny enough serotonin to live forever. He already will, but this is making that eternity sound a lot more bearable. Then he hears a thudding- three, soft thumps before it resets and happens again. His tail is wagging, Kyle really likes being scratched behind the ears apparently.

Kenny's pretty sure he's falling asleep with the pads of his finger, despite being rough and scratchy, gently rubbing behind his ears. He lifts his fingers for a second too long and Kyle opens up his eyes, "Why'd you stop?" He sounds groggy and disappointed, he stops purring.

Kenny picks up the motions, "You were falling asleep," He tosses his cape over Kyle's form.

Kyle lazily blinks, one eye, then the other. He shrugs the best he can, "And?"

"Good point," Kenny said on a hum as he twirls a finger through curls, a light tug.

Kyle's tail starts to thud again and he's sure the afterglow of this will never fade.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's feeling a little bit guilty about tuning into this tape.

Not nearly enough to make him stop though.

He drops down on his bed comfortably, he doesn't even bother to put in his earbuds. His parents are out for the weekend, his brother is at Kenny's to hang out with Karen, presumably fishing. He knows that he's bound to get a call from Ike sometime in the night for a ride, for Ike, Karen, and maybe even Kenny if it's really rough. But, he'll have enough time to listen to the entirety of it.

He presses play.

I think shits getting worse I'm not using these things properly I should be using these for literally anything else! I could talk about how much I worry about my sister, or my money problems, or whatever!

But I'm still using these tapes for just a few little things

Mostly talking about Kite Not gonna use his actual name this time cause someone heard me last week I'm pretty sure I ran them out of town For good

Do I feel bad about that?

Absolutely not

Gotta protect a mans privacy, even if that means blood and intimidation Which uh, I swear it didn't involve blood This time at least

Now, log number... nine? I'm pretty sure this is number nine I would go back and check 'em all out again, but I lost one of them No clue where the little fucker went But it's gone

Kyle pauses the tape. There's missing ones- he needs to find it before Kenny does. He can just put it back later, like he'll do with this one after he's done thoroughly listening to it. He put back the last one, slid it back into the hidden pocket and acted like it never happened.

Of course, since then he's always checked the hidden pocket whenever he got a chance to do so. But, he's been unlucky in terms of finding any up until this one which leaves him with the idea that the rest have been planted around town. He shuts off his rampant train of thought- he is not going to try and sleuth out all of the tapes. He still has some respect for Kenny's privacy, he still has some intention to keep their friendship intact, and most importantly, he still has full intention of never acting on any of what he hears in said tapes.

That would give away that he's been listening to them, a risk he can't take. He clicks the button again.

Look, I always knew Kite was a weird one Everyone does The guys alien, so we cut him some slack on human things that go mostly unspoken

Conversational subtext, call frequency, having beer on ice- simple shit

And in turn, we also try to learn a bit about his species culture I don't even know if species is the right word Does that make me racist? Are aliens even a race to be racist against? Could I even discriminate if only... Three, exist on earth?

So many questions, so little time

Of course, there isn't exactly a lot about his kind I doubt there's a lot of his kind His mom keeps making quips about how all of them would come to earth if it was easier to integrate But honestly? If you just got rid of the alien extremities I would not be able to tell that Kite isn't human

Same with his parents The lot of them blend in perfectly Don't know why she stresses so much And even if they didn't, they have a human to vouch for them A bunch of humans actually

There's a brief pause where Kyle let's himself think about that for a moment. He's never had a chance to think about it before. He doesn't really dwell on it for longer than a minute, flipping himself onto his stomach. His tail lazily sways back and forth as he listens/

I think I got off point there

Allow me to relocate and get back to what I was supposed to be talking about

. . .

There is a fucking line, Kite! You stay on your side of the line! You can't just walk over to my side! Just waltz on over like you own the fucking place! And just, act like it's no big deal! You just sit down right next to me. Like. Right next to me, are thighs are fucking pressed against each other and you lean into me! You just, push your head up against my shoulder like a fucking cat until I give you attention

Which I always do I'm weak

And then you start purring, and your tail does a dumb little wag! And I'm sitting there, begging and pleading, that I don't do something dumb You're putty in my fucking hands Asking me to just shower you in attention! I do, I always do- I always sit there and give you attention

Whatever it is you want I'd give it to you I'd do it for you Anything, for you

The voice softens just a bit, lowering itself. He sounded so very, very mad. Not even mad, just agitated. His voice is heady, wrapped into the narrative he's spinning so accurately. Kyle feels his stomach flip at the words droning so deeply into his skull. The notions made his skin tingle, heart pulsating so very fast he wouldn't be shocked if it exploded all at once.

But no! I stay on my side of the line Like a good boy

Because I don't wanna freak him out Or scare him off

I feel like such a fucking perv And I am a bit pervy I am fully aware of the fact that I am known to stare if someone fine is walking by

But.

To stare at Kite? To want Kite?

It definitely caught me off guard

And he isn't human He doesn't get it I touch him I feel like I'm dirtying him Even if it's just a high five! I have too much on mind for this shit

I see that idiot and you know what I wanna to do?

Do you even wanna to know what I want do to him?

Kyle slams the pause button, he can feel his nerves shoot up in shock. His tail has went from lazily thumping back and forth to wagging like that of a dogs. The minute ridges on his back are shaking, just a bit. He may be mildly cold-blooded, but right now he really can't tell.

He looks down at his hands and they're entirely cyan, normally just a little bit at the tips. The hue shoots up his forearms. He can practically hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest, the sound bangs back and forth in his skull.

Oh.

Oh he's opened up a massive can of worms with this tape.

He keeps listening

I'd just

.

I would-

.

Fuck man I can't even say it out loud I don't know what I was thinking!

I'm sitting on top of city hall and I was about to go off about how I'd fuck him!

Could I even fuck him? Are the species compatible? Do aliens even have reproductive organs?

They must They totally do How else do they, how do they reproduce? Eggs?

. . . Nasty

But I would fucking worship him I would do whatever he asked me too Even if he's too unversed in human reproduction to ask me too fuck him up I'd still do what he asks me too

You wanna go out at that new pizza place that charges by the minute? Let's go darling

You wanna go check out the newest arcade cabinet? Baby, the cars already running

You want me to get your logo as a tramp stamp? I might not do that one actually . That's a lie I'd do anything for him

. . .

God, I'm such a mess I need real therapy

Kyle has long since buried his face in a pillow to muffle his screams (although they're closer to high pitched squeals) and cover his ears. He feels like he's running a fever, a really, really bad fever. Every square inch of his body is on fire and he can't care much that he's clawing into his pillow, downy soft feathers spilling from gouges.

He's drawing a blank.

A complete and utter blank.

He hears the click signalling it's over and he feels his stomach twist in regret.

It's a lot easier to hide that you know something if said something isn't... that, whole thing that just happened. His ears are ringing a little bit as the words ping around the sides of his head, like a game of Pong. The pillow is still keeping his face covered as he rolls onto his back, then his side, then his front, and his side again, knees pressed flush against the wall. Fuck, he feels like he's sixteen all over again, and that was just three years ago! He's too young to be having moments like this.

He mechanizes his breathing, eyes wide open as he stares at the darkness of the space themed pillow case in front of him. Sheer darkness with the occasional blip of a lighter hue. His tail is still thrashing, whipping back and forth madly, he's sure it would scuff the wall if it hit it.

He has to come down from his safe space eventually. Even if that safe space is merely a pillow pressed to his face.

He tosses aside the pillow and rolls onto his back and just stares at the ceiling.

His entire existence has officially been flipped on it's head.

He hears his cell phone ring and he reaches for it, answering before even checking whose calling. He gives a cracked, "Hello?"

"Dude are you good? You sound like you've just been crying," Came Kenny's voice, concern laid on thick.

Kyle nearly hangs upon the spot but instead he bites his tongue and doesn't say a word.

"Look man, dads being a bit of an ass, and Ike was wondering if you could come pick him up for the umpteenth time," Kenny said. He gave a hum, "Could Karen tag along?"

"Totally man," Kyle answered with as he sat up, trying so hard to still his tail. It swiped back and forth atop the blankets, he felt a little bit wrong about not telling Kenny what he knew right now. But, this is a bad time to do that, any Kyle can lie his way out of it again. He hesitates before adding, "You need an escape too?"

"It'd be nice, but you already sound tired. Did I catch you at a bad time? Were you perhaps 'jacking it', my fine, alien friend?" Kenny asked tauntingly, his smugness was palatable.

Kyle wished he could just say 'yeah' and move on instead of carefully think over his next words. Life would much simpler if his head didn't catch on the usage of 'fine' in referral to himself. His mouth felt dry but he choked out some words anyways. "Dude, what makes you think I even have a dick? I got that weird ass alien biology, don't I?""

There's a laugh on the other side, "Hey man, not all of my shots are gonna be spot on. But really, if you don't want me over I won't come," There's an tenderness to his voice and the contrast to the almost gritty and desperate tone he had on the tape gives Kyle whiplash.

"You can if you want too, but I'll probably pass out pretty fast," Kyle lied. He'd just lay in bed, wide awake, for potentially hours with Kenny on the floor beside him. That's how it usually went at least.

"Going full on feral like you did earlier takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?" Kenny asked.

Silence.

"Silent treatment, did I strike a nerve bud? Regardless, we'll be out front in ten," Kenny said, "I can make you some hot coco if you'd like."

