#cold in here / / kool aid

[mostlydeceased]

mhmm. icey ice ice water plzzzzz.

been chugging up my icey water so i stop sipping (chugging) the kool-aid. "why is that girl just drinking the all mixers?" "shush now! i want juice! vodka is meant to be drunk virgin. (without juice or pop)"

[ladykailitha]

Forever Young Part 8

Welcome to the new home of this fic. Every Sunday until it's completed, I will be posting this here.

In this we peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, opinions and all, Wayne making an mistake and having to live with the consequences, and Mike knows more than he's letting on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

~

Wayne gently shook Little Steve’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go find Ed, and get some snacks? You must be hungry.”

Little Steve opened his mouth to protest he wasn’t hungry when his stomach let out a low, menacing growl. Everyone looked at him wide-eyed and he was off that couch and into the kitchen lightning fast.

“Well,” Wayne said dryly, shifting on the couch to get more comfortable, “I think we just solved the mystery of how they’re growing. The same way it is for kids the world over.”

Dustin looked to Will. “You think the memory thing could be connected, too?”

Will opened up the notebook and compared what they knew about the growth spurts and the timeline of them remembering things.

“Yeah, that tracks,” he said with a nod, closing the notebook. “Their memories are tied to them waking up from either naps or overnight.”

“So then what caused Steve to regress?” Dustin said, crossing his arms. “It’s that part that doesn’t make any sense. Because if it was just tied to being sad or upset like Nancy thinks Robin would have regressed when Nancy was going to throw the frog, but she didn’t.”

“We’ll have to watch closer,” Wayne said, “now that we know how they grow maybe we get a better idea of what made Steve shrink on himself.”

The two boys nodded and then got up to go into the kitchen, but Wayne sat there a moment, thinking back on the past couple of days. There was something there, something just out of the corner of his eye, that every time he tried to focus on it it would slip away.

After a few minutes of trying he got up and wandered into the kitchen looking for something a little harder than Kool-aid to calm his nerves. When he walked into the kitchen, he stopped cold. There was a sight he never thought he would ever see.

Mike was helping Little Steve make his sandwich, the younger older boy was spreading the peanut butter and jelly over the beard while Little Steve told him which jelly he wanted. Mike had a small smile on his face as he listened to Little Steve prattle on about something.

Wayne stepped further into the kitchen and he could hear Little Steve going on and on about how Mom was mad that Dad had taken him to see some movie about a boy and his coon hounds because the dogs died at the end, but that she was okay with him watching ‘Bambi’ so it just didn’t make sense why she was soo upset.

“Yeah,” Mike was saying, “they made us read the book in fourth grade. It’s really sad.”

Little Eddie’s eyes went wide. “There’s a book? Man, the book is always sadder then the movie, so the book must have been extra sad!”

Mike chuckled and shook his head. “Both are pretty sad for sure, but I couldn’t tell you which one was sadder though. I think it depends on you.”

Little Nancy was pouting in the corner and Little Jonathan was awkwardly trying to soothe her, but he didn’t know why she was so upset. Wayne huffed. He knew why.

“What’s on the menu today?” he greeted joyfully.

“Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Little Eddie said with a grin. “The owners of this house have six kinds of jelly and three kinds of peanut butter! I didn’t know there was anything besides grape and strawberry jellies and crunchy and smooth peanut butter.”

“Yeah,” Little Robin agreed, wide-eyed. “Honey peanut butter? Who would have though that was a thing at all?”

Wayne smiled at her. “So what are the other kinds of jelly then?”

“There’s marmalade!” Little Steve said with a grin. “That’s orange jelly! It’s my mom’s favorite!”

“There’s plum jam!” Little Jonathan said with an even bigger grin. “Like my mom makes!”

Wayne smiled at that one, because no doubt the jar in Steve’s cupboard was from Joyce.

“There’s raspberry!” Little Robin called out. “That one’s my favorite! It makes my mouth pucker soo good!”

Wayne turned to Little Nancy. “And what’s the final flavor?”

She looked up at him at wide-eyed surprise at being included. “Peach. It smells so good. I think I’m gonna try that one this time!”

Wayne turned to Mike. “You want me to help make some of the other sandwiches to help speed this along?”

Mike looked up at him, blinking, pausing his spreading of the plum jam he was doing for Steve’s sandwiches. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Thanks that would be great.”

Wayne started on Eddie’s because he knew that order like the back on his hand. When he was done he cut it down the middle, just the way Eddie liked them and slid the plate over.

“Who’s next?” he asked looking around at the bright faces beaming up at him.

“I’ve got Nancy’s,” Mike said and she visibly preened.

“I’ve already done me and Jonathan’s,” Will said from beside Mike.

“Right-o,” Wayne said and then turned to Little Robin, “the last the best of all the game...” she giggled. “What do you want on your sandwich?”

“I want to try the marmalade and honey peanut butter please,” she said, blushing brightly.

“One marmalade and honey peanut butter sandwich coming right up!” he said with a grin.

Little Robin giggled again. “You talk like Benny! He’s a short order cook! Or at least that’s what my dad says!”

Wayne grimaced. He didn’t want to tell this child that Benny was no longer around because of the assholes in the government was looking for the other girl who was standing there already having finished her sandwiches long ago, wordlessly watching everything with those all-too-knowing brown eyes of hers.

“Benny is a good man,” El said softly. “He makes the best burgers.”

Little Robin just beamed at her and then took her sandwiches from Wayne and sat down next to El to eat her food.

Then there was a glass of milk floating Little Robin’s direction to her absolute delight. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches always need a glass of milk to go with them.”

Suddenly there were glasses for all four of the other kids. All of them giggling in absolute glee at having their milk handed to them by telekinesis.

After everyone was full and cleaned up, jelly having gone everywhere including their mouths, Wayne sat them down. “We know how you re-age, but unlike what Nancy thinks the de-aging isn’t negative emotions otherwise Robin would have de-aged yesterday with the frog.”

Little Nancy scowled, eyeing Little Robin.

“Hey don’t look at me!” Little Robin shrieked. “It’s not my fault I disproved your little theory. Plus Steve and Jonathan didn’t de-age with their fight this morning. Something I think they have completely gotten away with with no punishment.”

“He started it!” Little Steve cried. “Even if he did remember something bad I did, that gave him no reason to hit me.”

“The reason he wasn’t punished, Robin,” Wayne said sternly, “is because we don’t know what caused the de-aging and it could have affected your behavior as well as your size. We just don’t know enough.”

Little Eddie scoffed. “It’s clearly the stupid wish we made. I don’t know why it worked when none of our other wishes seemed to have come to past, but yeah. Make one stupid wish drunk and boom!” He indicated to his tiny form.

Wayne and Dustin shared a shocked expression.

“Ed, what do you mean?” Wayne asked coming to kneel in front of his nephew.

But Little Eddie’s face screwed up as he tried hard to remember what he was talking about. “It’s gone now. I’m sorry Uncle Wayne.”

“So it is magic!” El said with glee, clapping her hands and jumping up and down. “Just like I thought!”

“Well,” Will said, “I’ll be damned. Good job, El!” He gave her a high five, then went back to the living room and came back with his notebook.

“Let’s write down,” he suggested. “Maybe the others will remember something like it later. We’ll just have to keep an eye on them in the mean time.”

They had Will write it down and then El took the notebook from her brother and wandered off with it.

“I have an idea what could be causing Steve to shrink,” Mike said, watching her go with a shake of his head. “It’s kinda like Nance’s but I don’t want to say anything yet, because I’m not not sure.”

“Well, whenever you feel like sharing with the rest of us, let me know,” Wayne groused. “Because honestly the novelty is wearing thin.” He looked over at the hurt faces of the now eight to ten year-olds. “No offense, but I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Then something strange happened.

All five of the cursed adults shrank before everyone’s eyes. All to varying degrees, Little Steve the worst, and Little Nancy the least but they all shrunk.

“I wonder what the hell that was about?” Wayne growled. He turned to Mike. “You sure it’s not feelings because that looked an awful lot like feelings just now.”

Mike shook his head. “It’s not. But the fact that it’s happened again, means that Steve’s wasn’t just a fluke.”

Dustin smacked his head. “Right. It has to be repeatable and with it just happening with Steve it could have been just him, but now that we’ve seen it happen to all of them, we can test out different theories to find out what makes them want to revert back to children.”

