#((someday i'll actively be active on here

[neorukixart]

Hi guys, thank you so much for your support so far! (and sorry for abandoning tumblr OTL) Thanks to your little help, my family and I were able to pay off my grandma's hysterectomy surgery debt unfortunately, I'm in the need to ask for your help once again, this time for my female cat, Bolita.

Since June 2024, she was diagnosted with hyperuremia associated with prerenal hyperazotemia and for months, she has been having accidents with her pee (incontinence). This is a condition that will last the rest of her life and to boot, she has troubles with swollen gums which don't allow her to eat well (it's related with her condition) so she needs to drink two kind of medicine to help her, Azodyl and Meloxicam along with special soft food to aid her kidneys; both medicines and food are quite expensive for me but she really need them.

I'm still offering commissions to get some extra income for my kitty to have what she needs so I hope I can draw you something in exchange! I promise I'll do my best.

Donations are very welcome too! I keep drawing sketch/manga headshot as thanks for every donation so please, don't forget to let me know what I can draw for you!

Thank you for reading and for your support so far! Spreading the word is a good way to help too.

Check pinned for my links and info ;3

[hiddenonigiri]

we are the series: favorite friendships | matt and toey

“But luckily, Matt was there for me. I felt a lot more comfortable talking to him.”

BONUS — what true friendship really is like:

[unovasaved-a]

*Puts The Substance under my inspirations while I hold my head in hands*

[redwylde]

[remembers I have a tumblr] Oh yeah [forgets] [remembers I have a tumblr] Oh yeah [forgets] [remembers I have a tumblr] Oh yeah [forgets] [remembers I have a tumblr] Oh yeah

[dracofelis]

Will you ever open for something other than Pokemon commissions again? Just wondering

oh hi ! yea i'll open regular commissions again at some point, im just having fun drawing pokemon rn lol ^^; (the hyperfix has Gripped me)

[cursed-child-autumncookie]

Sorry if this is weird to say or anything but like. Shout out to the Siffrin horny bloggers you guys make great content AND are really like. Idk how to word it but you're like. Changing and deconstructing a lot of the maybe not the best/most educated views I as an allo had on asexuality and teaching me a lot of the nuances and different types and ways of like. BEING ace and showing me the spectrum there. I might not always get it and be confused sometimes but I do try my best to at least LEARN and be respectful and you guys have been really nice and welcoming and I really appreciate that so like. Thank you genuinely for that keep doing what you're doing over there <3

[medicinemane]

I'm very tired, I have to do everything around the house myself (as in, I keep having to turn the water off and on to the kitchen sink until I teach myself to install a new faucet, and negative cleaning gets done if I don't do it), and the money is in the hands of the third worst person in the whole family when it comes to money (the worst being my grandpa who is dead, and my grandma who blows all her money on overpriced jackets and other junk)

I'm very tired, I have to teach myself how to do everything, and I have almost literally no support in any way shape or form ever

I can't remember the last time anyone said they were proud of me... I don't actually know if anyone's ever used that word with me before. When I do something like get the trailer cleaned out or buy a house, frankly no one gives a fuck, except my grandma who gets mad

I haven't actually had a chance to see anyone that counts as a friend in like 15 years, and I mean even in high school everyone liked me but no one could be bothered to actually ever even talk outside school... so even back then it's not like I had anyone I was close with

I'm providing this version where I totally remove how I feel or how I view myself from the description and instead try to provide something close to an objective description of things

So if you wonder why I say what I say about myself, honestly I think it's pretty much all summed up here

[azidoazide-art]

and an OC drawing to close out the season :]

[saskem]

ʚїɞ SUMMARY: reader is completely in love with Gojo but she cannot admit it, Gojo being a fool takes her back everytime.

ʚїɞ CHARACTER: Gojo Satoru

ʚїɞ CW: fem!reader, afab!reader, no dynamics, independent reader, scared of commitment reader, avoidant attachment style, loverboy gojo.

