#christmas of my life because it’s with them

[quillcraftconquer]

Simon, who never wanted a dog. He didn't mind dogs, always stopping to give them a quick pat on the side, and he didn't mind his friends' dogs coercing him to toss a ball for a couple of hours. He just never envisioned himself owning a dog. He spent too much time away from home, and god forbid if anything happened to him, who would even take his dog? 

Still, despite all of his unanswered questions, when he met the tan, leggy stray on a mission that followed him around like he already owned it, he couldn't help but feed it scraps from his dinner, let it sit too close, talk to it whenever everyone else went to bed. 

It wasn't a cute dog. Its body was nicked with tiny scars from its time spent on the streets, and Simon was well aware of the bugs running through its scruffy fur. Its legs were far too tall for its body, accompanied by a small, pointed head with ears too big that stood up when something caught its eye, or drooped comically low when he was relaxed. 

Price complained relentlessly about the “damn dog” that followed Simon to every dinner, whining and scratching at the door when they went to bed, always under their feet while he was trying to walk around the base. It wasn’t until he walked into the showers, making eye contact with Simon and Gaz knelt on the floor, the damn dog enjoying the last remnants of hot water and the empty box of flea medicine tilted against the wall that he knew it was a losing battle, the dog was going to stick around. 

Simon, who didn't want a dog, but spent more money than he had on anything else to bring it home, buy it a nice bed, and a thick leather collar. 

It wasn’t until he stood in the vet's office, watching you run the metal tag through the engraving machine with his information on it that he realized the dog was his. Simon told himself he came here because you were nice to his dog, not commenting on his unique looks or bad behaviors, and how your eyes didn't linger on the dog's scars (or his, foregoing the masks when he did stop in.)

You, of course, didn't mind Simon’s gruff exterior, the way he mumbled ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to your questions, but talked extensively when it came to his dog.You laughed at the way Simon’s nose crinkled when you discussed neutering, or different training methods. You said nothing when Simon would always answer “Not my dog, just a stray.”, but always paid for the best food, treats, and care, almost as if he was convincing himself the dog wasnt going to stick around (because what did in Simon’s life?)

You especially didn't mind when Simon brought up boarding, stating he had to leave for a few weeks. You jumped at the chance, determined to show him that his dog could learn just a few house manners. You let him drop the dog off at your home, gave him access to the cameras, let him survey the yard. 

And if you had known, you wouldn't have minded the late nights Simon was halfway across the world, laying on some shitty bed with security cameras pulled up, watching the dog- his dog- take its signature 3 circles before plopping down on the outdoor couch next to you. 

It was for the dog, he told himself. It definitely didn't have to do with the too tight, too short christmas pajamas you wore in, yes, June, (he had to check the calendar, feeling like he had somehow missed 6 months of the year.) It didn't have to do with the way your fingers lazily dragged over the dog's fur, or the way you pinched the bridge of your nose when the dog tore up another cushion Simon would replace. 

Simon’s thumb punched the side of the phone, the screen darkening as he laid it against his chest, eyes staring up at the darkened ceiling.

It was just about the dog.

[flowerandblood]

I have a new photo of our little dragon so: pregnancy update 🍼

Our baby looks a bit like a potato at the moment: a big head (at the top), small arms and legs. Today, the doctor showed me on the screen how his/hers heart beats and I felt moved. I don't know what to compare it to: knowing that the being inside you is alive makes you someone who gave and sustains life. For me it's a mixture of miracle and responsibility. The doctor said that the pregnancy is developing normally and everything looks as it should. It's nine weeks now (beginning of the third month). 💕

As for me, my brain is at the stage: we are creating a new person now, you can manage on your own, we will leave you two gray cells. I feel stupid and numb, I have problems concentrating, I constantly want to eat and sleep. I am also weak, in the sense that I get tired quickly when standing or walking and have to sit down. I have nausea, but I do not vomit, so it is bearable. It is better than it was at the beginning, because the unpleasant pulling in the stomach has disappeared.

