Mace Windu takes his seat on the council and waits for the other members to join the session. Currently it’s only Ki Adi and Yoda who’ve joined him, both quiet and lost in their own thoughts. Mace isn’t about to bother either of them, not wanting to deal with Yoda and his constant rambling speeches that circle around and around, like an Albatross looking for land.
Today they’re discussing Obi-Wan Kenobi. The youngling who has a hard time controlling his temper and a harder time finding a Master. He’ll be thirteen soon, and from the way things are going, it doesn’t seem the young one will find anything within these temple walls.
Perhaps-
The thought stalls out before Mace can even finish it and he feels a shatterpoint begin to form. A shatterpoint that feels oddly familiar. It feels like-
Him.
There’s a burst of light and Mace finds himself staring up at….himself. Ki-Adi and Yoda both startle in their chairs, Ki-Adi drawing his saber on the intruder who he can only see from the back.
“Put that away before your hurt yourself.” Mace Windu says and turns to face Ki-Adi.
“What in the Sith!” Ki-Adi exclaims and then holsters his saber.
“Calm down.” Windu says, hands on his hips. "I came back through a shatterpoint to take care of some very urgent business.“
“Very urgent this must be.” Yoda croaks in his horrible little gremlin voice and Windu considers planting his fist in Yoda’s entire fucking face before opting against it. Punching the master of the order isn’t going to help him….yet.
“Only if you consider the obliteration of the Jedi Order urgent.” He snaps it at Yoda, pissed beyond belief at the sass he’s getting. Yoda’s ears perk up and he looks more alert than Windu ever remembers seeing him.
“The obliteration of the order?” Mace echoes it and shares a look with Ki-Adi. "What happened?“
“The fucking Sith happened.” Windu half shouts and waves his arms. "Motherfucking Sith are invading the motherfucking SENATE.“
“The senate?” Ki-Adi parrots and Windu snaps his head to glare at the man.
“Senator Sheev Palpatine.” Windu confirms. "He’s a Sith lord.“
"A very heavy accusation this is.” Yoda humms and Windu goes from mildly pissy to volcanic eruption.
“HE CUT OFF MY HANDS AND THREW ME OUT A FUCKING WINDOW.” Windu explodes. "I’LL SEE THAT ASSHOLE BURN IN THE DEEPEST PITS OF HELL BEFORE I LET HIM KILL ME AGAIN.“ Even Yoda goggles at him, mouth dropping open at having someone, anyone lift their voice at him in anger. It hasn’t happened in….Yoda doesn’t actually remember.
"How.” Ki-Adi clears his throat. "How we do stop that from happening.“
"The first step.” Windu says, voice dropping to a low angry growl. "Is to get that little shit Kenobi a master.“ He stabs a finger in Mace’s direction. "And NOT your wookie-fucking friend.”
“That was one time.” Mace says incredulously, taken aback at Windu’s anger at a man he thought they would both call friend. "And he’s just going through some hardships, he needs-“
"Qui-Gon Jinn needs SHIT.” Windu spits it. "He needs some fucking therapy is what he needs. If I come back here and find out you gave Kenobi to him I will be VERY unhappy.“ And as suddenly as he appeared he vanishes, leaving Mace alone with two other very confused members of the council.
XxX XxX
Mace tries.
He talks to the few Jedi Masters around the temple that don’t have Padawan’s to teach, even goes so far as to ask Master Dooku if he’d be willing to train a youngling with a case of anger issues.
No one wants the boy.
Mace is….just too busy. No really, with his new seat on the council he’s far too busy with paperwork and council meetings to even consider taking on a padawan, especially one as volatile as Obi-Wan Kenobi, who is being disciplined yet again for picking a fight with another youngling.
Whatever that child has against young Bruck, Mace hopes he can be reasoned with, and soon. Or he’s going to find himself aged out with no one to blame but himself.
Well. There’s always-
Pain explodes in his face and leaves him reeling, stumbling back and blinking away the stars as blood starts to pour from his newly broken nose.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?” Windu roars at him and Mace cups hands over his nose, staring at his older self with both apprehension and terror.
