#pullis

[doe-prince]

You WILL look at Ullamaisa

[mothergo0se]

@forte-x is the sweet little who inspired this story… I hope you manage to keep your pants clean for the rest of the day — though we both know that’s a very big ask for someone like you.

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I hear it first — soft, airy, and unmistakable.

Pffft.

Then another, barely a few seconds later. A little stuttered push of air. I glance up from the kitchen, eyes moving toward the table where he’s been quietly coloring for the last twenty minutes. He shifts in his seat and lets out a little sigh, wiggling his hips.

Trying to pretend it didn’t happen.

I smile, arms folding across my chest as I lean against the doorway and just… watch.

My sweet boy is trying so hard today. He asked for undies this morning — with a pull-up underneath, of course — and promised he didn’t need any help remembering to go potty.

But his little body? It’s telling a different story.

He fidgets. Crosses his legs. One hand still colors, but the other sneaks down to give his tummy a subtle press.

Then I hear his tiny voice — almost too quiet to catch.

"It’s just a toot… just a toot… not yet."

Oh, baby.

He thinks I can’t hear. He thinks he’s fooling me.

A few more minutes pass. He shifts again, a little more urgently now, cheeks puffing as he holds his breath. I can see it. The squirming. The quiet panic.

And then… the crayon drops.

It rolls under the table, and he doesn’t even think. He gets down to squat and grab it — and that’s when it happens.

His whole body tenses. His back arches. His eyes go wide.

"Oh no… I was holding it… no no no—"

I see the way his hand darts behind him instinctively. A small gasp escapes him, and then—he bolts.

Tiny feet skitter down the hall toward the bathroom.

I follow slowly. Calmly. No need to rush. I already know.

From halfway down the hall, I hear him muttering to himself again, voice shaking.

"Okay okay, just finish… quick… maybe she didn’t hear it… just go now, I can fix it…"

When I reach the bathroom, the door is cracked open — and I peek inside.

And there he is.

Not on the potty.

Not even trying to sit.

He’s squatting in the far corner of the bathroom, Spiderman undies already halfway down his thighs, face red, bottom pushed out. His hands are braced against the wall, knees bent, and he's clearly still going. I hear a soft grunt and the quiet sound of mess meeting the seat of his pull-up.

I step inside and close the door behind me with a soft click.

He freezes.

His whole body tenses like a caught kitten. He doesn’t turn around. He just stares at the floor, shoulders quivering.

“Sweetheart,” I say gently, walking over. “What exactly are you doing over here, hmm?”

He lets out a shaky breath. His voice is barely a whisper.

“I didn’t make it…”

I crouch beside him, laying a hand softly on his back.

“No,” I say quietly. “You didn’t. But you knew you weren’t going to, didn’t you, baby?”

He nods once. Still doesn’t look at me.

“I tried to hold it… I really did…”

“I know,” I whisper, giving his back a slow rub. “But when you start to feel that bubbly tummy and those little toots, that’s your body telling you it’s time. You could’ve told Mommy. You still can, every time.”

He finally turns just enough to peek at me, eyes glistening.

“I didn’t want you to know…”

“Oh, honey,” I murmur, gently helping him walk over to the changing table so I can start cleaning him up, “Mommy always knows.”

He sniffles and closes his eyes as I peel away the heavily used pull-up and wipe him down slowly.

“But you don’t have to hide from me. Not ever. Accidents don’t make you a bad boy.”

As I get him into a fresh diaper and soft shorts, I catch his little voice again — barely a whisper against my neck as he wraps his arms around me.

“I didn’t wanna be a baby…”

I pull him in tighter, kiss the top of his head, and smile.

[oldnewyorklandia]

Grant W. Pullis. Construction of the New York Subway /Bowling Green Subway Station, New York, Jan, 19, 1909. read

[clockworkreapers]

Yall wanna see something cool?

This is my renfaire outfit, I am a dragon lady hehe

[vendimeyers]

Some Doctor Whooves concept sketches. If you even care.

[minnadekanpai]

dear mr urata "uratanuki" wataru, why the FUCK do you voice a character this FINE

IM TWEAKING OUT SHO IS SO BADDDD

[benzehime]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 𓂍

[oldnewyorklandia]

Granville W. Pullis. Construction of the New York Subway /Ashland Place and Lafayette Avenue, Brooklyn, 1911. read

[bibastibootz]

[glitch-the-artist]

Rip sleek.

Timber is owned by @radiant-vulpine

raily is owned by me

Sleek is owned by @axniety2

also master sb list is owned by @creepa-b0t-inc

[lolli-popples]

*looks out blinds at people happily enjoying my art*

these idiots... they don't even KNOW all the lore I have for that AU

[pattern-recognition]

the thrift shops in Nashville do not play around. i got two US 5-button sweaters and a British woolly pully, all 100% wool, plus an old school made-in-USA waffle knit thermal and an unpictured seersucker shirt for less than $30

[endeus]

pulli waived

[starlighnes]

Adam Schürk in Everyone is fucking crazy Folge 4

[oldnewyorklandia]

Pullis, Granville W. Times Sq. Sta., 1910.