“I don’t wanna be a test subject!” Little Eddie wailed. “You’ll poke needles in me and I hate needles!”

El inserted herself between Dustin and Little Eddie. “We don’t need to do experiments on them. It’s been increasingly clear to me that if we leave them alone, they’ll sort themselves out.”

“But they’re super little again!” Dustin cried. “Yesterday was bad enough and I thought it would be better today with them being older, but now we’ve got them little again.”

“Yes,” El growled. “And if you test out different ideas on what makes them de-age then they’ll get younger than they are now. I’m not sure I want to be dealing with toddlers in the case of Eddie and Steve and infants in the case of the other three, do you?”

Dustin blinked at her for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about that, actually. You make a very good point.”

El stared at him warily for a moment and then nodded curtly. “So we leave them alone until they’re old enough to take care of themselves and can remember enough to do so.” She turned to Wayne. “You do not have to stay. I can call another adult, like Mrs. Henderson or Mrs. Wheeler if necessary. Plus my parents should be home today or tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll be able to assist us.”

Wayne stared at her for a moment and then looked at the boys. They all seemed resolute in watching them. He put up his hands in surrender. “My mistake. I’ll see this through to the end.”

She looked at him for a moment or two and then nodded.

El quietly gathered up the kids and shepherded them outside. “We’ll be playing Red Rover if anyone wishes to join us,” she said icily, over her shoulder.

“I’ll be out in a minute, El,” Will said, “I just need to put my notebook away.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, “I’ll be out soon too. I want to put the food away first.”

“There is no way in hell you’ll catch me playing that game,” Dustin huffed putting his hands on his hips. “My mom would kill me if I broke my teeth after it took so long for them to come in.”

“That is fine, Dusty,” El said sweetly. “I understand, I wouldn’t want to upset Mrs. Henderson.”

And then they were out the front door.

Wayne blinked at the direction they had gone and turned the boys. “Is she always this intense?”

Mike snorted, starting to clean up the mess the kids made with their lunches. “No. Sometimes she’s worse.”

Wayne’s mouth worked around trying to find something to say about that but no words would form, so he settled on a curt nod.

“I’m going to the store to refresh the groceries we used,” he said instead. “Anyone got any requests?”

The three boys clamored to ask for their favorites, but after a moment or two of them talking over each other, Wayne made them write it down.

He got into his truck and let out a sigh. He watched as Mike and Will joined them for Red Rover and let out another sigh. Eddie and Steve seemed to be really enjoying themselves, not a care in the world. He should just let Eddie be a kid for awhile. It wasn’t as though he had a great childhood and getting to play with kids his own age without judging about whether or not his clothes fit.

Hell, two of the other kids came from poor families, too. And it seemed that Nancy and Steve weren’t judging any of them, so...why not just let them play?

He started the truck and drove off down the road, content with that thought for now.

~

Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @niniel-karenine @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@tartarusknight @gloomysoup @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @oopsallgender @fearieshadow @dragonmama76

6- @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars

7- @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gutterflower77 @wheneverfeasible

8- @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss @steddieislife @stripey82

9- @tony-2012 @stedestielfrattficlover @micheledawn1975 @moonshadows-13 @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale

10- @morallyundefined @best-thing-at-this-party @ollieolive @exasperatedsighohmy @watermelonmite

[casuallyanidiot]

The Beta Test | Chapter 3

[yandere M x Gn reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

1.8 k words Tw. Stalking, swearing, confinement, invasion of privacy, yandere Chapter 2 Table of Contents

“ Are you trying to starve yourself?” Javier kicked at the plate halfheartedly. His eyebrows were pushed up into a concerned expression.

 After a few more fucking hours, you had resorted to flopping around your cell in various states of boredom. Currently, your back was against the hard floor while your legs were straight up against the wall. All your limbs had gone numb and you were left feeling like they were made out of some atrocious energy drink that would’ve had a near-illegal amount of caffeine. Of course, you could barely understand what he was saying. It could have been all the blood rushing to your head, but it was probably more that you were literally five seconds away from going rabid with hunger. 

 “ No,” you said simply. It was a struggle to move, but you managed to roll over onto your side.

 “ Then why is all the food still here?” His voice was low and clear. From where you were on the ground, you could see the black leather bag that hung off one of his bony shoulders. It was slid off with a shrug and hit the ground with a threatening thud. You blinked slowly as you pressed your cheek into cold concrete. 

 “ I asked you for a fork but you didn’t give me one,” you answered with a weak shrug. His eyes widened in what you could only describe as a goofy manner as he shot his gaze down to his feet again. He became pretty flustered, shifting from foot to foot and crossing his hands behind his back. 

 “Oh…” He muttered out quietly. He turned away and began to fiddle with his bag, placing it on the table before pulling out various packets and folders. He refused to look at you now. You probably would’ve been more pissed if it weren’t for the fact that you were running on fumes. Not to mention, you were very thirsty and needed to pee. Like a lot. Some rummaging sounds came from him, but you weren’t exactly paying attention anymore. It wasn’t until you heard some faint clinking and his footsteps that you craned your stiff neck to look at what he was doing.

 “ Okay, um, so I’m gonna take you out now,” Javier spoke like he was unsure of himself, and for once you could see why because he was holding in his hands a pair of cuffs. 

 “ Uh what the hell is that,” you croaked out. 

 “ It’s handcuffs haha. You can see that right? Is your vision blurry? Maybe that medicine had a worse effect than I thought…” He was smiling at first, but his face soon morphed into one of worry. He rushed up to the bars and crouched slightly to better see you. 

 “ It was a figure of speech, man,” you lazily waved, and you watched as he slumped in relief. Wait- hold up. The thing about the drugs and all. Did he dope you up without knowing what it would do to you? Yikes, what a shitty thing to do. 

 “ Ah okay. Phew, alright, uh, I’m gonna get you out of here so you can use the um, bathroom and then I’ll get someone to bring you something so you can eat. After that we’ll get started.” he placed a bony, veiny hand over his chest like his heart was about to bust out like the kool aid man. All you could do was glare at him. Though it was hard to not perk up at the mention of another person. With the way he carried himself, it was very easy to forget that this guy was probably really well connected and (allegedly, though now you could say definitely) had a crazy amount of money. Anyways, considering all that stuff, it wasn’t illogical to assume that he had help with this fucked up plot he had hatched on you. 

But it wasn’t really a question if you could find someone else in… wherever you were, but rather if they would actually risk their job security and actually help you out here. 

 “ Uh okay, um, so I’m gonna go in there now. Just, um, stay where you are,” he said and pulled out his phone from his sweatpants. With a couple of harsh taps to the screen, a cool hiss came from one of the walls as a couple of the bars swung open like a little door seamlessly. Your mouth was wide open at this because why the hell would you not be absolutely floored by that amount of ridiculousness this man was subjecting you to. Javier entered your cell like it was the simplest thing in the world, and for once he seemed to actually take in your exaggerated expression. He glanced back at the contraption with confusion, and when he turned back to you, a smug little smile was plastered all over his face.

 “ Oh? This? I actually came up with the release and lock mechanism myself. It was actually pretty easy to figure out haha. Though, I don’t know if you would be able to say the same,” he explained as he stooped down to reach for your wrist. The cold metal bit into your skin as the band was clicked into place. He tugged at it for good measure before letting out a satisfied little huff. He was way too happy for you to feel anything but unease. Honestly, the nerve of him. 

 “ Okay, get up.” The chain from the cuffs was actually pretty long. Not that the fact made your situation any better, but it was kinda interesting. Or at least, it was interesting until Javier stuck the other one onto himself. You slumped your head back dramatically. Of course. Of course he would do that. Why would he not? After all, it was like it was his whole life’s mission to annoy you as much as he possibly could. When you didn’t immediately start pushing off the ground, you were nudged by his foot gently.

 “ Hey… uh come on.”

 “ My legs are asleep,” you explained dryly, not even bothering to look at him more. You weren’t lying. Over the course of the few minutes that he had been milling about in the room, your limbs had grown increasingly heavy and numb.

 “ Oh. Um, that’s alright. I can, I can help you.”

 His very chilly fingers grabbed onto your upper arm before he tried to jerk you up. Your legs came crashing down from the wall, and he seemed to be startled by this because he dropped your limp body back onto the floor. He let out a little gasp and covered his mouth with his hands as you groaned on the floor like a wounded soldier.

