#net positive fr

[the-mpreg-guy]

i agree that the confession would make more sense if dean had confessed and that triggered the deal, but i think the confession was based more around "permission to be happy" that the empty said when they made the deal with cas. like cas is, in that moment, using his happiness and love as a weapon, and is giving himself permission to be openly in love with dean. so while i do think dean is more likely to confess his feelings i think the writers knew the network wouldn't allow dean to be openly queer. so instead they had to back castiel into doing it instead. and they did figure out exactly how to push him into it by basically making his happiness and love useful in a moment where he could save dean, that's literally the only reason he'd ever confess.

in complete agreement. the network was never going to let one of the two main leads be explicitly openly queer so it fell to the writers to juggle making castiel the “gay one” while keeping deans reactions vague enough to please everyone (they pleased no one. everyone hates this)

i have super mixed feelings about the confession itself bc on the one hand. yes. the only circumstance i could see cas canonically telling dean he loves him would be during a situation where it would save him. on the other hand i don’t find the love confession narratively satisfying. i’m not sure if i would be happier about it if they had let dean reciprocate properly?

i do love that it allows cas to be emotionally open about something he was suppressing. it’s. not really a character changing moment exaxtly tho bc again he’s only admitting it to save dean.

but i truly love what it did for nov 5th for the rest of time

[cauchesque]

Despite your blog title, you appear to have no posts about SBF or FTX. Curious.

sadly the anti-crypto fascist deep state finds free thinkers such as myself abhorrent. i advocate for our martyr when it comes up, but i fear reprisal if i make myself a center of the coming movement. remember, if i stop posting- im not suicidal

[lipstickontheglass1985]

*głosem kulinarnej vlogerki* NIE UWIERZYCIE w ten OBŁĘDNY makaron który właśnie sobie przyrządziłam i zjadłam na STUDENCKI obiad!

[idontmindifuforgetme]

#this! #it's the: #you're so obsessed with how you are perceived that you can't fully enjoy living #let's enjoy living!!

“To try to not be more interesting but be more interested” literally changed my life perspective btw

[rosesnurhair]

soccer player ellie headcanons cus she's so cute and I feel like she'd play either soccer, rugby, or softball!

{cw: idk much abt soccer, mention of bruises, a bit of sub!top!ellie, switch!reader, not lots of dialogue, ellie begs to eat reader out, nsfw and sfw separated, cum eating, use of “mommy” ellies just a big loser fr..}

sfw:

loser!goalie!ellie who when she looks at the scoreboard and notices that the opposing team is winning, stomps her foot on the ground and crosses her arms angrily and childishly; a moment which you constantly laugh at.

loser!goalie!ellie who's the most determined goalie you've ever seen, no seriously, she'll literally throw herself in the air to make sure the ball never even remotely touches the net, which stresses you out completely.

loser!goalie!ellie who melts into your touch whenever you bandage her bruises and press soft kisses to her forehead. “els anyone with two eyes could've seen that the ball was no where near the net, there was no need to almost do a cartwheel and nearly break your leg” proper place name backstory special stuff... cus she's not listening, obv too focused on how pretty the worried expression on your face looks right now.. tilting her head in her hands and smiling away. ^_^

loser!goalie!ellie who’s the happiest person alive when you praise her because she yearns for your validation at all times so when you're watching her practice out on the field, running back towards you during breaks to ask “did y’see that, aren't I doing so much better than last practice, didn't even have to get in any insane positions this time to block the ball!” in which you reply “ I did, you're doin’ so well els!” after that with a wide smile she'll skip back to the field twirling her auburn locks through her pointer finger!

loser!goalie!ellie who's the giddiest person ever when her team wins, she'll jump around and scream on the field then basically pounce on you to give you the biggest hug ever with a “WE WONNNN” like you can't see the scoreboard for yourself.

➽──────────────❥➽──────────────❥

nsfw:

loser!goalie!ellie who's immediately on you when you both arrive home, her hands are on your hips grinding her knee into your clothed cunt, her tongue swallowing yours, exchanging spit in the sloppiest manner possible, she's moaning into your mouth like a slut, already completely wet just from kissing you.

loser!goalie!ellie who acts like you're the one to score the points for her, breathlessly you sigh out “els— baby—wait let me cook for you or somethin, after all it's your win” and of course she uses an excuse along the lines of “couldnt have done it without you now please let me show just how appreciative I am pleaseplease—” begging to you eat out like the whore she is.. but you let her of course !

loser!goalie!ellie who's eating it like her life depended on it, her short hair disheveled and messy as your fingers are tangled in it, pushing her face closer to your heat, head lolling back with your freehand grasping onto the soft pillows, a string of uhh's and ohh— fuck's leave your slightly parted lips.

loser!goalie!ellie who's obsessed with your scent and taste, she'll get off on eating you out, taking her middle finger and making small circles on her clit as she's fucking her tongue in and out of your seeping hole, licking long stripes from your hole to your clit, your legs trembling as they close around her head to grind against her tongue, shaky breaths leave your lips as you cum right in her mouth and of course ellie doesn't miss a drop.

loser!goalie!ellie who goes “mmm— taste so good fuckfuckfuck thank you mommy thank you—” as she cums on her own fingers whilst licking yours up. you prop yourself up to look at the mess she's making, grinding against her own fingers, and glossy lips, taking kitten licks at your puffy cunt.

