#hismom

[silvercrane14]

I dont know why the kagepro light novels went so hard on Kano's backstory but they really didnt have to do that. no one else got that treatment

#sorry thinking abt #how he kinew hismom wouldnt have said she loved him and so he didnt use her mouth to say it event though that was what he reallyneeded #eben though he really missed her #also thinking abt. him looking in the reflection of the knife and seeing his mothers face #genuinely why would they do that to me #crane screams #kagepro #kagerou project #kagepro spoilers #<i guess

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

Bojacks childstood would have made for a very depressing show more than the adult show of him .

#bojack horseman #hate hismom

[notdrifting]

bumi brainrot ? bumi brainrot.

no thoughts, head full of bumi in water tribe clothes

!!!!! air nomad clothes too !!!!!  

it’s the pink earmuffs that does it for me lmao fr hes so adorable

but also ???

he’s such a himbo too, hand on his hip and shit -  i cant w/ him

#tis time again #please bear with me while i try and get all the bumi brainrot out of my system #BUMI 「study」 #BUMI 「visage」 #BUMI 「aesthetic」 #him wearing a blue scarf under his uf clothes ;-; the same colour of the water tribe clothes he wears when he visits hismom??? #i cry #he's a fashionista #the way he wears his heart on his sleeve and that it is SO EASY to read him i- *sobs*

[ilargeicontradictmiself]

charlie "this is everything youve ever wanted" with hismom and his sisters and mac and his mom and mac and his mom and charlie and donald and deeand dennis with frank and all of them and charlie and frank and die and dennis and mac and mac and dennis and charlie and WEARESOFUCKINGBACKBETTERTHANFUCKINGEVERBITCHES

#IASIP #iasip s16 #its always sunny in philadelphia

[regalityandcoffee]

You know that scene at the beginning of Baby Biy where Jody is in hismoms womb as an adult?

Yeah.

I was never meant to be an adult. I wish my mom had fucking sense and got a abortion.

#regality rambles

[islandgirlgetsfitblog]

Start to love on yourself hard & loud that it's impossible to hear anyone hating 🙅🏾‍♀️ on you. #selflove #selcare #hismom #hermom #singlemom For online Coaching click link below⤵️ https://linktr.ee/threepillar https://www.instagram.com/p/CM-EC79h_ke/?igshid=1564vzvrmpw3c

#selflove #selcare #hismom #hermom #singlemom

[seasonsofmothering]

A man loves his sweetheart the most, his wife the best, but his mom the longest. #aman #sweetheart #mostwonderfultimeoftheyear #hismom #momblogger 💋😬❤️ (at Scenic Oaks, Texas) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4G2sW2nAsk/?igshid=ye0ijpvxgdo6

#aman #sweetheart #mostwonderfultimeoftheyear #hismom #momblogger

[solovelyf-blog]

There's always an opportunity available! #blessings #crown #goddess #hispromise #comeupslowdown #itshappingnow #godsgift #special_shots #gotem #hisprincess #imadeit #itshappening #ctarrkabbalah #hismom #ilovebeingtheirmom #nospecialoccasion #my5wonderfulkids #mylife https://www.instagram.com/p/B2rhEsAl5v9/?igshid=1n5nb6oydkeuz

#blessings #crown #goddess #hispromise #comeupslowdown #itshappingnow #godsgift #special_shots #gotem #hisprincess #imadeit #itshappening #ctarrkabbalah #hismom #ilovebeingtheirmom #nospecialoccasion #my5wonderfulkids #mylife

[soulfuleyez]

#WednesdayWisdom from my Son 6 years ago, wise beyond his years. Purpose of #SoulfulEyez was to create a platform for his thoughts, Mines and Others to be expressed and my mind is blown every time. #tb #HisMom #MyBlessing https://www.instagram.com/p/BxMyRw4DzBhQ1ypHgIaL3IfuqPm84vCR5MVZac0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ox4q2fphhl7r

#wednesdaywisdom #soulfuleyez #tb #hismom #myblessing

[aprilshari]

The best element to be in , is in my own element and a sweat suit 😛. #sweatpantsandcurves #passionbattlecurves #love ❤ #blackandgold #darkskinbeauty #darkskinswag #blackpearl #sneakers #shoedazzle #ponytailweave #plusmodel #lucivory #hismom @zechariahanthony #AprilShari https://www.instagram.com/p/BwLgCzdA90s/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=142cbefz7npfi

