#mystic asks answered

[allimili]

https://www.tumblr.com/allimili/775822310068322304/i-love-the-way-you-draw-the-cookies-popping-their?source=share

Different anon and I can't help but imagine that the cookies always magically fix their phone because they love them so much...or magically enchanted the phone.

extra:

[dragon-curse-au]

Some shadow milk angst? 🥺👉👈

How the mighty have fallen.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Especially Then

Pairing: Georgia Amoore x Reader

Fandom:WNBA-Washington Mystics

Summary: brownies, periods and ACL recovery what could go wrong…

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @zizi-bee-yapping

I don’t cry often. Really, I don’t.

But right now I’m standing in the middle of our apartment kitchen, in a stained hoodie, hair tied up in the saddest excuse for a bun, surrounded by flour, cocoa powder, and one very broken egg on the floor… and I am dangerously close to losing it.

Which is ridiculous, because I can bake. I actually know what I’m doing most days. My brownies have won over friends, teammates, entire potluck parties.

But today? Today, my uterus has decided to throw the equivalent of a Category 5 hormonal hurricane through my body, and I just wanted—needed—to do something kind.

Something for Georgia.

She’s coming home today. After ACL surgery. After weeks of hospital beds and rehab centers and PT appointments.

My girlfriend, the fiercest, most stubborn, most brilliant basketball nerd in the league, is finally coming home. And I wanted to surprise her with something sweet and warm and comforting.

Enter: my infamous double chocolate sea salt brownies.

Only… I underestimated how bad my cramps would be today. And how foggy my brain gets when I’m bleeding out and riding a tidal wave of emotions.

One second I was happily whisking eggs and sugar, the next I was doubled over from a cramp, and then the measuring cup slipped, the vanilla spilled everywhere, and now there’s melted chocolate on the ceiling.

The ceiling.

“Oh my God,” I mutter, half in awe, half in despair. “How did I even—?”

I start giggling.

Not like cute, rom-com laughter. No. It’s that delirious, wheezy, tears-in-your-eyes kind of giggle that comes from stress, pain, and the fact that your uterus is basically trying to take you out at the knees.

I sit down on the kitchen floor—gently avoiding the broken egg—and lean against the cabinet, cradling my stomach with one hand and pressing the other to my mouth to muffle the insane laughter bubbling out of me.

“I’m a disaster,” I tell the air. “I am a walking, bleeding, chocolate-covered disaster.”

That’s when I hear the front door open.

Shit.

“Y/N, babe. Where are you?”

I look up, wide-eyed. Georgia’s voice floats in, soft but tired. There’s a quiet thud as she drops her bag by the door, the creak of crutches against the wood floor.

“I’m in the kitchen!” I shout, voice cracking.

A moment later, she appears in the doorway—and freezes.

Her hair is in a lazy ponytail, a hoodie slung over her frame, her left leg carefully braced and elevated slightly.

She looks like a warrior princess who just returned from battle. And I look like a toddler who had a baking tantrum.

“Oh my God,” she breathes.

I burst out laughing again.

“I was trying to make brownies,” I say, gesturing around helplessly. “For you. Welcome-home brownies. But I’m on my period and I think my organs are fighting for dominance and I spilled everything and then dropped an egg and… there’s chocolate on the ceiling, Georgia. Ceiling.”

She looks like she’s trying not to laugh.

“Baby…” she says gently, hobbling closer on her crutches. “Why didn’t you just wait until I got home? We could’ve done it together.”

“Because!” I sniff dramatically. “You had surgery. You’ve been through so much. I wanted you to come home to brownies and comfort and joy, not—this!” I throw my hands out like Vanna White gesturing to hell.

She finally lets out a soft chuckle, and even that warms me.

“Okay,” she says. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna stand up—slowly—and we’re gonna go lie down on the couch. Because one of us just had surgery, and the other is on her period and spiraling into a chocolate-induced breakdown.”

“I’m not spiraling,” I mumble, still seated.

“You’re sitting next to a broken egg like it’s your emotional support object.”

