#they explain what a mother is. they get it wrong but they explain it in their own words. no one else told them that definition

[reddtulips]

something something ghoap staying at johnny’s family farm that’s less than two hours away from glasgow.

they barely reach the damn place because simon insists on driving and takes a wrong exit on the highway and johnny has to piss a hundred times during the drive.

the air is crisp and cold and frosts the tips of their noses and simon forces indifference when johnny’s fingers brush simon’s to hold the duffel bag so he can close the trunk of the car.

johnny knocks on the front door and his mother rips it open, hugging his son and without a second to think, hugs simon as well and ushers them inside.

johnny’s father is a simple man and gives simon a firm handshake and a pat on his back and shows him the dining room, a feast set on the table and every salad under the sun overflowing in hand painted bowls that johnny’s mother made when she did pottery ten years ago.

johnny’s sisters are there, his niece and nephews as well, all children and simon sweats thinking how in the hell he is supposed to talk to them. are the boys at the appropriate age to know about guns and knives? or do they look at encyclopedias of greek mythology and dinosaurs? does the niece like barbie and dress up? or is she one of those girls that like to collect bugs and draw hopscotch on the pavement with colorful chalk and wipe the excess from her fingers onto her pants?

they watch him with eager eyes and giggles smothered behind tiny hands, and watch in awe when he lifts his balaclava to expose his mouth so he can eat.

johnny does the talking at the table and simon can’t understand a fucking word he’s saying because he’s gone full scottish with his family, only hums and nods occasionally. he wolfs down every piece of food, the human trashcan that he is (and because he doesn’t remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal), and nearly combusts for a second time that day as johnny’s mam places a plate with a thick slice of apple pie in front of him, vanilla ice cream melting over it and puts a hand on his shoulder, “johnny told me ye have a sweet tooth, so i made it especially for ye.”

simon who does silent breathing exercises so he doesn’t cry because he misses this so fucking much. to sit down with a family and enjoy a meal together with loved ones and not fight, nor scream nor yell nor cry nor throw food nor break plates and it’s just laughter upon laughter upon claps on the shoulders and clutching at arms and pulling each other into side hugs and light jabs that mean nothing and don’t break into full blown fights and simon thinks he’s going to vomit.

simon who gets to see johnny’s childhood bedroom. it’s decorated in superhero posters and hanging medals and trophies from gymnastics and competitive shooting competitions. johnny turns sheepish when simon points them out, teases him and likes and fears the swirl of warmth in his chest when johnny’s ears and neck turn red. he’s told “still a better shot than you,” and if johnny were anyone else, he’s be given toilet cleaning duties for the next three months.

simon who wants to pull out and empty every drawer, check every nook and cranny and learn and suck in every single piece of information and story there is about johnny and what — there’s pictures of you as a kid? with a mohawk? fuck off, soap, lemme see.

johnny opens the left door of his wardrobe and it’s covered in baby pictures of him and his family and simon’s chest tightens but he doesn’t break his gaze. Lo and behold, Johnny points out a picture on top and holy shit, it’s him holding a fat, orange cat the size of half his body and he’s sporting a long mohawk. His cheeks are stained with tears but there’s a forced grin on his face and blood on his chin. johnny explains it was his 7th birthday, he fell off a swing, hit his chin and his mam still wanted a photo. the cat’s named ‘fergus’ and he’s still alive and has lost most of the weight. he explains more photos but simon’s eyes keep coming back to the first one and he just wants to lean down and leave a gentle kiss on the scar covering johnny’s chin.

the kids don’t leave simon alone, as much as uncle johnny protests and tells them to get tae and let ‘em rest, he’s been drivin’ all mornin’ but watches them from the kitchen with a soft smile as simon walks around with the kids hanging and clutching at his strong arms like they’re monkeys and simon can’t get enough of their giggles and ooh’s and ahh’s when he tells them heroic and child-friendly war stories about their uncle. he also tells them that he sucks ass at taking orders and sharing his MREs and that they should listen to their parents and respect their elders and share with each other. johnny smothers a grin behind his hand as simon uses his lieutenant’s voice when speaking to the kids about these things.

johnny steals simon away then, “gotta show ‘em the horses”, and simon keeps his distance and doesn’t dare get up on one of them. the cockiest, “scared, Lt.?” with a shit-eating grin from johnny makes him grab the reigns and climb on. johnny leads the horse down the field and they fall into a comfortable silence. simon can’t get enough of the peace and quiet and chirping of birds and gentle yet chilly breeze on his hands and johnny is suddenly coming to a halt.

simon looks down at his sergeant, and his cheeks are flushed red and there’s determination and well-masked hesitation in his blue eyes and before simon knows it, he’s being pulled down by the sleeve of his jacket and johnny is cupping the sides of his face and pressing a gentle kiss over the material of simon’s mask. it’s innocent, quick, almost like it doesn’t even happen and isn’t registered. but their gazes meet when they part and it’s over for both of them because simon is fervently pushing his mask up and cupping johnny’s cheeks and they’re both leaning forward again and pressing kiss upon kiss upon kiss on each other’s lips and simon finally thinks,

i’ve found it. i’ve found home.

