#auntie made a thing

[doneknitting]

kids remember: if you can't clone your dinosaurs, yarn made is fine 🧶😊

[mikimeiko]

Our Flag Means Death Season 2 - one gif per episode (with the first gif from their first scene and the last gif from their last scene) | Auntie

[petrichorium]

pluvi begging you to expand on gojo not wanting what happened to his mother to happen to you 🙏

warnings: it’s all a dream so nothing is real aside from the flashback stuff but pregnancy as horror, (sewing) needles, implied gore/eye trauma, implied child harm, gojo is messed up yo!!! and its bc of his mama!!!

he dreams about her.

it’s an odd thing, really. gojo isn’t much of a dreamer—not much of a sleeper, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to give in when you drag him to bed and curl up in his arms. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the steady thump of your heart, the sound of your breath; it soothes him into slumber.

and he dreams about her. she was always young. he’s older now than she ever got to be. frail, thin; borderline skeletal, robes hanging from her body like webbing. she sits in a chair facing a window, swathed in moonlight, the silver of her embroidery needle glinting with each stab. her face is veiled. her stomach is swollen with child.

she doesn’t turn to him, but she beckons without noise. his feet take him easily to her, and he kneels at her side as she sets aside the embroidery hoop to let him place his head on her knees.

her hand is cold as it threads through his hair. it’s gentle, at first. then harsher a moment later. she grips firm, tugs him up by those electric white threads, stares down at him through all that elaborate lace.

he imagines she’s weeping beneath it. his mother never wept before him, but she was pretty in the aftermath, eyes puffy and pink and shining. they were a cold kind of loving when they regarded him. she must have been beautiful once, elegant and lithe and willowy, cruel like the heartless sea and sharp like a brilliant diamond, but whatever was there is long gone. he thinks all sons must empty their mothers, bleed them dry from within, because his was always a shell.

she trails her hand down the side of his face, and he turns into the palm and closes his eyes, and she is silent as she sets down her embroidery to lift her veil. she is silent and hollow and eidolic as her fingers brush down his jaw and tilt his head up to look at her.

but it’s your face that he sees when he opens his eyes.

it’s your hand against his cheek, your eyes pink and puffy and pretty, your stomach bulging by his own doing. it’s your fingers that pluck up the needle, still attached to a thread of brilliant cerulean, and raise it to his eye.

his mother never was able to pierce him with that needle. she stopped herself, each and every time, dropping it and tugging him close in shame. she never doted, never was kind, but she never did manage to harm him.

you do. he lets you. it’s only fair. whatever thing is in your stomach can’t be human—whether god or demon what does it matter, at the end of the day—and didn’t he put it in you himself? if his mother never got the satisfaction of spilling his blood, shouldn’t you?

but he wakes just as the tip pierces his iris, and you hold him in your lap, eyes wide with concern and not puffy from weeping, and you hold no child within you. your hands thread through his hair and they’re warm, your lips plush when you bend to press a kiss to his brow.

he turns inward to press his face into your (empty, blissfully vacant) abdomen. the wetness he leaves there, falling from his so very coveted eyes, is colorless.

he thinks it ought to be brilliant crimson.

[thistransient]

Bicycling to see the rice fields

[everysongineverykey]

i love how unfatherly crowley and aziraphale both are when it comes down to it. sure aziraphale is more than willing to give the young people in his life help and advice and be their friend but he and crowley spent six years (eleven in the book) practically raising a kid (you just know his parents weren't around that often) and by the end they didn't even like him. crowley even suggested they just fucking kill him. he turned three kids into lizards for annoying him right after he destroyed their house. like it was that or kill them obviously but he did NOT hesitate with the newts. that's so funny to me. they're just inherently disinclined to parenthood. we need more characters like them actually

[snipsnipsnippy]

Everyday, I think too hard about the Luke and Leia’s exchange where she remembers her birth mother.

“Leia, do you remember your mother? Your real mother?”

“Just a little bit. She died when I was very young.”

“What do you remember?”

“Just images, really. Feelings.”

“She was very beautiful, kind...but sad.”

And how canon just…. forgot about it.

I propose mom Sabè.

Hear me out, Leia is born, Bail takes new baby home, Breha cuddles her new daughter, but he had said something to Obi-Wan about forging the adoption papers. And like, I’m not gonna speak on Alderaanian adoption procedures because I don’t know. We don’t know, okay. But generally, adoption takes time. Hella time. And we get this impression from Alderaanian culture or maybe just Breha that, despite being the literal queen, she doesn’t like to put the royal family ahead of the rest of the citizens. Like Leia goes to special royal events and training and whatnot, but she also has normal ass school and meets normal ass people. So sure, they can forge adoption papers because this is a very special circumstance, but it needs to look as normal as possible. They can’t just pull a baby out of nowhere and show up with a newborn they surprise adopted.

