aww aww katsuki coming home to find you and your kiddos in the kitchen, a disarray of gingerbread and icing and candies spread out across the dining room table.
you'd managed to dye your daughters frosting pink, and she's jumping up and down on her tippy-toes when she sees him, grinning so hard the tendons in her neck are straining. she'd wanted to build and decorate her own gingerbread house this year, but so far she's spent the last twenty minutes being very particular about only the first wall.
"daddy!" she leans her head all the way back when he puts his hand on her face, giggling beneath his palm with her little squished nose. "look at mine, look at mine!"
your wobbly son jumps up in his own chair, using the table as leverage to balance himself as he lets out a squeal of gibberish that vaugely sounds like an echo of what his sister is saying. at the excited pitch in his voice, her head whips around, free from katsuki's grip as her brows furrow.
"he's not even decorating anything," she protests—and she's not wrong; whatever your little boy is doing hardly classifies as 'decorating', and is more like 'eating all the frosting he can before getting caught'. there is a mess of sugar dried all around his mouth.
still, your son squeals in his chair, jumping up and down with even more energy when you place a hand on his butt, in case he slips. the promise of you only encourages him, and katsuki reaches across the table to snatch him up when he tries to get his little knee up on the surface.
your daughter's frown grows; sharing attention remains a soft spot for her. instead of saying anything, she only makes an annoyed little sound and presses her cheek into her dad's hip.
"stuff's gonna give you cavities," katsuki murmurs, though he picks up a few red and green candies and shares them with your already sugary boy—who hums happily. "need a toothbrush for christmas."
"no," your daughter pulls back and tugs on his belt loops, sneering up at him playfully when he pinches her nose. "you have cavities!"
katsuki makes a point to bare his teeth at her, and then presses his forehead to his son and does the same until they're both giggling. "ain't me, bighead,"
"you're a bighead!"
"yeah, 'n i am big, so what's your excuse?" a wicked little grin splits his face when she starts swinging on him, and he deposits your son into your lap before scooping her up off her feet, her girlish scream vibrant and happy in the space around you.
katsuki waits until she calms down a bit, holding her to his chest like a baby, before coming around the table to get a good look at her little pink masterpiece. he presses his mouth into her hair, like he does with you, and her little ruby eyes sparkle when he murmurs, "looks good, kid,"—just to her and only to her.
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Always imagined on the situation where Marik would actually apologize to Yugi and Jonouchi for forcing them to duel each other. Cos honestly I find it pretty weird how everybody manage to be super friendly in the end.
But back at the Irateshipping, this happens as a continuation of the first comic I made. This one is bit too subtle in comparison with that comic, but well I'm a sucker for subtlety, so is open to interpretation what you think what's happening in Marik's mind.
This story will continue on that one trip the Yugi gang do to Egypt for the Rite of the Duel, there things get pretty intense and that only mean bad news for Jonouchi.
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⏝ׄ⏝࡛⏝ׄ⏝୨୧ׅ⏝ׄ⏝࡛⏝ׄ⏝ׅ
𑂴⠀ ֺ ⠀ ℳer͠rყ 𝑪hr𝑖stm͜a͜s͜ 🤶🏻ᰍ⠀⠀⠀゚
__ 𞥊 𝇋 slꫀֺ︩︪igh 🛷 ̼
ᨳິ ׂ 𓈒 𝑆a͞n͞ta b⍺͟ᑲ͟ყ — 🎅🏻 ⃘ׄ ׄ
. ׁ 𝇋͡ L𝕖t i𝘵 sn𝗈︩︪w ❄️
૰ ⊹ J᰻ᥒ͠gle bꫀ̼ll᥉ྀིׅ 🔔 ᯟ
𐙚 𞥊 U͟n͟d͟e͟r͟ tɦe 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒆 𓈒 ৎׅ ׄ
⏝ׄ⏝࡛⏝ׄ⏝୨୧ׅ⏝ׄ⏝࡛⏝ׄ⏝ׅ
Random christmas bios 🎄 —
luvlilac__ on pinterest . . ! 🎀
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I had what I think is idea for a short seasonal ttrpg campaign today: a heist game about setting up and executing the heist to destroy the gävle goat
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What flag?what's happening
I've got enough new people that probably deserve an explanation.
I made that flag. I designed it for my dad, whose projects are endless and always begin with "you know what would be a cool thing to do..." and then end, years later, with fully custom-built modifications that look like they could have been made that way in a factory. The text itself is a modified version of the Programmer's Credo, which in turn is a parody of a presidential speech about the space race.
Back when I first made the flag, I posted a picture here, on the hellsite, with permission to use the phrase in whatever projects people wanted to make. Sometime recently, someone cropped out all the context, so it was just a picture of my flag, and started circulating it on twitter, facebook, instagram, and here on tumblr, without any credit. It'd be something entirely different if someone was posting their own graphic. I don't care what people do with the phrase itself, but that flag is, specifically, my work--I designed that.
It's now been reposted by the Elongated Muskrat himself, with, of course, no credit.
I simply do not have the energy to deal with this. I have therefore quote-tweeted (should I have replied? I don't know how tf the bird site works) with a link to my redbubble and will deal with this later when the muskrat's site seems to be working marginally better.
Anyway. Here's my brother and nephew, with proof in the background.
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