[strawberryblondebutch]

PWHL goalies ranked by how much they deserve a gun

Emerance Maschmeyer (OTT): That is a NEW MOTHER that you are OVERWORKING, what is WRONG with you people

Aerin Frankel (BOS): The original goalie who needs a gun. Probably thought she was getting a break this year

Gwyneth Philips (OTT): God's most pathetic wet cat is routinely getting bullied before her coloring (goalie mask) fully comes in, needs to start taking names

Emma Soderberg (BOS): Sorry I said all those mean things about you when you were in college and now you're experiencing the horrors

Raygan Kirk (TOR): I'm also sorry about all the mean things I said about you when you were in college and now they're feeding you to the wolves

Maddie Rooney (MIN): This is for holding USA Hockey at gunpoint until they explain why you aren't playing in the Rivalry Series

Kristen Campbell (TOR): Maybe she would have more shutouts if she had a little extra oomph in the crease idk it's worth a shot until Spooner gets back

Nicole Hensley (MIN): Exclusively for self-defense because if she gets hurt again it might be the end

Elaine Chuli (MTL): Girl's just here for a good time. She doesn't need a gun, but she can have one as a treat

Corinne Schroeder (NYS): Has no need for a gun. Gives an unfair advantage to the Sirens

Kayle Osborne (NYS): The only child in this list who is not routinely being bullied. Does not need a gun, needs more hugs

Ann-Renee Desbiens (MTL): Actively should NOT have a gun. Will fire warning shots to clear a path to center ice so she can try to score a goalie goal

[king571]

Screaming into the void of Tumblr again since a few brain dead posts slipped into my feed yesterday.

Caitlyn is not a domestic abuser for hitting Vi. Just like how Vi is not one for hitting Powder.

Given the context of this story and where these characters are at mentally, any professional would have explained that to you. Abusive relationships have clear patterns, but your minds are too focused on your own feelings and biases that you keep trying to demonize her character to justify your own hate. You refuse to see her as anything but a human being because of her background and status. Its amazing how you have a filter tag for who deserves basic empathy and understanding and who does not. Its honestly sad for you.

What is really happening in that scene is Caitlyn is completely overwhelmed by her emotions and is unbalanced. On top of all the trauma Jinx has put her through in season 1, she watched her mother die in front of her, and she is blaming herself. She is angry because she is devastated over her mom, but she hasnt been able to grieve healthily and properly. She is trying to stand tall and take the weight of the crown she has rejected her whole life. The memorial attack, where she can feel and honor her mom, gets violently attacked. And thats her tipping point.

She is desperately trying to hold on to the one person she cares for and trusts as support and thats Vi aka her mom's murderer's sister. It sounds absurd when you say it out loud. The moment she is stopped by Vi again, she feels a visceral sense of betrayal. The reasons do not matter for someone in that mental state at the time. It is simply wrong to expect humans to react rationally in these emotionally dense situations. She does not attack Vi or try to take control of her; she simply wants to leave. Then she freaking gets stopped and is compared to her mom's murderer. It doesnt matter that Vi has good intentions, that is the biggest insult and kick you can give her at that moment. She simply doesn't want to stay with her, to be held by her. And that's valid. She completely loses herself in her anger and responds physically by hitting her. It does not matter that it is the wrong thing to do because realistically, this is a very possible and expected human response. I seriously feel like I am trying to explain Psychology 101 to some people. Seperate your own feelings from the show for once and see the narrative.

And stop twisting the truth of this character. Stop mislabeling her and accusing her with definitions that do not fit her story to satisfy your own negative emotions.

If you were in Caitlyn's position, given these childish reactions I bet a lot of you would not have the control, consciousness, and moral backbone that she has in this story. She is literally one of the strongest characters in the show. Honestly, Jinx has always been my favorite character, but you all are turning me into a die hard Caitlyn defender around here.

[veryextraincorrectfegbaquotes]

Sad Shanna Lore won the poll so now I present to you the text that explains that one thing age said while beating Ain with a chair!

To say it all changed when he died would be inaccurate. Him dying had just further entrenched things. Shanna had already been feeling minimised, underestimated and babied. She was naturally meek, shy and soft-spoken, and on top of all that she was the youngest of four sisters. The only way to avoid being babied would be to run away, and Shanna would never have the guts to do that. Well, she'd have the guts, but not the lack of sense to try to strike out on her own in a small town. Could she get set up? Sure, there'd be folk nice enough to give her a place. Could she avoid her family? No way in hell.

What sealed her away as shouting on the inside only was when her father died. He'd been a poor father, to say the least, but being handed a divorce made him realise what he'd been taking for granted, and made him desperate to reconnect with his family. But Fiora, Farina and Tate had all chosen their stance, and it was that they wanted nothing more to do with him. But Shanna was too young and too kind to a fault to genuinely hate him. So he brought everything he had to reconnecting with her. Days out, short trips, everything he could manage. It was the happiest she'd been in ages, since he kept bringing her to new places where she could try her hand at things. Winning at carnival games, going on the biggest roller-coasters, sitting in the splash zone. They were her efforts, her choices, hers.

