this was a labor of love


so… for those of u who don’t know, i actually own a gilgamesh ita bag 💛💛💛 

“I don’t think I believe in love” the words were typed out, all she had to do was send. Would it make her a sinner? She’d been religious in her practice of waiting for love. 

I miss our friendship… those words mocked her should she send them. Instead, she screen grabbed it, and posted it to snapchat covering the name of the would be recipient and instead wrote “sounds good, see you then”.

She’d been thinking for a while about the last time she’d had sex. Pushing from days, to weeks, to months, to a year and change now. Not to say that the promise or offer of it wasn’t easily available. But, offers and promises seemed and were empty of what she wanted. 

A part of her ached for the vulnerability of it. Ached because she was in the prime of her life, her confidence, and love for herself demanded more. More. More. 

“Give me more. Help me more. Love me more. “  

She repeated them like a prayer to herself. She wanted intimacy, but not the half hearted kind where she had to shutter her expressions to the person trying to seduce and love her. 

Selfish only after laboring over why. 

So I am no longer in charge of Slime, which if you’re not familiar with that story I would get yourself a snack and give it a read because…. it’s long. It’s a long, long saga of slime. Instead, they’re having me do the Saturday morning kids classes. Or rather, they’re continuing to have me do the morning classes because… why train someone else to work with unattended small children when we’ve already broken this one’s spirit? 

And if you were internetting at the same time I was last night, you were probably aware that my girlfriend and I were making friendship bracelets. Which is very cute, but the reason we were doing that was because today I was supposed to teach little kids how to make them. I’d never made one successfully before and the directions were super unhelpful, so she was showing me how. (Well… it’s still pretty stompin’ cute in the context). 

So what I learned last night was that they really are a labor of love because if you tried to sell them at the fair cost of labor, no one would buy it at that price and you really gotta like that person to put in all that work and then give it away for free. 

“Oh, how shall I, a mere child, show the bonds of our unending friendship? I shall develop early stages of carpal tunnel syndrome as a symbol of our platonic love!”

This is a childhood experience that I never had. Ostensibly because I was the crafty person in the school and I had all of two (2) friends and … eh. Eh. It was the 90′s and my homework already resembled a mountain, so… eh. 


The bracelet that I was supposed to make was a chevron, but it looks more like argyle. Which is a look I dig but I’m mentally preparing dialogue for when someone is upset it doesn’t look like it should.  

There is no way in the squishiest layers of Hell that a four-year old is going to figure out how to make this. I’m 30 and I’m screwing up, so I figure I’ll have a couple of simpler options.  Basically, I would have them braid their colors together and put beads on it. Seems simple, right?

… ha… haha… oh. 

I’m sure that my plan would have potentially worked if there were different circumstances, but here we are… 

I had… no students. 


11:45, fifteen minutes before I was meant to close up. And then I had two. Then five. Then seven, nine, ten. As soon as I gave kids instructions to pick out their colors, more would come in. So half the room was bored and waiting for me to start and the other half was spending a lot of time trying to decide which color pink they want. One of them has her arm in a cast. Something wasn’t thought through. 

It is 11:55 when I finally get started. 

“Measure the length from your wrist to your elbow, and then double it.” 

Three adults failed this part. 

“Fold it in half and tie a knot at the top.”

One kid failed this part. 

“Do y’all know how to braid?” A mix of nods and shakes. “Okay, if you know how to braid, go ahead and braid your colors together.”

Three adults failed this part. I had to teach one kid how to braid because his mom refused to show him and eventually just took over herself. None of the parents were willing to help their kids learn, because they insisted that they already knew but clearly did not. I had to teach some of the adults. 

About halfway through this, a kid says “when are we going to make the slime?”

“Slime isn’t until one-o-clock.”

“We thought this was the slime thing.”

How do you get halfway through a friendship braid tutorial and realize that it isn’t slime? Did you think we were going to put it in the slime? Did you think that we were going to dip it in borax and it was going to suddenly be slime somehow? Did you miss the part in the beginning when I said ‘are you here to make friendship bracelets?’ Because I said that to literally everyone that came in through the doors. 

“Okay, now you’re going to put your beads on.” This part they knew how to do. “And when you’re done, you’re going to put a bead over one end and tie a knot around it, then do the same on the other side.”

All of the adults failed this part. 

Around this time, three girls abandoned the craft for their mom to finish in favor of watching whatever mindless children’s entertainment was being played in the baby carriage belonging to a completely different family. So they’ve just left the whole thing to their mother, who is frantically trying to finish because these kids have already learned the age-old art of ‘make someone else do it.’ 

We’re down to seven people and one of the youngest says ‘face painting.’

