#Happy mothers day I guess

[vlasdygoth]

diamond dog eva? diamond dog eva.

[bagels-and-coffees]

Happy mother's day to the mothers in Palestine just trying to feed their kids. To Sudanese women being brave in the face of war. To the mothers in Congo who are forced into slavery. To kashmiri and manipuri mothers, fearing their children might end up dead. To Yemenis and Syrians, to Armenian mothers looking genocide in the face. No one deserves to be the victim of fascist and imperial greed.

[shooting-stars-are-cosmic-tears]

To the one girl I can't forgive,

I am six years old

and I’m walking an empty baby stroller

and I’m having so much fun

that I’ve forgotten time exists.

I’ve made you worry.

So you hit me.

I’ve made you cry.

I am sorry.

It’s not enough.

I am nine years old

and your mom has died.

we are looking at her for the last time.

you look towards me, teary-eyed

and say, “are you really not going to cry?”

and you smile, sad, disappointed

and I am sorry

and It’s not enough.

I am eleven years old.

I’m the class fool, and

I have no actual friends, and

school is hard, and

everything is so heavy, and

I don’t feel like being alive anymore.

So you hit me.

I’ve made you cry again.

I’m sorry.

It’s not enough,

not enough to be sorry for making you cry;

I must never again talk to you like this

like I want to die.

I am thirteen years old

and I’m getting worse

at pretending I don’t want to die.

my brain is mouldy with too much sleep, and

my grades are slipping, and

I ‘don’t talk to you like I did before’

like I did when I didn’t want to die.

I get scolded at the parent-teacher meeting,

and I embarrass you.

and I am sorry.

It’s not enough.

It’s not enough to feel bad for both you and myself.

I must stop being so selfish, and I

must stop being so lazy, and I

must get good grades again, and I

must never embarrass you like that again, and I

must stop pretending like I have it worse than you do.

I can never have it worse than you do.

I’ve made you cry.

I don’t have it in me to be sorry anymore.

I am sixteen years old

and I’m getting better.

I have good friends now,

and they drag me out of the house,

and we go to the woods and talk about how

we all want to kill ourselves,

and we’re getting better.

but I haven’t done the dishes,

and dad is drunk for the twelfth night in a row,

and you feel like screaming,

but I won't hear any of it.

I’ve made you cry.

i’m still not whole enough to feel sorry for someone else

I am nineteen years old.

we’re having easter dinner,

and you finally acknowledge what I had as depression.

though you still think it was selfish of me,

to be depressed when you gave me such a good life.

but i’ve already moved to the big city,

and dad’s still drunk, but away with work,

and you’re so hopelessly alone

that you let yourself forgive me

for being so selfish and getting sick in the head.

you tell me you always knew it was depression

since you know me so well.

you tell me how happy it makes you

to know I’m back to being normal again.

it makes my blood boil, but I say nothing of it,

i’ve learned that with you it’s better

to pretend that I’m readable,

to pretend that you’re right,

so you have nothing to cry about,

and nothing to hit me over,

and I have nothing to say sorry for.

I am twenty-one years old,

and I’m telling you a story

about how i sleep too much again,

so much and so deep,

that I keep pressing the snooze button in my sleep

and I have my roommate wake me up sometimes.

and you look at me for one second

then back to the TV and say,

“You’re such a bitch, annoying your roommate like that on purpose”

and I’m thirteen again,

feeling sorry that my pain made you cry.

Only I’m grown now, so I try again

to tell you a story

and you snap back at me,

can’t I see you’re watching the news?!

I really am such a bitch!

how can I expect you to do two things at once?!

so I stop talking,

and you stop watching the tv,

and I want to go to my room,

and as I leave your eyes beg me to stay

because it’s the last hour of your birthday,

and dad still hasn’t called yet.

but I don’t want to be thirteen again,

and he’s made you cry

I mean, I’m making you cry,

and even if you refuse to see it,

I’m still too broken to feel sorry for you.

But sorry will never be good enough for you

and neither will I.

[gleafer]

Happy Mother’s Day, you muthas! From human spawn to four-legged minions, enjoy this day of celebration for being the caretakers this world survives on!

Enjoy a page from my looney comic on Patreon where Jimbriel passively brings new life into the world, traumatizing the ineffables (it makes sense, I swear.)