#sweatpantsandcurves #passionbattlecurves #love #blackandgold #darkskinbeauty #darkskinswag #blackpearl #sneakers #shoedazzle #ponytailweave #plusmodel #lucivory #hismom #aprilshari

[librarygf]

guys. today is good. i made spaghetti carbonara and had a beer with it (which i’ve literally never done on my own before. what step of quarantine-missing-chilling-with-your-friends is that?). now i’m picking out random shameless episodes to watch bc i’m sleepy and wanna chill

#what’s a good pre s5 one to watch out of context? #i started with 2x09 for the family drama and for early seasons ian being sad about hismom #yes these are my interests apparently asdfghj #i wanna keep watching things to get in my family feels #also how are y'all doing? #i hope good

[minsansobranglabo]

My Boyfriend

Hey, Remember our first meet? I saw how red your ears with shocking face as i show in front of you.

I saw your mom on your side while she keeps on looking for your shirt.

First of all its not really my att to meet someone, i just did because your my boyfriend now and i trust you.

You walk in front of me and we talk like

we dont know how to start but you are the one who broke the silence between us.

I felt like jeez! I need more time to be with you.

#bf #firstmeet #hismom #happy

[minuteminx]

Revolutionary

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

Chapter Eight: Point and Shoot

Chapter Summary:   A night in May 2276 turns out to be pivotal for young Preston.

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

[AO3 Link]

May 2276, Somewhere Near Jamaica Plain

He awoke to shouting outside his house, frenzied and unfamiliar to the typically quiet backdrop of the settlement. However, it was the gunshots and desperate screams, followed by what sounded like his front door slamming open that propelled him upright, heart hammering furiously against his ribs.  Shaking away the groggy confusion, he rushed to his feet and out into the hall just in time to see his dad stumble in through the doorway and collapse into his mom’s arms.  

Paralyzed, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than watch her calmly lower the injured man to the ground. “Dad,” he said, barely more than a whisper.

Hismom snapped around at the sound of his voice, her gentle features illuminated only by the orange glow of a nearby lamp. “Preston, baby ,” she said, voice impossibly calm despite the circumstances, “I need you to go get my medical kit from my bedroom closet.”

Preston could only nod in response, panic clouding his mind.  

“And your dad’s shotgun from under the bed,” she added, “Looks like we might need it.”

“But--”

“Hurry, son,” she urged, frowning as his dad hissed in pain beneath her touch, “We don’t have time for ‘buts.’”

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded again, before darting back to his parents’ bedroom to do as he’d been told.  He grabbed the small aluminum tin filled with his mother’s collection of stims, bandages, alcohol, and other supplies she used to care for her patients from it’s typical spot in the closet.  Then, without taking time to stop completely, reached under the bed, taking hold of the stock of the gun that his dad kept there, locked and loaded, should there be any trouble.

And there was definitely trouble.

Returning to the front room, his steps faltered as he noticed the deep red stain spreading across his dad’s shirt, from shoulder to chest.  Preston swallowed hard, and urged himself forward until he stood right above his parents, gun gripped firmly in one hand as he extended the kit out to his mom with the other.  His arm wobbled as she took it from him.

“Thank you.”

“Is he going to be okay, Mama?” His fingers tightened around the barrel of the gun as he spoke.

She turned to look up at him, flashing a reassuring smile, and sighed, “I think so.  It’s just his shoulder.”

His dad grunted out a pained laugh. “It isn’t just anything.  It hurts like hell.”

She shushed him and began cutting away the dirty fabric of his flannel shirt.  “You’ll live.”

A crackling explosion rang out outside, as if someone had launched a grenade, and Preston’s gaze snapped to the door and then down to the shotgun in his hands.  He knew how to use it, had shot many empty Nuka Cola bottles from the remnants of a fence in the yard.  But he’d never shot at another person, never wanted to. He glanced back down at his mom and wounded father, took a steeling breath, and headed toward the door.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” his mother called after him.

He stopped just as his hand fell on the doorknob, forcing a smile before turning back to look at her with a promise. “I will.”

As he pulled the door open and stepped outside, it was chaos, gunshots and screams swirling around him from all directions.  A house on the far side of the settlement was on fire, smoke billowing out and looming overhead as his neighbors ran about wildly.  In the distance, silhouettes of spiked and caged armor danced in the firelight, shaking guns in the air and tossing molotov cocktails into windows.  