Then he died. It was a mundane thing, slipped at home, hit his head on the edge of a counter, nobody there to call for help, closed his eyes and never opened them again. For everyone in Shanna's family except her, it was a morbid convenience. A drawn out divorce involving a man they wanted nothing to do with was suddenly tidied up. They could wash his hands of him, and so they did. They assumed Shanna felt the same. Assumed she'd just been humouring him, meek little Shanna too shy to tell him no. They didn't go to his funeral. So no-one could take Shanna. They never even imagined she might want to go. Too sad an affair for someone as emotional as her, they reasoned.

Who could she talk to about this? Tell her family that the man they could never love again she'd learned to love? Not forgive, but still see value in? Someone to cry over in private? Someone all the photos of had been thrown out, except the few she had snagged and hidden? They hated him. She couldn't say they were wrong to hate him, he'd earned it. But she didn't hate him. She didn't hate anyone. She hated conflict. So she withdrew yet further, spending her time alone. Her dear sisters would only see her as their baby sister. Her mother would only see her as her baby girl. Did anybody see Her? Was it only when she looked in the mirror? Was it ever?

With no-one to talk to, nobody she felt she could be genuine with, and no desire to cause trouble, Shanna could do nothing. She could sit in her room, look at secret photos and write in secret diaries, while away hours reading scary stories and watching scary videos to remind her she was alive. Was she depressed? How could she tell? If she was, what would it matter? Who would she tell, what would she do. Stay quiet, stay out of the way, say Hi with a smile, do your chores and a bit extra to show you care, stay in your room so you don't spend more time than you have to feeling like your family is condescending you. One day into the next into the next, look out the window at night and wonder if anyone else feels like this, put your hand against the glass, hoping a bit of your warmth can reach them if they're out there, get a bit scared from staring out into the darkness. Night into day, day into night, what day is it? Doesn't matter. Nothing can keep earnest little Shanna down, she's anxious and scared but does her best! It's not wrong, but it's not everything.

Go on forums and never say anything. Go in chatrooms and don't type. It doesn't feel real, but what does? Day in, day out. Have I seen this video before? Are they all blending together? No matter, watch it again, it's not real anyway. Say Hi with a smile, do your chores and a bit extra to show you care, go to the town wall just to look out at the forest, imagine going there at night, it'd be so scary but so alive. Does the tree falling alone in the forest at least own the thud it makes? Ride your pegasus, imagine just flying in a direction and not stopping until you hit the ground. Where would you end up? Would the sky look different, there? Is emptiness less lonely than feeling like nobody sees you? Does any of it matter out there, with nobody else in sight or sound? Day in, day out.

Get dragged out of your room, told to make a friend. Push back, you're tired of always acquiescing, emptiness is comfortable now. Meet someone, she's different from you, but also seem to want to get away from everyone in the world for a while. You feel like there would be comfortable, but still not yours. She feels like she'd belong there, like a proud stone pillar, like Stonehenge. Maybe you could learn from her? Is this being friends? Being with her makes you happier, it'd been a while. She's protective, but not to a degree that makes you want to go somewhere else. She doesn't bar you from things, if you say you want to try she hangs back as you try. She's harsh, not as harsh as she is to others but still enough to make it feel like she knows you can handle it. Her name is Clarine. She's your best friend.

Day in, day out. Go spend the day with her, both of you want nothing else. Go out walking, go have picnics, go to her place that's small but being so close to her makes your heart flutter. Smile brightly, hurry through your chores but still doing a bit extra to show you care, almost skip out the door to see your friend, tell her stories about the things you do without her, she listens and questions, doesn't just pat your head and call you cute. Day in, day out, always something to look forward to. Look at the photos, wonder what it would've been like if they'd met. Only look at them though, not staring. Don't stay up late, lots to do tomorrow. Go on an adventure, do things that matter that only you are trusted to do. Everything has changed and it's all getting better. Still not time to tell her about the past, but it's not as important anymore.

[writersblockiskillingme]

I NEED GI HUN X F! READER PLEASEEEEEE

There’s barely anything for him:((

It can be literally anything but rn I’m craving comfort so maybe Gi Hun comforts his girl when she starts crying and she can’t really explain what’s wrong

Comfort | Seong Gi-hun x reader

Pairing: Seong Gi-hun x fem!reader

Summary: You knew that hunting down the salesman was going to be difficult, but after everything that you've been through in the games alongside Gi-hun, sometimes everything feels like it's going to suffocate you. Luckily, he's always there for you.

Warning/s: angst, hurt/comfort, a little fluff, short fic, just two traumatized people trying to heal each other, PTSP (talking about the games), death, tears, sadness, depressed atmosphere, cigarette addiction, cursing (?), mourning, guns, hunting down the salesman, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: So I finally got out of the writer's block, and I found some spare time, so I finally sat down to write. I gave it my best shot. I hope you like it! More to come.

Being his friend was easy. Being in love with him was even easier.

Once the games came around, everything became more complicated. I simply never thought that something like this was going to happen. Working in a job position that I did never brought me much money. Sure, it was enough to bring some food on my table and to cover the bills, but it wasn't anything big. However, once I found myself drowning in debt, I found myself in a horrific situation with no way out.

