Pinned
Reblogged
Here are all the new kitty emojis on discord. They are all animated so users without nitro won't be able to use them, but thanks to baniknik on discord, I was able to grab them and share them here
Have fun using these!
Reblogged mail-me-a-snail
Amanda Vähämäki (Finnish, b. 1981, Tampere, Finland) - In the Night from Kolor Klimax: Nordic Comics Now, 2012, Drawings
Source: fantagraphics.com
Reblogged
IT IS A CHRISTMAS MERICAL || Loid Forger ||
A/n: maybe it's a poly relationship , maybe it's not! Who the fuck knows....i do, you decide.
Snow drifted lazily outside the Forger home, living room filled with the soft glow of multicolored lights and the smell of freshly baked gingerbread. You were curled up on the couch beneath a blanket, hands gently resting over your lower stomach,still flat, still secret.
Well…a secret to everyone except the man currently trying and currently trying to wrap presents with precision.
Loid had known for weeks.
A spy’s instincts didn’t miss anything,not the nausea, not the exhaustion, not the way your hands kept drifting to your tummy whenever you thought no one was looking.
He hadn’t said a word until your doctor confirmed it, but now…he was practically glowing.
Though he was hiding it rather poorly
⸻
Anya, meanwhile, was not paying attention to presents.
The pink-haired psychic froze mid–cookie bite.
Her eyes widened.
Her pupils dilated.
Her little mouth dropped open like a cartoon character.
She gasped—loud.
So loud Loid nearly stabbed himself with a ribbon cutter.
“Papa!!! Mama!!!!!!!”
Loid straightened, smoothing his shirt.“Anya, indoor voices!!"
“YOU’RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!” she shrieked, pointing dramatically at your stomach like she was unveiling a wanted criminal.
Loid dropped his head into his hand.
You blinked. “A-Anya—”
Anya now stands frozen in front of you and Loid, one hand pressed to her mouth now as the other clutched Bond’s fur for emotional support. Her little pink pajamas have candy canes on them, and her hair is sticking up in every direction from excitement, but nothing compares to the wide-eyed awe she is experiencing right now.
“IT IS A...” she throws her arms out like she’s about to announce the end of the world, “A CHRISTMAS. MERICAL!”
You blink. Loid blinks. Bond whines.
Loid gently clears his throat. “Miracle, Anya. The word is miracle. And… that’s not exactly how any of this works.”
“YES IT IS,” Anya argues, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed with suspicious intensity. “Mama wishes for baby. Papa gives Mama kiss. BOOM. Baby. Christmas merical.” She nods very seriously, as though delivering a biology lecture she barely understands.
Warmth creeps up your neck instantly. Loid turns a very alarming shade of red.
And then, because of course the world hated Loid,Yor walks in holding a tray of hot cocoa and cinnamon bread.
“Oh! Did Anya find out?” she beams, cheeks warm, eyes wide with joy. “Loid, I told you she would be excited—OH! And look at you, blushing like that! Should we tell her how you helped make the baby?”
Loid nearly drops his mug. “Yor...! No...that...We...That’s not...!!”
Anya gasps again. “PAPA MADE BABY?! PAPA A STORK?!?!”
You nearly choke. Loid pinches the bridge of his nose in pure despair.
“No! No I am not a stork.” He coughs. “This is a conversation for when you’re older.”
Anya squints at him. Hard. She taps her forehead. “Anya already knows,” she claims confidently. “Anya reads textbooks. And minds. Mostly minds.”
Loid actually flinches.
Yor sets down the tray and kneels beside Anya, smiling brightly, absolutely no help whatsoever. “Anya, you’re going to be a big sister! Isn’t that wonderful? You’ll get to teach them things! Oh—maybe not everything,” she adds, glancing innocently toward Loid. “Your papa looked like he fainted a little when he found out.”
“YOR.” Loid’s voice cracks in three different emotional registers.
You laugh softly, resting a hand over your small but growing bump. Loid notices instantly—his expression softening, warmth overtaking panic. He steps closer and gently places his hand over yours, thumb brushing your skin, grounding himself in the moment.
“But I'm so happy for you both!” Yor beamed. “Oh, Loid, you must have been working very hard to make this happen!”
Loid’s soul left his body.
“I...LET ME EXPLAIN—” he sputtered, face now scarlet, “children are...that is.Y/N and I...there is a biological process—”
Anya cupped her cheeks.
“Papa is BLUSHING. Papa is EMBARRASSED. Papa did THE BABY THING.”
Loid tensed, then stood“STOP CALLING IT THAT.”
You reached over, resting a gentle hand on Loid’s arm.“It’s alright, Loid. They’re excited.”
Loid sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.He finally looked at you, expression softening instantly“You’re sure you’re feeling okay? Not too tired? Not dizzy? Do you need a pillow? Water? Something warm? Should you be on the couch—”
“Loid,” you laughed, grabbing his hand tugging him to sit back down, “I’m pregnant, not dying.”
Yor gasped.“Oh my goodness...should we bubble-wrap the entire house?”
“PLEASE DON’T,” Loid groaned.
Anya climbed onto the couch, pressing her ear to your belly.“Hello, baby! It is I, Anya! Your big sister! You will love me the most!”
Loid sighed dropping his shoulders. "Anya, that’s not—”
Anya “SHH. Baby is listening.”
Loid. "I am never getting any sleep.”
“It’s true,” you say, smiling at Anya. “There’s going to be a new little Forger in the house.”
Anya opens her arms wide and screeches, “FAMILY EXPANSION!!! BOND, WE ARE GETTING A BABYYYYY.”
Bond barks, spinning in confused circles.
Loid chuckles, just barely recovering, though still pink around the ears. “Anya, calm down—”
Too late.
She tackles both you and Loid in the world’s clumsiest, most heartfelt hug. “I PROMISE TO BE BEST SISTER EVER,” she declares. “I WILL HELP BABY LEARN PEANUTS. AND CARTWHEELS. AND SECRET MISSIONS.”
You and Loid share a look.
Loid mutters under his breath, “Perhaps fewer secret missions…”
Yor clasps her hands together, eyes sparkling. “This is going to be the happiest Christmas ever!”
Anya nods again, hair bobbing. “Christmas merical,” she insists.
Loid sighs, defeated, smiling despite himself. “Fine… merical.”
She beams triumphantly.
And in that small, warm, chaotic living room lights shimmering, cocoa steaming, Bond’s tail thumping—Loid leans close, presses a kiss to your temple, and whispers, so only you can hear.“Merry Christmas… and thank you. For this miracle.”
Christmas had come early for the Forgers.
And next year?
There would be one more stocking hanging by the fireplace.
