Forgive Yourself If Today Was A Bad Day. 

I’ve seen a lot of posts on my dash tonight about users who are threatening suicide, with other Tumblr members posting in effort to try to get ahold of them. I think you all should see this:

IF THERE IS EVER A TUMBLR USER WHO HAS POSTED A GOOD-BYE MESSAGE, SUICIDE NOTE, VIDEO, OR ANYTHING OF THE SORT, PLEASE FOLLOW THIS POST.

1. Scroll to the top of your dashboard.

2. See the circular question mark icon at the top? It’s the third one over from your home symbol. Click on that, and a screen similar to the one in the picture will come up.

3. Where you can type in questions, the box with the magnifying glass at the top, type in the word “suicide.”

4. Click on the first link that shows up. It should say, “Pass the URL of the blog on to us.”

5. Type in the user’s URL and tell Tumblr admin that the user is contemplating suicide and has posted a message indicating that they are going through with it or will be attempting. Hit send! Tumblr administration will perform a number of actions to contact the user and take the necessary steps to prevent the suicide.

TUMBLR: THIS COULD SAVE A USER’S LIFE. PLEASE DO NOT IGNORE SUICIDE THREATS.

Reblog this to keep other users aware. Suicide isn’t a joke, and neither is someone’s life. If you didn’t know this, someone else may not, either. Pass it on.

.

this is pure talent

As I announced, my digital drawing of Moon Knight as a real knight - an inspiration for an upcoming AU-fic. 🌙

Writing and drawing requests are open

harry's home

a/n: inspired by the beginning of 'As it Was': "Come on, Harry, we wanna say “Goodnight” to you".

Summary: Harry arrives home late, now he has to deal with the wrath of his 3 year old.

Warnings: none! domestic fluff?

Pairings: Dad!Harry x black!reader (doesn't mean the exception can't read)

-

It’s 10:05pm when Harry finally walks through the door of his home. He knew everyone would be asleep by now, so he’ll have to settle with giving a kiss on the head to a sleeping Mara, his three year old. And a cuddle with his sleeping wife. Once she knocks out, she knocks out.

The light in the living-room is left on by her, but other than that it’s as silent as a mouse.

He’s just ecstatic to be home. Any time he walks through the door, it's like his soul can take a deep breath, breathing in how tranquil it’ll always be. He hangs his keys on the key rack; his coat goes in the small closet, and shoes on the shelf there.

Once he’s finished, he sighs contentedly, dropping his hands to sit on his hips. Smiling as he looks around at the place — leaving his suitcase on the floor— that was created home alongside his loving, tactful wife, as a result of giving them Mara.

The never-ending photos on the wall in the living-room make him naturally smile.

Their wedding day: where Harry holds both their hands up in cheer as they walk down the aisle, eyes never breaking contact. Mara’s first birthday: her face covered to the rim with icing as she smiles, her father’s smile, and holds up both hands trying to get a hand on the camera in curiosity. A very, very old, blurry picture of y/n and Harry at his first concert. They were 16 and always took the time to cringe at their choices of wardrobe.

Mara’s knickknacks are all over the floor.

When he yawns, he knows it’s time to hurry up, get ready for bed before he drops dead on the floor. That is definitely not how he’d like his family to see him first thing in the morning after not being here for a week.

He grabs his suitcase by the handle and heads upstairs.

When he hits the first step, he looks up, realizing something is off. His three-year-old sits on the top step, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Baby, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“Mara is upset with daddy,” she answers, clipped.

Her plump lips form duck lips with how upset she is, causing her cheeks to puff out even more than they do. Eyes glared at her father. He can also see the glisten on her skin, knowing her mother has dipped her in a bottle of Aquaphor. She’s dressed in her new Encanto sleep dress. Her new obsession. Her curls are braided down in two plait braids. He assumes, but her lavender, silk bonnet blocks him from seeing.

He has no idea how long she’s been waiting on the step for him. But he knows her sneaky little self waited until her mother fell asleep to do so.

“Why is my bunny upset with daddy?” He asks, he so terribly wants to climb up those stairs and throw her into his arms. But she’s upset and doesn’t like physical affection while being so.

“Daddy, you said a week. It’s been years!” She squalls, her eyes go wide at her admission.

“It’s been exactly seven days, what calendar are you looking at?”

“You were 'upposed to be home with the sun!”

“I know, but there were many mess ups today.”

“Mara is upset with daddy,” she parrots, standing up. Sweeping over his reasoning, it didn’t matter what happened, when Mara expected her father home; she expected to see him then.

“Daddy is sorry and he hasn’t seen Mara in a week, and he would really, really love it if he could give you a hug and kiss.”

She considers it, her forefinger bouncing off her chin and her right foot tapping on the floor. It feels like forever, but within thirty seconds she nods her head, yes, stands up, and leaves her arms open and out.

No matter what Harry thought, his two girls would always run him.

He gleams as he shifts up those stairs at lightning speed, and growls lightly when he picks her up and sits her in his arms, like a swing. The front of her legs against his chest, bum sat on his arms, and her arms hook around his neck.

She laughs at the tickles he sends to her side.

“Daddy missed you so much, sweet pea” he kisses all over her face. It’s been a week since he’s seen her cherub face in person; he doesn’t know how he’ll do months at a time.

“How much?”

“Oh, that’s a tough question,” he murmurs. “Hmm… is a penny big?”

“No,” she laughs.

“You’re right, how about a button?”

“Daddy, you’re silly,” she laughs harder.

He snaps his finger, eyes going wide like a daffy scientist. “You wanna know how much I missed you?” He knows she wants to know oh so badly.