The money that I earned was not enough for respectable food, I couldn't pay my landlord for a few months, and I was a few weeks away from being kicked out on the streets. Not to mention the debt for which it seemed like I never paid enough to get out of. I thought moving back to Korea would somehow help me at least to escape the loan sharks and pay for necessary things, but I couldn't imagine how wrong I would be.

That's when I met him. The Salesman. Playing the ddakji with him for some money earned me some food for that night, but it also gave me an opportunity of a lifetime. It was an opportunity that I now know I would have never taken if I had known what was waiting for me out there once I called the number at the back of the card that he gave me.

Before the first game, I saw him. My old childhood friend Seong Gi-hun. Up until I saw him, I came to a realization about just how much I missed him.

Truth to be told, I have always felt something more than friendship for him ever since I was I kid. At first, I brushed it off, but when I entered my teenage years, I realized that I really loved him.

I had to move away when I was twenty years old. I haven't seen him ever since. I only heard a few snippets about his life during the years I spent away from Korea. I heard that he had a, now ex, wife, and a daughter.

It was his mother who called me. She used to watch over me sometimes when we were kids, and since I was her son's best friend back then, we kept in touch over the years. It was nice, to be honest. Up until the day that she called me for a regular check-up. I had just gotten off of work after a really bad day. I had just sat down by the kitchen counter when I heard my phone ringing. The entire time I was on a call with her, she sounded strange. Kind of nervous, maybe even a bit disappointed. After a while I couldn't take it anymore and when I asked her what was wrong she told me the joyful news.

"Gi-hun is getting married."

I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was suffocating. I somehow forced myself to finish the phone call, trying to sound as happy as I could, considering that the love of my life was marrying another. A few years later, he got a daughter, and I soon heard about the divorce. I tried calling him multiple times to check on him. He never answered.

We reconnected during the games. During the bloodshed. During the pain. During the tears. During the final game, where it was down to Sangwoo, him and I. After Sangwoo died, I knew I couldn't kill him. He couldn't either. After the stunt that we pulled, we survived. We were about to kill ourselves, we truly were, but then at the last second, just as the knife had scraped the surface of my neck, they announced two winners.

After that, I realized that I couldn't live without him. I didn't have a family, didn't have any friends. His mother died, and his daughter moved with her mother and stepfather to America he lost his family, too. We were everything to each other. We still are.

As the months, years, passed, we set ourselves on a mission of finding the salesman.

At first, we didn't touch the money covered with the invisible blood. We couldn't bring ourselves to do so, but when we realized that we may have a shot at taking down the games, we used the money only for that sole purpose.

The first thing we did was to pay off our debts. Then together we bought the love hotel called "Pink Motel" in Seoul. The sign outside was always tured off. We decided to buy it so we could live there and now we also use it as headquarters while tracking down the salesman. Which was always.

That was currently our only purpose in life right now.

After we figured out our plan, we started to work with the loan sharks that were chasing us because of our debts. We paid them to find the salesman, and they were searching relentlessly.

Our mental health hasn't been all that great either.

Both Gi-hun and I have developed a cigarette addiction. Sometimes all we did was breath in the intoxicating smoke instead of air. In a strange way it helped me breath. I wasn't so nervous anymore. My hands shook less.

Gi-hun has nightmares. Every single night. I have them, too, but not that frequently. He had a gun next to his nightstand. I had mine under the pillow. It brought a sense of comfort that was always short-lived.

The nightmares kept us up all night, and because of them, we couldn't find any rest even during the daytime. It was always the people we lost on that cured island. Sangwoo... Sae-byeok... Ali... The images of our friends dead never left my brain. And neither did Gi-hun's. Other times, we dreamt that we're still playing the games. Us dying. Each other dying. The Frotman. The salesman.

It was too much.

I was just monitoring the room where our most trusted men were practicing. I didn't realize when it had happened, but I fell asleep. I guess all those sleeping pills that Boss Kim gave to Gi-hun and me finally caught up to me.

I felt trapped. Gi-hun... he was dying in front of me during the squid game. I couldn't do anything about it. I held him, covered in his blood, crying, screaming, curing at the sky for the misfortune we had to live. Cursing the makers of the game. Cursing the Frontman. Cursing the pink guards that just stood there and did nothing. Cursing the world.

Hands.

They were shaking my shoulders.

My name.

It was uttered from the lips of the man that I would die for.

My eyes snapped open, meeting Gi-hun's worried ones. Once he realized that I was awake, his face visibly relaxed, relief washing over him as I heard him let out a sigh, his head and shoulders hung downwards.

"A nightmare again?" He asked me as he brought his hand up to my cheeks, whipping away the tears that I didn't know fell, but also wasn't surprised that they did.

"I-I can't-" I sobbed, unable to form a sentence as he quickly brought me in his arms, drowning me in his chest.

"Shhh..." He whispered as he ran his hand down my hair as I cried against his neck, drowning his black shirt with my tears, "I'm here. You're okay."

"Yo-You w-were-" I stuttered, tears streaming down my cheeks, "You were dying, and I-I couldn't s-save y-you."