 “ What the hell man?” You groaned. You weakly rolled over and started to move your arms in an effort to finally get up. Using the wall as a guide, you managed to stumble up. You did all this with no help from Javier, of course.

" Okay! We're good now!" He said cheerily. You glowered at him a bit, but he didn’t notice and then started to pull you out of your cell. You tripped over your own feet, but the chain kept you moving forward. You stared at his back, shrouded and swamped in his large baggy shirt, and continued to keep your gaze steady when he would glance behind. 

You had met a ton of people over the years, and all of them were different in various ways. You had been acquainted with the most batshit, off the wall individuals in the world, but never had you seen someone so unwilling to actually listen to something else. This man was like a projector, and it seemed that he thought you were a blank canvas. Did he also view the girl he liked like this? Was she just some poor person who made the mistake of listening to his insane ramblings? What would he even ramble on about if he did? 

You blinked in surprise as the main door had been opened. Javier wordlessly led you through into a blank hallway all with other sets of doors. You curiously eyed the electronic pads stationed above the handles. He placed his hand on one, and it hummed before flashing green and beeping. He stepped back as it opened to reveal an all-white bathroom. 

“ Okay, here you go.”

“ Dude I am not going in with you.” Despite the fact that you were deadass tired, you still could muster the energy to wave your arm in a pissed-off manner. Javier just stood there like a deer in headlights. His eyebrows were pinched up in an almost frightened manner. Guess pissing was too far for even him.

So, you ended up doing your business with his back turned to you. As humiliating as it was, there was no denying that you had to go. Shame burned on your cheeks the whole way, and they continued to after you finished up and found yourself back in the room. Now you had been sat at the table directly across from him.  

The chain was laid limply on the flat surface; Your lips were pursed in a flat line as a plate was slid to you along with a pair of chopsticks. You shot him a nasty glare while he fidgeted. You gingerly held up the utensils and poked at the clumps of rice and vegetables. While you wanted to tear in so badly, you feared the large possibility that he had done something funky with it. Though, looking at it again, it wasn’t like you weren’t already deep in this hole, so you might as well chow down while you could. It was assumed that the meal had been brought by some phantom employee while the two of you had been in the restroom.

As you brought the food to your lips ( delicious, by the way. Almost worth getting kidnapped for), a manilla folder appeared right before your eyes. It held an ominous air around it. The bad vibes were so extremely potent that the wonderful bite you were working on turned into a flavorless lump. You swallowed hesitantly.

Javier didn't say anything. He was too wrapped up in fidgeting in his seat. His dark eyes slipped off into random corners of the space. Your brows furrowed as you took in his shifty form. Setting down the chopsticks, you reached for the small stack of papers. The ridges of the information inside pressed against the pad of your finger harshly, and you sucked in an uneasy breath. With a quick flip of the wrist, you were met with a photo of a smiling girl. Your palms instantly became sweaty; you looked up to see the nervous smile spread over his chapped lips. You steadied yourself with a long drawn out sigh as you brought the folder closer.

“ All right… Let’s get started.” 

Tag list <3 @crsdf4everr

[local-new-kid-super]

Little things the Raccoon and Friends Squad do for a New Kid!Reader during and after a battle.

Raccoon:

☆ Shares food with you mid-battle, even his beloved honey-soaked sopapilla. He's pretty selfish on the field (as with everything else), so he doesn't share with anyone else. Expect the rest of the team to get pissy he's not sharing with them.

"Fatass, Captain Diabetes is literally collapsing, give him some fucking food!"

☆ Checks on you first after the battle, trying not to seem like he cares too much, but he's even willing to 'shed' his claws off for a moment because it's next to inpossible to bandage you up with them.

"The fuck?" He snaps, struggling to open up a band-aid pack with his sharp digits. "Fuckin' shitty Terrance and Phillip band-aids, these Canadians don't know anything about battle, New Kid."

Captain Diabetes:

☆ Stays right by your side, often in front of you. Most of his attacks are head-on, and he can take quite a few kid. Sweet Scott is more than willing to take a few hits for one of the few members of the franchise who are kind to him.

"Not to fear, new kid! No hits to tough for the power of diabetes!"

☆ Always asks for you to 'sidekick' for him. He loved being by your side when Cartman first had you partner up with him after joining the franchise. His desire to have a sidekick is a mix of it making him feel like a real, respected member of the franchise, and a slight fear if you hang out with the others, you'll realize he's kinda lame in comparison to guys like Raccoon, or heaven forbid you switch teams and meet Mysterion.

"New Kid, hey! Listen, if Raccoon assigns us partners today, will you be mine? I've even got some super snacks for us to share!"

Human Kite:

☆ Kite's always willing to provide aerial support, or pick you up to help you avoid an enemies attack. This of course pisses of Raccoon, who just gets laughed at when he takes a hit.

"Ey! Kite, you fucking traitor jew, save me! I'm the fucking leader!"

"Shut up, I couldn't lift your fatass if I wanted to! Hop on my back, New Kid."

"Ey!"

☆ He's got a bunch of little home remedies his mom gives him when he goes out to 'play', and even some packed food. After a battle, he's more than happy to plop down on the curb with you and laugh at Cartman crying post-battle.

"My mom made her special stew if you want some, it's cold as balls out here..."

Mosquito:

☆ To be honest, Mosquito can't do a whole lot to help himself, much less you, but he's gonna try and show off, just for you. Whether it means flying in and draining some enemy blood, or even taking a hit to the head because he's too busy flexing his barely visible arm muscles.

"Check it out, New Kid! I'm getting pretty ripped, bzz bzz!" He immediately gets clocked by an enemy, but please don't make fun of him crying 😥

☆ After battle, he's in charge of hydration, so he'll go around and hand out water bottles, and 'blood' for himself, which you've come to realize is kool-aid powder in sprite. He'll give you your water bottle, and hope you won't poke fun at his streaky tear marks and wobbling lip.

"H-heres a bottle, drink up for... for strength, bzz bzzzzzz." He's outright sobbing now.

Fastpass:

☆ Fastpass makes sure to crack extra jokes when you're hanging around, throwing away his respect for comedic timing to slip in a one-liner after every. Single. Hit.

"C-consider t-t-this ass-kicking e-expedited!"

"Did someone o-order t-this fist with s-s-same day delivery?"

☆ Fastpass is pretty much ready to take off after a successful fight, especially if it's the end of his patrol. Hop on his back, and he'll take you somewhere cooler than this storage facility you just whipped Prof. Chaos's ass in.

"L-lets go! I've g-got a coupon for City Wok, and I've got some post fight mu-mu-munchies!"

Super Craig:

☆ He's not really enthusiastic during battle, so if you get injured or knocked out, then he'll step in and fuck up the opposition. Otherwise, he's more than willing to ditch mid-battle and go doing something more interesting.

"This fucking sucks, new kid. Let's go get a slushy."

☆ He knows fighting can be pretty stressful from when he used to battle alongside Tweek, before the whole Freedom Pals incident, so he's happy to take you back to his house to distress with him and Stripe.

"Don't worry, Stripe. Me and the New Kid really showed those assholes not to mess with Raccoon and Friends. Now, give him a carrot new kid, he makes this real funny squeak..."

[ihazyourkitty]

Hogle Zoo is an AZA accredited facility, opening up a new area 3 acre area called "Wild Utah" to feature various native Utah species. 3 of those animals are going to be orphaned cougar cubs that were rescued and unable to survive in the wild on their own.

Note that 2 of these cubs have shortened ears and tails because of frostbite. They were rescued in Nebraska where the weather conditions were severe, and again, these cubs were unequipped to handle it on their own.

This would be a very positive story about giving orphaned cubs a second chance at a good place where they will receive all the care that they need... or so you would think.

Instead, multiple people on the comments were asserting that they were just going to prisons, one even going so far as to say that it would've been better to just let them die.

Wonderful. Nothing says "I love animals" than explicitly saying that they're better off dead than at an accredited zoo. Again, you will note that 2 of the 3 were suffering things like frostbite when they were rescued. There is nothing humane about letting animals that are within your power to help die like that.

I cannot, and will never, understand the "logic" behind this kind of mindset. Yes, baby orphaned animals die in nature all the time. No, we cannot save them all. But for those we can help... why not help them? And why is a life well cared for at an accredited zoo somehow worse for them than suffering a slow and painful death from starvation and exposure?

These animals do not have the same concepts of freedom vs. prison like we do. All they knew was that their mother is gone, and they were cold and starving.