“The ad said that there’d be face painting.”

“Face painting?”


Suddenly they all want their faces painted. It is 12:25, the class ended 25 minutes ago, I’m supposed to clock out in five minutes, and seven kids are now under the impression that we’re doing face painting. 

“Face painting isn’t until next week. Next week.”

And now… tears. 

The one that brought it up knocked over a bucket of perler beads. The mom is now screaming at her, everyone is upset and I am now ten minutes late to clock out. Some of them are still asking about slime, so now they’re alternating between slime and face painting and the truth is that they want both, but I’m giving them neither and oh man… toddlers are not a pleasant sight when you tell them that they don’t have any choice in the matter. 

They finally figure that the best thing to do is leave, no one is happy, and I’m pretty sure the little one is grounded. 

All of this- all of this

All of this could have been avoided if you’d shown up fifteen minutes later, but sure- Zerg rushing the teacher seems like a way better plan, doesn’t it?

As I am cleaning up the string mess, a line is forming at the door.

“Is this the slime thing?”

“It hasn’t started yet.”

“I’ll wait.” Haha. I’ve played this game. You’ll wait, but you’ll complain to my manager that we made you wait for the event to open before letting you in. 

I finish cleaning up, I get out the door, and the same woman jumps to get into the classroom.

“It doesn’t start until one, ma’am.”

“It said noon!”

“One to three. The event is one til three.”

I know that the color ‘puce’ is hotly contested in terms of it’s actual definition, but her face turned the puciest color I have ever seen. Her son is tugging impatiently at her pant leg. She tells her tiny human that he has to wait longer. 

Haha, don’t care. I’m out, kiddos!

This post is brought to you by Children’s Tears. 

thattrollwiththehorns  asked:

whats your favorite video game that you think doesnt get enough attention? (if you have one like that)

theres actually this uhh like… short indie game my friend made that idk if it ever got much attention but a lot of my friends worked on it so it was like really a labor of love

anyway i cant keep this joke up i was talkin about undertale.

a very quick rundown of the very false twelve reasons nazis werent actually bad at all list

1. Hitler Broke Free from the International Banking Cartels

this section of the list includes the phrase ‘world jewry’ soooooooo yeah we can tell right off the bat how awful this is going to be. so im not going to describe nazi germanys ridiculous finance system. ive read the book three or four times. the finance system was bizarre and they were always just barely keeping it together 

2. Hitler Created a Thriving Economy with No Unemployment

i wouldnt call it thriving and everyone was doing evil work anyways so fuck them

3. Hitler Emphasized Respect for Women, Children and Strong Family Values

if true, he did this in the most shockingly horrific way the world has ever seen

4. National-Socialist Preservation of Environment and Animals

yeah, who gives a fuck 

5. Hitler Banned Experimentation on Animals (Vivisection)

well they vivisected people so i dont give a fuck

6. Hitler Funded Research into “Free Energy” Technologies

“hitler was interested in mystical pseudoscience that would help him escape from the clutches of a global jewish conspiracy against germany that didnt actually exist” 

7. German Workers Were Well-Treated

well wait until you hear how they treated the non german workers, especially once it was obvious the war was lost

8. Organized Industrial Production & Farming

whoever wrote this section is using a very loose interpretation of the word ‘organized’, industrial production ran on slave labor because all the men were off committing war crimes and farming was heavily supplemented with food looted from occupied europe. 

9. Hitler Eliminated Crime and Improved Health of Germans

nazi germany committed the most heinous crimes in the history of the universe.

10. No Citizen Will Starve or Freeze 

nazi germany starved and froze many people.

11. The National-Socialist Anti-Tobacco Mission

who gives a fuck

12. National-Socialists Created a Culture that Cherished Music

hitler loved boring shitty music and killed millions of people on purpose and wouldve killed alot more if he had the chance


Something a lot of people don’t know, aside from one XD Is that Antonio our snake boss, was once married..~

Yes he was married, to his sweetheart Selena~ :)

I haven’t mentioned much of the Mrs. Santiago just because I am still developing her, and I have been occupied with other things.

But I decided to post some sketches I have done of her and Antonio.

She was heavily inspired by Jessica Rabbit, Ariel the little mermaid, and of course Belle whom was created by the wonderful @themarshmellowsnowqueen ~! :3

But the reason why Antonio is no longer with his lovely wife, is because sadly she passed away. Selena had become pregnant, and both of them were overjoyed, but some complications had started to arise, putting Selena in failing health. So as she was going into labor, she had began to bleed out, causing her and the baby to both die.

It devastated Antonio beyond belief, to loose both his wife and child was a serious blow to him.

