Mother loves to humiliate her boys — take huge shots at their fragile manhood, by filling their guts ‘til they’re all big and fat, and dressing them up in revealing, ‘feminine’ clothes. There’s no feeling more grand than the one she gets when she’s got a bloated boy parading around her home — like the disgusting, embarrassed, pregnant little bitch that he is — objectifying himself, and looking to her for reassurance.
Most guys are easy to break — quick to wear down, and succumb to their indignity — but Tyler… Tyler is one hard nut for Mother to crack. He enjoys being the victim of her humiliation scheme — getting to pig out for hours at a time, grow incredibly fat, and dress up in skimpy outfits — finds it more humorous than embarrassing. He’d much sooner laugh at himself, and rub his gigantic gut, than feel ashamed of his half-naked figure… and Mother absolutely hates it.
He won’t come back to see her if he’s not emotionally dependent on her… and she couldn’t stand to lose him.
Though she’s tried everything to shake his confidence, she just can’t get the upper hand. It isn’t until she’s down on her knees, making sweet, sloppy love to his stomach, that his childish, unbothered giggling ceases, and his whimpering begins. Only then does Mother regain her power over Tyler’s body image… and, in those moments — when she’s got her lips pressed to his tummy, and her tongue dug an inch deep into his navel — she makes him feel great about himself.
i was gonna do my monthly/weekly i hate my art post but i saw something that made me start crying so i think ill put it off and try to be a little kinder to myself
Your love is a masquerade, a dance, a work of art. You love with a veil across your face, unable to allow anyone to see the real you. Can that be considered love, you wonder? As a performer, you have all your lines prepared, and you know exactly what to say and when to say it. You’re charismatic and bold, seductive and hypnotic. Your love is a snake’s melody, the siren song of the sea. Your love is enchanting. Your love is melodic. Your love is afraid and fearful and longing. You ache to tear the veil off, you ache to cast poetry aside for the sake of something real and gritty. You’re terrified of the very thought. Being loved by you is to be loved by an artist; it is to be a muse. It reflects others beautifully, but never, ever yourself. Not really. Not truly.
Love as a Choice
You choose to love. Love does not come to you easily, but every day you wake up and choose it. It would be so easy, wouldn't it, to grow cold and callous and grim. But you rise to greet the world, making the conscious effort to find something, anything to love. When you fall for someone, you do not kid yourself of their flaws. Instead, you resolve to see them for who they are, mistakes and all and you love them all the same. Your love is work, and it does not come easy. Your love sweats and toils. It is calloused and sunburned; it bears scars and comes with stories. Your love is worn, but it is no less valuable for it. Being loved by you is like being loved by a gardener, a mother, a teacher. Your love may not always be the simplest, but it is worth the effort.
idk if your post was about the 70s music toruney but the pain and suffering i felt seeing the temptations' papa was a rollin stone loose to that poser ass band the clash. i saw red. sorry you dont know me and i dont know you. i had to say this to someone
it actually was somewhat inspired by that lol but also just by general trends ive noticed here about music. both pretty famous songs but how can you listen to them back to back and not think the temptations are better </3
Terry and Hulk trying to have a match while JYD cannot leave Jimmy alone. And Terry just dragging Jimmy's husk after JYD headbutts him is somehow incredibly relatable. Also Terry *why*