So? They need a stand-in mom who will be sympathetic to their case, not ask questions and not make a deal of it. Preferably someone who would do literally anything for Padmè. Had they mentioned it to her, she would have been there, and she’s been acting and keeping secret strategies her whole life. Sabè loved this woman with her whole heart. Hated Anakin, ofc, but she would have loved that little girl who looked just like her best friend.

And of course, she would be sad. Her other half is gone. All that’s left is her daughter who looks so much like her. And she knows she only gets to know this baby for a limited time. Maybe it was weeks, or months, or even years. We do know Leia was with the Organas by the time she was 2-3.

So that’s the mom I think Leia remembered. And maybe she did feel glimpses of Padmè and the two became one in her mind. They did used to swap places so that no one could tell them apart. So maybe all of her memory of her mom was just a vision.

But I like to think her closest Auntè got to know her and love her even for a little bit.

[ask-hws-singapore]

number 2 and 8?

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word 'friend?

Countries are...hard to truly be friends with. Even the ones you consider your friends. But it's easy to make friends with the aunties and uncles at the coffee shop.

8. How loose is their use of the phrase 'I love you'?

In SEA, we don't say 'I love you'. We cut fruits. Even if that person is annoying most of the time.

Edit : Pretend it's not Ramadan rn in that comic 8'D

[[OOC : Don't hesitate to send me more from the ask game list!! I linked it for a reason]]

[dirtydoctorwho]

A day at the fair with the Starks

Steggy Week Day 4: Friends and Family Steggy Bingo: All the balloons Peggy Carter Bingo: Tunnel of Love

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I feel like the post I just reblogged pointing out the all-or-nothing in how many people interact with their deconstruction of systems of oppression is resonating for me right now with so many different moments in my life where someone decides that because some part of myself has access to some of the levers of control/influence/etc that come with the relationship to power, and decides what that must mean about all the other parts of me that might be explicitly refused access to those same levers.

It has happened in so many spaces/aspects of my life, and it can be so hard to feel safe and seen and trusting of others when that's my chronic relationship to being perceived - half truths and obfuscation.

It doesn't really change regardless of who's doing the assuming either. Like, where they land in relation to systems of power may influence which direction they lean in their assumptions about me, but even that is often inconsistent. Both sides of the equation (those who share my marginalizations and those who exist in spaces of closer proximity to power) will still do it nonetheless.

When I was doing my liminal social identities work in undergrad, this was actually a big part of the conceptualization we explored of traumtic alienation of self as individual from self as collective, and what it can do to people to exist in this liminal relationship with your environment and the people in it. As I'm starting to gather my thoughts about my stress modeling, this conceptualization is bubbling back to the surface. I'm finding myself meandering through it on both a path specifically my own, and in an effort to better understand what other paths may be available to people during their version of the process/experience.

Selfhood is so fragile, and so in need of balance between self-construction and co-construction for us humans, and that gives us so many beautiful, even spiritual, experiences of meaning making and generativity of self. It also createa many pivot points where we may find room in our path for vulnerability or blurring of self. As much as these pivot points can be distressing, I think they also sometimes become our foundations of change/personal evolution, when we find that through the distress of existing in shift, something meaningful is occurring or observable in our experience of self-in-transition.

I think something I've valued especially about my own relationship with self is its transience. It doesn't always end up somewhere I would be happy to sustain, but it always allows me a degree of comfort in complexity that I think has made my body-mind a safer place for me overall.

[theragamuffininitiative]

I watched the doctor donna specials and I have emotions. Also I kinda love fifteen. Also none of those plots made sense but they were still good lol.

I just love the Doctor and his bestie Donna so so much. 😭 she got a happy ending after all 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and so did he alkdlrfkleldd 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ok I'm normal I'm fine.

[doneknitting]

oh look, it already 5 o'cluck 🤭🐔❄️

[hauntedfalcon]

Auntie Bee going down with her first scar, thinking about how she had told Jean to "be mentally prepared if he's too far gone," was not only Beatrix believing Jean was the only other one who could end Sean, and it was not only Marisha setting Zehra up for a We Saw This Coming that she would have had to use while Beatrix was unconscious and unable to help, but it was also Beatrix having believed the whole time that it was really Sean hunting them, even though Marisha didn't have confirmation until Spenser said the word blood. :)

[icterid-rubus]

I got a beautiful picture of my friend’s baby laying next to a stuffed bunny my dad bought, and Baby is smaller than the toy, cuddled under its ear. I’m fighting every urge and desire to make it my phones background.

[thirtyskeletons]

damn. ofmd season 2 kind of completely sucked compared to season 1

[the-last-teabender]

Talking about and destigmatizing mental illness is not the same thing as giving away sensitive information about your mental health that other people could use against you, and anyone who tries to convince you otherwise is sus af. If anything, advocating for mental health and self-care goes hand-in-hand with advocating for privacy on those exact same matters.

If someone is offended by you not listing off all your triggers and sensitive psychological information in a publicly accessible forum, or even just to them specifically when you prefer not to, ask yourself why.

[cosmicrhetoric]

walking into an unfamiliar mittai shop is literally like being dropped in a country where you don't speak the language except the irony is i DO speak the language