“I asked around.” He says, sounding nasily and annoyed. "No one wants the boy. He’s too quick to anger.“
"Too quick to anger my entire black ASS.” Windu says and Mace raises an eyebrow. "That boy is being bullied and no one gives a shit because you’re all too busy shoving your heads so far up your own asses you can taste your own shit.“
"Force, you’re full of profanity.” Mace says, glaring at his older self who slaps his hands out of the way and fixes his nose in one hard crunch of pain.
“You shut the hell up and go tell that boy you’re going to train him.”
“I’m too-” Windu has a handful of his robes, backing Mace up into the wall hard and fast and somehow LOOMING even though they’re the same damn height.
“The next words out of your sithdamned mouth had better be ’overjoyed to train Obi-Wan Kenobi’.” Windu snarls and Mace’s shoulders slump.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He mutters it and Windu vanishes like he’d never been there at all. "I really don’t like future me.“ He says to himself and then heaves a long sigh and goes to track down Obi-Wan.
XxX XxX
"I hear you’ve been having visitations.” Qui-Gon greets Mace during one of his very rare temple visits.
“I am and I hate him.” Mace grumbles into his caff.
“How can you hate him? He’s you.” Qui-Gon points out, like a bastard who’s never been punched in the face by his future self.
“He’s an asshole.” Mace says. "He punched me in the face and every second word out of his mouth is a profanity.“
"Well.” Qui-Gon cocks his head to the side and for a moment Mace can pretend the darkness that lives in Qui-Gon’s soul over the loss of Xanatos has lessened. "You must have done something to piss you off. Force knows I’ve wanted to punch you over the years.“
"Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Mace says dryly and Qui-Gon laughs for the first time since Xanatos fell. Force. It hurts to see his friend hurting and Mace takes a careful moment to consider-
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I SAY?”
“Oh come ON.”
“I honestly thought you were joking.” Qui-Gon says, looking wide eyed between the two Mace Windu’s. The older one isn’t much older, maybe thirty years or so, but he wears them well.
“I am so sorry.” Mace tells him and Qui-Gon raises an eyebrow in question and completly misses Windu’s fist.
He wakes up on the floor, groggy and covered in his own blood.
“You can’t just PUNCH people.”
“I CAN PUNCH WHOEVER I WANT YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE.”
“Look. I wasn’t going to-”
“No YOU look. I can only show up when you’re about to make a FUCKING DECISION that will lead to the FUCKING DESTRUCTION OF THE GODDAMN JEDI ORDER.”
“Do I do that?” Qui-Gon asks from where he’s staring up at the ceiling, fixated on a missing tile.
“You don’t fucking HELP matters.” Windu says, voice sharp. "Get your dumb ass up off the floor before someone mistakes you for garbage.“
"What do I do?” Qui-Gon asks again and Windu fucking growls at him, fixes Mace with a hard look, and vanishes. "Okay you’re right.“ Qui-Gon tells Mace who snorts out a laugh and goes to help him off the floor.
"Oh I don’t know. I’ve wanted to punch you over the years.” He echoes Qui-Gon’s words and earns a groan as Qui-Gon hauls himself up off the floor.
XxX XxX
“Talked to many masters we have.” Yoda says and Mace hunches over in his chair because if Yoda is about to say what he thinks, this is going to be a very bad council session. "Train the young Kenobi, none of them will. Too much anger he has.“
"He was always so promising.” Ki-Adi sighs it and Mace breaths out in relief that maybe, just maybe he can get through talking or thinking about Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi without his alternate self showing up to throw hands and yell, as if that’s going to solve problems.
The future must be a very bleak place.
“Talked with Obi-Wan, I have.” Yoda says. "Speak to Qui-Gon Ji-ACK.“ Yoda’s words cut off at the enormous Korun fist in his face.
"HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO COME BACK HERE?” Windu roars it and then turns in a circle so he can address the whole council. "HOW GODDAMN HARD IS IT TO FOLLOW ONE FUCKING RULE? DO. NOT. GIVE. OBI-WAN KENOBI. TO. QUI-GON. MOTHERFUCKING. JINN. YOU DENSE MOTHERFUCKERS MIGHT AS WELL SEND A FORMAL FUCKING SURRENDER TO SHEEV PALPATINE.“
"Oh fuck my entire life.” Mace mutters it, drawing a startled look from Kit sitting to his left. "Fine. Fine. I’ll train the boy.“
"This had better be the last fucking time I come back here.” Windu warns in a low, mean voice and then he’s gone. You could hear a pin drop in the council chambers until Yoda sniffs.
