#merry Christmas Eve!

[glassiskies]

Aziraphale receives an unexpected gift.

[skycowboys]

What is the largest Pegasus in your setting?

Hi there!

There are a few contenders -

A mythical pegasus called the Megasus. They manifest in a couple of different legends - sometimes they manifest in dense storm clouds, and other times they're a sasquatch-style beast.

On the more tangible side, there are heavy broadwings who max out at about 17-18 hands with big, big wings compared to their bodies and to the wings of other broadwings. These pegasi need long runways and aren't very agile. They aren't the usual choice of a pilot but they're good for beginners due to their easy temperaments and "slow" flying.

There are also big, big longwings who get to the 18-20 hand range but are lighter and more agile like warmbloods and thoroughbreds. These are perfect for specialized pilots who want or need to fly hundreds and hundreds of miles in one go.

Meanwhile the average longwing is about 16ish hands:

~ Larn

[loki-us]

Best Lokius moments: season 2 edition (post 2/2)

[spnstillstudies]

4/327 (KO-FI♡)

S1E04, “Phantom Traveler”

[cinematicnomad]

merry christmas eve to all who celebrate. here’s my yearly charcuterie board for your viewing pleasure

[pleasanttaleswithkaityb]

The Pleasant Twins Household

Spring, Year 1

The air in the Pleasant household crackles with the energy of pivotal moments and quiet realizations. A kiss, charged with the possibility of mended hearts, marks a fresh start for Angela and Dustin, while Sienna's bright gaze upon her birthday cake captures the innocence and excitement of youth's new frontier. In the background, Lilith's contemplative silence speaks to the undercurrents of time slipping by, her presence a quiet note amid the family's crescendo of celebration and change.

Previous || Next

Check out the The Beginning of the Pleasant Twins' Spring!

[chimeramouseprincess]

Starry Night

On the cold chilly winter nights, Theo enjoys dates under the stars with Liam. Whether it be laying in the back of his truck or a small campout. @theoraekenapperciation

[ashshmee]

ok but james is rudolph the red nosed reindeer and sirius is hermey the outcast elf

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

The Fifth Day of Gallavich Fix-It Christmas is here!

Chapter 5 :: Everything is just love in disguise [11x09]

The dark purple circles under Mickey’s eyes were getting darker everyday. Ian stared at them from across the table as Mickey dove into a bowl of oatmeal. There was a full cup of hot black coffee in his hand, since they moved to the west side they could make a pot of coffee and they’d both get two cups, if they wanted it since there was no one else to fight off for the most precious commodities.

-or, Mickey can't sleep on the Westside and Ian intends to fix that

[1-800-iluvhockey]

merry christmas eve!!!!

here are some habs gems I found for the occasion 🎄

scroll down to see the happy hab!! 😁😁

[didoofcarthage]

The Nativity by Francesco Vanni

Italian, c. 1600

red wash over black chalk, heightened with white gouache and squared in black chalk

J. Paul Getty Museum

[dailypepe]

Pepe in A Muppets Christmas: Letters to Santa

[malefurry]

Untitled - @Akatan_art

[vinnieplushies]

Christmas in the Sea Piplup and Mantyke by Pokémon Center

[darkchocolateoreozfox]

Wrenching

Shouta Aizawa x Reader (1258 words)

This is sfw, but this blog is not. Minors and ageless blogs DNI. I check each notification.

Warnings: angst, loss, low self-esteem, unhealthy coping mechanisms. Not quite a happy ending?? Kind of a neutral ending.

Notes: This is just a slightly modified EraserJoke fic from my Ao3, where I removed all things I deemed unique to their relationship. You don't have to be like Joke to enjoy this one! lol

Also, this was written to be pre-canon, but I suppose it doesn't matter. Anyway, enjoy!

---------------------------

His form is sloppy.

You never thought you’d think that while watching Shouta train, but it was true. Left, right, left, right; he struck at the chest-high wooden pole, wrapped in thick rope for extra toughness with the swords he held in each hand, one at a time. The swords he’d never been able to grasp…

Not in the way Shingo had.

Your heart ached at the thought of the aged Pro, Shouta’s father, who’d died just a couple of weeks prior. He’d been known for his technique with his double swords, on top of the Erasure Shouta had inherited. The sword skills, however, had not been passed down quite so smoothly.

Shouta hated it. He always had; that much you knew, but he’d only gotten like this once before, when his cloudy-haired friend had been killed. Somehow, loss made him that much angrier at his perceived deficit. 

The imperfect form wasn’t all because of that, though. You knew that. Shouta was injured, but he wasn’t letting that stop him. He wasn’t listening to reason at all. That was why you had come in the first place.

Shouta grunted each time he swung, whether from frustration or pain you weren’t sure, but you knew that the rigorous exercise couldn’t be good for the cracked ribs that lay under his purpled flesh. The blades had cleaved through some of the rope now, and were working deep grooves into the wood. Splinters scattered every which way with every slash, but Shouta wasn’t satisfied. No, he wouldn’t be until the pole was cut fully in half.

