#cookie run s6

[spxcenotic]

Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future.

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️‍🩹

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

please help donate, and if you can't, then at least share so that others can help! let's help out this family to safety ♡

[vamp-a-day]

day 58

Vampire cookie as Pure Vanilla, designed by strangermask on discord!

[buckleyanddiaz]

can we talk about how Harry runs to Bobby in s2 when Michael was mad and Bobby later tells Michael it's because Harry sees him as the fun person, not the person who will put his foot down or be the dad. and Hen talks about Denny running to Nathaniel (Denny's bio dad) when his moms did something he didn't like. and Chris runs to Buck when Eddie talked to him about dating Ana. all three kids run to someone they think are safe but not the people who will try to 'parent' them. but then Buck does. He doesn't just joke with Chris, he calls Eddie. he sits and talks to Chris about his fear and discusses what that means. he ISN'T dad's fun buddy Buck when he promises that he'll still be there. all without losing Chris' trust as his friend. then there's s6 where they make cookies together and Chris asks if they can have cookies for dinner but Buck negotiated that they'll have steak for dinner and cookies after.

again and again we're given situations where he could very well be the guy who is overcompensating by just being fun with Chris but Buck doesn't. even if he doesn't realize it, he's not playing the role of someone there just for the good parts, he's there supporting Eddie's parenting and home rules even when Eddie isn't in the room. and Chris grew up all these years watching it.

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, last week I made this post and in it, I said that what makes buddie is time, everything that happened to them, and then I corrected myself by saying what actually makes them something you can't fight against was Christopher but that that was a different post. Well, this is that different post.

So buddie. We have 2 main characters whose main screen partners are each other. Something that makes Buck and Eddie different is that Eddie was written in for Buck. Connie leaving left a gap on the show, they lost the dispatcher and Buck lost the thing he was written for, since s1 Buck is very much there to be the love interest, to give Abby something, and the bridge between the firehouse and dispatch. Since the space was surrounding Buck, they filled that space through him. They added Maddie in. But Maddie alone didn't really fill the void, a sibling dynamic doesn't really fill that space because Buck would need a more constant scene partner, so in comes Eddie. Giving him a partner in the field plus adding Maddie in fills that gap. So they gave Buck a best friend.

The thing is, in a universe where Christopher isn't a variable, where Eddie is just some guy Buck's age going through a messy divorce at the same time Buck is coming to terms with Abby abandoning him making them bond, the basis of their relationship is something completely different, and it is something you can fight against if you really want to separate them and give them other endgame love interests. If they are just best friends, you have a lot less at stake, so you can put the space between them a lot easier if necessary. A new love interest would be fighting against one person. That's a fair fight. That's a fight a new person can win if introduced correctly.

But in the universe we have, Christopher is the thing that makes them bond. The foundation of their relationship is Buck stepping up to help Eddie and Eddie deciding that that would warrant Buck his full loyalty and the relationship builds on that. Major movements in their dynamic are marked by Chris (and death, but again, different post). Chris' existence brings them together, with Buck deciding to introduce Eddie to Carla, then the tsunami shows us that there is a deeper trust between them, and then the will reveal intensifies all that and seals them together as an unconventional family (it all makes me wonder about the way they took Chris off the board, why would they do that if they aren't about to use him to snap the last piece into place to get them together since Eddie makes statements through Chris).

All this means that a love interest isn't fighting a best friend, which is something you can make work, a love interest is up against a life partner and child. Since Eddie is a single parent and the person that Buck turns to, they aren't really best friends to the audience, they are partners. And the show made a conscious effort to develop Buck's bond with Christopher outside of his relationship with Eddie. They have been adding that in since Eddie's introduction, the tsunami makes it clear, but season 4 is the one that puts the focus on Buck and Chris by showing us Buck at the house in a casual setting then making Buck a trusted adult Chris runs when upset with Eddie to then making Buck step up to take care of Chris before he knew about the will. They built upon that in s5 and then during s6 they really drove home the point that Buck sees Chris as his and that's when we start getting casually parenting, with the cookies, then the conversation they have in s7. The 3 of them have their individual connections, so for all intents and purposes, they are a family.

The chances of you actually convincing an audience that a new person (especially a new person that only exists as a love interest, since we established on the other post that audiences aren't inclined to care about characters they don't see a lot) is a better fit than an established family unit are null. It will literally not happen.

To give someone new a chance they would need to separate Buck and Eddie, they need to effectively break their partnership while building the fuck out of the new person, but that means making Buck abandon Christopher. And that's the point that would make audiences riot. The whole time Chris has been on the show, Buck was made into someone Christopher could count on like a parent. By s3 Buck and Eddie were having custody battles at a grocery store. And if you need to keep Buck in Chris' life, you can't separate Buck from Eddie. And that's what makes them IT. They can get away with separating Buck and Eddie, they cannot get away with making Buck step out on Christopher. So there's no way around them into someone else. It would never feel as satisfying because they can't really exist in a space that's like "I'm Eddie, this is my husband Buck, that's our kid Christopher, and that's Buck's boyfriend whatever" it gets boring. Especially when the show isn't exactly trying to establish the other love interest as someone worth rooting for, as explained on the other post.

[missmeinyourbones]

I’LL MAKE THIS FEEL LIKE HOME

cw: nsfw, 18+. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. wc 6k. todoroki fam lore. bnha manga + s6 spoilers. angst and fluff and smut and love and

“Do you feel held by him? Does he feel like home to you?”

- Midsommar (2019)

Touya was eight years old when his youngest brother was born—the same age realized that his house no longer felt like home. 

And while it never fit the traditional cookie-cutter feeling of a home before then, it was comforting in its own kind of way. It was definite, something that he could hold onto and strive towards. Something that was there at the end of the day, no matter how badly his hands burned or how quiet the dinner table was. 

Because before Shouto was born, there was still a chance. 

Fuyumi and Natsuo were just as much of failures as he was—it was anyone's game. He could keep pushing, train his hand to defy the science of his body and deal with it. Become what his father wanted so badly he’d kill for. That was home, the knowledge that there was still a chance for him. 

But the moment Shouto was born, hair perfectly split the same as his flawlessly cursed body, Touya knew. 

Instantly, he knew that his time was over—that there was no saving his dream of making his father proud. He hadn’t been enough, and he would have to live with that, in a house that's no home with a family that lives in the shadow of what he never got to be. 

He carries that feeling everywhere he goes. Like an eternal kink in his neck, it weighs heavy on his shoulders and disintegrates the marrow of his bones. Forever the boy without a home, Dabi continues to do what he does best—or maybe worst—and he survives. 

But, you don’t remember when Dabi became home to you. 

Well, that's not entirely true. Like all other things, you suppose it happened slowly, then all at once. 

You remember meeting him when you shouldn’t have. Recognizing his appearance from the local news, you remember the heavy feeling in your chest, like a child who was caught doing something wrong. The fear, the confusion. The part of you that wanted to help, the other than wanted to run. 

But you don’t remember how fast it all happened. 

Sewing his wounds and scrubbing his blood from your floor. Letting him sneak in to hide out, and waking up to an empty bed. You don’t remember the days bleeding into nights, but you could never forget the way his skin felt against yours.

You remember the impact, but the falling is all a blur. The stranger sleeping on your couch who has now read all of the books on your bedside table. The one who hissed and snarled for you to stay away, now crawls home to you on his knees. 

One day he wasn't, and the very next day, he was. 

You think that’s enough for you, but Dabi knows it’s too much for him. 

…

The sound of your window creakily opening no longer scares you in the middle of the night. If anything, it brings you a sick sense of comfort. 

Dabi slides through your living room balcony with ease, far too familiar with the routine of navigating your apartment in the dark. It does the job for him—keeps him out of the cold, gives him a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head. He finds that he enjoys the perks of your shitty building complex. 

Oh, and you're there, too. But, he swears that has nothing to do with the magnetic urge that keeps pulling him back to the fire escape on the fourth floor that remains unlocked. 

He opens your cabinets in search of something, anything, to fill his stomach in the slightest. He’s thin, almost alarmingly so, if you didn't know him—didn’t know his body is constantly working against him, eagerly taking the destruction he so carelessly puts it through.

Your sudden voice doesn't scare him. He doesn't so much as flinch at your clear tone in the silence of your home. 

“Cremation.” 

He briefly looks at you over his shoulder, humorously expressionless, before turning his back to you and rummaging through the cabinet again. 

“Gesundheit,” he scoffs.  

“It’s what your name means,” you breathe, tone still devoid of any emotion he can detect—or deflect. 

The realization burns him like his quirk, oddly painless but still alarmingly there. He holds his breath without realizing it, and its not until he coughs that he mindlessly exhales. 

Dabi. Cremation. 

True, he thinks. It’s no secret by any means, but he still finds his muscles tensing up as if you’d just said something you shouldn’t have. 

He doesn’t let his facade falter as he plucks a box of saltines from your cabinet. “Doesn't take a genius to do a basic translate search.”