“Bleeding, I am.”
XxX XxX
Mace scowls all the way down to the creche, scowls all the way through picking up Obi-Wan, who looks equally sullen even though he’s finally been taken on as a Padawan. Together they scowl all the way back to the new rooms Mace has taken, already missing his single suite.
“I have to go take care of some things for the council.” Mace says, not even looking at his new padawan for fear of resenting him. "I’ll be back by the evening bell.“
"Yes Master Windu.” Obi-Wan says, as if having a Master is some horrible obscure punishment. Should have given him to-
“Finish that thought and I will kill you and take your place.” Windu hisses in his ear, making Mace jump like a frightened cat.
“Why are you here?” Mace demands, trying and failing to calm his pounding heart. "I took the boy didn’t I? I’m training him just like you wanted.“ Rather than respond, Windu shoves him out of the way and then goes down onto one knee in front of the boy.
"Hello young Kenobi.” Windu’s face brightens with a smile and to Mace’s surprise the boy goes from sullen storm cloud to a bright little sunbeam.
“Hi Master Windu. I knew you were real, even if no one else did.”
“Well of course I’m real.” Windu reaches out and ruffles Obi-Wan’s hair, tugging gently on the boy’s ear to make him laugh. "I’m just from another point in time, that’s all.“
"Thank you for finding me a Master.” Obi-Wan says and then his voice lowers and Mace can barely make out what he’s saying.
“Youngling.” Windu’s voice goes impossible fond, the way Mace remembers talking to Deepa when she’d first moved to their new quarters and she’d had bad dreams. "Everything is going to be alright. I promise.“
"Okay.” Obi-Wan’s voice goes small and he darts forward suddenly, circling his arms around Windu’s neck in a tight hug. Windu wraps him up in a hug, holding on until Obi-Wan draws back first, rubbing at his cheeks like he’s trying to keep Mace from seeing his tears. "Thank you.“
"Of course.” Windu says and then gently bumps Obi-Wan’s chin with a knuckle. "Chin up young Kenobi. You’re future is as bright as the sunrise.“ And then he’s gone and Mace is left with Obi-Wan who sniffles wetly.
Mace swallows the urge to heave a long, endless sigh at how his life is turning out and drops to one knee, tugging out a handkercheif and wiping down Obi-Wan’s wet cheeks. "There’s no need for tears, padawan.”
“’M Sorry for crying.” Obi-Wan’s eyes drop and he shuffles his feet, like he’s waiting for Mace to administer a punishment for having the ever dreaded emotions.
“It’s fine.” Mace says and then gives into the urge to sigh. "Would you like to meditate?“ He asks, mentally reshuffling his afternoon.
"I’d like that very much.” Obi-Wan says and he feels like a beacon of brightness in the force. "Thank you Master.“
"Alright.” Mace gets to his feet. "Let me show you where the mats and incense are.“
Miscellaneous Clark Kent headcanons as relate to my little fic universe, that may or may not ever come up because who knows:
Little Clark was really susceptible to childhood superstitions for some reason. He didn’t go under ladders, he did the salt over the shoulder thing, he did not fuck with that Bloody Mary shit like NOPE I’M OUT THIS SLUMBER PARTY IS CANCELED, LANA GET OUT OF MY HOUSE AND TAKE YOUR MURDER GHOSTS WITH YOU. He believes that he is over this as an adult but whenever his foot is about to fall on a crack in the sidewalk it actually stops like a half inch above the ground and hovers there. He does not notice he is doing this. No one notices, ever, because it is the weirdest subtle unconscious thing in the world. At least Martha’s back is safe?
I covered the picky eater thing in Christmas in Kansas but to be more specific his tastebuds are just really sensitive to certain chemical compounds? Not just in terms of things he won’t eat but also in terms of things that he expects to be there and he doesn’t really like foods that lack those things. Your two options to make him eat anything are to cover it in sugar, or cover it in garlic.
He goes through a lot of breathmints. Can you imagine if Superman saved someone and they were like “man i appreciate being alive but he had some really bad garlic breath”? He would be so horrified.