I squint up at her. “How are you both funny and annoying?”

“Talent, babe.”

With some help from Georgia and one of the dining chairs I use for leverage, I get up off the floor.

I feel like a cramp might murder me at any second, but I wobble my way into the living room while Georgia settles onto the L-shaped couch.

I grab my heating pad, plug it in, and then slowly curl up on the side of the L that doesn’t touch her leg. I press the warm pad to my stomach and let out a sigh of relief.

She pulls a blanket over both of us and holds her arm out.

“C’mere.”

“Won’t I bump your knee?”

“Not if you cuddle like the little spoon you are.”

I narrow my eyes. “That’s slander.”

But I scoot over anyway, carefully tucking myself into her side, draping my arm over her stomach.

I’m close enough to smell her shampoo—vanilla and something herbal—and the tension in my body starts to unravel.

Her fingers find my hair. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“I was trying to be romantic,” I murmur.

“And you were,” she says. “Like, aggressively romantic. The kitchen’s seen things. But I love you for it.”

My eyes flutter closed. “Even with chocolate in my hair?”

She presses a kiss to my temple. “Especially then.”

I giggle softly, and before I know it, the warmth of her, the heating pad, the softness of the couch—it all pulls me under. My body needed this. She did too.

When I wake up, the sun is lower, casting golden light across the living room. The clock reads 6:21 p.m. and Georgia’s still sleeping beside me, her hand loosely curled around mine.

I shift carefully, turning toward her. “Hey,” I whisper, brushing hair out of her face.

She blinks awake slowly. “Mmm… Did we nap?”

“Like champions.”

She stretches slightly. “How’s your stomach?”

“Still waging war. But less violently.”

“Good.” She yawns. “You wanna try again?”

I blink. “You mean—brownies?”

She nods. “You’re not allowed to do it alone this time. I refuse to let a cocoa powder apocalypse happen again.”

I sit up with a groan, then look down at myself. “I’m covered in dried batter.”

She shrugs. “I love you anyway.”

“I’m gonna marry you,” I say without thinking.

She grins. “You better.”

Thirty minutes later, the kitchen is much more manageable. We cleaned up the major disaster before starting again.

Georgia sits at the counter, leg elevated on a stool, a mixing bowl in her lap while I measure out ingredients with a little more focus this time.

“Okay,” I say, “melted butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla go first.”

Georgia hums. “You know, this feels like those cooking shows where the wife knows what she’s doing and the husband just eats the raw batter.”

I laugh. “Are you saying you’re the husband?”

“Absolutely. In this kitchen? Fully helpless.”

She does manage to stir the wet ingredients while I mix the dry ones: cocoa powder, flour, salt. When I lean over to scrape the last bit of flour into the bowl, Georgia grabs my wrist gently.

“You sure you’re okay?”

I pause, heart softening. “Yeah. I was overwhelmed earlier, but I think I just needed you.”

She smiles. “Well. I’m not going anywhere.”

I kiss her cheek. “Good.”

We fold everything together, pour the batter into the pan, sprinkle sea salt on top, and finally slide the tray into the oven. I set the timer and slump against the counter.

“You survived,” Georgia teases.

“Barely,” I mutter. “If this batch turns out burnt, I’m giving up on baking forever.”

“Liar.”

“I am.”

She pats her lap. “C’mere, chef.”

I glance at her brace. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Just lean on the good leg.”

I settle on the stool beside her, curling into her side again, and we sit there in our cocoa-scented kitchen, wrapped in warmth and recovery.

And when the timer dings and we pull out the most perfect-looking brownies I’ve ever made, she takes one bite and grins.

“These taste like love.”

“Good,” I say, biting into mine. “Because I almost bled to death making them.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[fae-cookie-run-madness]

Noww I need to see a comic where Mystic flour trains warriors and they find out that she could kill the king if she wanted to

After so many years of being married to Dark Cacao, she easily picks up the skills to use to a weapon, she just rarely ever wants too.