“It’s not your real name,” you state, addressing the elephant infiltrating the room.

And at this, he fully turns to you. You stand in the entryway of the dark kitchen, arms crossed and eyes filled with sleep (or lack thereof, Dabi isn't sure he can tell the difference just yet). 

You're not angry. No, he's seen you angry before. This is different, harder. It's almost stoic. And while Dabi can’t put his finger on the exact feeling of the pit in his stomach, he knows he doesn’t like it.

He sticks his hand in the cardboard box before plucking a cracker and plopping the snack in his mouth. The salt burns the cuts on his lips when he sarcastically speaks, “You’re on fire with the observations today.” 

He watches you shrug, expression still void of any true indication of whatever your heart is feeling. The only light in the tiny apartment comes from the stove behind him. He can just make out your silhouette and barely your face through hardened focus and adjusting eyes. 

He thinks he’s grateful for that. He doesn’t want to see the details of your dissapointment when you see the real him. 

“Figured it was a bit too coincidental,” you rest against the doorframe. Dabi takes it as a good sign, you're not stiff. 

“Quirks don’t even manifest until a few years after birth, unless you were unnamed for the first five years of your life.”

Should’ve been, he bitterly thinks. Things would've been easier that way. 

He bites his tongue. 

The only sound that can be heard is the crunching of his teeth against the cracker he gnaws on. After a moment, he offers you one. You don’t move a muscle at his extended hand. He lets it sink back slowly, defeated, as he clears his throat. 

“It fits, doesn't it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one he doesn’t actually expect you to answer. Because his name is all that’s known of him. Of course it should fit. Because when you look at him—his peeling and charred skin and hand that wields nothing but pain—it’s evident that all he can do is cremate.

His breath hitches when you speak up. 

“To some, sure,” you decide. 

With the way his chest tightens at your declaration, Dabi decides he doesn't like your tone. 

He shields himself with his bark. “What’s that mean?”

“It means I want to call you something different,” you ache, but Dabi can read between the cracks you let falter. I deserve to call you something different, is what your heart bleeds onto the floor. I’m different. 

He refuses to let that be the truth. 

“Didn't think you’d be one for pet names, doll.” He tosses the half-eaten box back into your cabinet, lazily shutting the wood and wiping his crumby hands on his sleeves. 

“I don’t see you how they see you,” your voice is stern now, he hears the determination in your shaky words. “I want to know your name.”

Your real one, the lines read once again. But in a split second, Dabi realizes he’s come too far to ruin whatever this is now.

“Fat chance in hell,” he dismisses, brushing your shoulder as he leaves the kitchen. 

You’re quick to follow—as you always are, he’s begun to notice. You're like a mosquito constantly buzzing in his ear. No matter how many times he swats and repels, you come back stronger. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t hate it. 

“Please.”

“No,” he’s even quicker to bore. “M’not dragging you into my shit.”

Too late, the voice in the back of his mind laughs. He’s always been his own worst enemy.

“There's more to you,” you continue to press, wanting something tangible, more from him. “You're not just what they make of you. You're a person, someone's son, someone’s–”

“Don't,” a balloon bursts behind his eyelids. His voice comes louder than ever before and it unsettles you, him, and the floorboards beneath your toes. 

“Don't you ever...fucking say that again. You hear me?” With his finger in your face, Dabi shakes. He prays to whoever is listening that you see it as fury, and not what it truly is—fear. 

And based on the tears flooding your eyes, he’d bet money he doesn't have that he’s right. In the silence of your home, you nod.

Dabi decides he’s had enough for one night, done enough to make you hate him just the right amount to forget about fixing him. 

On the way out, Dabi mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Say something stupid like that one more time and you'll never see me again.” 

…

Dabi is exhausted.

His burner rings obnoxiously through the bedroom in the middle of the night. 

You’ve begun to associate the loud melody with the feeling of a knife—the blade cruelly trickling its tip against your skin. Cold, sharp, barely applying enough pressure to make you hyperaware of its potential to rip everything you've ever known away from you with a mere movement forward.

You never know who’s on the other end of the line, and this time is no different. When the infamous sound sends a chill up your spine, Dabi answers it without a second thought. He wordlessly picks up, listens intently, and hangs up as quickly as it rang. 

Then, he’s out of bed and putting his shoes on. 

He knows you're not asleep, so there's no point in pretending to be when you crawl out of bed and follow him to the den of your home. 

He grabs the remote, flicks the television on, and eagerly surfs the channels until he lands on the local news. Endeavor runs through the barren and obliterated streets of downtown, defending the city and fighting some… creature. You don't miss the way Dabi’s eyes don't blink whenever the hero is on screen. 

He’s too focused, too emotional when it comes to him. It's unlike anything you've ever seen from him, and you're tired of pretending not to see the smothering fire in his eyes whenever the man is brought into discussion. 

The reporter on the screen flips to another battle somewhere else in the city, with other heroes and other creatures and other things that should matter right now but for some reason don't. Because when Dabi finally takes his eyes off the screen to slip into his shoes, you spill. 

“Why him?”

He harshly tightens the laces of his boot, “Huh?”

“Endeavor,” falls from your lips, and he nearly hisses at the sound of the name on your tongue. “Why him out of all heroes?”

He hesitates in the slightest. The average eye wouldn't have noticed his pause, but you know him. You see the way he clenches his jaw and fiddles with the staples sealing his chin. 

He merely shrugs before tying his other lace, “He’s number one.”

“He wasn't always,” you contest, a bit too accusatory for his liking.

“Why does it matter?” Dabi bites. Bites the hand that feels him, shelters him, listens to him and chooses to remain quiet with what it knows. He bites the hand that loves him, and he almost regrets it when he sees your slight shock.

Almost.

His stomach churns as he watches you slightly falter before finding your footing once more. “It seems to matter to you.” 

So it matters to me, your heart aches to drill into his rock-solid mind. His eyes feel hot on your skin as he shakes his head and stands from where he sits. 

“He’s not a good guy, none of ‘em are.” 

“How do you know?”

His grip on his coat tightens in frustration. “I have a ton of shit on him. He’s not the savior you think he is.”

“I don’t think he’s a savior,” you retort, and it comes out a bit childish, like a belief you wish to convince yourself of. “I don’t know him.”

“But you trust him,” Dabi is quick to jump, almost as if you've fallen right into his trap. He looks a bit wild, as if you’re prey in his hands, saying all the right things so sweetly just for him to do what a predator does and hunt. Sink his teeth into your flesh and ruin you for the thrill of it. 

“Cause he’s the face of the fuckin’ country?” he coos with a venomously fake smile. “Cause he’s big and strong and always does the good thing, right?”

He’s trying to scare you, you know this—but you’ve never been scared of Dabi. Not when he’s tried to make you be, not when he’s done unspeakable things. He doesn’t scare you, but he’s upsetting you. He’s being mean, which isn't new to you but still rare enough to sting. 

“I trust you,” your voice cracks, making his stomach churn with shame, “so if you don’t trust him, then I trust you have a good reason not to.” 

Silence overtakes the room and Dabi’s chest burns with bile rising. 

You trust him? On what grounds? What reason has he given you to just hand over your patience without a fight, without a reason? 

Most importantly, if the thought of you trusting him makes him sick to his fucking stomach, then why does he find his lips moving before he can stop himself? 

“He beats his kids.”

The television cuts to a commercial. A car drives by below, honking furiously at something or other. He says it casually, eyes looking away from yours. 

Your voice is barely heard, “His kids?” 

You didn't even know he had kids. Come to think of it, you knew of one boy. Fire and ice who attends the hero facility downtown that's always getting into trouble. Set to follow in his father's footsteps, according to the tabloids. 

Dabi’s face doesn't falter at your surprise, immune to the violence he knows lives within his words. “Wife, too.”

The pieces don't add up in your mind. Dabi’s never been one for morals, not one for evening the tides and setting the universe straight when it comes to what's right and what's wrong. He does what he wants, he’s selfish. So why on earth would he care about a tragedy that doesn't involve him? 

He interrupts your thoughts when he walks over to the front door. The sound of him fiddling with the lock makes your heart drop—because it means he’s leaving, and for how long, you never know.

“Doesn’t anymore, apparently, but he did for years,” he scoffs in disgust. “Claims he’s turned a new leaf. Wants to be father of the year, all of a sudden.”

Leaving before you can process any thoughts to convey into words, he sneaks through your door without a second thought.

“The good guys aren't actually good, y’know,” he warns as he leaves you.

You don’t see him for two weeks. 

…

Dabi doesn't fuck you with caution. 

It's the same every time. Rough, quick, desperate. You on your stomach and him towering behind you. He doesn't look at you or say much other than a grunt or curse here and there. Always pulls out, if he even cums, and always leaves right after, if not in the middle of the night. 

But that doesn't mean it’s not good. Because fuck, it's great. 

While short-lived and based on nothing but selfish, primal needs, it's a private moment of feeling nothing but him. His hands are everywhere and his teeth are never too far behind. His skin is on fire and his pace is nothing short of eager. 

