#( best mama ever )

[turtleblogatlast]

Imo the most impressive thing Leo’s done is hold this pose for as long as he did while covered head to toe in gold paint:

[dixieandherbabies]

Dixie and her babies.

Oh yes! Feeling good! & looking excellent!

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

If I see one more post trashing on the Sonic movies just because they're not like the games and because of the human characters I'm going to explode and then punt the sun itself into their faces

GUUUYYYSSSSS. THERE'S THIS MAGIC THING CALLED A MULTIVERSE. THE SONIC MOVIES ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THE GAMES, THEY ARE IN AN ENTIRELY SEPARATE UNIVERSE. YOU SHOULD NOT BE JUDGING THEM BASED ON HOW WELL THEY FOLLOW THE GAME CANON, BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT THE GAMES. THE MOVIES AND THE GAMES CAN COEXIST AS SEPARATE UNIVERSES OF THE SAME CHARACTERS LIVING THEIR LIVES IN DIFFERENT WAYS, MKAY??

Once you accept this I can almost guarantee you'll be a much happier fan. I can testify. ��

Sonic Wachowski ≠ Game!Sonic. Because they grew up in different environments and around different people in different circumstances, and that changed the way they turned out. I believe that if Wachowski grew up the same way Game! did, he would've turned out like Game! did. I also believe that if Game! grew up the same way Wachowski did, he would've turned out like Wachowski did. The core of this character is the same. In both the movies and the games, he's the fastest thing alive, he LOVES running, he loves his friends, he loves chili dogs, he loves living, and he will fight for what he believes is right. 💙

Just take into account the different worlds, the different lives, the different influences, and the fact that the movies are not trying to imitate the games (I thought this was obvious from day 1?) and it'll be a lot more fun in this fandom for you. In fact, you'll find you're a lot happier when you're actually taking time to love and appreciate the things you're interested in rather than just nitpicking about everything. 👌😜

And if you don't like the movies, you can kindly leave them be as well as all those of us who DO enjoy the movies. If you only like the games, stick to the games. 💙

[mlady-magnolia]

Fucking around in modded Lethal Company 10/10

Feat. @i-am-a-fan being best son Dan Heng and dropping it during Kafka and Zhongli’s romantic dinner

[bumblingbabooshka]

Anyone wanna have a concerning mentor/mentee relationship with me where I benevolently overwrite your aberrant individuality in order to mold you into what I think is the best version of yourself? Shirt design by @tacodemuerte!

[allagashed]

[pastafossa]

It's technically Christmas so we had a mini celebration with mom at the physical rehab center, and they even let us get her into a wheelchair and roll her out to see Fozzie (who bless his heart, was VERY excited to see his Grammie but he made sure to be very very gentle coming up to her). The real celebration will come when she comes home, but I'll be honest - this felt like the best Christmas ever even if it was unconventional, because mama is doing great, I got to spend most of the day with her, and I could not be happier!

I obviously can't do a normal family photo since that would make me too identifiable but have this altered version of our Pasta Clan celebration pic I took and consider it a Pasta Family Wish that you all have just as lovely a holiday!

We also did exchange a couple gifts, despite saving the majority for mom when she gets home! I got an adooorable Mothman squishable, a FUCKING PENGUIN OODIE I AM IN IT RIGHT NOW, IT'S SO SOFT, and true to how well mom knows me: the King Daredevil funko. My shrine... it grows.

Merry Christmas and happy Yule my friends!

[apocalyptichearts]

May is Daisy’s mom in every way that counts.

[purplesoulsapphire]

Don’t Mess With Anya 😤

Resharing from Twitter.

Artwork Belongs To Original Artist.

[antispopausandstuff]

i think angella's design should've been one of those "we never see their full face" kinda types.

maybe she has a small set of wings ( or... rings... if you catch my drift ) around her eyes or a permanent 'shadow' over the top of her head.

imagine her wings being grand, big, and wide that people wonder how she's able to carry those on her back or fly with them, but she's actually way bigger than people believe, she just shifted her body's size ( but not weight ) to appeal more to the kingdom.

or her actual form could be something monstrous ( thinking of biblical angels or chimeras... ), one that she only showed to micah, but her form's revealed when glimmer, bow, or adora are terribly hurt.

like.

can you imagine.

[isa-ah]

crick is a few years older than isaiah... what if he had very faint i was a little boy memories of isaiahs mom before she died oxo

[photozoi]

The other day, the Mung Bean returned to visit his sisters. He had been gone a mere 5 days. Fava and Adzuki were ...surprised. They thought they had gotten rid of him permanently.

The excited trading places on the couch began. (Maneuvering for position.)

And then.....

Fava and Mom Solveig decided a "punishment" was in order for abandonment and mental distress. (And for returning to the now "Girls Only Allowed" Club.)