"That'd be nice," Was Kyle's weak response.

-/-/-/-

The night was a lot more tense than either of them wanted it to be.

They usually shared a hug before actually getting into bed and trying to pass out. And if not that then Kyle would subtly demand some time to just, co-exist, in very close proximity to each other. In even more minimal situations, they would just share some words of 'love you bro' and call it a night.

None of that transpired.

"I can just go home man," Kenny offered at the break of two AM.

Kyle rolled over to the edge of his bed, leaning over it just a bit, "It's fine."

"Is something wrong? Cause like, you've just been acting... off, lately," Kenny said gently as he propped himself on his elbows, both resting on his pillow.

"Nothings wrong," Kyle said, he crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, "I am gonna ask my parents some questions when they get back."

"About what?" Kenny asked quietly, as though he were afraid of shattering the night if he spoke too loud. The navy walls cast deep blue across the room, reflecting the moonlight in a comfortable darkness.

Kyle stayed silent.

"Alien stuff?" Kenny asked.

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, alien stuff."

"Fun," Kenny answered with a scoff. He dropped back down again and turned to face Kyle, Kyle's bed frame at least, "But for real, you're just- somethings going on in your head. I can tell."

Kyle shrugged, "It's stupid."

"I won't judge man, you're my best friend," Kenny said. And he said it in such a way that for a brief second Kyle forgot about the tapes entirely.

"How are you supposed to talk to someone about something you don't want too?" Kyle asked, trying to withhold and give equal amounts of information.

Kenny paused, "Work out the words in your head. Practice once or twice, maybe even record it. Figure out what needs to be reworked. Write it out if you must- just get it out of your head."

Kyle nodded.

"Trust me man, the second it's out of your head and off your shoulders, life will be easier," Kenny explained reassuringly, "Even if it's only for a second or two."

"Thanks bro," Kyle said quietly.

"Least I can do," Kenny said.

There's a beat of hesitance, "Love you man."

"Love you too," And then Kenny turns away from him, tugging the blanket up to his shoulders.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's pretty sure that Kenny is onto him at this rate, but, he tries to ignore the terrible slithering sensation that he's been caught.

He just focuses on whatever comes next.

This time it's none other than The Coon himself deciding he needs to bring something up with Kyle. Silence drenches the room in the worst way possible as he sits across from the hybrid. Furred ears are swiveled to face Kyle and it makes him feel impossibly nervous, he knows that Cartman can hear his heartbeat. Can it hear pick up speed when Stan sits down beside him, even more so when Wendy joins.

And then Clyde, Timothy, Jimmy- all on one side of Cartman.

Tweek and Craig sit down on the side with Wendy and Stan, Scott as well.

"We know you figured it out, Kyle," Cartman said calmly, tone frigid in a way that makes Kyle feel paralyzed. The hybrid clasps his hands together in front of himself on the table.

"Figured what out?" Kyle snaps back with, trying his hardest to muster the usual snarkiness he has around Cartman. Bute he fails, miserably at that. He just sounds pathetic, grasping at straws if nothing else.

"Don't play dumb," Wendy said, she sounded sharp. She may be tough as nails, and normally Kyle respects that, admires it even, but when it's directed towards him? He gets why people run from Call Girl.

"Why in the cosmos should I tell the likes of you?" Kyle answered with, feebly trying to defend Kenny's privacy.

A privacy that he had already thoroughly breached and ravaged, alongside the unspoken trust they had. He had wrecked it, ruined it, destroyed it- but he could salvage it from the fact Kenny didn't know that Kyle knew.

"You can trust us, Kyle. We're your best friends," Clyde said. And he was right, he was so right.

Kyle's tail snaked itself around the chair leg, "Really guys, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"His secret, Kyle," Cartman said, "Tell us."

"I," He hesitated, "I can't."

"You've already fucked up your relationship with him enough, Kyle. I got Wendy to do a deep dive on your species, and of the few things she could find, she discovered this," Cartman said. He raised a folder, an awful beige and orange hue, and slid it over to Kyle.

The alien hesitantly took it. It was three pages thick, presumably doubled sided. He opened it and skimmed through the headings, he knew every single trait in and out. He paused at the highlighted one, "You're joking."

"This is serious man," Stan said, "We wouldn't just accuse you of imprinting of Kenny without any basis."

"That's stupid. He's my best friend. That's all, that's our dynamic- the kind of dynamic that rakes in loads of cash," Kyle defended with, hoping that pressing on Cartman's one pressure point would make him let up. He slammed the folder shut and slid it back, "Even if I did imprint on him, it would ruin the franchise and never be reciprocated."

"Then tell us what the secret is, you have nothing to lose, no? Just a friend, they come and go on earth," Cartman said. He was calling Kyle's bluff, did he even realize it? He probably did, or if he didn't, he'd snoop until he did.

"Ask Professor Chaos instead, he knows more," Kyle said, trying so, so hard to deflect. The tension pooling everywhere under his skin was agonizing. He needed an out so bad, he needed an escape so, so fucking bad.

Cartman scoffs, "Already done, he said he was sworn to some oath of secrecy, sent us to you."

Kyle stays silent, forcing eye contact with the sleaze in front of the him. The trash eater himself, scraping tactics from the bottom of the barrel.

"Just tell us, no harm will come from it," Cartman said sternly.

"It'll destroy my friendship with Kenny," Kyle snarled out.

"No new harm will come from it, we all know the damage has been done my friend, it's just yet to be discovered," Cartman said, words cutting into Kyle like a knife.

He bites his tongue, Cartman's right, "Give me a week to collect more information on the subject, then I'll report back with the news."

There's a smug and satisfied grin on Cartman's face as he leans back, "See? That wasn't so hard, was now?"

Kyle stands up and pushes away from the table, "I'm going."

"Don't forget about your patrol with Mysterion tomorrow evening, Kite!" Cartman calls out, head leaned back on his chairs backrest.

Kyle's tail is swaying angrily, "Fuck off."

His fangs are grinding against each other as he storms off, if it weren't for the fact he was in suit he would punt the closest chihuahua like a football. Or do something else just as dumb. Maybe kick a fire hydrant and hope it doesn't dent, or punch a tree. Something to make the tense feeling uncoil, to let himself just relax for one second.

He doesn't deserve that though.

He's been uprooting the very foundations of his friendship with Kenny, all because of some morbid curiosity. And Kenny doesn't even fucking know. Kyle is just getting away with it cause he's being awfully slick with how careful he is to put everything back exactly where he found it.

The worst part is how long it's taken for him to feel genuine guilt about it if nothing else. He's such a fucking snake, biting onto his relationship with Kenny and refusing to let go. Sinking fangs deeper and deeper, searching for more even though it's cannibalizing itself. And the first taste is all that it takes to get someone hooked, shame that the thing he got a taste of was metaphorical guts. Kenny just hasn't realized he's stuck in this ouroboros of a relationship.

Despite that, a really twisted and messed up part of him persists in wondering when he'll find the next tape.

-/-/-/-

He finds the next tape almost a week after the interrogation.

Although, we're using the term 'find' rather loosely here. Instead it sort of, fell directly into his lap. And despite knowing better and not wanting to go any further, he still held onto it and didn't let go.

"Thanks for washing my gear man," Kenny said as he stood at the door, Kyle held the bundle of purple fabrics in hand.

He gave a smile, as convincing as he could manage, "No problem man, least I can do."

"See ya tomorrow bro," Kenny said before pivoting on a heel to leave which struck Kyle as odd. The blonde usually loitered for a little bit, chatted casually about whatevers on his head. But none of that came today.

Still, Kyle closed the door and walked down to the luandry room before shaking out the purple. There was that clatter, plastic against unfinished flooring, it was just concrete at the moment. He tossed in the clothing and flipped on the spin cycle with a bit of lavender scented soap. He slid down the front of the washing machine and stared at the tape.

He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't.

He does.

He grips the tape and slams it into the player and hits the play button before he can further question his actions.

I know you're hearing this, Kyle I don't know how long you've been listening to my diary for But it's you It has to be you

Kyle swears his heart stops dead in its tracks. He barely registers that the grit Kenny forces when he's acting out Mysterion has disappeared. That this is just Kenny now.

Who else would be messing with my tapes They're never just right when you put them back You leave scuff marks on the plastic I can fingerprint things, Kyle

I planted this one And log number twelve The rest though? I don't know how many of those you've heard

I'll admit I never meant for number three to fall into your hands I just thought you'd be kind enough to not listen in

. . . How wrong I was

And it's a real shame too You better not have told the rest of the team, Kyle I will make you regret every single breath you've taken if you have

But, that's only if I can get that intel from the gang Do be warned that Cartman is very easy to persuade It won't take me much longer than ten minutes to make him crack

The rest will go even faster Although, I'd give Wendy much longer Craig? He'll be shattering in seven minutes, tops Tweek? Three, maybe four Stan? He trusts me more than you'd expect, he won't even fight

I hope I was right about you being smart, Kyle

Kyle's blood turns to ice.

He is so fucked.

At least he didn't tell Cartman.

You already know my big secret And you have two options, Kyle

Option one: Meet me at Starks Pond tonight to confirm how you feel about the contents of these logs. I'm probably sitting there right now

Option two: Don't. This horrible relationship limbo can remain just like this, on my end I've been stuck here for years

Look, Kyle, what you've done here You're forcing my hand I don't have any other options

Do what you want

I clearly can't stop you

The tape is flung from the cassette player to the other side of the room, it hits the wall and cracks. A thousand regrets pool in the pit of Kyle's stomach and he wants to vomit. He also wants to curl up in a ball and die. Or live in Cartman's basement instead, those are all good options.