He spent the next 5 years drowning away his sorrows in work, moving passed the worse of his grief…until one faithful night, when he happened upon a strip club, and was mesmerized by a certain stripper by the name of Adonis..~ created by @animal-guardian :)

But yea! There’s some more info about Antonio! I hope to post more stuff with him in the near future ^^

hazoff abo mpreg that nobody asked for

hastily proofread by me, so im sure its not very clean or tidy, but i’ve been forcing myself to write and attempt productivity. this ‘verse takes up 90% of my thought process at any given time. here’s close to 1k of labor/delivery hospital fluff. 

Once Harry gets the epidural, things feel a lot calmer. It was making Jeff feel queasy, watching Harry claw at the bed rails, sweating and writhing around, while he sat and watched the contraction monitor spike as the muscles in Harry’s abdomen rippled and cramped. He felt bad for even feeling ill, aware that any discomfort he might be in is nowhere near how Harry is feeling.

Usually he can help, at least a little bit, when Harry isn’t feeling well. He’ll rub his back or make him soup. Bundle him up in blankets or wash his hair for him while he’s in the bath. But he’s powerless now. This is something that is completely out of either of their control. And it’s frightening. He could see it written across Harry’s features, before his face would twist up completely in pain, when the contraction was only building, the panic of seeing a huge wave approaching but not having the time to swim back to shore.

Now Jeff watches as the monitor spikes and Harry barely reacts, his eyes drooping like he’s ready for a nap, even though his contractions are starting to lengthen and have less time in between them. He reaches over and wraps his hand around one of Harry’s, now that he’s less afraid to touch him, like maybe he’s not made of glass after all.

Harry squeezes back, gently, like it’s all he can manage right now, with his clammy palms and flushed face, sweat cooling nears his temples.

“Hey, kid.” Jeff says quietly. “You doing all right?”

Harry offers him a wan smile. His lips are pale and chapped. Jeff will get him some lip balm and water in a little while. He wants to check in first. “Been better. But I’m okay.”

They’ve only been at the hospital for an hour, but it feels like it’s been a lifetime. There’s no way for them to be certain how long this is gonna take and it’s making him anxious, not having any concrete numbers to work with. He just has to make sure he doesn’t let any of his anxiety seep over to Harry.

“Do you wanna sleep for a bit, or do you want me to see if the doctor can come check on you again?”

Harry uses his free hand to rub at one of his eyes, clumsy, like a little kid. He looks very young all of a sudden, and it hits Jeff somewhere near his solar plexus. “Sleep, please. Just for a little while. Tell the doctor that he doesn’t even need to wake me up for the next exam. I’m giving blanket permission for any poking and prodding down there. I can at least hold onto the small bit of dignity I have left if I’m asleep.”

Jeff lets out a very undignified snort. He blames it on the lack of sleep that accompanies twelve hours of labor. And that’s just so far. “I’ll let him know. Do you need or want anything before your nap?”

Harry gets that little tilt of his mouth. The one that means he’s about to say something that Jeff is likely to disagree with. “I really want you to lay with me.” Before Jeff can interrupt with a list of reasons why the doctor and nurses have advised against him being on the hospital bed with Harry, he continues. “I know, I know. Too many tubes and doo-dads.” Harry sighs, tiredness creeping back into his tone. “Just wish you could be next to me. Proper, like.”

“I’ll file a complaint with the hospital. Tell them their nurses are mean and carry on about disrupting catheters and all sorts of other junk. Maybe I’ll even give them a bad review on Yelp.”

Harry gasps theatrically, eyes widening, “Oh, Jeffrey. You wouldn’t.”

Humming solemnly, Jeff assures, “Oh, but I would. I will.”

Harry’s smiling softly with lingering amusement, but quietly requests, “Can you bring your chair closer? If you won’t actually break the rules and get up here with me.”

Jeff does as asked, getting his uncomfortable hospital chair as close to Harry’s bed as possible. This way he can reach as much of Harry as he wants; he can place a hand on the swell of his big belly and feel it move and tremble, trace the weary lines of his face, rest his palm over the steady thump of his beating heart. Harry’s warm to the touch and rosy-cheeked with dewy skin, despite being in considerably less pain.

Not one part of this whole thing has been like what the books, pregnancy magazines, forums tell you. This romanticized notion of pregnancy, for both the carrier and the partner. Beauty this and beauty that. All sorts of nonsense. Harry called “the glow” a “giant pile of bullshit” after four months in. It’s been a blur of emotional rollercoasters, swelling, cramps, stretch marks, vomit, sweat, constipation, and a whole slew of other things that they’ve both tried to block out of their memory.