Yes, bad or less than ideal zoos exist. Hogle Zoo is not one of them. Zoos and aquariums are not universally prisons, and if you think that, then let me just ask... what kind of prisons have you been to!? Seriously, all of the animals I've had the privilege to work with eat better than I do, and are treated vastly better than human prisoners are. How privileged must you be to think that all zoos and prisons are equivalent to one another!

Here's the reality: the zoological industry is a complex, nuanced thing that is ever improving and expanding. We're not stuck in the 1970s like you are. Stop judging animal welfare based on vibes, and stop drinking the PETA, HSUS et al. kool aid, because they're lying to you.

[sage-nebula]

I wanted to compile some of the headcanons I have for the adult members of the Rising Volt Tacklers into one place, so here it is, simple and sweet.

Friede:

— He's 33 when the series starts, and was 23 when he met Cap and ended up forming the Rising Volt Tacklers.

— He's claustrophobic, though it's not severe; he can handle being in average sized rooms with the door closed, and in tents. But if it was something the size of, say, a closet, his phobia would be triggered.

— He knows how to, and enjoys playing, the acoustic guitar. It's not uncommon for him to play for the crew at night when they're all relaxing and having a good time, letting the others make up words to whatever random melodies he plays.

— He's a thrill-seeker / adrenaline junkie, naturally drawn to things like skydiving or spelunking in caves specifically noted to be dangerous. However, he toned down this behavior a lot when the kids came on board, since he didn't want to negatively influence them.

— He has a tattoo of the Rising Volt Tacklers' symbol, on his chest above his heart. This is both because he feels that traveling the world on the Brave Asagi is his one true calling in life, and also because he considers the crew to be his family.

— He insisted that Cap be on the title of the Brave Asagi as the primary owner. Cap signed the title with a paw print. Landau is the secondary owner (since it was originally his ship), Orio is third (since she built it), and Friede himself is fourth.

Orio:

— She's 33 when the series starts, and was 23 when she first built the Brave Asagi.

— She can drink every other adult crew member of the Rising Volt Tacklers under the table and has before, on several occasions.

— She has an excellent singing voice, though she doesn't think very much of it. She often sings while she's working on the ship or her other projects, or when Friede is playing his guitar and the rest of the crew is singing along.

— She's decent at styling hair, and helps the crew with haircuts and the like when they're far from any actual salon. When they were kids, she would dye hers and Friede's hair with kool-aid; with Friede's hair being white, they were able to color it any color of the rainbow, and one time tried all the colors of the rainbow at once. Orio's verdict: "He looked like we'd glued a clown wig to his head." She uses box dye to maintain her orange tips nowadays.

— She is the worst when it comes to resting, including and perhaps especially when she is sick. Mollie has had to threaten to strap her to her bed to force her to rest on multiple occasions, and Murdock threatened to drug her soup with drowsiness-inducing cold medication.

Mollie:

— She is 29 when the series starts, and was 20 when she joined the Rising Volt Tacklers.

— She is an excellent, nigh-unbeatable, poker player. Usually the other members of the crew are her victims, but when times have been tight financially and they had difficulty finding legitimate jobs, she has won the money they needed to get by through betting on cards.

— She started studying human medicine after joining the Rising Volt Tacklers, so that she could look after the other members of the crew in case anything happened. (Particularly Friede, given the risks he was prone to taking.) She's not as skilled at human medicine as she is at pokémon medicine, but she works hard to stay on top of her studies of both.

— Orio is the one who pierced her ears, at her request.

— Like Friede, she has genius level intelligence. Unlike Friede, she doesn't know this because she never took any tests to have it confirmed or denied.

Murdock:

— He's 36 when the series starts, and was in his late twenties when he joined the Rising Volt Tacklers.

— He and Blanca were raised by their grandmother, and he learned how to cook from her. He took on more and more of the cooking responsibilities as he got older, both to lift the burden from his grandmother, and also because he legitimately came to love it.

— He has studied dietary science in addition to the culinary arts, and this is something that he and Mollie often nerd out about together.

— While he can and will battle if need-be, he has never cared very much for it, because he doesn't like it when his pokémon get hurt. This is largely the reason why his rockruff is still a rockruff.

— He is very often the first to point out when another member of the crew is pushing themselves too hard. However, he is also prone to pushing himself too hard. He and Orio frequently call each other out on this.

[mosslikeschaos]

I had it under control!

Jason Todd x Male!Oc

not my proudest work, but its a drabble based around other drabbles i have written and/or posted.

no warnings, only a little swearing and a bit of ooc jason [sorry].

~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~

The clouds hung low over gotham as he walked through the fog. His cane clacking softly against the wet cobblestones was drowned out by the normal late-night commotion.

Something smelled vaguely of smoke, but he ignored it, continuing his walk toward the store. His roommate, Lucky, had sent him out for ... he checked his list in the notes app of his phone again. Eggs [cheapest ones], Butter [lightly salted], bread and kool-aid [u choose flav]. Thats what she had told him.

The bell dinged when he opened the door, alerting the girl behind the register. she waved, giving him a friendly smile. He gave her a wave back before grabbing a basket in his free hand and going to the dairy section.

While in the quiet, off-campus shop, the air seemed to change. the smokey smell had gotten stronger despite going inside, and before he was done grabbing the four items, a group of people burst in through the door.

They were yelling at the poor cashier, telling her that if she didnt cooperate she was as good as dead.

He was in Civilian clothing, so he hid. Hid behind the Juice isle to be exact. Honestly there was no energy left in him to deal with these low-lives. If he wasnt already exhausted, having a high pain day, he might've tried to help.

Flinching at the loud sound of the cashier screaming, he realised it was only the two of them in there. A hand grabbed him, throwing him completely off balance. As he gripped the arm now around his throat, the person spoke to his comrades. "Oi! we got another one back here. Feisty."

Everything felt like it was happening at once as he clawed at the arm, struggling to get air as she smell of smoke seemed to only get worse while his path to oxygen was slowly being restricted. Another loud crash could be heard, the girl was sobbing somewhere in the background.

As the world started to wobble, swaying back and forth, something happened. The man holding him let go for a second, giving him the chance to rip the arm away from his throat. His knees his the ground hard as the man let go of him fully, taking a step back.

The air came rushing back, his fingers felt cold. The cashier had stopped crying.

He reached for his cane, trying to quickly get up before the man could grab him again. But something else had caught his attention, Echo didnt care. He jammed the cane down onto thr mans foot, causing the poorly masked criminal to spin back to him and pull his leg up. "Ey! what was that for you fu—" he tried to jump forward but a hand grabbed his face from behind, pulling him down.

Echo took a step back, wincing as a sharp pain erupted from his knee.

The back of the mans head was pulled down onto the new mans knee.

As the criminal tried to get the upper hand, Echo watched, sitting down on the floor.

RedHood had saved him, by the looks of things. The red mask, red jacket, red bat symbol. It was redhood alright.

A heavy punch landed on the criminals jaw and a loud CRACK ! could be heard as the man screamed. He collapsed to the ground and Redhood pushed him away with his boot. The mask turned to him, tipping to the side. "You good?"

It took Echo to realise he was being spoken to, snapping his head up toward the 'hero'. "uh, yeah. i had him on the ropes im fine."

"you're on the floor."

"had a good show," echo shrugged, getting up eith the help on the shelf beside him. Grabbing the basket, he could feel Redhoods eyes in the back of his neck. "wheres the smoke coming from?"

"down the street. batgirl is on it," he muttered. not one for conversation. alright. But he did put his hand out. This confused Echo.

"Huh?"

"Basket, youre already walking with a cane and this dick—" he kicked the knocked out man on the floor again, "—looked like he was gon kill ya."

"im fine, i told you i would've been fine."

The held out hand wore red, fingerless gloves, hid fingers were dirty, calloused. It was expected really.

"fineee," Echo muttered, handing it to the man.

"Redhood,"

The robin seemed to appear out of nowhere, making Echo turn around. He was tiny, rough hair sticking up in every direction.

"yes?"

"what are you doing?"

"Helping, theres a dude in the back there too, hes unconcious for now," Redhood hummed, placing the items on the counter infront of a still shellshocked cashier. She scanned the items, giving Echo another smile. Her usually pristine ponytail was now messy, mascara smudged. Poor girl. She was paid, and Echo headed out. The bag was easier to carry than the basket. A shout cut him off as he was about to close the door behind him.

"Oi, where are you on your way to?"