But in the same breath...

He's being given a choice when he was sure this whole thing he had with Kenny would simply implode, collapse in on itself and die. He has one chance to make this better than it is. He'll never be able to make this right, but, he can at least try and reinforce the breaking pieces before it's entirely broken.

He picks himself up off the ground and starts on his way up the stairs. He freezes at the door, is he gonna do this? Is he gonna go out to Starks Pond and talk like he should've far too long ago?

Yeah, yeah he fucking is.

The real question is if he's actually gonna say whats been fueling his co-dependency with Kenny for so long.

He isn't sure if he'll manage to fess up to the stupidest biological function he has. He'll try, he'll make an attempt to explain exactly what's been conspiring inside of his head without him even realizing for so many years. He'll at the very least get out a couple words to explain the dumbest thing he's been roped into by his own genetics and unfortunate timing.

-/-/-/-

The ever-present snow and ice crunches under Kyle's boots, but that's the last thing he's focusing on. His eyes are trained ahead of hi as he walks along the edge of Starks Pond. His tail is still, a very rare occurrence.

When he reaches the edge of the pond that Kenny's standing at he's lost his words. The blonde is just staring at him, looking for tells. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his orange jacket, bright orange, pumpkin orange. Kyle can't focus on anything.

"It worked, you nosy little shit," Kenny said, words weaponized with ease.

"Yeah, it worked," Kyle said. He took a step closer, "I'm sorry," and then another, "For everything really," A third step and Kenny tenses, flinching back just a bit. In turn Kyle steps back.

"For what? Did you tell them?" Kenny asked defensively. He sounded scared more than anything else.

"I know better than that Kenny, they did interrogate me though," Kyle explained stiffly.

Kenny gives a hum, "That gets that problem out of the way."

Kyle nods, "Yeah, that it does."

"So, you listened to three, nine, twelve, and seven, right?" Kenny asked.

"Sorry," Kyle said.

"At least have the decency to dignify me with an answer man, you just fucking ruined me. I had to record that final tape five times before it was good enough to use. I swear to god, normally I'd cut you some slack and now you know why, but not this time," Kenny spat sharply, "So, you listened to those tapes, right?"

"Yep, the four that you listed," Kyle said, his attempt to stay professional just made him sound stiff and disjointed.

This time Kenny faltered before speaking, "And your opinions on them?"

"Positive," Kyle answered with faster than a bullet. His tail flicked as he spoke.

"Anything else?" Kenny asked, desperation heavy on his voice. Thick like molasses.

"I think I imprinted on you- which means something different then it does for the ducks!" Kyle was quick to backtrack on his words, Kenny just looked intrigued, "My species has a 'thats the one' instinct. If we find the right person, it activates, and according to my parents at least, it's usually subliminal. When we landed, I imprinted on you- so, to me, you're the one. And for all I know, unless you die and stay dead, that stupid ass hormonal flux won't go down."

Kenny stayed silent.

"I'm stuck fixating on you until one of us dies, my kind mates for life, and unless I submit myself to experimental science the animal part of my brain is gonna keep screaming that you're mine. Which is kind of annoying, and dumb, and gets in the way- and I didn't even realize it until I found that first tape. I've just been infatuated with you since grade four and I don't know how to make it stop," Kyle spilled, some words meshing together in a blend of syllables. Cyan progressively rose to his face the entire time he spoke. He dropped down to the ground, facing away from Kenny and towards the water, "I'm so fucking sorry Kenny."

Kenny took a few tentative steps closer to where Kyle sat, his tail lay curled around him yet limp on the ground. His ears were drooping a bit and he looked ashamed of himself, a little bit distraught at that. "I'm not gonna disown you, Kyle. That'd just be fucking stupid."

"I didn't mean to ruin your life man, you could've been scoring. God, I probably scared off so many people without even realizing it," Kyle choked out weakly. He pressed his nails into the heel of his palm, "I swear I didn't mean to imprint on you. I swear man- I can try and suppress it."

"It's fine, Kyle," Kenny said as he crouched down beside Kyle. He bumped their shoulders together.

No response.

Okay, that was worrying. It struck a particular chord in the depths of Kenny's chest. One very, very similar to the 'my sister is hurt' chord, which unlocks a specific subset of reactions. Those reactions include:

A: Unbridled violence on whoever caused this B: Giving tried and true advice C: Terrible jokes and playful punches D: Just listening with or without a glass of warm milk

None of those options seem optimal, so Kenny improvises.

"I mean, the whole 'imprint' thing doesn't bother me," Kenny said as he sat down behind Kyle. His knees were bent and he rested his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude I fucking ruined your life," Kyle got out quietly, his tail snapped to punctuate his sentence. It wrapped itself around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Beg to differ," Kenny said as he slowly raised his hands up. He gently placed them at the base of Kyle's skull, he tensed but didn't move. Kenny slowly rubbed circles in just behind Kyle's ears in the hopes it would calm him down.

Kyle leaned back into Kenny a bit, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Half of those tapes were me going off about how much I adore you and want you, Kyle. I know you have a brain in there, put it to some use," Kenny said, a small grin on his face as he spoke. He could feel Kyle start to purr, "Just think about it."

Kyle paused for a moment, to just let all of the data sink in. He felt like a total idiot when the conclusion formed in his head, "Oh."

"Yeah," Kenny answered with, "Good thing."

"I'm such a fucking idiot," Kyle said with a laugh on his voice. He squeezed a bit tighter around Kenny's leg, constricting, like a snake, "Can't wait to confirm my families suspicions."

"Do they think we're a thing?" Kenny asked as he combed his fingers through Kyle's hair.

Kyle nodded, "Probably, apparently I've been signalling some very, very vulgar and subtle things to you with my tail for the past six years. I didn't even notice my tail was moving half the time, but it was- mom and dad had to explain that to me which was fun."

"Did you stop?" Kenny asked.

"Naw, definitely not," Kyle answered with smugly, "You never knew anyways."

Kenny gives a hum, "I would say I was giving some vulgar signs myself, but humans don't have a good way to do that discretely."

"I've noticed," Kyle said, "I can read half of you like books with all the tells each of you have."

"Guess Ill have to be even more mysterious so the guys don't catch on," Kenny said as Kyle started to purr, the vibrations rapidly picking up in volume. It felt nice.

"They aren't idiots dude," Kyle said, "They'll catch on soon enough."

"Or we could just walk in there holding hands one day, wait for someone to point it out and go 'yeah we're dating now' and just act like nothing has changed," Kenny said, "Even if we don't go to the movies or eat out at restaurants- that'd be funny."

"We'll see what happens first," Kyle answered with. He holds his breath for a beat, "Love you, Kenny," There's a veritable depth to the words now.

"Love you, Kyle," Kenny answered with the same as he always has, Kyle just never noticed the subtext. He presses a brief kiss to Kyle's forehead.

-/-/-/-

Stan is the first one too notice that Kyle and Kenny are different. A good different though. They're more synced up on the field, better at silent communication, just predicting each other in general. It definitely benefits the team as a whole for the crime-fighting, but whether or not the development is good for the franchise is a whole other story.

He's the first one to ask around about it too.

"Hey Wendy, Kyle and Kenny-"

"Are acting off? I noticed," Wendy said, cutting Stan short with ease. She glanced up from her phone, "I'm already scouring about for details."

"Anything actually come up?" Stan asked.

Wendy shook her head, "Nope, you'd assume that there'd be something; but most searches are coming up dry."

"Worth a shot," Stan said with a sigh.

"You should go ask Craig, he's pretty close to Kenny," Wendy offered up and before she could finish her sentence Stan was looking for Craig.

He was sitting at his desk as usual, cruddy costume and all.

"Craig whats up with Kyle and Kenny?" Stan asked.

And without skipping a beat Craig answered with, "They're homosexuals, Stan."

"What?" Came Stan's dead response, words hollow and in disbelief.

Craig nodded to the aforementioned duo walking in, "Go ask why they're holding hands."

Stan faltered.

"Listen, if you're afraid I'm right you should've asked out Kyle sooner to avoid it," Craig blatantly accused, the words forced the air from Stan's lungs like a sucker punch.

Now aware that Craig is going to keep mentally gut punching him, Stan just heads on off to Kyle and Kenny. They are indeed holding hands, and Kyle's tail is wrapped around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Look, you two," Stan began with.

"Yeah man, what's up?" Kyle asked, and he's hiding a grin poorly. He's sure that it adds to the confusion Stan is displaying.

Kenny was right.

This is pretty fucking funny.

"How come you guys are holding hands?" Stan asked quietly.

"Kyle imprinted on me," Kenny said bluntly, "We're dating now."

"How long has this been going on for?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged, "A month, we were waiting for you guys to notice."

Craig gives a smug, "Told you so!" from his desk.

"Were you guys betting on what was happening?" Kenny asked, an undertone of a snicker to his voice.

"No, even if we did Craig would've won," Stan said spitefully.

Kyle grins a bit, "No need to be sour man, you can still break the news to Cartman, I'm sure it'll be hysterical to see his reaction."

"Dude. Let's go find Cartman," Kenny said eagerly, he was practically vibrating where he stood. Hes grinning that gap tooth grin, "I need to see his reaction right now."