Your back is arched as your face is pressed to the mattress. You feel his cock throb as it swells against the insides of your walls with every rushed and eager thrust. 

“Fuck, please,” he hears you breathily whine, and you feel his smirk against the skin of your back. 

He uses your polite desperation to reward you, snap his hips extra hard and bury himself to the hilt of your cunt. He sits and burns inside of you, grip tight on your waist as he pulls you as close to him as he can without swallowing you whole. 

His tip dances directly at the opening of your cervix, just barely brushing the overly tender spot with a feather-light prodding that somehow feels like too much and not enough. He lets himself continue to stretch you, to mold you, to enjoy the only thing he believes was made for him before he ruins it. 

He feels you repeatedly clench around him as you mewl, “Please, more please.” You’re already completely spent when you plead, “Please, Dabi.”

And just like that, a switch is flipped inside of him.

His grip on your hips tightens, “Don’t.”

He goes to pull out of you completely, but your cry from his movement halts his hips. “Oh, nnnngh, Dabi—!”

In a whirl, you're flipped onto your back and met with a harsh gaze. 

“Don’t,” he growls into your throat, “call me that.”

Frozen in place from both shock and pure need, you airily gasp when you feel his cock head brushing itself through your folds. With a scarred wrist, Dabi swipes his tip between your folds, eyes fully absorbing and watching your expression twitch with every sensitive brush. 

“Touya,” he tells you through a slack jaw, watching your eyelids flutter at the teasing.

He pushes himself into your cunt, not fully, but enough for you to cry in slight release, before pulling out to where his tip is the only part of him swallowed by you. 

“Touya,” he repeats, nearly chanting as he aches to engrain it into your system. So it’s all you’ll ever know, the only word your tongue will ever taste from now on, no matter who is sticking what inside of you. He works to make your body remember that the only thing it should think of when feeling the slight stretch of your throbbing cunt is—

“Touya,” he bleeds. It almost doesn’t even sound like a word. “Say it. Touya.”

And you do. It crawls breathy and drunk from your throat as if your lips were made to form its syllables. Like a holy mantra falling from your lips, his whole body shivers when he hears your sweet heaves. 

“Touya,” is whimpered into his lips.

He holds his breath for a beat, before shakily recollecting himself from his quickly approaching high and readjusting his grip on your jaw.

“Again, fuck.” 

“Touya,” you gasp at his now snapping hips. It’s deeper, slower, and even more desperate than you thought it was before. It's messy and tired and he cradles you in his palms as you chant his name like a prayer.

Touya. Touya. Touya.

He abruptly finishes inside of you, his spurting warmth easily sending you over the edge, too. 

While it was something that was always offered, Touya has never once come inside of you, always choosing to pull out last second, if he finished at all. You savor the moment, letting him rut his cum into you until your both dry with exhaustion. 

Breathing returns to a normal rate and Touya lets himself soften inside of you. With his head burrowed in your neck, he makes a move to pull out of you. To leave, your chest tightens at the realization, so on instinct, you let your legs wrap around his torso, crossing your ankles and keeping him as your own for just a little bit longer.

Without a fight, he lets you. He lets himself stay inside of you as he drifts to sleep in your hold.

“Touya,” he hears you coo, listens to you taste it on your tongue and determine that you like its flavor.

“S’pretty,” you decide in a sleeping daze. “Fits you better.”

Dabi drifts to sleep thinking about the irony of that statement.

…

The puzzle pieces itself together rather quickly after that. 

It turns out Endeavor does have kids—four, to be exact. Three boys and a girl, all different equations of fire and ice and grief. 

It's not hard to find articles on what happened at Sekoto Peak. What happened to Touya Todoroki, the boy who died for nothing, who you now know somehow sits alive on your couch with a bowl of ramen noodles and a wet head.

He focuses on the television before him. A cheesy horror film from the late 80s plays through the grainy screen. His feet are resting on top of the coffee table and the bowl in his lap is steaming. He uses his chopsticks to dive in regardless of its heat. 

Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, you can smell your eucalyptus shampoo in his hair from where you sit. Though his head is still damp, you can tell the color has gotten lighter. While still practically jet black all over, you're able to see the slightest tint of light peeking through his roots. You know better than to ask, but you're sure your guess is as good as any. 

Touya must feel your gaze on him because his eyes flicker to the side where you quietly admire his profile. Through a mouthful of noodles and steaming broth, he mumbles. 

“What’re you doing?”

You smile at the lack of enunciation in his words before innocently shaking your head. “Nothing.”

Unconvinced, his eyes narrow. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” he accuses. 

You roll your eyes out of habit though your heart is anything but irritated, “What, I can’t look at you, now?”

He uses the next bite he takes to hide the smirk growing on his face. “Not with that stupid look on your face.”

He takes pride in watching you get flustered, scrunching your nose and giggling out a horrified, “What look?”

He reaches across the couch to close the gap between the two of you, before flicking your forehead.

“That look,” he declares.

He doesn't move back to where he was sitting. He lets himself remain next to you, your head lightly resting on his shoulder as the sound of the movie webs throughout your living room.

It’s easy, too easy. It’s natural and warm and feels like the closest thing to a home he’s ever held in his calloused and weeping palms. 

And Touya is selfish. 

He wants to grasp onto it, white-knuckled and pressing crescents into his palms—he wants to keep you. Wants to keep this. But he knows better. 

Touya knows that the stupid look on your face was one of love. Pure and undeniable. But he doesn't let himself think too much about it. 

…

The weather changes with the wind, and it’s colder in Japan when Touya gives you a piece of him you never thought you’d get. 

He’s just arrived back from god knows where doing god knows what, but you’ve learned not to question it. You welcome him in every time with a warm smile and an urge to hold him, and he thinks maybe thats why he hears himself suddenly spilling.

“Saw him today,” he breathes evenly.

His words hold no context, no prior conversation triggering his statement. It just exists in the space between the two of you on the couch, and the ball is in your court. 

Your head tilts in careful thought, “Who?”

“Downtown,” he ignores your question, “cornered him for a second and everything.”

And though you know nothing and shouldn’t be able to understand the man beside you, you do.

You feel his pain in the way his eyebrow twitches, how his fingers crack against his palms. You might not get it, but you try. You’ll always try for Touya. 

You encourage him, “And what happened?”

The wind howls outside, and you feel your home settle beneath its harsh hit. The walls crack with movement as the two of you remain seated beside one another. 

After a moment, Touya clears his throat. 

“Nothing,” he bitterly laughs to himself. “Absolutely nothing.”

The tea in your hand buzzes heat through its mug, and it feels like Touya’s touch. When he’s careful and cautious and places his hands on your stomach, treating you like glass he needs to mold. 

“Looked me dead in the eyes, felt my fuckin’ flame, and—” he cuts himself off at the emotion crawling into his words with a cough, “and nothing.”

You say nothing, but Touya knows that nothing needs to be said. He can sit on his couch with the tea you made him and the look you're giving him and he knows he can trust you. As much as he doesn't want to, he can. 

With his head hung low in shame, he rips off the only bandaid he’s ever had for the deepest wound he never got the chance to properly clean.

“He’s my old man,” he harshly swallows. 

After a moment of silence, he drags his head up from the floor. 

You're still looking at him the same, eyes dancing with love and some sick want to understand him. 

You simply reach across the cushion and squeeze his hand. 

“I know,” you whisper. 

And in what Touya imagined to be an earth-shattering conversation, he feels the corner of his mouth pulling upwards into an ironic smile.

“’Course you do,” he laughs under his breath. It's not malicious or accusatory, it's a matter of fact. 

Because of course, you know. Of course, you would see through his master puppetry and barring fangs. Of course, it wouldn't change how you see him.

Of course.

In what should be a terrifying moment, Touya lets himself smile. He shakes his head as he sighs, “Father of the fuckin’ year, right?”

…

“M’gonna do something,” Touya tells you solemnly one afternoon in bed, “and you’re gonna hate me for it.”

The freshly setting sun shines through the window, and you can feel its heat warming up your legs through the frame. The rays feel oddly contrasting to his cloudy day words. 

You open your eyes to find his. They’re already looking back at you, glasslike as they flicker across your features. Like he’s searching for something neither of you have an answer to. 

Your foot brushes against his calf as you shift to face him. 

“I could never hate you,” you softly remind him, “you know that.”

Touya fights the urge to roll his eyes, and you bite back a smile at the agitation wrinkles forming on his forehead. Your fingers move without thinking, using your thumb to iron and smooth over his delicate skin. 

“Fine,” he huffs, but you don’t miss the way he softens beneath your touch.

 “I’m gonna do something and you’re gonna yell at me for it,” he follows up more gentle this time, like a tainted whisper afraid to be too loud in the honeyed quietness of your home. 

It fills your stomach with a familiar sense of unease. 

“Well, do you deserve to be yelled at?”

He softly smiles, one equal parts of happy and sad, “Probably.”