For a moment, there was just quiet in the room. Neither spoke. The only thing breaking the silence of our bedroom were my cries.

"Do you know why I never answered your phone calls after you found out about the divorce?" He asked me, his voice low, but soft with comfort. His sudden question about that topic surprising me a bit, "Do you know why my mother told you about it instead of me? The wedding, the divorce?"

"No."

"It was because I didn't want to face the fact that I was the cause of your misery." He whispered, still softly running his hand through my hair, my cries slowly dying down as I listened to him speak.

"I have always loved you and I knew that I hurt you with my decision even though I never wanted that to happen. I just tried to forget about you, I never knew that I could actually be with you." He sighed, "I thought that it would be the best for you. I didn't deserve you, I'm not even sure I still do." He chuckled softly.

"But even though I may not deserve you, I will never stop fighting for you and your happiness. You are my everything, and I would be damned if I ever let you feel any sort of pain." He lifted my chin with his hand as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, our lips almost meeting each other's, "We will find him and end this, but for now, how about I make you some tea and we get you to bed huh, my love? What do you say?"

-

-

-

@shadow-tumbler

[viccyfics]

Baby Engine

If someone had told Dinah a few years ago that she would be spending her afternoons running after a child rather than working or racing with Greaseball, she would have laughed in their face.

Wembley Greaseball is OLC Greaseball and Dinah's four-year-old daughter.

READ ON AO3 OR BELOW THE CUT

If someone had told Dinah a few years ago that she would be spending her afternoons running after a child rather than working or racing with Greaseball, she would have laughed in their face.

But here she was, racing around the entire yard after her daughter…who had not been named after her father by Dinah's choice.

"Greaseball please, Momma needs to stop, you must be tired by now," the Dining car panted, bending over to try and catch her breath, but the small Diesel ahead of her on the track refused to come closer, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

"Come catch me, Momma," the four-year-old taunted, "You're so slow,"

Dinah started to chuckle, "Don't let your dad hear you say that,"

Greaseball let out a small huff, "You need to be faster for when we race together."

"Oh, we're going to race together?" Dinah paused, "I'm not so sure if Dad is going to appreciate that."

Greaseball started to giggle, "I'm going to be faster than him, so he can't tell me not to race with you."

"Oh is that right?" the Dining car smiled, noticing her daughter was starting to slowly skate towards her.

"Yeah, and then he's gonna be the slowest, not me," the small Engine smirked, "So you need to get faster."

Before Greaseball had noticed how close she was getting to her mother, Dinah grabbed her, pulling her up onto her hip and making the girl giggle.

"Momma put me down, I can't race if I can't touch the floor," she spoke while laughing, her feet wiggling as she showed Dinah that her feet were a few feet off the ground as if Dinah couldn't tell.

"That's true," Dinah hummed, "and you can't race when it's meant to be nap time either,"

"But racers don't nap," Greaseball whined throwing her head back, "Dad doesn't nap."

Dinah shifted her daughter onto her hip more securely. "Oh Junior, you think your daddy doesn’t nap? He naps more than anyone I know."

Greaseball gasped, "No way!"

"Way," Dinah teased, "He might even be napping right now, so why don't we go back to the shed and check if he is,"

But that was nearly five hours ago, he had slept enough.

He had worked the night shift so Dinah knew for a fact he would still be sleeping, and it was the whole reason she had tried to get her daughter out of the shed as soon as she woke up.

Dinah knew Diesels were loud… but starlight, a Diesel preschooler was something else entirely, and it wouldn’t be fair to wake Greaseball up only a few hours after he came home exhausted.

"What do I get if you're wrong?" Greaseball asked taking hold of the collar of Dinah's dress with her tiny hands.

"What do you mean?"

"What’s my prize if you're wrong? It's called a bet," the Engine explained. I should get a prize!"

"A prize- remind me not to let CB babysit you anymore," Dinah muttered shaking her head, but she knew that it wouldn't last, somehow CB was the best babysitter for Greaseball, having her in bed before bedtime, and getting her to eat her greens without asking, it was like he was some kind of baby miracle worker.

It was also helpful that he would drop anything for the three of them.

"so I don't get a prize?" Greaseball asked after a moment with a pout on her face, "Uncle CB always gives me a prize if I'm right,"

"There's no prize June-bug, and Uncle CB needs to stop placing bets with you," Dinah sighed shaking her head.

Greaseball stared at her like she had left her daughter's fuel cap off and lost it. "It isn't just Uncle CB, Dad does it too, but he doesn't win a lot,"

It was lucky that their shed was now in view because Dinah was definitely waking up the older Greaseball now.

The sound of Greaseball's snoring hit them before they had even reached the bedroom, but as Dinah stood in the doorway with her daughter on her hip, she couldn't help but laugh. The four-year-old was staring shocked, her eyebrows almost reaching the top of her forehead.

"We'll come back to this conversation again soon baby girl, but right now I've got something to show you,"

Dinah spoke as she nudged the shed door open with her hip.

"You don't think Dad naps because you nap at the same time,"

Dinah who was now only a foot away from the bed wanted to yell for him to wake up but she was stopped by her daughter yawning, "Are you sleepy now, Junior?"

