#... you know ;)

[bugfuckerkian]

@jestery-lemon-zest

morning routine

[andorshitdaily]

Good news.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Inspiration Saturday

I was tagged by my darling @bidisasterevankinard (ily Diana 💖) and I decided to share the Prologue of a new fanfic I just started to write, inspired by one of my favorite telenovelas! Special thanks to @agentpeggycartering and @unhingedangstaddict who both heard me yap about this idea and helped me refine it! Ily both so much, thank you darlings!!! 💖 (Fair warning: it'll start as Buddie, but it will not be Buddie-friendly, nor particularly Eddie-friendly, so if that's problem, please feel free to skip this one, I totally understand! 💖)

Thomas Kinard doesn’t know what to expect from Howie’s brother-in-law. As much as he’s always willing to help Howie when needed—especially after what the man once did for him—Tommy is not a family lawyer. He deals with corporations, taxes, five-digit accounts, not custody battles or messy divorces or whatever this is.

He should have told Howie that over the phone, really, when his old friend called him and said his wife’s brother had a complicated family situation and needed some legal advice. But Tommy didn’t have the heart to say no to him. So, he’ll hear the man out, offer his condolences for whatever complicated family mess he’s stepped into, and then politely send him on his merry way, wishing him luck on his endeavors. There’s really nothing else Tommy can do.

Except. The moment Evan Buckley walks into his office, baby strapped to his chest, blue eyes wide and broken and clinging to hope like it’s the last thing he has… Tommy knows he’s not sending this man anywhere. Not a chance. At that moment, Tommy decides he’ll do whatever it takes to help him.

(Yes, he knows he’s being profoundly irrational, and no, he doesn’t want to think about that too hard.) 

Tommy gets up, unconsciously adjusting his suit jacket and fiddling with his cufflinks, a habit he thought he’d quit as soon as he graduated from Law school about six years ago. Apparently cute men with babies bring it back or something. 

“Mr. Buckley,” he greets, trying to keep a semblance of professionalism as he extends a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Thomas Kinard.”

“Um, h-hi. Y-you can call me Buck. O-or Evan, I guess that’s more appropriate.” Evan answers, his voice hoarse and nervous, and he absent-mindedly shakes Tommy’s hand with his right one, the left protectively wrapped around the baby strapped to his chest. 

Admittedly, Tommy doesn’t know a lot about babies, but if he had to guess, he’d say this one is definitely young, probably around three or four months. He doesn’t like to assume, but by the clothing he’d say it’s a boy. He has rosy cheeks and blue sparkly eyes who are curiously looking around, his chubby legs kicking aimlessly from under the chest carrier. His feet are covered in the cutest pair of Converses, and Tommy didn’t even know they made such small ones. 

“Evan, then. And who is this handsome little fellow?” Tommy asks, giving the baby a tiny wave, and Evan looks down at him as if he wants to memorize his little face, gently stroking his few wisps of brown hair.

“This… this is my son, Noah. And… And he’s the reason why I’m here.”

Tommy gives him a curt nod, not exactly surprised. Even though he never worked family cases, every lawyer worth their degree knows that the brunt of them are custody cases. He wonders what’s the complicating factor in this one, though, and what could have caused a divorce with a baby so young. 

As he usually does, Tommy gestures to the armchair in front of his desk, but when Evan keeps standing, one hand still awkwardly wrapped around the baby carrier, he falters. 

“Um, sorry”, Tommy says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe the armchair isn’t the best choice with your little passenger”

Evan chuckles lightly, and it takes Tommy’s breath away, the way that smile lights up his face. It’s like sunshine itself has entered his office. However, it’s gone as soon as it comes, as if the problems weighing on Evan’s shoulders just won’t take a longer break. 

“No, I… I’m good standing”, he says, but Tommy is already pointing to the leather couch on the back of the office. It’s normally used only when he works overnight and needs to crash, but he supposes exceptions can always be made. 

“C’mon, I think you’ll be comfier over here. I promise I’m as professional on the couch as behind the desk”, he quips, and another small chuckle escapes Evan’s lips as he nods. It makes Tommy irrationally happy that he’s the one bringing it to him. 

They both move to the couch, Evan leaning back against it so the baby is laying down over his chest. He’s rubbing gentle circles on Noah’s back, and the baby keeps sucking on the pacifier in his mouth, his eyes half-lidded, the proper picture of contentment. Tommy can’t help but wonder who’s trying to disrupt this baby’s peace, trying to take him away from a father who clearly loves him dearly.

“Alright,” Tommy says, once they’re both sitting down, straightening his posture. He won’t open his notebook, not yet, he wants to listen to Evan first, but his voice is fully Attorney Kinard now, the one who can make sense of other people’s legal chaos. “You say you’re here because of Noah. Can you please elaborate?”

“My… my ex-boyfriend and the surrogate who’s had him. They want to take him away from me,” Evan says, despair clear in his voice, tears glimmering in his eyes, as if just saying it costs him everything. “They claim he’s their baby, and I’m afraid they’re right.”

Tommy falters. There’s clearly a story there. He’s known of cases involving surrogacy, of course, but usually it’s both parents suing the surrogate, or the other way around. This is… certainly new. 