But right now – under some very unflattering fluorescent lighting, with his hair going in eighteen different directions, skin oily with spots on his forehead, bags under his tired eyes – Harry is the most beautiful Jeff has ever seen him.

He’s holding one of Jeff’s hands in both of his, tucked up close to his chest, and he’s falling fast. Eyelids fluttering and threatening to close completely. Breaths evening out and slowing down. He needs the rest. He’s dilating “very slowly”, according to the doctor. So they were told to prepare for the long haul.

Jeff’s arm is gonna go numb with the way it’s stretched out across Harry, but he wouldn’t move it for the world right now.

I don’t really follow the Star Wars comics...

Because, TBH, for me no other Star Wars comic series ever managed to equal both the artistry and the depth of the Star Wars: Kanan maxi-series. I would pick up the first few volumes, but usually dropped out several volumes later.

The Kanan series was a labor of love, and it shows.

The survivor movement will include men or it will not include me.

It was when I lived as a man that my partner hit and belittled me. It was when I lived as a man that I found support from my school’s victim advocate. It was when I lived as a man that a feminist therapist saw me and held space for me with love and care.

The feminism that I know and love and want to be a part of cares deeply about all survivors and creates systems that support all survivors.

I will not exclude male victims from my activism around sexual assault and intimate partner violence. Are you a male survivor who is also a sexist jerk looking to mooch of of the labor of women? I don’t fucking care, you’re a human being, what was done to you was wrong and we are going to take care of you as well as we know how. You deserve that as a human being, regardless of what you have or have not done. We do not audit women’s history of activism; I will not audit yours.

This is the first time you have discussed sexual harassment or sexual violence. I welcome you, come, speak and be heard and be seen. And stay because we have so much work to be do.


I am honestly so impressed with Mystic Messenger after finishing the game, and I loved that one end scene from Secret 02 so I took it, embellished it, and drew it out <3 


Hi. I’m here to ask all of you wonderful people to help. My niece Iga is 5 years old. She is full of life, wonderful kid. And I love her so so much.
She has small problem with her eye. Or at least we thought it’s small.

My sister had very difficult and long (14 hours) labor. Because of the high pressure inside, Iga was born with big red spot on her horehead (that almost completely fade with time but she is still wearing bangs) and one smaller and a little closed eye. The doctor said that it will change with time.

Unfortunately she started having problems with the sight in that eye and now she needs surgery. But for free surgery she would have to wait more than a year and that’s too much of a risk. If we not hurry up she will stop seeing on one eye.

We need 500$ for the surgery. And we only have 10 days to raise it. Please if you can spare something, this is her paypal email:

Now we raised those 500$ but we need more. My sister talked with the doctor today and Iga will had to take antibiotics right after the surgery for two weeks and some other meds that are expensive and also every appointment with the doctor costs 90zł because he is private doctor. And I’m sorry for asking you guys again. But we have no money left. I didn’t said it before but the cost of surgery is 6,000zł but we raised most of that by myself. Those 500zł that is about 1600-1800zł was the rest of it that we couldn’t find anywhere.

So please help if you can!

You can use an currency you want!

And this is Iga






anonymous asked:

prompt: magnus calling alec 'pretty boy' again

it was mid-afternoon, somewhere far enough past lunch that sleepiness was starting to settle in. alec’s limbs felt heavy as he sat on the couch and he knew he had been paying attention to reading his book at some point, but at some point the even lines of text had gone blurry and unfocused. the maple syrup light wasn’t helping, neither was the slow tick of the clock, but worse of all was the way magnus was lit up by the sun.

his left side was all alight, the sun cutting up his sharp jaw and his cheekbone, burning up the tips of his spiked up hair. he had been working on a potion for the past hour, his face set in tense concentration, every single movement he made so particular. he measured ingredients with studied focus, his brows furrowed and amidst it all the sunlight kept glinting on his rings and the chain hanging from his fitted waistcoat.

alec found himself mesmerized, lips pursed and his gaze a little out of focus as magnus tapped on vials and sifted through ingredients. he was so handsome like this, the planes of his face set in determination, but it really wasn’t just how he looked. it was his focus, a palpable thing settled next to him in the room. it was his knowledge, the fact that he did all of this freehand and knew exactly what he was doing. it left alec wondering so many things. but he knew better than to interrupt magnus when he was working. which was why he didn’t say anything when he closed his book and pushed himself up off of the couch, starting towards the kitchen.

he was idly adjusting his shirt when magnus’s voice echoed in the stillness of the loft and brought him to a halt near one of the brick pillars.

“where are you going, pretty boy?” magnus’s voice was deep and warm, like it always was, but that wasn’t what made alec break into a big smile, his cheeks warming. it was those two words, catching him off guard as they always did.

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