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happy holidays y'all! :D

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the silly master

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crisp glass of water moodboard

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Vamos a lo que nos convoca

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every time i listen to “you’re a mean one mr. grinch” i can’t help but sit there and think “what did the grinch do to hurt you?” because dude just stands there for 2 minutes and 58 seconds and drags the grinch into the dirt

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I love her!!!! East is my absolute 2nd favorite :)

Gonna be part of a two-part image for Dad December. Still iffy on how I wanna draw wings but they're good for now!

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guys how do i stop getting ads for weed I'm underaged

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Don't Look Outside

@daddecember Day 1: Lost in the Woods + "Close your eyes."

Fandom: Countryhumans

Relationship: Alaska & Hawaii & Texas & US

I was staring out of the window above the kitchen sink when Alaska ran in with his winter coat in his arms. I looked over, curious.

“Papa, can you take me into the woods?” Alaska asked.

I smiled, glad it wasn’t something serious. These kids were extremely accident prone, believe it or not. “Sure, I’ll take you. Did you ask Hawaii and Texas if they wanted to go?”

“Hawaii said she was too tired, and Texas said he didn’t want to go.” Alaska began to rock on his feet.

“I’ll trust that you’re telling the truth, and that you don’t just want to leave your siblings out of it.” I stopped leaning on the counter and ruffled Alaska’s hair, which was met with a small squeak of annoyance. I laughed. “Remember your gloves and your boots, Ala. And also remember to tell me if you’re cold. I don’t want you to get frostbite.”

Alaska nodded vigorously, and I was slightly worried that he would give himself whiplash with how aggressive it was. He then ran out, and I followed him, although I walked. I got my gloves and coat from my room. My boots were by the door. I had halfway laced the first boot when Alaska came running to put on his own shoes. It didn’t take nearly as long as to put them on as mine did. Mostly because his didn’t have laces.

“Come on, Papa, come on!” Alaska ushered, practically bouncing on his feet.

I laughed again and finished tying my boots. “Be patient, Ala,” I gently chided. I stood and called through the house, “Texas, Ala and I are going in the woods, you’re in charge!”

“Alright!” Texas called back. Hawaii bid us goodbye with a shout. I took Alaska’s hand and opened the front door.

The rush of cold air made me shiver. I exhaled a cloud with each breath. I was quick to step outside and shut the door behind us, worried about losing the heat of the house to the weather.

Alaska smiled wide, pulling against my hand as he tried to run ahead. “It’s so pretty out here!” He giggled, pointing to the snow and looking back and forth between it and me. I couldn’t help but grin with him, his joy spreading.

“Let’s get going, then!” I began to jog, which was about equivalent to Alaska’s run. I led Alaska to the woods, and in particular, towards a trail that we had walked a few days before. Alaska’s smile seemed to be frozen to his face, never leaving for a second.

Alaska’s laughter died down as soon as the crooked, leafless branches of the birch trees that made up the forest created a shield between us and the sky. Alaska stared with wide eyes, and let go of my hand to spin in a circle. He soon returned to my side, but he couldn’t stop looking around.

I tried to focus on the path more than the scenery, even though it was pretty. Snow covered most of it, much like the rest of the ground. My only real indicator between the path and the woods was how far apart the trees were. It left the path pretty clear, but only if you were going straight. It only really got sketchy when there were bends and turns.

Alaska stopped for a moment. I stopped as well, and looked to where he was staring. A pinecone stood out of the snow, only a little bit of its top poking out of the snow. He let go of my hand and ran over to pick up the pinecone. When he returned to my side, he held it up to me like a prize.

“Papa, look, I found something!” He cheered. I couldn’t help but to smile and crouch down to get a closer look. Alaska stopped holding it up and cradled the pinecone in his hands. “Isn’t it cool?”

“It’s very cool,” I responded, unsure how else to tell Alaska that I liked the pinecone too. “Do you wanna take it home?”

Alaska nodded and hummed “Mhm!”

“Well, let’s finish walking first, then we can go home. I think Hawaii would like to see it.” I almost stood up, but something behind Alaska had caught my attention. I only caught a glimpse of it, and it was in my peripheral vision, but I definitely saw movement. I looked up.

It looked like there were birch trunks moving on their own, as if they were the jointless legs of some freakishly tall creature. I was confused for a minute, but then it hit me.