“mm— made mommy feel so good, my turn to take care of my girl now, hmm?” you say happily wanting to return the favor, and of course... she lets you ! <3

idk that much ab soccer sorry^_^

[alpaca-clouds]

You Cannot Create A Solarpunk Future Under Capitalism

I am feeling like a broken record, but I just need to make this clear once more: No, Solarpunk in any form is not possible under capitalism. If you think it is, you either fail to understand Solarpunk, or you don't get what capitalism even means.

Technically I wrote about this already almost exactly a year ago. Let me reiterate it again, though: Solarpunk at its core is build around a couple of ideas. Those are:

Living in relative harmony with our environment, rather than destroying it. (Which includes using renewable energies.)

Decolonialism.

Social justice and the same rights, chances and possibilities for all people.

Neither of those three points is archievable under capitalism, as the end goals of capitalism are opposed to each of them.

Let me go through each of them.

Environmental Sustainability is not archievable under capitalism.

This is the point people tend to argue about the most. Because they will go: "But if the renewable energy sources are cheaper than fossil fuels, the capitalist will see more possibilities to make money with it." Well, do I have news for you: A variety of renewable sources, such as solar and wind power, are already a lot cheaper than fossil fuels and yet somehow the capitalist argue against using them. Care to explain that? No? Well, I'll do it for you. (Technically already did in that blog last year.)

See, when someone's net worth is listed somewhere, most of them actually do not have billions of dollars on their bank accounts. And no, they also do not swim in gold coins. Instead their net worth comes from calculating how much money they would be able to make if they sold all thier assets. A lot of those assets are shares in companies they have, as well as stuff like their fancy houses, fancy cars, fancy private jets and fancy yachts. Most billionaires have not more than a couple tens million dollars in liquid money, meaning money they can just spend. If they wanna buy something that is more expensive, they will usually go to a bank, say: "Look at all the stuff I have. I wanna buy myself more stuff. Gimme money?" And the bank will go: "Of course, Sir Billionaire, here you go. Have a nice 10 billion dollars."

And this is where the issue arrises: Most of the billionaires who are investing in the energy market, have already invested billions in fossil fuels. Be it by owning shares of fossil fuel companies, or by owning mines, oil rigs, power plants and the like. And this puts them into a silly little position: Even if they wanted to make more money through renewables, they cannot without harming themselves. Because in the moment that renewables become even more viable than they already are, fossil fuels lose their viabilities - and hence all the assets they hold in fossil fuels lose their value in an instant. The billionairs know that. The banks know it, too. Which is why banks do not want to give the fossil fuel billionaires money for that, even if they ask.

And that is only on the energy-generating side of it. If you go into the other stuff that harms our environment... Simply put: Public transport will never make as much money, as selling everyone their own car. And plastics are just so much cheaper than any alternatives. And the companies need fast fashion, because they won't make as much money, if folks only go buying new clothes every ten years.

Capitalism is build on the exploitation of the environment.

You cannot archieve decolonialization under capitalism.

Let's talk about the call to decolonize next. This is even easier explained: Capitalism is build on colonialism. And contrary to what you might have been told in school, colonialism has never ended. Most indigenous folks never got their ancestral land back - or have to fight to remain on it to this day. The most notable examples you know off might be indigenous people on their land (at times the land they originally had been forced onto after their ancestral land had been stolen from them) fighting pipelines that the capitalists want to put onto that land. That is colonialism.

In fact a lot of the raw material we use to power capitalism is produced on stolen land or is moved across stolen land to be financially viable. Be it oil springs, that can be found there. Or be it mines. That is both mines that produce coal, but also mines that are used to produce lithium and other materials used in batteries of electric cars. These raw materials should technically belong to the indigenous people from whose land those materials are sourced. And we do know for a fact that some of them will prefer to leave those materials in the ground. Maybe because of the harm to the environment that mining for them creates. Maybe because the land is sacred to them. Maybe because some of them just do not care about cheap electric cars.

It is more than that, of course. Because colonialism also allows for slave labor. And yes, I mean slave labor. Like classical slave labor where people are pressganged into laboring in those mines, or in other factories, where they are not paid at all - or are paid in breadcrums. The reason that the global south is so abhorently poor, even though most of the raw materials powering our world are found there, is, that the people in the global south are exploited, while the land is often owned by people from the global north, who either got it through colonialism - or by buying it from someone who got it through colonialism.