Raiders .  Preston thought to himself. Of course it was the damn raiders.  It always was.  For as long as he’d lived in the area, which was ten of the seventeen years he’d been alive, raiders periodically stormed through the area in search of some sort of “treasure,” rumored to be buried within the ruins of Jamaica Plain.  It seemed they’d been showing up more frequently and in larger numbers as the years passed, and it had only been a matter of time before they stumbled upon the settlement, and everyone knew it. That’s why they signed on with the Minutemen just two years prior, an offer of partnership and protection. Neither of which Preston could see any of at present as he watched settlers chased and gunned down yards away from him.

Trembling, he cocked the shotgun and pulled it up to aim, to do something.  A raider, wrapped in sackcloth and leather and goggles spotted him, and rushed forward, directly into his sights.  It was the perfect shot, and easy one; however, as Preston’s finger hovered over the trigger, he froze, guilt and terror seizing his chest.

How was he supposed to shoot at a person?  It was a person under all of that raider gear, after all, right?  An incredibly violent, drug addled person, but still...

Before he could will his finger to the trigger, a loud buzzing burst of red light flashed past his eyes, striking the raider on the chest.  The raider cried out and fell to the ground, smoke curling up from his body.  More blasts of red light burned through the night sky, filling the air with that distinct ozone scent of laser weapons.  The Minutemen had shown up after all.  Preston let out the breath he’d been holding, and lowered his weapon, thankful his conscience hadn’t cost him his life. At least not this time.

“Y’know,” said a soft voice off to his side, “The gun only works if you point it and shoot.”

He looked up to see a young woman, around his age with bright blue eyes and unruly brown hair, leaning against a fence post near his house.  He glanced down at his weapon and back up at her. “I… um…” was all he could manage.

“Just kiddin’,” she chirped cheerfully, pushing herself off the fence and approaching him, hand outstretched in greeting, “Amelia Hollis, Commonwealth Minutemen.”

Preston said nothing in reply, simply taking her hand and shaking it. She continued, “You all should be safe now.  We’re going to do a few sweeps of the area, then hang out the rest of the night to make sure there aren’t any stragglers.”

“Thank you,” he answered quietly, “For helping us.”

“Well, to quote my obnoxious old man, ‘That’s what we do! Help people at a minute’s notice.’”  She winked at him, but then smiled more seriously. “You’re welcome, uh… I’m sorry I totally forgot to ask your name.”

“Preston,” he blurted out, “Preston Garvey.”

“Right, well it’s nice to meet you,” Amelia said, smile fading into concern, “You got a family, Preston?”

He nodded and pointed a thumb back toward his house. “Yeah. My mom and dad are inside.”

“Are they okay?”

“One of those raider bastards got my dad in the shoulder, but my mom’s good at medicine.  She said he’ll be fine.”

“Good,” she sighed, genuine relief washing over her face.  She glanced over her shoulder toward the group of Minutemen congregating near the center of the settlement and then looked back at Preston.  “I better get back to the others, but I’m glad we could help.”

“Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome again,” she replied, tipping her hat as she turned and marched away.

A smile twitched on Preston’s lips as he watched the woman disappear beyond the curtain of thick smoke.  An idea bloomed in his mind, one that was as old and familiar as the backs of his own hands, one he’d always dismissed as a little boy dream that he’d never quite grown out of. But he was practically a man now, and dreaming wasn’t good enough anymore.  Standing in his front yard, freezing at the thought of protecting himself, protecting his family couldn’t cut it. He needed to do something, take a stand.

“I want to join the Minutemen,” he blurted before he’d even crossed the threshold into his house.  

His dad was standing up now, tattered flannel shirt unbuttoned and draped over his neatly bandaged shoulder.  He met Preston’s gaze, dark eyes filled with worry.  His mom stood several feet away, arms crossed with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk on her face.

“We’ve heard that one before,” she said, punctuating the sentence with a soft laugh as she moved to stand closer to his father, “Those might’ve been the first words that ever came out of your mouth.”

“Damn near it.” His dad laughed and shook his head, looking to his mom with admiration before glancing back at him.  The laughter in his eyes had faded away to concern again.

“What,” Preston asked.

There was a long pause in which neither of his parents said a word, then his dad stepped forward, placed a hand on his shoulder, and tilted his head. “Tonight scared you, didn’t it?  And there’s no use lyin’ to me because I can see it all over your face.”

“I’m not sure what happened out there,”Preston sighed, embarrassed, and looked down at his hands that still clung to the old shotgun, “I had the gun in my hands, a raider right in my sights and… I couldn’t shoot.”