Alaska he tried looking behind himself to see what I was looking at. I covered his eyes and gently turned his head back to face me.

“Papa, what’s happening?” Alaska’s voice trembled, if only slightly, and I just prayed that he wouldn’t try to fight me on this before we got home.

“I can explain when we get back, but for now, please listen to me,” I whispered. Alaska nodded, and he held the pinecone tighter. “Close your eyes. Do not open them until I tell you to, okay?” He nodded again, and I hesitantly took my hand away from his eyes. They were closed.

I picked Alaska up. I turned around, then closed my own eyes. There were very few turns in the trail so far, so it wasn’t too precarious. Still, there was risk. I took a deep breath and began to pray that we didn’t walk off the path.

“What’re y'all doing? You’ve been gone for an hour!” Texas shouted, and I opened my eyes. Texas was standing in the doorway of the house, and I sighed in relief. I ran to Texas and ushered him back inside.

“I’ll explain in a minute, alright? Just- I’ve got to make sure we’re safe. There’s things out in the woods, and we just need to take precautions, is all.” I knew I sounded panicked, but I had a hard time focusing on keeping myself sounding calm when I was on the verge of panicking.

Texas gave me a strange look but didn’t question it. He backed away from the door as I stumbled inside with Alaska still in my arms and closed it myself. I carefully put Alaska down on the floor, but Alaska refused to let go of my sleeve. I saw that his eyes were still tightly closed.

“You can open your eyes,” I murmured. Alaska opened his eyes, and began to cry silently. I picked him up and hugged him.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. We’re gonna be okay,” I soothed, kissing his forehead. Alaska held onto me, still crying. I turned to Texas. “Help me close the blinds, and tell Hawaii to not look out the windows.”

“What if she fights me on it?” Texas asked, crossing his arms.

“Just say I told her not to.” I walked to the nearest window. “Come on.”

He ran to wherever Hawaii was and told her. She didn’t fight back, at least not loud enough to be heard, so he helped me close the rest of the blinds. After we were done, I asked him and Hawaii to wait in the main room. I followed them shortly after.

“Okay, what’s happening?” Texas asked.

Hawaii nodded. “Yeah! You’re being weird.”

I sighed and sat on the floor with them, even though there was a couch available. The kids were weird like that. Alaska still held onto me. “Look, there’s… creatures in the woods that are only mean when you look them in the eyes. Your Uncle Canada said they weren’t going to be anywhere close to here, but he was wrong, and they’re nearby.” Hawaii glanced at the window. “But if we stay inside and keep the blinds closed, we’ll be fine. It’ll only be for a few days, I promise.”

Hawaii nodded again, and Texas didn’t give any response. Alaska let go of me, but didn’t ask to be put back on the floor.

“Do we have Monopoly?” Hawaii murmured, breaking the silence. She fiddled with her hands.

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we do. I’ll get it out. Who wants to be banker?”

“Me!” Texas and Hawaii shouted in unison. Thet glared at each other, and I laughed.

“Rock paper scissors for banker,” I told them. “Best of three.”

After about two hours of arguing over who owned what property and how much to tax someone, as well as winning conditions, the game had finally concluded. Hawaii and Alaska were both tired at that point, and went to their bedroom to take a nap. Texas and I were tasked with putting the game away.

“You weren’t telling the whole truth to them,” Texas said, making sure he had all of the property cards. “They’re little, I get that, but you can tell me.”

I hesitated at first. I paused counting the little green and red houses and looked up at him. “I wasn’t,” I admitted. “Those creatures… they’re tall. They have jointless legs that look like the birch trees out there. If you look them in the face, which sort of looks like a branch, they’ll try to crush you.” I gathered the little pieces in my hands and put them in their place in the box. “They have to stay in the forest, unless they’ve been looked at. Clearings, like where we are, are safe unless they’re mad.”

Texas hummed. “Can’t you fight em?”

I scoffed, halfway between a laugh. “No, no. These things are tough. You can burn them, sure, but they’ve got thick skin. Nothing can really get through it. They weigh a lot, too. It doesn’t help that they can track you better than a hound.” I looked up at him. “Fighting them is basically a death wish, unless you can aim and run with your eyes closed in the woods.”

He looked at the closed blinds, then looked back at me. “And we’re safe here, right?”

“Safe as we can be.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me. They hate clearings as much as they hate being looked at.”

