My last chance to bat, although I never struck out;
I want you to go and tell holmes to get the fuck out.
Now, I’m a team player, so hon don’t get committed,
‘Cause every now and then, I’ll be there to hit it.
Prince Markie Dee and the Soul Convention - Typical Reasons (Swing My Way) (Still Swingin’ Remix)
9 notes
·
View notes
The more I see the phrase “eldest daughter syndrome” the higher it raises my hackles. It’s just parentification. It’s parentification and if you call it parentification it’s a lot easier to explain, and it’s a lot easier for the younger siblings or only children and children of any gender to identify it happening to them too.
Like I get that oldest sibs are more likely to be treated as accessory parents of their youngers, and I get that in a lot of families girls are pushed into caregiver roles, but fucking hell man parentification can and does happen to any kid regardless of birth order and gender, and while situations vary from family to family, there isn’t really anything the parentified oldest daughters are experiencing that the other parentified kids aren’t.
22K notes
·
View notes
cleaned up some stuff I started drawing while listening to the lackadaisy monkey wrench shop talk :]
596 notes
·
View notes
simon who lets you cry.
simon who sees the same heartbreak he sees in himself, the same desperate need for survival, the desperate need for rest.
simon who understands. he knows you don’t mean it. he knows you can’t control yourself what you snarl and bite. he knows you regret, he understands.
simon who doesn’t shy away when you get mad, when your chest heaves and your eyes narrow. he instead stays, calm hands gentle yet firm, helping you unclench your fists. he kisses the marks your nails leave on your palm.
simon who isn’t frightened, or angry, or upset. simon who understands. who struggles the same way you do.
simon who is there for every up and down, every tear and every smile. he does his research, finds the best techniques and learns them off by heart.
he knows. he understands. no, he isn’t mad. yes, you’re allowed to cry.
360 notes
·
View notes
i have never felt that ethel cain is mother. she is my older sister stuffing swisher sweets into the inner pockets of my winter jacket at the convenience store and making me watch her play creepypasta games on her laptop that will give me nightmares well into adulthood
147 notes
·
View notes