i need my check

a little notice for ask

Hey! I checked my ask box, and I think I need to tell something. ummm I don’t know how to say this properly but….

I'm happy to receive asks, I'm very excited to think about how to answer about those questions, but my asks are for my farmer Ethan, or Sebastian in my farm or me. I can't draw much of another people’s farmer/oc.

I’m pretty sure Ethan’s happy to meet other farmers, can get along them well mostly, but I don’t think he can hang out with them very often (because well, they live in the parallel world? hhh) or I can make long stories for my farmer with another farmers. I have limited time and energy and I want to focus on ethan & sebby in this tumblr, and in asks too.

So, long story short, I can’t answer some questions related to other farmers, or another people’s OC. Please don’t send me asks about them.

I’m always much appreciate how there’re so many kind people in tumblr, and much excited about there’re some people liking my art. So I rly feel bad about saying this… but I think I have to. I’m sorry.

Thanks!

[image description: a stock photo on a white background of two peas-in-a-pod squishies. Both squishies feature a row of three peas, each with a kawaii-style smiley face in brown, nestled into a green pod. The pod on the viewer’s left-hand-size features peas coloured light pink, bright yellow and dark pink; the pod on the viewer’s right features peas coloured light pink, lemon yellow and light blue.]

Peas in a Pod Squishy - eBay, $2.18 USD.

Dimensions: 8 cm long.

Item has free worldwide standard shipping.

This is one of the many, many stim toys eBay tries to sell me when I log into my account to check my transactions. I do not need them, but I think they’re absolutely adorable!

These are described as slow rising.

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The way people in the North talk about you, you’re the greatest swordsman who ever walked.

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Proud dads

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….People are either charming or tedious.

Wishing Josie (@josay) a very happy birthday!! (21.05)

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The first photo is from Mark’s twitter- How cute is he?! 

The second photo is from Mark’s insta and is of Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston and Taika Waititi sleeping, all snuggled up together at SDCC 2017.

Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k


Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

Keep reading

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Sometimes you just have to scribble some boys