"Home..??"

"Yeah, but which direction, idiot."

Echo raised a brow at Redhood, "Idiot huh? Towards the university, i live in one of their apartments. why?"

"Dont get caught up by the fire."

"Alright, thanks."

"no problem."

Echo swore he could hear a smile under the mask, maybe he was delusional.

~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆~~☆

Hope you enjoyed ♡

[suzukiblu]

Day fourteen of fic NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon comes back before Tim has finished having his internal crisis and immediately makes it worse, because as it turns out the clothes fit and he looks extremely good in cashmere. 

And extremely good in skinny jeans. 

Oh no, Tim thinks with no small amount of dread. A flash of self-consciousness slips across Kon's face, and then he puts on a confident smirk and strikes one of those stupid teen-magazine poses, which he unfortunately makes look very good despite, again, how stupid it is. 

Tim is so far gone, isn’t he. 

“What do you think, man? Is it my color?” Kon asks, smoothing a broad flat palm down over the chest of his sweater. Tim, very desperately, wants to be the person doing that. 

Jesus Christ, no one should be allowed to look like this in cold blood. Especially not in an outfit thrown together in four minutes and fifty-nine seconds. But of course Kon would, the asshole. 

“We should style your hair differently too,” Tim says, trying not to choke and die on how hot this stupid fucking bastard looks in stupid fucking cashmere.

“Why?” Kon asks, looking puzzled. 

“You'd be amazed how different changing your hair up can make you look,” Tim says. And also he desperately wants Kon to let him change his hair for weird, weird reasons that he doesn't want to examine very closely right now.

Later. He'll examine them later. 

Privately. 

“Uh, okay,” Kon says, and does in fact let Tim dig out his hair gel and a comb and re-style his hair. Tim tries not to obsess over having Kon’s hair in his hands and just slicks it back off his face with a little of the gel because that’s the most efficient option, although then he’s reminded of the Kool-Aid incident and Kon standing in front of him in the base in his soaking wet skin-tight suit and raking his rainbow-dripping hair back out of his bright, bright eyes and–

Later. 

Tim is in so much trouble here, he thinks in resignation, and then wonders both why he decided to re-style Kon’s hair himself and why Kon just let him. Why the hell did either of them let that happen? 

He steps back, trying not to think weird things like how Kon probably would’ve tasted like black cherry Kool-Aid and wondering what he might taste like now, and then a much, much worse thing happens to him, because then he meets Kon’s eyes again and realizes Kon just let him dress and style him. Just–everything but his boots, Tim picked out. Gave to him or did for him. That pettable sweater and the tight, fitted jeans and the slicked-back hair all out of the way of those bright, bright eyes and–

Fuck, Tim thinks with far, far too much feeling. 

“There we go,” he says, then reaches out for the shopping bag in Kon’s hand. “Jacket and glasses in here?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Kon says, blinking at him as he lets him take the bag in apparent bewilderment. It occurs to Tim that Kon has probably literally never had someone else carry something for him unless it was something exceptionally fragile or difficult to operate, but he’s committed now and also it’s not like it’s heavy anyway, so . . . yeah, he’s committed now. 

Anyway, having super-strength doesn’t mean Kon has to carry everything. Especially when the bag barely weighs a thing anyway. Tim can swing around Gotham one-armed while carrying a panicking civilian; a shopping bag with a leather jacket and a couple of accessories in it is not exactly an imposition. 

And, well . . . this is a date, technically. So why wouldn't he carry Kon's bag? 

Aside from the doomed effort that is mapping heteronormativity onto a non-heteronormative situation and possibly making Kon feel emasculated or awkward or potentially coming on too strong and–

Kon reddens, just a little, then grins brightly at him. Tim forgets literally every single thought in his head, which is actually a very impressive feat because Tim is usually thinking several layers of thoughts and they're always annoyingly complicated. This situation is more “head empty, stomach doing quadruple-backflips”, though. 

Kon grinning is bad enough when he's not doing it at him, though. 

Tim should've better prepared himself for this, but in his defense, in what possible world would he have been able to predict this situation? Really? What possible one? 

“Smoothie time?” Kon asks. 

“Smoothie time,” Tim agrees, because anything else would require the capacity to actually think straight and that's going to take a few minutes. 

They head across the courtyard towards the smoothie shop. Tim does not succeed in regaining the capacity to think straight because Kon continues to be wearing clothes he bought for him. Clothes he bought and picked out for him, specifically. 

That is . . . a whole thing, apparently. Apparently that's a thing. Suddenly Tim has to reexamine the way he felt every time he gave Steph a Bat-gadget and wish he'd thought to examine those feelings sooner.

Like much, much sooner. 

Tim orders a basic blackberry smoothie that has maybe four ingredients in it, counting the yogurt and almond milk base. Kon orders some ridiculous flavor monstrosity with basically every tropical fruit on the menu, which is the least Gothamite option he could've gone for but therefore not particularly surprising. There's guava in it. Tim doesn't even know what guava tastes like. He's not even sure he'd know what one looked like, if Poison Ivy wasn't a thing. Like–why would he, after all?

Tim pays, obviously. Kon gets a little bit of an odd look on his face again, but doesn’t say anything about it. Well–he thanks him, but nothing else. Tim considers that a good sign, or at least a good start. 

The smoothies come in clear plastic cups, and Tim's is a uniform purple with darker flecks here and there in it. Kon's, on the other hand, looks like a sunrise with a swirly straw stuck in it, because of course it does. Tim doesn’t know what else he should’ve expected, really. 

“Do you think they could’ve fit a few more islands in there?” he asks wryly. “Maybe a peninsula or two?” 

“I mean, it could use some päpipi, probably,” Kon says before taking a sip. Tim has no idea what that is, but is distracted pretending not to pay attention to his mouth. It probably doesn’t work, but Kon’s not always the most observant guy, so it’s . . . fine, probably? Hopefully? “Wanna try it?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” Tim says, because he cannot possibly handle even the implication of putting his mouth on something Kon has put his mouth on. Like, ever. 

Ever. 

“You sure?” Kon asks, grinning slyly around his straw at him. “It’s pretty tasty.” 

Tim is a very, very weak man. 

“Maybe just a sip,” he says.

[elephantshoetoo]

I tried so hard to get chapter 13 finished for today, but alas, 'tis not meant to be.

(Hopefully it'll be up in the next day or two...)

But anyways,

Happy Byler Day!

💙💛💙💛💙💛💙

So, I decided I'd at least give you a little something...

This is a memory that appears... somewhere, viewed by... people. (Sorry for being vague.)

(At the Wheeler house after school, a young Mike, about five years old, comes bounding into the kitchen, eagerly chatting to his new friend, Will.)

YOUNG MIKE: You're really smart, huh?

(He drops his backpack beside the kitchen table.)

LITTLE WILL: Um… I guess…

YOUNG MIKE: Well, you got all those math answers before I did, and I'm… pretty darn good at math.

LITTLE WILL: Oh. I��

(Will stops, something on the table piquing his interest.)

YOUNG MIKE: Will…?

LITTLE WILL: Wow, you have so many colors!

(He runs over to a repurposed ice cream pail full of crayons and peers inside.)

YOUNG MIKE: Huh? Oh. Yeah… Those're my sister's.

LITTLE WILL: C-can I… Can I try them? (in awe) I've… never seen this many colors.

YOUNG MIKE: Oh. Sure. (He turns and yells up the stairs.) Mommm! Do we have any paper?!

KAREN (yelling back): Yeah, honey. It's in the drawer by the phone!

(Mike pulls out a few sheets and presents them to Will.)

YOUNG MIKE: Here ya go.

LITTLE WILL: Thanks!

(Will takes them to the kitchen table and happily settles in beside the bucket of crayons.)

KAREN (calling downstairs): Does your little friend want something to drink?!

YOUNG MIKE (yelling back): I don't know! (to Will, at a normal volume) D’you want something to drink?

LITTLE WILL: Um… What’ve you got?

YOUNG MIKE: Hmm, let's see… (He opens the fridge and hangs on the door, swinging slightly while he scans its contents.) Uh… Milk. Aaand juice, and… Oh, grape Kool-aid!

(Before Will can answer, Mike pulls out the pitcher of Kool-aid and grabs two glasses from the cupboard.)

LITTLE WILL: Uh. Okay.

(Glancing out the window while he's pouring, Mike notices a sudden change in the weather. He doesn't notice, though, that he's dripping all over the counter.)