My husband is an angel: he does the work for me and for himself without a word of complaint. He is very excited about his new role. We recently talked about names for the baby and we have already decided on them for each gender. Yesterday, when I talked to the support of the store where I sell my products, because they caused some technical errors, he stood behind me and said: just don't be nervous, please!!!

In December I have prenatal tests and I will get the results before Christmas: I will find out then if my child has any genetic complications or diseases. This is probably the most stressful part, which every woman fears: everyone dreams of their child being simply healthy. I also want this for my little dragon. Keep your fingers crossed! Your messages and comments, whether anonymous or not, lift my spirits. Thank you for each of them. 💕

[jitterbugjive]

Okay... I'll Accept Holiday Letters...

So, anyone who has followed me long enough knows by now how I get around the holidays. Seasonal depression kicks in, and bad memories of old toxic Thanksgivings and Christmases flood my brain any time I see or hear reminders of them. Plus there's some trauma from living in poverty and having very little around the holidays and the only people willing to exploit my mentally ill mother for work was the Salvation Army who basically pay pennies. And there's a whole lot more I don't like, like the cold, Christmas Carols, etc.

However.

The last couple of years I finally got to have proper family holiday get togethers since the toxic people in the family are gone now, and it was very healing for me. I still despise the holidays, don't get me wrong, they are mostly miserable for me. I generally tell people to not address the holidays with me.

But... I've been going through a LOT this year. Especially the last 6 months with my mother being manic and getting her whole life messed up. I've also been dealing with another family member experiencing psychosis on and off as well that I haven't felt comfortable talking about. The results of the election and things Oregon was voting on are not helping me feel any better, and I fear that winter depression is going to be hitting me like a truck. I can feel it creeping in already now that the weather is getting under 40F. On top of that, my family isn't in a state right now where anyone can feasibly host Thanksgiving or Christmas, so it's a bit of a lonely one this year. Sure, I have friends I can spend time with, but I was just getting used to the family dinners. Overall, this is just going to be a very hard winter for me.

And for once, I'm going to ask people to lend a bit of the Holiday Spirit (tm) my way, because I really need some pick-me ups to get through the rest of the year. Basically all I'm asking for is for people to send me letters of encouragement through my PO Box. Gifts and fan art are welcome too, I keep all my fan art safe. I'd prefer not to get flat-out christmas cards unless the cards are really nice or creative and have a lot of thought put into what's written in them. I could just really use some kind words and there's something that feels a lot more personal about physical letters that I can store away and pull out on a rainy day.

Please note I have a pea brain that can't read cursive very well, so if possible I'd prefer it be in plain print or typed out.

If you send treats they need to be shelf stable and properly sealed, no home baked goods.

My P.O. Box: (Can be addressed to Jitterbug or Jack)

16055 SW Walker Rd #274Beaverton, OR, 97006

And if anyone's feeling generous I do have an amazon wishlist that people should be able to buy and send stuff from without needing to be the middleman. I don't update it much and a lot of stuff is outdated but you should be able to organize it by priority to get a better idea of what things I'm most interested in. You can even add other stuff to the order that isn't on the list and it will still be shipped to my P.O. Box!

AMAZON WISHLIST

[cool-abed-filmz]

@catghoul31

CAN CONFIRM GAYER THAN THE ORIGINAL

like as someone who saw Cinderpool and Beautypool and the Wolverbeast in real life.... these clips man... i haven't stopped thinking about the clip of them walking off together after the Christmas Carol version of the show and logan is gently pushing wade on his unicorn reindeer......... which is special because in the twas the night before Christmas show wade asks logan to push him and he says no....

this is literally my lock screen

does poolverine tumblr know disneyland now has a HOLIDAY VERSION of story time with deadpool

wade has a cutesy santa outfit too trust go look on tik tok

[laswells-ashtray]

New here but already in love with the way you write Price and Nikolai, so I have an idea for you.

