#you can get a fro-yo together

[flannelepicurean]

this makes me think about goku and vegeta tryna be boyfies and just both turning BRIGHT RED and repelling each other like matched-pole magnets if they tried to walk down the damn street next to each other like "FFS KAKAROT STOP, I CAN HEAR YOU LOOKING AT ME WITH YOUR EYES, COVER THEM UP SLUT, WHERE ARE THOSE STUPID SUNGLASSES UR ALWAYS i can't i can't i just cannot with you" vs "OMG VA-GEE-JAY DID U TRY TO HOLD MY HAND, I SAW YOUR ELBOW TWITCH, HOLY SHIT, U MAY BE A LADY IN THE SHEETS BUT UR A FREAK IN THE STREETS, GTFO i love u" and then they just magically wind up on opposite sides of the street, scurrying down the sidewalk, trying not to have twin heart attacks.

because they are in love. and awkward idiots about it. and i love them.

The fact that it’s canon that Goku gets embarrassed by PDA is so fucking cute and we don’t talk about it enough

[invisibleraven]

Colors bloom from where they touch you the first time for Carrie/Reggie please and thank you

Carrie fixes her expression before turning to the empty auditorium, then lets the music wash over her. Practiced moves come to her easily, the song ringing out, no need to look at the lyrics. But she still felt there was something missing-and she needed this audition to be prefect. Her future at Julliard depended on it.

She restarted the music, pushing herself further and harder-determined to ensure perfection. Then again, and again.

Upon the end of her fourth try, she gulped down half her tumbler of water, feeling the burn in her lungs, her muscles quivering. But she felt happier with her performance, ready to wow those judges from the most prestige performing arts school there was.

But it wouldn't hurt to try it one more time right?

However, the exertion, coupled with the fact that she hadn't eaten all day, and the bright stage lights made her eyes swim, her legs wobble, and soon found herself falling towards the ground.

Only instead of hitting her head on the unforgiving floor, she found herself being held by a pair of strong arms, looking up into startling green eyes.

"Hi there," he said. "Glad to break your fall there doll."

"Thanks for the assist," Carrie replied, holding onto his shoulders, his skin warm beneath her hands, the heat bleeding from under his tank top.

He grinned, helping the two of them stand upright, though neither of them were in a rush to let go.

Finally he uncurled his arm from around her, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "You gonna be okay? Need a juice box or something?"

"Maybe to sit down?" Carrie requested, and he brought her over to a chair, handing her the water bottle. "Thanks again. I'm Carrie by the way."

"Reggie," he replied. "All in a day's work."

"Do you often save damsels in distress?" Carrie giggled.

Reggie shrugged but kept grinning. "When the opportunity arises."

Carrie gulped down more water, feeling her cheeks heat. She looked Reggie over, admiring his lithe but fit form. How he was copying her blush, right down to his collar bones.

Only the place where her hands had lain were a brighter pink-a hot pink that matched the colour of her Dirty Candi gear perfectly. Had that been there before?

"Your shoulders..." she said, pointing to them.

He smirked, a flirty little quip on the tip of his tongue ready and waiting. But then he glanced down and froze. "What.The.Fuck."

He then looked at her-"Do you have it anywhere?"

Carrie wasn't sure, so she stood up, inspecting any showing skin, seeing nothing, but then turned around to peek under her crop top when Reggie gasped. "What is it?"

"Your back has a deep red streak over it-just where my arm was when I caught you," he all by squeaked out.

Carrie turned, "And those marks"-she pointed to the pink spots on his shoulders-"are where I first touched you."

"What do you think it means?" Reggie asked.

"No clue, I've never heard of this happening to anyone else. It doesn't hurt, and it's easy enough to cover. Does it have to mean anything?"

Reggie worried his bottom lip, but then shook his head. "No, I suppose it doesn't."

Carrie nodded, but even though she suggested it, she felt hollow for the tense look painting Reggie's face. Maybe the marks didn't have to mean anything, but she didn't want to let this guy go just yet.

"Hey, do you have one more gallant deed in you?"

He lit up at that. "I surely do."

"Could you walk me to my car? And maybe we could stop by the food truck nearby and I'll get you something as a thank you."

"How about we put my bike in your car and we eat at your place?" Reggie asked with an eyebrow waggle. "Just in case you feel faint again."

Carrie had to admit-this guy was boldly smooth, and she appreciated that. "Only if we can stop and get some frozen yogurt on the way home."

"I suppose we can make that small detour, but I'm paying for the fro-yo."

Carrie smirked at that, linking their arms together, and preened inwardly when Reggie grabbed her stuff. "We'll see about that."

Reggie smiled back, hoisting her bag higher up so she couldn't take it back, obscuring one of her marks, which made her the tiniest bit sad. But Reggie's sunshiny smile made her storm clouds vanish in an instant. "I guess we will."

[goldendoodlerlockerlove]

Also, also, Jimmy Jr

Woohoo!! The only boy ever, the dancing queen himself, Jimmy Jr. I'm lowkey sweating a bit because I want to do your favorite boy justice.

First impression: I was very normal about Jimmy Jr. at first (please don't come for me--) I just didn't have a very strong opinion about him. I thought he was funny, and a decent love interest for Tina, but I didn't think much of him. I did think the whole Romeo & Juliet thing he had going on with Tina was pretty great, but other than that, I was pretty normal about him.

Impression now: I hope you know you've made me appreciate him so much more, and now I find myself randomly thinking about him. I think he's an interesting character to analyze, especially when it comes to his daddy issues with Jimmy Pesto Sr., And analyzing how he expresses himself through dance is really fun. He's quite a relatable character. You've given me brainrot, DT, I hope you're happy, pffffffft.

Favorite moment: One of my absolute favorite quotes in the entire show actually is "DON'T TELL ME NOT TO DANCE, DAD!! 😤" I kid you not, it makes me wheeze every time. And the moment when he takes Tina out on a date to Fro-Yo Mama in What A (April Fool) Believes is so sweet (awesome frozen yogurt shop name, by the way).

Idea for a story: Ooooooh, maybe a story that delves deep into his daddy issues with Jimmy Pesto Sr. would be great. Or one that delves deep into his relationship with his mom, because we haven't seen her yet. Though, I would also love to see something centered around his relationship with Andy and Ollie. We need more Pesto Brothers lore!!

Unpopular opinion: Oh my god, what are some people's problems with Jimmy Jr.?? Why can't we all just get along and appreciate his weird, wonderful dancing?? I swear, every time he appears, it stirs up some sort of controversy within the community, and frankly, I'm so tired of it. He's a great character, and I will not hear otherwise. He's thirteen and doesn't treat her that much badly than Zeke. I said it!!

Favorite relationship: I love his relationship with Zeke, it's hilarious. I still keep thinking about when he wanted to catch a chicken nugget in his mouth in the movie and Zeke was helping him. That was great. However, I do love analyzing his relationship with Tina. The two of them are so fun and chaotic together. I will say, @babsvibes said it best, but one of my favorite aspects about their relationship, whether romantic or platonic, is that Jimmy Jr. loves it when Tina is mean, and she can get mean. Their stupid competition on who can run the fastest during The Gene Mile?? I love it. And it goes to show that Tina can be just as mean to J Ju as he can be to her. It's mutual 😌

Favorite headcanon: Jimmy Jr. is a redhead and I will not hear otherwise. DT, ever since you began drawing him with red hair, I've been so obsessed. Now every time I've drawn him (which honestly hasn't been enough, I want to draw him again) I always make him a redhead. It just works so well!! I like to think him and Andy and Ollie all got their hair from their mom. I'm really glad that he didn't inherit Jimmy Pesto Sr.'s butt chin--

[mik-mania]

The Terror of the Twenty-Seven Seas

Part 2: Sentire

(Content warning: drowning, gore)

Part 1 // Google Docs

When you open your eyes, the harsh glare of the morning sun assaults your vision, forcing you to shield your eyes with a groan. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you slowly acclimate to the blinding brightness, each blink accompanied by a fleeting sensation of disorientation, the world around you coming into focus like a hazy dream.

Gradually, the gritty texture of stone pressing against your skin

registers, and you realize you’re sprawled out on a weathered stone bench. The coolness of the stone provides a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of the sun beating down on your exposed skin. With aching muscles, you muster the strength to sit up, the stiffness of your joints a testament to the deep slumber that must have enveloped you.

Despite the sun's warmth, an inexplicable chill lingers at the back of your throat. The scent of salt and sea spray fills your nostrils, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles through the nearby palm trees. You inhale the strangely dry air, savoring the briny aroma.

Around you, the seaport bustles with the frenetic energy of a

typical summer morning. The air is alive with the raucous calls of seabirds, their cries mingling with the distant clang of shipyard bells. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the jetty provides a backdrop of white noise. Trolls bustle to and fro, their voices rising and falling in animated dialogue as they go about their daily tasks. 

Amid the lively crowd, a familiar voice pierces through the clamor, drawing your attention like a beacon on the chaos.

“Yo, Appy!”

The call is unmistakable, and you turn to see the source—a young, scrappy-looking troll dressed in what may as well be rags waving at you with one arm, the other clutching a large rucksack slung over his shoulder. His clothes, a patchwork of fabrics stitched together with care, tell a story of resourcefulness and resilience. Worn-out and oversized boots against the cobblestone path as he moves with a confident swagger, every step a testament to his familiarity with the active port.