YOUNG MIKE: Aw, darn it! It's raining. (Will looks up, a soft smile on his lips. Mike scrunches his face.) That means we can't ride bikes.

LITTLE WILL: Well, that's okay. I like drawing.

YOUNG MIKE (less than enthused): Yeah…

(He brings the full glasses over to the table, spilling a little on the floor. Will studies the Kool-aid, then pulls out a purple crayon to match. Mike plops down in the seat beside him. He sighs in frustration just as Will sighs in contentment.)

LITTLE WILL: I like the rain.

(Mike looks at him and scoffs.)

YOUNG MIKE: Nobody likes the rain.

LITTLE WILL: I do. It's… nice.

YOUNG MIKE (making a face): It's cold and wet and… gloomy.

(Will rubs the purple crayon across his page as he gives the matter some thought.)

LITTLE WILL: It reminds me of you…

YOUNG MIKE: Wh… what? You think I'm cold, wet and gloomy?!

LITTLE WILL: No. I think you're… (He stares at the drawing, searching for the right words. He takes a breath.) It makes me feel… cozy… and… safe.

(Mike blinks at him a few beats. He swallows.)

YOUNG MIKE: Th-the rain does…?

LITTLE WILL (nodding as he draws): Yeah.

YOUNG MIKE: And… (lifting his eyebrows) I'm the rain?

(Will looks up from his drawing, looks at Mike, his large eyes warm and earnest.)

LITTLE WILL: Yeah.

(Mike’s heart flutters. His face erupts in a huge smile, a smile so honored and joyful that Will can't help but smile too.)

YOUNG MIKE: Wow.

LITTLE WILL (with a little shrug): Yeah.

(They chuckle awkwardly for a bit, then Mike looks away and takes a drink. Still smiling, Will goes back to his drawing and Mike goes back to his restless fidgeting. From his seat, he tries to peek over Will's shoulder, curious, but his view is obscured.)

YOUNG MIKE: Can I see your picture?

LITTLE WILL: Uh, okay… sure.

(Grimacing a little, Will leans back. Mike is not prepared for the rustic masterpiece that greets him.)

YOUNG MIKE: Whoa. (He jumps off his chair to get a closer look.) That is… so cool! Is that a wizard?

LITTLE WILL: Um… yeah. Y-you like him?

YOUNG MIKE: He's awesome! How did you do that?!

LITTLE WILL: I, I don't know, I just… did.

YOUNG MIKE: Holy. I can barely draw a stickman… Hm… (Mike twists his lips, an idea forming.) Maybe I could… write a story about him…

LITTLE WILL (nodding, with a smile): Yeah. Okay! That'd be… cool. What should we call him?

YOUNG MIKE: Mmm… (tapping his mouth) How ‘bout… Will.

LITTLE WILL: Will the Wizard?

(Mike contemplates this for a second, then answers decidedly.)

YOUNG MIKE: Will the Wise.

💛💚💙

[slaymbo]

yandere class 1a hcs because im a degenerate (seperate and togetherish)

okay, for a bit of context, the reader has an earthbending quirk where they can bend anything that comes from the earth (obvs) and theyre very talented at it! theyre so good that if theres even a speck of dirt in a glass of water they could bend it (which is why they get mistaken for having a quirk that controls all the elements instead of just earth)

however, a really big drawback is the fact that they have to be barefoot/wear thin shoes to bend properly so they feel more in-tune with the earth and whatnot

another drawback is that they can feel and "hear" a lot of things with their quirk as long as their wearing thin/no shoes, so hearing other people talk while they can feel the earth rumble beneath them is a bit overwhelming, which is why i feel that the reader wouldnt talk as to not overwhelm themselves too much

however, that doesnt stop the chaotic class 1a, because of course it doesnt

when y/n transfers to ua, the class immediately falls in love with them!

their bubbly personality, their kindness, their smile

if the class could make a list about all the things they love about y/n, it would be at least a lightyear long

i feel like tokoyami, darkshadow and the bakusquad would be the most adamant on trying to get them to speak to them

because even though they like it when they pay attention and sign to them, they need to hear their darling speak!!!

it'd be pretty funny if dark shadow scared them to try and get them to make even the tiiiiiniest noise and y/n turns around slowly and stares until he retreats back to tokoyami (he was a bit jealous that he wasnt looked at like that by them, but whatever)

one day, denki walks by y/n's dorm and hears a voice--their voice

his heart starts beating fast bc omg!!!! he finally heard their beautiful voice!!!

y/n, who can literally feel heartbeats thru their feet, opens the door and is in shock (the pun was intended) that denki is just standing there like the lovesick buffoon he is he totally got their voice recorded too

y/n asks if they can see his phone so they can "record" their singing voice

they then proceed to delete the recording

denki is FLOORED, his flabbers are ghasted!!!

uhhh i dont feel like writing more of the story so heres a rapid fire of random ideas

the whole class has definitely pretended to be sick/hurt multiple times so that their sweet darling would "nurse" them back to "health"

one time shoto used his quirk to make his body hot so it would seem like a fever and y/n touched his forehead and said "omg sho, ur so hot!!! :((("

he fainted from that and had to be taken to the nurse for realsies

izuku has broken his bones just so y/n would give him attention

which is, i kid you not, what made them realize they could bend bone

they taught themselves how to mend, break, and move bone to their will and izuku was so proud!!! (btw he totally has multiple notebooks abt them and their quirk)

iida and todoroki have tried multiple times to pay the reader to talk

mina got them to speak by giving them kool-aid jammers and white peaches

there have been so many times y/n has made ochako so happy that she floats

they have to use their quirk to get her downnnn

there was one time the class went to a pool and tsuyu said it was cold :( so y/n literally bent lava ever-so-slightly closer to the surface of the earth to make sure she wasnt as cold

bakugo has yelled at y/n to talk and they've signed "shh, im mewing" so many times

speaking of them signing, during the sports festival i feeel liek they could body shinso so easily

they learned that they could bend bone AND they never talk, so they just bend his ass out of the ring

[backwardshatnick]

𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉

in which chris gets tangled in a cherry red mishap without getting himself wet and stained.

pairing: caterer!stand-up comedian!chris x photographer!social media campaigner!reader wc: 961 notes: this is a reintroduction for caterer!chris & stand-up comedian!chris :) i've decided to combine them both together into 1 character so i just have 1 au to settle with. series masterlist here! and no, i've not the slightest clue on how kool aid tastes like :p [divider credits to: @sister-lucifer]

The chaos, sheer willpower and bottomless mugs of caffeine were the base foundation of Boston’s Spring Ball Committee. Last minute preparations buzzing throughout the veins of every member, but especially in Christopher, a 22 year-old hospitality management student who had signed up to be part of the event’s refreshment unit.

From afar, he could be seen looking dapper and sharp in his light blue suit and pale yellow tie peaking through in between the buttoned lapels, something of high contrast from his daily laid-back look where he frequented caps and beanies, loose Ts and crewnecks and hoodies complete with distressed jeans. With hands balancing trays of pastel cupcakes and freshly baked croissants and a full glass jug of ice cold cherry Kool Aid, Chris attempted to manoeuvre his way through the ballroom, trying his best to dodge not only the rows of pirouetting students, but also other frantic committee members who were also darting through the dance floor trying to accomplish their responsibilities.

“Okay, you got this, Chris. Physics. Core strength. Stability. No sudden moves,” he uttered to himself.

Beside the DJ booth and endless rows of cocktail tables stood a girl in a pastel green dress, the bodice covered with chic beads and embroidery which trailed down to her mid-thigh, adding in to the vintage vibes that she had already established with her pinned-up hair. She was a sharp-eyed, or rather sharp-willed individual, a social media campaigner for the Spring Ball Committee who was determined to capture every glittering angle of the event with the camera that she had slung around her neck.

Except that her eyesight was not exactly reliable.

The 22 year-old media studies major squinted at the crowd, constantly tinkering her slender fingers around the zoom button as a click sound emanated with every shutter. She hated wearing her glasses, the inconvenience that it carried whenever she had to lie down in bed and how it got in the way of her “artistic vision” when things seem to not be how they were when she saw them in their obscure state.

Chris did not notice her standing near the punch table until it was too late.

In a hurried attempt to sidestep a toppled balloon arch, he stumbled, emptying the crystal urn of the red beverage as it splashed directly across the poor girl’s dress. Sure the jug only wobbled from the misfortune, tilted and tipped.