I saw the hybrid COD idea and was thinking about how Price would never show his wings to anyone except those who keeps close(his boys, Laswell, Mac, etc), but he only shows them one because the showing of both wings is something reserved for significant others, which is something John thought he’d never have.

Cue Nikolai coming in and turning his whole life around, and now they’re sitting in one of John’s favorite quiet places and having a drink when the dragon hybrid gets up suddenly and turns to face Nikolai, a look of content and bliss in his eyes as he stretches his wings to their full height and show them to the pilot in all their glory.

At first, Nikolai is stunned because- it had taken damn near years to get this powerful captain to trust him, to be around him, and to learn to love him, and now all of a sudden on a warm evening he’s showing off his wings to him of all people?

Needless to say he’s stunned and immediately wraps John in his arms, large form surrounding the dragon’s easily despite his own large size.

Aaaand.. yeah! That’s all I got.

Awwww, that's so fucking cute and very John, to do it without any warning.

John, watching Nikolai discuss the mechanics of a heli: I need this man in my life forever and I need him in my bed without the next two hours.

I think touching a dragon's wings is a big nuh-uh unless you're someone close to them, or a medic because God forbid John go a single mission without getting fucking injured.

Kate has felt them because despite having a master poker face, John could tell she was curious and he trusts her completely. He just took her hand and rested it on her wing, because she's Kate she asked him if he was sure and he nodded. She ever so gently trailed her fingers across his wing and hummed approvingly. "They're nice... Sturdy." "That stops being a good thing when you clobber them off of something."

The boys have all felt one of his wings. It's grounding for Simon when he needs it, Gaz treats it as something precious; being allowed to feel a dragon's wing is a unique experience and Soap is more often that not the one to tell John that he needs to visit the medic because he's a little scratched up.

MacMillan has felt his wing because John has always been a reckless arse and back in the day, Mac was the only one he'd let patch it up because the medics at the time were a bit too heavy-handed and it was either that or John tried to do it himself. He can't twist at the right angles to patch up his own wings. He has a habit of always injuring the right one, too.

Nikolai? Nikolai spends his mornings lazily drawing the shape of a heli against John's wing when they're in bed together in the morning and the other wing is wrapped around him. He does it so often that John knows just from the touch that it's a heli. "Again?" "You complained when it was a penis." "...You're right, carry on."

Nikolai drapes a blanket over John's wings because Soap joked that if they did it then they could make Price look like Batman and Nik's curiosity got the better of him.

He wraps tinsel around the tips of one of his wings at Christmas just to see if John will let him away with it, John does. And John will, every time.

[skeletboi]

Super short update because my life is a mess.

But here is part 24 of the Intridimensional Au!

First /// Previous /// Next

__________________________________________

“Impressive as ever.” Ford said as he looked at the robot arm on the work bench.

“Thanks, Stanford.” Fiddleford replied quietly.

Ford watched Fiddleford place his good hand over the arm then glanced up at Fiddleford's face and frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Lots a’ things are, I reckon.” Fiddleford said with a humorless huff of laughter. “Ya know when I went back home fer Christmas and fergot ta get Emma-May a present?”

“I recall, yes.” Ford responded, his frown deepening.

“She was already purdy darn mad at me before that. I wore baggy sweaters ta try and hide the metal cast on my arm so she wouldn't go worryin’ ‘bout it, but Tate ain't dumb and heard the hum of the components. He asked me about it, ‘cuz he's at that age where they ask a million questions, and I told him it was a metal cast. ‘Course he's an imaginative kid so he immediately started calling it a robit arm. He ran ta Emma-May ta tell her, and I thought she was ‘bout to murder me on the spot.” Fiddleford paused and picked up the arm. “He'd love this, but Emma-May would hate it.”

“I love it, if that makes you feel any better.” Ford said, placing a hand on Fiddleford's back.