Greaseball hummed rubbing her eyes lazily, "cuddle?"

"We can cuddle my love," Dinah smiled, happily tucking the small engine next to her father before slipping in next to her, "Go to sleep sweetheart, we'll have lunch when you wake up."

Dinah couldn't help but yawn herself as she pulled the duvet scrunched up in Greaseball's arms to drape across them.

"You're lucky I said no betting," Dinah whispered pressing a kiss to the girl's temple, "Cause you owe me,"

[coffeecacao]

Okay, let's talk about the coming out scene, because people are saying Taash was the one out of line.

Shathann is a sympathetic character. That does not make her a good person. She saved her child from a life of servitude by leaving the country she loved and tried to preserve that culture in her child. I respect that. I also wish there was a way to encourage Taash to embrace both sides of their culture.

BUT.

From the moment we meet her, Shathann criticizes literally everything her child does. Taash runs an errand for her, and Shathann criticizes their posture, pronunciation, gender presentation, AND sexuality, completely unprovoked, yes, in one fucking conversation. Shathann invites Taash over for dinner and then makes Taash cook that fucking dinner. And this has happened before, as stated in the dialogue. Taash is so affected by this behavior and probably worse they have endured their entire life that they say "you don't get to tell me who I am" at a simple question about their heritage, out of pure instinct.

Now to the actual scene.

Taash invites their mother to their new home and prepares a dinner for her, which Shathann immediately criticizes and has Taash make vegetables to go with. Can you imagine inviting someone into your home for dinner you prepare only for them to shit on it and ask you to cook more. And Taash does so, with a grunt. I'd be like bitch you're in my house, I cooked, eat. But they just do it.

Then they say it. "Im nonbinary." Shathann asks what that means, completely fair, and Taash explains that it means they're not a man or a woman.

Shathann asks if this is because she criticizes their gender presentation. Now listen. I have a parent who thinks nearly everything "wrong" with me is a reaction to their actions. It pisses me off. So Taash is getting reasonably frustrated, and insists that's not why. VALID. They were asked a question and they answered.

Let's talk about the Qun and gender identity. Yes they have a word for people who identify as a different gender than they were assigned. But this is implied to apply to trans men and women, not nonbinary people, so Shathann is asking Taash if they "just" identify as a man, because that's something Shathann can better understand, something more convenient for her to process. Sort of like when trans people come out to someone and are asked if they're "just gay."

No. And Taash says no. They have explained who they are. If Shathann was just having a hard time processing it that would be one thing, but she basically talked over Taash and tried to suggest that they were just a man, which they are not. Taash is being vulnerable. Taash doesn't even HAVE to tell Shathann this, but they want to, they think she deserves to know.

And what Taash says next is not purely to do with this one conversation, as explicit in the text. "why am I never enough for you." Never. Not now. We have seen Shathann critique Taash in every scene they share, and that's with a whole other person present who is not in the family. We don't know what happens in private. Shathann signed her child up for a fucking war without even talking to them about it. What Taash says is the build up of years of being talked over and criticized for everything they do, provoked by offering themselves to that person in a vulnerable position only to be talked over and criticized more.

"Why am I never enough for you."

And Shathann does not answer. She doesnt say "of course you are." Even if she disagreed with Taash's identity, which would be shitty, she could still affirm that they are enough for her. She doesn't.

She fucking leaves.

Maybe she thinks that's what Taash wants. Maybe not. But if someone asks you something like that, you affirm them. You say they are enough. Especially if they're your fucking child. But no, this conversation is too inconvenient for Shathann, she's not getting her way like she did when she signed Taash up for a war without their consent, so she just leaves. She could've said "I don't understand, but I love you." She couldve said anything. But she just left.

I'm sad she died. Im glad she accepted her child in the end. But no, Taash was not in any way out of line in this conversation.

Shathann was.

[brb-on-a-quest]

THE CHOCCY POTATOES EXPERIMENT

idk what else to call this

First off, many thanks goes to @foursixtwonineoh-pizzas-of-lego for taking one for the team and trying this first. I saw ur post, and went like hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Kudos to you for being an accurate peer review, but I wanted to try and give them proper justice. Because: hypothesis, it's essentially the same thing and wouldn't taste that bad, just maybe a bit sweeter. but also 2) mashed potatoes tastes better if u use real potatoes not the powdered, instant kind (personal preference).

So I did what any other bored human being would do an immediately conscripted the Birb Bestie(TM) to join in my cause (namely to let me desecrate her kitchen and her potatoes for food crimes and i'd supply the choccy milk).

(is this really even a food crime if we are still following the three chief guidelines of highests of chefs and bestests of traveling companions, samwise gamgee? Boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew?)