You return the look as you sit on his words. He’s treading lightly, which is a thoughtful change compared to his usual acting on impulse.

He’s cautioning you. Preparing you for something bitter, and while you appreciate the warning, you know it can’t be anything good. It feels a lot like the breathtaking sunset before a disastrous overnight storm. 

Your voice is a whisper when you meekly ask him, “Can you tell me any more?”

And though the look on his face is regretful, his answer comes all the same. 

“No,” he swallows. 

And like the saint you are, Touya doesn’t know why he’s surprised when you merely bob your head in understanding and smile.

“Okay,” you nod.  

You expect that to be all. Because Touya’s never been one for words, let alone more than the bare minimum amount needed. And you were deemed lucky enough to get a vague warning. 

That should be the end of the conversation, but it’s not. 

Touya reaches for your wrist and his fingers dance along the bone lightly. He doesn’t remove his eyes from where they bore into yours when he breathes. 

“M’sorry.”

The words are foreign on his tongue, and his smallness unsettles you. Something feels wrong, like nausea brewing and waiting for bile to finally strike. 

You sit up, cradling his face in your palms as you coo words of reassurance. He feels cold, his body temperature ironically contrasting the heat that runs through his veins. He’s trying so hard to keep whatever he knows inside the clear cage of his mind, but you can practically hear the cracking of the glass beneath it’s weight. 

“Hey, no,” you exhale between kisses to his hairline. “No, don’t start that shit.”

Because while he doesn’t tell you everything, Touya tells you enough, and it’s more than you ever thought would be true with someone as out of reach as him. 

He may not tell you he loves you, but he says it through his eyes. He doesn’t tell you how he has so much respect for you it could swallow him whole, but sometimes, in the glimpse of his stolen glances, you can feel it. 

He can’t tell you what he’s going to do, but he can tell you he’s sorry. And that is something in and of itself. 

Touya closes his eyes at the affection. He wishes he could freeze time and savor this moment forever. Keep it as a souvenir to place on his shelf and keep him company on lonely nights to come. He doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to be anywhere else that isn't here, right now, with you.  

He does his best to soak in how your lips feel against his as you promise, “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

But he’s not so sure, because while you think he’s apologizing for not being able to tell you more, Touya is apologizing for the hell he knows is to come. 

…

He’s dead. He has to be dead.

The screen in front of you feels like a cruel joke as it flashes clips of the scene. Not Dabi, but Touya, on national television—spewing venom to the entire country with a smile. . 

He speaks slowly, solemnly, like he's thought this through. Like he’s rehearsed and planned this all along. He speaks like a spiraling politician, and it cuts like a blade in your back.

You think about the television screens across the city right now.

A family whose gameshow night got rudely interrupted. A cafe whose workers are making their final lattes for the night, sweeping the floors and washing the counters as his rambling mindlessly plays in the background. You wonder if anybody is home at the Todoroki residence, if the television is on, or if it was unplugged years ago.

Touya is dead, and he warned you. 

That’s why he did this, why he planned this to unfold the way it did. He told you that you’d hate him, and like a fool, you told him he was wrong. 

A knock on the door is barely heard over your heavy breathing, and you debate on answering it.

It has to be the police, or maybe even a hero—looking for you, now an accomplice blinded by a mirror you thought was a window.

Your brain starts to spiral with thoughts that make your chest heave.

Did Touya turn himself in? Go down without a fight? Did someone see him leave your home? Had they known this entire time? 

Maybe they were waiting for the right moment to strike, for the dominoes to ripple so they can make their move when you’re too weak to defend yourself. Maybe he double-crossed you, blamed whatever he could on you before driving a getaway car in the opposite direction of your apartment. Maybe he never cared at all—maybe the realest thing you’d ever known was orchestrated from beginning to end. 

Another knock comes, this time more urgent and harsh. And there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable—so with tear-stained cheeks and shaking shoulders, you open the door.

And it’s Touya.

With white hair and soggy clothes, he stands in the hallway of your crumby apartment complex.

You want to laugh at the irony of it all. The first time he uses your actually door instead of window, he's a new man.

New hair, new name, a new look in his eye—one that swims of something you can't put your finger on. He’s alive and in front of you, and regardless of the anger overflowing your cup, you need to feel him.

So you pull him through the threshold, inside of your home, and against your skin. You feel the wet leather of his jacket, and smell the ash from the battle mixed with the coffee he had before he left this morning. 

He’s here, and you love him.

“I hate you,” your cries vibrate against his chest as you weakly push and punch at his shoulders. “I hate you, I fucking hate you.”

Touya lets you sob into his shirt. It’s covered in your tears and blood that’s not his. He lets you thrash and scream and crumple beneath his hold. 

He wants to say I told you so. I told you you’d hate me. 

“How could you do that,” he makes out between your hyperventilating and sobs, “how could you do that to me?”

His throat restricts with tears that can’t come as you melt against his body, “I would have never done that to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Touya breathes, and he repeats it. Says it again and again and again until it all bleeds together into nothing but syllables and sobs. 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m home, and I’m sorry. 

…

The bedroom is cold, the window slightly cracked open as Touya shuffles your quilted blanket off of his clammy body.

He always runs a bit hot at night, though he’s ironically ice to the touch when his quirk isn’t at work. 

Now on top of your comforter, his scarred palm lays open to you. He flinches every now and then as you delicately draw shapes into it with a painted fingernail. His eyes are closed, but he’s able to recognize the swirling form of your movements, the same ones you’ve drawn every night since he came back home to you.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this at peace. 

After everything, he’s still here. And not only is he still here, but he’s okay with that, because he’s with you. 

“I've never—” he hesitates, but the darkness illuminating the room gives him a surge of confidence. 

“I've never had this,” his voice is pained, nearly softer than silence itself.  

He feels your finger stop swirling for a moment, but it resumes just as quickly as it halted. He feels you alter your pattern, and with cleaner lines and softer edges, he’s able to recognize the heart you doodle on his skin.

“Had what?” you gently ask.

“A home,” Touya breathes, before correcting himself, “where I’m wanted.”  

You smile and Touya feels so loved he nearly makes himself sick. He feels so held, so wanted, so right in your bed and beneath your delicate fingertips. 

The stranger in your home. The outlaw who smells of your perfume. The boy who never got a second chance, but the man who got a third.

Touya has so much love for you that he doesn't know where to put it all.

But for a moment, when he looks at your smile and feels your fingertip tracing his palm, he sees it as you offering your open arms to hold any excess he can’t carry. 

He feels you grin against the scarring of his wrist. 

“Well,” you kiss the tender spot where skin meets stitching, “you might wanna get used to it.”

[lenaboskow]

HELPPP

https://x.com/buckprotector/status/1802246051673358561?s=46

apologies in advance for the chaos that is this post

so... what i'm getting is because buck doesn't contribute monetarily, he can't be a coparent?

and all the medical stuff, i'm sure the answer is either yes or he has access to it because he's christopher's legal guardian, he needs to know that stuff. and for the emergency contact thing?? she literally admitted to knowing he was probably on the list, so i'm not sure why she said that

i'm copy pasting this bullet point @mazzystar24 said in a reblog of one of the old posts from this chick because i think it needs to be said again

3. What each role includes differs from family to family so both coparents WONT always be doing the stuff in the list she said they may be more likely to delegate between each other WHICH WE SEE WITH BUDDIE

aside from that fact (we see it in 7x01 specifically), this girl said several things along the lines of "did buck have a sit down with chris during x event" or "was his input involved in chris leaving" and i just ?? yes??? that's such a concrete canon thing i don't even know what to say. buck talked to chris about leaving (and here's my thoughts about that convo), buck talked to chris about running away, buck cared for chris during the shooting arc without knowing about the legal guardianship, buck was the one who found a way for chris to skateboard, buck made cookies for chris' school (that's such a parent thing to do), buck helped chris with his math homework in s6, do i need to go on??

and the whole "how often did buck see chris in s7" thing irks me the wrong way. it's a shortened season on an ensemble cast show, of course we aren't going to see every time chris and buck interact. in fact, we barely see chris at all. the only time we see chris and it doesn't have to do with buck in some way is the wedding, and that's just from what we see. every other time, buck and chris interact. 7x01 when buck and eddie deal with chris talking to five different girls, 7x04 buck watches chris off screen, 7x07 buck watches chris, 7x09 the buckley-diaz family shares a table at the reception, and 7x10 buck talks to chris about leaving.

i just- having an opinion is one thing. but to be so blatantly wrong about it?? come on...

