miz-joely replied to your text post

Un effing believable. Shaking my head

I nearly stroked out with rage when I found out.

miz-joely replied to your post: Beautiful African Violets blooming! So pleased! …
OMG she did it on PURPOSE??? Is she nucking futs?

Yup. She did it on purpose, lied about it and hide it until she was fair enough long to not be able to get an abortion, and then was like, “I’m preggo and you can’t tell me what to do I’m eighteen I do what I want yada yada blah blah.” At that point I would have bitch slapped her to the moon and cut her off from all the financial spoiling, but I’m not her mom. She gets a big, expensive prom dress, and this and that. I don’t even know if she’ll be able to fit in the dress and not show off the belly. I’m so angry with her I could croak.

Beautiful African Violets blooming! So pleased!

Today I got my bleeding hearts, holly hocks, and cardinal seeds planted at round the flag pole. Yippie! Still need to plant the sunflowers and veggies. And repot the weigles. Oh and the ferns. Spring, its unending! 

Oh and tomorrow I have to drive two hours one way to pick up Arin’s prom dress. I feel like we’re rewarding her for getting pregnant on purpose and lying about it, but if I don’t do it grandma will and trust me when I say we don’t want her behind the wheel for four hours. Oh, and there’s road work, so its more two and half to three hours one way. Eternal sobbing. Do not want.

Beautiful African Violets blooming! So pleased!

Today I got my bleeding hearts, holly hocks, and cardinal seeds planted at round the flag pole. Yippie! Still need to plant the sunflowers and veggies. And repot the weigles. Oh and the ferns. Spring, its unending!

Oh and tomorrow I have to drive two hours one way to pick up Arin’s prom dress. I feel like we’re rewarding her for getting pregnant on purpose and lying about it, but if I don’t do it grandma will and trust me when I say we don’t want her behind the wheel for four hours. Oh, and there’s road work, so its more two and half to three hours one way. Eternal sobbing. Do not want.

Its been months since I’ve had a fibro attack this excruciating. Wow. Hot damn. Fairly certain its because tilled around the flagpole by hand, about a foot wide circle all around it. Listen, I’ve been gardening a long ass time, but I have literally never in my life seen grass roots so fucking strong and HUGE in my life. It took me forever, because they wouldn’t come up. Me and that spade were at work for an hour and a half I mean JEEZ. The flag pole is set in concrete, and the roots grew over the side and curled under the concrete.

If I feel better after sun up I’m putting my new bleeding hearts out. Hopefully this weekend the guys are building a fence on the side if our house, so the dogs will have a pen and not be out on leads on the front porch. So next week I’m going to start building a flower bed in front of the porch. I’m not sure if I should use stone or wood. Also I have to pot some flowers. Oh, and one of our African Violets finally bloomed!

I’m watching Battlestar Gallactica (again). Episode 2. Cue me hitting the fetal position and weeping even though I know what happens lmao. This show kicks my ass with awesome.

Mmmnmm heating pad. Yes yes yes.

flavialikestodraw:


"I know you are not John Harrison".
Her words stilled his movement; his lips closed, resting upon the soft and bruised skin just below her left ear. He always devoted an adequate time of their foreplay to mark her, to show the others that she was taken, not at someone else’s disposal. In one word: his. He remembered one time, when he had covered her body with love bites, and in return, she had branded the skin of his back with the scrapes inflicted by her short nails. The light pain had only enhanced the sweet agony of being inside her, engulfed in her tight warmth, waiting for her to reach her orgasm, before letting go and fill her; but it was a sacrifice he had made gladly, because his reward was witnessing the moment in which she finally lost control over her body, over her mind, and welcomed the chaos.
He chased away the memory, and lifted his face, and a drop of sweat dropped from his eyebrows: his gaze followed with envy his path, from the valley just upon her breast, slowly marching down, towards her flat belly, finally reaching her navel. He trembled from the effort of restraining himself from replaying the same trail, and decided to observe the now silent woman trapped under his arms. She was shivering, but not because she was cold. It was because of the lust, obviously, and…for the first time he saw something different in her chestnut, deep eyes. Oh, what a fool had he been - he could now feel the raw passion, bubbling underneath the surface of a prim-looking girl; the fury, barely restrained, ready to explode. He could understand her anger: after all, he had lied to her, about a lot of things, for months. Since the first time he had seen her, outside the Starfleet hospital, and he had decided that he wanted her. A flicker of defiance appeared in her eyes; unfortunately, it was time for him to take action.
His left hand closed against her neck with the speed of a snake assaulting its prey, but he didn’t tightened his grip on her. His voice deepened, and a part of him exulted at the spontaneous moan that escaped from her sinful lips.