“It does.” Fiddleford said with another quiet laugh. “But I can't stop thinkin’ about that. Emma-May knew how I felt ‘bout you in college, and we got in a purdy big fight ‘bout it before I came ta Gravity Falls. I love Emma-May, but our parents both loved the idea of us bein’ together more than we did. I think maybe we were more like best friends than spouses, but I promised her I'd be back ‘cause, above all else, we jus’ wanted Tate ta have a normal childhood.” Fiddleford set the arm back down and choked on a laugh that sounded suspiciously more like a sob. “‘Spose I'll jus’ hafta live with the fact that he won't. I don’ know if he'll ‘member me at all.”

“Fidds…” Ford said softly, unsure of what else to say with his own guilt and regret tearing at his chest.

“If I knew it was gonna turn out this way I prolly woulda jus’ said screw it and kissed ya as soon as ya opened the door to yer damn creepy cabin in the woods.”

Ford cracked a smile at that, but Fiddleford still looked a thousand miles away as he stared down at the arm.

“You would have stopped me.” Ford said after a moment.

Fiddleford glanced over at him in question.

“You say you would have kissed me right then, but I know you, and, if you had known this was the outcome, you would have left.” Ford clarified.

“Maybe.” Fiddleford responded thoughtfully, “But maybe not. Maybe I’m too scared in every timeline.”

“Fuck that.” Stan said, coming up behind them and dropping the last box at their feet. “I saw your face when Ford mentioned fighting back against Bill. That wasn't fear. That was determination.”

Fiddleford smiled sadly over his shoulder at Stanley.

“I thought you'd grow out of being so cheesy.” Ford deadpanned.

“Nope!” Stan replied with a smile. “But if you two are done being nauseating, we have some boxes to go through. I found a box of brown meat! It says it expires in 1993, but who the fuck knows what year it is in this dimension. My plan is to eat it now, ask questions later!”

“I believe you meant ‘die of food poisoning later’.” Ford noted.

“Or die of starvation! Might as well eat mystery food and die the fun way!” Stan laughed.

“Dysentery don't sound fun.” Fiddleford replied.

“Whatever, nerds.” Stan said, motioning to the boxes. “Just grab what you want so we can get on with life. I found a shot gun, too. You're welcome.”

Fiddleford laughed but did as he was told and put aside his arm project to start rummaging through the boxes.

___________________________________________

Sorry non-Fiddauthor fans. I needed Fiddauthor.

I originally wasn't going to write this bit in, but I wanted to give some context to the guilt they're both still feeling and the relationship between Emma-May and Fidds. Emma-May is bi in this universe, but prefers woman. Is that a cop-out to make myself feel better about how much Fidds hurt her? Yes, yes it is. But I am doing it anyway because I do what I fucking want.

I have another art piece nearly done, so I'll probably post it tomorrow. For now, enjoy. Or whatever.

[v3nusxsky]

Ohh 12 and 26 with our queen Larissa 🥵

Behind closed doors 18+

*authors note~ so many wips haunting me and a new obsession with Agatha and rio plus school is murdering my brain. We interrupt Mars writting university assignments to bring the original queen that inspired me to start writing back to your screens. Hold tight for the Christmas event coming soon*

Trigger Warnings~ praise kink, choking (r), breeding kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, shifted cock, dom Larissa, sub r, begging, possessive Larissa, sorta marking (r),

Prompt~ see ask-^^*

Combined with this from the lovely @dingdongthetail

So reader is a omega who everyone assumes is an alpha because she is fiery and outspoken (thinking more masc presenting), Larissa is an alpha everyone assumes is a beta because she's kind and handles everything with her trademark grace, they have a secret relationship, they know about each other obvs, so when they get alone alpha Larissa comes out and subby omega reader just melts and does whatever her mate tells her. Breeding, mommy, pet names, praise, choking. Thoughts?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Perception is a funny thing. Subjective. And that was something you had learned very early on in life. Working in Nevermore as an empath is always interesting, you get your fair share of teen angst, puppy love, stress, frustration and your personal favourite curiosity. Feeling the students around you often gives you a great insight into how your lesson will go. Perhaps that’s why your classes are known to be the better behaved ones, you tailor your lessons to their moods. Despite your desire to be an open and honest person, all of Nevermore believe you to be a confident, outspoken at times and charming alpha. All expect one. Your masculine leaning appearance only adds fuel to their preconceived idea of you. People’s opinions of you never really bothered you, learning it’s best to allow them to think what they want. As long as you’re true to yourself then that’s all that matters to you. Your status is not something you deem to be important public knowledge.