ʚїɞ NOTES: haven’t been here a while but I am getting my MacBook fixed so I will definitely be more active after that🫶

As your breath slowly returned to its normal pace, you stood up from Gojo's bed—sheets all tangled and moist as his eyes pierced your soul. Ignoring his fiery gaze, you scanned the floor for your discarded garments as you quickly got dressed; hoping to make it to the waiting Uber downstairs. Looking around for your bag, you made sure that you didn't forget anything in Gojo's house as you made your way back to yours.

"Y/N..." Gojo quietly called out to you, his naked frame still on the bed while the sheets covered his bottom half. He watched as you quickly placed your five-inch heels on as if you were in a hurry to leave his place.

"You don't have to go." He said, softer than how he previously called out your name before. His hands clenched the bedsheets, his memories drifting to how you both were taking in each other's pleasure as though they were your own. Mouth leaving trails of light kisses on your skin as he explored the familiar curve of your bare form.

Gojo knew everything about you, from how you liked your coffee in the morning to the perfect spot that could have you moan out his name for hours. He knows you and in this moment, he knew that you were running from something—you were running from him.

You were scared of what he felt for you, especially since those feelings were quite new to you. Romantic feelings weren't something you were familiar with and this alien feeling scared you so much that rather than embracing it—you ran away.

Hence, why you hurriedly put on your shoes, hoping to return to the familiar place that you called home. Hoping to forget the way you allowed yourself to lose control within Satoru's embrace—hoping to gain a level of familiarity and control in your life.

Satoru noticed it too and he's trying to make you understand that he wants you—all of you. Yet every time he makes that clear, you were pulling away faster than he can latch onto you.

So he has no choice.

No choice but to wait for the moment when you’d show up in front of his doorstep, eyes staring deep into his, wishing that he'd be able to hear what you can't say out loud. He hoped that you'd open up to him someday.

He loves you.

That's why whenever you stop by, he has his door wide open for you to come in. His hand slowly reached for your face as his fingers softly danced soothing circles on your cheeks. Satoru slowly leaned in to kiss you, his hands slowly taking off your clothes as he guided you to his bed.

Within the comfort of his silky sheets, his body on top of yours as his lips repeatedly uttered encouraging words. Those were the moments you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. When the moment finally ended and before Satoru dared pull you back in his arms, you were already leaving his bed and making your way back to your house.

"Satoru..." you said in a protest, your hand reaching the doorknob as you resisted looking back at him. "I can't..."

What was stopping you?

"Please Y/N..." He begged

You wanted to turn back to him. You wanted to fall into his embrace as you eagerly waited for his kisses.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Satoru."

You walked out, not turning back to see the way his head hung low, gripping his sheets in disappointment for allowing himself to let you slip through his fingers.

That won't be the case next time. He will show you that he cares, more than he ever had before.

[mimeposting]

So that was a fucking lie

I promise I'll go thru my inbox and post new stuff eventually lol

[mrrwsoup]

I wanna see someone be bitten

damn me too.... here's the closest i can offer you for the time being. someday i'll draw active biting again i promise

[loulouwrites]

CHRISTMAS . TOMMY SHELBY

summary: a tale of five christmases word count: 3.5k warnings: swearing, smoking, allusions to violence/horrors of war, criminal activity, angst, abandonment, longing, loss, ptsd, references to poverty, mentions of death and illness, no grace (yayy). a/n: she's baaack

Small Heath, Birmingham, early 1900s.

Her breath could be seen with every exhale in the small house, the frost creeping along the edges of the window panes. There was a bowl in the corner of the room, catching the droplets of condensation that creeped off the windowsill, stopping them from dripping onto the bare wood floors.

She huddled closer to the dying fire, the last of the coal had burned to nothing but ash hours ago, the last remanants of smoke making her chest hurt, but she didn't mind, too focused on tying her finest hair ribbon around the simple parcel. The scarf inside was nothing special - made of boring black wool she had stolen from her grandmother's knitting basket - but it was warm, and she knew he'd need it.