You catch glimpses of the countless adventures etched into his weather-beaten face with each movement. As he approaches, you can’t help but notice how his tousled hair frames his cheeks, a wild mane of unruly strands that adds to his rugged charm. His skin, freckled by the sun, bears the marks of a life lived on the world's edge, where every day brings new challenges and untold dangers. But it’s his eyes that draw you in—bright, lively blue orbs that seem to sparkle with a mischievous glint.

Your name is Aipalo Lovikk, and you are one of the many ship’s boys for the Tempest’s Fall. The realization floods back with startling clarity. How could you have forgotten?

The other troll draws nearer with an air of excitement, his grin widening as he revels in your momentary disorientation.

“Did ya sleep good?” he teases, his tone playful and infectious. Despite the haziness of your thoughts, a smile grows on your face, mirroring his own.

“Shut up. Did you get—” You hesitate, the memory of your task momentarily escaping you.

“Yep,” he answers without missing a beat, his confidence unwavering. “Got it all myself while you were lazin’ about on the bench.”

Before you can compose an answer, the other troll speaks again: "Race you to the ship!"

With a playful glance in your direction, he turns and bolts back towards the ship, his movements fluid and purposeful. Panic surges within you as you realize you’re in danger of losing sight of him amidst the sea of bodies. With a determined grit, you stumble off the bench and race after him, the coarse surface scraping against your skin as you push forward.

The maze of trolls grows denser as you navigate the chaotic port, their figures towering over you as you struggle to keep pace with your fleet-footed shipmate. You bump and weave through the crowd, each collision threatening to knock you off course. But you refuse to let yourself falter, driven by a fierce fortitude to keep your shipmate in sight.

He had always been a faster runner than you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of frantic pursuit, you manage to catch up, your chest heaving as you double over to catch your breath. Your companion smirks at your panting form, seemingly unfazed by the exertion of the chase. Inhaling deeply, you straighten up and puff out your chest, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. But your efforts are in vain as the other notices the tremor in your breath and the exhaustion etched on your face. With a hearty laugh, he slaps you on the back, his infectious energy pulsing through the air.

“Come on,” he urges, his voice filled with an undeniable sense of camaraderie. And with his reassuring presence by your side, you gather your strength and follow him.

As you follow your companion towards the Tempest’s Fall, the enormity of the vessel looms before you like a behemoth of the sea, its sturdy frame a testament to its seafaring prowess. Crew members scurry like ants, their movements purposeful and efficient as they load and unload cargo with practiced precision. Despite the chaos of activity, there is an unmistakable sense of solidarity among the sailors, a bond forged through shared experiences on the open sea.

With your companion leading the way, you climb the gangplank. His steps are sure and steady as he guides you, the wooden planks creaking beneath your feet as you ascend. The other sailors pay you no mind, their attention focused solely on their tasks, leaving you to navigate through the tangle of bodies. At times, you find yourself having to dodge and weave between the larger sailors, their imposing figures threatening to edge you off the side.

Once aboard the ship, the chaos of the port seems to melt away, replaced by the rhythmic pulse of life at sea. The air is alive with the sound of chatter and hollers, the clatter of bootsteps echoing across the wooden deck. You find yourself grabbing the back of your companion’s shirt, the throng of seamen swirling around you like a maelstrom and threatening to pull you under with each passing movement.

As the two of you make your way towards the heart of the ship, the harried atmosphere only intensifies. Eventually, you find yourselves within the ship’s interior, where the salty tang of sea air mingles with the tantalizing aroma of cooking meat. The ship’s cook bustles about the galley, orchestrating a symphony of culinary delights in preparation for the upcoming meal. The promise of a special feast, courtesy of the port’s bountiful offerings, hangs in the air, infusing the atmosphere with anticipation.

Your companion engages in a brief exchange with the cook. Then, with one swift movement, he transfers the rucksack into your arms, the weight catching you off guard. You stagger under the burden, struggling to maintain your balance as you adjust to the added load.

“It’s your turn to carry this stuff,” the other troll declares, his tone firm and authoritative. He flexes his overworked shoulder with a practiced motion, a playful glint in his eye. “Chef says to take it to the storerooms.”

You hesitate momentarily, a pang of uncertainty creeping into your mind. “Aren’t you coming with me?” you ask, a hint of insecurity coloring your tone.

The other troll chuckles, his grin widening mischievously. “You really need a second person to help you with that?” Despite his teasing words, a warmth in his gaze reassures you.

As you stand there, feeling the weight of the supplies in your arms, you can’t help but feel strangely comforted by the presence of your shipmate. There’s something about him that makes you feel at ease, as though you’ve known him for far longer than you actually have. It’s a curious sensation, one that you can’t quite explain, but you find yourself drawn to him and his twinkling blue eyes all the same.

With a sense of determination, you fall into step beside him as he leads the way down towards the store rooms. The darkness of the lower deck seems to close in around you, the dim light casting eerie shadows that dance across the wooden walls as the vessel sways back and forth. The creaking of the ship’s timbers echo through the narrow passageways, a reminder of the ship’s age. The fins on either side of your head press down against your cheeks, and you walk closer to your companion.

You try to shake off the unease that creeps over you by focusing on the task at hand. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself, though, the sense of foreboding still lingers, a nagging presence at the back of your mind. It’s as if the ship itself is trying to warn you of some impending danger, but the message remains elusive, just out of reach.

The two of you enter the appropriate storeroom for the supplies you carry. It’s a cramped space, filled to the brim with crates and barrels, the air heavy with the scent of salt and damp wood. Were the two of you fully grown, you would have never fit inside. As you work together to unpack the supplies and stow them in their proper places, you distract yourself from your nerves by stealing glances at your shipmate, studying his features in the dim light. His face is illuminated by the soft glow of the lanterns, casting flickering shadows across his face.

You realize suddenly that you don’t even know his name, a fact that strikes you odd, considering how comfortable you feel in his presence. The realization weighs heavily on your mind, gnawing at your thoughts like a persistent itch you can’t scratch. Finally, unable to ignore it any longer, you gather the courage to speak up.

“Hey,” you begin tentatively, breaking the silence that hangs between you. “I just realized, I don’t think I caught your name earlier.”

He pauses in his work, turning to look at you with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Forgot already, huh?”

His response catches you off guard, and your face flushes with embarrassment. You try to recall if you indeed had forgotten his name, but your memory feels like a jumbled mess, the details slipping through your grasp like grains of sand. A surge of panic threatens to overwhelm you as you struggle to piece together the fragments of your memory.

An alarming sense of disorientation washes over you like the ground shifting beneath your feet. For a moment, it feels as though you’re teetering over the edge of a precipice, on the brink of being consumed by the void. A presence at the back of your mind pulses darkly, its ominous whispers echoing through the recesses of your consciousness, and, just for a moment, you’re terrified that you’ll be swept from this reality.

All at once, the feeling passes, perplexed and shaken. You blink rapidly, trying to dispel the lingering sense of unease that clings to you like a shadow. Pushing aside your fear, you force yourself to focus on the task, immersing yourself in the mundane routine of shelving supplies. The rhythmic clatter of items being placed on shelves, punctuated by the occasional rustle of fabric and the soft shuffle of footsteps, eases your nerves.

Finally, you pause, unable to shake the nagging feeling of uncertainty that tugs at the edges of your consciousness. “Have I already asked for your name?” you venture, avoiding his gaze.

A laugh suddenly erupts from the other troll, surprising you into meeting his gaze. His eyes twinkle with amusement, and you find yourself drawn to the warmth of his expression. Despite your earlier apprehension, a reassuring sincerity in his laughter puts you at ease.

“Yeah, but I guess you napped so hard earlier you musta forgot.” He extends his calloused hand for a handshake. You match the gesture, noting how much warmer his rough palm is than yours. “The name’s ░░░░░░, nice to meet’cha.”

As he introduces himself, a wave of dizziness washes over you, causing the world to tilt and spin. You struggle to maintain your composure, your senses reeling from the sudden onslaught of disorientation. The edges of your vision blur and that striking terror is back all at once, and tendrils of darkness swim in the corners of your vision.

“Are you alright, Aipalo?” His voice cuts through the haze, concern evident in his tone. He reaches out a hand to steady you, his touch grounding you in reality.

You nod weakly, trying to push aside the unsettling sensation that grips your mind. “Say your name again?”

His lips move again, forming words that you struggle to comprehend. Your ears buzz with static, the sound drowning out his voice as if muffled by a thick fog. You strain to make sense of his words, but they slip away like elusive whispers in the wind.

“░░░░░░,” he repeats, his smile faltering slightly as he notices your confusion. He reaches up to touch his mouth, and you catch a glimpse of his missing canine, a gap in his smile that seems oddly out of place.

Was he missing that tooth before? You can’t quite remember. Your mind feels foggy, as if shrouded in a dense mist that obscures your thoughts. You blink, trying to clear away the haze, but it only seems to deepen, enveloping you in a suffocating embrace.

As his lips move, attempting to convey his name, the world around you warps. The once-familiar storeroom dissolves into a rotted nightmare. Shadows along the walls contort into grotesque shapes that seem to leer at you, almost becoming gargoyle-like in appearance.

The timber of the ship that surrounds you rots before your eyes, its once-sturdy frame now a decaying husk that threatens to collapse at any moment—the wood eaten away by unseen forces and the surface overtaken by a slimy film of algae. Fungi and mold grow unchecked, spreading like a disease throughout the room and emitting a foul odor that assaults your senses.