Also this

[1vylili3s]

i wonder how the rest of the ancients or beasts are doing rn

meeting pt. 10

[dreamweave01]

In your April meets the turtles post, you said the brothers' timlines were unnaturally tied to Mikey's. Does this mean he was supposed to find these Bad Ending versions of his brothers– who had no family left– so he could adopt them as his own brothers? And if so, what is the force behind the scenes orchestrating this 'reunion'? Ancestors? A cosmic being? The timelines having their own way of ordering themselves? Or is it just an anomaly?...How much does this matter to the overall story? Am I just being pedantic at this point?

This dives deep into how I personally interpret the multiverse and alternate timelines, my own headcanons and all that jazz, so allow me a moment to attempt to elaborate on this XD

To me, it seems reasonable to assume that the multiverse is a bit of a fragile thing. Powerful and tough in its own right, but it can only deal with so much stress before it just breaks.

So in my mind, I like to think that physically, this AU is a bit. . . weird. In comparison to other AU's mechanical structure that is.

Most other universes deal with just one timeline. There are certain instances of course where maybe two timelines cross over to one another, merging together to become one (ex. the whole Casey Jr situation in the movie.)

I would assume there would've been a few minor, hardly noticeable repercussions, but it wasn't enough to cause any serious issues to the overall universe.

My AU? It has four coexisting timelines, each with their own unique experiences and outcomes. They're so incredibly different that they should have branched off to become their own separate worlds; and yet they are so incredibly similar that the connection was never properly severed.

Hence the reason why Mikey was able to find them so quickly.

He pulled them all together, causing a multiversal anomaly.

Scientifically speaking, it shouldn't even be possible. That kind of strain would normally cause a cataclysmic collapsion that wouldn't just destroy all four timelines -

- It would essentially create a wormhole more powerful than space and time itself, leaving nothing left of this world.

But that never happened.

When Michelangelo returned home with his brothers, out of the three parents' reactions, Baron Draxum's was probably the most. . . explosive.

Not out of anger of course, but out of shock and maybe a bit of fear. Being the kind of guy that he is, he's done his fair share of research on the multiverse. He knows what should have happened when Mikey didn't, and has been searching for answers since the day the boys arrived.

Why hadn't everything completely fallen apart??

He found the answer when he decided to examine the timeline itself.

Draxum discovered the reason why the timeline hadn't completely collapsed was because an immense power source was stabilizing everything.

And not just a power source - a living, breathing, intelligent life form, channelling an unbelievable amount of mystic energy unlike anything he had ever come across before.

Any little information given in ancient writings about this unknown being was cryptic and impossible to make out.

But in one old Japanese scroll, worn by time, Draxum was able to find one key note:

神秘的な戦士。 (Shinpi tekina senshi.)

一族の末っ子。 (Ichizoku no suekko.)

最後の浪人。(Saigo no rōnin.)

You ask if Mikey was always meant to find these "bad endings," and I suppose it depends on whether the viewer believes in fate or not.

Do I believe Mikey was meant to?

Yes.

Yes I do.

[lilyrayaya]

I had an idea when I saw your drawings of the past beats/fallen hero’s, the idea is mostly like an ancient beast swap, but instead of the beats actually corrupting they ask the witches for a new chance feeling they can’t take their roles anymore so that’s how they get into beast yeast into a slumber, and for most of the story in cookie run kingdom to stay the same but white lily is the first corrupted ancient only for the rest to follow so the soul jams could break and become purified and sending the ancients into a slumber as the beats wake from their slumber to see the destruction of earth bread, just an idea though, it could be explained or expanded on.

It feels like something highly unlikely with how devoted the fallen heroes are to their roles and duties. They'll be incredibly burnt out but they'll still do what they have to until everything breaks down completely. Buuttt, ,, I do really like the thought of ancients corrupting. Beast of Greed Golden Cheese Cookie my most beloved :heart:

Anywho. Go my yap blast!!!