Alas, it was not to be. With one last swing, Shouta cut halfway through the wood, but when he pulled back, the sound that left him was definitely pained. The sudden jerk had aggravated his injury, and with a strangled cry his hand sprang off of the sword’s handle, like it had burned him. He stumbled hard into a sitting position, driving another sharp, pained sound from his lips. Instinctively, he curled around the source of his misery, hugging his midsection and shaking. You felt another sympathetic pang.

The pang worsened, however, when the first sob left him.

Shouta’s wasn’t crying from the pain; at least, you didn’t think. No, those tears were frustrated. Harsh and raw and angry, with gritted teeth and tightly shut eyes trying to keep them in. When Shouta shed tears, they were like this. 

Shouta rasped out a swear, his shoulders shuddering. With a cracked, furious yell, he threw his other sword to the side, so hard that it clanged against the ground, cursing again.

Before you could think about it, you were at his side, gently rubbing his back and stroking his hair, murmuring comforts with her own voice deeply pained. “I know, I know… It’s okay, Shouta. It’s going to be okay.”

Shouta’s sobs began to quiet, but he said nothing. He didn’t try to stop you, so she just kept talking to him. He just glared at the ground with reddened, glossy eyes, chest heaving erratically with his shaky breaths. He just looked so angry at the world.

“After everything,” Shouta finally growled, muscles tensing, “After everything, I still can’t do a freaking thing right. Couldn’t get my act together for Oboro… F-For Dad… I really am useless.”

“You are not,” you said firmly. Shouta looked up at her, and behind the biting rage, she saw pure misery in his eyes. “Come on, okay?” you added gently. “Let’s go get you cleaned up. I’ll get you something to drink, too.”

Shouta grunted, keeping his gaze bitterly averted. Even though he was so close now, to you he felt hundreds of miles away. Uoi wondered if he’d even heard you. He just shook with the force of another suppressed sob, lowering his head more as if intentionally obscuring his tear-streaked features. 

“I feel…” he croaked after a long pause, not lifting his head. He swallowed. “Think I’m gonna pass out.”

Despite the alarm that filled you at that statement, you nodded as calmly as you could. “Okay. Okay. I’ve got you. Just try to breathe.”

Shouta nodded, still not looking up, but he seemed to follow your instructions. He didn’t speak any more for a time, letting her keep him steady. When at last the color seemed to return to his ears and neck (all you could really observe at the the moment), he heaved a shaky sigh. “Dad got hit, and I went berserk. I… I should’ve kept my wits about me. I should have gone to get help. I could’ve gotten Recovery Girl, or at least the paramedics. I could have… he could have…” he finally whispered, voice strained as if he was trying to force his voice back to normal now that his tears were subsiding. 

“There was no saving him once he got hit,” you replied evenly. “You did everything you could. You helped to defeat the villain who killed him, and you were with Shingo as he passed.”

Shouta said nothing.

At some point you were able to walk him into the house, past the rooms of the house’s inhabitants– his brother Aki, emotionally exhausted and hopefully asleep; his other brother Hanzo, also physically exhausted from his urgent move back home and no doubt asleep, if his soft snores were any indication; and his mother Asuka, now alone in her futon. You had Shouta sit on the couch and brought him a water to sip before you went to run a bath for him. Once it was prepared, you returned, finding Shouta sitting hunched over just about identically to before. 

“Hey,” you whispered. “How are you feeling now? Still faint?”

Shouta shook his head silently.

“Good,” you murmured, kneeling so that you could get as close to making eye contact as possible. “I ran a bath for you. Go get in, okay? It’s gonna be all right.” You paused, before adding a soft, “I love you, you hear me?”

Shouta mumbled something, fatigued and clumped together, but it sounded like, “I love you too.” You moved closer so that your bodies touched, and Shouta rested his damp forehead on your shoulder. Then finally, finally, he lifted his head, his eyes grateful and somehow remorseful, yet bleary and almost unfocused even as they met yours. Still, they met yours. That was all you needed.

“Think you can get up?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, good. I’m right here,” you reminded him as the both of you stood up together, Shouta wincing from the pain still fresh in his ribs. He was due for a shave, you observed, and he had dark rings under his eyes. He looked so worn and brittle, but affection still surged in your chest at the sight of him, if not more so now than before. “Come on, Shouta,” you urged gently, guiding him to the bathroom.

Once the two of you arrived, you reached up to card her fingers through his hair once before turning to leave and give him privacy. That was, until he spoke again. “You’d best go home. I’ll be fine. You need your rest.” 

“So do you,” you retorted at once. Shouta exhaled through his nose, his gaze lowering. 

“I’m going to be all right,” Shouta assured you almost half-heartedly.

You sighed, knowing you probably shouldn’t believe him. “I’m gonna stay until you get out of the bath, in case you get dizzy again. Then I’ll go home. Call me tomorrow and tell me how you’re doing, okay?” Shouta nodded, and reluctantly, you took your leave.

[beatlesdiscord]

George: just so we're clear, the Grinch never really hated Christmas

George: he just hated people, and I mean, can you blame him?