#heartwarming :)

[treehairr]

tweaking

[babyanimalgifs]

Why are otters so cute and make these noises?

(Source)

[2dmax]

Abood's Wife Needs Medical Treatment (NEW UPDATE DEC 17th 2024: DONATE VIA PAYPAL BELOW)

Original post text:

@abood-gaza7 needs $135 today for his wife's treatment tomorrow. They also need to buy clothes for the winter, and every day the price of all goods in Gaza increases.

I wanted to make a special little donation drive for Abood and his wife. For TODAY (11/02/2024) only, donate to grow this flower and help Abood's wife get the care she needs. You MUST message me with proof of donation for it to count towards this flower's growth!

Tiers: 🌱🍃🌱🍃🌱🍃

$5 -- a drop of water

$10 -- a cup of water

$15 -- a watering can full of water

$20 -- add a good luck charm (you may describe it!)

$50 -- plant a new seed (you may describe it!)

$135 -- DM me for an original full artwork gift

12/17/2024: Abood has given me an update that his wife’s condition is worsening and more money needs to be raised for her surgery. Please use PayPal to donate to him.

Donate the amounts above to his PayPal, and for any donation made today 12/17/2024 that you inform me of, we can continue to grow this flower! 🌱 🪴

Updates will -not- be live as they happen, but I will honor each donation I am informed of. I am not affiliated with Abood’s campaign, and his campaign and need for donations will continue and be independent of thisnpost.

Can't donate? Share + Crosspost

THANK YOU! 💞💌

Update 00

[gemwing1988]

This is so beautiful❣️

Merry Christmas, Spyro and Cynder!

Merry Christmas!!

[metalmiez]

It's ineffable, my dear

With a content sigh, the demon slung his left arm around the angel. He snaked his head across Aziraphale's right shoulder and nuzzled his nose against his cheek.

"Whatcha doin', angel?" Crowley murmured lazily and pressed a kiss against Aziraphale's temple. He felt the angel lean into the soft touch, humming softly.

"About to put the kettle on for my afternoon tea. Did you have a nice nap, dear?" His warm hand wrapped around Crowley's and tenderly caressed the skin on his wrist.

"Mrm. Would've been nicer if someone had allowed me to sleep around his neck."

Aziraphale chuckled.

"You nearly discorporated me last time, when you turned back into your human shape in your sleep, darling."

Crowley grinned about this particular memory. He wanted to tease his angel more, but his silly thoughts derailed when he felt Aziraphale's right hand reaching out and caressing his hair. The demon hummed appreciatively and leaned his face against the soft fabric of his sky-blue shirt. For Satan's sake, it shouldn't feel so nice to bask in Aziraphale's warmth and tender touch - he was a demon after all.

But on the other hand. He had grown quite comfortable in Aziraphale's presence. Every soft touch, every kiss, every affectionate nickname had burned away a tiny bit of Crowley's millennia-old defense. Truth be told, he really liked the tender affections, and to be soft and vulnerable and gentle. If he ever felt the urge to be demonic, he still had his plants to threaten.

With another sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned closer.

I felt the urge to draw some tooth rotting fluff again, and the urge to grin like an idiot was strong with this one. Hopefully, it gives you the same amount of dopamine as it gave me while drawing it <3

[friendsplushies]

Bread Chinchilla draws a hand turkey! Sorta.. Good thing he's super resourceful and his friends are all orbs!

[morbidology]

James Harrison is known as the “Man with the Golden Arm.” He has a rare plasma composition that has been used to create a treatment for Rhesus disease. When he turned 18, he made a pledge to always donate blood. Since then. He has donated blood 1173 times. When he turned 81 on 11 May, 2018, he donated blood for the very last time. Australian policy prohibits anybody over the age of 81 donating blood. Due to James’ donations, he has saved over 2.4 Million unborn babies from the condition. The photograph above shows just some of the babies he saved.

[ultraericthered]

It's like everyone except the author recognize these two are the OTP.

SO HOW AM I JUST NOW FINDING OUT THAT THE ORIGINAL HIBIKE EUPHONIUM NOVEL ILLUSTRATOR DRAWS KUMIKO AND REINA LIKE THIS

[favorite-worst-nightmare]

Animatic……… soldier gets glasses…..

[silvermoon424]

Don't touch me, I'm crying over the well-loved Garfield plush

[happyheidi]

“Alfred Date learned how to knit in 1932.

In 2015, at 109 he created tiny clothes for Phillip Island Penguins who needed woolen jumpers in the wake of the oil spill to help prevent penguins from swallowing the oil when they attempted to clean themselves.