But the sage green shade of the dress had now become a growing blotch of putrid pickle hues. She did not flinch, not at all, but only blinked down at the spreading crimson patch on her belly as gasps echoed around the refreshments area.

“Who the fuck—” she mumbled, spinning in the direction of the commotion, but alas the faces that she were greeted with were nothing short of flesh-coloured blobs. Nonetheless, she continued adjusting her camera, making sure that none of the Kool Aid got caught onto the lens while ignoring the sticky drip crawling towards her cocoa-coloured ballet flats.

The brunette boy froze as he was overcame with guilt. His lips were quivering, mouth and tongue ready to form a string of pardons and confession before he started shrugging off his tuxedo coat to offer it as a makeshift apology. But before he could say a word and even remove both of his arms from his jacket, the girl had already briskly turned, waved him off like a fly as the camera lifted, covering her face as she continued to capture a group of dancers twirling beneath strings of fairy lights, head in the clouds as ears were drowned in the loud bass of Tame Impala’s Breathe Deeper.

The girl was determined and undeterred, distractions a big no-no for this big event and it did not matter if her biological lenses were blurry, it only mattered if her physical lenses were able to snap the moments that would look really good in the university’s weekly paper.

A Kool Aid-stained dress has never stopped me from working, she thought to herself.

Still at the cocktail table, Chris stood there dumbfounded with the light blue tux laying limp in his hand as he inspected through the crowd for the red-stained warrior who continued photographing the night with burning passion.

What neither of them realised was that despite her slightly blurry and camera-focused world, she kept on being drawn back to one figure. He was not a tall man, 6 feet barely there, but lean and slender with biceps hidden beneath his white dress shirt. He appeared to be lost at sea as the ones that he had on his face carried no emotions while he stood there, looking oddly disoriented amid the balloons, garlands, banners and confetti.

Through her lens, he looked… kind of cool. A little awkward? Yes. But it was the charming kind of awkward, as if he had just stepped into a matchmaking session of himself that was done in secrecy. She kept on clicking the shutter button, albeit unable to place a finger onto who he was as she was captivated by how he seemed to be an absolute opposite of the life of a party, just hovering about at the sidelines.

Little did she know that she was mesmerised by the very culprit who had turned her artwork of a dress into a newer abstract art piece, the crimson patches now looking like red comets of bad luck. The artist being the clueless boy who now has been promoted into the oblivious star of her accidental photo series, cheeks flushing a lighter tinge of scarlet, ironically the colour of the spilt drink that bore significance when the clink of pitchers in his hands had led to the click of pictures on her camera.

[otp-after-dark]

Veronica Mars Season 1, Part 1: “Annoy, tiny blonde one. Annoy like the wind!”

I needed a break from the heartache of June and Nick. The longing. The devastation. The nearly but not quite. So I detoured into something that still simmers but doesn’t shred me from the inside out: the early years of Veronica and Logan.

Logan/Veronica (LoVe) is, in many ways, a lighter version of June/Nick—at least at the beginning. The stakes are different, the world less brutal, the trauma more metaphorical than physical. But that push-pull energy? That slow erosion of tension into something raw and real? That’s familiar.

Where Nick and June move in silence and sacrifice, Logan and Veronica spar with sarcasm and suspicion. But underneath both is the same thing: two people shaped by trauma, trying not to need anyone, and failing in real time.

And yes, I’ll never forgive Rob Thomas for how Veronica/Logan ended. That finale lives rent-free in my rage journal. But in these early episodes—before the heartbreak, before the cannonball—they are fire and ice learning to melt.

Here’s hoping June and Nick don’t follow that same path. I can’t take another love story that makes me feel everything and then leaves me bleeding.

In the first ten episodes of Veronica Mars Season 1, Logan and Veronica are anything but a couple—but the groundwork is there. What starts as animosity slowly shifts into something watchable, layered, and hinting at emotional depth beneath Logan’s golden-boy-gone-wrong persona.

The Setup: Past Pain and Present Tension

Logan Echolls enters as the quintessential high school villain: cocky, cruel, entitled, and perpetually flanked by a posse. He’s a sharp contrast to Veronica’s isolated, toughened demeanor, hardened by trauma and betrayal. Their tension is rooted in personal history—Veronica was once part of his friend group, dating Duncan, and friendly with Lilly Kane (Logan’s girlfriend before her murder). Now, she’s persona non grata, and Logan delights in antagonizing her.

Power starts skewed—Logan is popular, Veronica is exiled. But as the season progresses, Veronica becomes the one in control. Logan is slowly revealed to be less powerful emotionally. She sees through him. He lets her. It equalizes them.

Episodes 1–4 lean hard into this antagonism. Logan bullies, taunts, and plays pranks. Veronica returns the fire with deadpan barbs. But this is classic teen noir slow burn: every insult is a spark. The energy is too charged to ignore.

These are trauma kids with sunny-day scars. Logan hides his abuse under arrogance and cruelty. Veronica masks her trust issues with snark and sarcasm. Their wounds are emotional, domestic—but no less scarring. They don’t trust anyone, so when they start to trust each other, it changes everything.

Cracks in the Armor: Glimpses of a Softer Logan

Logan starts showing signs of complexity. When his girlfriend Caitlin is caught cheating (with Weevil, no less), his bravado falters for a moment. It’s quick, but you see it: humiliation and pain tucked beneath a sarcastic grin.

They continue building Logan’s backstory in fragments. His troubled home life gets teased—mention of a controlling dad, and his increasing use of alcohol to cope.

Emotional Undercurrents Start to Surface

By the time we hit Episode 9 (“Drinking the Kool-Aid”) and Episode 10 (“An Echolls Family Christmas”), the tone begins to shift. Veronica and Logan aren’t friends—yet. But their interactions soften ever so slightly. He’s not just a tormentor anymore. There’s nuance.

In Episode 10, we get one of the earliest “LoVe-coded” moments: Veronica helps recover poker money after a high-stakes game goes sideways. She enters his home, sees the glamorous but cold lifestyle. This episode deepens Logan’s character—he’s smart, strategic, and emotionally battered by his dysfunctional celebrity family.

Veronica is sharp with him but also curious. She doesn't trust him—but she sees more than she used to. There’s an echo of mutual understanding in the way she observes him now. Not pity, but recognition.

Trust comes slowly, with teeth. At first, it’s the absence of hostility. Then it’s Logan asking her to help him solve a mystery in his world. Then it’s Veronica noticing that his cruelty masks something broken. Each small step chips away at the wall.

Hate as a Prelude to Heat

What makes LoVe compelling is the emotional realism beneath the banter. The show resists the temptation to jump into romance too fast. Instead, it lets Logan stay messy—violent, charming, deeply hurting—and lets Veronica rebuild her trust meter one beat at a time.

These two talk a lot. Every line is a landmine. Their banter is acidic, clever, often mean—but underneath it is curiosity. It’s their way of touching each other without touching. Every insult is a challenge: see me, understand me, don't leave me.

The first ten episodes are doing the work. They’re laying the rails for a romance that makes sense for two trauma-scarred teenagers who speak in sarcasm but ache for connection.

Logan: “Veronica Mars, poker detective. What’s next? Veronica Mars, street magician?” Veronica: “Don’t worry, I won’t pull a quarter from behind your ear. You might short-circuit.” LoVe Vibe: This is the moment. Real banter. Equal footing. Logan involves her in his life. She steps in, solves the mystery, and he lets her.

Their chemistry is friction. It sparks in the insults, in the stares, in the shifts from rage to intrigue. By Episode 10, the air between them is heavy with “almost.”

They’re not there yet—but the fire is flickering. The verbal jabs are no longer venomous, they’re flirtation in disguise. And with Logan's personal cracks starting to show, Veronica’s hard edges begin to soften. The tension isn’t just conflict—it's chemistry biding its time.

[ladykailitha]

Kid fic, please!

WIP Wednesday! Make me write!

Other asks here, here.

The movie in question was "Where the Red Fern Grows" a book that caused young Lady Kailitha psychic damage when she was in the fourth grade when she was forced to read it in English.

Snippet

The two boys nodded and then got up to go into the kitchen, but Wayne sat there a moment, thinking back on the past couple of days. There was something there, something just out of the corner of his eye, that every time he tried to focus on it it would slip away.