As you struggle to breathe in the stifling air, the stench of old, rotted food permeates the room, clawing its way down your throat and into your lungs like a suffocating fog. Each breath is a strain, the putrid air burning your lungs and making you gag as you fight to keep from retching.

Desperately, you focus on the other troll’s face, his features becoming your lifeline amidst the chaos. But even he is not immune to the unsettling transformation taking place before your eyes. His once-smiling visage twists and distorts, morphing into a grotesque caricature of itself. His eyes, once twinkling with warmth, now sink into his skull, becoming dark, unseeing pits that seem to bore into your soul. His smile grows decrepit, lips wrinkling like a grape in the sun, revealing rows of decayed teeth that crumble and fall apart with each passing moment, holes worming through the enamel until nothing is left but the drippings of loosened gum tissue.

The flesh of his cheeks sag and droop, exposing patches of rotting muscle and sinew beneath. Skin begins to peel away in ragged strips, revealing raw, oozing wounds that fester underneath. It’s as if the very fabric of his being unravels, the decay eating away at him from the inside out. Flesh melts away like wax in a scorching flame, leaving behind a trail of bubbling, fetid meat that sloughs off in chunks, revealing the stark whiteness of his skeletal frame beneath.

Rot fills the thick and cloying air as he’s consumed from within. Each exposed muscle twitches and writhes as if alive, pulsating with a sickening rhythm. With each passing moment, his form becomes more skeletal, the bones protruding from his decaying flesh like twisted branches of a dead tree.

A rush of seawater surges in through the rotted wood, carrying with it a sickly, briny odor that stings your nostrils with its foulness. The acrid scent clings to your skin alongside the freezing rapids like a foul miasma. You half-wonder if death would be easier than this sickening cocktail of odors—a nauseating blend of noxious fumes that threaten to overwhelm you.

The water itself is no better, a sickly shade of green that seems to throb with a malevolent energy. It’s thick and viscous, like oil mixed with sewage, and clings to you like a second skin, leaving a greasy residue in its wake. As it fills the room, the water becomes a swirling vortex of filth and decay, rising steadily as if eager to claim its victims. You feel it seeping into your clothes, numbing your skin with its icy touch.

Panic grips you as you realize the gravity of the situation, but as you try to move, you realize the skeletal hand of the other troll is closed around yours with an iron grasp. Bits and pieces of raisined skin and gristle cling to the bone, brushing against the flesh of your hand. You struggle against its grip, but it's like trying to break free from the grip of death itself.

With each futile attempt to pull away, you feel the skeleton’s fingers dig deeper into your flesh, the bony digits tightening like a vice around your wrist. You can almost feel the decay radiating from its bones, a rancid odor that fills your nostrils and makes bile rise in the back of your throat. The skeleton seems to grin at you, its empty eye sockets boring into you as if relishing your terror, feeding off your fear like a ravenous beast. You can’t help but feel a sense of revulsion, the visage of death staring back at you with mocking amusement.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears like a drumbeat of impending doom. You lose control of your breath, becoming light-headed as you push and pull air quickly. You try to keep your mouth above the flood as it rises, but every gasp you make earns you mouthfuls of the pungent brine. The taste of decay coats your tongue, a foul saltiness that makes you retch.

Desperation claws at your mind as you struggle to break free, your movements becoming frantic and erratic as you fight for survival. But with each passing moment, the water rises, its icy tendrils pulling you into the depths with a relentless force. You jerk your wrist, the rough bone of the skeleton’s hand rubbing your skin raw in the process, but it’s no use. The skeleton’s grip only tightens, its fingers digging into your flesh with an iron determination, and a white-hot agony shoots up through your arm.

As the last vestiges of air escape your lungs, you feel a primal instinct take hold, driving you to fight against the inevitable. You try to scream, but the watery sludge fills your mouth, muffling your cries and drowning out your voice. You thrash and struggle, clawing desperately at the water with your one free hand in a futile attempt to reach the surface.

Your vision blurs and the world around you begins to fade. Your eyes flutter shut.

[lunartearrose]

Ockiss24 day 5 - darkness!

Characters: December (left), Violet (right)

World: my original project Dreamality :) (title is a work in progress i still dont know if i like it)

Writings under cut!

Once again, Violet and December met up for magic practice. It was a bit dark out, but neither of them minded it much. They stuck to the wide open field aways from the forest, and despite no moonlight, the stars seemed brighter than ever.

Violet was pleased to see him after her long day hunting - he was having a minimal pain day by the looks of the cane that sat beside him in the flowers.

Another thing she noted - his eyes were so shiny in the dark. She stared a ways away as he picked a poppy growing nearby, twisting it to and fro as he inspected how it looked, in his own little world of thought.

She could really watch for hours!

….but she should really make her presence known so she doesn't scare him!

So she walked forward casually, wings lighting her surroundings. “Hi December, I'm back! Are you ready for a new spell?”

December perked up at her voice. “Oh! Yes! Um- should I get up? Or?”

“Nah, you don't have to!” Violet replied, “this one's gonna be fun - I'll teach you to float!”

“Oooh, do you think I can do it?” December asks.

“I'm sure you can! It just needs some sort of focus from what I heard - something touching you that helps with the floating. Plenty of witches use their clothes as the object in question to charm. I was thinkin’ your cloak would make some fine floaties! And if not, we'll try it on your cane if you want. Or whichever one first!”

“Alright! Let's try my cloak first, then…” December replied.

Violet proceeded to show him the spell, using her scarf as the focus - he repeated it with his cloak to an amazingly quick success!

But… the cloak wasn't the best idea. The way it hung on its own wasn't comfortable. With the cane, it required him holding on, and it wasn't comfortable to use like a witch broom, besides not having the best arm strength and balance.

Eventually, the two workshopped and fine tuned until they figured out that the bandages he wore worked out perfectly!

Just like that, the two were floating upwards, Violet using her wings to stay afloat. Together, they marveled at the stars and from there, simply worked on how long December could concentrate on the spell.

And being up in the air gave the two plenty of time to chat about life. Violet’s been helping out the less fortunate between her hunting for a cure for River's entrapment, while December was recently accepted into a college for higher learnings of magic. Being able to find a cure amongst that extensive library would be a plus…

And of course, as the two remember what happened to River, a sad sort of silence fell between them.

And so, December grabbed her hands gently.

“I'd be really happy if you applied, too.” December said, smiling a little. “If we can't find a cure there, maybe… I dunno. It's somethin’ to do.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Violet said. “If they accept demons, I wouldn't mind trying school for real.”

“They'd make an exception for you, I'm sure! You're really sweet.” December replied.

And once again, his past conversation with River about Violet crossed his mind. She always classifies herself as a demon, yet she doesn't look or act like one. Her picking of souls isn't whatever is in front of her. She has no horns. Her wings are without proper form, just beautiful, melting stardust.

Maybe he could figure out that mystery, too, and tell River when he's free that his theory about the kid he loved as a daughter was right all along.

“Thanks, December.” Violet says, “show me how to apply when we get home, yeah?”

“Of course!”

At this, Violet starts to get excited thinking about it, swaying their intertwined hands between them in a little mock dance.

And then, another thought that had been nagging her recently crossed her mind.

“Hey, you know what's kinda weird?” Violet asked.

“Mhm?” December hummed in reply.

“I see it happen all the time around me. You know. But I never really do it myself.”

“Do what?”

“Kiss someone.”

At this, December blushed. “O-oh.”

“Right? I kinda don't get the hype. It's like. What does it really do?”

“I… well… it feels nice, i guess?”

“You guess?”

“I-i never really kissed anyone, either.”

Now. She wasn't sure why, but Violet figured she'd ask.

“Well. Do you wanna find out the big deal?” She asked.

December looked a bit nervous, but a bit excited, too. “Um! S-sure! A-are you sure you want to try it with me?!”

“Yup. We're best friends, so I don’t think there's anybody else I'd wanna try it with.” She replied.

“Well.” December replied, pulling her a bit closer as they floated, “Alright. I agree. L-let's try!”

And with that, Violet leaned in an kissed him.

December froze stiff. He forgot to do anything at all!

Including holding his concentration on that spell.

He quickly began to fall, slipping from her fingers a quick second before she quickly dove down and scooped him up. From there, she floated back down to the ground with him in her arms.

“My bad! I kind of forgot about the spell!! No smooches while concentrating!” Violet apologized, flushed from embarrassment.

December was blushing for different reasons. “I-it's ok! I forgot too.” After a pause, he said, “I don't think I kissed you right, either… c-could I try again?”

With that, she blushed even harder. “I! Um! Yeah, if you wanna…”

Truth be told, she understood why kisses were so fun, now.

Eventually, the two of them would come to realize that they didn't focus on any other spells that night.

At all.

Whoopsie!

