#for people like my mom

[i-dont-watch-movies-or-tv]

I feel like the age of having a "burner email" is gone. Out of curiosity,

[kcrra]

it makes me literally sick to think about alicent's relationship to her children. like. they are all she has. she loves them more than anything and hates them just as much. each of them is a shackle around her neck. they are her babies even though she was a baby herself, forced to be their mother. she'll pick up a knife for them. they are her living prison. everything she ever does is for them. their very existence makes her sick. she understands them and yet doesn't know them at all. they are her future. they stole her past.

she was 15 years old tethered to a rotting body of a man entirely against her will, watching each of her children invade her body as a result of martial rape. how were they ever supposed to have a normal relationship!!!!!!!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

going through my old journals as part of therapy homework and i'm reading a section written in the emotional wreckage of a full-on breakdown when i get hit with this line:

There is never a satisfying answer to ‘Why didn’t they love me?’

like wow babe. good fucking point

[athlast]

there's something about butches reclaiming protectiveness and chivalry from an imposed "caring, nurturing" character associated and often forced upon women. something about how while straight men often try to present as careless as possible, masculinity and care are not only not conflicting in the butch identity, but inherent to it. there's something there.

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[tesspool]

momma might

[andstuffsketches]

you guys liked casscass huh

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[chalkrub]

strange fellas

[jadecantcreate]

theyre holding hands……(and being shy about it)

hootsie and gricko doodles (mostly hootsie)

both requested by @nicohasperished !

[bunnieswithknives]

I feel bad for neglecting Hazel so much, I do have many thoughts about her.. and also a mermaid au that im probably not going to do anything with

[amanfromnewjersey]

I am going insane about these stoats

(my insta is @trisideseye and that's where I mostly post art. I'm purely posting here bc @quiddie is active on here and I need aabria to know, personally ,how fucked up I am about these stoats)

[doctorsiren]

I saw a cute headcanon that Mob becomes a firefighter when he’s older, and I love that so much, so I thought, “Hey, I already made Inukawa’s dad be a firefighter, so maybe talking to him is how Mob starts getting interested in that career path”, so I drew a little thingy

And then the last drawing is Ageswap AU Mob meeting (how I envision) normal-canon adult Mob at the same age as AS Mob because I thought it was funny

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Suspirium - Thom York

[foldingfittedsheets]

I'm sorry a TURKEY did WHAT to your mother's contact lens?? HOW??????

Right, yeah. So we had this turkey when I was growing up. And we raised this fucker from a tiny little baby, hand fed him, just doted on him. He was our first turkey ever. My mom called him Tom.

One day, she needed to work in a pasture so the flock of assorted fowl, (chickens, geese, and Tom) needed to be gently herded into an auxiliary pasture for the time being. The geese were biddable enough, the chickens ran ahead.

But Tom was not feeling it. He puffed up in irritation and my mom leaned down with her arms spread to usher Tom through the gate. Tom parked it. He turned to regard my mom with avian malice. And as she leaned down he shot out his horrible bald head and pecked her eye.

My mom screamed and fell backward, flailing enough that Tom fled through the gate anyway. When she recovered herself she came back inside, shaken and furious.

She checked out her eye and found it miraculously undamaged after the assault. It was like an hour later when she realized her contact lens was missing and the whole family speculated that it had saved her eye from Tom’s attack.

Tom did not live to see another sunrise.