“You’re talking like that’s a bad thing.”  The man leaned back and crossed his arms, faint smile on his lips.

“Isn’t it? Pretty sure you taught me to shoot at bad guys.”

“Son, I taught you to shoot at bottles,” he laughed, “Killing a person… well, that’s different.”

“But the raiders are--”

“People, just like you and me?” His dad thought a minute and then corrected himself. “Well maybe not exactly like you and me, but you get what I’m saying.”

“I say shoot first, feel sorry later,” his mom stated pointedly, eyes flicking between Preston and his dad, and then back, lingering as she continued, “God knows those bastards aren’t going to think twice before carving you up into little pieces.”

“Gabrielle,” his father spoke his mother’s name in a way that was so gentle and firm all at once, “I’m trying to teach our son a lesson.”

“And what’s that, Noah ,” she snapped back at him, clearly upset, “That he should just lay down and die because the bad guys are people too?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

Preston’s parents looked at one another, a silent understanding passing between them, as if they’d carried on an entire conversation with just their eyes. Then, his mom turned to look at him, eyes glassy like they always were when she was trying not to cry.  His dad pressed his lips together, forming a thin line.  

“Why are you guys looking at me like that?” Preston let out a nervous laugh, and straightened his posture.

“Is this really what you want to do, son,” his dad asked, voice strained, “Do you really want to join the militia?”

Preston gave a quick and confident nod. “Yeah.  I want to learn to protect myself. I want to help people.”

Suddenly and unexpectedly, his mom rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could.  He stiffened at the gesture, before bringing up his arms to pat her on the back.  “Mama…” he said, feeling tears burning his own eyes.  

She pulled back to look up at him, and placed a hand on each side of his face. “My little boy, growing up to be a hero.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he protested, words becoming more slurred as his mom’s gentle face holding turned into a playful squeeze of his cheeks, “I doubt I’ll make that much of a difference anyway.”

“I think you will, Preston,” his dad said, a proud smile stretching across his face, “More than you know.”

They stood there together for several moments longer, before his mom sighed and stepped back and away from him, resting her weight on one hip and crossing her arms. “What’s your plan?”

“I talked to one of the Minutemen who came tonight, and she said they’re heading out tomorrow afternoon,” Preston explained, watching as realization dawned on each of his parent’s faces that this likely meant he’d be leaving the next day, “I’ll have to talk to her ranking officer, see if they even want a new recruit.  I haven’t honestly thought any further than that.”

“That’s awfully soon.” His dad voiced the concern that’d been on his face.

“I know, but I don’t want to wait for another raider attack to--” he began to argue but stopped when he saw the resignation in the other man’s eyes-- “Sorry, Dad.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.  Your mom and I are just going to worry about you.”

“And miss you.”

“I’ll miss you all too,” Preston admitted, eyes falling to the ground, before lifting them back up with a smile, “But I’ll swing by as much as I can.”

“You better,” his mother quipped.

It wasn’t long before they’d all gone back to bed, nerves soothed enough from the jarring attack to get some semblance of rest before the next day.  Preston struggled to sleep, thoughts and possibilities racing through his head, fear and uncertainty rising in his chest. As soon as the sun came up he would find Amelia and explain what he hoped to do. Preston had always looked up to the Minutemen, admired them for doing their best, when no one else would.  He’d wanted to be one for as long as he could remember.  Now, if all went according to plan, he would be.

#fallout 4 #preston garvey #preston garvey/sole survivor #preston garvey x sole survivor #revolutionary #update #my writing #fanfic

[disaceters-blog]

Ok so I was scrolling through pictures of Marty playing. These pictures are from like a week ago and I just now noticed ge deADASS PULLEDTHE POLITE CAT FACE

HISMOM LOOKS SO DONE WITHH HIM IM DYING

DEADASS LOOKING AT ME LIKE "IS THIS MY SON" OH MY GOD

#cat #cats #feral cats #funny cats #feral cat #funny cat #tuxedo cat #tuxedo cats #tuxedo kittens #tuxedo kitten #black cat #black cats #white cat #white cats #kitten #kittens #cute kittens #cute kitten #cute cat #cute cats #cat meme #cat memes #polite cat #polite cat ollie

[fancyfade]

I’m bored in the airport so answering swtor question two on phone…

(Paraphrased, cuz IDK how to paste from phone)

Family : is your ocs family a large part of their story? Why or why not? Are they on good terms? Are any of your ocs related?

