#pinterest moms

[jonjaydami]

Does anyone else think that Bruce Wayne is secretly like a pinterest mom. Like all I can see is him in a brown cozy sweater, eating some hot soup Alfred made and literally just scrolling on pinterest.

Looking at things he thinks the boys would like. Like Tim he keeps getting those banners that say stuff like "I eat kids" with Bertrum on it and sending stuff to Clark while he's at work cause he wants to know what his boyfriend thinks about this new cute pair of socks he wants.

Clark thinks he has a problem. He does have a problem. But he will not admit it and will argue about it until he's 6ft under.

[suslucicek]

[sparklejumpropequeen1949]

me taking my after school nap 🩷

[iamgonnagetyouback]

mattheo riddle x single mom!reader where his smile entranced you and your 4 months old son

The day had been impossibly long. You were running on fumes, your back ached from lugging around Benjamin’s diaper bag, and your head throbbed with the distinct pulse of frustration and lack of sleep. Your sweet baby boy, Benjamin, was usually a ray of sunshine, but today had tested even his limits—and yours.

Now, on a crowded bus full of strangers, Benjamin was letting the world know just how upset he was. His cries echoed loudly, shrill and relentless, as he wriggled in your arms. The passengers around you shifted uncomfortably, a few not-so-subtle glares landing on you. One person sighed audibly, another muttered under their breath, and it all made you want to sink into the floor.

“Ben, sweetheart,” you whispered, bouncing him gently, your voice trembling with exhaustion. “Please, please calm down.”

But Ben wasn’t having it. His face was scrunched up in frustration, little fists waving, and tears streaming down his rosy cheeks. You couldn’t blame him, really. You felt like crying, too.

Your cheeks burned as a middle-aged woman shot you a disapproving look over her glasses. You tried to meet her gaze with an apologetic smile, but it faltered halfway. What did she expect you to do? Babies cried. You were doing your best.

Just a little longer, you told yourself. Your stop wasn’t far. You just had to make it a few more minutes.

And then, miraculously, the crying stopped.

You blinked, stunned. For a moment, you thought you’d imagined the sudden silence. But no—Ben was quiet, his wide eyes fixed on something—or rather, someone. He wasn’t just calm; he was positively entranced.

You followed his gaze, turning your head to the source of his fascination.

Sitting two seats away was a man—maybe your age, mid-twenties—with messy dark curls and a face that could stop traffic. His features were sharp yet somehow soft, like they couldn’t decide whether to be rugged or refined. But it was his smile that held your attention—it was the kind of smile that could disarm even the most guarded hearts.

“Hey, buddy,” the man said, his voice low and soothing, but with a playful lilt that seemed to enchant your son. “What’s got you so upset, huh?”

To your utter shock, Ben giggled. A real, honest-to-goodness giggle. The kind that made his tiny nose scrunch up and his dimples show. He even reached out toward the man, babbling happily, his earlier meltdown forgotten.

Your heart squeezed, relief mingling with something else—something warm and fluttery that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You looked at the man, really looked at him. His easy confidence, the soft curve of his lips as he continued entertaining Ben, the way he seemed completely unfazed by the chaos that had preceded this moment... You felt yourself relax for the first time all day.

“Looks like he’s a fan,” the man said, glancing at you with a teasing grin that made your cheeks flush.

You tried to muster a coherent response, but you were so drained you could only manage a sheepish laugh. “I guess he is. Thank you. I don’t know what kind of magic you just pulled, but I owe you.”

“No magic,” he said, shrugging with a casual air that somehow made him even more attractive. “I’ve just got a way with people, I guess. Especially the little ones.”

Ben gurgled in agreement, as if to second this claim, and the man chuckled—a low, rich sound that made your exhaustion momentarily melt away.

All too soon, your stop was announced. You stood, adjusting Ben in your arms and slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder. The man watched you for a moment, his gaze thoughtful, before he stood too. You felt a flicker of surprise—and maybe a little nervousness—when he followed you off the bus.

As the bus pulled away, you glanced at him, unsure whether to say something. Before you could decide, he broke the silence.

“Looks like we’re heading in the same direction,” he said, falling into step beside you. “I’m Mattheo, by the way.”

“Hi, Mattheo,” you replied softly, offering him a tired but genuine smile. “I’m—”

Your introduction was cut short by a sharp pang of realization. Ben’s penguin—his favorite plush toy—was missing. You gasped, frantically patting down the diaper bag and checking your pockets. “No, no, no…”

“What’s wrong?” Mattheo asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

“I left his toy on the bus,” you said, your voice trembling. “His penguin. He won’t sleep without it.”

Mattheo didn’t hesitate. “Stay here.”

“Wait, what are you—” But he was already sprinting after the bus, waving his arms like a madman. “Oh my god,” you muttered, watching in a mix of disbelief and awe as he flagged the driver down. The bus screeched to a halt, and Mattheo jumped aboard.

You bounced Ben nervously, watching the bus like a hawk. Benjamin, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed, cooing contentedly as if he knew Mattheo had everything under control.

Minutes later, Mattheo emerged from the bus, grinning triumphantly and holding the penguin aloft like a trophy. “Found it!”

You could’ve cried with relief. As he approached, you reached out to take the toy, and your fingers brushed his. The contact sent a tiny jolt through you—not unpleasant, but enough to make your breath catch.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice thick with gratitude. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Mattheo replied easily, his eyes softening as he looked at Ben, who squealed with delight and clutched the penguin tightly. “Couldn’t let my little buddy go without his best friend, could I?”