I hope you don't mind I tweaked the ask a little to my liking

If the fallen heroes or. The Five Saviours as I call them in Past Beasts AU were to ever recline from their duties it would be somewhere at the start of their supposed corruption. They'd realise that... Well. Things aren't going nearly as they're supposed to. They're all weary and tired, their duties bore or disappoint them. They just... They need a break. Cookies are doing well, right? Nothing would happen if they left for a few years... After all, surely all this work they've done, it wouldn't be in vain! All of their teachings and guidance, Cookies have recorded all of it, to be passed on for eons to come!

So. They'd ask the Gods to have their rest. The souljams would likely stay with them, given that this power should NOT be just given around. And so would begin their break. If it comes around to the beasts, their sleep would last for at least an eon. They were assigned a specific place in the land of Beast-Yeast, where they rest their weary souls, guarded by the Faeries, destined to return when the world needs them most.

At some point, others would realise that Cookies... Well. They're not doing too well. Without the sudden guidance of the five saviours, the world would slowly begin to deteriorate. The Cookies have been incredibly reliant on their heroes, and without them the world becomes darker. Sure. The Five Saviours would try and prepare them for their absence, but seems like it wasn't enough after all. So, a decision would be made. To give the souljam to another set of five cookies. Ones worthy of their title of souljam bearers, the purest of the purest.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

White Lily Cookie

Dark Cacao Cookie

Hollyberry Cookie

Golden Cheese Cookie

They would be the ones to substitute for the slumbering Five Saviours. They would become the Five New Heroes. Bestowed with a part of the original souljams,

Light of Truth

Light of Freedom

Light of Resolution

Light of Passion

Light of Abundance

They would become the pillars that will now support the Cookiekind.

There.

Problem solved. The Cookies will no longer suffer! They've new heroes to rely on. Not the same, not nearly as influential, sure, but they'll be there to help.

Alas.

Even the purest of souls crumble when faced with such unimaginable power. One by one, they all began to corrupt. Apathy, Greed, Ignorance, Irrationality, Supremacy (Iiiiimmmm gonna have to work more on those. They're temporary for now.). The chosen ones have become fallen. They no longer obeyed to their duty, no longer were a support. They plunged the world into chaos and discord.

The light of freedom, White Lily Cookie, right before her imminent corruption, has split into two after a certain incident, one part of her remained pure, uncorrupt, while the other fell even lower. Alas, without her light, White Lily Cookie was unable to stay awake for the corruption of her dear friends.

One day, she will awaken, and with her, The Five Slumbering Saviours.

____________________________

Anyway sorry for all that yapping I got a little excited. Have a doodle

"I heard we have substitutes now, I wonder how they're doing..."

"... Oh!"

"Well that's not good."

[hitwiththefandomz]

When does Donnie get his Dragon and do Karai Splinter And April get/Have their own Ninpo Dragon

So the non spoiler answer is soon ^v−☆

I talk about splinter here, and April here

Spoilers!!! (???)⬇️

So in terms of ninpo/ mystic magic, Donnie is a very “seeing is believing”. Mans is logical and a scientist at heart. Seeing your brothers nab some magical weapons and get draconic copies of themselves that literally break every rule in the book, on top of everything that happens in the first episode of the show??? That’s a lot going on in bros head

So Donnie is too frazzled wrapping his head around the whole thing to even think about the possibility that he would be in the same situation. And when he does, he doesn’t have the same confidence/ situation as his brothers

He’s hesitant, curious, a bit jealous of how easily his brothers jumped into the situation, and a tad scared. To Donnie this is more than a cool weapon or little buddy. This is a discovery ✨

When it comes to Donnie, he needs to first accept the idea he might also have a connection to this “ninpo” and then connect with this new mysterious extension of himself

Kari is a bit of a question mark for me. Her character is so interesting and unique in the rise show but she’s kind of there then gone quickly

It’s kind of to early to tell what relationship she would have with the AU, If I ever incorporated her into the story that is

Thank you for the questions! Believe me guys, I’m cooking and figuring out the AU (-v-)

[razztazzel]

Who are your favorite cookies?