[stellarwaffles]

Ooooo you wanna talk about your ocs you wanna talk about them so bad ooooooo

Sorry for taking 381 days to answer ummmmm hi I want to talk about Ari

I don't think I've really posted about Ari on tumblr so I'll include basic info

Ari uses she/it/him pronoun and is a lesbian. She is a lion lava monster + is 6ft tall

Ari Sunfall is the oldest of the Sunfall siblings (Ari, Ziva, Leo, Daniel, Cherry*, Talya, Dasi)

When Ari was 13 her parents had to go be at war they weren't allowed to stay at home + raise their kids anymore so as the oldest Ari had to take care of her siblings

If you've ever heard Surface Pressure from Encanto that's the only song on my Ari playlist

Anyway um when Ari was 16 she got a girlfriend yaaaaaaay they were t4t :3

they dated for an amount of months before Ari's gf broke up w her bc taking care of 5 siblings was clearly stressful for Ari + gf was worried dealing w that and also a relationship was too much for Ari. Ummm she had good intentions but this made Ari put more effort into hiding when she's stressed

When Ari was 18 she had to be in the army </3 fuck Monstrox we all hate that guy

Ari got to see his parents for the first time in 5 years so that was nice

Ari also got a girlfriend while in the army! When Ari was 20 she dated Kirsten. They dated for an amount of months

:3

Kirsten broke up w Ari </3

:3

so um ye when the lava monsters got trapped in the Book of Monsters Ari was also trapped. Bc she's a lava monster

S1 nexo knight Ari is one of the background lava monsters

At some point in s1 the lava monsters attack a town called Kneadton + during the attack Ari gets distracted by the smell of freshly baked bread and goes into the bakery where Feather works

Feather is Rather Frightened and as a panic response. Acts friendly + normal as if Ari was a regular customer instead of part of the army attacking the town

Ari is thown off by Feather acting friendly + instead of stealing or destroying anything like she's supposed to he politely pays for a box of cookies

Feather + Ari are friends now. You can't escape being friends with Feather

At the end of s2! When Monstrox is trying to possess Clay or whatever + the knights save him + there's like an explosion or smth + they think Monstrox is dead fr fr. The explosion throws Ari into the rocky wall + she gets a bad injury

But um hey good news the lava monsters all want nothing to do with Monstrox + go build a town so they can chill + just live their lives

Ari takes a while to recover from his injury + has to get used to sometimes relying on others instead of always being the one people can rely on

Ari also has a back brace now. I haven't done enough research to say much about this

Once Ari is doing well enough to get a job she starts working at a bar in Burningham. He works a late shift + so she sleeps in late in the morning

This is around s3 btw + also Ari is 23

At some point Eva is adventuring around, as one does, and accidentally finds Burningham. She wanders around town perceiving + goes into the bar + this is how she meets Ari!! Yay!!

Eva is big gay for Ari. Eva + Ari become friends yay yay friendship

Ari starts getting feelings for Eva but she's in denial about it. They're just friends! Ari totally doesn't wanna kiss Eva or anything!

Teehee time for s5 (Ari is 24/25 now. I'm less sure on the ages here bc s5 + s6 were never made)

So um there's the apocalypse going on. Fun! (It's not fun)

I haven't brained much abt what exactly happens around Burningham during the apocalypse I'll be honest so some of this might change idk. I've mostly just rotated the angst in my mind

Burningham got swarmed by cyberbugs + people had to either try and fight them off or run away

The Sunfalls have safely escaped a bunch of cyberbugs + are in the woods. They're worried about Talya bc none of them have been able to contact it at all, but the rest of them are all safe and accounted for at least

Ari faintly hears something deeper in the woods + goes to investigate. A smart decision, surely. You should always go alone to investigate voices you hear in the woods

Ari finds Eva sitting by a tree calling for help. Eva says she was injured while running from cyberbugs + she needs help just come closer walk forward come just a bit closer please

Something seems off to Ari, and rightfully so bc this is a trap. Eva is infected

A bunch of cyberbugs were hiding around the nearby trees. Eva + the cyberbugs attack Ari and Eva tries to convince Ari to be evil being infected is great actually she's totally not being forced to say this

Ari doesn't want to fight Eva so she's trying to fight defensively. At one point in the fight Ari takes Eva's scythe from her hands and without thinking impales Eva, killing her

Ari stares at Eva's body for a moment, realizing what she just did, before running away (the cyberbugs are still there. They chase after her)

So you know how I mentioned Ari likes Eva but is in denial. Yeah so sometimes you realize things at very inconvenient times. Sometimes you're processing that you just killed the person you're in love with and wait a minute in love? Oh fuck

Ari doesn't really have time to focus on that or on grief bc she's gotta focus on making sure him + its family survive the apocalypse

Daniel gets separated from the rest of the family for a bit which has all of them worried but this isn't about him so don't worry about it

After the apocalypse ends the Sunfalls go back to Burningham + Ziva is sent to pick up Talya from school. Ari finally has time to process the everything + breaks down crying

*shoutout to anyone that remembered I put an asterisk next to Cherry's name! She was not part of the family before this point

Ziva returns w Talya + Cherry, Talya says Cherry is part of their family now. Everyone immediately assumes that means Cherry's parents are dead. Everyone also immediately accepts Cherry into the family. New sibling!

After idk a few days Ari goes back into the woods to get Eva + take her to a mechanic. Ari is worried sick that she did irreparable damage, but is hoping Eva will be fine

Ari is not very good w tech + things of the sort, she doesn't understand all this new tech that's been invented in the past 100 years. Squirebots weren't a thing back when he was growing up, so she doesn't know anything about squirebot anatomy. Ari has no clue if she killed Eva permanently or if Eva can be repaired

Eva is repaired yay yippee yay she doesn't have any permanent damage, her brain's all fine, etc etc

After checking approximately 1 million times that Eva is in fact alright + no longer injured, Ari apologies for killing her + Eva assures Ari it's ok she doesn't even remember it honestly so truely it's chill dw. Everything from when she was infected is kinda foggy, actually. She doesn't remember much of being infected

Anyway moving on Ari also confesses to being in love w Eva yay yippee yay they can kiss now I love when girlfriends

A few weeks after the apocalypse has ended!! Ok so remember Kirsten? There's something I didn't mention. Before she broke up w Ari she got pregnant, but neither of them knew

So as I said a few weeks after the apocalypse ended- Kirsten + her girlfriend (she has a girlfriend btw) go on a date at a bar. Which just so happens to be where Ari works. Wait I forgot to say Kirsten's girlfriend is Ari's first ex

Ye so Kirsten tells Ari she's got something important to tell her but like if it can wait til later that'd be nice bc she's on a date rn. So she gets Ari's phone number + address

Kirsten shows up to the Sunfall house the next day w her + Ari's daughter, Sunny

Ari didn't know what to expect when Kirsten said she had something important to tell her, but she certainly had not been expecting a kid

Sunny is 4 btw Ari was 21 when Sunny was born

Kirsten wants Ari to take full custody of Sunny she didn't want to be a mom she wanted Ari to take care of Sunny from the start, she just didn't know how to contact Ari. Phones were invented after they broke up

Umm I made up Sunny recently so I'm still working on this lore but at some point Eva calls Ari a milf

Misc info!! Yay!!

Ari is a nickname for Arson, the name Arson has been passed down in the family for generations Ari is Arson V (Arson the fifth) (Sunny is also a nickname for Arson, Sunny is Arson VI)

I mentioned this when Eva died but Ari isn't good w phones or tech or anything like that she's kinda a boomer L L L skill issue

Ari spent so much of his life focusing on taking care of her family and being personally responsible for everyone's safety that she never. Got any hobbies (on this topic Ari + Talya have parallels. Talya stole the bad mentality and the lack of hobbies + some other stuff)

At some point Eva gets Ari into hiking! This idea brought to you by the bestie Milkisvibin803

At some point when they're dating, Eva finds out Ari wants to be more feminine but doesn't know what exactly to do about that. So Eva takes her dress shopping to see if maybe that'll help (it does) :)

[smoozie]

tell me about your life series aa au 🙏

I'm so glad you asked!!

Let's begin with who I think could be a defense attorney

Mumbo

Gem

Scott

Scar

And of course, it's not an AA au if the defense doesn't have their weird girl co-counsel!

Mumbo gets Lizzie! I absolutely adore their dynamic (from what we get to see) and it is very reminiscent of Apollo and Trucy (for me). Lizzie would fake hold herself hostage and Mumbo would cry because he was worried abt her.

Gem gets Impulse! Again I love their dynamic. Gem is probably the one who screams defense attorney to me most, and considering her relationship with Impulse it seems fitting he supports her in court.

Scott gets Jimmy! Flower husband fans will be pleased. To be completely honest, this pair up was more a matter of these two being the last ones in their respective categories, but I think it offers an interesting dynamic. The cool and collected with the more wild co-counsel. Typically the defense is very uncool and never collected. This one is giving Kay and Edgeworth if u squint (a lot).

Scar gets Bdubs! Fun fact, Scar was originally also a co-counsel, but the idea of him and Bdubs on defense together was too good an opportunity to miss. Bdubs 100% is giving weird girl energy. His thing is moss. All the weird girls have a Thing (Maya is spirit channeling, Trucy is magic, Kay is thievery) and Bdubs's Thing is moss. I haven't figured out my other "weird girls" things yet tho. I am open to suggestions.