And once again: The profit motive of capitalism is directly opposed to decolonizing - and because of that it won't happen. Capitalism is built on colonial exploitation.

You cannot archive social justice under capitalism.

Capitalism as a system was invented for one reason and one reason alone: To allow former nobility, who were close to lose their power and influence in a Europe of anti-royal revolutions, to hold onto the power and influence and veil it underneath the idea of meritocracy. Basically saying: "Everyone gets what they deserve based on the work they got in." Obviosly they got the most, because they owned the land that everyone was working and living on. And then they did their best to brainwash everyone into believing this - at which they actually succeeded.

Here is the thing: Capitalism needs an underclass to exploit. Sure, a good chunk of that exploitation will happen in other countries, where the poor white middleclass folks do not need to see them toil, but some of that exploitation simply cannot be done in those other countries. At times because the work physically needs to happen in the western nations - stuff like road contruction, general contruction work, cleaning and such are an example of this. And at times because some things might be time critical, cannot be transported that far and stuff like that - like farm work in some cases, or also all the Amazon warehouse stuff. Oh, and all those fastfood jobs belong into this area. Stuff that is paid minimum wage and exploited to no end.

And then there is of course prison labor in the US, which once again is just slavery.

And all of that does not even go into the care and nursing work that is either underpaid by a ton when it is happening on the open market (like in hospitals, schools, kindergardens and other care facilities) - or is happening completely for free. Mosten done by women, who will care for both children, as well as elders and disabled family members for free.

The true endgoal of capitalism is to turn the labor of the lower classes into money and value for the upper class to hoard like bloody dragons. As such capitalism will never be compatible with any sort of equal rights and equal chances.

Those three aspects are truths that just cannot be changed. Capitalism will never be able to create any sort of justice, equal rights, or sustainability. It is not in the interest of capitalism to do so, either.

[meazalykov]

goal that came with a price

esmee brugts x barca!reader

warnings: acl injury

Under the floodlights on a Champions League night, I stood ready as the crowd embraced our team. After the captains on both sides met up to decide who gets the ball first, the starting eleven including myself took off our jackets and went into our positions. The crowd roared, vibrating with anticipation as the match against SK Brann began.

My heart raced as this wasn’t an ordinary league game, this is the second-leg of the quarter-final in the Champions League at home. After a few minutes of being on the pitch, I picked up my pace. With my smooth footwork and speed, I darted across the field. Everytime one of the Barcelona midfielders passed the ball to me, the ball bounced at my feet as I tried to weave past Brann defenders. Many times I've missed a chance to score due to side tackles and a lack of space inside of the box, but that is expected. 

Minutes felt like mere seconds as the game unfolded. My determination to score and leave my mark on the match was palpable. If I had to guess, based off of the fact that I don't have a watch on me, thirty minutes have gone by and my irritation was showing on my face. With each pass and each dribble I take, I realized that I am hungry to score. 

I looked among the field to see my lover and teammate, Esmee, at the left-back position dribbling around a SK Brann forward before passing the ball to Aitana. Everyone ran up the field as Aitana found a huge amount of space for opportunity. My heart raced as I waved my hand to signal for a pass. The Spanish woman saw me under-defended before she passed the ball to my ivory-colored cleat.

With a burst of energy, I surged forward, my dribbling allowed me to nutmeg Brann’s left back before my eyes met with the Brann goalkeeper who was dressed in yellow. If the ball goes past her, I score. 

As I tapped the ball to my left and prepared to unleash my shot, there was a sudden, ominous sensation—a faint "pop" that echoed in my knee. Time seemed to freeze as pain shot through my upper and lower leg. But even amidst the agony, I swung the same leg, sending the ball hurtling towards the goal. The ball grazed the goalkeeper's fingers before the ball hit the corner of the net. Goal! The crowd erupted in jubilation. 

My left foot settled back on the ground, but the nerves ripped up and down as the pressure felt unbearable. At first, I quickly lifted my leg as all of my teammates hugged and congratulated me. Then, my face scrunched up as the pain didn’t ease as I held my left leg up with my hands.

Ignoring the continued celebration around me by the crowd, some of the girls didn’t notice my pain and got back into position. However, my girlfriend and teammate, Esmee, stood in front of me with concern etched on her features. 

“Are you okay? What's wrong?” Esmee questioned me. A single tear poured out of my right eye as the pain was getting worse in my knee. Seconds later, my captain Alexia rushed to my side and made me sit on the grass. 

“It hurts.” I mumbled. 

“Niña, what happened with your leg?” Ale asked as my hands held onto my knee. Her hand rested on my right arm as she looked down at my knee. My teeth clenched together as the pain wasn’t subsiding after she made me sit. 

“It popped when I shot the ball.” I breathed out as I looked up at Esmee’s concerned face. The entire team looked upon the sight in shock and worry for me. Aitana and Ingrid walked forward to see what was wrong too.  