He has a ratty, fucked-up old shirt that he wears whenever he is making pasta with red sauce. Even Superman cannot stand against the ability of red sauce to end up on whatever you happen to be wearing. HE WAS SO CAREFUL THIS TIME, HOW DID A STAIN END UP ON HIS BACK THAT JUST MAKES NO SENSE. Clark Kent’s weaknesses: kryptonite, tomato stains.
His ability to perfectly imitate anyone’s voice was one of the first things to manifest themselves, but this wasn’t the kind of thing anyone noticed was weird. It definitely didn’t seem like a power. He was just a small child who could do a really good Kermit the Frog. He sang Rainbow Connection at a middle school talent show and all the moms cried.
He definitely has a playlist to cheer himself up and get pumped and it has Eye of the Tiger and You’re the Best on it. Probably also half the Top Gun soundtrack.
Clark Kent’s twitter is pretty standard snarky newsman except with more farming memes. No one can tell how ironic the farming memes are. They might not be ironic at all. Clark Kent might be really sincere, or he might just be so ironic that he has circled back around into sincerity. No one knows. He’s also really good at that thing where you retweet two things from a person that side-by-side reveal they are a dingus. I don’t know if there’s a word for that.
His Snapchat is all dogspotting, with occasional rare dance breaks. He’s a pretty good dancer since he found those YouTube tutorials. He does this thing with his hips that Lois finds deeply upsetting for reasons she cannot articulate.
Jimmy asked Clark how he got so fit once and Clark was like “uh, farming. farm. eyup.” But he kept pressing for deets and Clark ended up just telling him that he’d pulled a Milo of Croton??? He lifted a newborn calf over his head and then just did that every single day until he was lifting a cow over his head. Jimmy knows nothing about farming or cows or physical fitness and this seemed plausible enough to him.
He has a blog where he posts rejected articles and it is the wonkiest thing in the entire world because that is why they got rejected. Perry takes one look at these articles and is like “it will take more words than I want to pay you for just to explain the setup for this article and also there are five people total who care, in the world, including you”
He has to be really careful when he buys clothes because he needs to make sure that they aren’t too tight and he has full range of motion. He does not want to relive The Skinny Jeans Incident. Shirts that say ‘I flexed and the sleeves fell off’ are only funny until it happens to you, then they are just horrible reminders. Popped seams everywhere. There is no way to explain that without looking like a huge tool.
Even when Superman has a really shitty day he keeps it together until he gets home, but then he shuts the balcony door and peels off his costume and Clark does the Tina Belcher groan for like ten minutes while he takes a shower because he got covered in sewer mutant or space crab or god knows and UUUUUUUUUUGH. Fortunately the nice older lady in the apartment next door always seems to know when he has had a shitty day and she brings him pie.
She can hear his melodramatic bullshit from over at her place, that’s how she knows. They share a bathroom wall and it practically echoes. If she times it right he will answer the door before he has put a shirt on because he doesn’t want to leave her waiting in the hall. She does not know what his day job is and it definitely does not occur to her that he is Superman because her primary interaction with him is that he acts like a whiny bitch and she brings him pie so she can ogle him. She is a simple woman who enjoys life’s simple pleasures.
The Kryptonian language is really complicated in terms of tonality, context, word order, musicality, etc, and the written language reflects that. Things like the order things are in, how things overlap, colors, etc, are all important. So basically I really like the idea of his symbol being one that represents his family name and says that he is of the House of El. It’s really just basically his last name.
If Starfleet gets to have replicators then Krypton gets to have replicators and Jor-El definitely stuck one in the ship so his son would have, you know, food and clothing. But only Kryptonians can use their tech because they’re who the neural interface is designed for so whoops they got real lucky that Kryptonian babies love milk from Earth goats. Clark only started using the replicator later but it only knows how to make Kryptonian things and only some of those are useful to him.
Okay so here is where I tie those last two bullet points into something fucking dumb that you will take out of my cold dead hands: Clark got the costume out of the replicator. It didn’t necessarily understand what he wanted though? Like, the concept of a costume didn’t really translate, but it got the idea that he wanted an active uniform, so that is what it made. It’s brightly colored and has his last name on the front. Clark is wearing a Kryptonian football jersey is what I’m getting at. Later Kara will be VERY confused by this. Imagine ending up on an alien planet and meeting your cousin and he’s been fighting crime dressed like a quarterback.