"Wanna tag along?" Kyle asked, holding out a hand to Stan.

He refrained from taking it, "Totally man."

Craig sidles up beside the three of them, "I got a camera to record it."

[voxaholic]

I've been thinking about Val's death in @randomly--accessed--memories au, both what led up to it and how it happened.

I was going to make this a whole ficlet but I am an absurdly slow writer, so instead I'm just gonna ramble a bit.

Important to note: Valentino had already been on somewhat of a self-destructive death spiral basically since Vox was originally tortured. Violence, sex, and getting incredibly fucked up are the only emotional outlets he has pretty much. He was never actively suicidal but it could definitely qualify as some sort of passive suicidal ideation considering his general disregard for his own well-being. His occasional weeks-long benders where he'd drop off the face of the earth were always extremely concerning. He had non-perma died multiple times over the years, probably around twenty if I had to name an amount.

Things got slightly better in some ways after they got Vox back from the hotel. He no longer disappeared for weeks but he had also gotten in the habit of picking fights with Husk and Cherri because although he was willing to do whatever it took to get Vox back he still ended up extremely bitter at Angel for being "forced" to free him from his contract in exchange for Vox. The stipulations of the contract he signed meant that he couldn't go after Angel directly and it even specified that he couldn't physically start anything with any of the hotel guests, but Val's nothing if not a great provocateur.

It was only a matter of time before his inability to leave Angel and his friends alone got him killed. To some extent, he probably knew that. Val's always been someone fairly comfortable with his own mortality. His main problem with his first death was how painfully drawn out and mundane it was. Death by angelic dagger is not mundane nor is it particularly slow.

So, Val gets stabbed. Whether it was by Husk or Cherri doesn't really matter. The burning of angelic steel is different from that of a normal knife so immediately, Val knows he's fucked. He's been stabbed before, more times than most, so he knows he's going to die almost the moment steel penetrates flesh.

His first thought is something akin to "fuck, well it's been a good run," because again, Val has never particularly treasured his own life or been at all afraid of death.

He then stumbles away from the fight, hand over his wound, and is faced with a decision. He could slink away to die alone in a nearby alley or he could use his last burst of adrenaline to book it back to the tower and give not dying alone a try.

It's a surprisingly easy decision to come to. His feet are already moving before he even realizes he's made a choice. He's probably got a good couple minutes before he bleeds out. He can make it.

Val does make it to the tower, stumbles in the main entrance, blood seeping through his fingers as he's putting pressure on the wound to try and buy himself some more time.

It's a close call. At one point he becomes convinced he's about to die in the fucking elevator and the thought of that happening pisses him off enough that it gives him one last burst of strength which allows him to make it to where he assumes (hopes) Vox and Velvette are.

He gets pretty lucky actually. He had no idea if Vox and Vel would be in the living room-esque space in Vox's quarters or not, but he stumbles out of the elevator and is so fucking relieved to see that they are both there and he hadn't spent the last few minutes of his life fucking booking it for nothing.

Vox and Velvette of course, are extremely alarmed when Val exits the elevator, beat up, bleeding, and swaying dangerously on his feet.

There's a moment where no one says anything, then Val teeters, and almost on instinct, Vox zaps from the couch to Val's side to try and catch him before he falls.

He mostly manages to just kind of awkwardly ease Val's fall so that he doesn't hit his head. Val appreciates the attempt regardless. It was sweet how automatic it was for him.

The moment of silence passes and suddenly there is a lot of yelling. Vox and Velvette are fucking pissed, Vox especially. It's uncharacteristic of him, at least, it is these days.

Vox had improved a lot from the seven years at the tower but it feels different here. "You fucking moron, don't do this to me" Vox growls, expression torn between anguish and rage. He keeps mentioning how Val isn't supposed to die this way, not from some nobody. It's a bit like seeing a ghost.

"There you are. That's my Voxxy," Val ends up mumbling, raising a hand to kind of clumsily caress Vox's screen. His extremities are starting to go numb at this point. It's getting harder to keep his eyes open. He's running out of time and he knows it.

Vox makes a wounded sound and grabs his hand, holding it tight enough that it would probably hurt if Val could feel it.

Val's fading attention turns to Velvette. She's at his side too, trying fruitlessly to put pressure on his wound. Fucking Velvette, trying to clean up his messes even now. He still has no idea what they are to each other, why he put up with her, why she put up with him.

He put her through a lot, will be putting her through more when he croaks. He's not an apology guy but he is dying and maybe he should say it to her just once, rest the last shred of conscience he apparently still somehow has before he dies.

Val opens his mouth and something in Velvette can just tell what he's about to say and she just breaks. "Don't you fucking dare," she hisses because if he apologizes now of all times he won't have to deal with the aftermath and she'll be left alone to process Val using his fucking dying breath to apologize to her.

That makes him laugh-- more of a wheeze than anything. "Well, fuck you too then," he acquiesces and that's the last thing Valentino ever says.

It takes Velvette hours to get Vox to let go of the body.

[pwurrz]

eiden and yakumo’s comfort dynamic part 2, electric boogaloo: aka yakumo is good at comforting eiden!!!

so, obviously, yakuei shippers know this, and i definitely know this, but it’s been observed that yakumo is 1000% willing to open up his heart to eiden if eiden opens up his in return. basically, yakumo needs a trigger to comfort, but once he has it, he’s excellent at comforting eiden, saying exactly what he needs to hear in that moment. it often plays out like this:

yakumo will be sad about something but reluctant to talk about it -> eiden reveals that he feels sad/insecure about something/knows what yakumo’s feeling/has been in yakumo’s situation before -> yakumo will pick up that eiden is feeling sad and immediately comfort him -> eiden turns that around on him and says that’s exactly what he wanted to say to yakumo, comforting yakumo while also getting him to realize that the kinder, more forgiving and understanding thoughts he has in regards to eiden is how he should feel about himself

on the surface, it can seem like eiden is giving out more comfort because he has to be vulnerable first, but he chooses to be open and honest with yakumo. he has absolutely no problem sharing his insecurities with yakumo because he knows yakumo will comfort him in return, but also feel better about himself. and that’s typically how their comfort dynamic works.

until!!!!!

incognito cafe, despite only being an sr card, had a lot of character development for yakumo!! he willingly steps up to work at the cafe as a barista in order to get the clues eiden, rei, and blade need. he had been practicing making coffee for a short while before this, so he did get something out of the experience, but he was technically working two jobs, one that required him to constantly deal with people, while having social anxiety. and he handles this very well!!

yakumo’s found out that the process of brewing coffee is very calming and grounding for him. when he’s struggling to will himself to interact with someone he had a slightly negative interaction with previously, he calms himself by remembering how he feels when he brews coffee. and because he was able to calm himself down so well, the interaction goes smoothly!!

so, where am i going with this?? well, eiden obviously notices the shift in yakumo’s behaviour. and while he’s proud that yakumo is handling himself so well, he gets taken aback when for the first time, yakumo shows restraint and doesn’t immediately start having sex with eiden, despite his best attempts to lure yakumo in. he’s so used to yakumo giving in and doing whatever eiden wants him to do, that his sudden refusal and insistence on being patient almost seems like.. a rejection of eiden’s advances.

eiden gets insecure about the idea of not being able to tease and fluster yakumo, to make him blush bright red with only a few words. that’s the norm for them, it’s how it always has been, and it shows how much yakumo cares for eiden and values his opinion and praise. a sudden change like this, the idea of one day not being able to make yakumo flustered anymore.. i can only imagine how eiden’s mind might misinterpret yakumo’s actions and intentions.

and while eiden says this casually, almost playfully in the way he usually does when he talks about things during sex, yakumo immediately picks up on the meaning behind his words. and you know how he responds??

yakumo immediately comforts eiden, proving his insecurities wrong without eiden even having to say them out loud. he isn’t doing this because he’s rejecting eiden in any way!!! he still cares for eiden immensely, he cares about what eiden thinks of him just as much as he did before!!! the reason he’s resisting eiden’s advances, making him wait and refusing to be swayed by eiden’s teasing and flirtatious behaviour, is because he wants to make eiden feel good. he’s doing this for eiden’s sake. he doesn’t ever want eiden to think he’ll get tired of him, because that’s simply not true!!!!

because yes, while yakumo’s grown so much within the time he’s gotten to know eiden, he’s gained independence and confidence and learned how to calm himself down, he still craves eiden’s attention. he still wants eiden to look out for him, to support him, and to catch him when he falls. because he loves eiden, dearly.

yakumo’s love is fierce and passionate and unconditional. and if eiden doubts that love for even a second, yakumo’s right there to remind him just how wrong he is. he will never outgrow his love for eiden, ever.

[1yyyyyy1]

what do you think about poly? i hate it because i don't think its possible to actually be in love with 2 people without pair bonding more with one, or value someone while having sex with someone else. i feel like it's a cover for how shitty men and some women are at commitment. a part of me believes men don't feel true love or intimacy, but admitting that only makes me feel like i'm validating them when they say they can't commit and it's "unrealistic" but it's really just being a good partner.