She nods eagerly.

“The size… of the… moon!” He throws her in the air once, catches her, before he tickles, watching her charged body squirm around. Her tiny hands try with her all might to push his hands away.

“Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!” She laughs, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

They both laugh once he stops and she rests herself against his chest. Her glare, pouty mouth, and crossed demeanor are long gone. Mara holds onto her father tightly; some fingers in her right hand playing with his ear lobe-- her finger rattles his drop earring-- something she’s picked up from her mother.

“Daddy’s sorry he’s been gone a lot lately.” he whispers, rocking her softly and kisses the crown of her head.

“It’s okay, Daddy here now.” she slurs.

“I love you so much, bigger than the galaxy.”

“Infinity” the word comes out garbled, a tough one for her, but he understands it perfectly.

“Even that” he hums, his free hand running up and down her back.

“Daddy” Mara sits up from her position.

“Hm?”

Her hands rest on his scruffy cheeks. “I’m sorry for being upset at you. ‘Didn’t mean it.” Her eyes look up into his as her bottom lip pops out. “I just wanted to say ‘night”

“Hey, there’s no need for that, alright.” He kisses her nose. “If that’s how you feel then that’s fine, I’m proud you talked to me about it”

She smiles at his assurance, before she rests back against him.

“Night, night”

“Goodnight, baby”

He rocks her to sleep, in the dimly lit hallway, just them two in the middle of the night. It’s things like this that he cherishes.

Before he grasps it, she snores lightly. Mouth hung slightly open. He walks into her lavender room: sets her in her big girl Princess bed, tucks her in, fixes her bonnet, and kisses her cheek, then her nose before he whispers a good night.

He checks his watch to see it’s 10:35. Yep, she’ll definitely be Oscar the Grouch in the morning.

He looks at her one more time before he retreats into his shared bedroom. His first stop is his bed. Where, peacefully, his other half sleeps. The blanket covered her nose. Her arms lay under her head, and from the small peek he can see of her shoulder, she’s wearing his favorite nightie.

He was meant to be here mid-afternoon but problem after problem arose, delaying his trip home.

He walks towards her figure and kisses her cheek; Goes in the closet to gather his sleeping clothes (a pair of sweats) and heads to the bathroom to wash up.

Once he’s out of the shower, smelling like vanilla. He walks out and shimmies behind your body. Of course, you’re still out like a light.

His tattooed arm rests over your torso and his leg fits right in between yours. He breathes in your hair through your bonnet. Manuka honey has become his favorite thing since you’ve used it.

It reminds him of home. You remind him of home. His little one reminds him of home.

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

im actually sitting here crying in my bed at 23:00

he did it

pls i cant do this right now 😣

this picture i need it in a bubba blurb ASAPPPPP -🫶

OKAY HEREEEEE

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

“Daddy?”

A soft voice calling for him made its way to Harry’s ears, a voice that belonged to his three year old son, who was curiously peeking his head inside his home studio.

Ever since his little boy was born, Harry made the decision to switch everything up regarding his career, taking longer breaks between albums and tours and building a full equipped music studio in his home. He just didn’t want to be away from his wife and son, specially during his first years of life.

“Hey buddy, what are you doing over there?” Harry said as he moved his hands away from the piano tiles and looked over at the little boy who was just a replica of him: same green eyes, dimples and brown curls. It blew anyone’s mind when they saw how alike they looked.

He had been working on the same melody all day, he was in the process of writing his 5th studio album, the first one as a father, and he wanted everything to be perfect. The album was all about fatherhood, falling in love with his wife all over again and overall this new chapter of his life, he was happier than ever and that’s what the songs he had been writing told.

“Come here, baby,” Harry opened his arms, motioning the little boy to join him “I’ve missed you, would you like a cuddle?” his son curiously dragged his small feet across the room, Harry had noticed how much he liked his studio, and how fond of music his son was, always asking his mummy to play his favorite songs around the house and his daddy to sing for him. It warmed Harry’s heart every single time.

“Cuddle daddy.” the little boy mumbled as he climbed on the piano’s bench -with Harry’s help, of course- and placed himself on his lap. If there was something that Harry wouldn’t change for anything was cuddling his son, so when his baby adjusted himself on his lap and buried his face on his ribs, putting his little arms around his broad frame, he could feel his heart growing twice is size.

Harry kissed the little mop of curls and lingered his lips on the crown of his baby’s head, sometimes he couldn’t quite understand how he got so lucky to have the perfect little family. He found his soulmate when he was 22 and knew he wanted to marry her, he put a ring on her finger at 29 and now, at 31, he had a little bundle of joy that was a mixture of him and the love of his life.

Life couldn’t get any better.

So with a full heart and a sudden burst of inspiration, he went back to playing melodies on the piano, careful not to disturb the little boy in his arms.

“Music?” the boy beamed as he moved his little face from its position on his dad’s ribs, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm over hearing him play “That’s right bubba, daddy’s playing music, you like when daddy does that, don’t you?” Harry cooed, he was man enough to admit that his little boy made him melt with every single thing he did.

“Play daddy” his son said as he sat up straight on his lap, his gaze fixed on the piano in front of him, and since his wish is Harry's command, he continued playing soft melodies for him.

Harry wanted to take that moment in and save it forever, he was unaware at that moment, but his wife was standing at the door frame, capturing the both of them in a picture that would be part of his album's booklet in the future.

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accurate

tell me this is not aaron hotchner creating a valentine's card 😡

accurate 😔

oh yeah i love reading (fan-fictions to dissociate).

girls will have one (1) good day when they convince themselves they've never been unwell in their life and the next day the horrors will return