Mother And Child - Tumblr Posts

Boom on Flickr.

Via Flickr: rough sketch from an old illustration- I liked it so I posted it.

Before the coffee gets cold

Toshikazu Kawaguchi

(I hate the 30 # limit with a passion :p anywho, I'm omw to go back to reading from a slump that lasted most of my Bachelors so time to read all I can, for the sake of reading, and for pleasure, before entering Masters. I love literature but GODDAMMIT I became a book collector. Time to go back to book reading, actually READING a book and not an ao3 fanfic cause ofc I am easily distracted by hannigram 😩 and anything on YouTube. YES, I did go through all 10 stages of grief with ao3 being down. Yes, I know there are only five :))) Doesn't stop a girl from being completely insane 🙂 And yes, I have revived the flow of the frozen blood in this blog cause one gotta do silly things every now and then on our beloved hellsite UwU)

Ave, Maria! (2012)

Little boy, his mom and three ships (2018)

Illustration for my friend’s short story, published in 2019 year in her book “Сапфировое море” (”Sapphire Sea”)

BY BLOOD

She’s your mother, but only by blood.

Word count: 1,2k

Genre: verbal violence!au, life lesson

ᴡ ᴀ ʀ ɴ ɪ ɴ ɢ s; slight mention of family!abuse & sexual harassment, mentions of violence, words13+

“You stupid girl!”

The yells of your mother echoed through the apartment as you enter it.

She came out rushing, a phone on her right hand and eyes redder than the devil is, redder than usual. Her hair a mess, clothes torn out in her diminished body and face white, as pale as death.

You watched her as she brisk pace towards you, an expression on her face that you couldn’t quite figure out. There was regret, disappointment, worry…but most of all anger.

Your body, on the other hand felt feeble. You weren’t there mentally, still shocked by the events that happened previously. Too unsteady to stand still, and as your mother’s hand landed on your cheek with force, it made you wonder if coming here was any better than leaving away from him.

“You’ve been away..for god’s know how long, and then I get a phone call that my daughter has been bloody harassed by a man I trusted her to be alone all the damn time?!” She shrieked in an upsetting voice while her tears stained her cheeks, a hand on her forehead as a self-soothing gesture.

Your mother went through a lot. A thing she could never accept and comprehend was her daughter been taken advantage of and been exposed.

Like she didn’t do that to you everyday.

Like she wasn’t the main reason her daughter was being so frail and powerless.

“Y/n…how could you not tell me..?” Sadness overwhelmed her as she took you in her arms.

You stood there with your head still tilled by the hit she gave you not seconds ago. Your features didn’t flinch the slightest, and neither did your body. You let it go away, as your mother always advised you. Unexpressed, gulping down the pain you felt when your mother tighten her hold on you, hearing her cries echoing and filling the void.

You let her be your prop for once only to prevent you from falling. You had no strength to fight.

No strength to cry, to yell.

To say so many unspoken things like; “I would tell my mother but you’re not one.”

And you smiled at the thought…you smiled at the thought of leaving this hell hole of an apartment and life behind.

You felt so trapped and unwanted that some times, it seemed hard to breathe in here with her. Like it would be bad and it would annoy her.

“I’m sorry.” She said, “You hear me…?”

And you heard.

But it was too late for her to be forgiven.

You heard her repeat these words for so long, know it now by heart because you actually believed in them. Believed in her.

You had hoped that one day, she’ll pass through her anger and see the damage she causes.

“How could I be this cruel to my little girl…My love forgive me please.” She pleaded with tears in her eyes.

“I did that.” She fell on her knees with you and broke down in tears, “I fucking hurt you again! I don’t deserve you…I’m so sorry Y/n”

“I know that it hurts, honey, but that’s what happens when you don’t do what I say.”

“If you Ever leave, I’ll die…hm? You don’t want mama dead, right??”

“It will never happen again– I promise, I’m so sorry, so sorry.”

Tears. Pleads. Yells.

They never really ended.

And that was mainly the reason your mother’s tears didn’t affect you anymore.

“Talk to me Y/n!! Say something— a-anything!” She pleaded, searching deep into your eyes…maybe some kind of feelings you didn’t shown for years now.

“Y/N YOU HEAR ME?” She shook your body worryingly so you could look down at her, and as you stare at her face with nothing but dead eyes, not a word was spoken from your lips.