Somehow, this was not the reunion Mr Mung had anticipated, but it was immediate immersion into what he had left behind when he had gone to his new abode and so he felt Welcomed Home.

And afterward, the Nap. With Treats. Happiness all around.

Three Bean Salad, Mung, Fava, and Adzuki Bean with mom Solveig. Silken Windhounds

[dixieandherbabies]

Dixie and her babies.

Enjoy some of my purrs! You’re welcome…

[bedforddanes75]

everyone was so wrong for hating on take me home, country roads, because have you actually listened to it. it's BEAUTIFUL you can SUCK MY DICK

[corner-stories]

the whole "boyfriends" thing

Jean Kirschtein. Reiner Braun. High School AU. Chess Boards. Cigarettes. Mother-Son Conversations. 1657 words. (ao3.)

By dumbass teenage boy standards, Jean Kirschtein’s bedroom is fairly neat. Even if the odd marker or paint tube finds itself on the floor, every sock is either tucked into his drawer or tossed into the hamper, every sweater is hung cleanly in his closet or methodically placed on a hook near his door. Even his lacrosse sticks are leaning neatly against a wall. 

Reiner is usually able to find a place for himself, that place often being the bed or the floor, as it’s where he can best fit in the limited space. Today he sits with his back against the headboard, situated near the window on a chilly afternoon where the sky is covered with clouds. 

The size of the mattress may be small, yet Jean remains in front of him, his long legs folded as he balances a mixed media sketchbook on his knee. Despite the modestly-sized chess board between them, Jean is a lot more concerned with doodling than engaging in the game. 

Every few moves they’ll pass the lit cigarette between them, though as the pieces get scattered over the board Jean finds himself accepting it less and less. But Reiner doesn’t seem to mind, as the sound of the Pet Shop Boys playing off laptop speakers keeps their little corner of the world at ease. 

Reiner moves his rook across the board, placing it in the ideal spot to take out Jean’s king. 

“Check.”

Jean’s eyes show a mild disinterest in the game, yet he puts his charcoal pencil in his mouth so he can move his bishop in front of his king. He then goes back to shading his sketch with soft, dusty lines.

Reiner rolls his eyes and moves one of his knights, further creating another point of attack to take down Jean’s king. 

“Double check.”

Jean gives his boyfriend a glare. “You can’t double check, dipshit.” 

“Yes, I can…” Reiner starts, taking a rather slow pull of the cigarette. “...and I will.” 

Jean rolls his eyes before ceding to the notion. He’s far past the point of arguing over chess, and thus takes Reiner’s rook and knocks down his king himself. He doesn’t put up a fight when Reiner scoffs and begins reorganizing the board for round four. It helps that he’s not entirely invested in the match, as the drawing of a flower in his book is far more important. 

Reiner passes the cigarette to Jean as he assembles the next game, Jean tipping some ash into the tray before taking a drag of his own. After blowing out a puff of smoke he places the stick on the tray, which resides on his windowsill. 

Then like clockwork, a knock is heard and the bedroom door creaks open. Being used to Jean’s mother by now, Reiner’s disposition barely changes as she pops her head into the room. He hadn’t even heard her enter the house. 

Arielle Kirschtein’s eyes are a familiar shade of hazel, the kind with the slightest bits of green, but unlike Jean her hair is a bit darker and her face looks a lot softer, a contrast to her son’s more angular features. Donning a hoodie over her usual nursing scrubs, it’s safe to assume that she just got home from a shift. 

“Jeanbo,” Arielle begins. “Did you-”

“Yeah, Ma,” Jean grumbles, not looking up from his drawing. He places his pencil between his teeth again to start smudging the medium with his finger. He manages to speak through the object in his mouth. “The chicken’s defrosting. Took it out when I got home.” 

Arielle smiles and nods. “That’s all I needed to hear, thank you.” 

Reiner looks at Arielle with a calm expression. Perhaps any other mother would clutch her pearls at the sight, one involving a strappingly handsome linebacker in her son’s bed with a lit cigarette resting on the windowsill. But she proves to be different, giving the guest in her home an honest smile. 

“Hi, Mrs. Kirschtein,” Reiner greets, clearly trying to sound polite. 

“Oh, Reiner, you know you can call me Arielle, right?” she jests, letting out a laugh. 

The linebacker chuckles. “Yeah, I’m still working on that.” 

Arielle nods, then eyes her son being artsy and deep. “And Jeanbo, remember to-”

“Yes, Ma!” Jean responds, implying that he’s heard this particular tone of voice countless times. He dramatically pulls the pencil from his mouth to begin more shading. “We’ll clean up when we’re done!” 

