#family :-)

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Me and my mom invaded my sister’s and her husband’s house to steal coins and food and resell their food for her.

[sharonaparadox]

[Image: fancomic of Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel smiling as he holds up a rubber duck that is made to look like Vaggie with a desaturated purple body matching her skin, white hair covering one eye with a red “X” atop it, and a red ribbon tied into a bow at the back of the head. Small red cartoony hearts float near him before he snaps his fingers, causing the duck to be covered in dark orange magic to be teleported away.

The scene shifts to show a rubber duck made to look like Charlie with a paper-white body, red cheek markings, blonde hair tied into a twice-banded low-ponytail, and a small red bow tie. Sparkles shine nearby the Charlie duck as the Vaggie duck comes into being nearby. Small hearts float between the two as the real princess of Hell calls from off-screen, “Vaggie, looook! It’s from Dad!”

A card has been teleported with the Vaggie duck addressed to “Maggie” before the first letter was crossed out with “V” written above it. The card has a pentacle in the bottom left corner and says it is from Lucifer, but his name has been written and crossed out twice with “Dad” and “King of Hell” similarly written and crossed out off to the sides. At the bottom, not crossed out, is “Lucifer” and “Dad” with three question marks nearby.

In the bottom right corner of the comic is a small panel showing a cartoony Vaggie shaking with a red heart near her, tears building up as she brings one hand up to her mouth and leans against something while trying to contain her emotions. End description.]

Lucifer found the perfect way to welcome Vaggie to the family- matching ducks!

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My cousin called me up on FaceTime while I was in class and excitedly showed me Tommy Bracco, my favorite Broadway actor, hanging out with my grandmother. I started to yell at him to keep away from my grandmother like a father would tell a first boyfriend to stay away from his daughter. I got so angry I woke myself up and checked my call logs because I was convinced it happened.

[dailyflicks]

FREAKY FRIDAY dir. Mark Waters, 2003

[sweetpetaldreams]

Dream🥹

[solestella]

[fortuneaday]

[eatingsomegreeneggos]

Gen Art Februari: Pets - Milo & Diogee 🐶💗

The cuties!!! I love them so much aaa!!! 🥹💖

[blubblubdead]

My emotions

My fears

My desires

Will never be as important

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My sister was kidnapped and replaced by an imposter and they wanted ransom money. I was so mad I started biting and slapping everyone in our family including the imposter but they didn’t feel anything.

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

L'une chante, l'autre pas (Agnès Varda, 1977)

[bardmusing]

I like to think I would be a good ghost. I'd offer company to people who were lonely or sad. I'd haunt the hell out of libraries and forests and old bridges and overpasses and I'd write little poems in cracks in the concrete for others to find and I'd pet every single animal that I found, even if my hand went right through them. I'd read all the books I never found the time for and teach myself all the things I've been wanting to learn. I'd visit my loved ones and show them that they're not as alone as they think they are, and that they're more cared for than they know. I think it would be nice to be a ghost. Peaceful.

But who knows.

an old lady I was serving today saw my "don't die wondering" pin and said she really liked it, and I was about to be like "oh? old fruit?" but then she started talking about how she dreads dying in the middle of a book, because then she'll never know the end which is, like, an equally valid interpretation of the message tbh. I told her it's a good reason to come back as a ghost and she lit up saying she thinks she'd be really good at haunting. kind of an icon tbh. i hope she dies at the end of her book, or that she comes and haunts the library so she can read to her heart's content.

[aventurineswife]

PRETTY PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE hsr men reacting to seeing their baby for the first time when they’re born??? PLEASE ITD MAKE MY WHOLE YEAR WITH AT LEAST JING YUAN AND BOOTHILL

(No pressure, do only if you’d like :))

A Promise to Protect

Tags: Jing Yuan, Boothill, Family, Parenthood, Emotional Growth, Soft Moments, Character Development, Fatherhood.

Warnings: Emotional Content, Vulnerability.

Jing Yuan stood at the doorway, watching as the nurse gently placed the newborn in his arms. His eyes softened, a rare tenderness flickering across his calm expression. He had fought countless battles, led armies, and orchestrated peace, yet none of it compared to the quiet, fragile life now cradled in his hands.

The baby’s small form wiggled slightly, its innocent face scrunched in a mixture of confusion and discomfort, yet it was the most beautiful thing Jing Yuan had ever seen. He carefully adjusted his grip, ensuring the newborn was secure, his fingers brushing against the soft, delicate skin. For a fleeting moment, the weight of his past decisions—the wars, the alliances, the responsibility of the Xianzhou—seemed distant, as if they belonged to another person entirely.

Jing Yuan’s usual composed demeanor softened. His voice, normally a steady, calming force, became almost a whisper as he spoke to the baby.

"Welcome, little one..." he murmured, his gaze lingering on the tiny face. "The future is now in your hands."

Despite his calm exterior, there was a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes, a promise of protection, a promise of guidance. He would give everything to ensure this child would live in a world where peace and wisdom reigned, even if he had to face the challenges of time himself.

The baby’s tiny hand reached up, grasping his finger, and for the first time in centuries, Jing Yuan felt something he had long forgotten: hope.

Boothill stood at the entrance of the makeshift shelter, his mechanical arm clenched into a fist as his other hand gripped the wooden frame. He had been through countless battles, had seen the worst the galaxy had to offer, and survived more than any living being should. Yet nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the baby in his arms.

It was a fragile, wriggling bundle—nothing like the fierce, vengeful existence he had built for himself. The tiny life in his arms, with its soft skin and the faintest trace of his own features, struck him with a weight he had never known.

He gazed down at the baby, his shark-like teeth clenching, trying to hold back the storm of emotions that threatened to rise in him. For a moment, Boothill’s icy demeanor faltered. This wasn’t the revenge-fueled, merciless man that had become a bounty on his head. This was something entirely new—vulnerable, raw, unfiltered.

He gently rocked the baby in his arms, his voice gruff but steady as he muttered, "I won’t let ‘em hurt you, kid. Not like they did to my family."

The baby, with its tiny fists clenched, let out a soft coo, and for the first time in years, Boothill felt his heart beat in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t for revenge, it wasn’t for justice—it was for something pure.

"You're gonna grow up strong, just like me," he said, his voice low and filled with a fierce determination.

Boothill had spent his life chasing revenge, but in that moment, holding the baby in his arms, he realized there was something worth fighting for beyond vengeance. This child would be the reason he fought from now on.

[sovietpostcards]

A Sunday Walk. Photo by A. Zagumennov (Moscow, 1970s).