The cold bit her fingers as she tied the final knot, and for a moment she hesitated. She was not a talented knitter - her grandmother had told her as much - everything she knitted seemed to fall apart with a simple tug, and she worried the scarf would be more different. What if it fell apart when he wrapped it around his neck? What if he didn't like the boring colour? What if he didn't like it at all?

She shrugged off her concerns when she heard the front door open, the unmistakeable sound of her mother's footsteps echoing against the floor. She quickly stood, hiding the present behind her back, knowing her mother would be furious if she saw she had used the red hair ribbon to tie the brown paper together.

"I'm going to Tommy's," she called out to her mother as she ran out of the door, not listening to her mother call after her.

Tommy's house was always slightly warmer than hers. The Shelby's were not rich by any means, but they always seemed to have coal for the fire, and candles burning in every room.

She sat in the corner of the room, her legs crossed as she watched Tommy sat opposite her, his head bent low over a small wooden horse. His knife scraped gently against the wood, his breath slow and focused. When he was satisfied with his work, he glanced over at her, sitting by the fire with the parcel on her lap.

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the small package wrapped in a red bow.

“Something for you,” she replied, a sly smile curving her lips. "I'll give you it outside, it's too warm in here."

Warm wasn’t exactly how he’d describe the Shelby home, but he followed her anyway, tucking the little horse into his pocket. The street outside was still and quiet, the snow crunching under their boots as they made their way toward the edge of the yard.

She turned to him, cheeks pink from the cold, and held out the package. “Here.”

Tommy took it, untying the ribbon carefully, as if unwrapping something precious. Inside was a scarf, plain but tightly knit, the kind that promised warmth on even the coldest nights.

“I made it,” she said, her voice quieter now. “It’s not much, but I thought you could use it, since Arthur stole your old one.”

He was silent, his eyes focused on the plain black scarf, and she shuffled nervously on her feet.

"I know it's not very good. I've never been very good at knitting-"

"It's perfect," he interruped, looking up at her with a smile on his face - a real smile, even for him.

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the wooden horse and placed it in her hand. “Here. I made this.”

Her eyes widened as she turned it over in her hands, tracing the curves with her fingers. The edges were slightly jagged, and the legs of the horse were unequal, but she smiled anyway. “Tommy, it’s beautiful.”

"I'll get you a real one someday," he said, his tone casual but his gaze serious. “A real horse, not just some toy.”

She laughed softly, but her smile faltered as she looked at him. "I know you will, Tommy."

They stood there for a long moment, the snow falling gently around them, before she pulled two sparklers from her coat. Lighting them with a match she’d swiped from the kitchen, she handed him one.

Under the dim light of the sparklers, they laughed, spinning them in circles that illuminated their faces.

"Will you really get me a real horse one day?"

"I promise."

And for that night, at least, they believed it.

Small Heath, Birmingham, Early 1910s

The church hall was alive with the sound of laughter, chatter, and the scratchy tunes of a gramophone playing festive melodies. Mismatched decorations hung from the walls, and candles flickered in makeshift lanterns, casting a golden glow over the modest Christmas gathering. The air was thick with the scent of cheap ale and smoke, a rare indulgence for the families of Small Heath.

She stood near the edge of the room, her gloved hands clutching a glass of lager, watching the couples twirl clumsily on the makeshift dance floor. Her gaze kept drifting, unbidden, to Tommy Shelby.

He was across the room, leaning against the wall with the kind of ease that made it impossible not to notice him. His cap was off, his dark hair slicked back, and his sharp blue eyes roamed the crowd like he was sizing up the room. Even now, dressed in his Sunday best, there was something nefarious about him, something that both drew her in and set her on edge.

When his eyes finally landed on her, a slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He pushed off the wall and made his way over, weaving effortlessly through the throng of people.

“You’re hiding,” he said when he reached her, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

“I’m not hiding,” she replied, her tone defensive, but her cheeks betrayed her with a flush of warmth.

“You are.” He leaned in closer, the scent of smoke and soap clinging to him. “Dance with me.”

She shook her head. “Tommy, I’m not—”

“You’re not what?” he interrupted, smirking. “Not a dancer? Or not brave enough to let me lead you?”