Arielle lets out another laugh, an infectious noise that cuts into the music playing from the laptop. “Okay, you boys behave.” 

Once she’s gone she closes the door. The chess board is now set up and Reiner reaches for the cigarette again, holding it between his fingers. One would expect a football player to be more health-conscious, yet something about the atmosphere of Jean’s room helps him stop caring, even if for a moment. Sometimes he wonders what the school would think to see the star football player and lacrosse captain enjoying a smoke together, some people would find it more scandalous than the whole “boyfriends” thing. 

“Why’s your mom so chill?” Reiner asks, making the first move in the game.

“Because when I was young I was an absolute fucking nightmare,” Jean explains, his signature snark seeping into his voice. 

He reaches over and moves his own pawn, then when Reiner passes the cigarette he accepts, taking a drag with the energy of a vintage film star who’s no longer a suitable leading lady at the tender age of twenty five. 

“Life tip,” Jean starts, keeping his eyes on his significant other. “Lower the bar when you’re a kid so the bare minimum impresses your mother in the future.”

Reiner chuckles, though this time it’s plagued with a sense of unease, a contrast to the lightheartedness he had shown not a minute earlier. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

…

…

…

Reiner is gone by the time dinner rolls around. As per usual, Jean rids his room of the smoky smell with a can of air freshener and the strategic opening of his window. Once the warmer weather comes around he and Reiner should be able to spend time in the backyard, whether they be training like the productive athletes they are or continuing to be teenage dipshits. But in the meantime, Jean’s bedroom will have to do. 

Once the space is mostly clean he heads downstairs, entering the kitchen to join his mother. 

Arielle is cooking when Jean walks by. He heads straight to the fridge to retrieve the milk, then like clockwork he takes a pull directly from the carton.

Arielle wordlessly grabs a glass from the cupboard and slides it across the counter, where Jean catches it. 

Jean rolls his eyes but heeds to her request, pouring himself a glass of milk like a respectable young man. For once. 

“Did Reiner leave?” Arielle asks, focusing on her cooking as her son chugs milk behind her. 

Jean nods as he puts down his glass. “Yeah, he has to pick up his cousin from karate. It’s a whole thing.” 

Arielle hums. “Good to know.” 

A few moments pass as she continues to cook and Jean pours himself another glass of milk — clearly, his sudden growth spurt isn’t going to fuel itself. When Arielle steps away from the stove she heads to the spice shelf. She doesn’t need to reach for the tarragon for long before Jean steps in, silently grabbing the small bottle that’s just out of his mother’s reach. At least he’s using his freakish frankenteen height for good. 

Arielle grins as she accepts the spices, then heads back to the stove. “I ran into Karina, by the way, at the post office.” 

Jean raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Arielle nods as she sprinkles dried herbs into a pan full of stir-fried chicken and vegetables. “Yeah, she’s…” she begins, then pauses to think her words through. “...she’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to.”

Jean’s only reaction is to shrug. “That’s Ms. Braun for ya.”

The sound of a sizzling pan fills the kitchen as Jean feels his smartphone vibrate. He fishes it out of his pocket as he leans against the counter, reading the latest text from his boyfriend. The bulk of the message consists of a smiling selfie depicting Reiner and his little cousin, the caption explaining that Gabi finally earned her green belt with a flurry of excited emojis. 

Jean grins and sends back a reply about how she’ll be the next linebacker by the time she’s in high school. 

The memory of Reiner’s smile remains in Jean’s mind even after putting his phone down. Soon he feels his mother tapping his shoulder, then when he looks over he sees her gesturing to a cutting board, a knife, and several stalks of unsliced scallions. She doesn’t need to say anything for him to walk over and get to work. 

The sound of chopping permeates the air, alongside the sizzle and Arielle’s quiet humming. As Jean meticulously slices the scallions as thin as his mother prefers them, a sudden thought comes to his mind, one influenced by the conversion between him and his mother, as well as the message from his boyfriend. 

“Uh… mom?” Jean starts. 

Arielle doesn’t look up from her pan. “Yes?”

“Ms. Braun doesn’t know about me and Reiner,” Jean decides to say. He keeps his words simple, not wanting to complicate things. Like his mother, he focuses on cooking, but lets the topic in mind retain its weight. “So could you maybe… not let her in on this?”

Arielle looks to Jean, then when he meets her gaze he notices the worried, questioning look on her face.

“Not tell her we’re together, I mean,” he’s quick to clarify. 

And to that Arielle doesn’t hesitate. She nods her head and immediately goes back to cooking, understanding the request but not making a fuss about it.

“Of course, of course.” 

[justloveprintables]

Mother’s Day Coloring Printables

Color these loving printables just in time to send them out for Mother’s Day. #coloring#coloringpages#coloringprintables#freedownload#free#justloveprintables