[sunnyie-eve]

5 | Software Corrupted

Series: A Zombie's Serenity 

Paring: Zed Necrodopolis x OFC Buchanan!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Might be a few mistakes, and I'm using Brenna D'Amico as how the OC's looks

| MASTERLIST |

~~~

"I can't wait till they see the boy you snuck out to see was a zombie. Start packing sis, see you next school year." Bucky smiles as he walks past me at my locker. 

"At least I won't have to deal with ignorant people anymore!" I shout making a few students look at me. 

As I walk to class Zed comes running up calling my name, "Last night, I wanted to help when zombie patrol arrived but I was just, I was afraid..."

 I cut him off, "You don't need to apologize plus I told you to go. Gus took me home and my parents weren't happy with me sneaking out. The only problem now is my parents say they will send me away for the rest of the school year if they don't meet the boy I snuck out to see. Bucky has got to them saying since I keep acting out I need to go learn a lesson."

"Great! So, I'll just win them over with my quick wit and charming smile." He winks making me smile. 

"We still have a slight problem because they still don't know you're a zombie. I didn't get the chance to say it and Bucky even hasn't told that little detail." I let him know. 

"He even hasn't thrown out that part... and they hate zombies. They're gonna send you away then I won't get to see you for the rest of the year." He sighs. 

"Yeah, but I don't care. You'll still be here when I get back. And maybe your quick wit and charming smile can win them over when they meet you before the game." I give him a smile. 

"You sure?" He asks me. 

"They're gonna send me away whether they meet you or not. I'd rather leave with them getting to see who makes their daughter happy whether they like it or not. I'm late for class." I kiss his cheek then rush off to class.

After school while I getting ready for Zed to show up, I was practicing what to tell my parents before they see him. "We got this. If they don't like him, I don't care because I do." I make way downstairs as the doorbell rings. "I'll get it!" I rush but they beat me to the door. "Fine open it, but him being-," 

My mom's words cut me off, "Handsome." I was shocked by that reaction. 

"What do you mean?" I jog over to the door to see Zed looking normal making my jaw drop. "What?" I stare at in him disbelief as he hands my mom flowers.

 "So... how do you know my daughter?" My dad asks him. 

"When she was a cheerleader and I'm on the football team." He says as I keep staring at him while they talk about playing football. 

"Okay, we have to get going." I make my way throughout my parents dragging Zed away. 

"Nice meeting you." Zed smiles at my parents.

"What the heck?" I ask him, a good distance away from my parents. 

"I adjusted my Z-Band. I can feel the energy coursing through my bones right now. It's awesome! Hey. We still got time before the game. I owe you a real date." He walks ahead of me. 

"A date?" I repeat. 

"Yep." He makes me shake my head. 

"Zed, it's not necessary. Taking me to the Zombie Mash was enough to call a date. You don't owe me one. Plus I don't think this is safe or good for you." I jog to catch up with him. 

"But I want to and it's worth it." He smiles walking us to the fro-yo place we have.

As I go in Zed doesn't follow me and I see him outside holding his wrist, "What did I tell you." I look at him worried. 

"I'm fine. Eliza was wrong. Nothing bad happened." He smiles. 

"Eliza and the word wrong don't belong in the same sentence." I tell him but he makes us go inside. "You pick the most boring place because all we have is vanilla." I tell him as we wait. 

"I've always wanted to come here. Now finally, here I am with you on a date. This is so great. Right?" He sees I wasn't thrilled. 

"Is it though?" I ask him. 

"Yeah. Look at us. We're together." He smiles. 

"But I'm not with you. I'm with someone you're forcing yourself to be. And on the football field." I explain to him.

"You hid your hair most of your life to fit in. Why can't I do the same with my Z-Band? Why is that so bad?" He asks. 

"But I don't anymore because I don't care. And you help me realize that. There's a huge difference between my hair and your z-band. You're hurting yourself and being something you're not. Even when I hid my hair, I was still myself. You're changing yourself when it's others that need to change." I explain. 

"We're gonna make this work, okay? Everything's great. Trust me. I'll dial myself back to zombie mode and win the game." He tells me. 

"But everything not great because I'm on a date with someone else. I wanna be seen with Zed the zombie not Zed the human. I wanted my parents to meet the zombie that stole my heart with his quick wit and charming smile." I sigh making him think about it.

When we get to the game Addison rushes over to me, "I hear my parents say your parents met the boy you snuck out to see and they liked him. How did Zed manage that? You're parents are worst than mine." She asks. 

"Zed messed with his Z-Band. He made himself look normal which I hated. He's changing himself when others need to change. You're one of his friends but keep it a secret because of our family. You need to stand up for him and zombies and yourself. Stop hiding under that wig because it's so much easier to show it off. You'll feel a weight be lifted off your shoulders. Trust me." I walk away to take a seat in the stands.

When the game was coming to the end we were down five points. "Give me a Zom. Give me a bie." Addison starts to get the crowd to chant making Bucky mad. "What does that spell?" She asks making me laugh. 

"That's not spelling but she's got the spirit." I make Eliza laugh. 

"Software's been corrupted? How? Zed what did you do?" Eliza stands up. 

"Did what you told him not to do. When he meet my parents he looked like a human." I tell her. 

"He want?!" She gets pissed. 

"I was upset too." I huff as we watch him actually win the game without cheating. "He did it!" I scream jumping up. Suddenly the Z alarm goes off making people panic. Eliza and Bonzo rush off and I see them go offline too. I notice Bucky standing still smiling making me rush down the stands, "What did you do?!" I shout at him.

I run to get off and see Zed going after Bucky. Zed gets him cornered under the bleaches as I rush to them. "Zed! Fight against it the urge! I know you can." I carefully walk towards him not caring. "Zed!" I get past him and stand in front of him. 

"Serenity. Get back, please." He groans. 

"No because I know you can control it if you try. Look at me...You can do it. Breathe." I take his hand and he actually starts to go back to normal. "Zed... you okay?" I ask and he slightly smiles. 

"It worked. You calmed me down." He sighs before Gus tases him.

"No. It's fine. Everything's okay. Why are you taking him? He didn't hurt anyone!" Gus handcuffed him and walks him off. "Stop! Let him go!" I rush after him but my dad and uncle show up trying to hold me back. "No!" I shove past them. "Stop it! These are my friends!" I shout but Eliza says they don't have human friends. "That's a lie because you have me! Addison..." I turn to her and she looks at everyone booing. "Back me up." I beg her.

"We told you zombies aren't safe. Give them an inch." My uncle starts. 

"They'll bite your face off." My aunt adds. 

"That's not true. Someone messes with their Z-Bands and Bucky was behind it!" I shout at them. 

"Don't lie, Serenity!" My dad yells at me. 

"I'm not!" I start to cry. 

"You're going home and you're going to pack your things." My dad grabs my arm. 

"Serenity, I'm sorry. Maybe they're right. Maybe we shouldn't be together." Zed tells me as my dad drags me off. 

"No, no! Don't say that!" I beg him as my dad drags me off while I head out Addison starts to yell at the crowd.

When I get home I had to pack my things and while I was Bucky stood in my doorway watching me. I get up walking to the door and stare at him before slamming the door in his face. My parents didn't waste a second to get me far from Seabrook. They sent me to a all girls private school with dorms. 

"Hopefully you will learn your lesson for misbehaving and will be better for the next school year." Was the last thing that told me before leaving.

[awkwardlyfangirly]

I read the father Donnie fic and I loved your writing! Do you think we could get a father fic for Leo? I saw some of your ideas for him in Donnie’s and it was adorable!

WOOOOO your patience has PAID OFF timberreader HERE IS YOUR FIC

also an anon said:

yo your fics are literally so well-written, but some of them make me so sad-

but yeah keep up the good work :)

and this is ALSO FOR YOU, ANON. SOME FLUFF FOR YOU

sorry y'all i know it's been Ages and Ages and Ages i am begging forgiveness

and I'm sorry i know it's short and maybe not great but. i just needed to write and finish Something, ya feel :')

/////////////

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Leo as a dad!

/////////////

He was fast asleep, peaceful and dreaming, his fingers twitching around his pillow.

And a child took this as a personal offense.

One simple leap into the air. One simple little body aimed directly at the center of his solar plexus. And Leo’s day started with him choking and begging for oxygen on his own precious bed.

He rolled onto his side and gasped as the air chugged back into him.

“Oh my gosh,” he said, rolling back over, grabbing the child in his arms and squeezing them tight against his plastron. They squealed and squirmed, and he held them tighter. “Is that any way to greet your old man first thing in the morning?”

“Let me goooo,” they whined, and giggled, and screeched.

“Absolutely not,” Leo declared, solemnly. “Criminals must be punished.”

The offender was subjected to a merciless tickling.

“Please,” they shrieked. “Please! Ahhh!”

Finally Leo got tired, and stopped the tickling. His kid gasped for breath, and beat against his plastron. “Dad! Let me go! I’m sorry I jumped straight on your chest and knocked all your air out!!”

“Apology accepted,” Leo wheezed. Dang, he was getting old. And tickling took a lot more energy than he remembered.

“I am bored,” the kid said, squirming out of Leo’s grasp and plopping to the floor. “I’m hungry.”