As curiosity and pain shot across my face, I knew what might've happened. The voice in the back of my head fought with me as I sat in denial, clenching my teeth to distract myself from my knee.

“The medic is coming. Breathe!” Esmee said as she allowed me to hold onto her soft, moisturized hand. My hand squeezed hers tightly, but I don’t think she minded since her other hand held onto my shoulder. 

Jona, my coach, runs over beside two medics with a shocked look. Alexia looks at the coach with a frown. A “I hope this isn’t what I think it is” look. 

Esmee's voice was a steady anchor for me. I can’t recall the last time I've been injured this badly. In fact, I don’t think I have been injured. 

“Schatje, everything will be okay.” Esmee repeated a few times before she let me go. A few of the medic staff took a look at my knee. One of them touched it which sent a shockwave of pain up my thigh. I could barely move it without feeling like my leg was burning. 

Later on, I found out that we won the quarter-finals of the Champions League. Jona visited me and told me that it was a struggle though, since the team was deeply affected by my injury. However, I couldn’t participate further in what would’ve been my second champion’s league semi-final. I tore my ACL when I shot that ball into the goal. My worst fear as a footballer came to life. The medical staff told me that I'll be out of football for eight to ten months which sent me into a breakdown. 

As I laid in my hospital bed, my teared gaze locked with Esmee's. She hugged me the entire time as my tears wouldn’t stop flowing. 

She has faith in me. Esmee promised that she will help with my chores around the apartment, since we live together. 

“You don’t have to take the extra mile, I can still-” 

“No! You need to recover from this. I can’t allow you to do things that will push your recovery time back.” Esmee’s Dutch accent made her point much clearer. 

“Esmee, I don’t want to burden you with my problems. You’re my girlfriend, not my caretaker.” I giggled as I wiped my nose from the constant crying.

 

“But as your girlfriend, I am supposed to care for you when things like this happen. I know you’d care for me like this if it were the other way around.” Esmee said. 

“That's true.” I mumbled with a smile on my face. The first time I've smiled in hours. She is right.

“The team will be here for you as well. Alexia, Ingrid, Frido, Aitana, and Mapi promised you that they’ll help you out whenever you need it. You have the best medical and recovery team in Spain to help you out too. Your recovery will go smoother since you have all of us and the best resources.” Esmee scratched the back of my hair as I continued to hold onto her waist in the hospital bed. 

“What if the recovery process takes longer than expected?” I expressed my doubts. That was my biggest fear when it came down to recovery. I wanted to get back as soon as possible, safely though of course. 

“You’ll be back soon y/n. Take this time to rest. You know what you tell me sometimes too– things happen for a reason and things take time.” Esmee quotes a phrase I’ve said to her before in a time of comfort. I breathed out a laugh as my arms held onto her.

“I know– Now I'll miss out on the Olympics and the Champions League final which sucks.” I frowned. This summer I had a guaranteed spot on the Olympic roster with my (reader’s country) national team. However, that gold medal dream was flushed down the toilet for right now.

“Well, the Oranje aren’t playing in the Olympics either. We will have a lot more time together outside of football.” Esmee said. I nodded my head as I couldn’t wait for us to be together more, even though we shared an apartment.

My eyes were sleepy and Esmee noticed. I felt my mindset change into embarking on the journey of rehabilitation. I felt at ease knowing that Esmee and my team would be by my side. I will overcome any obstacle that is laid in my path. Esmee continued to play with my hair longer but her fingers slowed down as we closed our eyes while laying down in the bed at the Barcelona hospital, just hours before my surgery. 

<3

[vanillaboyfriend]

okay :3

UNRELATED: THEYRE GONNA FUCKING SHADER-IFY VANILLA MINECRAFT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[cravingpepsimax]

entirely unrelated to anything youve been posting but mabill is making me ill right now. nobody gets them like i do. especially like. dark mabill. like everyone’s seen those “oOoOo what if ford was secretly actually working with bill” aus. let mabel be evil. mabel deserves to be a fucked up monster taking over the world with an evil triangle demon boyfriend. she’s had so many flop romances if she’s gotta be a little bit evil for this one to not be a flop then she gets to be a little bit evil. as a treat.