As the principal of Nevermore, it was unsurprising that people naturally assumed Larissa Weems was nothing but a beta. Her calm fair nature combined with the uniqueness of her striking appearance only supported the idea. Truthfully, being a private woman, this never bothered Larissa Weems, she quite liked the idea of the public version of her and the real her, hidden behind closed doors. People often say it’s exhausting, pretending to be someone you are not. Larissa would have to disagree with that statement.

Dating Larissa Weems was nothing short of heavenly. Sure her being your boss could be seen as problematic but for both of you it was no issue. The connection you shared with the shifter was like no other you’d ever had the pleasure to experience. She was the first one to ask you rather than guess based on her perception. You were the first one who showed true and unconditional love. You knew first hand how others opinions could affect others so it was only natural you would want to ensure Larissa felt nothing but warmth and love.

The first time your suppressants ran out was only a month into your relationship. Exam season in Nevermore was always stressful but it didn’t help that your pharmacy had no refill for your prescription. It didn’t particularly bother you that people would find out the truth, you were more scared for her reaction. Of course she immediately noticed the change in your scent. Naturally she didn’t want to say anything and potentially cause upset but soon enough it became physically impossible to hide. Your heat hit hard and if you’d been able to concentrate on anything other than the slick between your plush thighs you would’ve noticed that poor Larissa was sent spiralling hard and fast into an unexpected rut.

Desire. Need. Lust. All you felt in the moment. It made thinking with a clear mind difficult for you both. However, just like you suspected, the newfound knowledge changed nothing. Well. That’s a lie. But you like to argue it changed for the better for you both. A safe haven where you could both be what you were made to be. Larissa loving taking the caring dominant role over you, protecting you from any possible threat. You adore being hers, pleasing her, cooking for her. Anything that woman needs your there and ready to do whatever it takes. Not to say she’s not the same for you, you love how her frame towers over your body as she holds you to her chest. The feeling of safety and comfort was all you ever desired. A true Alpha to your omega. True bond. Bound together by fate. Yet nothing changed around Nevermore. The days flowed as they usually did but behind closed doors, it was all different.

Wednesday had well and truly pushed every one of Larissa’s buttons. The principal being left pacing her office as she waits for you to join her for the evening. It amazes you how well Wednesday can rile your lover up. Although it shouldn’t be surprising because her not he is the same. Most assume you become overwhelmed with jealousy and that’s why you don’t like Mortica Addams. If only they knew what a riled up Larissa Weems meant behind closed doors. No. You hate the emotional scars morticia left in her wake. Long deep jagged cuts all over Larissa’s fragile heart.

“Rissa?” You muttered quietly, drawing the woman from her frustrated thoughts. When did you come in? Immediately, your scent washed over her tight frame, muscles began to loosen subconsciously. A direct response. You however could only whimper as her emotional state crashed into your small frame. “What can I do my love?” Within a few strides she was towering over you, a smirk plastered on her ruby lips as she growled, “I wanna make you feel so good you forget your own name. I need to fuck you darling.”

You couldn’t even draw a breath before she was slamming your body back against her heavy mahogany door. Helpless. “Mommy needs her good girl” she practically purred as she nipped and licked over the column of your throat, your pulse thumping under her warm muscle. Really it’s unfair, how can you do anything but surrender to her pure dominance. Tiny moans escaping you as your brain grappled to form a response. To consent to what would soothe you both. “Please” you gasped, hands pawing at her dress that was snug to her hips. How could she not give you everything when you flash those needy doe eyes her way and use such pretty manners?