The way he said it—so genuine, so warm—made your heart skip a beat. Ben clearly adored him, and you couldn’t blame your son. You were starting to feel the same way.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, smiling at Mattheo. “Really.”

“Just doing my good deed for the day,” he teased, his grin turning a little sheepish. “Plus, I think I’m Ben’s new favorite person.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you joked, though your tone was light and full of affection.

Mattheo laughed, and it was a sound you could’ve happily listened to forever. As the three of you walked away together, the world felt just a little bit brighter. For the first time in what felt like ages, you weren’t just surviving—you were hopeful.

AUTHOR'S NOTE If anyone has any requests/ideas related to this, PLEASE don't hesitate to send. This is my current obsession 💙

[livelaughlaney]

for all the mama girls ꨄ

[missbubblesoda]

just the commander enjoying his summer I guess.

“Baby, can you pour me another one please?”

Buy me a ko-fi☕️?^^

[sarahsinferno]

from the mother

to the fragile, dreaming child.

motherhood is the quiet incantation woven through the fabric of existence, a tapestry stitched with patience and boundless love. the mystic bond is an unspoken vow, a constellation of warmth that defies the cold distance between the finite and the infinite.

in every touch, every glance, a spell is cast, simple and profound, binding the ephemeral to the eternal, where love breathes, a quiet, miraculous force, enveloping all that is small and precious in its embrace.

this is the magic of creation, the alchemy of life, transformed in the quiet act of giving, a boundless journey from the first fluttering heartbeat to the uncharted horizons of tomorrow’s dreams.

S.T. 2019

madonna + child photographed by maria theresa meloni

photograph by lisa sorgini

young mother nursing her child by mary cassatt(1906)

mother and child by leon bazile perrault(1894)

seymour joseph guy(1824-1910)

stephen pan(1963)

goodnight 2 by arthur john elsley

mother and child taken by nell dorr (1940)

photographs of tasha tudor and her children

[thatmoodboardd]

[nels-mama]

The life I aspire to have.

I just want a haunted homestead to raise my kid(s) on.

[kimmykloo]

Surfing 🌺

[fuxfluff]

been foolang around with different brushes and ended up with a decent sketch. tossing confetti hi guys first post (tap 4 quality)

[the-draculas-coven]

Morticia and Gomez Addams goals relationship. 🖤

[dinadi4z]

me with my cat

[fbfh]

just woke up from a baby dream and I'm a sobbing wreck :) anyway Logan Huntzberger doesn't expect much from his future besides monetary success, partying, and a lot lot lot of sex. he definitley doesn't expect to look up one day and realize he's sharing a home, a life with someone. not only that, but he's the one that instigated it. he told you in college he didn't like you being around other guys. he stopped caring about the girls that he would go between, because now he just seems to care about you. everything else falls to the sidelines. so he comes back to his big fancy house after an important business meeting on the golf course, and he sees you there. some old sitcom is marathoning on tv, and you're wrapped up in fluffy blankets, hair up and out of your face. you look so cozy, so comfortable. you keep adjusting the blankets, fussing with them as you hum softly. he walks closer, overcome with a feeling of love and swelling pride and... paternal instinct he's never felt. your son Henry, just a month or two old is bundled on your arms. you look up at Logan and smile so warmly he could cry just from the look on your face when you see him.

"hi," you breathe softly. Henry's settled down, so you don't want to rile him up too much, but he's not all the way asleep.

"hey ace," he breaths, sitting next to you. he wraps you in his arms and kisses you, meeting forgotten as you both admire you baby boy together. you rub his tummy gently, soothingly, and Logan smooths his hair. it's short and fuzzy, and a little prickly. it makes him laugh softly. Henry is wearing the white and blue onesie Honor got for him at the baby shower. he makes a mental note to take some pictures to send her of him wearing it. the soft fabric of his polo shirt and the smell of his cologne mixed with the distinct remnants of golf course air is so comforting. he watches you admire your son, trace the shape of his cute little nose, copy the faces he makes, babble little noises at him. he watches you smooth his hair and help him get comfortable in your arms, watches you place your finger in his hand so he can hold onto it with that surprisingly strong baby death grip. Henry wiggles around, getting comfortable in your arms, and you kiss his forehead again. once you're sure that he's settled, not too warm and not too cold, comfortable and lying safely, you can finally relax. you rest your head on Logan's shoulder, closing your eyes and finally letting yourself relax and rest a little. you take in a big deep breath of his masculine scent, somehow both spicy and refreshing, and sigh. you're content. you're more than content, he realizes. you're happy. Logan... made you happy. he found out what you wanted and built you a life you want, a life he wants. it hits him like a ton of bricks in one overwhelming, amazing moment, and he soaks in the feeling, watching the way your sleeping babys face and yours mirror each other.

[d3ad4ndg0ne]

breathe out, so i can breathe you in ~ ☆ ~

[here-comes-the-moose]

Stereotypical Suburban Mom Things That I Think Each Member of the Bad Batch Would Like

Hunter- Coupons/Groupon

Wrecker- Charcuterie boards

Tech- Pinterest

Crosshair- Wine

Echo- Throw blankets (I headcanon that he’s always cold)

Omega- Baked goods