Alfred ‘Alfie’ Date passed away in 2016 at 110 years old.”

via mignonettetakespictures

[catscafecomics]

Surround yourself with those who fan your flames!

[todayontumblr]

Monday, November 6.

Bob Ross.

Well, you know what they say. When the going gets tough, the tough get comfortable, make themselves a warm brew (like herbal tea or hot chocolate, par exemple), and snuggle down with lights dimmed and their faces illuminated by laptop screen glow. Here, they sit and watch one of #bob ross' many classic episodes, like Mountain Summit, or Valley View, and enjoy the show's blissfully 80s theme music, simplistic décor, Mr Ross' liberally-buttoned shirt, and soft, yet gravely, timbre. For 30 minutes, they enjoy Mr Ross painting a landscape scene: a lake, a sunset, a mountain. And it is after this point, and only after, that the tough get going. 

[babyanimalgifs]

Regie knows the routine lol

(Source)

[unbfacts]

There is a cemetery in the Netherlands with over 8,000 U.S. WWII veterans' graves. For over 70 years, Dutch families have visited the cemetery every week to tend to graves they have adopted. Currently, hundreds of people are waiting for a chance to become caretakers.

[aventurineswife]

aventurine and whatever characters you wanna add with a wife reader and child

aventurine (and other characters) pretend to be santa and deliver presents for their kid on christmas eve :3

their kid will catch them in the act and ask if its really santa (they totally are, dont crush a kid's dreams on santa (i learned the hard way he wasnt real 😔))

-:3 anon

Special Gift from Santa!

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Fluff, Family Moments, Fatherhood, Winter Special, Heartwarming, Romance.

A/N: I can't believe people still think Santa is real 💀... Like damn, i already knew santa wasn't real as a child and was rather a made up character/mascot but still its funny. Thank God, I didn't go through that just to get my heart broken lol 😪 sorry for your loss tho🫂

Christmas Eve aboard your cozy little ship felt magical. The soft hum of the engines blended with the quiet crackle of a small holographic fireplace. Strings of colorful lights flickered, casting warmth across the room. Your child had insisted on hanging their handmade decorations all over the cabin. Their innocent excitement over Santa Claus’s impending arrival filled your heart with joy—and Boothill’s too, though he’d never admit it outright.

“I still think this whole ‘Santa’ thing is ridiculous,” Boothill grumbled under his breath, adjusting the red hat atop his white hair. He was dressed in a mismatched Santa suit you’d cobbled together from spare fabric: a red jacket (barely hiding his mechanical torso), a black belt, and fuzzy white cuffs. “They’re too smart for this kinda stuff.”

You smirked, watching as he held a small sack of presents. “Oh, come on, Boot. They believe in Santa. Just this once, let them have the magic.”

He huffed, shark-like teeth flashing in a reluctant grin. “Fine. But if I get caught, it’s on you.”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’ll do great.”

The ship was quiet except for the sound of Boothill’s spurs softly jingling as he tiptoed into their room. The sack slung over his shoulder shifted slightly as he crouched down by the small Christmas tree you’d set up at the foot of their bed. The dim glow of the tree lights reflected in his black, aim-marked eyes.

He carefully began pulling out the gifts you’d wrapped together: a handmade doll, a small toolkit, and a bundle of colorful space-themed storybooks. Boothill placed them beneath the tree, his mechanical hand moving with a surprising gentleness.

But as he straightened, a small voice broke the silence.

“Santa?”

Boothill froze. Turning slowly, he saw them sitting up in bed, their wide, sleepy eyes sparkling with wonder. They clutched their blanket tightly, staring at him in awe.

For a moment, Boothill panicked internally. Do I tell them? No, I can’t crush their dreams. Play it cool, cowboy.

He straightened his hat, giving them a toothy grin. “Ho ho ho, kiddo,” he said, his gruff voice deepening into a surprisingly convincing Santa impression. “You caught me.”

Their eyes lit up. “It is you! I knew you’d come!” They scrambled out of bed and ran to him, throwing their arms around his legs.

Boothill blinked, momentarily stunned by the hug, then gently patted their head. “Y-Yeah, uh, Santa always keeps his promises.”

They looked up at him, their expression serious. “Are you really Santa? You look kinda… like my dad.”

Boothill crouched down, meeting their gaze. “I get that a lot,” he said, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Your dad’s a real good guy, huh? Maybe that’s why I wanted to visit you special tonight. You’ve been real good this year.”

They beamed, their earlier suspicion forgotten. “Did you see my wish list?”

“Sure did,” Boothill said, reaching into the sack and pulling out one of the gifts. “This one’s from the top of the list, right?”