I like not to think about it :) Everything I've learned about polygamy has been against my will… I distinctly remember a male on Reddit describe his experience with polygamy, in which he spoke about having a "polygamous mindset" for a lack of a better word. He was in a committed relationship with a monogamous woman and chose monogamy because he liked her as a person (I'm guessing polygamy was a hard boundary for her). He said that, aside from the pull to be with multiple people, him being polygamous meant that he was genuinely happy with his partner seeing (and sleeping with) other people and enjoying it; it didn't sound like he was describing a fetish and it was in general different from the idea of polygamy I previously had in mind. It stood out to me because he was mostly talking about his attitude towards his girlfriend partnering others and not his personal gain, so I could see how it could be a mutual dynamic between compatible partners. This kind of changed my opinion on what polygamy could be like if it involved emotionally mature and self-aware people, even if didn't make me understand the appeal any better.

Generally speaking, I don't have a strong opinion on polygamy (or polyamory) because I prefer to concern myself with the things that are for me. I can imagine polygamy working out for people, even if only within the confines of a thought experiment, so I'm not going to dismiss it on the premise that it is inherently dysfunctional. I'm not going to dismiss it in favor of monogamy either because I don't view monogamy as a sign of adjustment. Some people are into monogamy because they are obsessive and controlling, and monogamous partnerships are still notorious for cheating and turning into an "open relationship". I'm less and less inclined to be picking a side as people always seem to find a way to pervert whatever it is I would be supportive of... It is possible to stand up for your preferences without disparaging the other option — and risking being wrong in the process. The reason I would only ever consider monogamy is very simple — I don't like sharing my life on a profoundly personal level with multiple people. My overall personality traits coincide in a way that makes this unfeasible for me. I am very private about my life experiences and I would not share them with someone who is not fully invested. I also see relationships as a learning experience, and since I like getting to the bottom of things I would be genuinely distressed if me getting closer with someone were diluted by some other person's contribution. This may sound like a self-absorbed approach to something as reciprocal as a relationship, but laying down the precise terms on which you enter one makes it impossible for people to sway your opinion in a direction that doesn't benefit you. It doesn't matter to me if my standards are framed as "a desire for ownership" or "controlling", which are all common accusations made against monogamy. The point is that I would never consent to a relationship (let alone sexual contact) with a person who is not willing to match my commitment and views on privacy, it would violate my personal boundaries and I am better off not entering a relationship altogether until my conditions are met.

I would argue that there is an issue with commitment on people's part, but I would attribute it to something other than a specific relationship model. What I see is that most relationships are formed out of convenience, and revolve around reproduction, shared finances and sexual gratification. The reason I believe this results in commitment issues is because these are all non-specific traits most functional adults can perform and provide. There is not much ground for personalized bonding, and this approach can result in indecisiveness about which partner to commit to (if at all). This, of course, can also lead to multiple partners being a valid option at the cost of them being entirely replaceable... To answer the question the second time — I do think that relationships that involve multiple people can be a sign of poor commitment and superficial bonding.

As for men's inability to love, I don't see acknowledgement as endorsement and I don't understand why it is such a common notion. My negative assessment of people is there for me to have an understanding of what I am dealing with, not to validate said people. In acknowledging that men are incapable of commitment, I choose to allocate my efforts to someplace else because attempting to change a person's behavior is a waste of my time. I don't feel responsible for men's stance on faithfulness; I believe them to be capable enough to live in accordance with their convictions regardless of outside influence. I know for a fact that no amount of external validation would make me cheat on my partner, so it is not a stretch to extend these expectations to other people, including men.

[fireangelsstuff-inactive-2024]

Thanks ❤️ angela for your readings..I am B bee🐝 I need more clarification about the FS reading. ..I feel like I need more inner work to do..all things you said about me is true..but I want to know who is my fs like his personality,jobs etc.

Last request to you that would you read on me like my past experience is pain ful I know but can it effects my personality??if I have any disorder regarding my personality...pull some cards on my personality please 🥺

Hey B,

It's nice to meet you 😊

Let's see if we can't get some characteristics for you

10 of Swords/Judgement/King of cups/The Hanged man/Ace of Swords RV/Empress RV

Hmmmm a flair for the dramatic when arguing, has a tendency to see the negative outweigh the positive and may be a bit "doom and gloom" if things haven't turned out the way they had planned for, but this tendency to expect the worst may be due to their own past experiences, choosing to expect the worst so if something better eventuates they are pleasantly surprised and more than willing to celebrate wholeheartedly if it does

They will always be prepared for things, personal paperwork in order/money out away for a rainy day, they will follow their gut feelings on whether to trust someone or not and will not sway from their opinion once made and is difficult to fool, they are not afraid to hear the truth not speak it if they see the need for it - they may be honest to the point of some people perceiving them as.....blunt

Pragmatic, not the flashy type, will be a good leader, I imagine it's the type of empathy drawn from their own personal experiences, they've learned what's important to take note of in judging someone's character, while they may appear balanced/neutral on the outside - they've gone against the odds and been through it to get where they are - like THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH IT - and will make their life choices according to what will prevent ever going back to how things were, even so once you have earned their loyalty they are steadfast in it, this one doesn't take their relationships lightly and chooses both their friends and their partner carefully

Likely to put others needs in front of their own but only while they are capable of doing so without disadvantaging themselves as they've learned better, while their idea of what to prioritise may not be evident to others they have reasons for the order of importance they place things in, again decisions once made are firm with them - selfless while capable, they understand the need to secure your own footing first, likely a hard worker

They seem intelligent because they are decisive, while they may not be the chatty type you can rest assured that they are indeed paying attention to the little things, are good with detail and will often seek out more information, it seems those firm decisions are informed ones and is part of the reason why they stick to them, however this will make them a bit stubborn, they will stick to their guns, that natural leadership may make them prone to wanting to maintain control which can be a bit over bearing to others especially since they also consider themselves the alpha - may come off a bit bossy or controlling sometimes but overall reliable in their words and actions

I would not be surprised if this personality type is drawn towards something that places them in a position of authority, not necessarily legal authority like law enforcement but they would be aiming for at the very least being in charge of others

Onto your last request B:

Wheel of fortune/2 of Pentacles/Nine of Cups/Nine of Swords/Queen of WandsRV/Ten of pentacles/Nine of Wands

The chance to change, depending on how you choose to perceive this opportunity can determine its outcome, if you see it as a positive it will likely be good, if negative it will likely be bad

Your personal outlook will create your reality - have you considered that brain training to adjust the way you react?

Your biggest issues:

Taking on too much at once and spreading yourself too thin

Wishful thinking and perhaps letting things not have the attention they need to keep planning ahead well

The way your outlook affects your mood and resulting decisions

How can you fix these things:

Honour yourself first, I get the impression of what's called "Rushing woman's syndrome", have you heard of it? It's a book by Libby Weaver that may be worth a read

"The term 'Rushing Woman's Syndrome' was coined by Dr Libby Weaver. It evolved out of her observation of women's health being drastically affected by the constant rush that many women now live in"

Stick to your commitment once it's been made, you know your own mind, I'm looking back at that Queen telling you not to hand over your personal power and to listen to you inner voice more, and if people can't get on board with it then leave them to their own devices, it's not your job to convince them of what you already know is good for you,

Build up your personal resilience, the challenges you have gotten through are reasons to celebrate, I keep getting this message with you, create boundaries with others that maintain a healthy inner circle environment, honey if someone's being toxic to you or making you feel undermined, walk away from them and don't let them get in your ear, this 9 at the end is encouraging you to do this

The change you want is under your own power if you keep it safe from the undue influence of others doubts

💜🪽🌟

[sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe]

vacuum trivia;

the average emotional density of a black hole

art has no defined shapes

there is no rule book, no curriculum, no diagnostic manual

everything’s art; the way the sun burns skin through the sieve of a stained glass window

the way fingerprints throb after hair dye and guitar strings have just spent the better part of an hour trying to destroy them

the way your heart drops to see a sliver of recognition from the other side of a camera

to see someone walk around with all the glamour of your lost friendships and best mistakes,

and think, ‘oh hey, hello! i remember you. i boxed you out of my personalty years ago, where’ve you been, how’s life?’

art can’t die, as long as it’s been witnessed

it can be destroyed, forgotten, molded into a skin sack of lost potential and left to rot, but it can’t die.

even if the only person to ever know it existed is the one who introduced and summarily parted it from existence, it’s still alive

maybe it was an embarrassment to your craft, maybe it was bland and a waste of thirty minutes, but it was thirty minutes. 

if tulips bloom for a day and get eaten by deer before the next morning,

the colors were still there. destruction does not invalidate past interaction.

art lives, unto itself, in a vacuum

it cannot be created in one, it cannot be consumed without noise getting added

but a scribble, a stained canvas, a novel, a life’s work, has no opinions of its own

it has the opinions of its owner, it’s creator, muse, god and executioner 

the knowledge accumulated by the sheer luck of being alive pressed against it by anyone who chooses to walk past and put their face on the glass, but the piece itself

it’s just words. it’s just thoughts, concept, schrödinger’s masterpiece

is it art if no-one can find it? 

is it art if it’s been broken up, between floorboards and daisy fields

and the whiskey ring mocking an ex-alcoholic from the bottom of a grinning shot glass?

can i call this art, if I hide it in the middle drawer of a motel room and sway home with the acrid smell of gasoline caked under my fingers?

i am so constantly afraid of fucking up that i’ve cordoned off my ability to breathe without pressure

my fear strangles out hubris nine days out of ten, and i’m not unconvinced it uses the days off to simmer in some fresh dread, ripe from the cherry tree, and picked out special

art is subjective, and mutating, and has the capacity to grow so much further than its host ever intended

and my ribcage knots itself together under the acknowledgement that my career is one day going to hurt someone other than me

i am flexible, i trust my ego to string itself up by the last vestiges of spite to carry me home

but the idea, the statistical certainty that my greatest joy will cause pain, and harm, completely without intent, steals breath from my lungs

does the art have value if it hurts without aim?

malice is all well and good, but pain without worth, to brandish hot pokers with such little care as to burn those merely bystanding

better then, to recoil from my skill, to abandon these principals

to create without vision, cash in on a piece of white bread, hold the calories

sell air the scent of lukewarm wax and never see blood spilled again

or topple a stand of candles into a bonfire and pray you’ve taught yourself enough restraint to put the dancing flames out, eventually

the answer, of course, is care.

is moderation, look both ways before crossing the street, double check yourself constantly

not for malice, but for mines you may have forgotten behind trees with crooked limbs

accept criticism not without defense, but without passion, that poison, lacing your tongue

look before you leap into that tar pit of confirmation biases

there’s an echo chamber right before you reach the hall of mirrors

be willing to bleed your palms into stinging concrete and agonizing recognition

and you’ll be fine, kid.

breathe out, breathe in, and just…

try not to choke on your sense of self-control when that finally makes a run for it

it’ll circle back around, eventually.

when’s the decline of civilization as we know it scheduled for, again?