Before she could answer, he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the floor, weaving through the couples until they found a spot. The music changed to a slower tune, and he placed one hand lightly on her waist, the other still holding hers.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of nervousness.

“Who says I’m doing this for you?” he teased, his grin playful. But there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something only she could see.

They swayed to the music, the world around them fading into a blur of laughter and candlelight. When they passed under the mistletoe hanging from a beam, Tommy stopped abruptly.

“Look at that,” he said, tilting his head up.

She followed his gaze, her heart racing. “Tommy—”

“You know the rules,” he said, his voice softer now, almost teasing. “Can’t break tradition.”

Before she could protest, he leaned in, brushing a quick, warm kiss against her cheek. Her breath caught, and he pulled back with a satisfied smirk.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he said. But his teasing faded when he caught the look in her eyes.

“It's too warm in here,” she said, pulling away.

Tommy followed her outside, the sharp winter air hitting them both as they stepped into the quiet street. Snow was falling in soft, lazy flakes, dusting the pavement and muffling the sounds of the dance inside.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone gentler now.

She crossed her arms, staring at the snow. “It’s not what’s wrong. It’s what’s going to happen. You’re changing, Tommy. You're stealing more, and fighting more, and I don't want to be around that. I don't want to watch you go down...it'll happen soon enough."

He was quiet for a moment, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "You don't know anything."

"I know you beat that boy that stole from the bookies. I know because I had to tell the police you were with me."

"You didn't have to do anything," he shrugged.

"I did," she sighed, rubbing her temple with her fingers. "I did, because I don't want anything bad to happen to you, but if you keep going the way you are, I won't be able to help, and I'm scared that this is going to take you away from me."

Tommy’s jaw tightened, his breath visible in the cold as he looked down at the snow beneath his boots. “It’s not going to take me away,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I won’t let it.”

She shook her head, frustration and sadness spilling over. “You say that like you have control over it, Tommy. But you don’t. One day, someone’s going to hit back harder, or the coppers are going to get tired of turning a blind eye. And then what? What do I do then?”

He reached up then, rubbing the back of his neck as if he could shrug off the tension. “I’m doing what I have to do.” His voice softened. “For all of us. For my family. For you.”

She stared at him, her lips parting as if to argue, but the fight in her seemed to falter. “You think I care about that? About money or any of it? All I care about is you. And I’m scared I’m going to lose you—to this, to them, to yourself.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Tommy finally moved, stepping into her space and pulling his hands from his pockets. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and took her hands in his, warming them in his rough, calloused grip.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, Tommy.” Her voice was barely a whisper now, the weight of her fear pressing down on every word.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his tone quieter, more vulnerable. “But I’ll fight for it.”

For a long moment, they stood there, the only sounds the faint strains of music from the hall and the soft crunch of snow underfoot. Then, as if driven by some unspoken need to bridge the space between them, Tommy leaned in.

His lips brushed against hers, hesitant and tender, a fleeting moment of honesty in a world that felt anything but. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, and for the first time that night, he let out a quiet sigh.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” he murmured.

The snow continued to fall, blanketing the streets and muffling the chaos of the world around them. For now, at least, they had this moment, fragile and fleeting but undeniably theirs.

France, 1915

The trenches were eerily quiet that Christmas Eve, the usual sounds of gunfire and shouting replaced by a haunting stillness. The frost clung to every surface, the mud frozen solid, and the air carried the faint scent of pine from makeshift decorations some of the men had fashioned out of broken branches.

Tommy sat with his back against the damp wall of the trench, his hands fumbling with a parcel he’d received that morning. It was battered and smeared with dirt from its journey, but the familiar handwriting on the label stood out sharply.

He unfolded the scarf first, its wool scratchy but warm as he wrapped it around his neck. A small, silver charm slipped out next—a simple horseshoe. He turned it over in his fingers, his thumb brushing the smooth metal. Then came the photograph: a faded snapshot of two children standing in the snow, her scarf wrapped around his neck even then.