Shadow milk

And wind archer i genuinely really really like wind archer just as much as shadowmilk

But also burning spice and mystic flour cause together they’re red white and blue GOD BLESS AMERICA

[cuppajj]

Would Saint Vanilla ever team up w/ Mystic Flour? Cause their goals are pretty similar (turn everyone into flour to make a perfect world of apathy and purify the sin from everyone by making them go bye bye)

Also!!! In one if your posts, you mentioned something about little specks or whatever that were the remains of the ppl Saint "purified", do you have in mind what exactly happens to a cookie's body after purification other than it becoming those specks? Like, is he also turning them into flour or is he just crumbling them?

If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me about Saint and Flour /ref /lh

Their powers are different. Saint doesn’t turn them into flour, since he uses light magic. The body dissolves into light particles that disappear into the air. Those particles that remain eventually vanish as well, though it’s unsure rn if those are still the remnants of the cookies or just a side effect of Saint’s magic/aura (there’s a chance the sparkles are in the air wherever he is).

Is it akin to turning to flour, or crumbling outright? While I may say it’s more of the latter, who knows how Saint’s powers truly work, and what really happens. Not even he may know the extent of them

[paintpaintpaintman]

Dropkick your spouses my Leader, it'll be funny

I will miss this ask in my ask box dearly

YOU GOT IT, ANON!

Absolutely did not need to resurrect 4 people for +25 faith but the process was too sweet a deal. Jort is the worst one.

Fuck you Jort, all the issues started with Jort. I was married to Mercius and I was so excited and then stupid Jort took him away from me!!!! If it was someone else, sure. But Jort???? Jean Shorts the piss donkey?????? Who falls in love with a piss donkey named fucking Jort. So I killed Jort. And then I killed Mercius and proceeded to manic-marry Urion and Juulius, but it just wasn't the same. So I brought Jort and Mercius back, but I married Jort in front of stupid Mercius and then killed him again. All in a days work 😎

And now, I live in fear every day that Narinder will be the fifth god seduced by Jim Pickens original.

So 1) all of them died from old age accept STUPID AWFUL HORRENDOUS MERCIUS WHO BROKE MY HEART OVER A MAN NAMED JORT

and

2) I am actually wonderful at naming cultists and do NOT have a bias with names towards the ones I like

[dragon-curse-au]

Can we see a cursed version of Mystic Flour Cookie and Eternal Sugar Cookie? I just think it would be fun to see them as dragons.

sorry this took so long to answer! eternal sugar actually is a dragon here by default; she's the first dragon to walk earthbread and is often called the "allmother" both out of respect and fear.

as for mystic flour, she's not cursed or a natural dragon, but it's always fun to ponder what ifs. she's a bug cookie here, specifically a mantis, but i imagine her looking like longan's dragon form a little - or is it vice versa considering they're her and eternal sugar's child? either way, still a bug in nature

[prettygirl-gabi]

Dance it Out

Pairing: Sonia Citron x Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Washington Mystics

Warnings/Triggers: Family trauma, emotional distress, panic attack, mentions of gaslighting, family estrangement, anxiety, coping mechanisms (panic cleaning), emotional breakdown, comfort, healing

Summary: what’s supposed too be a safe space is shattered by a face from the past.

A/N: this was originally supposed to be Paige x reader….

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @zizi-bee-yapping , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav

Shopping usually helped me decompress. There was something about zoning out to music in my AirPods, slipping through aisles, and picking out little things for Sonia or a new candle I didn’t need that just… helped. Maybe it was because I had control. In the store, no one looked at me like I was broken. I wasn’t someone to interrogate, judge, or try to fix.

I was just a person looking for the right oat milk and trying to remember if we had enough pasta.

When I got home, arms full of bags and already mentally organizing the fridge in my head, my phone buzzed. It was Sonia.

| Sonia 💘: got u a surprise 😊 it’s in the apt

| ps: I’m at film/practice so won’t be back for a few.

| just lmk how it goes 💋

I smiled a little, nudging the door open with my foot. “You always do this, babe,” I murmured, amused. Sonia had a soft spot for surprise flowers or little gifts. One time she left a single donut with “you’re my favorite treat” scribbled on a sticky note. The memory made me laugh a little.