[urstruly-ghst]

Could i get headcanons of ace and deuce fighting over their same crush? It can be poly if you want :)

note : its open ended on each hc! so it'll be your interpretation if it's purely separate or poly :>

ace trappola 

Used to getting things he wanted, Ace didn’t like the idea of sharing. Although he can still be a bit kinder to others, specifically you, he still hated sharing. The youngest of his family, Ace, was someone who got a lot of things immediately. 

Likewise, this does extend to other things. Success? He liked the solo success, but you can bask in it. Just have 10% of it. Pie? A crust with little cherry filling, take it or leave it. Cheeky and a bit inconsiderate, Ace always was this pain when it came to sharing, So it shouldn’t surprise anyone he was vehemently possessive over you. 

Back to you, Ace was stubborn to let anyone like you too. While he adores the fact you get the recognition and care you deserve, he hates the fact someone sees you in the same way he, Ace, does. He didn't take it well and probably became more brash and annoying. This applied to everyone, but he was harsher with Deuce, who he could push the right buttons to get on his nerves. 

Chores? All somehow on Deuce’s list. His favorite food? Ace gave it to someone else. His time with you? Uh-oh! The dorm leader or a senior is calling him. However, that charade won’t last as long as he would like. Ace gets roped into trouble too…

Overall, the whole thing for Ace is his sly nature to monopolize you alone. He adores you and wishes his efforts would make you realize he can be loyal to a fault—that and how he can be a tough nut to crack. You would notice it. Eventually, you forced him and Deuce to sit with you. What happens next makes Ace hold his breath…

“I get it, and I was a biiiit rude to Deuce. Okay, I was super rude to him. Yes, I did that. I just wanted your attention, okay?! Ugh, this is why feelings are weird. Also, what’s up with this guy sitting with us?! Don’t tell me I have to apologize! Wait… Is this?”

deuce spade 

Deuce was different from Ace and was more open to sharing with people. He was his opposite yet his mirror at the same time. While he can stand sharing and isn’t a hogger like Ace, he has a possessive streak in his thoughts. Though, it is different from Ace’s possessiveness. 

Like Ace, he would distance others from you, but he deviates from Ace, except he isolates time for a limited slot. He lets you go to do whatever, but he would be selfish to steal some time from you. He shares you openly because he thinks asking for too much of you would be weird.

Though he was this “kinder” version, he was still mean. He’d bully Ace sometimes, like crushing him underneath his cauldron, purposely forgetting to tell him he has last-minute scheduled duties, somehow letting Riddle collar him, and even going as far as making him run around the P.E field. 

It was his own petty fight, and he rarely brought out his fists to fight with Ace. However, he puts his foot down when Ace lets his selfishness be the better of his already lousy image. That means Deuce can see Ace already imagining you two being married. 

In the end, he was swayed by your lovely reasoning: talk it out with his rival. Deuce likes the fair game and would always be willing to make things right. So, when you offered to let him sit down with Ace, you in the middle to mediate, he accepted quickly. And during that event, you said something that made him agape, a breath escaping him without ever returning.

“Shut up, Ace! I am doing this for them, not you. Also, can’t you appreciate their efforts to sit us down?! Ugh. Also, didn’t you– Ah, right, sorry, sorry. I will be civil, Prefect! Sigh, you’re really something to us… Ugh! Ace! Move it. You’re in my space!”

[utilitycaster]

Do you have any tips for a level 8 light cleric on how to be better at preventative healing? For context, I just joined a campaign where there's a house rule that healing from unconsciousness gives the healed target a level of exhaustion. Many guides for clerics tell you to wait until people are unconscious to healing word them, which would be detrimental in this campaign. When I asked a thread of self proclaimed dnd "optimizers" for advice, I was told by 3 people to wait until level 9 and stock up on diamond dust for greater restoration.

Hey anon,

So, to be honest, I hate the unconscious exhaustion rule, and so while I think the “optimizers” you spoke to aren’t dealing thoughtfully with your reality or actually listening to you, I do get where they are coming from. I also want to apologize for using this as an opportunity to vent a lot of stress, and have given you a brief summary in which I try to be normal and placed the venting at the bottom where you can ignore it.

The short-ish answer in which I am normal:

It’s ok and good to just heal people after they’ve taken a hit, and I actually disagree quite strongly with the strategy of waiting until people go unconscious to heal; pre-emptive healing is actually very smart. Also, talk to your party members! It is not metagaming to say “how are you doing”; it’s an acknowledgement that you cannot actually see the imaginary blood from their imaginary wounds. Build a strategy in which you use your cantrips and channel divinity, or if your stats permit, weapon attacks, to deal damage; and spam healing word. Alternately, if you’re willing to get up close and personal, Cure Wounds and Spiritual Weapon pair well together.

Buffing the party, particularly their HP, before combat is very useful. The spell “Aid” is your best friend. Casting Sanctuary on yourself and then focusing ONLY on buffs is not a bad idea either; Warding Bond and Beacon of Hope are also your friends.

This rule sucks and is very poorly balanced. It is worth talking to your DM about how it really hamstrings healers in particular, and has the potential to become a massive death spiral, and honestly isn’t fun or interesting. Ask them why they’ve chosen to use this house rule, and see if you can’t make the case for getting rid of it, because it is terrible.

The long answer in which I am unhinged, but am hopefully funny to someone other than myself, and largely say the same thing as was said above, plus more, is below the cut.

The good news? Always waiting until people are unconscious to heal them fucking sucks as a strategy even without this rule and people who say to do it are wrong. It presumes the DM isn’t going to have a particularly bloodthirsty enemy hit when you’re down; it presumes the wizard doesn’t throw an errant fireball; it presumes they won’t roll a nat 1 on the death save; it presumes the healer doesn’t get stunned or knocked out before they can get to people. Like, yes, sure, the last hit point is the only one that matters, but if they have 10 HP, and you heal them for 5 HP so they have 15 HP, and then they take a hit of 11 HP, then they are still up! Do you only fill your car up when it’s on empty? Do you only go grocery shopping when there’s nothing in your house but freezer burnt cauliflower, uncooked brown rice, and baker’s chocolate? Do you only go to sleep when you start swaying and being utterly unable to focus your eyes? Or do you ENGAGE in some fucking PREVENTATIVE MAINTENANCE and SELF CARE from time to time?

So I don’t have a formula or anything, and anyone who does have a formula is either psychic or overconfident, but having played a main healer, heal people when they seem to have taken a few hits or when they say “I’m in rough shape.” Lean heavily on decent damage cantrips (you’ve got potent spellcasting) and don’t hold back on using Radiance of the Dawn. If someone’s taken a lot of hits? Healing word them.

Some other things to consider:

Aid is an under-utilized low-level cleric spell that grants 3 of your allies 5 temp HP for 8 hours, without concentration. If you upcast it you increase the temp HP by 5 per level, ie, if you’re willing to use a single 4th level slot on this, that’s 45 HP you don’t need to healing word bit by bit.

In general, look at buffs. See below for why I think the actual solution is to tell your DM that this rule is hot garbage and they should get good; but until such time as that has been resolved I strongly advise taking advantage of the extensive passive damage options available to you. The reason why I think that telling clerics, specifically, to only heal when a PC goes down is so fucking bad is because the cleric spell list is literally fucking built on the presumption that you cast one thing and then spam heal. Spiritual weapon is a bonus action so that does assume you’re doing cure wounds instead but Spirit Guardians, Sanctuary, Beacon of Hope, Warding Bond, and Protection from Energy will all either protect you, do damage without you having to cast a spell, protect your allies, or optimize the healing you get. Also, pick up Mass Healing Word so that one person going down doesn’t turn into multiple people going down.

Tell your DM that this rule is dumb and bad. Maybe be more tactful than that, but also, maybe don’t! Because this rule fucking sucks. Even Rusty Quill Gaming, which was run in the far more unforgiving pathfinder, by someone who delights naught but misery and subpar financial management skills, did not have this rule. It really does make the role of the main healer about a thousand times less fun, particularly for a light cleric who has access to such things as scorching ray and fireball. I like playing a healer; I was a primary healer bard main for several years which really is perhaps the most non-damaging character you could play, but I still do not actually wish to be a healbot, and this pushes the healer towards that, and it’s fucking stupid and unfair and if I find whatever Reddit knuckledragger came up with it, I will make them require healing and take a point of exhaustion, that’s for fucking sure.