“Hi, hungry. I’m Dad.” Leo shut his eyes. It would be so easy to fall back asleep. To just let himself drift off and --

“Dadddd.” The kid was tugging at his arm, trying to pull his giant turtle body to the ground. “C’mon. Make me breakfast!!”

“You know where the Pop-Tarts are!”

“Please?? Please??? Please?????? Please make the pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse?? And like a turtle? And -”

“Fine, fine.” Leo sat up, stretched his arms wide, grabbed the kid absentmindedly as he stood up. “Well, well. Guess I’ll head to the kitchen.”

He slung his child upside-down over his shoulder. They screamed and thumped his shell with their hands.

He made sure to twist and turn as he walked, swinging the kid to and fro; they wiggled and squealed until he lifted them back up into the air and dumped them unceremoniously on the couch.

They scurried over to the kitchen and watched as Leo tied his apron around himself - a lovely blue floral print - and started on the pancake mix.

“Can I help?”

Leo glanced up; his kid was staring at him with wide open eyes; so tiny, so precious. His little mini Leo.

He grinned and beckoned them over, reaching into the drawer for a measuring cup. “Sure, kid. Come here.”

It took a little longer than usual - the kid dropped the bowl at one point, trying to make some space on the counter when Leo’s back was turned. Wet, sticky batter splattered across the floor. The kid froze, and started to cry; Leo comforted them with one hand, and got the necessary cleaning supplies out with the other.

They restarted the pancake mix, together.

Eventually the pancakes were sizzling on the skillet, and Leo was showing his kid how to tell when they were ready to flip. He had his hand over theirs, solid on the spatula’s handle, eyes trained on the pancakes. The kid’s forehead wrinkled in concentration.

They finished a decent-sized stack of pancakes, and Leo let the kid carry it to the table. They held it up triumphantly, beaming and giggling. The pancakes wobbled as they slid it onto the tabletop. Leo brought over the pancake toppings, and undid his apron.

They sat down together, and filled up their plates. They were silent as they chewed. The sunlight streamed through the window; the kid dripped syrup down their shirt.

They cleaned up the kitchen together; and afterwards, the kid fell asleep on Leo’s chest in front of the TV. He stroked their hair and listened to them snore.

“You did a good job with the pancakes,” he whispered. (They didn’t hear him or respond, being asleep.) “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another pancake again.” He ran his fingers over the kid’s forehead; they stirred and mumbled.

“I love you,” Leo whispered, feeling his child breathe against him.

[jjungkooksthighs]

She struggles when his fingers depress on her tongue even more, his nails scraping over the plush, soft muscle. With four fingers pushed past her lips, she can hardly enunciate herself. If she doesn’t try, though, the alpha before her will be displeased. She can’t have that. Not after his ultimatum. Anything would be better than the alternative. She could not bear to be separated from him. Not right now. Not when he was like this. Not when she needed this. So, she tries again with distorted, choked words , “I…I want you to be r-rough with me, a-alpha. I was a b-brat b-because I-“ his digits wind tight around her throat, cutting into her windpipe along the sides. Her eyes flutter closed, a pleasurable throb soon beating against her temples as she sputters, “I w-wanted you to t-take me like you do w-when… mmph-“ The alpha works his fingers so far into her mouth that their tips brush the back of her throat. She gags around them, her eyes opening and crinkling along the edges in silent pleading as he brings her mouth closer to his with another wrest up on her hair. His irises drag away from her heaving tits to those pretty orbs gleaming up at him as he utters, “You want me to take you like I do when I what, whore?” The delicious dip in his voice has her rubbing her legs together, her wolf rolling over in submission and need taking over when she lets her mouth go slack so he can pull his digits back only to ram them back in. “W-when yo-ou,” she slurs around her spit as he thrusts his digits to and fro between her lips, “w-whennn you are i-in youuur rutttt, aaalphaaa.” Her admission has him groaning out loud. How long had he waited to hear those words? His grip is punishing in her hair as he pulls it tighter between his fingers as he bends so he can hover close to her ear to husk, “There it is, you little minx. You wanted me to fucking use you, huh? I fucking knew it. Worry not, then, my adorable, deceitful whore. You’ll get what you deserve. I’ll make sure of it.”

His words have her squirming in her place on her knees in front of him, and the stare he gives her with those eyes that swim in lust and desire does not help her. She tries shuffling back just a bit with a small whimper, but, he doesn't let her. He pulls her hair tighter and drags her towards him once more with a disapproving grunt. She tenses up, and her eyes flicker about again, too intimidated and shy to really face him now. The fingers in her mouth thrust in yet again, hitting the back of her throat in a delicious way that makes her eyes sting, a gurgled whine leaving her at the action, the knot in her stomach growing tighter in need. She tries her best to slacken her jaw, but, he doesn't make it easy for her. The minute she gets comfortable enough to grow confident again, he pulls his fingers back out and pushes them in again, making her squeal in surprise, head leaning into his body as he keeps her on the fucking edge, her legs flailing about underneath her for a moment only to be stopped by the grip he has on her hair. He doesn't want her squirming about. Not when he knows- not when she knows just how much she's enjoying this. "What do you fucking do when you're spoken to, little girl?" The words are growled into her ear, and she knows that she mustn't keep quiet. Not when it could entail him leaving her here on the cold floor, with nothing to do about the desire that burns hot for him within her.

“Yessss, aaalphaa.” She blabbers around his fingers, “wwantted youuu to-“ he pistons his digits so quickly now, “to useee me.”

“I can think of many ways to use this devious little mouth of yours, whore.” His fingers are extricated from her mouth with a wet ‘pop,’ a string of her saliva extending from them to her that breaks in half when brings his soiled fingers around his swelling member “I can use your mouth like a little fucktoy, I can use it a cock warmer, or even a fucking spit receptacle. I know you wouldn’t mind any of them based on how wet that cunt of yours is for me.”

His vulgar words have her sex clenching around nothing. Gods, she wants to let him have his way with her. She can’t think of anything better. She needed this so badly. Needed him so badly.

Unwilling to risk angering him, she nods, “I want it, alpha.”

He cocks a brow at her, leaning back in his chair while his fingers wrap around his member. In her position, she’s but an inch away from it. If she just leaned forward a little, maybe-

There’s a harsh, raucous growl from deep in the bowels of his body. “Don’t you dare, whore. I didn’t give you permission to taste me. You’re going to fess up and be honest with me before you can even think about it. I don’t let liars have my cock.”

She can’t look away from how beautifully curved his big cock is. So large is it that the head of it rests just below his bellybutton.

She runs her tongue over her lower lip and when she speaks, it is purely her wolf that has drawn her courage out as she asks, “what do you wish to know, my alpha? I’ll tell you anything you wish.”

He makes her watch the way he gives a practiced tug on his member, the ring around it that he makes with his hand causing the creamy, white sticky precum to paint his hand in its color as he does.

The phantom tang of him haunts her, and she whines out in need as he continues to play with himself.

His eyes darken when he prods, “Tell me, omega, how many times have you thought about sucking my cock? How many times have you wondered what I might’ve looked like before you and I had nothing but my hand to get me through those cold nights without you?”

[protags-fic-blog]

Otometober Day 4 - Rewrite the Disappointment

So. Very similar to @hellcatinnc, my biggest disappointment lies in Variable Barricade. Love Ichiya. Favorite guy. But, 2nd board, the crying scene just doesn't sit well with me! Hibari says herself that it weirded her out... like, come ON. You spent your whole beginning trying to get him to be himself, now he's vulnerable and she just doesn't treat him right. I know she's naive and such, but it's another moment where Hibari is her biggest problem. I had to cut the scene a little bit short though (different media means different restrictions, and I'm on a time crunch. sorry!). Fic is below the cut!

Any Other Way - Ichiya Mitsumori

———

"Ichiya?" I called out, but the room was empty. It looked like it had been ransacked, sure, but it was empty. The Ichiya I knew wouldn't live in a place like this. Maybe Taiga and Shion were just teasing me.

I was beginning to doubt that he had been here at all when I heard a muffled gasp. I walked in the direction of the sound, but it only occurred to me after another gasp to look down.

There, huddled under his bed sheets, was Ichiya. I could see his blue hair poking out from underneath. "Ichiya?" I prompted again, nudging him lightly with my foot, "are you sick?"

He sniffled underneath, and I was about to call for someone to make chicken soup, when he revealed himself. His eyes were puffy and red, and he looked down at the floor in shame. "You should go, I don't want you to see me like this," he mumbled.

Instead of leaving like he asked, I crouched down, lightly pulling the sheet from off his head. His hair was in messy tangles, far from his usual style. There was a bit of shine to it too. I couldn’t tell if it was leftover product or evidence of his depressive state. I brushed it away fro his eyes, and shifted to sit down. “Why are you crying? Surely I didn’t hit you that hard,” I teased, trying to cheer him up.

To my disbelief, he cried harder. I wasn’t even sure how he could have so many tears. But finally, when the waterworks slowed enough for him to speak, the one word that left his lips was ‘you’.