After a few minutes of trying he got up and wandered into the kitchen looking for something a little harder than Kool-aid to calm his nerves. When he walked into the kitchen, he stopped cold. There was a sight he never thought he would ever see.

Mike was helping Little Steve make his sandwich, the younger older boy was spreading the peanut butter and jelly over the beard while Little Steve told him which jelly he wanted. Mike had a small smile on his face as he listened to Little Steve prattle on about something.

Wayne stepped further into the kitchen and he could hear Little Steve going on and on about how Mom was mad that Dad had taken him to see some movie about a boy and his coon hounds because the dogs died at the end, but that she was okay with him watching ‘Bambi’ so it just didn’t make sense why she was soo upset.

[spookypete-94]

Strange Christmas Tradition

might seem a little early but was in stitches thinking about this

re-add! i was dumb and accidentally deleted my first edition!

Ghost groaned behind you, "What are we doin' here?" His feet dragged, kicking the soles against the ground.

"You'll see," you said, moving faster staying ahead of him. Ghost might say you're moving quicker then when you clear a building... a thought he would bring up later.

How happy you were when you found a local store from your area that had something meaningful to you. Deciding post mission that you were going to go visit stores while you waited for your flight tomorrow. Even more excited that Ghost decided to tag along. If Ghost were to explain himself honestly, he didn't want to go shopping necesarily, he just didn't want you out by yourself... and maybe wanted to spend some quality time with you. However, your current store of choice makes him rethink his life's choices at the moment.

You had walked into a crafting/hobby/nick nack store that was known for crazy Christmas ornaments.

"You're gonna love it Lieutenant."

"Yeah? Think yer' gonna be disappointed..." His tone flat and unamused.

"Oh quit your grumbling, nearly there," you said, turning into an aisle.

Almost skipping now, he saw what you were looking for. There were ornaments up and down the entire aisle.

"Wha' on God's green acres are we doin' here?" his tone flat and even - still unamused.

"My brother and I have this competition for Christmas to find the most fucked up ornament for the tree each year. I generally have to ship mine back home, but should be back in time this year."

"Your brother?" He asked, the first interest he had shown all day.

"Older. Tradition, we started to help us like Christmas again now that we're adults."

He was learning so much about you.

"How 'bout this one?" You asked, picking up a starfish dipped in chocolate, starting to laugh.

"Could go with this one." Handing you one that was of the Kool-Aid man when the button was pressed yelled OH YEAH! You both started to snicker harder.

"Oh, oh, here we go," you said selecting a sparkly deviled egg.

"Awh, come on, can do bet'er then that." His hand reaching right past your head leaning over you as he selected one up high to show you. Did he always smell this nice? It was a Turkey in a Christmas hat wearing pilgrims for slippers.

"Oh my GAWD, it's perfect, but I want to keep looking." So you both did, laughing hysterically. If anyone were to walk by, you both looked like deranged idiots. Tears were pricking your eyes so hard. You had to place a hand on Ghost's chest. you didn't even realize that you had, but Ghost noticed. Breathing hitched heart stopping at your laughter, how your smile stretched from ear to ear. Never in a million years did Ghost think one of his favorite core memories would be Christmas ornament shopping with you.

"I'm so fucking happy you came, are you still disappointed?"

"Not even close."

This made your heart soar to hear, glad that you changed his mind.

"Think I'm gonna get the ones we picked up. They are all to good to pass up."

The walk to the register was quiet, and once paid and out of the store, you broke the awkward silence.

"Do you have plans for Christmas, Ghost?"

"No." His tone direct and firm telling you that he didn't want to talk about this topic. Even with his short answer, you could see his hot breath turn to steam in the cold mid-November air.

Turning to look up at his Umber pools, you handed him a small bag.

"You wanna come with me to mine? Put your ornament on our fucked up tree?"

He took the bag slipping out the ornament you had picked for him. One that he missed, apparently, was a ghost figure wrapped in Christmas lights. He flipped the switch, lighting it up... how delightfully tacky.

"Ya' want me there?"

"Of course," you answered, heart breaking slightly at his question.

"Wanna see this tree, see if it's strange as you."

"So that's a yes then?"

" 'is a yes."

Unable to control yourself, you stepped forward, hugging him. You were pushing your luck today, but strangely, he was alright with it.

"Think I'm strange then?" You asked, feigning hurt.

"I do. But I like it."

His words and embrace back warmed you in the frigid air.

[noobiestnoober]

The Cost of a Prank (Damon x Reader)

This a one-shot fanfic between Damon and Y/N where Damon develops a close bond with Y/N after discovering that Katherine has deceived Damon all along. Enjoy the story <3

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In the dimly lit parlor of the Salvatore Boarding House, Damon Salvatore lounged on the vintage leather sofa, a smirk playing on his lips as he swirled a glass of bourbon. The flickering flames of the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the room, adding to the air of mystery and tension.

Across from him stood Y/N, her expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement. They had been sparring verbally for the better part of an hour, and the banter was starting to wear on her patience.

“You’d be a fool to say no,” Damon said, his voice dripping with a mix of arrogance and persuasion.

Y/N rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips, “I’d be a bigger fool to listen to you,” she retorted, shaking her head

Damon chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine, “Oh, come on. When have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?” Y/N shot back, unable to keep a grin from tugging at her lips.

“Very funny,” Damon said, raising an eyebrow, “I’m offering you a chance to pull the greatest prank Mystic Falls has ever seen. We could turn the town’s water supply into Kool-Aid for a day. Imagine the looks on their faces!”

Y/N’s expression softened slightly, her brow furrowing in thought, “And in the process, become the town’s most wanted pranksters? No, Damon. I won’t sacrifice my clean record for a laugh.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed, the playful glint replaced by a cold intensity, “A clean record is overrated. We’re here to have fun, to shake things up. It’s time you embraced your mischievous side.”

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of his words but unwilling to give in. “I won’t do it, Damon. There has to be another way to have fun.”

Damon sighed, taking a long sip of his bourbon, “Suit yourself. But remember, when the town discovers their morning coffee is bright red—and they will—you’ll wish you had been part of it.”

With that, Damon rose from the sofa and strode toward the door, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts. The crackling fire seemed to echo the turmoil in her mind, a constant reminder of the ever-present battle between caution and spontaneity.

“Why do you always have to be so infuriating?” Y/N called after him, frustration clear in her voice.

Damon paused at the door, a smirk playing on his lips, “It’s part of my charm, sweetheart.”

As the door clicked shut behind Damon, Y/N felt a pang of regret. But she knew in her heart that she had made the right choice. She wouldn’t let Damon’s antics drag her into trouble. Not again. Not ever.

_______________________________________________________

Days later, Damon found himself reeling from a devastating revelation. Katherine, the woman he had loved for centuries, had deceived him. She had never been trapped in the vampire tomb as he had believed. She had been free all along, playing with his emotions from the shadows. The heartbreak hit him harder than he ever expected, and he retreated to the solitude of his room, drowning his sorrows in bourbon.

Y/N, sensing his despair, stepped in to take care of him. She brought him meals, sat with him through his darkest hours, and listened as he poured out his anguish. Her presence was a balm to his wounded heart, and in those moments, Damon began to see her in a new light. She was kind, compassionate, and fiercely loyal—qualities he had longed for but never found in Katherine.

Despite the growing feelings he had for Y/N, Damon knew he was a bad influence on her. His life was filled with chaos and darkness, and he didn’t want to drag her into it. One evening, as she sat beside him, gently coaxing him to eat, he decided.

“You know,” he said, forcing a smile, “I think it’s time I pulled that prank we talked about. Mystic Falls could use a little excitement.”

Y/N looked at him, concern etched on her face, “Damon, are you sure that’s what you need right now?”

He nodded, though his heart was breaking at the thought of leaving her, “Yeah, I need a distraction. And I think it’s best for everyone if I step away for a bit.”

She didn’t argue, sensing there was more behind his words. She simply nodded, her eyes betraying the sadness she felt, “Just... come back in one piece, okay?”

Damon leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “I’ll do my best, sweetheart.”

________________________________________________________

As the night fell, Damon left Mystic Falls without telling anyone. He knew Y/N would be safe without him, and that thought gave him a sliver of peace. As he drove away, he couldn’t help but look back one last time, the image of Y/N etched in his mind.

“Stay safe, Y/N,” he whispered into the night, knowing he was leaving behind the one thing he had been searching for all his life. But he also knew that sometimes, the best way to protect someone was to let them go.