Tank: her family influenced her skills a lot, and in that way I guess you could say they influenced her story. Her mother taught her how to fight, and tank idolized the stories her mom told her about her (tanks mom’s) bounty hunting days,making tank crave adventure.

She also learned basic repair skills whether her “other mom”, a dx assassin droid that glitched off the dx network, got hurt. She is on great terms with her family and introduces havoc squad to her mom. When she disappears at the start of kotfe, aric and elara contact tanks mom for help due to the aforementioned bounty hunter skillsv Ugh I typed a bunch bit it was deleted stupid phone.

Messilandre: yes, messilandre’s family is a large part of her story in that her parents wanted her to be raised as a Jedi (because her father was a Jedi), so her story wouldn’t have happened without them. Bit during the story, messilandre never talks to her mom (only living family member at this time) or asks her for advice.

Messilandre has a lukewarm relationship with her mother, because teenage messilandre thought her mom was being over protective. Mom also thinks messilandre during chapter one through three has an overly simplistic view of republic vs empire conflict (since messilandre assumes killing the emperor and defeating high ranking dark council member will fix things.

Harin so: Harin sos family does not at the moment affect zir class story a ton. Zie has a younger sister who idolizes zie, and two parents who are (profession yet to be thpugt of). I guess Harin sos family is defined by their very average relationship and lack of closeness, because after flunking out of mystic school, Harin so feels as though there is nothing tying zir to voss.

When Harin so goes to voss for the plot, zie attempts to reconnect with zir family and introduce them to the crew and Felix (zir boyfriend). The parents are relatively cold and disapprove of Harin so leaving voss behind (and changing so much in the years zie has been away), but after a brief fight, zir sister winds up with a stronger relationship with zir than before, as she understands now why Harin so left and wishes she was brave enough to do that for herself.

Tai: tai is one of only two ocs who is related to another oc (the other one being the one who’s related to him, lycaea).

Tais mom, raihon, married lycaeas dad,kyros. The family he was raised in affected his backstory more than his class story. He was instilled with the suitable sith moral code, meaning he looked out for number one and was not opposed to hurting people if it would benefit him. He spent the past ten years learning to be a decent person, and would now rather die than treat people the way he used to.

He got along with hismom when he lived with her, but doesn’t think he would now. He assumes she’d prefer to believe he’s dead than to see how he’s changed.

He was terrified of kyros and kind of a jerk to lycaea and patrus (his and lycaeas half brother) when they all lived together. Post kotfe tai gets along with lyvaea, bit not pre kotfe

lycaea lived in same family as tai, so doing her here. Her family, however,Greatly affects her story. Her father was abusive to her and her half brother, and what kicks off her going to korriban is how she confronts him and her fears.

lycaea also comes to her stepmother, raihon, for help on a force related matter in the start of shadow of revan.

lycaea hated her father, has an uneasy truce with her stepmother, is protective of her half-brother, and eventually gets along with tai.

Nehari’s family mostly influenced who she didn’t want to be growing up. Hermom was a civilian with no combat skills, and when nehari saw her being pushed around by people working for the hutts, she knew she never wanted to “let” herself be in that position of perceived weakness.

Neharis family can’t influence her directly (aside from very far off ancestors, like kallig) because they are dead (and not ghosts)

Xareesh had two moms (one was a swordswoman, the other a swordsmith) and two brothers and one sister. Her older brother was a bit protective of her, which she thought was condescending, but not like he thought she couldn’t fight, he was worried she’d make the wrong decision. He eventually got told to chill about that by their swordsmith mom.

Her parents influenced her skills (especially the one who taught her how to fight with a sword :p) but fine directly impact plot into maybe kotfe (thinking her swordsmith mom is still alive and joins Xareesh’s band of kaleesh warriors in a support role).

Aereinys is mostly defined by her lack of family. Her parents died when she was just a baby, and she was raised in whatever the empire has for orphanages (I imagine a state school aimed at turning kids into “productive members of imperial society” so… Soldiers)

#swtor15 #swtor #me lovely little ocs #saeyt doraz #harin so #messilandre melina #taimen kor #xahaiyarishin #nehari racin #lycaea archeliou #aereinys trin #abuse cw #oc family details

[forgottensoulreaper]

' Senna! come on honey you're gonna be late for school! I got breakfast ready.' / <3

The young girl groaned weakly in protest as she rolled over. "Just give me a few more minutes..." Her tone groggy and weak, she pulled the comforter over a majority of her head. "The bed is so comfortable, I don't want to move yet."

#hismom