It’s a radical concept, I know, but what if the rules of D&D as written were, perhaps,  means tested by people who considered both game balance and player enjoyment! The overwhelming majority of house rules are made by people who think their cheeky little addition makes them fucking Marcel Duchamp creating L.H.O.O.Q. but they are in fact a toddler drawing on the wall with a crayon that they are then going to stick up their nose, and then try to eat. 

I mean, this is wildly out of scope for this question, but I think a lot of people see D&D Ideas (TM) on the internet that, at best, are made for very specific scenarios and should be used sparingly, in those specific scenarios, after serious discussion with everyone at the table and ideally unanimous approval, and should be frequently reviewed to see if they still work for everyone. At worst they are just like, things that suck that someone added because they lacked the self-control to simply admire the shiny red fire hydrant that is Dungeons & Dragons 5e and instead just had to piss on it to mark their miserable little territory. And I think people are reluctant to say “hey this house rule sucks” because it’s something someone created, but on the whole I think the majority of house rules suck and shouldn't have been created! And house rules you find on the internet usually SUCK MORE because you’re NOT EVEN IN THE HOUSE THEY WERE INTENDED FOR.

The exhaustion rule is also particularly stupid because I think the motivation is often said to be “realism” and it’s like, well, in real life people cannot cast Eldritch Blast, you fucking idiot, and not becoming exhausted by a little concussion from a troll's club is part and parcel of that same fantasy world.

One of the many really good things Brennan Lee Mulligan said recently on Adventuring Academy is that players learn the logic of the world from the DM. If every NPC attacks the party, suddenly the party will begin attacking first. If going unconscious grants exhaustion…well then why get in fights? Why not focus on assassination or deception for encounters? Why not fucking quit and become potato farmers? Why not take two nights rest after each fight, saying “well we know the world is ending tomorrow, but consider: we have a level of exhaustion because of YOUR FUCKING BULLSHIT”? Why not start stealing health potions, if this is the logic of the world you live in? Why not run away from encounters if your health is getting low - monsters do that all the time!

I think people forget that D&D is actually a relatively delicate balance, and this is looping back around to what I said about means testing. Like, have a mature talk with your DM like an adult and give them a chance to say "oh, that makes sense" because it could be that they are well-intentioned and merely inexperienced. But if they still cling to this rule after you tell them that it sucks, I am giving you carte blanche to engage in blisteringly malicious compliance in and out of game. Conspire with the rest of the party to all take the tough feat. Bully the magic shop owner for HP-boosting items. Generally become the living worst, because this house rule is AWFUL.

Anyway: tell your DM to rethink this, heal early and often, use buffs, and if your DM does not rethink having this as their house rule then burn down their house or at least rethink having them as your DM.

[catras-witchy-girlfriend]

"You Love Me"|

Catra x Reader| Nsft

Content Warning: Smut, F4F, slight breast play, self deprecation, hurt/comfort, mentions of Shadow Weaver's abuse, cursing, talk of physical/emotional abuse, implied first time, comfort sex, nsfw, slight degradation, top/bottom, overstimulation, -please tell me if I missed something-

"Catra?" You asked out to her private, empty dorm. You scanned her room with a quick glance, and found no trace of the beautiful women you were seeking. However, just before you were about to head out to look elsewhere, you heard quiet sobs from inside her dorm's small bathroom.

You crossed the room as quickly and quietly as possible, though you were almost certain that she would still hear you.

You knocked softly at the bathroom door, but it swung open on its own to revel your partner looking absolutely forlorn. Catra tried to avert her gaze, but her body language gave her away. She was hunched over the sink, her hands to her face, and her red mask forgotten on the floor.

"Kitten, are you-" You stopped. It was obvious she wasn't okay, and knowing Catra, if you asked her that she would only lie. "-is there anything I can do?"

"N-no." Her voice tried to hold it's typical silvery, commanding voice, but fell flat as the words came out more like a croak.

You could tell by the way she wrapped her tail around herself and closed in more that she felt embarrassed.

"Just leave..." She whispered so quietly you almost couldn't hear it, and perhaps, she was hoping you wouldn't.

Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, you brought your hand to the bathroom door before turning and saying, "You don't have to hide yourself from me, kitten. I love you, every single part of you, even when you're messy, even when you're sad, or angry, I love it all, kitten."

Just as you were about to turn around to leave, her cracked voice asked, "Do you really mean that?"

You offered her a loving smile, "Every word."

And just like that, the facade fell apart. Catra allowed her hands to fall from her face, and her red puffy eyes to meet yours. You gasp and strode over to her, and gently wiped away the tears running down her face.

"What happened, my love?"

Her face scrunched in a confused mix of sadness and anger. "Shadow Weaver! She...she left me...for Adora again! It's always Adora!"

Then as quick as the anger came, like even the wildest of storms, it too parted ways. "Am I just that worthless to her? Am I just that... unlovable?"

"Stop it, kitten." You replied sternly, taking her face in your hands to have her look at you. "You are brilliant, and sure as fuck not unlovable. It's Shadow Weaver, that women has no idea how to love! All she knows is how to use people, that's all you and Adora are to her, your puppets on her string."

You moved closer to her, your mind racing as it wracked itself trying to find some way to make Catra feel better, and understand the deep, and eternal love you had for her, "You're not worthless, kitten, not in the slightest. You just are incapable of controlling, you're too strong willed, and too stubborn to make into a puppet. That's why she always picks Adora, because it's so much easier to control someone like her who doesn't know any better."

She shook her head, pulled you into her, and nuzzled her face in between your neck. You closed your eyes, swaying the both of you as you brought your hand to her thick hair to comb through.

"Logically, I know you're right," You felt her claws dig lightly into the back of your clothes, surly unknowingly leaving more holes. "but I can't shake this feeling that everything she's ever said about me, about being useless, worthless, a mistake, a screw up, and unlovable, that it's all true."

"I can't stand this..." You breathed out as you looked to the browning ceiling.

When you looked back at her, your eyes held an obvious sadness, but also a fire and passion that refused to be burned away. "Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you can't really see me, or that you are simply counting down the days until I abandon you, well it's never going to happen, kitten."

"That's not true, princess."

"I know...I know...Shadow Weaver...she broke your heart, kitten, but it's nothing that can't be fixed. But by giving your heart to people like Adora, Hordak and Shadow Weaver, expecting one day they're going to show up and put you back together again...it's never going to work."

You rocked slightly on your feet, your own tears now brimming your eyelids. "Can't you see it, kitten? Scorpia, adores you! You're her best friend and she always wants nothing but the best for you. Entrapta loves to mess with you, and play with you, but she does it out of love because she loves to see you teasing back. And me..."

Finally the tears slipped by, and though your first instinct was to wipe them away, instead you grabbed Cat's hand and placed it gently on your cheek as you nuzzled into her, "Can't you feel it, Catra? You set me on fire." You laughed. "You make me feel alive. Before I switched to your unit, my only ambition was to make it to the next day, but with you? I want you, I want your love, and your trust, and I want to show you everyday how much I love you, and that...well that might be the most ambitious thing of all, isn't it?"

She stayed silent for a moment. Her eyes darting between yours as if searching desperately for any sign of a lie that she would never find. Then, her gaze fell to her hand on your face, the redness of your cheeks and nose from crying, and the soft pout on your lips.

With her free hand she lightly stroked your bottom lip with her thumb, tilted her head, and allowed a soft smile to grace her features. "So ambitious...thinking you can teach me how to love again."

You shook your head, and moved so close to her that you could feel the warmth radiating off her, "I don't need to show you how to love, kitten, you already know how to do that, I just want to be able to show you how much I love you."

A few moments passed before Catra kissed the corner of your mouth before whispering with a mischievous smirk, "Then what are you waiting for? Show me."

Though at first slightly taken back, you wouldn't waste even a moment to take advantage of this opportunity. You wrapped your arms around the nape of her neck and pulled her into your lips.

Though slightly rough, you relished in the process of kissing the girl of your dreams. You took a hand and began to comb through her large mane mindlessly.

Barley able to think at all, you both just let your bodies do most of the talking. She was flushed against you, her chest heavily pressed against yours.

You sighed helplessly into the kiss, and gently ran your fingers to the crop of her bust. "Can I take this off, kitten?"

Her eyes went wide, had Catra ever experienced something like this? With how gorgeous, talented, and confident she was, you always assumed she would have women falling over to be with her, you thought.

"Take yours off first?" Catra mumbled shylily before quickly adding, "I'm not nervous or anything, I just thought you might want to-"

"I would love to, kitten." So you pulled her to you as you backed against the wall, then quickly pulled off your top. "Do you feel comfortable taking yours off..."

Suddenly, your eyes burned in a way Catra had never seen, as a mischievous smile crossed your features. "Or are you going to have me strip down to nothing before I get to see your perfect body?"

Her eyes went wide, in a way you felt like a completely different person, or perhaps you just finally felt safe being so vulnerable with someone.

Catra cleared her throat, bringing her hands to the back of her corset and letting it slip off her body. Before she even got the cropped black jacket off she noticed how your eyes widened, the mischief from before disappearing completely as it was quickly replaced with want.