Her toned thigh made contact with your pulsing clit with a practiced ease, her hands being the only thing keeping you upright as you worked yourself pathetically quickly to an orgasm. The scent of your alpha mixed with the pleasure she was happily providing you created the open road to bliss. Larissa prides herself on just how little she can do before you’re hurtling off the edge. How she could quite literally command you to fuck your pretty pussy for her, putting on a show as all she does is watch. The first orgasm never takes too long for her pull from you. You can’t help but whine when she moves her now slick coated thigh from your heat. “Hush my love, you know mommy will take care your needy cunt. I’d never leave my pretty girl all needy would I?”

Somewhere in the blissful haze the pair of you moved to your bedroom next door and the clothing was stripped from you both, her goddess like figure on full display for your eager eyes to devour. “Mommy” you whimpered, every letter dripped with need. “I haven’t ruined my pretty girls brain already have I? Mommy wants more sweet girl you understand that don’t you?” Her condescending tone added an edge you didn’t know you needed, instinctively your legs fell open, exposing your puffy red soaked slit. “Hmm pretty girl, that was too easy, perhaps you need to be reminded who’s in control here. Can’t have MY girl spreading her legs for anybody now can I?”

Larissa couldn’t help but drive straight in, to get a taste of you like a starving woman. You simply taste delicious. Like nothing she’d ever tasted before. Your arousal coating her tongue was one of her favourite things in the world. The rich taste, the way she could flick your bundle of nerves with the tip of her tongue and you’d respond with such a pretty mewl of pleasure, your core flooding with more for her to feast on. Your hand immediately found its home in her silver strands of hair, gripping and tugging on them as your hips bucked toward her sinful mouth. God the way her nose would bump into your clit as she plunged her tongue into your soaked little hole as her both of you moaning like wild animals. A perfectly timed dance, as old as fate itself.

Larissa prides herself on being an attentive alpha. You are on your third climax of the night before she even realises she’s now painfully hard. Her appendage standing tall and proud. Ready for action. The tip angry, red and leaking. The sight of you gasping for air as you come back down to earth, pupils blown wide with a messy pussy drive her wild. Yet she’s not done yet. You breasts need to be marked. Every inch. Hers. That’s what you are and she’ll mark you as many times as it takes for every one to know. Her slender fingers toying with your perky nipples as she remarks her claim on your neck. It’s enough stimulation alongside the physical sensation being bestowed on your breasts that sends you hurling over the edge again. Tears brimming in your eyes at the pure force of the orgasm rippling through your body. Chest heaving as the shifter leans back to take you in. “Pretty baby, such a messy girl for mommy. I know my girl needs more. Beg for it darling. Tell mommy what you want.” It takes a few attempts before you manage to breathlessly stumble out “I - I want y-you to come I-inside me this time. Please. I want to make you feel good”

Trying to sit up on shaky limbs is a trial and a half, but nothing would stop you from pleasing her. Your lover treats you so well, it’s only fair to repay her. “Please” you pleaded peering up at her through your eyelashes. A simple plea but simply too cute to resist. “Go ahead sweetheart, show mommy how much you want her cock in that sweet little pussy of yours.” Instinctively you bent to take the member between your plump lips, cheeks hollowing around her as you swirled your tongue around the leaking tip. A little pleased moan left you to vibrate along her shaft. “Oh good girl. That’s my girl. Such a good cock sucker for mommy”she praised. Yet it was short lived. Larissa would say she has good stamina, but you’d got her so desperate she could burst from just your mouth. And you both wanted her to be inside of your warmth when she burst. “Off” was all she offered before tugging you off by her grip in your hair, “my sweet girls such a good girl for my dick, but I want to be inside your sweet cunt when I burst. Fuck my babies into you until you’re begging mommy to stop. You want my knot right darling? My cock buried snuggly into your cervix as I fill you to the brim?”