My eyes widened in disbelief. “Ichiya, really, it’s-“ “I made you hate me.”

I launched in to trying to comfort him, but each word I spoke only made him cry harder. Finally, I could only think of four words left to say. "I don't hate you."

He looked at me like I had horns growing out of my head. "You... Don't?"

Before I could respond, he sobbed again. "I ruined our date... I took your first kiss... I made you mad and I still can't find a way to fix this! God, I look so pathetic right now, crying in front of a girl," he trailed off, sniffling.

It was hard to deny that he looked a little pathetic. Out of all the men here, it was him that I least expected it from. He was always so sure of himself... could it be that it was just a facade?

I reached up to wipe the tears off his cheeks, trying to take him a little seriously. He pushed my hand away gently, as if he thought I was taking pity on him. "I just can't seem to get to you. Nothing I ever say means anything to you! I should just give up already, I never even had a fighting chance."

"Ichiya... I know you care." He closed his eyes, as if he didn't want to hear me. He probably thought I was just trying to be nice to him. I had to do something, not just say something this time. I took a deep breath in, quelling my minor discomfort about being so close to him, and now moved closer.

I wrapped my arms around his torso and placed my head on his shoulder. His tears bled through the thin fabric of my shirt, and I could tell he was still crying hard. "You can do this. Just... trust in yourself a little bit more. Don't give up, okay?" "But-" "No. Giving up is giving up your chance. Relationships have rough patches like this, y'know. We can work through it if we try. You've got to pull through," I told him.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. "You're right. I've got to pull myself together. For you."

I pulled back to look at him, and shook my head. "Don't do it for me. Just be you, okay? If this is you right now, then I wouldn't have it any other way."

The way he looked at me was intoxicating. It felt good to know that I was loved. Having gone without it, I knew exactly what Ichiya felt. Even if I couldn't yet look at him the same way, I could at least let him know that I care too. I gave him a smile, then leaned forward to place a small kiss on his cheek. When I pulled away, he seemed dumbstruck. "You're... You're sure?" "I wouldn't say it if I wasn't. Not any other way."

[traveling-spartan]

What are some things you've learned or discovered about married life?

-Being able to just casually drop the phrase "my wife" in conversation really does feel like a bit of a flex. Makes you feel like A Real Adult.

-There is always something that needs cleaning or putting away in the kitchen. Always.

-Ending up in a friend group of other married couples seems to be unavoidable. Learning a thing or two about their sex lives has been equally unavoidable, unfortunately. But at least they've all made good friends so far, and the stories are more funny than awkward.

-Don't be timid in asking for what you want, or in making your needs known. But always listen, and be able to take no for an answer whenever possible. Without complaint.

-Ultimately, I can spend my money however I want. But the respect I show by consulting her first seems to go a long way.

-Turns out staying wrapped around each other all night isn't a viable sleeping position.

-We both work right now, and on somewhat different hours. This means we never have enough time in the evenings afterwards for everything we might want to do together, which sucks.

-I married a woman with long hair. There is never not a long hair or two in the shower. And sometimes the carpet.

-Scented candles, chill ambient music, and a gentle attitude always helps. Doing chores and bringing home fro-yo helps more.

-Any day I can make her laugh is a night I don't get stabbed, doing pretty good on that so far.

-I now have new reasons to continue training cardio and muscular endurance

[formeryelpers]

Humphrey Slocombe, 2077 Broadway, Redwood City, CA 94063

Fro-yo girl here. I haven’t been to Humphry Slocombe in years but they just introduced a new yogurt ice cream flavor, FROZEN, inspired by the new Disney FROZEN musical. I used to like Humphry Slocombe…so my expectations were high. Also, years ago they had some really good scoopable froyo flavors.

The Redwood City location is smaller with no indoor seating and one small table outside. They had about a dozen flavors. The toppings and flavors didn’t seem as exciting or adventurous as they used to be. Samples are provided. I came for one thing, froyo, so I didn’t try the other flavors like Xmas Story, Irish Coffee, and Vietnamese coffee. They had one vegan flavor. One.

FROZEN is a yogurt ice cream with lemon, blueberries, and blue spirulina. The spirulina gives it that blue color you’d associate with FROZEN the movie/ the musical. It’s described as lightly sweet and perfectly tart. I ordered a scoop of FROZEN. It did taste like yogurt and it was slightly tart. I love blueberries and lemon together. Surprisingly, I could barely taste either. It tasted more like brown sugar and cream, with a yogurt aftertaste. The texture was thick, dense, and creamy but it did not taste like blueberries or lemon. I didn’t love it or hate it. I was disappointed though.

A single scoop was $5.50 and on the small side. Some ice cream shops give you much bigger single scoops.

You can also get sundaes, floats, beverages, pints, and ice cream sandwiches.

You know you love me. X0 X0, fro-yo girl.

3.5 out of 5 stars

By Lolia S.

[rk-ocs]

Yugioh abridged ebonics ep 4

---

Yugioh abridged ebonics translated episode 4

Yo Yu-Gi-awww!: Rex an' Weevil in: Huh-huh, you said "nigga-Eater" Bug!

On da boat

JOEY: Wow, an entire island all ta ourselves! It's sorta like dat book, Lord o' da Flies. Only wif uh lot less subtext, an' uh lot mo' card games!

TRISTAN: Wasn't dat da movie wif da evil ring an' da hobbits?

TÉA: Why would any o' those things be on dis here island, you idiot?

uh screen appears wif Bakura an' an arrow pointing ta his evil ring, an' an arrow pointing ta Yugi labeling him as uh hobbit

dey leave da boat fo' da island

TRISTAN (thinkin`): ah sho hope nahh one notices we's be trespassing!

GOON: werd up, you!

TRISTAN (thinkin`): da irony!

GOON: Quit drawing attention ta yo'self, you barely qualify as uh sidekick.

JOEY: Ahh-choo!

YUGI: You wouldn't gots caught dat cold if it hadn't been fo' Weevil.

JOEY: Actually, ah wouldn't gots caught it if you hadn't been uh naïve moron an' handed him yo' most powerful cards!

YUGI: nahh, it wuz definitely Weevil. He threw muh motha fuckin grandfather's cards into da ocean, an' ah'll never be able ta forgive him.

TRISTAN: It's sort o' like da tyme Joey threw away uh piece o' yo' Millennium Puzzle!

JOEY: Yeah, except ya forgave me fo' dat. Right Yug?

YUGI: (wif uh very angry glimpse in his peeps) sho Joey, sho.

Flashback o' Joey throwing away uh piece o' da Millennium Puzzle, while Ironside theme by Quincy Jones iz played

KEMO: Attention Duelists! If you can all stop staring at muh motha fuckin fro fo' uh moment, you'll see dat Pegasus's castle iz just behind me. Please follow da unnecessarily long staircase ta meet yo' host.

TÉA: muh motha fuckin limey senses is tingling! (sees Bakura down in da forest)

YUGI: What iz it, Téa?

TÉA: ah thought ah seen Bakura ag'in!

JOEY: Maybe we's should go check. He iz our nigga, afta all.

YUGI: an' let him cut into muh motha fuckin precious screentime? nahh way! Besides, it's not like he's uh main character or anythin`.

On top o' da castle

DUELIST 1: werd up, check out all da obligatory cameos. Weevil Underwood, Rex Raptor, Mako Tsunami...

DUELIST 2: But where's da reigning champion, Seto Kaiba?

DUELIST 1: Didn't you hear? He wuz barred from da tournament cuz his name wasn't mad stupid enough.

PEGASUS: Welcome ta da Duelist Kingdom. Let me assure you dat dis here tournament iz 100% genuine an' iz not in any way an elaborate ruse thrown together at da last minute so dat ah can git muh motha fuckin hands on an Ancient Egyptian artifact. ta advance ta da finals, an' da chance at three million bones, you mus' each win ten star chips by betting dem on card games. Remember kids, gambling iz pimp-tight fo' you!

Field

JOEY: Now dat muh motha fuckin cold iz instantly cleared up, ah can't wait ta win dis here tournament an' git da prize money!

YUGI: So you can pay fo' da operation, right?

JOEY: What operation?

YUGI: da one yo' sister's getting.

JOEY: What sister?

TÉA: werd up, it's Weevil!

YUGI: Weevil! ah challenge you ta uh--

Weevil runs away

JOEY: Wait uh minute, he's running away!

YUGI: It's almost as if he don' wants ta play uh card game wif me.

WEEVIL: Actually, dumbass, ah wuz just leading you into dis here vague trap or somethin`. Heh-heh-heh.

YUGI: Super Special phat Ultra Special phat Transformation Sequence GO! (Transforms into Yami)

YAMI: ah'm back, baby!

WEEVIL: Heh, two can play at dat game, dillhole. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh.

YAMI: Sweet motha o' Osiris, he's transforming too! But who, or what iz he becoming?

WEEVIL: ah be Cornholio! ah need T.P. fo' muh motha fuckin bunghole! Heh-heh-heh.

YAMI: It's tyme ta duel, you strange silly nigga.

WEEVIL: is you threatening me? ah summon muh motha fuckin Generic Insect. Heh-heh.

TÉA: Wow, peep at all da phallic imagery.

(Yami plays Horn o' da Unicorn on his Feral Imp.)

JOEY: What is you jivin' about, Téa? dere ain't anythin` remotely suspect 'boutdis here duel.

YAMI: Now, quiver in fear, as muh motha fuckin Knight's mighty lance penetrates yo' moist cocoon.

TÉA: Huh. ah guess you right.

Mai arrives

TRISTAN: werd up peep! titties gots arrived!

MAI: You pimpz is wasting yo' tyme. Yugi don' stand uh chance! He's not nearly experienced enough.

TÉA: Compared ta friendship an' compassion, experience iz meaningless!

MAI: Keep telling yo'self dat, hun. What is you, uh virgin or somethin`?

TÉA: beotch, ah'LL SCRATCH yo' peeps OUT!

JOEY: Could you pimpz stop jivin' 'boutsex? ah'm trying ta ogle Mai's cleavage here.

YAMI: ah activate Deus Ex Machina!

WEEVIL: werd up, heh-heh, nahh fair, heh-heh, you can't use Spell Cards during muh motha fuckin turn!