Soon the jacket was off too, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride looking at you. A small whimper escaping your mouth, your hands pressed firmly against the wall as though you were trying to force yourself not to touch her, and your legs noticably squirming.

Catra laughed, putting her hand against your head as she leaned on the wall. You mentally cursed yourself as there was a moment when you couldn't bring your eyes away from her chest. Her copper skin spotted in dozens upon dozens of freckles, large milky scars lining her arms from where Shadow Weaver electrocuted her, and small tuffs of fur-like hair on her chest and down her stomach.

Catra pulled your eyes to meet hers and your face flushed a deep red as though you were just caught stealing from a candy store. "Eyes up here, princess."

Something about the way she said that made you shiver. Your pupils expanding at the sight of her, like she was the only light in a infinite darkness.

You nearly melted completely under her before you remembered why you were in the potision you were in, "No." You told her sternly as you quickly flipped you two so you know had her pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to the base of her ear, which twitched at the feeling of your warm breath against them. "That's a bad kitty, getting me all worked up, but this isn't for me. This is for you," You used your nose to signal her to tilt her head up and started kissing her neck and let your free hand trace her features from down her raised arms, across her collar bone and down the valley of her breast. "This is all for you. You said you wanted me to show you how much I love you, do you still want that, kitten? Do you want me to show you?"

You gasped and giggled as the mere idea made her lean her head back and her chest begin to rumble with purrs.

You went back to kissing and sucking her neck, Catra lightly struggling against your hold, but you weren't worried. You knew she was enjoying this, because in truth, if Catra didn't want you touching her like this she would easily, quickly, and brutally remind you of your manners.

Still, you couldn't help but tease her by tracing the definitions of her breast without ever touching them. "You didn't answer me, kitten, I'm not gonna touch you unless you tell me you want it."

A strange mix of a whine and growl eurrepted out her mouth, "I hate you."

You laughed almost sinisterly, the power trip admittedly getting to your head. "Aww, you could never hate me...I make you feel too good for that~"

She moaned as she once again struggling against your gasp, this time getting her hands about 2 inches from the wall before she whined loudly as she let her arms fall back.

"Touch me," she cried, making you smile. "please..."

"Damn it," you groaned as you kissed her lips again, and finally brought your hands to her soft breast. "I would've loved to keep teasing you, but," you bit her bottom lip slightly, letting the hand that was keeping her pinned fall to feel up her backside. "youve got me wrapped around your finger."

You continued to kiss her roughly as your hands massaged her chest. Your body felt as though it was on fire, the need and want making you two moan into each other's mouths.

After a few more moments you whined and pulled away. "Fuck, I can't do this, I'm taking these off."

You quickly undid your pants and tossed them to the side, but much to your dismay, Catra used the moment of weakness to scoop you up and plop you on her bed, and quickly climb over you. Catra once again began to kiss you roughly before she ran her coarse tounge down your neck making you cry out and arch your back as she moved to give you open mouth kisses and biting the marks lightly between her fangs.

You moved your hands down to her ass, squeezing her harshly. "No, no, no! I'm~ ah~ I'm s-suposed to be making you~you feel like this~!"

You swear as you could feel the burning feeling travel down between your legs. She laughed evilly at the helpless look on your face, "Sorry, princess, but we both knew you werent gonna be on top for long."

Your chest rose and fell like waves crashing to the shore, before you had an idea to get back what you wanted. "Okay, okay, kitten you can be on top, but can I~" You pulled lightly at her red shorts. "please, kitten~ I wanna see you, all of you~ please? I promise, I'll be good."

Catra chuckled and dragged her claws gently up your jaw, "Well...I would usually make you beg for me~" You whined as your complaint. "~but you looked so hot thinking you can control me like that. So I suppose there's no harm in seeing your prize."

Without a second thought, you watched Catra slowly strip herself of her shorts, underwear and black stockings. With herself completely bare in front of you, she spread her arms with an adorable prideful smile, "Happy?"

You smiled and innocently pulled her down to your lips, gave her a soft kiss and ran your hands through her hair as she kissed you.

"Very~" With that you slipped your knee in-between her thighs and pulled her hair back. A roaring mewl rumbling through her in her shock. You moved slightly beneath her, her slick dripping down your knee. "Aww, kitty, you're so wet~"

"F-fuck you."

You laughed, "Not right now, kitten, I'm going to show you how much I love you~" You began to rock yourself under her, making her cry and begin grinding down on your leg to keep up the friction. "~Im going to make you feel it so deeply, that you never ever doubt it again. Please, let me do that for you, can I do that for you?"

Though it was clear by her face she was frustrated that you had gotten the best of her, the redness of her cheeks, and the way her eyes were screwed shut showed that she now wanted something more than bragging rights.

She nodded with a small whimper and a barley audible, "please."

You smiled gratefully and stopped your movements.

"W-what are you-!" Catra began to hiss at the lack of friction before you used her arm to pull her higher up your body until her pussy was almost in your face.

"You wanted to be on top? You wanted to be in control? Then pull my hair and ride me, kitten."

For a moment you watched as she looked down on you from above, her chest heaving. The sight of her core so close to you, and her breast above you was almost enough to make you cum on the spot.

"All right, princess, you want me to ride you?" She fully brought herself up to you, so you could just see her pussy in all it's beautiful glory. Soaked, red, and begging to be fucked raw. "Then take it."

You didn't need to be told twice. You brought her down on your tounge by her thighs, and she quickly grabbed onto the base of your hair.

You moaned as the length of your tounge teased her tight hole. Her slick coating you as you continued to lap it up.

From above you Catra ground into your face, both of your moans and cries mixing together in a passionate harmony. You slowly inserted you tounge into her, making you both cry out, the vibrations of your moan going straight to her core making Catra shout and ride you faster.

You brought your free hand to her clit, rubbing it in circles with the pad of your thumb.

"Oh f-fuck! Don't stop, please!" You happily listened to her pleas. "So good, so good! Ah~"

It was a rare and special sight to see the infamous Catra so vulnerable, needy, and desperate. You weren't going to take this trust for granted.

You hummed into her pussy as you relished in the oddly sweet taste of her, and the sounds of wetness that echoed in your ears. You couldn't help but cry, and moan into her, which only brought her closer to the edge.

But it was only when your body was no longer able to keep still did the two of you notice how close you were as well.

Between gasps, Catra said as she tried to sit up, "Here, let me turn around so I can help you~"

You whined in disagreement and pulled her back down, telling her between greedy mouthfuls, "No, too good, I'll wait. Don't move, just-oh fuck- just just come for me, please I need you!"

Though she wanted to, she couldn't muster up the clearlity of thought to argue with you, so she wrapped both her hands in your hair and pulled making you boarderline scream from the pleasure and need that was coarsing through your veins.

But you didn't care, you had tunnel vision, and all you could think of was her pleasure. Catra was all that mattered to you in that moment. She began to clench around you as she quickly began to reach her edge. Both of your cries echoing around the room.

"I fucking love you," you groaned. "I love you so much, and your not gonna cum until you- you- fuck~!" Your back arched your own rope coming to an end. "Tell me you know it, tell me you know I love you."

Catra groaned, lightly upset that you were using her pleasure to trick her into self love. "I know, now don't stop."

You slowed your movements down a little and smacked her ass with your free hand, "You know what, kitty?"

Her body virbated with mewls and moans, "Please, just let me come...go faster, faster!"

You smacked her again, making her moan, "Not until you tell me that you know I love you."

There was a moment where she let out a string of curse words before, "F-fine! You-you love me! I know it- oh gods I know you love me~"

Satisfied you began to go faster again, both of you chasing after her realease. "Good girl, say it again."

"Damn it, just-!" She continued to pant and moan. "I know! I know! You love me! You love me so fucking much, I know you do! I know you do! Now fucking prove it! Prove you love me, now!"

Too overwhelmed to ask for anymore, you moaned as you delved your tounge into her and curled it to reach her g-spot. You rubbed her clit between your thumb, and sucked and lapped up every bit of pre-cum.

That was until she began to let out short loud and silent screams, and her legs began to shake. You opened wide and did you best to take every bit of her cum in your mouth. Though as you felt her clench her legs around your head you couldn't help as your back arched and your own cum squirted on the sheets.

Both you and Catra seemed to callaspe in exhaustion, but you still helped Catra off of you, when she suddenly began to laugh.

"Oh princess, did you cum for me?" Your face flushed a deep red as she continued to laugh. "Aww, I didn't even get to touch you..."

Your core throbbed as you saw Catra retract her claws and slowly drag her fingers up your thighs to your pussy. She watched your eyes roll back as she coated her fingers in your slick and then pull out. She opened and closed them curiously before licking them with a "hmn."

Then she laughed again, "Aww princess, I'm heartbroken, you taste so fucking good, but you only let us focus on me."

"CatRA~!" you moaned as she began to tease your hole and clit with her fingers.

"What?" She asked innocently. "You got what you wanted, now it's my turn."

She continued to finger you gently, knowing you would be pretty sensitive, while you moan out for her helplessly.

It didn't take long for you to get close to a second climax, "Please, kitten, I'm so close~!"

"Awww, you're close, princess~?" She faked sympathy as she laid on her side next to you and whispered hotly into your ear with a proud, mischievous smile, "I love you so much, princess, and you're not gonna cum until you tell me you know it~"