But the second I stepped inside and looked up, everything inside me froze.

There, sitting on the couch like it was theirs, was her.

My aunt.

My mother’s sister.

My blood. My ghost.

The bags slipped from my hands with a dull thud.

“Y/N!” she stood up like we were long-lost friends. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s been too long.”

No.

No no no no no no no no no no—

Before I could react, she closed the distance between us and pulled me into a hug.

Her arms wrapped around me like we were family.

Like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t helped destroy me.

My body went rigid.

My skin crawled.

I couldn’t breathe.

“You still give the best hugs,” she murmured against my shoulder.

I shoved her away—hard. She stumbled back, shocked. “Don’t touch me.”

“Y/N, I—”

“What the hell are you doing here?” My voice didn’t even sound like mine. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe properly.

She had the nerve to step forward again, as if we were reconnecting. “I know, it’s jarring. But I talked to Sonia—she’s so sweet, by the way—and she let me in. We talked for a bit. She didn’t know, of course, but that’s okay. We can work through this. That’s what families do.”

I took a shaky step back. “Get. Out.”

“Y/N—please. We just want to help. Your mother’s side of the family thinks you’ve lost your way, and we—”

“I SAID GET OUT!”

I wasn’t yelling anymore. I was screaming. My voice cracked halfway through, and my legs threatened to give out. “I want nothing to do with any of you. Not after what happened. Not after the way you treated me. You believed someone else over me. You made me feel like I was the villain—for speaking the truth!”

Her expression twisted into something sad and patronizing. “You were young. We all made mistakes—”

“No. You made a choice,” I whispered. “You all did. And I made mine. Leave. Now.”

She flinched. But finally—finally—she nodded. “I’ll tell them you’re not ready.”

“I’ll never be ready,” I snapped. “Never again.”

When the door clicked shut behind her, the silence swallowed me whole.

My throat hurt.

My chest burned.

I couldn’t sit still.

I couldn’t even process the air in my lungs.

I looked down at my arms—where she had hugged me. I could still feel her there. Her perfume clung to my hoodie. Her touch lingered like oil on my skin.

Suddenly I was sprinting to the bathroom.

I tore my clothes off like they were infected, throwing them as far from me as I could. The water was scalding when it hit me, but I didn’t care.

I needed it.

I grabbed the loofah and the roughest soap we had—Sonia’s exfoliating bar that always made my skin sting—and I started scrubbing.

Shoulders.

Arms.

Neck.

Chest.

Harder.

Faster.

I scrubbed until my skin turned red and raw, until every inch of me felt like it was burning clean.

My breathing was ragged, and my vision blurred with tears, but I didn’t stop.

She hugged me.

She touched me.

She acted like she had a right to me.

And my body betrayed me by freezing instead of running.

By the time I finally turned off the water, I was shaking. My skin throbbed with every heartbeat. I threw on an old hoodie and sweatpants, ones that smelled like me—like home.

But it wasn’t enough.

The apartment still wasn’t clean.

She had still been here.

So I did what I always did when the world felt like it was collapsing:

I cleaned.

I tore open the vacuum closet, yanked out the Lysol, rags, sprays, gloves, everything.

I started with the door handle.

Then the couch.

Then the pillows she sat on.

Then the table she leaned against.

I sprayed.

I scrubbed.

I wiped until my hands ached and the air was thick with disinfectant.

My world had been invaded, and this was the only way I knew how to survive it.

I scrubbed like I could wipe her presence out of our apartment.

My home wasn’t mine anymore until it was clean. Until every molecule of her was gone.

I was mumbling. “Filthy. Gross. Not safe. She sat here. She was here.” I hadn’t done this in front of Sonia before. I had always hidden it, managed it. But this—this wasn’t manageable. I was shaking and whispering, over and over: “It’s dirty. She made it dirty. This is mine, mine, mine.”