“Okay”, he says, trying to sound as calm as possible, because that's what Evan needs. “Why don’t you tell me the story from the beginning?”

Np tagging @agentpeggycartering @unhingedangstaddict @fairytalegonewronga03 @moonydanny @trombonechurchill @laundryandtaxesworld and whoever else wants to play ♥

[saphire-makesart]

Yeah probably

gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

[momobutveryhorny]

Ok so theoretically if you ever came over to pups apartment, like you would need to set the pace arfrrfr. Like pup is both a huge pathetic coward arffrff and like the power imbalance of it being my space makes pup nervous arfrfr. You gotta take the initiative arfrfrf. Even if its just talking about boundaries or what you want to do arfrfrrrr.

[tribius-art]

Too close

[zorlok-if]

Some more examples of how cycling links are employed so players can fine tune Zorlok's reactions/dialogue responses.

Example 2:

Example 3:

[ghostpebble]

PFHAGAHAHAHAA

🫖

[perpetualcynicism]

“Shikanoin-sama, I am trying to pray. I would be very grateful if I were able to do so in peace.”

“Sorry, sorry. Of course.” A pause. “It’s just that you look so… yummy.”

You withhold a sigh. In a controlled manner, you say, “Shikanoin-sama, please refrain from having thoughts of cannibalism while inside the shrine.”

“Ah, it’s not cannibalism, though,” he points out. “I’m not human, remember?” The statement is accompanied by a flick of his ears.

“Please refrain from having thoughts of eating me while in the shrine,” you rectify evenly. The exasperation you feel does not leak out into your tone.

You can almost hear the kitsune’s pout forming on his face. “…Not even a bite? One little bite? One tiny little bite?” He leans over and pinches his thumb and forefinger together beside your head for demonstration, in case the original message was unclear. 

You reply, “I cannot stop you, Shikanoin-sama. However, if you do so, I will need to ask you to leave.”

“Aw…” His footsteps retreat somewhere behind you. When there is silence, you breathe out and empty your mind, refocusing on your prayer. 

O-Inari-sama…

You feel a soft puff of air on the back of your neck. The hairs on your nape prickle and stand on end; you suppress the shudder that arises. 

You crack your eyes open to cast Shikanoin a stern look. He is standing a few paces away, looking around the shrine’s interior in an exaggerated display of distraction. When he meets your eye, he pulls a surprised face. “What are you looking at me for?” he asks in a tone of complete innocence. “It must have been the wind. It’s very breezy in here, you know.” 

You purse your lips and shut your eyes, thinking, Inari give me strength. 

Just as you have settled back into focus, you feel it again, this time tickling the outer shell of your ear. With a curt sigh, you straighten your back, turning to face him. “Shikanoin-sama, I am afraid must ask you to leave.”

He pulls back from your side. “What? But that wasn’t even biting!”

“Now,” you enunciate, before adding, “Please.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” the kitsune grumbles. He walks backwards out of the shrine, taking slow and deliberate steps. His hands are held out in front of him, his four tails bowed down behind him, as if that is sufficient to convince you of his sincerity. “See? Oh—but before I do go, tell me—are all miko this stingy?”

The urge to return a piece of his tormenting behaviour is irresistible. You allow a drip of sardonicism to enter your voice. “No, only me,” you say without looking at him. “So it is a pity that I am the one you ended up bound to, isn’t it?”

You cannot be certain how your remark is received, so you steal a glance in his direction. To your mild surprise, the kitsune is smiling as he steps outside of the doors.

Once certain you are alone, you decide it best to start the prayer anew. You bow twice, then clap your hands. Pressing your palms together, you mumble, “O-Inari-sama, I do not know why you have sent your messenger to me, nor how I ought to respond to his behaviour. I will admit he does not align with what I expected of a divine spirit, but… I trust there is a reason for this. Please grant me the patience and strength of will to accept his wisdom, and if nothing else, please allow me to retain my privacy in his presence. You are the one who understands most deeply its importance to me.”

You linger in silence for a moment longer. A draft of wind brushes past and rustles the sakura growing outside the shrine. It is breezy here with the spring wind ushering in, you must admit. You bow deeply in front of the altar once more before making your way to the exit.

[noodles-and-tea]

Imma drop kick Ford for treating Lil Stanley like that. Keep it away??? Excuse me sir let me just smack you! How dare you treat that little boy like that. As if Stan doesn’t have enough self esteem issues as it is! You better hug him NOW 😭

Meanwhile Adult!Stanley is like “I will protect him with every last breath I have!” And hugging him so tight 🥹😫

I just needed you to know that Ford does come around… eventually.

[pochiikou]

[rayukiriver]

There is beauty in imperfections you know

[hey-there-22]

I love how the TARDIS had a human form with eleven and she was like "my thief, my thief, I love my thief" BUT FAILED TO MENTION THE GOD OF DEATH HAD BEEN IN HER BACK FOR DECADES.

[maskenjager]

Stay your pretty eyes on course

[wachtelspinat]

can't believe i've drawn a mini comic to deliver a stupid dirty joke.

also whenever he can, roadie makes it his personal mission to sneak up on rat, catching him off guard with dad kaliber-like jokes.