Texas smiled, and I felt relief wash through me. "Alrighty."

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god I love being able to filter/block tags

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Red son when heaven courtnapped his crush before he could

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No Matter if You're Here or Not

@daddecember Day 5: Stars + "You're just like I remember."

Fandom: Countryhumans

Relationship: Russia & USSR

Russia climbed the stairs to the top of his apartment. The biting wind pierced his jacket, but Russia couldn’t bring himself to care. He pressed himself into a random corner made by whatever those things on top of the apartment were and took off his ushanka. Then he tilted his head back and stared at the sky.

He tried to find at least one recognizable star, but it was hard when the light pollution and clouds blocked most of them. That merely miffed Russia, as his thoughts raced around and tried to turn right on the race track.

His hands balled into fists. Russia hit the back of his head on the metal box. His neck became sore and his eyes strained, but he pushed those issues aside.

“I miss you. A little.” Russia began to mumble. He didn’t know why he was speaking verbally when thinking could do the trick. Maybe it felt more real. Maybe it felt like he was actually talking to him again. Russia traced the red star on his hat with his thumb. The golden paint was chipping by now. “It’s been thirty years, hasn’t it?”

He paused. “Thirty years,” he echoed, quieter. It didn’t feel real anymore. He hardly felt real anymore. Control was a dream he lost before he even opened his eyes.

Why was he even trying? Even if his father was listening, if he could listen at all, would he care? His father loved him more than his other siblings. That was undoubtable. Still, Soviet never cared like he should have. He only kept them alive. If he did listen, it was because it affected the country.

“When did I last do this? Five years ago?” Russia laughed at himself. “It’s still pathetic.” What do I have to lose?

He began to talk. Simply talk. About everything.  About anything. It didn’t matter if he was listening. It didn’t matter if Soviet could listen, or if he would even care enough to listen.

Russia didn’t know when he started crying. He just knew that, when he finally realized what he was doing, tear streaks had made their new home on his face and he was even colder than before.

He stopped rambling to the open night air and merely blinked at the black void above him. Russia stared down at his knees, which had been brought close to his chest. His neck ached from the strain and his eyes closed, finally bringing them relief.

“You’re just like I remember,” Russia muttered. His hands balled into tight fists; pulling at the strange material of his coat. “You were always so goddamn quiet. You were silent when you loved me. You were silent when you hated me.” He felt insane, talking to the air like it was his dead father, but it was also strangely comforting. He never found much comfort anymore. He had caused that to happen, he was sure. “You were hardly there, and now you’re never here, and I can hardly tell the difference.”

He stood from his corner on the roof, tired of just sitting there. His father wasn’t here. He wasn’t here to listen. He probably couldn’t even listen, and if he could, he sure as hell wouldn’t. Russia rubbed his eyes dry and cleared his face of any proof that he cried.

Before he could leave, he caught one last glance at the sky. A cloud moved. A single, bright star looked directly overhead, smiling down at him. Russia couldn’t move his eyes for that brief moment, mesmerized and somewhat excited.

Astronomy had always been his father’s passion. It had always been his most beloved hobby, as well as one of his main motivators for the Cold War. But, Russia found his own interest in them. Not driven by a need to regain what he lost, but by his own passion for it.

Russia’s neck still screamed at him to lay down and give it a rest. So, begrudgingly, he looked back down at normal level and retuned to his apartment.

Maybe it was best that his father wasn’t there. Maybe it was better if it had been just him. Then, there was no more harm done.

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I just discovered foodtimeline.org, which is exactly what it sounds like: centuries worth of information about FOOD.  If you are writing something historical and you want a starting point for figuring out what people should be eating, this might be a good place?

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Trust

@daddecember Day 2: Sick Day + "I didn't know where else to go."

Fandom: Countryhumans

Relationship: US/America & Britain

Britain was sitting at his dining table, reviewing more recent letters from Portugal and France, when a frantic knock sounded at his door. He was jolted out of his haze and hurried to answer it.

Behind the door was his son, and what he could only guess by the rough shape of the surrounding blankets, a child. Not even a child. A baby.

“Hi,” America said, his breathing labored and heavy. Britain stared at him, bewildered. “I need your help. Please.”

Britain moved out of the way to let him inside. “What’s happening? Why did you bring a child with you? Could Canada not watch him?”