If you thought she was all talk, that thought died as she sunk her cock in. Slowly. Inch by inch. She wanted you to feel every stretch, every vein, every twitch. “Look at how well you take me pretty girl” she moaned taking in the sight she was pleading you to look at. Her hand settled around your throat, lightly pressing you into the mattress and drawing to her full height. “Pretty thing with my hand like a necklace” her murmured thought was cut off by a loud pitch moan filling the room. Any final restraint broke like a damn. Primal needs filling the older woman as she drew out to just the tip before slamming back into you. Blissfully unaware of the world outside the door is what you were. Her hand wrapped round your throat, her constant pounding of your tight little hole, the sinful grunts coming from her as she kept her almost animalistic pace. Striving to hit the spot that makes your eyes roll back into your head as you coat her thick cock with your slick. Incoherent whimpers babbling out of your mouth among the slight choking sounds she was pulling from you only aid in green lighting Larissa to climax.

“Mommy” you whined, haphazardly reaching to paw at her bare chest, “so full. So good.” The praise giving her the drive to pound you just a little harder causing you both to tumble over the edge together. Long spurts of white hot sticky seed raced to your womb as you milked Larissa for all she had, inner walls gripping her knot so tight that she couldn’t help but spill more into your awaiting core. “Fuck darling” she panted as her arms gave out, her head finding its way to where her mark on you lay. It would be a while before Larissa could even considering pulling out of you. Even then she knew you’d beg to be like this for a little longer. To stay full and connected. And who would she be to deny her precious omega of anything? There would come a time she would slip from your now gaping hole and shush your cries of displeasure before setting to work on caring for you. Cleaning you up with a warm rag, bath filled with lavender salts running as she grabs you a drink before lifting you effortlessly in her arms to the tub. Soaking together in the post orgasmic bliss before drying off and drifting off to slumber wrapped in her strong arms.

Word count~ 2202

[owenryder]

Completely understand, I'm not saying that my wild days are completely behind me, because I'm me, and I wouldn't be me without those wild days, but I like my quiet, old man days just as much, you know? But I'm glad to have someone in my life that I can be an old, artsy geezer with. I know that you do, and you rock a good manicure! I am also a fan of a good mani-pedi, who doesn't want to get pampered every now and then? Especially since it can be nice to feel good when you've got something big or important coming up. Exactly, you're never going to have to worry about that awkward time that you drew them naked, since you're never actually going to run into them again, right? To be fair, I would think that this time of year, anyone ordering a tree… would want a Christmas tree. But that's just me!

Me too. They were fun during that time, and I loved it while it lasted, but I think turning 30 just switched things out. In a good way! Also we can be old geezers together, you’re my trusty artsy companion. Haha, I’m glad you get what I’m getting at! You know me, I love a good manicure. Ha, yes! It’s like… there’s an image of them in the professional sense or educational sense and then the social sense. Crossing over those lines can make conversation weird! Then a total stranger, there’s what, a 2% chance you’ll see them again? Except in a small school you’ll probably see them again. It’s happened a couple of times to people I know. If they don’t want a Christmas tree, I’m sure most people will and it’ll still be a hit. They’ll just have to be specific next time!

[prettypleasetextme]

An Angel?

(Elora backstory!)

(Peeps?: @city-of-c0rpses @myluckymoon )

Mom and dad were always such fantastic parents. They loved and cared for me endlessly. Spoiled me but made sure I was humbled and grateful as well. True role models for me. They inspired me to be loving and treat others with kindness as well. Though I was always loving by nature. I wanted to love people no matter who or what they are.

Though when I was little, I had no one to love and spoil on. So when my parents asked me what I wanted for Christmas when I was 6, I gave an excited reply, "I want a sibling!" I remember that moment when their faces scrunched up in worry, but I never knew why in the moment.

Apparently, my mom had struggles with trying to get pregnant, and having me was dangerous enough due to the birthing process. For medical reasons, she could have almost died for having me. I don't blame them for deciding not to have another kid and telling me no. But for a long time I was still wishing for a sibling.

At first, I wanted any sibling until I decided and settled that I specifically wanted a baby brother. Whenever I would go to the park, I would watch families play together. There would be sisters playing tag with their brothers, older brothers simply walking and having a conversation with their siblings. Seeing the people at the park made me desire to have a baby brother.