I didn’t even hear the door open.

Didn’t notice Sonia walk in until her arms wrapped around my waist from behind, locking me in place, trapping my arms.

“Hey, hey—babe,” she whispered into my shoulder, her breath grounding. “I’m here. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

My body jolted at the touch, at the sound of her voice. I thrashed in her grasp. “Let go. I need to finish cleaning. I need to finish, Sonia—please—she was here—”

“No.” Her voice dropped low, steady, immovable. “I’m not letting go.”

“I said let go!” I snapped, twisting harder, trying to break free. My elbows knocked against her arms, and I tried to pull my wrists down and out of her grip.

But she didn’t budge.

“I need to clean it,” I begged, voice cracking. “She sat on our couch, Sonia—she brought everything back with her—her voice, her lies, that smile—I have to get it off—I have to—”

Sonia just tightened her hold, her arms becoming a barrier between me and the storm in my head. “You don’t have to do anything but breathe right now.”

I kept fighting.

For what felt like forever.

At least fifteen minutes. My body pushing, twisting, squirming—but Sonia held on like the world would split apart if she let go. Like I would.

“Let me go—please—” I whispered, defeated. “I need to clean—I need to fix it—it’s not mine—it’s not ours anymore—she took it—she took our home—”

“I don’t care if it takes all night,” Sonia said, her cheek resting against my back, her voice calm and fierce, “I’m not letting you go until you know you’re safe again.”

And then she saw it.

The red patches blooming across my forearms, the raw skin peeking out from the sleeves I had shoved up to clean, the faint welts on my neck where I’d scrubbed too hard.

The water had been too hot, and the soap too harsh, and my skin told the story I couldn’t.

“Baby…” her voice cracked.

She loosened one arm just enough to gently pull up my sleeve, eyes going wide with heartbreak. “Did you do this in the shower?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

I just stared at the stained rag in my hand like it might erase the memory of her being here if I wiped fast enough.

“She touched me,” I whispered finally, the words spilling out. “She hugged me. Like nothing happened. Like she didn’t ruin everything. And I froze. I couldn’t move—I couldn’t even speak—and then I couldn’t get her off me, Sonia, I couldn’t get her off.”

My voice broke and so did I.

I started to crumble.

Tears streamed down my face without warning. “She—she was here—she saw our stuff—she sat on our couch—she brought them back with her in her voice—and I—I tried to make it clean but it’s not—it’s not clean—it’s not mine anymore—”

Sonia turned me in her arms and pulled me fully into her chest, trapping my arms again—not to control, but to protect. Her chin rested against the top of my head as I sobbed.

“It is still yours,” she whispered fiercely. “It’s ours. Nothing she does gets to change that. And I’m here. I’m right here.”

I don’t know how long I cried.

I just know her arms never left me.

When I finally calmed down, my voice was hoarse. “I—I never told you, but my mom’s side… they cut me off. Not all of them. My mom, dad, my siblings—they believed me. They helped me stay no contact. But the rest of them? They made me feel like a liar. Like it was my fault. I stopped talking about it because… because it’s easier not to.”

Sonia held my hand tightly, guiding us to sit on the kitchen floor.

“You don’t have to protect me from your past,” she said softly. “I love you. All of you. Even the scarred parts.”

I looked at her, puffy-eyed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought I could keep it… separated. But she showed up, and suddenly I’m fifteen again, being told to keep the peace. To not make waves. To forgive someone who didn’t even say sorry.”

“I didn’t know,” Sonia whispered. “I wouldn’t have let her in if I knew.”

“I know,” I said quickly. “You didn’t know. She’s good at seeming kind. That’s why it was so hard growing up.”

A beat passed, and then Sonia stood, tugging me up with her.

“C’mon.”

“What?”

She turned on the speaker in the living room and tapped her phone. The soft hum of a beat came through, something catchy and rhythmic.

“We’re dancing it out,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What—like Meredith and Cristina from Grey’s?”