America rubbed the side of his face, frustrated. “Her,” he corrected. “It’s Hawaii. The state. She’s the reason I’m here. She’s sick, and I know you can help her.”

Britain gestured for America to follow him. “Why me?”

“God, I don’t know dad, maybe the fact that Wales allegedly has some knowledge in weird healing magic?” He followed Britain to a room upstairs, where a small storage closet was filled to the brim with old, dusty books. “Is it a stretch to think you could’ve learned something?” America snapped, getting a scornful glare from his father in return. America looked away, forcing himself to take a deep breath before he spoke again. “Sorry.”

Britain looked away from him, shameful himself. “No, no, I should be patient with you.” He glanced between the small library and the child. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s get her to a bed first. Then we figure out what’s ailing her. I have a spare room.�� Britain walked past America, going to a room further down the hall.

In the spare room, there was just a bed and a small table next to it. For some reason, there was a chair in the corner. Britain held out his hands for Hawaii, and America handed her over. He put her down and moved the blankets and sheets to surround her like a larger, half swaddle, just to keep her in place.

“How sick is she?” Britain asked.

America froze momentarily. “She’s got a fever. Coughing. I don’t know the entire list, but she’s not been eating a whole lot and she’s been tired. Usually she’s all over the place.” He smiled faintly before it left entirely. “Uhm, I guess she still has the energy to cry, somehow. I don’t think she’s in pain, really, I just- I think she doesn’t like being that warm. No one likes fevers.”

Britain nodded along. “Well, that certainly isn’t good.” America rolled his eyes. “Do you have an exact temperature for the fever?”

“No.”

Britain sighed. He glanced at Hawaii one last time before going back to that closet and gathering as many relevant books as he could carry. He brought them back to the spare room and handed America a handful of them.

“Look for anything that matches her symptoms, bookmark the page, and set it off to the side,” Britain instructed. America nodded, and sat on the foot of the bed. Britain brought that far-off chair over to use as he searched through the pages.

The sounds of pages flipping filled the empty room. America didn’t find much. He was occupied with looking back and forth between the book and Hawaii, and even then, he was bothered by the near silence.

“Where’s Mom?” America blurted.

“There was business in her own country that she had to handle.” Britain answered, not looking up. “She’s been gone for three days. She’ll be back in around a week, maybe a few days more. She’ll send a letter if something comes up.” Britain paused, then looked up. “Even if you’re here under… unfortunate circumstances, I’m glad to have the company. It’s quiet without your mother here.”

America smiled at him, if only for a moment. “Where’d you get all these books? They look handwritten.” ‘Look’ was an understatement. They were definitely handwritten. As if the scribbled out, incorrectly spelled words and angry notes in the margins weren’t tell-tale signs.

“England has had many, many, many predecessors.” The mere mention of them made Britain sound exhausted. “Some wrote a lot about illnesses exclusive to our kind. Some of the information is out of date, I’m sure, but some of it could be useful.” Britain closed one of the books and set it aside, opening a new one soon after. “My question is why you came to me, and not one of the doctors in your country.”

America stared at the page he had been struggling to read. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted. “This isn’t a human illness. From what I’ve seen, it can’t be. So I came to you. You had to know something.”

Britain hummed, crossing his legs. His eyes narrowed in thought. “I don’t think this is any human disease, either. Until we figure out what it is, though, we have to continue looking.”

America didn’t reply quickly. He thought on his words, and Britain waited with a curious look. “And what if we don’t find anything?”

“Then we’ll visit Wales,” Britain declared. “Those weren’t just rumors. She’s had a history of magic use.” He turned his gaze back to the book. “If she can’t help, we will go to Switzerland. If he’s no use, then I’ll have to figure something else out.”

America was silent. “Thank you.” When Britain looked at him, confused, he elaborated. “Thank you for caring about her. We’ve had times where things were… rocky between us, to say the least.” America stared at the floor. “It’s good to know I can trust you with them.”

Britain smiled at America. “If I’m able, I’ll always try to protect them. They matter to you, so they matter to me.”

America looked up for a brief moment, seeming relieved. He looked back down at the book just as quickly.

With that, they returned to scanning the pages of ancient books for any sort of information.

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types of guns rated by their names

machine gun- 0/10. all guns are

shotgun- 0/10. all guns do

revolver- 10/10 fuck it sure is

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gay sesh