A letter was tucked at the bottom, and Tommy unfolded it carefully, his fingers trembling—not from the cold, but from something he couldn’t quite name. The paper smelled faintly of lavender, a scent that carried him miles away from the trench, back to Small Heath.

Dear Tommy, I hope this finds you, though I know how uncertain everything must be. I can’t imagine what you’re going through out there, but I think of you every day. This scarf isn’t much, but I wanted you to have something warm. And the horseshoe—I thought maybe it would bring you luck. You always did like to gamble, even when we were children.

I found the photo in an old box and thought you might need a reminder of home. Of us. I don’t know if it helps, but I want you to know that no matter where you are or what happens, I will always be you. You’re still Tommy to me—the one who carved me wooden horses and swore we’d outrun Small Heath someday.

Please come back safe, and have a happy Christmas. With all my heart.

Tommy’s throat tightened as he read, her words breaking through the walls he’d built around himself. For the first time in weeks, his hands stopped shaking. He folded the letter carefully and slipped it into the breast pocket of his jacket, close to his heart.

Reaching for a pencil and a scrap of paper, he hesitated before writing. What could he say to her? How could he tell her about the things he’d seen, the men he’d lost, and the parts of himself he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back? But as the candle flickered, he started to write.

Your letter came today. The scarf and the charm too. I don’t know if you’ll ever understand what it means to get something like that here, but thank you. For remembering me. For caring.

It’s hard to explain what this place is like. I’d tell you not to worry about me, but you’d see through that in a second, wouldn’t you? The truth is, I don’t know who I’m going to be when I get back. If I get back. But knowing you’re waiting for me... that helps. More than you’ll ever know.

I’m holding onto your words, just like I’m holding onto the thought of you. I’ll come back to you. I promise. Yours always, Tommy

He folded the letter, sliding it into an envelope to send back with the next courier. For a moment, he let himself imagine her opening it, the way her face might light up at his words.

One of his comrades nudged him, pointing to the battered tin of cigarettes she’d sent. “You sharing, Shelby, or are those for you and the King?”

Tommy smirked, lighting the cigarette and passing it around. As they smoked in silence, the faint strains of a carol drifted from a nearby trench, carried on the cold wind.

For a fleeting moment, the war seemed far away, and Tommy allowed himself to feel the warmth of her scarf, the weight of her letter in his pocket, and the fragile hope that he might one day see her again.

Small Heath, 1919

The churchyard was still, bathed in the pale glow of moonlight reflected off the snow. The old stone walls loomed tall against the winter sky, their edges softened by frost. Tommy stood at the gate, his breath visible in the icy air as he looked toward the steps where they used to meet.

He hadn’t been back here in years, not since the world had turned upside down and dragged him into its chaos. But something about this night—Christmas Eve, the stillness, the snow—had pulled him here, as if the past had reached out to him, refusing to let go.

In his coat pocket were her letters. The edges were frayed, the paper worn soft from years of being carried close to him, though he had not read any of the ones she had sent in the final years war.

Tommy pulled one out now, turning it over in his fingers. Her handwriting, familiar and neat, stared back at him. He didn’t need to read the words to hear her voice. He could imagine what she’d written—her warmth, her hope, her belief in him even when he couldn’t find it himself.

The snow crunched under his boots as he walked toward the steps, his movements slow and deliberate. From his pocket, he pulled something else—the small wooden horse he’d carved for her all those years ago. The paint had faded, and the edges were rough from time, but it was still intact, still hers.

Tommy crouched and placed it gently on the cold stone. He stared at it for a long moment, the memories rushing back—their laughter, their promises, the way she’d looked at him with a mix of faith and fear he hadn’t understood at the time.

He didn't blame her for leaving Small Heath - she had always wanted to - he just wished she had waited for him. He would have went with her.

He stood, brushing the snow from his hands, and lit another cigarette. The smoke curled around him, a ghostly wisp against the night. As he turned to leave, he paused, looking back at the wooden horse one last time.