Most telepathy does not work because different neural patterns. Diana can only manage it if she uses her lariat and even then it’s like trying to lasso a freight train that does not stop. It’s extremely disorienting. J’onn has just accepted that Superman can hear him but he’s not going to get anything back. It’s like the psychic equivalent of a dial tone for him. He’s trying to call his bro but their family has dialup. He tries not to fuck with it because he doesn’t want to poke around in Superman’s head blind and break something.
Clark can’t type with super speed because he’ll break the keyboard and the computer can’t keep up. Instead he uses shorthand along with a custom set of AutoHotKey macros and it is honestly infuriating how fast he can get things written with this setup. But also if he doesn’t have AutoHotKey on whatever he’s typing with then sometimes Lois will get an email like: ll] dyk f pw mde a dec wrt t $l stry? ]ck
A woman was told by her therapist to try talking to at least one person once a week but she decided to cheat by just talking to her empty apartment under the guise of telling Superman about her day because lol he can hear everything allegedly so this definitely counts and is what the doctor was going for with this. When she has to go to the hospital for a medical emergency she comes home and there is a note on her counter wherein Superman explains that he was worried because he hadn’t heard from her in a while, so he swung by to check on her. When he found out what happened he watered her plants and fed her goldfish and also that cat that he thought might be hers (she does not have a cat). She is completely mortified because she was just being full of shit she did not actually believe he could hear her oh god what all did she even say and whose cat is this???
Look if you are in Metropolis and you loudly say HEY SUPERMAN there is a very good chance he will hear it even if he doesn’t mean to. He is not trying to eavesdrop, that’s just what happens when you yell someone’s name in earshot.
He doesn’t wear the costume under his clothes because you may have noticed a running theme here where the universe is conspiring to ruin his clothes and leave him running around shirtless all the time. I mean thank god for the rest of us but he would rather not risk someone spilling their drink all over him somehow and suddenly his shirt is transparent and you can see the big S. It’s bad enough when it happens under ordinary circumstances. How often can one man get drinks spilled all over him? You would be shocked. Shocked. His eyes are up here, Lois.
I had a blind professor, last semester, and I swung through his office to make up an exam. It was a while before I knew he was in there because he was sitting with the lights off. I finally went in, apologized, and took the exam by the light of a nearby window (which was fine). Forty-five minutes into dead silence he panicked and yelled in this booming voiced, “WAIT, YOU CAN SEE!!!” before diving across his desk to turn on the lights. I’m sure he was embarrassed but I thought it was endearing and it highlighted a large aspect of disabled life that I hadn’t previously considered.
Sort of relatedly I once had professor who was deaf, but she had learned to read lips and speak so she could communicate easily with hearing people who didn’t know sign language. One day she had gotten off topic and was talking a little about her personal life, so that one of the students said “Oh, I know, I grew up in Brooklyn too.”
She stared at him for a long time and then said “How do you know I’m from Brooklyn?”
And he said “You have a Brooklyn accent.”
She said “I do?” and the whole class nodded, and then she burst out laughing and said “I had no idea! The school where I learned to speak was in Brooklyn. I learned by moving my mouth and tongue the way my teachers did. So I guess it makes sense that I have their accent, I just never thought about it.”
had a very visceral urge to see savage opress meet and Aggressively Big Brother™ the hell out of boba fett earlier today
god but like. can you imagine maul’s face tho. savage fucks off for like half an hour and comes back dragging this feral little mando kid who’s cussing up a storm and keeps trying to stab him. just his expression alone.
“Brother What Is This, Where Did You Even Get It, Go Put It Back, It’s Probably Not Even Vaccinated, It’s Probably Got Rabies” by darth maul
its kind of disappointing how everyone turns rey into some soft, clean aesthetic queen with glitter and pale pink fabrics when in canon rey is a greasy girl icon
fanon rey: soft, smells like roses, always wearing glitter, no bad angles, pale smooth fabric queen canon rey: doesnt know what a hairbrush or makeup is, steals fries off your plate, will fight you in a parking lot
If I hung out with Rey we would have fart contests
that is the best addition to any post, sw-related or not
please consider that poe thinks hygiene is wiping down with the least greasy rag and rey just kind of scrubs off with some sand when she gets too crusty and finn is used to an absolutely scrupulous twice-daily hygiene regimen with water and sonic and specially formulated deodorants because you don’t want Army Stonk building up in a spaceship, or, god forbid, your armor. so he like, he loves poe and rey to death. he loves them. but he just watched poe try to explain the Sniff Test to rey, unsuccessfully, and he is kind of screaming internally now.