“So that’s what’s going to happen? You’ll stand there, watch me cry while you say nothing?…Talk god dammit!”

She yelled.

It's a little disconcerting how deeply she's looking into your eyes, as if she's searching for something. The intense eye contact only serves to thicken the tension between the two of you as she waits for your answer.

She was your mother, yes— by the name, but not at all by heart. You couldn’t feel the love radiating off of her body when she caressed you like before. That woman didn’t know you at all and it made you let a hollow laugh at the realisation.

The only thing you did was to take her arms off of you. You looked down defeatedly and turned around to the only place you could find a little peace.

Your room.

“Y/n.” She called as she followed you, but you didn’t halt as she expected and step up your pace.

“Where are you going?? You think you can get away that easy?” She called out behind you. “You enjoyed it deeply inside you, didn’t you? Are you that greedy?!”

Finis.

That’s all it took for you to come to a stop.

Your voice barely audible as you choked the words, “You think of me that low?”

Your back was still facing her tremulous self, hiding the harden your face had formed. There are times, when words drill into your skin deeper than any weapon you’ve ever think of. And the repeat of the same mistakes she makes, has you feeling drilled in holes.

An emptiness.

You couldn’t believe what your ears heard.

No. You must have been mistaken.

Been harassed and then blamed for liking it by your own blood?

Past the limits.

“You don’t seem to deny it…”

There was a pause, instant regret in her voice. She knew the things she said was too fucked up to the situation yet she couldn’t help but utter them, not counting the damage it could cause you yet again.

“The least you could do…” You tried not to sound angry, “Is not to talk. Did not wait any better from you anyways.”

And the door closed.

There was once a boy who was very angry. His father, gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper he would have to nail a nail against the fence.

On the first day, the boy had nailed 37 nails to the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails gradually decreased. He found it easier to keep his cool rather than nail the nails to the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy did not get angry at all. He said it to his father and he told him that now, each time he kept his composure he would have to unpin a nail. The days passed, and the little boy finally told his father that he had removed all the nails.

The father took his son and guide him to the fence. He said, "You've done well, son, but look at the holes in the fence. Never will the fence be the same. When you say things while you're angry, they leave scars like these. You can stab someone and then pull the knife. No matter how many times you apologize, the wound will be there."

The little boy then understood the power words held. He looked at his father regretfully and said, "Father, I hope you can forgive me for the holes I made to you."

"Of course I can," answered his father.

It's not always anger, but your actions in general. There are no "new beginnings" in life. There is no new beginning. Many people forgive easily, but the scars of the past never go away. Be careful of what you say today because sometimes the price isn't worth the reward.

_—_–.

What seems to be something, is far from what it actually may be. We don’t always need words to clarify our sense. Some pictures speak for themselves louder than words do.

Hope you enjoyed!

#firstpost ©𝘈𝘤𝘩𝘣𝘣𝘺𝘴000 𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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What i was hearing while writing this;

Moonlight scene, loosely inspired by Kei Acedera’s amazing work :)

Character Design Challenge (Day 28: Create a lineup of 2 or more characters who would be part of a stylized fantasy world: The Eatherians)

Anyone who’s humored my original works in the past may recognized Willham on the far left, I consider the rest of this cast her family/neighbors from her village. The Wise Woman, Willham’s rival, The Elder, a warrior, a small child, the child’s mother.

Nothing compares to this connection.

Mother, should I run for president?

Simple life

pencil drawing on paper

Calbayog City 2024

Everywhere I look in the Philippines there are women holding young children. It's so beautiful.

Some thoughts:

I had an art teacher once who told me to work fast. So I work fast. When I draw it's a battle between the pencil and the eraser. I draw and erase and draw and erase. What's left on the page is "the drawing." I had another art teacher once who said "I like to draw a lot of lines because I know at least one of them will be right." I think about that when I draw.

pencil drawing on paper

Calbayog City 2024

Mommy outside the store yesterday

pencil drawing on paper

Calbayog City 2024

Day to day living

pencil drawing on paper

Calbayog City 2024

pencil drawing Calbayog City 2024

Pencil drawing Calbayog City 2024

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pencil drawing in my Moleskin

Calbayog City 2024

We are reborn in our children.

pencil drawing in my Moleskine

Calbayog City 2024

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If anyone knows who made this let me know and i'll credit them x

damn forgot abt tumblr- anyway drew rouge for ace’s bday cuz i dont like him ♥︎