Then he walked away, his silhouette stark against the falling snow. The sound of his boots faded into the stillness, leaving only the quiet of the churchyard behind.

The wooden horse sat alone on the steps, cold, waiting.

Arrow House, Warwickshire, 1920s

The Shelby family home was loud with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. The fire roared in the hearth, casting long shadows on the walls as the family celebrated another hard-earned Christmas. Tommy, however, was outside, leaning against the side of the house with a cigarette in hand. The chill of the winter air bit at his skin, but it was a welcome reprieve from the noise inside.

He wasn’t surprised when he heard footsteps approaching, the crunch of snow under boots. What surprised him was who they belonged to.

“You’re still sneaking off for quiet moments,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the cold like a warm memory.

Tommy turned, his breath catching briefly in his chest. She was standing there, bundled in a thick coat, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Time had changed her—softened some things, hardened others—but her eyes were the same, sharp and full of meaning.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, his voice low, guarded.

“I wasn’t sure I would.” She hesitated, looking down at her gloved hands before stepping closer. “But it’s Christmas.”

Tommy dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his boot. “And Christmas has a way of dragging up the past, doesn’t it?”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not just the past I came for.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the snow falling softly around them. Tommy finally gestured toward the small bench tucked against the side of the house. They sat, the distance between them feeling both vast and impossibly small.

“I visited the church,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet. “Every Christmas Eve since you left.”

Her head snapped toward him, surprise flickering in her expression. “You did?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the snowy ground. “Always hoped you’d come back. I even left something for you there. Thought maybe it’d remind you of what we had... or what we could have had.”

She exhaled a shaky breath, pinching her eyes shut. "I'm sorry I left, Tommy. I wanted to wait until you got back, I really did, but..." she hung her head, a mixture of shame and regret on her face. "So many men came back from the war before you, and none of them were the samw as when they left, I was scared that you wouldn't be the same when you got back."

They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of laughter and music from inside muffled.

She let out a deep breath, lifting her head to look at him as she spoke.

“I tried to find something better, somewhere else. A life that didn’t feel so heavy. But it always felt like something was missing.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and after a long pause, he asked quietly, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Her answer came after a heartbeat, her voice soft but certain. “No. Because it was always here.”

Tommy’s breath hitched, and for the first time in years, the weight of his choices pressed down on him in a way he couldn’t ignore. He reached out, his hand brushing against hers, tentative and unsure.

“I’m not that boy anymore,” he said, his voice laced with regret.

“I know,” she replied, her hand turning to lace her fingers with his. “But he’s still in there. I see him.”

For a moment, everything else faded—the noise from inside, the cold night air, the years they’d spent apart. It was just the two of them, trying to reconnect after everything that had come between them.

And in that quiet moment, Tommy let himself believe, even if just for a second, that they could find their way back to each other.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "Dad. Did you post this."

Lucifer: "Oh my 'selfie' with your dear lovely Maggie?? Why yes I DID! Do you like it!?"

Charlie: "Dad."

Lucifer: "Since she's your loving girlfriend, who you love, I thought gosh! I should really have on my social media page! Make a change from all the ducks, ha ha!"

Charlie: "Dad did you write the- the caption on it?"

Lucifer: "The c- oh yes! Well I wanted everyone to know how much I ADORE my daughter's girlfriend!!"

Charlie: "You wrote-"

Lucifer: "See, the 'bad' here means 'good'! I checked! Bad and bitch are bad on their own, but when you put them together it's like a, er, a double negative making a positive, haha! Maggie's a bad bitch- she's AWESOME- which ahaha I'm sure YOU know since you're dating her-and now all of Hell knows I think so too!!!! ISN'T THAT SWELL!"

Charlie: "But the actual whole caption says-"

Lucifer: "'ME AND THE BAD BITCH I PULLED BY BEING CHARLIE'S DAD'!"

Lucifer: "Aww and the picture turned out so great! Look!"

Lucifer: ".... you don't look super thrilled about it, Char-char."

Charlie: "Pulled, dad... Do you know what 'pulled' can mean exactly, specifically, in THIS context..?"