Now for the prosecution we have

Grian

Etho

Cleo

Joel

Pearl

I think the vibes here aren't as strong as the defense but they still make sense.

Grian might be the weakest on this list. I know he often gives himself the label of detective, but he just didn't seem the type in the AA universe. The reason he's on prosecution is because he is stubborn and impulse enough to accuse the most likely subject and stick with that till the end (ignore the Jangler incident in s6). Also all of Edgeworth's sprites give Grian. Grian fits the Edgeworth sprite gallery to a T

Etho just feels like a prosecutor. He's smart, prepared, calm, and smug. I could see some Blackquill parallels here. He would also bring a bird to court that might attack you.

Cleo is another that just feels right at the prosecutor's desk. She is witty and sarcastic. It would be difficult to persuade them. Cleo also loves a bit of corruption, a past time for most prosecutors.

Joel is abbrassive and head strong. He is SO Franziska Von Karma. He would attack in the middle of court. He would attack the judge. He would call you stupid in the exact mannerisms of Franziska's "fools". Joel is sooo an overconfident prosecutor who is actually so fun and beloved.

Finally, Pearl. She was especially hard to place. I had trouble deciding between defense or prosecutor for her. In the end I settled on prosecution, but I think it would be fun if she had a Godot situation. That is, she was a defense attorney but switched after some traumatic incident (maybe she worked with Scott before!). Pearl can be calculated when she needs to be and crazed when she wants to be. She would provide an interesting opponent. Especially given her connections to most of the defense attorneys.

Now for our detectives:

Bigb

Tango

Ren

Skizz

Bigb somewhat aloof but silly. He let's the defense into crime scenes because they gave him a cookie. He often works with Grian, who likes Bigb too much to scream at him abt anything. Bigb is also prob like Ema Skye with her snackoos.

I could see Tango similarly to Gumshoe. He often works with Pearl and Etho (PET Mail), and he trusts them to prove someone guilty if they really are. He also gets along with the defense attorney's well, so he lets them investigate, as long as they promise not to tell his superiors.

Ren is giving Gumshoe in a much more "pathetic wet cat" way. He is underpaid. He is running around constantly. He is too tired to stop the defense getting in. He often works with Cleo. They have a similar dynamic to Edgeworth and Gumshoe.

And Skizz. He is excited to do his job. He gets along with everyone. He lets the defense in because he trusts that they are doing the right thing. He doesn't think it's fair if they don't get to investigate!

And finally, the judge

Martyn. I can't explain why, it just is Martyn. Somehow it makes the most sense. Martyn.

[shiningnightstars]

INTRO

Hello! We are the Worm Collective, and this is the host and body, Star, speaking! For the sake of this post, I will be referring to us as a singular. (IRL friends - if you are seeing this post and seeing this information, please don't ask about it and don't tell anyone else about it! If I feel ready to tell you, then I will tell you. Thank youu <2)

More info + DNI below the cut!

- I am a minor, and I am aroace and have two queerplatonic partners! My partners are @eepymallowmarsh and @the-nintendo-dsi (malice).

- I am a system of about 50 or so other people, though I'm usually the one in front!

- I am xenogender! What xenogender specifically? Well. That's for you to know and me to find out.

- yes you read that last point correctly.

- I am an artist! If you want to commission me, feel free to DM me and ask! Just keep in mind that I'm a minor, of course. (I also can only do commissions for Discord Nitro or other various video game currencies (i.e. robux for Roblox, zophan canisters for Pokéfarm, etc))

- As a system, I prefer to be referred to as a singular by other people unless you are specifically referring to the entire system. I mostly use we/us/our when referring to the whole system myself, and the others in the system usually use we/us/our when referring to the system or the body or any of my family or friends or any I own, etc.

- Ask me to tag anything you need tagged, or if you need plain text or alt text tell me as well and I can add that!

If I think of anything else I'll add it lol

HYPERFIXATIONS

(* means big hyperfixation right now)

Undertale/Deltarune (@greyro-undertale-enjoyer) [Fav: Papyrus]

Bug Fables (sideblog: @star-shaped-bug) [Fav: Leif]

Splatoon (3) [Fav: Frye]

Entomology (sideblog: @star-shaped-bug) [Fav: Beetles!!!] *

Animator VS Animation [Fav: Purple] *

OCs (mine and friends) [Fav: All of them]

In Stars and Time/START AGAIN: A Prologue [Fav: Isabeau] *

Murder Drones [Fav: N]

Ride the Cyclone [Fav: Ricky]

Gravity Falls [Fav: Dipper]

Project Sekai [Fav: Saki]

Cookie Run: Kingdom [Fav: polychampions] ***

Hermitcraft [Watching Grian since S6]

Third life series [Fav: Dersert Duo/Ranchers]

OneShot [Fav: The World Machine] **

DNI

I'm not really too strict on my DNI, however — DNI if:

Syscourse (if you're anti-endo but are at LEAST chill about it and not pushy then you're fine)

Pedophilic/"Minor Attracted Person" (not interested. go away and get actual, genuine help.)

Transphobic, homophobic, misogynistic, TERFs, aphobic, xenophobic/racist, ableist, etc.

Don't like interacting with minors

Mean to my partners

Call people crybabies, view crying as a negative thing for everybody to be ashamed of, harass people for crying, etc.

Bored and wanna be mean to someone (I'll just block you and delete whatever you said. It's pointless lol)

You don't pass my vibe check (aka I block you)

If you are on my DNI, then just block and move on! Thank you! Also if you get blocked by me, you do NOT reserve the right to know why I blocked you. Please just move on.

TAGS

#starling sings - star speaking tag

#my art - my art

#other's art - other people's art

#important - things I deem important knowledge

#favorites - my favorite posts

#favorites favorites favorites - my favorite favorite favorite posts

#my qpp - posts about Mallow

#my qpp 2 - posts about Malice

#[___] tag - other headmate speaking tag

#oc: [___] - tag for my OCs

I have so many tags this section will likely be updated the most.

EXTRAS

I ran the blog @mini-games! I have a lot more followers on that blog so if you followed me and don't know why cause you forgot, then it's possible that's why.

Tag me in anything related to bugs please! Whether you tag my main (this blog) or my bug sideblog is up to you. It is my goal to be the bug enjoying mutual.

Talk to me about my OCs. Btw. If you are bored and are curious.

Also feel free to send me any photos of your pets!!! I love animals and I love seeing them!!! Let me see your animals!!!!!

Have a great day/night/timezone! o/

credit for the dividers: @enchanthings

[moistvonlipwig]

ok finished adventure time. my opinions:

gunter best boy

pb best girl

marcy 2nd best girl

martin worst guy EVER i hope he has a miserable time on his higher plane of existence!!!!!!!! get off my tv screen you horrible awful man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"thank you" best episode <333

"princess cookie" worst episode ._.

s6 probably best overall season

there were many talented storyboarders who worked on the show throughout its run but exactly one of them knew how to write songs and her absence was felt HARD

why is there a fionna and cake spinoff who cares about those guys.......

[dinogummy]

Lilac Cookie stimboard ❀.• Cookie Run: Ovenbreak

🍇 | 🍇 | 🍇

🧃 | x | 🧃

💜 | 💜 | 💜

(*ˊᵕˋ*)♡

☆ general criteria, neurotypicals/non-stimming people(these are made for neurodivergent people and people who stim! stimming is not a trend!!), maps/animesexuals, antilgbtq, anti-neopronouns dni!

[autistic-dino]

Opinions on the Cookie Run update! Feel free to share your opinions as well as long as you keep it polite! :)

1 • I personally don't have a big opinion on invocation cards. I think they're fun but they're also just a useless P2W feature that I don't really see much point in besides adding something new for my brain to interact with and try to understand. I think they should be moved to a type of event like Story Mode and they're used exclusively in that so they don't affect other game modes!

2 • I love lilac cookie! I don't remember his design prior to the update despite being part of the game whilst he was still an NPC, but I really do like the new one! I think he's pretty. His skill is quite difficult to complete though! :(

3 • The story mode is nice! It's a bit annoying that it's once again focusing on gingerbrave and the others. I know they're the sort of mascots of the game but I'd really love to see different lore stuff that seems to have been forgotten. There's a lot of lore that's talked about in the fandom that is shown in a temporary event once and then never bothered with again. I do think the mode is very beneficial for new players though, it gives you free items to start off and shows you how the game mechanics work instead of the previous one which was just running with gingerbrave then throwing you into the rest of the game without any guide and with everything all open at once.

4 • I like the new layout for the game modes, being autistic, I love having things organised into small boxes. It is more annoying to navigate, but I know it'll be easy to get used to and I'm happy with it :)

5 • I'm white so I don't want to speak on Lilac's costume or anything! I do enjoy his design but if it is offensive in any way, I believe it should be modified for those it represents!

6 • I really wish jellyusa was a playable character! They seem super cool and it'd be fun to have a character that would slither instead of run! Not sure how it'd be animated and all but I'd definitely love something more unique than just running :D

I'll add onto this later maybe!