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Wear headphones :]

Transcript:

*grunting*

I'm- I'm coming just- Tch

I'm almost there... Agh~

Audio Source

ok fine here's the context

Transcript:

Yay! I'm finally at the top of these stairs! *laughs*

[buckymilf]

meridith quill was important to starlord, so she was showed in gotg

starks parents were important to iron man, so they appeared in the mcu

thor's parents were essential to thor's character, so they appeared in his trilogy

WHY THE FUCK we never got to see steve rogers' mom? the most special woman in his life and his true moral compass? WHY??

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

ok this is a controversial opinion but like….. to me, henry spencer was actually not a shit father….. hear me out.

i understand that there’s a lot of subtleties that go into emotionally abusive parents, and i’m not trying to dismiss that, but honestly i just don’t see all the negativity that gets associated with him so often. also, between henry and madeleine, one parent actually seemed to be there when shawn was growing up, and it wasn’t his mother.

let’s look at shawn’s childhood. in all the flashbacks, henry was the one who volunteered at shawn’s school, who took him to movies and was around for all of his new hobbies and interests. he was the one making sure shawn did his homework and hung out with his friends and learned life lessons. granted, some of his teaching methods were not appropriate for a kid shawn’s age, so yes i can see where the criticisms come in and i agree with them. but he was so much more than his mistakes, he was the parent who cared.

when shawn grows up, yes there’s animosity between him and his father but to be quite honest, i’ve never met one person who doesn’t have unresolved daddy issues so that in itself doesn’t condemn henry in my mind. we see how much henry saved from shawn’s childhood and how much he remembers, and to me he actually does quite a bit to help shawn when he needs it. this is particularly telling in comparison to madeleine, who isn’t there to begin with and eventually we find out she really did leave her kid behind, and to me that does a lot more damage than any one thing henry did.

shawn and henry have issues, i won’t argue with that. but i really don’t think henry gets enough credit for the good he did and the way he tried when shawn got older. above all else, he was there and he was there for shawn, and that’s important. god knows it’s not everything, but it’s something.

[revlark]

Don’t normally post things here but I need people to know that my brother has exposed our mom to Dropout’s Game Changer.

She liked it, but also thinks that Sam is “strange” and Brennan is “a disturbed man”.

[kr-yoongi]

Happiest Colin Morgan character !!

[karmaliciouslife]

Warning: slight Iron Flame spoiler(?)

It took everything in my not to burst out crying at this because I was outside. She has her flaws, but this was the core of her. Her love for her children.

[jopzer]

happy mother's day to the realest to ever do it 🙏🏼

[todayisafridaynight]

happy mothers day to the best mom ever

bonus:

[sammjammin]

Pk pride

[space-bowl]

A little sneakpeek of a doodle I'm working on. You get no context...yet.

[isilwhore]

Nerdanel the Wise

[sapphicstacks]

Ava hasn’t had an orgasm in a month. Which, in the grand scheme of things, is probably not that big of a deal, but it’s getting pretty fucking annoying. Since that day with Beatrice in the Tributary bathroom, Ava hasn’t been able to make herself come.

And not from lack of trying.

Okay, fine, there were two weeks in there where Ava was in so much pain that she had absolutely no interest in masturbation, but now? It’s becoming a bit of a problem.

She’s tried everything. Her hand, her vibrator, a dildo. She even went out and bought a new vibrator just to see if a different shape or speed would finally get her over the edge. She’s tried any and every position she could possibly masturbate in— twice. She’s watched porn, she’s read smut, and she’s fantasized about things that she’s never once even considered as something she would be interested in.

The most annoying part of it is that it genuinely feels good. It’s not like she isn’t getting aroused. Ava knows how to make herself feel good, and it’s working. The problem is that she can’t bring herself over the edge. Her orgasm is always perpetually out of reach.

Her vibrator dies, or her hand cramps, or she gets overstimulated before she can get anywhere near the finish. And it's not like Ava has a particularly hard time getting herself to come. She’s faster with someone else (really fast with Beatrice) and consistent on her own.

Except for this past month. It’s becoming a genuine problem. Ava has been actively edging herself multiple times a day, so even when she’s not masturbating, she’s thinking about it. She’s turned on— constantly. Which is not ideal most days, but it’s really fucking bad today.

Because today is Beatrice’s first day back at the station.

Chapter 8 Cont. on AO3