Lucifer: "... pulled.... into a... hug? Like in the selfie...?"

Charlie: "Dad."

Charlie: (deep breath) "I can't believe I'm saying this..."

Charlie: "You made it sound like you SLEPT WITH my girlfriend."

Lucifer: "......."

Lucifer: "Oh. HA! That's..."

Lucifer: (deflating balloon noises as he literally shrivels up into a crumpled pile of clothes mostly hidden by his hat)

Charlie: "We're not angry!"

Lucifer: ".... i m s o r r y..."

Charlie: "It's okay!!! IT'S FINE. A little mentally scarring and socially mortifying not to mention something our friends won't EVER let us live down, but- well- Just... Just-"

Charlie: "No more social media meme posting without running them past me or Vaggie first, alright!?"

Lucifer: "If I delete the post maybe no one else will see it...."

Charlie: "Everyone in Hell has already seen it, dad."

Lucifer: "..i could delete myself instead"

Charlie: "And HOW would that help?"

Lucifer: "...it would make me feel better..."

Vaggie: "Honestly sir, the most embarrassing part is how you look young enough to be my teenage son."

Charlie: "Thanks, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Check out my stress wrinkles and scars next his baby smooth face. It's like I picked him up from a cradle somewhere."

Charlie: "Please don't joke about cradle robbing my actual father."

Vaggie: "Sorry babe."

Charlie: "I mean I'll NEVER be able to look at ANY of my parents' family portraits the same way ever AGAIN, but thank you for being SO understanding about the rumor you're dating my DAD!"

Vaggie: "Sir, what kinda skin routine are you even doing?"

Lucifer: "room full of rubber ducks and despair"

Charlie: "VAGGIE PLEASE."

Vaggie: "Sweetie, I'm ruffling his hair in the pic. It's hilarious."

Charlie: "I DON'T NEED THE REMINDER!"

Vaggie: "Feels like I'm about to call the king of hell 'kiddo' or something."

Lucifer: (a puddle on the floor) "i thought it was funny too"

Charlie: "Okay.... okay."

Charlie: "You two NEED to find a bonding activity that doesn't TRAUMATIZE me."

Vaggie: "Hmm."

Lucifer: "OH WE COULD-"

Charlie: "Or each other!"

Lucifer: "Oh well then I have nothing!"

Vaggie: "We'll always have that time you fake dated me online, sir someday dad-in-law."

Lucifer: "Our beautifully shared new horrifying past..."

Charlie: "Ha ha HA! Keep this up and either the dad part or the someday in-law part is gonna stop being accurate REAL quick!"

Vaggie: "It will?"

Charlie: "No but I'm trying to threaten you two right now so SHUSH."

[kikker-oma]

Tw: pet death

Breaking my haitus to grieve the loss of my cat Frito. He died 2 hours ago extremely suddenly. I was laying in my bed trying to sleep while he was running around with my other cat, Buzz, and I heard him yowl in a really terrible way.

I shot out of bed where he was laying on my bedroom floor 2 feet away. He was completely limp and was barely breathing. I called for my roommate to run and grab the cat carrier and drive me to the emergency vet, but I knew he was dead before we even started the car.

The vet confirmed he had died and said she suspected it was probably a blood clot or a stroke based on what I told her. He was actively playing moments before he died and he was only 3.5 years old. It was a very quick death at least.

I'm heartbroken and will be for a while, but i also know I'll be ok. He was extremely loved and he knew it too. Pets are such a blessing from God, but they are temporary gifts, and I knew that this would come someday, I just didn't think it would be so soon. I'm thanking God for giving me Frito as a pet, and praying that God comforts me as I grieve Frito's death.

If anyone here prays, I would appreciate prayers for my peace of heart.

