Random thing for people to consider is that since Laika is the saint of one way trips should Felicette be known as the saint of safe landings since she did make it back to the ground safely

@theartofmadeline
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if i look back, i am lost
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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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Not today Justin

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@yourlocalangel333
Random thing for people to consider is that since Laika is the saint of one way trips should Felicette be known as the saint of safe landings since she did make it back to the ground safely
Fun fact: I was originally planning to make this an aestheticblog. Welp. Look where that got me.
i hate dottore so much like why does he wear that ugly mask why does he have that ugly blue hair why does he wear a stupid ass harness why isn't he bent over the desk right now why isn't he crying so prettily for me right now why isn't he begging for me rn why isn't he moaning or whimpering doing whatever noises he can make while getting fucked relentlessly by me rn why isn't he murmuring "sorry" rn to me when he was being so cocky earlier,why isn't he getting spanked by me rn,why isn't
Nothing after the end of March feels real. Summer '26 is never gonna happen. Is this normal?
well… It is now April. i still feel like i am floating in the same void i described back when i made that original post. i wonder if this is normal.
tumblr angels do not support ICE btw 🩷🪽
i cant go back... my vison is blurry...
its so empty without u (shitty fanfic about me and my friendwho got banned from a game we used to play often)
this was not proofread + i wrote it tired af + english is not my first language so please forgive me for how shitty this is
Sorry about the weird 2nd person to 3rd person switching, this story was originally chat messages between us that I just copy pasted and added onto to make it more cohesive.
hurt no comfort, pining, tw grief, tw loss of a loved one, tw alcohol use
it was late at night, the gala at the bar is going on in full force. i had finally dragged myself outside, returning to the bar we always used to go to now that there was a event happening. though despite the joyous atmosphere all around me i sit there with my head i my hands.
...that fateful day was still fresh i my mind…
i sit at the bar depressively, drinking my sorrows away, searching for answers at the bottom of my glass. the sweet flavour of my drink is a cruel irony to the suffering I'm here to forget… i look at the wood of the table, attempting to look away from the seat beside me. i could not bear to look, as it would just remind me of you no longer sitting there. my only comfort was the dim candlelight illuminating the bar. someone is up at the stage now… i catch myself looking over to the seat beside me to see your reaction, though once more I am hit with the realization that you're no longer there…
all sound around me appears muffled to me. i simply miss the comfort of your voice, talking as we drink together. I keep thinking i saw you from the corner of my eye, though its never you…
I decide to leave the gala. it feels empty without myfriends. the rain outside the door pricks my skin, a perfectly melancholic and haunting undertone to my mood, like a beautiful song with notes woven from my suffering. the walk home is a quiet one, without anyone to talk to the rain is my only companion now…
as i open the door to my house and step inside i look around, the vase full of flowers you gave me still standing on the wooden counter, the first signs of wilt starting to show. tears start to well up within my eyes as i take the vase and hug it to my body, keeping it close as if it was you. "why…" tears begin to flow out of my eyes like little stars, the moonlight pouring through the window, illuminating my face and the flowers i am holding. "why must this happen to me…?" a sob shakes through me, the flowers i hold being a reminder of you. its just now that the reality of what happened sets in… i will truly never see you again. its long before it happens, but eventually my eyes begin to grow heavy, and the lullaby of the rain and wind outside whisks me away to the land of dreams, the vase still i my cold hands…
the next day i slowly wake up to the cold, hardwood floor pressing against me and the birds chirping outside my window. i realize how my back aches from falling asleep on the floor last night, the black fabric of my dress clinging to my body, still a little bit wet from the tears i shed last night. "oh witch…" -i mutter under my breath- "if you were still here i could've fallen asleep in your arms once more…" a sigh escapes my lips. i get up from the floor, feeling like i was pulling myself out of quicksand. i grab the vase i had fallen asleep holding and put it back on the counter. i look at it for a few more seconds, but as i look at them it feels like time stretches and slows around me. i quickly avert my eyes as to not be reminded of you all too much again. i walk over to my kitchen island and pour some ground coffee into my coffeepot. once its brewed i pour the coffee into a mug, the bitter goodness of the coffee pouring into my mouth in an almost pathetic attempt to pull me into reality and away from you, away from sleep and my grief. i cant help but remember all the times you've sat across from me at this table, drinking tea, having breakfast or even just talking late into the night…
Nothing after the end of March feels real. Summer '26 is never gonna happen. Is this normal?
Good evening every entity ! May the stars light your path and may the moon grant you wisdom. I wish upon you joy and peace. Go! Do something nice for yourself! This angel demands you to do so. ♡
I love but hate sleep. I love taking naps in sunny spots with my wings (or whatever human equivalent I can find) shielding my eyes from the sun rays but I hate having to sleep at night. What if I like the dark and the quiet and the fast wifi? We should be like cats. Sleep a little sometimes and stay up at night except for naps. The cats have it figured out.
love the concept of angels having bird mannerisms because it implies that we fly into windows and fuckig die