“Exactly like that.”

Despite everything, I laughed. “You watch Grey’s Anatomy?”

“I live with you. Hell, I’ve seen enough episodes to quote Bailey.”

She pulled me into the open space, and we started to sway.

Awkwardly at first, until I gave in.

We jumped.

Spun.

Flung our arms like kids at a sleepover.

It didn’t solve everything, but for a moment, I could breathe.

Sonia pulled me close mid-spin, tilting her forehead against mine. “I believe you. I always will. I’ve got your back. Forever.”

I kissed her, soft and slow.

“I love you,” I murmured.

“I love you more,” she smiled.

“I’m serious. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel this safe in my own skin.”

“You’re not alone anymore,” she said. “You don’t have to clean your way back to feeling okay. Not with me.”

I closed my eyes.

For once, that didn’t sound like a lie.

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                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[fae-cookie-run-madness]

In context of your reincarnatec AU, what would be Mystic Flour reaction to seeing Dark Choco for the first time? Since Choco Powder died as a child, seeing him now as an adult has to make her feel some way, right?

A mix of happiness and deep sadness, she had a hard time hiding tears when she first saw him.

On one hand, she lost Choco Powder when he was so young, eyes full of life and adventure, crumble way before his time, and seeing his face again, now older and harden with time. It just reminds her of what those cookies took from her.

On the other hand, this is her son’s soul clear as day, reborn again and has survived! Despite what life has thrown at him and some wrong turns, he has found his path, found what has made him happy. And that’s all she wanted for him as a mother.

For an actual reaction…I think you would get something like this.

[1vylili3s]

Shadow milk, brother, you should force pure vanilla to meet up with his friends, so you can meet up with yours, then make the gangalang pancakes.

shenanigans pt. 42

[art-of-the-sea]

Hello!! what are the other ancients dynamics with their respective beasts like? Are they also learning to get along or is that unique to SM and PV?

Hi, thank you so much for the ask!! Since we don't know much at all about the other Beasts, it's hard to determine what their relationships with the other Ancients would be like. However, there're some light predictions that can be made!

- Hollyberry cookie, holder of the Light of Passion, is likely trying to befriend Eternal Sugar cookie, but Eternal Sugar goads her into giving in to her indulgences such as berry juice, hoping to get Holly to turn to Sloth as well. After all, they both represent Happiness. Hollyberry honestly believes she can turn the other back, however, an admirable belief that Pure Vanilla picked up on when deciding how to treat Shadow Milk cookie.

- Mystic Flour cookie and Dark Cacao both respresent Volition- however, due to Mystic Flour's apathetic disposition, the two clash very often, and they're very against any change or compromise. Dark Cacao sees Mystic Flour's apathy as an inherent betrayal of the kingdom's subjects and refuses to listen.

- Burning Spice cookie and Golden Cheese would likely see eye to eye at first, both being super driven and representative of Change. However, Golden Cheese is driven to Abundance, desiring only the best for themselves and others, but Burning Spice only wants to destroy and raze. They would likely get into arguments often, only working together in desperation.

- White Lily has the most complicated and unpleasant lot of the bunch, unfortunately. She not only has to contain Silent Salt cookie, but she has also been reunited with her other Self steeped in destruction, Dark Enchantress cookie. Due to her multiple bad experiences with corrupted reflections of herself, she's the most resistant to any sort of idea of redemption for the Beasts than the other Ancients. Thankfully, she's also the least likely to be corrupted- Dark Enchantress is incapable of using the Light of Freedom, and Silent Salt has taken to, well... Silently brooding and ominously watching over things, for the most part. While all three fall under the overarching virtue of Change, she's the most resistant to a different mindset. White Lily is rather fearful of any corruption happening again, which is why she's also rather scared & resistant to Pure Vanilla's comparatively casual relationship with Shadow Milk cookie. Even seeing him simply humoring him terrifies her; she cares deeply about him and doesn't want him to be harmed by the other's lies, an understandable position considering everything.