Some pictures of my baby💔 he was a goofy sweet boy. Itll be tough to fall asleep without him cuddling in my arms every night

[v5m4k]

I got nothing to draw today and mostly not very active but here's what I made

someday I'll get my motivation to draw smth ^^

[tarotmundomonde]

Next 6 months will you have 18+ with someone?

will you have 18+ with your preferred gender during the next 6 months, yes or no and a short explanation :) ++ this is for both singles and those, who are dating but haven't done the 18+ yet with their current partner.

pick a number 1-5 or

(ps. this reading is for practice and for fun)

1.💜 The answer is yes. It does look like the topic is left untouched at first. But then you or them, it looks like perhaps they will initiate the conversation. And eventually that's how you'll end up doing it. There is a sense of being prepared but also of convincing. They might send you literally nudes to show you they are the full package. But you are definitely the one having the final say in this. The cards do say you'll be first dreaming about doing it with each other and it looks like you will communicate it with each other, telling about your 18+ dreams of each other. You will be building trust with each other first. You might literally agree on a date, when you'll do it for the first time together. Romanticism, but also it looks like you'll really go for it. Unhibited, wild sxx. Also, the cards talk about solar plexus chakra activation and bonding.

2.🧡 The answer is no. What is shown here is that you are very smart and you don't melt. You have your opinions and in the end, even the greatest temptations cannot tempt you off your path. It looks like you will be using your discernment. I'll be honest with you, this pile is probably for the minority, because the cards are clear about you not being into quick fixes and quick flings. You just don't do them, you don't engage. Like the cards are showing, it looks like majority of the people look good on the surface, but they are all bitten apples. Those people just want the sxx and nothing else. You know, people who just wants the experience, high body counts and just go straight to sxx. For them that's the romance. Or friends with benefits. It looks like that's what you can easily find and plenty, it's always within reach. That's what's around you. Whereas you want to celebrate love, you want the excitement and the fun and the romance, the chemistry, the butterflies, the intimacy, the moments. But looking at the cards, not all hope is lost for the next 6 months. There is a chance that you will meet someone. According to the cards, someone, who is a very healthy golden apple, will find you. You are waiting for each other, to find each other and once you find each other, you will be patient with each other. The cards talk about waiting, chemistry, true love, full intimacy and creative intimacy and also heart chakra activation and bonding. So take your time and have fun.

3.🩶 The answer is yes. This is most likely going to happen with your partner, because it looks like there is deep trust between you two and that you feel relaxed and comfortable doing that with them. However, it doesn't look like it is necessarily planned. Rather you know it's bound to happen and someday you just do it. It could be even on an anniversary, for example 100 days anniversary. You also got throat chakra and solar plexus chakra activation and bonding. Also, the cards are talking about jealousy and being possessive and about memories. So maybe one of you or you both want to be so great that you can make the other forget about their exes. This could have to do with the body count as well. Because there is a focus on past partners and about wanting to protect your feelings from all the secrets and discoveries. Trying to have strong self-confidence. It's like wishing to be better and doing better than the exes. Hoping to be seen as the one.

4.💚 The answer is yes. Well, it looks like a lot of it. I dare say might be the most active pile. Strong attraction, intense, passionate. For some of you, this might be an ex. Or you'll break up but can't move on from each other and then have lots of make up sxx. Because this pile has it all: love sxx, angry sxx, make up sxx, passionate sxx. You feel like you two are such a match in that sense, feeling like it's a bliss, when you two do it. And apparently you two love the eye-contact, the loving gaze you give each other, it seems to be something special for you two. Like your own thing.

5.❤️ The answer is no. For this pile it turned very last minute into a no. It looks like you'll have some insecurities, fears and doubts. There is someone, who wants to do it with you, but it looks like you are not sure, if you can trust them. Again, this is not a personal reading, so the reasons will vary, for example maybe you'll meet them in five months and you are not ready to have sxx with them within a month. You might also worry, if you can be your true self, can you trust them. Maybe you are worried of your body image and fear that they would judge your body and tell it to their friends. Maybe you know something that makes you suspect they might go tell their friends about your body and what the sxx was like. It does look like you would like to keep your privacy and there is a doubt that your person won't respect that. Because the cards talk about gossip. So you might question, if that person is just whispering you sweet nothings trying to lure you to do it with them and then go tell their friends about it.