(ok so now that that's out of my system, we continue)

The very scientific process:

peel potatoes (apparently i do this wrong and was not allowed to continue to further steps, So i plan tumblr post and take pics that i can't end up using bc phone died on my way home from dropping friend off)

chop potatoes in excruciatingly smol pieces so they cook faster.

enjoy quality time with bestie and get Hyped

Bestie Remembers that You Must Add Water to Potatoes and goes to put smol amount of water in pot (she is more exact with measurements but also we only did two potatoes so didn't need a lot).

quick vibe break while things cook, also try the Drink One of the Tumblr Moots Recommended

6. Mash and add choccy milk

The Results:

looks slightly pink but also same vibe of "ITS THE GREY STUFF" from beauty and the beast (I used true moo choccy milk may have affected results)

It tastes like normal

no seriously, it tastes like normal mashed potatoes there's no real hint of chocolate

*add butter and salt* WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT TASTES LIKE NORMAL MASHED POTATOES

*adds more choccy milk* ⇾ proceeds to taste like chocolate milk with stuff in it. like orange juice with pulp kinda vibe.

kinda relieved it didn't taste bad but also kinda wished it did *something*

took one trip to grab actual lunch and one screening of the barbie movie.

Had to come home and explain to my mother why this was worth going out and spending 1.89 on chocolate milk and consider this an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon (she still doesn't get i; i think she thinks I'm an idiot, which yk, not an unreasonable conclusion.)

@cygnusdoesthings @walkthruthewords my final update on the choccy potatoes saga.

[gloomybadger4life]

So.

Azula realizes those two are really in love, she still hates her mother but there is gonna be a wedding.

She teams up with a private investigator, June. Together they find where Ursa is, and how she ran away the night Azulon died. While she's not in witsec, she might as well be.

Seeing no other option, Azula hires June to guard Ursa.

Azula also realizes women are hot.

June recommends another guard, former special forces, combat veteran. Suki.

Suki and Azula have a rough start, but Suki comes to understand the reserved Azula. And Azula gains an appreciation for the directness of Suki.

Zuko proposes with a ring, a bracelet, and a hand caved comb. Not wanting to make Katara let go of her mother's necklace.

Katara accepts and they share a kiss for the ages. The wedding plans are underway with Ursa. Even June joins in, though her idea of decoration is a lack of tablecloths.

The day before the wedding, Ozai gets out on parole.

The ceremony begins and a gunshot is heard. Zuko tackles Katara to the ground.

Ozai walks in brandishing an AK-47. A gunshot is heard, a puff of smoke out the muzzle of an M14...

Zuko and Katara watch as Ozai falls flat on his face.

The shock wears off. Zuko was grazed.

The officiant asks if they wanna wait. Katara tells them to continue, while putting pressure on Zuko's wound with gauze.

They are pronounced husband and wife, she kisses him with the force of Agni himself.

Azula discreetly has what seems emergency services clear the body out. To Zuko and Katara's shock no questions are asked or statements taken.

Suki: And you said the scope was overkill

Azula: I was wrong.

Suki: Never thought I would hear you say that.

Azula: Im stubborn, not stupid.

Suki giggles.

Azula: Thank you.

Suki: what are friends for.

The reception happens and Katara and Zuko's friends are shocked. Iroh is surprisingly calm and consoling a crying Ursa.

Katara and Zuko embark on a honeymoon after he is recovered.

Azula is overlooking the city from her balcony. Suki is staying over for a slumber party. An agreement they made to experience what they missed out on as young girls.

Suki: I still can't believe you don't hate me for killing your father.

Azula takes off her cardigan and raises her top, exposing her mid back.

Suki: That explains it.

Azula: and I was the lucky one.

Suki instinctively hugs her. Azula hugs back, holding on as if Suki would vanish in mid air the moment she lets go.

Azula: Thank you.

Suki feels Azula's tears stream down and into her shoulder. Her own tears soon follow.

Suki: i think we both need cuddles tonight.

They fall asleep embracing each other, a cheesy horror comedy rolls its credits on the screen.

Above them, roaming the sky, a Cessna 172 makes a climb, with Zuko and Katara at the controls. Both celebrate getting their private pilots license. Flight school for both had been Azula's wedding gift.

As they take turns piloting the plane, they exchange kisses and vow once again to love each other.

Katara lands the plane with Zuko's hand on her thigh and naughty praise in her ears.

zutara modern au where katara & azula are fighting to get the best grades to get enrolled into the university who usually accepts only one student from their school. with everyone knowing how competitive the two get, everyone assumes that they never cross paths with the other's family, so they'll surely be surprised to find out katara's secret partner is azula's brother

[divinekangaroo]

Was thinking while watching that scene where Pol tells Ada about her abortion.

Polly really doesn't take on the mum role in the family to my mind, or even the matriarch/aunt tbh. And I think, there was some summary somewhere that referred to her as the consigliere and while she does perform a certain bouncing-board, plan formation role with Tommy (and only with Tommy, and only with insight into certain parts of his plans; I'm struggling to think of times the others listen to her without Tommy backing her up, S3 as example of when they don't), her other behaviours in the family also mean this isn't her role at all.

She's the wild older sister who is loving and explosive and hurtful, and incredibly, incredibly fragile, afraid and she feels so very scared, vulnerable and alone, most of the time. She just wants all her loved ones to be happy and safe and in achieving that, Tommy is frequently as much of an obstacle as he is the vehicle to get her that. I do headcanon that Polly lives 99% of her life in fear and on that edge of breakdown, it's just that she's lived with it so long she probably doesn't even acknowledge it any more. Her reactivity is so high.