"And. Who. Are. You, Molly Hooper?"

From "The Darkest Star" by potemkinx
This is the link for the other fic inspired by this drawing:
Breathe by jackandhoney
The title of this fanart (and the inspiration for do it) was taken from this song:
The Darkest Star by Depeche Mode

flavialikestodraw:

"I know you are not John Harrison".

Her words stilled his movement; his lips closed, resting upon the soft and bruised skin just below her left ear. He always devoted an adequate time of their foreplay to mark her, to show the others that she was taken, not at someone else’s disposal. In one word: his. He remembered one time, when he had covered her body with love bites, and in return, she had branded the skin of his back with the scrapes inflicted by her short nails. The light pain had only enhanced the sweet agony of being inside her, engulfed in her tight warmth, waiting for her to reach her orgasm, before letting go and fill her; but it was a sacrifice he had made gladly, because his reward was witnessing the moment in which she finally lost control over her body, over her mind, and welcomed the chaos.

He chased away the memory, and lifted his face, and a drop of sweat dropped from his eyebrows: his gaze followed with envy his path, from the valley just upon her breast, slowly marching down, towards her flat belly, finally reaching her navel. He trembled from the effort of restraining himself from replaying the same trail, and decided to observe the now silent woman trapped under his arms. She was shivering, but not because she was cold. It was because of the lust, obviously, and…for the first time he saw something different in her chestnut, deep eyes. Oh, what a fool had he been - he could now feel the raw passion, bubbling underneath the surface of a prim-looking girl; the fury, barely restrained, ready to explode. He could understand her anger: after all, he had lied to her, about a lot of things, for months. Since the first time he had seen her, outside the Starfleet hospital, and he had decided that he wanted her. A flicker of defiance appeared in her eyes; unfortunately, it was time for him to take action.

His left hand closed against her neck with the speed of a snake assaulting its prey, but he didn’t tightened his grip on her. His voice deepened, and a part of him exulted at the spontaneous moan that escaped from her sinful lips.

"And. Who. Are. You, Molly Hooper?"

From "The Darkest Star" by potemkinx

This is the link for the other fic inspired by this drawing:

Breathe by jackandhoney

The title of this fanart (and the inspiration for do it) was taken from this song:

The Darkest Star by Depeche Mode

Headcanon

strawberrypatty:

Sherlock’s feet get cold at night. He is always tucking them in with Molly’s.

But it’s okay because her hands get cold and he’ll cover them with his own.

livebloggingmydescentintomadness:

seraphfeathers:

date a boy who’s an angel. not like when people use angel as a synonym for sweet but a literal angel with six wings and thirty eyes and three heads of different animals. date a boy who uses a flaming sword and has a murderous vengeance that burns even hotter. 

image

(Source: seraphfeathers, via quarteraftercapaldi)

My Aunt Jeanie had a stroke today. she caught it in time that she’s not, you know, as bad as it could be. But it’s hard to understand her speech and her face droops. Still, they’re saying they may send her home tomorrow. (???????????)

Family emergencies and drama, ooh good.

captainarlert:

therealbarbielifts:

bergerwithcheese:

trumpetnista:

2ndratehandjob:

lady-dirtbag:

marchqueen:

tastefullyoffensive:

Portals to Hell by hrmphfft

IT’S BACK

I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO FIND THIS AGAIN FOR MONTHS

I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW

ITS BACK 

This is one of those posts that you need to save and tag or you’ll never see it again for 84 years.

Whoever drew this is an amazing person and I love them.

What in hell

(via cumber-crown)

besospipita:

valleypunx:

knowledgeequalsblackpower:

paisle4n:

prsjon:

The Doll Test

This self hate thing is DEEP

this makes me mad 

This is a compilation of doll tests featuring children of many races.

This is so fucking important

this (unintentional) social conditioning is so sickening.

(Source: lindsaychrist, via capnjackelback)