They gasped, their tiny hands trembling as they accepted the gift. “You’re the best, Santa!”

Once they had fallen asleep again, Boothill returned to the main cabin, his hat slightly askew and a soft smile lingering on his face.

“How’d it go?” you asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Kid bought it,” Boothill said, his tone half-joking but tinged with pride. “Didn’t even flinch when I said I looked like their dad.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “I told you you’d make a great Santa.”

Boothill shook his head, glancing toward their room. “That little one of ours… they deserve the whole galaxy.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “They’ve already got it, Boot. They’ve got you.”

And for the first time in years, on that quiet Christmas Eve, Boothill felt a warmth in his heart that even revenge couldn’t match.

Snowflakes drifted gently outside the window, their crystalline patterns catching the soft glow of the streetlights. Inside the cozy warmth of their home, the scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air. Aventurine, adorned in an elaborate Santa costume—complete with a fluffy red coat, a crooked white beard, a golden bell tied to his wrist, and a festive Santa mask that concealed his unmistakable features—was crouched beside the glittering Christmas tree. His eyes, barely visible through the mask’s cutouts, gleamed mischievously as he carefully arranged the gifts.

His wife, you, leaned against the doorway, stifling a laugh at the sight. "You look ridiculous," you whispered, your arms crossed playfully.

Aventurine looked up, feigning mock insult. "Ridiculous? My dear, I am a vision of holiday cheer and generosity. This costume cost more than the tree itself. It’s haute couture Santa."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "I think it’s wonderful that you’re doing this for our little one. But try not to wake them, alright? They’ll figure it out one day, and I’d rather it not be tonight."

Aventurine gave a dramatic bow. "Fear not, my darling. I am as silent as a card sliding into the slot of a roulette table. Luck favors me, after all."

You sighed fondly and retreated to the bedroom, leaving him to his antics.

As Aventurine carefully placed the final gift under the tree, a soft rustling sound made him freeze. Turning his head slowly, he saw a pair of wide, curious eyes peeking out from the staircase.

"Santa?" the small voice whispered.

Aventurine's heart nearly skipped a beat. His child—a miniature whirlwind of joy and mischief—was clutching their favorite stuffed animal, their little face glowing with wonder in the dim light.

Straightening his hat and beard, Aventurine gave the most convincing "Ho ho ho!" he could muster. "Indeed, it is I, Santa Claus! And who might you be, little one?"

The child’s face lit up as they descended the stairs cautiously. "I’m [Child’s Name]! You… you’re really real?"

Aventurine knelt down, adjusting the mask to keep his disguise intact. "Oh, of course I am! How else would these presents get here? Magic reindeer and all that, you know." He tapped the side of his mask conspiratorially.

They tilted their head, scrutinizing him. "But… you have Papa’s smile."

Aventurine inwardly cursed his expressive features but quickly recovered. "Ah, clever observation! You see, your papa is on my ‘Nice’ list every year. We share a bit of Christmas spirit—it’s why my smile looks so familiar."

The child beamed, satisfied with the explanation. "Did the reindeer really fly you here?"

"Absolutely," Aventurine replied, his tone solemn as he leaned in closer. "And let me tell you a secret—they love carrots and sugar cubes. So, if you leave them out next year, they’ll be extra fast."

The child’s awe was palpable. "I will! But… why are you still here? Don’t you have more presents to deliver?"

Aventurine smiled beneath the mask, feeling a warmth he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge. "I do, but I had to make sure the most special house on my list got the perfect gifts." He gently booped their nose.

The child giggled and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Santa."

Aventurine's chest tightened at the pure innocence of the moment. He hugged them back, careful not to break the illusion.

When the child finally went back to bed, clutching their stuffed animal and wearing a smile bright enough to rival the stars, Aventurine stood and adjusted his costume. You returned quietly, your eyes soft as you took in the scene.

"That was... beautiful," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him.

Aventurine chuckled softly, pulling you close. "Sometimes, the greatest gamble isn’t in the game but in the act of keeping the magic alive."

You kissed his cheek through the mask, feeling the silly fabric against your lips. "Merry Christmas, my gambler."

"And to you, my darling. Now, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll have to deal with the chaos of unwrapping."

As the two of you retreated, Aventurine couldn’t help but glance back at the tree, feeling a rare sense of peace. For all his risks, for all his calculations, this moment—this joy—was worth more than any gamble he’d ever won.

I don't know if you guys ever saw that meme but it was something like “I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus” but it's actually the dad dressed up as santa and I kept thinking about it while writing this, maybe I'll write something with that prompt? 🤷‍♀️