GOATED GOATED GOATED

considering mabel (unknowingly!) already did that in canon... like. ok all i'm saying is it'd be funny if she was in mabelland, was left there for long enough for her to find out, and was like "damn!!! he could do that? i'm in" JFDSKLJFKLS

i think at first mabel would come in with good intentions -- bill's lamented mabel being so much like him and yet not being evil enough, the other way around could happen, too! mabel's got a big heart and i could totally see her looking at bill and going "i can fix him" JSDKLFJSL

i'm not super into mabill but it is fun imagining their dynamic, romantic or not. i think their dynamic would involve a LOT of projection on both sides. mabel's chaotic and hedonistic with a bit of a selfishness streak and bill's going "SHE'S JUST LIKE ME FR" while bill's fun-loving and loud and also happens to spoil her so mabel's going "he's just like me fr!!". truly the ultimate "i can fix him/i can make her worse" dynamic.

tho i do think bill would eventually realize mabel's redemption plan but at this point, he likes her, and it's wayyy better for her to not try to defeat him (he does NOT want that zodiac to work EVER) so he'd totally play into it while also slowly corrupting her. telling her about his backstory the same way he did w ford. mabel's a very fantastical person so she'd totally be like "omg........................... tragic backstory reveal......... redemption arc is a GO" meanwhile their interactions are like

bill: HEY THERE SHOOTING STAR WANT ME TO MAKE THIS UNICORN NOT A TOTALLY BORING WAD mabel: i dunno... isn't making someone they're not kinda bad? bill: YEAH BUT NOBODY ELSE WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS UNICORN BEING BAD IT'S A NET POSITIVE mabel: hm.. you're right! go for it bill, zapping that unicorn and giving them an entirely different personality and making them submit to his will: SEE? THIS IS WHY I LIKE YOU! YOU GET IT mabel: :D

just. constantly playing into mabel's selfishness and how she treats things like fiction to make her into a worse and worse person while she lets it happen because she still thinks of herself as Doing Good because she is Redeeming Bill and that's better than destroying him, right??? (at first it's in an abstract sense but she legitimately starts to like/love him so it becomes personal)

peak as hell. do you think she'd draw him like those tumblr sexyman designs? discuss.

[no-higher-thought]

said you wanted to talk about 2bhank on your last post... well i'm all ears.

oo Wait fr ??

Oh my goodness gracious youve no idea what you just released anon FUCK you for making me write all this down /lh

Very unorganised thoughts cause i had like 12 pages worth of ramblings in my notes and had to cut it down. It was borderline just nonsense, man. Im losing it. Sorry if words don't make sense.

First off, they can and have hurt eachother. Hard not to, in a world as fucked up as theirs. Hank is someone who only knows violence, and doc is far too used to manipulating people and circumstances to gain the upper hand. In combat, in business deals, sieges, all that jazz.

But honestly, considering everything ? Their relationship is definitely among the healthiest, most stable in all of Nevada. Mostly cause the bar is all the way in The Nowhere but. y'know.

Both see it as VERY transactional, which, i mean. It is, first and foremost, a business deal so like. Fair i suppose. Hank is very good at their job of killing, and doc is very good at pointing them at nice targets. A sort of  "ah shit they didn't slam the door this time guess i gotta be extra careful pulling all the shrapnel out of their abdominal cavity."

There was never any moment one could consider "feelings realization" or whatever. They're simply incredibly close as a result of just how LONG they've worked together. Neither is particularly keen on asking somethn like "what are we to eachother?" Because it just. Doesn't. Matter to them.

That and like. I am very aroace. Hank is canon aroace. Saw doc fanart with ace ring once and have been rotating it in my brain since. Big fan of non-traditional relationships, man.

It's mostly convenience, methinks. Hank may not need doc to bring them back to life, but it sure does make the process a lot shorter and less painful. Doc doesn't need hank, he has plenty of money and access to many of Nevada's most feared mercenaries. He could find someone else to do his dirty work, if need be.

And yet.

Every moment they spend together is a moment of putting their life in the other's hands. Hank trusts him not to staple their legs on backwards, and doc trusts them to not dome him the moment he turns around. Don't get me wrong, it's not trust in the other, no. It's trusting that the other isn't dumb enough to get rid of a valuable asset.

But frankly, to someone used to nothing but pain and violence, a simple lack of it might as well be a loving embrace.

Theirs is a relationship built off of many years of contracts, of shared goals, of depending on eachother, expecting the other to catch them when they fall. When they crawl back battered and bloodied. When they pass out from overworking in front of their computer for the upteenth time this week.

They'd share a bed simply because both have horrific waking nightmares and huddling together on a shitty moldy mattress helps. A net positive, mutualism. They might seek some affection from the other, but its always self-serving.

Still. Neither of them are sentimental. If the machine took them on different paths, or hell, if they had to kill the other (for one reason or another), i don't think either of them would mourn.

Simply fill their time with the next mission at hand.

Doc could kill hank. They've been under his knife often enough. It wouldn't stick, sure, but he's very much capable of sending them back to the Other place, at least once.

Hank could absolutely kill doc. There's very little stopping them. All it would take is a single hand around his neck and one good squeeze.

But they don't.

They don't, and neither does he. Because at the end of the day, both of them benefit more when the other is alive.

Mutualism.

... Anyways uh hank is a cuddler. With how fucked up their nerves must be, i bet most of their sense of touch is straight up just pain. Which would be be a bigger deal, except. Doc has access to heavy-duty painkillers. How can you not, in some odd way, love the guy that makes the pain go away, even for a bit ?

[junglejim4322]

Fr tumblr has always been a net positive for me I’ve met some of the most amazing people I’ve ever encountered and talked about things I thought I’d never find another person who could relate to and it’s also really nice on hard days to be able to sign on and immediately be reminded there’s thousands of people who think I’m funny and charismatic like it’s hard to go into “every1 on earth hates me” mode with that actual proof facts and logic etc. I love u guys

[discoblocks]

listening to tubbo talk abt it right now LITERALLY FORGOT THIS MEANS HE’LL ALSO INTERACT W THE EGGS

Genuinely so excited for Tubbo on qsmp, literally so many reasons I can’t even begin to list them all, but number one being he is going to go absolutely off the wall doing crazy create mod shit with tazercraft

[bahbahhh]

begin again

a lot of change happens in between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. let’s fill in the gaps. zelda pov | zelink | totk spoilers | multichapter| rated T zelinkweek2023 | @zelinkcommunity [story index] [also read on ao3 ]

Again, I can't thank @zeldaelmo enough. It has been an absolute honor to have your eye and your ear! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

chapter 7

for zelink week "free day"

Her cot is gone. 

Zelda stares at the empty spot on the second floor of Purah’s Lab, adventure pouch dangling on the very tips of her fingers. She caught it just before it dropped onto the floor. She had meant to deposit onto the cot, eager to relieve the extra tension from her tired shoulders when she noticed it was missing at the last second.  

She narrows her eyes and glances about the room, everything ordinary and untouched, save for her trunk of belongings, which is also missing. She frowns at this, having wanted to spend her free time reviewing Tauro’s research notes again. In addition to possibly connecting the Thyphlo Ruins to the Zonai, he recently presented evidence that the Labyrinths in Akkala, Hebra and the Gerudo Desert are Zonai as well and hypothesized that the Zonai maintained a presence in the sky and below the ground.  

Something about the Zonai has caught her attention, a tug on a line from the depths of the past. Sure, it could just be her energy shifting from one technologically advanced civilization to the next, but whereas the Sheikah Technology felt more like an escape, the Zonai and their ruins feel like a calling. 

Who knows. The fact of the matter is, right now, it's all missing with the rest of her things. 

Recently, Purah has been reorganizing parts of her laboratory at random. She claims it’s another bizarre side effect of her re-aging. Symin thinks it's the result of being held responsible for cleaning up after herself. 

Zelda sighs and back peddles to the stairs, pulling the strap back over her shoulder.

“Purah?” 

Zelda descends into the main floor and nearly trips over a box of scrolls. Dozens more clutter the space; filled with papers and construction parts and other miscellaneous items. Zelda spots fishing nets, a dozen yellow paper lanterns, and massive coils of hollow wire, but her belongings and the Sheikah Director are nowhere to be found. Link isn’t here, either. Not that she was expecting him, he told her early in the day he would be with the Hateno monster defense team, helping to clear out a hoard of bokoblins that moved into the Milda Woods to the west of the village. Since he’s teaching them how to properly handle the monsters and safeguard the woods with traps more efficiently, he estimated it would take a while. 

She, on the other hand, spent the majority of the day helping a man Bolson with the final touches at the school. Zelda originally commissioned Hudson to help her build out Hateno School, but he wrote back with the recommendation his former boss be the one to handle it as he was responsible for the revitalization of Hateno following Calamity Ganon’s attack. 

There is something to be said about starting something and being able to see it through, you know? Hudson had written. 

Zelda formally nominated him for a position of leadership in New Hyrule the same day. 

Bolson showed her how to put together the small chairs, explaining where to put the nails to create a lasting, sturdy joint. He also taught her how to hold the nails to minimize the risk to her fingers under the glare of a hammer. When they were done, he shook the sawdust out of his thick fur collar, kissed her on the cheek, and handed her the blueprints so she could put together more in the future. She’s got a few splinters she’ll need to dig out of her fingers, but they come with a sense of accomplishment and hope she hasn’t known in over a century. 

Zelda peers into the kitchen. “Symin? Purah? Hello?” 

The lab is completely empty. She crosses the room, pushes the door open, and steps back out into the fresh air. The village of Hateno is always busy in the afternoon. Today, there is a nice breeze turning the giant windmill blades lazily. There has been recent talk about updating the village face, specifically the market front to entice more travelers. There is a rumor that a new business owner, a fashion designer, has proposed integrating mushrooms into the architecture.

Zelda wonders if the windmills will stay.

She has a few books at Link’s place, so she decides to head that way while she looks for Purah. She’s almost immediately stopped by a group of children, the same she will be teaching once the school is open. One of the children asks about the first day of school and another formally requests - please, oh pretty please, Miss Zelda! - they have a designated time every day for coloring. Zelda sends them on their way, slips into Kochi Dye Shop, and asks if Sayge can donate some dye for her to make courser beeswax crayons. 

“Basic colors, okay? Or, I could experiment and come up with an extensive palette for you, if you like?” Sayge says, filling up five small vials with concentrated ink. 

“I think this is a great start, thank you so much. Perhaps you would be interested in presenting to the class in the future? I wo—”

“Say no more! An opportunity to share the traditional craft of Hateno dyeing with the younger generation? It would be my honor! ‘We live–”

“To dye!’” Zelda smiles and takes the vials. “I’m writing out a curriculum with Symin. I’ll let you know when it makes sense to have you come in.”

“Splendid! Oh, and–” He looks over her shoulder and she knows he’s searching for Link. Sayge continues in a hushed voice. “About that order we discussed. I’ve almost landed on the correct shade of blue. Should be able to replicate the tunic exactly. I do have additional armor I’d recommend to go with the piece, in order to protect it from wear and tear moving forward. How do you feel about leather?”

“If it will offer protection without restricting mobility, I think that’s great.”

“Come by in a week or so. I’ll send Link on an errand and then I’ll show you what I’m thinking.” He winks at her.

Zelda tucks the ink away carefully and smiles. “Perfect.”

Pruce waves her down as she passes the East Wind. He anxiously invites her into his shop, shuts the door to prospective customers, and immediately asks for her thoughts on phasing out the bomb arrows. Apparently, he had been threatened with a fee by Reede for improper dangerous weapon storage. Zelda can tell he’s offended and embarrassed, having previously displayed the explosive arrows in a straw basket for anyone, including a curious child, to handle. She gently reframes this as an opportunity to be a model business owner and that seems easier for him to stomach. He donates his entire stock of arrows to her for Link and the monster defense efforts. Luckily, she has a quiver in her adventure pouch that she pulls out and attaches to her belt so she can carry them safely. 

Prima catches her just outside the shop and enthusiastically introduces Zelda to her fiance, Worten. They’ve met, many times, and Zelda was made aware, multiple times by Prima, of the engagement, and still she smiles and waits for Prima to finish telling the story of how he proposed. 

She makes it a few more steps before a Zora warrior stops her. There has been more traffic from the Zora through the village in recent weeks, a source of massive curiosity with the children (and most of the adults, too) who had never seen the “fish people” from the north, except for during the Restoration Summit almost two years ago. They come up from the Necluda Sea from Hateno Bay, restocking supplies, sending messages back to their Domain via courier. Divine Beast Ruta was put to rest in the deep waters of the ocean, an arrangement struck with the settlement of Zora that call the seas home. Apparently, Prince Sidon had been hidden away there for protection for a time during his youth after Calamity Ganon’s siege and Mipha’s death. He formed a strong bond with the Princess there. 

The Zora shares, rather cryptically, to be on the lookout for “exciting” news from Zora’s Domain, regarding Prince Sidon. There have been rumors of leadership following in Impa’s footsteps, whispers of the great Zora King finally stepping down from the throne. The Rito are already turning feathers. Most recently, Zelda heard Teba was the popular choice to ascend. 

She parts ways with the Zora, who heads back in the direction of the bay, and picks up her pace to convey urgency. Not that she minds the interaction, she sees all the hands reaching for her now, and finds great purpose in the quiet ways she can nurture Hateno Village especially, but sometimes it takes her an hour, like today, just to walk from one side of the village to the next. And now that Purah has seen fit to move all her things without much consideration to the very specific order to her chaos or the possessiveness of what little Zelda has to her name, her cot feels more impermanent and insecure than ever. 

If only she had a hidden place, like her study in the tower, where she could keep her things and be with her thoughts in peace without worry of interruption…

She spots Link’s house on the hill.  Zelda glances to the west, at the empty spot in the horizon atop Marblod Plain where the Hateno Sheikah Tower once stood. When the shrines were finally all gone, they realized the blue flames inside the towers and the furnaces were dying off. Without power, the towers began to crumble in on themselves, leaving a pile of rubble and dust that will be dealt with in time. Purah intends to go through what remains to see if anything can be repurposed for the new towers, but by the looks of her laboratory, the design is better suited with materials that are new and synced to her Purah Pad. The skeletons of the Sheikah furnaces will be tossed off the cliffs and into their respective surrounding sea by the Sheikah this summer.

Like pyre ash. 

She’s so distracted by the finality of it all and the comfort she feels that she almost runs into him.

“I’m sorry!” Zelda exclaims, and then upon recognizing who it is, grabs Link by the shoulders to steady herself. He laughs, a sound more frequent and unburdened since the Great Plateau, and steps into her, threading a hand up into her hair at the base of her neck.

He kisses her until she’s dizzy. 

She’s not sure she’ll ever get used to this, or if she even wants to. The luxury of this closeness, the casualness with which he always seems to reach for her, like it’s always been the easiest, most obvious thing in the world for him to do. 

“Hi,” she says when he finally pulls back. His eyes linger in a hungry way on her mouth, long enough to twist her stomach pleasantly.

“Hi.”

“I thought you’d still be gone? Did you clear all the monsters already?”

He tucks her hair behind her ears. “I lied.”

Zelda blinks. “You lied?”

He nods, looking a little smug.

“What do you mean, you lied?”

He steps back enough to sign. ‘I wasn’t taking care of monsters in the woods today. That’s tomorrow. Are those for me?’ Link slides his hand down the length of her side to her hip where the quiver full of bomb arrows sits. She shivers.

“The arrows? No–well, I suppose yes. I finally convinced Pruce to remove them from his store front. Bit of an odd and hazardous mix, you know, wheat, eggs, goat butter, explosive arrows. I suppose you can have them for the monster defense…which you said now is tomorrow?”

‘Always has been.’ He turns and starts walking them up to his house. Zelda follows him curiously, still a little too giddy from the kiss to be cross with him.  

“Why lie about that?”

‘Didn’t want to spoil the surprise.’

“Surprise?”

Link pulls out a key from his pocket and unlocks the door. His house has been almost completely gutted. The weapon mounts are gone, a few empty picture frames hanging from the nails in the wall. The furniture has been cleared out, the table empty. He’s added a stove. She can see a few boxes under the stairs, perhaps where all of his things are tucked away or the restart of provisions storage for next winter.

“You lied so you could clean out your house?” She furrows her brow at him.

“Your house.”

“W-what?”

“It’s your house. Here.” He leads her around the space and then up the stairs. The bed is there, tucked in the far wall, still under the lone window for natural light, and guarded by painted vase on the nightstand with a single flower- a daffodil - to watch over her.  She’s a little surprised it’s not a Silent Princess or another blue nightshade, but it's the first of the flowers to bloom after winter. A symbol of new beginnings.

“Purah’s going to forward all your correspondence until word gets around. I already wrote to Tauro and let him know he can send the next batch of his research here. Riju, too. You can keep the furniture or swap it out for something different. Bolson offered to help redesign the interior. Whatever you like.”

Zelda stands shell-shocked in the center of the loft. There is a desk to her left. She can smell the freshness of the cedar. He built it for her. Across the top, her research notes and books in the same chaotic order they were kept in on the cot at Purah’s. Her trunk sits ready at the end of the bed. 

“It’s really mine?”

“Your home,” he says plainly. Like he’s giving her a cube of sugar for her tea. “I’ll leave you to it. Probably should survey the bokoblin camp before the team head’s out tomorrow. Make sure a Moblin hasn’t joined them.” 

She feels him starting to move, but she can’t take her eyes off the bed. It's more vast than any cot she’s ever known, even with its twin frame, with four sturdy posts and modest pillow; there is enough room for two people to lay side by side comfortably, so long as they fit together. 

Is having a bed what makes you feel rooted to a place? Is it the memorization of cracks in the ceiling to count when you're tired, or having someone who helps you heal the cracks buried deep inside you? Is it a kitchen to escape to in the middle of the night for a slice of fruitcake or a bowl of meat and rice, or having someone who knows how to make it just for you? Is home just having the people you love simply love you back? 

She glances from the bed to the flower to Link and her heart leaps into her throat.

Zelda doesn’t feel any guilt this time, none at all, when she reaches for his hand and tells him:

“Stay.” 

[untitled-god-song]

yall know abt that post thats like litmus test of someones kindness is if they put the grocery cart back in the little return thingy before leaving bc it is net 0 on anything positive in ur life but it makes someone elses life easier?

that but with turn signals,,, it signals to other drivers but doesnt really affect you, but it does bc if other drivers are aware they are less likely to run into you if they kniw where you are trying to go, so id say that not using a turn signal would make you an even bigger asshole bc ur benefitting both urself and other drivers

i genuinely dont understand people who dont use turn signals when they drive driving is so so so incredibly dangerous which is like largely overlooked by most people but also like the majority of people i know also do not like use their turn signal? to me this is crazy bc the turn signal is vital when communicating to other drivers,,, ur putting ur own comfort (of not having to lift ur arm a little to turn on ur turn signal) over the safety of yourself and also the other people on the road.

i know the solution is just take the humans out of driving with public transportation (shoutout trains and buses yall r the goats fr) but that change isnt gonna happen in just a day or two so it would be sick if people could make driving a little safer by being considerate and communicating to the other people on the road, espcially since we r all piloting 2 ton vehicles

[happylittleshrub]

Imagine rocket cloning himself enough to form that boyband and for the heist and to make all his dream weapons at the same time.

The existence of more Rockets is a net positive in my humble opinion!

(especially the boy band. I'd stan them. Ult biases fr)

[heatwa-ves]

Unemployment is gonna go down because job searching makes people kill themselves. it's a net positive really for the government because there's less unemployed people that is to say bye guys I'm kms fr over this