Welcometomypersonalhell098 - All Things End

Meemaw Bucchi should meet meemaw Felmier, both grandsons are in the same sport team, imagine both of them on the stadium with a shirt of them and screaming at the top of their lungs to crush the enemy team!

Oh... Oh God... OH MY GOD......

I need to draw this!!!!!!!!

All I can think about is them fighting/scolding anyone who had the AUDACY to stop them or shout louder than them.

Hello dears ! I am asking you to support my campaign to help me to reach my goal. I am now in bad need to your support to help me stay alive and safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place either on the level of livelihood or on the level of souls. I need your monetary support to ensble me to get the basic needs for my family till Rafah crossing point reopens to move my family to safety and peace.Pleasd help a family be alive through your small donations or througn your shares to others.Thank you so much for your stand beside people in need .

of course!! the go fund me is linked in this profiles description & i have reblogged a post explaining their situation

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Donate to Help us reunite with our kids who are stuck in Gaza, organised by Fadi Zakkout

Hi everyone, This Palestinian family from Gaza that I me… Fadi Zakkout needs your support for Help us reunite with our kids who

its yuu against the world,,,,and the world is full of NRC guys and 1(one) bird headmaster. 💔

imagine auburn's dorm uniform vignette is just her being like "ramshackle needs money. i need a job. AZUL HIRE ME." and he keeps throwing things at her to see how serious they are about working there and they're like. "i can work the afternoon shift. all of my classes are in the morning. i will work overtime. LET ME PROVE MYSELF." and he's just like "oml...what a poor soul. she's so desperate." because people willing to do ANYTHING are just so Sad to him.

3RD PRIZE WINNER, IDENTITY! (@identity-theft-101)

— SOFT MOMENTS WITH FLOYD LEECH (511 words)

To everyone else, Floyd Leech is rough. To you, Floyd Leech is the most gentle person you have ever met.

He fixes your crooked tie and smooths out the wrinkles in your vest each morning, brushing any stray eyelashes off your cheeks as you quip that his uniform is far worse. He makes sure you’re always presentable, and you make sure he looks even more disheveled by running your hands through his hair at every given opportunity. He looks like an attention starved puppy when you play with the strands, ruffling them every which way.

Floyd brings you pebbles he picks up when he wants your praise and head rubs, knowing that you understand his courting gestures even though others do not. You give him things you find around campus as well, whether it’s a bird feather or a shiny bottle cap or a spare coin left under the cafeteria table. He accepts each and every gift with delight, thankful he has someone like you by his side.

His heart pitter patters even harder for you when you hand him your jacket, whether it be too big on you or fits you just right, whenever it's raining. He doesn’t need it (really, he doesn’t), but he would be a fool to turn it down and reject your kind offer. Besides, that just means he gets to wrap you up in the jacket too as you run through the rain, maybe even lifting you into his arms as you curl up against his chest if the rain starts coming down heavier.

Floyd adores having you close just as much as he adores surprises from you. One of his favorite forms of affection is having you tackle him, running full speed towards him with a bright grin, launching off the ground with a yell of his name and he catches you in his arms. He’s never missed even once, not when he’s distracted or upset. He’ll catch you no matter what, squeezing you tightly (just the way he knows you like.)

Tackling him isn’t the only way you surprise him. Usually people on campus are too scared to mess with him, but he does occasionally get the little guppies who want to pick a fight with him. He never thinks they’re worth squeezing, especially when he’s in a bad mood (and especially when he’s with you.) He doesn’t need your protection—you and him both know that—but that doesn’t stop you from jumping in his opponents line of fire to yell at them to stop antagonizing him. You protecting him is enough to send both of them into shock, Floyd’s joyful laughter ringing throughout the school.

Ah, his little shrimpy is so cute! Jumping to his defense like he’s about to do something bad...you should know better than anyone that he doesn’t need help, but the fact that you run to his side, bristling as if you can defend him—he’d be lying if he said it didn’t amuse him. You’re just too cute for your own good, really. He loves you so much.

-> floyd's fishies . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @welcometomypersonalhell098 @dove-da-birb

ok so obviously leona fic, did we ever expect anything else, recently ive been thinking a lot about childhood friends aus with leona so how about that as a trope. THANKS POOKIE THIS EVENT KICK STARTED A MASSIVE LEONA RAMBLING FOR ME SO EVEN IF I DIDNT WIN THIS WOULDA BEEN AWESOME <33

2ND PRIZE WINNER, LOSER

— CHILDHOOD FRIENDS WITH LEONA KINGSCHOLAR (1117 words)

please note that the expressions of love in his this fic are platonic, but can be read as romantic pining if you wish!

Leona’s ears twitch as your footsteps echo down the halls, coming right up to his door before stopping. His tail starts swishing, almost absentmindedly, but the happiness he feels about you visiting is not absentminded in the slightest.

“Leona!” you whisper yell, cracking the door open as sneakily as your clumsy hands can, “Psst, Leona!”