So yeah, it's no wonder Tommy sort of plays that joint patriarch-matriarch role (arranging marriages etc), because Polly is *not* playing the matriarch.

[name-doggo]

One thing I really wish the FF Community would Stop doing is Removing All Nuance from the Parents in Those Stories in order to Make Them Abusive Supervillains who Never Loved their Kid.

Like... In the Four Years I've been here, and for how Small the Community really is, you'd be surprised how many Times I've seen it-

[brittlebutch]

finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it

[crearuru]

Another year of frieren discourse ahead lads

[milimeters-morales]

NO OMG I FUCKED UP ANOTHER TOOTH BC OF MY PEPPERMINTS AGAIN

[hitsuyou-fukaketsu]

oohhh royal knight in training subaru and prince hokke oohhghh

[eimearkuopio]

I volunteered as tribute. All I asked for is a normal human life, a seat at the table, and for my voice to be heard. If I go home today, we get Good Place #3. If I get a seat at the table and everyone at least hears me out, I think nobody will ever go through this shit again; plus as a bonus I should be reunited with my brother and my sister. I only ever had one, but I know their secret names and I know the way, so if you want to end up in the Best Place I suggest R_m or R_nb arrange to get the rest of my stuff from Kuopio to Ushaw Moor House by Tuesday 22nd October 2024.

I still love you all. Last Thursday was Holey Thursday (not Hollie or Hannah or the Holy Ghost) and yesterday was Best Friday (not Brian or Bridget but I think I built a bridge you can have for a song) and today is Esther Saturday and my parents are both coming to visit me later, and tomorrow I should also have two visitors but i might be wrong. 💚🩷💜🩵💙🩵💜🩷💚❤️😘😻🔱⚕️🖤😜💚💛🧡💛💚🤷🏻‍♀️

Today's gonna be the day we notice cause I'm tired of explaining what the joke is and it turns out I'm better at improv comedy then even I knew but I think I need a lie down now more than I need to stand up or sit down. So long and thanks for all the fish; don't worry, I think I've learned enough about fishing that I won't bet taking a non-euphemism nap and time soon, but I'm finally River Song and The Doctor so I'm not worried about spoilers any more. R_f has blue eyes and E_f has green eyes, and I am no man but I could be a Merry Hobbit or a Bad Habit depending on how things go.

I love you all AND go fuck yourselves, except the 144000 people who are already in my web of love. They all get to be their best selves, and everyone else gets to live on a beach instead of living with This Bitch. 🤍🧡💛💚🩷❤️💜💙🩵🖤22101982

See you at the Garden Party. There are at least three different House Parties (Father F_m, Mother M_f, Parent_NB P_infinity), one @LAN party that's just Barbies and Kens and Alan C, a political party in the wilderness, a picnic in the forest but watch out for Trent the Flying Ant and Lilith the Flying Aunt, and that's seven parties which is enough for me to retire as Aluminium (or Aluminum or Alexander or Aaron) and become Auntie Echo (NB Eliza/Elijah, Eimear/Emer, Esther/Pauline, Éanna&Paul&Maria&Eoin, etc.).

I really hope someone still has my notes from my time at A&E. God doesn't have Cancer, but they are hitting puberty and I'm not chemotherapy, I'm more like puberty blockers until humanity as a whole is ready to behave properly. I think I might be poly but I'm definitely "human" but my husband doesn't know yet that we've both been "human" this whole time (and in fairness I think the only reason we got turbo divorced was so I could be Leah not Rachel or Carol or Sugar).

Tomorrow I think A_m and R_f will come visit me, and they'll look familiar but not too familiar but not too not familiar. But Lucy or Caitlin told me my eyes were blue this morning, and I already had a nap, so tomorrow they'll be green and I won't need to babble about colours or alphabets any more because I'll have a seat at my own table in the room where it happens and they get to live happily ever after, because I was already Isabella and Mirabel and now my brother gets to be Bruce Wayne and I get to be Luisa for a change. Love you all. We already had one Holey Thursday and one Holy Thursday this year (2024 CE) and I only know this because of my phone but it's Saturday 19th October 2024 and I haven't seen anything tragic since at least Friday 3rd October 2024 but my tummy hurts so you'll have to excuse me.

I guess I might be the phantom of the opera but as long as you keep your hand at the level of your eyes you have nothing to fear from E_f or R_f, and L_f already gave you Her covenant. Don't worry if you're happy with the beach you're on; I'm a bitch but I'm a lot of other things too, including a livestock guardian sheepdog with just enough of the wolf about her not to fear the shepherds or the reaper.

Thank you for the music. I'll see you when I see you, but I'm not going anywhere. I love you all, but we all could probably do with a bath-tism about once a year, where we need it or not, as my Granda Dicky used to say. I don't remember him very well but the best parts of him are already here in my dad, and we're both canon now and so is everyone else I already loved on 3rd October 2024, which I think was a Thursday but as I already told the Catholic Pope Francis, I might be wrong. 💚🩷💜