[coatl-cuddles]

My warm up for the day got a little out of hand but whatever its fine it doesn't matter it was worth it for the most beautiful npc💖💖💖

[lesbianaloe]

meta so fucked peppermint is viable again you love to see it

(peppermint is level 15, butter pretzel is level 14, only difference is that pep had a level 1 dark choco card at promo 4)

[mlarayoukai]

I'm Rob, I'm an unemployed hobby artist. Please do not directly interact with me if you are underaged. I mostly talk about video games otherwise.

Header by @ashyzzz

(sfw) Art only blog: @mlarayoukart | my characters' tag | nsfw (no nudity) art blog @cecil-cruz

Commissions: chibi and half body sketches OPEN | all else closed

Repost OK to certain websites that aren't Twitter or reddit.

Paypal link, feel free to buy me lunch sometimes | Wishlist

More info about me:

My name is Robin, and I've been a digital artist since 2016. I use clip studio paint and a Samsung tab s6 lite.

I'm mlarayoukai on discord and Twitter. I do not use any other socials.

My general interests includes Japanese video games, mostly Nintendo. Other specific games I enjoy are puyo puyo and disgaea, sometimes cookie run.

I rarely watch anime but recently I've been enjoying bungo stray dogs.

I also collect games and figurines/plushies and Pokémon cards.

Art by @commeowdore

Art by @ruerock

Art by @flanbolt

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Do-Si-Dos and Tagalongs”

This week’s Self Promo re-run is one I’ve always been partial to, and seeing how it’s only a couple days before Halloween, it seemed like a perfect time to post it again. It’s really just playful, autumn-themed fluff, but if you haven’t seen it before, I hope you’ll check it out, and if you have, maybe you’ll enjoy reading it again....

Summary: Originally written for a CS Halloweek on Tumblr... featuring lots of fluff and a pirate captain who can't resist adorably mischievous Girl Scouts. ;)

Set somewhere in the vague post-s6 future, assuming everyone had stayed in Storybrooke and they all carried on from the happy beginning we saw in the Season 6 finale.  

Also Available on AO3 and ff.net, if you prefer...

---

It all began with little Robyn, as it often did, and her wisps of untamed auburn hair framing her face, with that mischievous, gap-toothed six-year-old child’s grin and twinkle in her bright, beguiling eyes – both features that never failed to remind those who had known him of her late father and the bit of roguish bandit his smile never quite lost, even after settling in modern day Storybrooke. She had come to the two-story house Emma, Killian, and Henry had called home for some five years, with a platter full of cookies and tarts, nearly three months past, beaming and incredibly proud of herself as she presented the whole thing to the Savior, her pirate husband, and their Author son, whom she merely called “Auntie Emma”, “Uncle Killy”, and “Cousin Henry”, as a ‘thank you’ to the three of them for helping her to corral and coax her erstwhile little black cat Mac back home when he’d gotten out of the house and made a beeline for trouble, just as his young mistress often did. Regina and Zelena both trailed after her, doing their best to look bored and unconcerned with the proceedings, hands in pockets of tailored coats and matching sisterly arched brows challenging anyone to assume otherwise.

It was Regina who had shrugged sardonically when Killian exclaimed over the deliciousness of the crisp, chocolate Thin Mints, “No need to get so excited, Pirate. We just over-ordered from the Girl Scouts.”

There had been a whole, long explanation required of Emma from her inquisitive Captain once the Mills sisters and their pint size charge had gone. ‘What were Girl Scouts? Why did they sell cookies? How does one procure such delicacies? Which flavors were the best?’ and so on. For the moment, however, Emma had not been able to do more than giggle to herself at her dumbstruck husband smiling affectionately at the little girl and her gift, crow’s feet crinkling adorably beside his eyes – not to mention Robyn beaming back at him. She had sneakily managed to snap a couple pictures of the whole thing with her iPhone before Killian realized, and though Henry had seen what she was up to and smirked knowingly, he had refrained from giving her away.

Emma hadn’t thought much more about the little episode since. As was always true of Girl Scout cookies (and homemade Enchanted Forest-style apple and cherry tarts too, she was quickly learning) the plate of goodies hadn’t lasted long. Henry, fully a teenager and having recently taken up track at Violet, Grace, and Nicholas and Ava’s urging, (‘His own little crew!’, the perpetual loner Emma had been all through her own school years kept crowing happily inside) ate enough for the three of them combined, Killian had the most ridiculous sweet tooth she had ever seen, and she was rapidly discovering her own weakness for warmed up baked goods of all kinds on a chilly Fall evening. Never in her life had Emma been so settled and comfortable in one place for so long, and she couldn’t deny that she was savoring it. So when her favorites, the Do-Si-Dos, Henry’s preferred Samoas, and Killian’s Thin Mints all vanished by the end of that week, she was disappointed to find their surprise treats gone, but not at all shocked. Nothing seemed strange in fact, until she went to dig through her purse where she always kept five or ten bucks worth of dollar bills tucked away for impulsive buys, and instead found nothing but empty space.

The first time, she merely shook her head at herself; confused, but figuring that she must have snagged something at the gas station counter the last time she filled the Bug and then forgotten to replenish her stash. But it kept happening – a second, third, fourth, and even fifth, time. The radar which used to serve her well as a bail bondsperson tracking down skips in Boston had been set off and her suspicious nature engaged. A strange little mystery had presented itself in her house by the sea – and Emma Swan was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Henry was her first suspect, as she thought he might have just figured he was getting a quick advance on his allowance to take his friends for Cokes and cheese fries at Granny’s after practice or something like that. Yet, after watching her son for just a couple of days – and his allowance payout coming and going without him offering to pay her back – Emma ruled him out as the culprit. That only left her sneakily playful pirate husband, and honestly she should have known it was him without even having to test her findings.

Emma wasn’t sure how Killian was managing to swipe his loot right out from under her nose without her being able to catch him at it, and she was even more puzzled by what he could possibly be buying so often that she never saw a trace of, but then, she had never doubted how slick he was, and he’d had centuries to perfect his skills.

The whole little intrigue carried on for nearly another month before Emma finally got the lucky break that spoiled Killian’s secret. She came home early from the station one afternoon; her dad having arrived a couple hours ahead of his own shift to give her a break, and as she turned the corner onto their street – though theirs was really the only house on it as the land began to roll down toward the harbor – she saw Killian closing the door behind him as he disappeared back inside, while Robyn with one of her little Girl Scout buddies in tow hopped down the front steps and out through the white picket fence onto the sidewalk, the two of them giggling together conspiratorially as they did.

Pulling up beside them, Emma parked her car at the curb quickly and hopped out to catch them before they could get far. She met the girls at the sidewalk, and for a moment wasn’t sure whether to crouch down at their level playfully, or to cross her arms and give them her ‘Mom’ look to get the answers she suddenly sensed she had found at last. She went with arms crossed authoritatively over her chest, eyebrow cocked expectantly, not wanting to consider the fact that she must look like some sort of blonde cross between her own schoolteacher-princess mother and Robyn’s Aunt Regina when she meant business. All she said was, “What brings you two here?” with a hint of a jest in her words, even though her stance clearly expected an answer.

Robyn had the decency to flush and look a bit nervous, her eyes falling to study the squeaky-clean saddle shoes she always wore with her Girl Scout uniform, before snapping her eyes back up to the Savior’s with a smile that would have done both her snarky mother and her charming outlaw father proud. ‘Oh yeah,’ Emma thought, she was definitely seeing a bit of Zelena’s formerly conniving streak now. “Nothing really,” the girl tried brightly. “Laney had just never met Captain Hook before, and so I told her it was no big deal, we were tight, and brought her over.”

The other little girl said nothing to confirm or deny Robyn’s claim, though her awkward shifting from side-to-side easily spoke for itself. Not that Emma would have mistaken her for the ringleader of whatever shenanigan was playing out here anyway; that had her unofficial niece’s fingerprints all over it. “That’s all, huh?” Emma questioned, making her tone clearly convey her doubt.

Zelena’s little troublemaker she might be, but Robyn had a penchant for stepping into mischief that was all her own and everyone knew it. When Emma didn’t budge, it only took a few more awkward seconds of stare down on the sidewalk before the little schemer cracked. When she spoke again, it was with the sincere tone of Robin Hood, legend of Sherwood Forest, which she confessed. “Oh alright, fine! You caught us! But it was just too easy not to try!”

“Wait…what was too easy?” Emma questioned, momentarily more confused than she had been, tapping her foot on the concrete and giving the youngster an even more searching look. “What are you talking about?!?” she pressed in near exasperation.

It was at this juncture that Robyn’s little pal lost her nerve and deserted the cause, clearly not having signed on to face questioning by the Sheriff-Savior. She blurted out an excuse about her mom waiting for her, blushing and stammering as she did, and then turned tail and ran.

“Fraidy cat,” Robyn muttered in disgust, the curled lip and glower she adopted as she crossed her own little arms in annoyance reminding Emma so strongly of the now reformed Wicked Witch in her heyday that for a moment she almost burst out laughing at the expression on such a tiny face, completely ruining the serious stance she was trying to hold.