He smirks, blatantly ignoring you. He hopes the swishing of his tail seems lazy, not happy. Overjoyed, even. Leona knows you won’t mind when you find him out—you’ve always been just weird enough to find him fun to be around and his attitude charming. He wishes more of the palace staff were like you.

“I know you can hear me, goofball!” you whisper louder, sliding into his room through the open door, shutting it softly behind you.

“Huh?” Leona drawls, turning around in his chair, “I thought that was a fly. You sure do a lot of buzzing for a herbivore.”

You purse your lips and pout at him, looking more amused than livid. Your acting always sucked, but he doesn’t tell you that in fear of you swatting at him and whacking his tail again.

It’s sensitive.

“The kitchen is empty. We could totally go in there and grab snacks.” you say, and the pout melts off your face like butter on a saucepan, “You’ve been studying all day, you haven’t had any time for me!”

Leona huffs, tail gently smacking against your cheek. You yowl dramatically and rub your cheek like he punched you, glaring at him with the smallest of smiles on your lips. You’ve always been that blunt with him, saying exactly what's on your mind even though you get scolded for it again and again. You’re the only one in this wretched place who doesn’t bow to him every time you see him, or hold your tongue every time you have an idea. You speak freely, happily, and Leona is thankful to have been with you since the two of you were in diapers.

Even if the gap between you would never be bridged.

After all, a person of your position should not talk that way to royalty, even though he’ll never be anything but a prince.

You drag him out of his thoughts and consequently, out of his room, glancing around the halls to check and see if anyone is there. Leona rolls his eyes but the action holds no malice, not when you grab his hand and yank him down the hallway, giggling quietly as if you’re about to steal cookies from the cookie jar.

Which, considering your destination, may just be your scheme.

Leona doesn’t get soft often, he doesn't get that heart-thumping loving feeling, but when he looks at you, that changes. He loves you, he knows that much. You’re his only friend in this suffocating palace, where he shoulders the burden of being the second born with every step he takes. But with you, his best friend, his only friend, he starts to feel like he’s plain old Leona.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It’s so easy to sneak around with you, even if you are a bit clumsier than he is. And sure, maybe it’s because he purposefully trips you on his tail (only for you to whisper that you thought his tail was too sensitive for that with mock anger in your tone) but that’s nothing you can prove.

Over the course of your childhood, there are plenty more of those moments. You and Leona both grow, even though sometimes you wish you could stay kids forever. It isn’t easy watching him mold to fit his role, watching the usual easygoing smirk he has on his face morph into a constant snarl and frown.

You think you’re the only one in the palace who sees him as Leona anymore.

It isn’t long before he receives an offer to go to a school called Night Raven, which he considers with careful attentiveness. You hesitantly watch from afar, not wanting him to leave you behind but also knowing deep down he’d be so much happier if he did.

Soon enough (too soon), you’re helping him pack his suitcases.

You hug him goodbye, face buried in his clothes, squeezing him tight. He promises to call you every night in a voice only you can hear, gruff and reassuring.

Of course, he has to add a jab about you looking like a puppy without its owner so he doesn’t seem too soft. You just blink back tears and agree with a choked up laugh. His expression goes soft once more, and you take it in like you’ll never see him again.

Once he boards, you watch his carriage until it disappears and there’s no one left watching beside you.

Leona keeps his promise and calls every night, telling you about the upperclassmen and how he got sorted into Savanaclaw, to no one’s surprise. You speculate which dorm you’d be put in if you were to go to Leona’s school, and he tells you “soft hearted herbivores like you would end up in Octavinelle or something like that.”

He sounds like he’s having fun. You’re glad.

There’s a small part of you that toys with the idea of going to NRC yourself—training  your magic to the point of being one of those exceptional mages the Head Mage seeks out. It’s not like you’ll never see Leona, he’s taken the necessary measures to ensure that you can visit campus whenever you please (oh, how he spoils you so) but it’s different. Things aren’t the same anymore and you know they never will be.

(That doesn’t stop you from training in secret. Leona always put everything he had into himself, so why wouldn’t you do the same?)

You don’t bat an eye when the carriage arrives again, standing stationary outside the palace. If anything, you figure it’s Leona coming back for some sort of official business, or at least that’s what you thought before the palace staff starts to whisper your name.

Your luggage, much like Leona’s exactly one year ago, is crammed into the entryway of the palace before you know it.

You’re in a daze the whole trip, painfully aware that you’re sixteen now, going to Night Raven College, you’re growing up more and more and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

But there’s also excitement, laced with a fair share of anxiety.

You’re going to see Leona again.

And this time, you two will be equals.

It’s the most difficult thing, composing yourself before you’re sorted by the mirror. It’s even more difficult keeping your head straight and not whirling around the room, looking for a pair of green eyes and a lazy, flicking tail. It’s even more difficult not to acknowledge the thrill that jolts through you when your name is called, knowing that Leona heard it, wherever he is in the room.

“Soft hearted herbivores like you would end up in Octavinelle.”

You hope, wherever you end up, you can be close to him like always.

-> leona's napping buddies . . . @vivigoesinsane @dove-da-birb