both rey and poe are in awe of how soft and sweet-smelling finn is and he’s like “listen it’s an ancient stormtrooper secret called WASH YOUR SOCKS WITH SOAP.”
when you share a body with a carnivorous thing thats just constantly going “eddie can we eat that pigeon eddie we should ride on top of the train eddie i want this thirty dollar chocolate sundae” the bar for Intrusive Thoughts That It’s Acceptable To Follow Through On gets real low man sometimes eddie sees that goop and his lizard brain is like Eat Big Taffy Now so he just fucking j,ust bites out a mouthful of symbiote and no matter how many times he does it venom is always like “what the FUCK”
“Dude I don’t know what the fuck happened. I was robbing some bitch and the next thing I know I’m being choked out by a fcker that can’t use his legs…..”
Handicapable.
Just awesome
THE GUY WITH THE CAUTION WET FLOOR SIGN THOUGH. HE IS MY HERO BECAUSE HE DIDN’T EVEN STOP HE JUST GRABBED IT LIKE ‘WEAPON GET’
He got spanked in the booty by a wet floor sign
“I may not have working legs but I still got hands and you’re about to catch ‘em!”
And I want all the pokemon in it. We have the technology. We can do this.
I want larger levels with branching tracks that you can plan ahead of time or switches you can hit by throwing apples or goading pokemon residents to do something to increase the replay value of the levels. Imagine choosing to either go up into the canopy or stay on the ground in a rainforest level, seeing the same environment different ways. A canopy filled with birds and plants, the ground filled with bugs and paras.
I want social pokemon engaging in natural behavior, including mature evolutions interacting with juveniles or territorial displays.
I want to have day and night versions for those levels, with different encounters. Maybe paths that can only be unlocked at night to play through again during the day. Perhaps they change with seasons, so Sawsbuck can be seen in all their glory, or with the phases of the moon influencing the presence of clefairy or ghost pokemon.
(And I really want to see a gengar arise from a clefable shadow)
An abandoned village, because there’s no humans in the Pokemon Snap island, where suburban pokemon like meowth furfrou still make their home and a damn Mr Mime that keeps trying to photobomb your shots.
A tropical beach where shoreline Pokemon can be coaxed up into the sand. Sandygast that can be coaxed to reveal themselves with food or likely prey, exeggcute rolling around between coconuts for camouflage and a suspiciously large palm tree that awakens with the pokeflute to reveal it’s really an aloan exeggutor.
An underwater level with schools of magicarp swimming instead of always just flopping around. Gyarados swimming over the top of you. Spooky kelp forests with a shipwreck where dhelmise, tentacruel, skrelp and dragalge lurk. Colorful reefs with frillish, horsea, clamperl, shellos and others flit around. The open water where Wailords and Lapras breach the surface and you can hear them sing.
I want an eeveelution in every level. And a ditto to find.
And I want a special level that can be unlocked by unearthing Fossils, one just populated by Pokemon of the past: all the fossil pokemon you’ve unlocked, and maybe some relicanth for good measure.
Concept: a robot character who’s just, like, hilariously nonchalant about physical peril because their “body” is a teleoperated drone and their mind is safely ensconced in a basement server room several miles away.
(Well, most of the time. Their usual body is disposable 3D-printed crap. They have a “good” body they bring out for special occasions, and they’re much more cautious when using that one – not in the “pain hurts” way, but in the “I’m wearing a really expensive pair of shoes” way.)
Guess who got asked to prom! BY A STRAIGHT GUY (Army pants). he’s my best friend, and a real man given the fact he has the guts to fulfill my gay student council dream of always helping out planning dances, and never getting asked. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life.
Thank you Jacob can’t wait for May 2nd!
I’m still crying.
What the fuck those blue tuxes are the sharpest thing I’ve ever seen
Rebloging because I finally got to see how it ended up omg this warms my heart so much I’m crying
this. this right here. this is the content i joined this website for
BettSplendens Tumblr Evac 