“Okay, Robyn,” Emma sighed, once it was just the two of them. With a guiding hand on the little girl’s shoulder, she walked them back toward the front porch, taking a seat on the steps with her. “Let’s have it – the truth this time. Whatever you’ve been up to, it can’t be that terrible. I’m not really mad, just ready to get to the bottom of this.”

Robyn heaved a large sigh, dramatically aggrieved as only a little girl could be, and then finally started talking. “I just wanted our troop to sell the most cookies – and your husband’s such an easy target. You know that, right? I mean, I figured it out weeks ago when we brought you guys those ‘Thank You’ treats – Mom, Aunt Regina, and I… remember?”

Emma nodded, thinking back over evening meals since then, when Killian hadn’t eaten much and she had questioned if he felt alright, only to have him say he wasn’t very hungry; occasions where she had offered to make cookies and he had evasively insisted she needn’t trouble herself on his account, and again to the odd disappearance of her random bits of spending money. She was putting the pieces together even before Robyn finished coming clean.

“Your pirate just can’t resist us,” the kid shrugged, looking only a little bit sheepish now that she was caught, but not really sorry. “I don’t know if it’s the outfits, or little girls with big pleading eyes needing help, or if he just really likes our cookies, but every time I bring a new member of the troop by with boxes to sell, no matter how often we show up, he buys some more. It’s like he can’t help himself. And hey, who am I to complain?”

Emma snorted indelicately, struck by Robyn’s cunning and ingenuity, along with the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation. Shaking her head in both disbelief and begrudging affection that wouldn’t have him any other way, Emma wondered mildly for a few seconds how she hadn’t known this was the case from the start. ‘Fearsome pirate of the seas,’ she mocked in her head, ‘bested by a bunch of cute six-year-olds with baked goods.’

Knowing that she shouldn’t simply let Robyn off with being so opportunistic and sneaky, yet not really sure what to do about it either, Emma merely gave the little girl a wry smile and light one-armed squeeze to her side with a gentle remonstrance. “Well, it’s not like you’ve really done much harm – except to my pocketbook.” She did frown just a bit there, and Robyn looked genuinely contrite. “But no more, okay? I don’t know where my pirate has been stashing his loot, but he has to be almost out of room. We’ve made our contribution to the Girl Scouts for the year. Got it?”

Robyn nodded dutifully, and though there was no judging the mischief that her hurricane “niece” could get into, Emma sensed that she understood the game was up.

Ruffling Robyn’s hair, Emma felt a momentary pang in her chest, picturing Henry at that age and wondering what he had been like and if he had been as playfully ornery as well. Having her son with her now, the relationship they had forged, and the family they’d become was incredible – so much more than she had ever thought she would have – but things happened occasionally, striking her at the oddest times and there would be a melancholy moment or two of wishing she could take a portal back in time to re-live what she had lost with her son, who would be grown up and ready to leave them all too soon.

As if sensing her change in mood, Robyn reached out her little hand to lay it on Emma’s arm. “Aunt Emma?” she asked softly, her voice as hesitant and concerned as it ever got. “Are you alright? Your eyes got kinda funny and far away.”

Shaking the bittersweet reflections from her mind, Emma gave Robyn another gentle smile. “Yep, Trouble, I’m fine. Just got sidetracked for a minute.” She stood and pulled Robyn up playfully beside her. “Now, you’d better go home before it starts getting dark. We’re good, okay? Don’t worry. I am gonna have to call your Mom and talk to her about this, but I imagine if you don’t pull any more get-rich-quick schemes, we’ll all just put this behind us.”

“Okay, Aunt Emma,” Robyn agreed, bouncing back to her usual chipper self and past the anxious moment with a child’s usual resilience. She gave her honorary auntie a hug around the waist, which Emma gladly returned, and then set off toward Zelena’s little house a block over.

“Go straight home and get there safe!” Emma called after her in parting, to which she saw Robyn nod smartly and wave back over her shoulder. Emma watched her until the little girl rounded the corner at the end of the street and out of sight.

Turning, Emma opened their heavy oak front door and slipped into their home soundlessly, hoping if her luck held, that she just might catch Killian unawares with his prize. What she got as she stood in the entryway, flabbergasted and mouth hanging open, was not quite what she had expected at all. Standing almost directly across from her, frozen before the door into the cellar that until now they had both skirted around and almost never opened – demons purged, but still not eager to loose painful memories – looking both startled at patently guilty, was her husband. Caught red handed, Emma’s inner voice supplied smugly.

“Why, hello there, Love,” Killian finally greeted, trying for suave and “turning on the smolder” as Emma had often teased him in calling it since showing her pirate Tangled and delighting in his resounding approval of Flynn Rider. He would have succeeded too, if she hadn’t known him as well as she did. “You’re home early.”

“Yep,” she stated simply, popping the ‘p’ sound as he often did in his own speech and immediately causing a change in his demeanor, alerted that she was onto his subterfuge. Emma pushed away from the door and stalked toward him slowly, the heels of her boots on hardwood the only sound in the quiet foyer as her gaze pinned him in place – turning all of his usual methods back on him and loving it.

“Would you like to tell me what you’ve been up to?” she queried, her voice practically a purr as she reached out a finger to run lightly through the chest hair peeking out of his overly undone shirt collar and batting her lashes seductively at him, as if she really were some blushing damsel in his original realm.

“Why – uh – whatever do you mean, Swan?” he tried, an equally over-the-top stab at guileless innocence on his face and in those stunning blue eyes, even as she also saw him swallow hard and scratch nervously behind his ear, the one tic he couldn’t seem to rid himself of, no matter how much a dead giveaway it was.

“I mean,” Emma murmured silkily, eyes narrowing as she leaned in even closer to him, nose almost brushing against his and her breath hot along his collarbone as she practically licked her lips while studying her quarry. Granted, her own pulse had skyrocketed at his close proximity, but she was more pleased to revel in the way her husband squirmed nervously under her hungry gaze. “You’ve been discovered, Pirate. Your supplier ratted you out.”

At that, Killian huffed out a low breath, eyes falling as he gave a slight chuckle and shook his head, having known his wife would eventually get to the bottom of what he had been doing, and almost relieved to have the secret out in the open. He truly had not meant to gather such and collection of the things anyway, but he simply could not bring himself to say no to the adorable miniature females in their sharp skirt and vest ensembles, and by this point, he was pretty sure they knew it and kept arriving at his doorstep on purpose. At any rate, Emma might have his head at the amount of money he had pilfered from her and spent needlessly, but surely they would enjoy the spoils, if nothing else. At length, with a short dip of his head in a resigned nod, Killian answered, “Aye, I figured she might at some point.”

Emma couldn’t help cracking the tiniest smile, the whole thing so silly, so domestic, so normal, and nothing like the trials they had faced ever since meeting one another and the secrets they once held back for fear of losing the other they had fought so hard to find. She shook her head, leaning in to rest her forehead against his, simply enjoying the warm comfort of his skin on hers and the soft texture of his hair where her fingers had delved in at his nape. “You’re hopeless, Babe… You know that, don’t you?”

“As you say, Wife,” he agreed good naturedly, his voice low and mumbled against the shell of her ear, making her tremble helplessly to the point of being weak-kneed, the stern composure she’d been trying to hold long gone.

“Well, let’s see this stash of booty you’ve stored up,” she prodded, curious now just how many boxes of Girl Scout cookies he had managed to amass, and anxious to tease him just a little bit more about how he had been so taken in.

Sighing with mostly pretended reluctance, Killian took her hand and led her back down the cellar steps behind him, into the once dark room she had not ventured to for some time. Once there, to her amused shock and surprise, right up against the bars where she had once, while possessed by the Darkness, bound Gold as a prisoner, were stacked boxes and boxes of every type cookie the Scouts sold, nearly reaching up to the ceiling. There was nothing else to do but burst into a fit of helpless giggles, and when she did, leaning into her husband’s side to stay upright, Emma felt his shoulders shaking as he joined in.

Never again would she look at this space and see nothing but lonely dark and a depth of despair and hate. Unintentional though it might have been, Killian had placed a whole new memory front and center.

They ended up bagging the cookies in half dozens and giving them out to very happy trick-or-treaters the next week on Halloween night.

And if they enjoyed feeding the remnants of the last couple boxes to each other in bed… well, that was their own delicious secret no one else need know.

Tagging a few who might enjoy:  @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @anmylica @xsajx @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @laschatzi @spartanguard @winterbaby89 @therooksshiningknight @brooke-to-broch @ilovemesomekillianjones @thislassishooked @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @scientificapricot @tomeandflickcorner @superchocovian @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors @sotangledupinit @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @xhookswenchx @lfh1226-linda @justanother-unluckysoul @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbythesea @capnjay21 @welllpthisishappening​ @o-wild-west-wind​ @eastwesthomeisbest​ @xarandomdreamx @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv