#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

[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

[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 ?

[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

[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

[innocent-cat]

Bbg, can you do a Jealous Tsukishima x Reader plzzz? Ily bbg /p

Never watched Haikyuu in my life. Read up on him, so be warned, i will NOT have the most accurate character of him down in this oneshot. So, with the fact that my knowledge of Tsukishima and Haikyuu are very frail, please excuse any errors, or poor use of character's behavior, or general plot. Making this js for u babes fr xx (lyt)

(I also have no clue how volleyball works. LOSER!!!!)

Jealous!Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Warnings - Reader calling someone a 'whore', uncomfortable advancements/situations, harassment to reader, entitled man,

"My loser is the best loser.", Tsukishima x Reader

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

Your boyfriend of a few months, was currently playing volleyball for your collective high school, Karasuno. You didn't quite understand why it was so tense on the court, but you chose to cheer him on regardless whenever he had a game.

Being known as the person who just happens to be dating Tsuki, his team mates often poke fun at him to you. It's funny most of the time, but it gets weird having a group of people try to follow you around because you're dating their friend. Although, if he's not with you, hes with them, so you always know where to look when in doubt. How kind of them. To what you knew, he one of the blockers of the team. He told you often about how much his team needs him. You, of course, feed into this energy.

"Yeahh go get em' tiger.. you're so important!"

He always cracks a smile at your strange form of cheering, and appreciates it. Although he found it strange, he felt he should play better for you. Weird right? Trying to impress lil' ol' you.. Tonight was a night unlike any other game night, he was within his position and supporting his team with planned blocks. You couldn't tell which team was winning, but you tried your best to stay positive about it. which- meant- very, VERY, incomprehensible cheering. Mumbling, shouting, or just smiling, in hopes of some how, you sent the right message. "Ohh wow nice shot.."

You sounded a lot like a mother cheering for her kid. It was definitely working. (You hoped.)

Growing tired and confused, you eventually space out and leave yourself to your own thoughts. You have no clue whats going on, so you just imagine what ever you feel like. A cow spinning? A rockstar chicken? Your doll who you had left in time out before you left for falling and scaring you? Okay maybe not them. You felt bad for not returning them to the window you pretended they liked so much before you left. Oh no. What if it's lonely? It's probably lonely. Cold, shut out, shunned.. SHAMED, in time out.. Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel the weight beside you shift. Assuming it was Tsukishima, you turned to the weight with a smile, before jumping at the realization it wasn't your monotone'd boyfriend. "Hey! Couldn't help but notice you were sitting here all alone and sad looking.. Don't worry, I'm here to accompany you now. totally like a prince in shiny armor." Baffled, you stare at the teen who had approached you and sat next to you so confidently. You had to admit, you were impressed with how he wasn't embarrassed. You did think he was weird though. "Oh. Thanks?" You shrugged off his enthusiasm and tried to be as nice as you could force yourself to be. Tolerating him was already hard enough now that you're tired, confused, and bewildered at the sudden company. "Do you even really get this sport? You've been totally out of here the entire game." He poked at you. Confused, you look him up and down, taking in his description to ask Tsukishima about him later. What a weirdo. "Yea. My boyfriend is the nerdy blocker up there with the real thick rimmed glasses." You pointed him out, smiling softly. When the teen beside you noticed him, you let your finger fall, and your hands link back together in your lap. Within that moment, The ball quickly advanced to the front of the enemy's net, and they spiked it. Tsukishima tried to block it but- It smacked him. Square in the face. You stifled a small laugh as you watched the now stunned blocker look around hoping for someone to sympathize with him. He looks towards you like a child telling a parent they had just thrown up. Your face breaks out into a wide, humorous smile. His stance, his face, and his slightly pushed down glasses, all was a likely embarrassing moment for him, but all the funnier to you.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you snicker and giggle as you look back at the shocked volleyball player. You watch his eyes travel to the left of you, where the teen who started small talk sat beside you. His eyebrow raised, and obviously smacked back into reality with envy, he scowls at the boy beside you. From far away, you don't notice the facial change he shows.

The whistle blows, and the game starts anew. He turns back, and your small interaction comes to an end. He fixes his glasses, pushing the rim back onto the tip of his nose ridge, and gets back into his position. "Soo.. your boyfriend.. kinda sucks. At volleyball, I mean." The slightly taller boy curts, referring to the fact your boyfriend just got totally bodied by a ball. That probably hurt. A lot. You giggle. "Not all the time, but I also can't tell. I just kinda hope." "You know.. I play baseball.. It's a lot easier to understand than any game of volleyball. Lot cooler too. Lot cooler to date a baseball player over a beach game made professional player." You pause, face contorting at his words. What a man whore. Flirting with someone when he's aware they have a boyfriend? Steep. Real steep. Also, again, really weird. You look towards the boy, raise an eyebrow, and wait for him to lead on what he was saying. You wanted to see how long he'd drag his little 'You should totally ditch your lame, geeky, loser of a boyfriend because I play baseball.' game. Waiting for a response, you decide he's taking too long to click that you want him to talk back. You collect your things to stand, and like a mutt begging you to stay, he grabs your wrist. "Wow wow wow- Where you going there? You haven't even heard me out!"

"What is there to hear out? you're asking me to out right ditch my boyfriend because you play baseball and I don't even know your name." You scoffed, ready to make another statement before he tugs you back down, however, this time, instead of on a bench, he tugs you onto his lap.

"Would you- Get off of me?" You seethed, struggling against his arms, he snakes himself around your waist and under your popliteal (A/N, the popliteal is basically your knee armpit). Oblivious to the bell of the game ending, you keep fighting against him, clambering, and caught up like a spider's web. You hear the distant sound of shoes squeaking against the polished gym floors, advancing towards you, with the speed of just over a power walk. Looking over to the approaching sound, you look directly at none other than who is likely about to be your actual knight in shining armor. It did bug you how the guy got the saying wrong. Again, what a weirdo. "Do you mind? Did you always get your way as a kid or something? Put them down. You look genuinely pathetic." Tsukishima looks down at the odd teenager, towering above him. "Oh- is this- your boyfriend? Why didn't you tell me yo-" He's cut off with an uppercut from your now loose hand, to his jaw. Releasing you, he rubs his jaw, muttering curses and how 'you were ugly anyway' and 'You're lucky I even looked at you' Grabbing your bag, Tsukishima kicks him in the side, watching the man curl over clutching his side like a defeated pill bug. Scoffing, you turn to Tsukishima who is still shooting a lour face at the frustratingly idiotic oaf. Patting his shoulder, you guide yourself off the benches, hovering over railing as to not trip. You notice the lack of his presence, and turn to see he's still cursing at the man, scolding, and kneeling, like a parent to a child who broke a VERY expensive vase. "Tsuki. C'mon. We most literally don't have all day. Don't bother with him, he's just some moron. Getting under your skin lets him win." He gives the man one more apparently satisfying kick, before turning to accompany you. You follow him to the lockers, waiting outside to respect the team's privacy. After around 10 minutes of clicking and texting friends on your phone, you see a four eyed monster walk out of the lockers. Black hoodie, a brown flannel, and tan cargos. "No hello? Not even from the love of my life?" You call towards him, walking by him, and poking the side of his ribcage waiting for a response. "Right right, whatever. Hey." He smiled softly at you, his eyes telling a different story. "You okay? something up?" You interrogate, snaking your arm around his, and fitting hands like a puzzle piece. He huffs, thumb rubbing the back of your hand, continuing to walk, watching the stars. He walked you back to your apartment, every day after school and after games. If you recall, it was 'Something he just has to do for you', and ever since he's always done it. Even when either of you were upset at each other. You looked up at the stars with him, breathing in the cool, clean, night air. As you guys paced, you tripped. He tightened his hold on you, and pulled you back up. 'Thanks.' You muttered, unsure of what to say in the rough and awkward environment. "That guy. Who was flirting with you? That really bothered me during the game. I think I was too focused on you ditching me for him that I lost focus." There was a short pause, in between it you let out an understanding hum, and rubbed circles into the back of his hand via thumb. "..Did you.. say anything? To him?" He looks to the right, avoiding your gaze, seemingly embarrassed to even ask. "Yeah. First thing I said to him other than 'oh' was that you were my boyfriend. Real weird guy. Really weird looking guy too. Jaw too chiseled, too built, and I never even talked to him before. Don't even know the guys name." Tsuikishima let out a sigh of relief, tensity visually leaving his muscles. "I knew that." The two of you both laughed, enjoying the clear environment now comfortable to breathe in again.

"Uhm. Did you win?" You sheepishly look towards him, smiling. "It was totally rigged. I was the best player there."

"Glorifying yourself again, Tsuki?" "Nah. I'm definitely a huge carry for the team." He restates, letting out a snicker after hearing your laugh, self aware of how much he relies on his team-mates.

(P.S, please leave more requests for me. I'm desperate for prompts.)

[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.” 

[oopsiedaisymae]

Your trademarks to ME:

🌼 this emoji of course!

Cas and Winter who I want to hold so tightly until Winter beats me off with a stick (I’m hanging on for dear life)

The BEST reaction images

Bucket reactions in particular

The only other collar x malice fan on this hellsite 😭😭

DROPPING THEIR ROSTER SERIES (which should be trademarked)

LEONAAAAA

And CATER

AND RIDDLE

Omg so many twst characters that you breathe life into

Getting me into twst and Ruggie (it’s ALLLLL YOUR FAULT - thank you)

I associate you with Jude so let us pray that his route is as filthy as his mouth so we can trademark Daisy x Jude

MEGGS MY BELOVED!!!

oh, god, where to i begin. what a pleasure it is to be known in such a way.

first of all, i adore being remembered for little quirks reserved for my personal friendships on discord-- the emoji i use for my name, ocs i've kept semi-private, my tendency to send reaction images of my cat when the time arises-- because it reminds me there's a net positive to sticking around tumblr. i have made some wonderful friends here. especially you.

as for my works and involvement in fandom... 🤭 what a way to be clocked! it's crazy that i started my writing blog for the sole purpose of trying to connect with the tiny collar x malice fandom. then i got into obey me (rip) then twst, ikevil, lads, and other assorted fandoms... and all of my favs that have lingered from each franchise. i will gladly be known as riddle stannie #47 or Boyfriend Ruggie Truther. being a jude or sasazuka fucker.... welp, that's the legacy i've created for myself 🫣 love me a problematic asshole LOL

and i'm glad you brought up the roster series, too. that's one of the first times i was receiving an influx of a lot of attention on my works, and in a way it's fundamentally changed my relationship with writing. i also started making friends here BECAUSE of the rising attention of that series. i think the writing is a little shaky now, but damn, what a fantastic way to connect with all the horny little goblins in the obey me fandom 🤭 you all have changed me fr

this got long. i'm rambling now. thank you for reminding me of the weight of being a person and how i've affected others around me 🫶 i'm smooching you like so much rn

[tapedsleeves]

What's your favourite position in hockey and who is your favourite on that position?

It would be soooo soooo easy for me to say Goalies. Because goalies are, in the broadest sense, the guys I like and connect to even on teams that I don't particularly like. If I don't know anyone else on the team, there's a good good chance I'll at least know the goalie.

but everyone likes goalies. And I do too! but are they my *favorite?* I don't think so.

And I could tell you the position of my favorite individual players - centers, mostly, or more generally just forwards. Because they're the second most prominent guys on the team, right?

Because Hockey is a game of oppositional forces. Guys trying to score (forwards) and guys trying to stop the puck (goalies). But there's also defensemen. Stoic, enigmatic. What do defensemen even do?

Make me love them, of course.

A bad defenseman is immediately noticeable. A great defenseman is immediately noticeable. A good to mediocre defenseman is - well. Not invisible, but he's just. A guy. A body on the ice to most people. What's he doing there? He must be doing something. And often they are.

That anonymity can go either way.

A bad goalie is going to get pulled, or their defensemen are going to protect him. A forward who can't score can be shored up by other forwards or defensemen.

Who helps defensemen? Other defensemen (and really really good forwards). Most forwards don't have the defensive skills, or the time, or both to help defensemen out all the time. And goalies have to stay in the net.

And so, because I'm bisexual, and because I like things that are sometimes bad and people don't like, and things that do the hard jobs even when it's not glamorous.... Defensemen are probably my favorite.

So - who's my favorite? I don't fuckin know bud. Your guess is as good as mine. It's just as inscrutable and up for debate as to what makes a good defenseman. Scoring? (Karlsson, Hughes, Makar) Blocked shots? (Martinez, McNabb) Skating? (Theodore, Hughes, Makar)

My answer to this is: it's a personality contest and I love Ben Hutton, Barbie Girl. He's a perfectly decent defenseman - in and out of VGK's line up as the 7th defenseman in a line up with 3 excellent d-pairs. Always smiling and good natured. A whole sleeve of tattoos. Birthday: 4/20. Doesn't like chocolate (he's just like me fr fr).

But IS Ben Hutton good? Yes, I say. Unequivocally. He's VGK's floating 7th d-man for a reason. Always ready to fill in, seamless when he's in. Just because he didn't work out in VAN doesn't make him bad. Just because he's not in the full-time line up doesn't make him bad. VGK's system works for him in the same way that it makes Hague and Whitecloud look great (they are), and McNabb and Theodore look even better.

My favorite players of that position would be Theodore, Hamilton, Chabot, Borgen - players all who i genuinely enjoy watching play hockey for hockey's sake.

[kraviolis]

This sort of question is probably a little controversial but I feel like I want to ask after seeing your response to some comments about Greg being a good dad and I kind of assume you also have the opinion the gems made some bad decisions with Steven.

If it was actually possible for Steven and Rose exist together could she have been this as bad as all parties involved perhaps worse? As a matter of fact, was her giving up her life really the "right" choice? Asking this because I got the impression from some people give off the implication that her being around would have made things worse and giving up her life was actually good since she was unable to change, which I don't know about that since I feel like there is a disagreement somewhere and then there's the whole point of her death being a tragedy and stuff.

i love you for asking me this. i love rose quartz. i will always talk about rose quartz. i am a rose defender until i DIE

i think rose would've been the same kind of parent as greg. overall pretty good, but would make a lot of mistakes that would affect steven's entire life going forward. but that's pretty much every parent who was traumatized by their own parents. i don't think she would do any worse or any better than greg & the gems as a parent.

ALSO. ANYONE WHO SAYS ROSE NEVER CHANGED IS AN IDIOT FR. DID YOU WATCH THE FUCKING SHOW?

honestly though rose being around for steven would be a net positive, in my opinion. just because she'd actually be able to EXPLAIN everything to steven. i have 0 doubt that rose would actually tell steven everything when he got older. greg himself said that rose tried to confess everything to him but he didn't care about her past.

like 50% of steven's trauma could've been avoided if rose had been around to just explain everything. if she was there and stepped up to the plate and bore that responsibility that everyone thinks she would've shyed from then i think it would've been better for everyone in the end than how it was in canon.

and rose WOULD. SHE WOULD!!! she loved steven more than fucking anything. you cannot tell me that she wouldn't do everything in her power to take any and all burdens from his shoulders. the song "love like you" is LITERALLY from rose's POV. she hated herself and she loved everyone else.

that's something people REALLY fail to grasp. rose fucking hated herself. not entirely consciously, maybe, but her death was literally a suicide. people can try to twist the narrative any which way but no one can say that she did not purposefully end her life because she thought the world would be better without her.

this probably is so messy and disorganized. im coming down from my adderall rn but im so passionate about rose quartz and love talking about how she wasn't perfect but she was a good fucking person and she's not the monster people make her out to be she just made mistakes and spent her whole life trying to atone for them and how steven followed in her footsteps in more ways than one

[1892]

totally understand the irritation w that matt guy especially with the gaza barbie thing good god, but I still think that his infographics can function as pretty effective propaganda for pushing liberals left, do you think there’s some value in that?

it's a complicated question right b.c you really could argue any type of posting at all for x cause could have a positive impression on someone, and a lot of people resonate with his posts and post them on their stories etc (the reason i'm subjected to him soo goddamn much). and i don't necessarily think everything he posts is bad even. sometimes the text of his posts is good and rational and good news, but people taking his words as fact 100% isssss iffy to me. follow democracynow or something you don't need to get your news on pastel blue/pink insta albums. like fr. but to your thought about it as successful propaganda, i do kind of agree to a point. i think his presence is not necessarily a net negative. however! i think there are other, better ways he could be doing it that would be MORE effective. ykwim? he exists in a bit of an echochamber from looking at his comments/the ppl who repost his stories. it's virtue signaling at its finest honestly like. guysss did you know i'm a good person

ie. i LOVED barbie (first slide) BUT what about gaza? (second slide) <- that progression in the same post kinda epitomizes my problem with him, right?

[koolkat9]

@bluudpop you have inspired me to expand on the human au with these tags though I diverge from them quite a bit...

GILBERT AND LUDWIG

Okay! Starting with Gil. Actually I don't think he's divorced or was ever married. He had Ludwig young like 16/17 either because he was pressured into sex by his girlfriend or because he was having a religious crisis and he had sex as a way to try to break free from the church.

Anyway, the girl ends up pregnant and her parents are not happy. Gil's dad (Germania) is also not happy, but he at least realizes that there is no changing this so he makes sure his son is involved through the pregnancy. The girl's parents are hard on her and as much as Gil tries to make his house a safe space for her, as soon as the baby is born, she dumps the baby on Gilbert and makes a run for it.

Luckily Gilbert has the support of his dad through it all. Until his dad suddenly passes away when Gilbert is 20 and little Ludwig is only 3/4. Gil no longer has that safety net. It's just him and Ludwig and now he's completely responsible for Ludwig's well being. Not to mention he's mourning his father who was that figure always there for him (Gil's mom died before he was 3).

Very lost and with a pile of money from his dad, he moves to a small town, opens up a mechanic shop. He finds out there is a parent support group at the recreation center and decides to go. It also has a daycare type thing while the parents talk so it would be good to get Ludwig socializing since that has been a struggle.

ARTHUR, ALFRED AND MATTHEW (AND FRANCIS)

I've been actually wait for an au where Fr//Uk divorces and Arthur is put the position of being the primary caregiver. Anyway, Arthur actually was married, but he's currently getting divorced from Francis. They had adopted the twins together, but it just added strain on their already strained relationship and they both knew that it was in the best interest of the kids that they separate. But it's hard on Arthur because he really loved Francis, they were together since highschool, spend college together. Now he's alone and he starts being the primary caregiver to the twins as Francis becomes more and more distant. Francis sees the kids yes, but they become more like an uncle/aunt.

One five year old child is a handful and two feels impossible. He's at least lucky Matthew is a well behaved child. Quiet, keeps to himself, has some issues with some of his clothing (sensitive to texture) and socially he seems to struggle, but otherwise never causes any fuss. Al on the other hand his bouncing off the walls, with a nose for trouble, consuming all of Arthur's time. Arthur is missing how Matthew is struggling and Matt feels kind of cast off to the side.

And Arthur is not doing mentally well. His mental health has rarely ever been good, but the divorce and parental stress has sent him spiraling. Oh. I just had a bad but juicy idea. Arthur having an issue with alcohol and gets blackout drunk with the twins around. Alastair catches wind of it and is absolutely pissed. But Dylan steps in, gives Arthur the ultimatum of getting help for his alcoholism or they'll take the kids. Of course Arthur chooses to get help (reluctantly, but still, those kids mean the world to him). Alastair doesn't trust him and basically moves in and helps him with the boys.

Dylan finds the parent support group and encourages Arthur to go. Arthur doesn't want to, but Dylan convinces him some way. And that's how Arthur ends up at the support group with Gil.

I want to add more parents but I don't know who...Feel free to suggest more parents because these are like the only two family units I have a lot of thoughts about.

I'll talk more about the kids in another post