YAMI: Tell it ta da writing staff. Summoned Skull! Destroy his cheap Mothra imitation!

TRISTAN an' JOEY: Yay! we's wuz totally ineffectual!

WEEVIL: ah lost! Heh-heh... an' sheeit. Heh-heh.

YAMI: Maybe next tyme, you'll think twice 'bfoe forcing someone ta part wif they valuables. Now hand ova yo' star chips an' kiss muh motha fuckin feet!

WEEVIL: Damnit! Heh-heh... dis here card game sucks. Heh-heh-heh.

YAMI: Settle down, buttmunch.

End. da theme rap from Ironside plays ag'in

werds n shit appears on screen: [new episodes every week]

Stinger:

ODION (as Samuel L. Jackson): dat's it! ah gots had it wif deez motherf*cking snakes on dis here motherf*cking plane! , wOrd!

[ruinedsoulsrp]

Jake chuckled softly when she offered to ease up on him. He knew he deserved the shit she was giving him, and he was able to take it in stride. If it helped her to get it out of her system so she wasn't mad at him anymore then he really didn't mind. His brows rose playfully as she pointed to the table and he gestured to her giant cup of fro-yo once again. "You can admit it might have something to do with it." he teased, unable to help the smirk on his face. He appreciated that she made the effort to take somewhat of an interest in his sport of choice. It was one of the things he loved about her, she was caring and considerate, and he hadn't been the latter to her in a few weeks for sure. "It is, actually. Coming together pretty decently." he offered. They'd lost a few of their main stars with graduation last year, so being one of the people to fill those big shoes had been a lot of pressure on him. Jacob knew she was teasing him, evidenced further by the smile that appeared which only pulled his further onto his lips, though he did catch the slight jab she threw in by mentioning she'd already agreed and so obviously she'd keep the commitment, something he'd just failed to do. "You don't have to sit in another section.." he offered weakly, knowing that his current girlfriend had more or less taken over Phoebe's usual spot in his cheering section. A bright laugh followed her retort, his wide smile that was reserved for her and a few others finding his face. "That's pretty true, isn't it?" he agreed with a small nod, as he took another spoonful of his own dessert into his mouth. "Maybe I should go into Enablers Anonymous so we can get eventually get you some help." he teased back.

She rolled her eyes at him to keep herself from smiling at his question. "Only if it's true. It's not liking the Beatles is a weird requirement to be my friend, so you don't need to pretend." But, even just his questions and dramatic gestures were enough to start chipping away at the grudge she had been holding on to. Jake definitely knew how to do it, reminiscent of their first interaction so long ago. She had told him to go away, her resolve to be on her own, and yet - he stuck around and little by little, convinced her to open up. Anytime was doubtful, but Phoebe didn't comment on it.

No shame in this place, though it also helped that she had a huge sweet tooth. The average person may look at her cup and think it was too much, but it was a decent amount for her. Thinking back, she could've added more. His small cup of fro-yo looked kinda sad next to hers, and for a moment, she thought it would've been better to follow his lead and go for the smaller cup. Phoebe took a bite of her latest creation, raising an eyebrow at his words. "Fine fine, I'll ease up on you. Wouldn't want you to choke. And no, this has nothing to do with it," she spoke, pointing at the table.

"Yeah, I saw the team on the field the other day. Is this year looking better for you guys?" Of course, she didn't see Jake that day. And so, she didn't approach the field, but Phoebe was semi-aware the season had started. The game this weekend. Shit. She was so caught up in her grudge that she had ignored the calendar reminder and agreed to a family weekend getaway. Then again, chances of that actually happening was slim, but as Phoebe mixed in her fro-yo and toppings, she wondered if it was even a good idea to go. "Your timing is impeccable as always," her grin inevitably making an appearance. "I'll be in another section, but yeah..of course. I had already agreed, so I'll be there. Wait, are you shaming me for my toppings?" Feigned shock went into effect quickly and her brows furrowed, a frown forming. "it's a problem you enable, so if you really think about it, this is on you." It's all Phoebe could say before sticking her tongue out at him in retaliation.

[zombieluvr101]

ACCIDENTALLY ON

PURPOSE

Fandom / Zombies

Paring / Zed Necrodopolis x Fem!Reader

Prompt / accidentally confessing feelings ; longing stares

Summary / a hot guy likes you fr‼️ DOESNT THAT SOUND GRAND?!

Word Count / 971

Gif by / @megedonnelly

Prompt / @luvfae

Seconds left on the clock. Which is counting down the last few seconds of the most important game of my life. This game determines if I have what it takes to play football at Mountain College.

“Alright team, we only have 25 seconds on the clock. Zed, if you make this, we win,” Coach says wearily as we are timed out.

Just hearing Coaches voice, I can tell he’s nervous. I mean, yeah I am too. This is my big game. If I don’t get into Mountain College I won’t be with Y/n.

Yeah, yeah, I know! Y/n isn’t even my girlfriend yet. But she’s so smart, and witty, and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

Okay Zed! Focus.

“Alright Wynter, I need you too be open in the center field so Maximus can throw you the ball so you can try to make the touchdown,

but if that doesn’t work try and pass it to me,” I instruct.

We get into position, the whistle blows.

Our quarterback starts us off, “White 80, hut hut!”

Wynter catches the ball and makes her way over but get tackled in the process. But she was able to pass it to me. I turn to switch my Z-band.

Seven seconds left..

The ball brushes against my fingers. But I catch it.

Six seconds left…

I use all my speed to run to the end zone.

Five.

I duck and jump over the opposing teams players.

Four.. Three… Two….

One!

I land in the end zone on the very last second.

“And the Seabrooks Mighty Shrimp have done it again! They have won the last game of the season!”

The cheerleaders are doing their thang, while the crowd goes wild.

“Seabrook! Seabrook! Seabrook!!!”

My friends and family go out for celebratory frozen yogurt. Bonzo, Bree and I are sitting at a table together. And the Acy’s and the rest of the cheer squad are talking about whatever is amusing to them.

“Actually Bonzo.. I don’t have the answer to that,” Bree stated.

Just as I start my sentence, the door to the fro-yo spot jingles. And a pair of blue converse enter the establishment.

“Hey guys!” Y/n say with a cheerful tone.

“OrR!!” Bonzo greets. Meanwhile I can’t get a single word out of my mouth. She makes my brain mush.

“Congrats on your win Zed,” She says with a smile as she takes a seat next to me. All I can do is blink and stare.

“T- hank you,” I mumble in awe of her presence. Gosh I’m such an idiot. But overall she seem amused.

“Welp I’m gonna get my frozen yogurt..” Y/n says getting up from her seat.

“Oh here! Let me pay for it,” I suggest. I jumped out of my seat and grab her hand. Walking over to the register.

“You really don’t need to pay,” She reassures.

“No, no, no I got it Y/n,” I confirm.

Once we since sit back down, Bonzo and Bree have gone outside, leaving just us two to talk. And Y/n continues to eat her fro-yo. I find it funny that the most outgoing, and spirted person I know loves the most basic flavor there is. Vanilla.

I’ve had feelings for Y/n the moment I locked eyes with her on my very first day at Seabrook. I figured that she would be like everyone else and harass me for being me. But she was the opposite.

She treated me with such kindness. She would volunteer to help me with my work if it was something I haven’t learned at Zombie school.

Or if Eliza and Bonzo would pair up for a project and I didn’t have one, she would immediately sit next to me. Making her my partner for most of the projects we’ve done.

Snapping out of my daydream I look up at her again. But this time she has some vanilla yogurt on the right side of her mouth.

Out of instinct (and a very messy little sister) I go to wipe it off of her.

“Oh you have some—” I start.

The only thing is, she turned her head towards me a little more than expected. Making my thumb press against her lips.

Our eyes meet. I’m blown away. No air left. We don’t break apart. I keep my thumb on her lips, gently stroking it.

I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or not, but I see the same passion in her eyes. Just like when I’m looking in the mirror practicing what I’m going to say to her.

Moving my hand, I place my hand on her cheek.

“Thank you,” She says in a whisper. Not once looking away from my eyes.

“No prob,” I reply with a smile.

Gravity pulls us closer and closer.

“God she’s so beautiful—”

She laughs softly, “You think so?”

huh? OH.

“Did I say that out loud?”

She nods sweetly.

“Oh yeah, mhm yea— I 100% meant too. Like I kne- like I know that I did. I was just making sure that YOU— know that I did—” I stutter out, trying to keep my cool.

She interrupted, “Zed, I know what you mean, really.”

“It’s just that I really really like you. I have since freshman year. I don’t know why I haven’t told you. Well actually yes I do. You make me so nervous. Like everything you do makes me flustered,” I confess with speed.

I can tell my words are making her flustered. She looks down but I use two fingers to push her head back up.

“I — I like you too Zed,” She says in a shy tone.

My smile begins to get bigger, “Well you should let me take you out sometime.”

“I’d like that,”

Mind you, we were still holding hands.

end 🫶🏾

[tf2-headcanon-quotes-confesions]

Tf2 frozen yogurt audacity scale

Spy 1/10

He eats like a gentleman. No toppings, no mixing, no creativity.

He gets a single cup of a single flavor like pomegranate or coffee and eats it. Then he throws his cup and spoon away.

He doesn’t even like frozen yogurt that much.

The only reason he’s not a zero is because he tries several different flavors. Never stuff like birthday cake or cotton candy, though.

Pauling 2/10

Girl just wants some fro yo. She deserves it too.

She’s nice to the workers and polite and happy when eating.