I figured that my day of having a sibling will never come though. I sorta accepted it when my mom told me why I can't have a sibling.

Until one day, when I was 11 ,I got a call from my best friend at the time, Xena Withlock. She was my age and had three younger sisters and came from a wealthy family. She called me to inform me that she won't be at school the next day. "Why not? We have a test tomorrow?" I asked over the phone.

"Because my mom is in the hospital right now. I'm going to have a brother tonight." Xena replied to me. I practically dropped the phone and hung up, running over to her house as quickly as I could. How come she never told me about this until now?! Why am I just hearing about this now?!

I had one single goal in mind. I always wanted a baby brother, yet never could have had one. My only way to ever get one was to become the godsister of my closet friend's brother. I was determined to get what this family didn't want in the future.

I felt a little bad for bursting into Xena's home and room unexpectedly and not invited, let alone stay the night there as well, but my desire to meet this baby was there. Besides, we had a fun little sleep over that night. The next day, we went to the hospital. I was skipping ahead of Xena and her three younger sisters, Lillie, Viola, and Sophia. I was too excited, all I could do was leap in excitement. Poor Xena was so confused why.

I guess you can say I annoyed the crap out of her father and mother. Because as soon as we arrived to the room, I practically begged her father to allow me to be their new son's godsister. Her poor mom, who was still recovering at the time was so tired that she gave me the "Whatever, sure."

I couldn't have been happier once I was granted permission. Immediately, I called dibs on holding the baby first. Giving into my demands, they let me, handing over the tiny baby in my arms. They named his Xavier. He was the cutest little baby, sleeping peacefully all swaddled up. Absolutely adorable.

I held him close to my chest, enjoying the closeness. I promised to myself that I would help take good care of him. I think I did a good job in fulfilling that promise. For almost every day of my life, until I moved when I was a adult, I would visit the Withlocks and take care of my baby brother.

From simply holding him and talking to him, to watching him grow, I would try to be there. Xena would make jokes that I was the 5th sister of the family, since I was there all the time. How could I not be there? That's my baby brother right there.

From trying to lift his head the first time, crawling on the floor, showing me crayon colored dinosaurs, pushing him on the swings, and before saying goodbye for the last time, I tried to be there for him. For every little thing he did, I was proud of him. I loved him. Every moment I wanted to spoil him rotten and love on him.

His parents weren't always the greatest. I could tell from day one when I met Xena. But I was hoping that, at least through all my efforts, I left a little bit of impact and hope in him for when I had to take my leave. After all life was telling me to start growing up. Soon before I knew it, I had a husband, I was living out in the countryside, I had my own kids to take care of, life got the best of me.

Oh, but how time flies. It's been a while, a few years since I reached out in contact. I hope they are doing well.

After all, I still love them.

[odetolovers]

hello 💃

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[itspileofgoodthings]

my romantic self-esteem is just absolutely rock-solid. for whatever reason!

[the-meme-monarch]

christmas has always kinda made me feel awkward and bad for different reasons but now it’s just “the day before my cat died”. the entire month of december is just “remember when your cat died?” “hey it’s your sibling’s birthday :]” “remember when your cat died?.” “merry christmas. tomorrow is the anniversary of when your cat died.” “good morning it’s the anniversary of when your cat died.”

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

sometimes i think about what would have happened if richard had died instead of henry and the rest of the book had been narrated the song of achilles style and it hurts

[justworthlessreblogs]

woe. (most of) my kirapika doodles from the past few months be upon ye in honor of their birthday

most of these are technically waffleverse. 1 and 3 are from some generic au where rio kept his precure powers after 40, ig. i just felt like drawing his canon outfit at the time. 2 is actually a scrapped piece of dialogue from bibury fic back when it was supposed to go in a different direction and rio was a lot more chill. 4 was drawn after i encountered one of the motion shrines in my botw replay and decided to project my frustrations onto rio because those things SUCK

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

All I want for Christmas is to get dicked down again =/