She likes plain vanilla but with lots of fun toppings. She tries out different topping combinations each time. She’s careful to keep it balanced so she can still taste the yogurt, though.

Sometimes, when she’s getting it by herself, she makes faces with the toppings.

Heavy 3/10

Very similarly to Miss Pauling, he’s nice and also happy to be here.

He likes getting flavors with chocolate in them like cookies and cream or just plain chocolate. He doesn’t usually get toppings but prefers the fresh ones over the candies when he does.

He’s got more of a savory tooth than a sweet one.

The uptick in points is because he has and will destroy people in an eating contest if challenged. Scout was dumb enough to do this once. Scout had a stomach ache for a week and a very broken pride.

Scout 5/10

Eats exclusively carnival flavors like birthday cake and cotton candy. Often gets several flavors and stirring them into some marshmallow-y mixture.

He usually just gets plain rainbow sprinkles as a topping. He’s here for the ice cream, not the toppings.

You’d think he’d be higher on the list but honestly most of his audacity comes from his attitude, not his order.

That being said, he is very much his usual self while out eating. Zero manners. He talks with his mouthful and he talks a lot. Pastel spots end up everywhere and his shirt always gets stained, no mater how hard he tries. Even when he’s consciously being careful trying to prove a point to spy, somehow something ends up on him.

He also will get multiple cups.

Demoman 6/10

His usual is pistachio, coconut, or lime.

He douses it with alcohol. You know what “two shots of vodka” vine? That’s him with his fro yo.

He stirs it until it’s a liquid and chugs it rather than eating it with a spoon.

All together, it’s a pretty ordinary and good confection. If he weren’t making it right there in the middle of the restaurant + doing it every single time there’d be nothing audacious about it.

Soldier 6/10

Blueberry, strawberry, and vanilla. Every. Single. Time. He has not eaten any other flavor of frozen yogurt in his life.

Demo tried to get him to try coconut or pomegranate (to keep the red/white/blue) but he absolutely refused.

He gets white sprinkles on top as well.

On occasion, he eats his cup. (This accounts for about 80% of his grade.)

Sniper 7/10

He just likes fruit. He gets every flavor of fruit and eats them all separately as he can, no mixing. He gets fruit toppings on the side.

The reason he’s so high on the list? He takes a spoonful and dips it into coffee before eating it. He doesn’t get coffee flavor; he brings his own cup of actual coffee and dips a single spoonful of a single fruit flavor into it before putting it into his mouth.

Points off because this man eats like a shadow. He is the quietest most inconspicuous eater in the world. Not exactly because he’s polite, just because he’s used to keeping himself unnoticed.

Engineer 9/10

He only gets one or two flavors, usually something along the lines of peanut butter and/or caramel.

His costs over double the amount of everyone else’s once it’s weighed.

He builds a castle of frozen yogurt in his cup. He is putting actual architectural math into his creation. It’s gotten ridiculous. Like, several feet tall ridiculous.

He then stacks hard toppings on top of his mountain to make it even taller. It isn’t even wobbly. It’s a structural masterpiece.

He never finishes. He doesn’t need or want that much, he just thinks it’s fun to see how much he can fit inside one cup.

Pyro 10/10

Contrast to Engie, Pyro’s costs half as much as everyone else’s just from how much of their cup is full of toppings. It’s so light.

They’ve got everything. Every version of sprinkles, chocolate, boba, whipped cream, candy, and marshmallow. Every offered sauce and syrup. It’s not frozen yogurt so much as it is sugary soup with a tiny dollop of yogurt on the bottom.

What flavor they get—if they get any yogurt at all—doesn’t even matter. It’s been drowned beyond recognition.

The kicker? They eat it hot, often times burnt, heating it up themself with their torch. IF they even eat it at all. Sometimes they get carried away and are happy focusing on the fire. The employees are too scared to kick them out despite (and because of) the open flames.

Medic 12/10

This man is a monster.

His cup is filled with flavors that should never go together. His cup is full of flavors they don’t even serve. Nobody knows how he gets them.

His concoction smells like scented hand sanitizer.

He delightfully eats the whole thing pleasant and polite scoop by pleasant and polite scoop as if it were an ordinary cup of frozen yogurt and not something that could be used in chemical warfare.

He likes to sprinkles a bit of peanuts on top. If Archimedes is with him he’ll get a small side of them for him.

[quiltedpomegrantes]

LI’s Ice Cream Shop Orders

(Kylar)

Alex

-Definitely gets an ice cream soda.They’d cycle through different flavors, but cherry is their favorite

-For an ice cream cone, they’d go for a plain waffle cone, two scoops, and some form of nuts on top. Probably pecans, and if they have sugared pecans they’re losing their mind.

-100% needs napkins. No question. But they won’t ask for them and will decline if asked by their server. You’d have to get them, or bring some along. -LowDom!Alex will pay separately from you, or let you pay only if you offer. HighDom!Alex will pay for you, no questions asked.

Avery

-Doesn’t necessarily love how dairy sits in their stomach. Probably goes for a sorbetto or sherbet. NOT rainbow sherbet. Probably a raspberry or a chocolate if they have it. Alternatively, sea salt caramel. Vanilla base, NOT chocolate.

-Cup, single scoop. Maybe a waffle bowl if he’s feeling adventurous.

-Not a big fan of toppings but if he gets sea salt caramel he might get hot caramel on top. Might.

-He’ll ask for one or two extra napkins. If there’s a dispenser he’ll grab three and feel a little nervous that someone noticed. Ice cream is a very rare treat for him, and you two don't often go out together for it. If you insist, he won't complain though.

-Pays for it, no matter the state he's in.

-calls sprinkles jimmies

Black Wolf

-Sometimes you'll buy them a little kid scoop of vanilla. They adore it. Loses their mind with joy. Their tag wags at the speed of light.

-Gets it in a dish, mostly because you don't want to overload them with sugar.

-Maybe whipped cream, but you still worry about the sugar content.

-It's always a bit melted but they're so thankful.

Eden

-Before living in the woods, they weren't particularly interested in ice cream. But on the off chance a craving struck, they'd get something simple. Vanilla or butter pecan. Something not overwhelmingly sweet or complicated.

-Just a cup for them. A cone just seems messy or frivolous.

-No toppings either, but almost would have gotten salted peanuts.

-If you ever convinced him to go to an ice cream shop with you, he'd give you money to pay. They don't like speaking to cashiers.

-MAYBE you could convince him to help you hand-churn some ice cream, but he's not interested in doing it frequently.

-secretly really loves root beer floats.

Great Hawk

-Can birds eat ice cream?

-Can their species eat ice cream??

-Do they like ice cream???

-The answer is yes, yes, and absolutely not. It's way too sweet. The texture is soft. They feel like they're an eyas again being fed by their mom.

-Although they will start looking out for it, after seeing how much you loved eating it. Just for their wife.

Robin

-Superman FANATIC

-You'll relentlessly tease him for this. "Superman tastes like bubblegum." "Ohhh, do you like the pretty colors?" "Isn't that for children?"

-They want a chocolate dipped sprinkle cone, but instead of getting one they'll get it in a cup or cake cone. If you helped at the lemonade stand, they'll be able to splurge on some sprinkles.

-Will cry if you buy them a strawberry milkshake. Yes whipped cream. Yes cherry.

-They won't ask for napkins but if there's a dispenser they'll definitely grab some. They get a little bit nervous when checking out.

-Before entering a romantic relationship, you'll pay separately. After entering into a relationship, you'll probably pay. It's easier that way. They're so cute and thankful for their ice cream.

-Calls it an ice cream parlor.

Sydney

-Loves a cheesecake flavor. Any. Turtle cheesecake, Strawberry Swirl cheesecake, even just a plain New York Cheesecake. But, prefers frozen yogurt over anything else. Adores a key lime fro-yo.

-Cake cone all the way, they love the satisfying crunch. They don't really like sugar cones or waffle cones.

-Loves a good banana split sundae. Only gets plain vanilla with it. You side eye them and ask if they're sure. They say yes????????

-Calls scoops "dips"

-They'll always pay, because Sirris gave them money to.

-Fallen!Sydney will get visibly heated watching you eat ice cream.

Whitney

-Strong Fudgie Brownie. Something with a lot of chocolate. Maybe chocolate peanut butter? Hates fruit flavors, and will bully the fuck out of you for getting one.

-Strong waffle cone or sugar cone. Cups are sooooo boring, why the hell would you get a cup?

-Two scoops. ALWAYS two scoops.

-Doesn't mind a cherry milkshake, but will refuse whipped cream. Unless you guys are alone. No, you will not share.

-Maybe chocolate drizzle or hot fudge on top but can't really do that in a cone.

-You pay. Always you, and if you refuse they'll definitely shake you down. But once they start really caring for you, they'll just waltz out holding your hand.

-Always tempted to eat your ice cream or knock it over. Just to see your face. Would you cry? Just accept it? They've done a lot worse to you. He'd love to watch your lip twitch as you struggle not to cry.

-If the ice cream starts to drip, you will be forced to clean their hands up. They'll switch the ice cream to their other hand, and just push their fingers into your mouth. You better start sucking on them.

-Napkins? absolutely not. That's what you're there for. To clean them up.

Author's note:

Excuse the quick snippet post. I've been working on something a bit longer. I excluded Kylar because there is a karmic imbalance in the amount of content for them, and everyone else. Also, I just wouldn't know what to post for them. I'd love to hear others' opinions.