#if there are mistakes just know that i am also a mistake

[sandyca5tle]

Was having a semi-serious conversation with some friends, and accidentally found myself quoting RWBY in a way that actually helped the discussion at hand, which got me thinking, there's a good few lines in RWBY that are just generally good things for life, so i decided to write a post about it 'cause fuck it. Some'll have commentary some are self explanitary enough. "I'm not any one thing, I'm somewhat of a lot of things" - this was the one that actually sparked this, was talking about identity with a friend, and found this quote very applicable - you don't always have to neatly fit in a box, you can be somewhat several things at once, if that's what fits for you. "Well that embaressment, that desire to go back and tell yourself not to be so stupid, that just proves you're not the same person you used to be. And you're not done growing yet" "You don't have to look cool all the time"

"Of course you are [a real girl]. You think just because you've got nuts and bots instead of squishy guts makes you any less real than me?" - This is less a general life lesson, but more of a 'just because someone is different to you, doesn't make them/their experiences any less real'. And obviously there's the trans angle on this, not being a 'real girl' is an anxiety many trans girls have struggled with, or is something people throw at us to put us down. But just 'cause we're built a little different than cis girls, doesn't make us any less girls "Pyrrha thought that, if there was even the smallest chance of helping someone, that it was a chance worth taking" "I'd be lying if I said that it didn't hurt, that I didn't think about them everyday since I lost them. That I didn't wish I had spent more time with them. If it had been me instead, I know they would have kept fighting too, no matter how dangerous it was, so that's what I choose to do. To keep moving forwards." - Mostly putting this here 'cause it's always nice to have a talk like this regarding grief/loss, and yeah, i just think this is nice and fairly honestly reflection of how a lotta people feel when they lose someone, coupled with the adivce to keep moving forwards. "I'm not asking you to stop. Just please, get some rest, not just for you, but for the people you care about," - I like this one 'cause a) self care is important bitches! Burning yourself out isn't gonna help whatever you're trying to do and b) hurting yourself like that is also gonna hurt those who care for you, 'cause no one wants to see those they care for suffer. So remember to take a break from time to time. "You think you're being selfless, but you're not. Yeah that chameleon friend of yours got me pretty good, but I'd do it all again if it meant protecting you... and I promise Yang would say the same. You can make your own choices sure, but you don't get to make ours. When your friends fight for you, it's because we want to, so stop pushing us out. That hurts more than anything the bad guys could ever do to us," - Obviously the parts about fighting can be taken a little more metaphorically for everyday life, but I like this quote 'cause yeah, the people who are there for you *want* to be there for you, so deciding that you're a burden on them and hiding away/pushing them away is gonna hurt them because they *want to be there for you* - don't decide something for other people. "My losses, my failures, those, more than anything, are what have shaped me into who I am; showed me how I need to grow. If there's something I'm missing it's not because I've lost it, it's 'cause I haven't found it yet" - I just think this is a beautiful line. We've all wished at moments to undo the mistakes we've made, however those mistakes made us the people we are now. And yeah, I love the idea that something you're missing is not because you lost it, it's because you haven't found it yet. "One small kindness, in one small moment, lead to such a marvelous transformation, just like one act of dishonesty caused an unfortunate change" - Reminder that even small actions can mean a lot to others "What happens if I chose me?" "Then maybe, that girl is enough,"

But yeah, all of this to say I love RWBY, it has so many amazing and emotional moments and yeah, if you haven't given it a watch I would highly reccommend (and if you've heard bad things, i'd maybe give it a watch yourself first, a lotta people like to hate on the show in bad faith). But yeah, love RWBY and love all the wonderful moments and messages within it

[jazzyolivervo]

Aight. Let's tackle this point by point.

Content Warning for the screenshot below: Death threats.

"Jazzy is saying they're nice because she's afraid they won't hire her anymore."

I've left paid jobs because the clients did things I wasn't happy with. I left an entire project with a cast of personal VO heroes of mine because I was not happy with the client's overall behavior. Is my income important? Sure. But it's not nearly as important as my morals. I'm a very blunt individual. If I don't like people, I will say it to their faces. Like this.

Hey, ii-neg! I don't like you! Or anyone who follows you! Especially with how much you wish death onto the II creators. Something I DO have proof of. Don't believe me?

Looky! I posted evidence! It ain't that hard.

Also, please report this! I don't think Tumblr likes encouraging murder on their platform~

"I have people and proof that beg to differ."

Show it then.

"You do know about the ableism. Don't deny it."

No, because all you do is claim that it happened and then proceed to do nothing. I can deny it all I want because you refuse to show any actual evidence.

"Adam cowardly licked Israel's boots."

The evidence you have of that is a flag from a decades-old, largely unused IG account. It is possible that he, being a teenager at the time it was last used most likely, wasn't aware of that the flag was for a country that was doing REALLY bad stuff. It is entirely possible he thought AT THE TIME it meant Judaism. It's entirely possible, and even believable, that he wanted to represent his faith and didn't realize what the flag actually meant. Was it a mistake? Sure. Was it one he corrected? Yes. And it's stupid that you're still dragging him on this. And considering the man went so far as to delay episodes in solidarity with anti-Israel strikes, I do not think you can factually say he's an Israel supporter.

But again, your account is one that relies on just saying things without actually providing actual evidence.

Aaaaaaaanywho! I'm gonna go ahead and stop giving this person attention after this. Seeing their post about me told me everything I need to know and further posts saying they're wrong is pointless given that any individual who thinks about what they're actually saying for 5 seconds can get the gist themselves.

I'm still gonna do positivity posts on here like the dirty little "posie" I am. But they'll be a wide range of topics! :D

Someone wake me when they actually present actual evidence.

[marsmaximoff]

❤️‍🩹; healing caresses ᜊ

content warning: gn!reader (married). comfort, fluff. his illness and cheating are mentioned.

word count: 349 ^^

author's note: the emperors' hype is dying, you say? not on my blog. this will ALWAYS be a caracalla fan account, and im gonna post more about him, i promise. i just got distracted with season two of squid game which i'm also gonna post more about (it'll be about the pink guards hehe). anyways, i think no one is gonna read this but i hope im wrong SJKSJSK. ps: english is not my mother language, im sorry for the mistakes. enjoyyy <3

divider by @saradika-graphics !!

his fluffy and slightly messy ginger locks act like the softest of silks around my fingers. the soothing gesture slowly bringing him back, melting away the agitation. all showing on the loosening of his shoulder muscles, his now even breathing, and the way he leans into my touch, seeking that unwavering love i so unconditionally provide.

“what…did i say this time?” he asks the question slowly, with caution, almost absentmindedly. i don’t know what makes me feel worse: the fact he doesn’t remember or the way he wants to. “do not worry about it.” my hand does not cease its movement. “i…i wish to know.” he shifts, pressing his head on my lap more onto my stomach, as if bracing himself. i have never enjoyed these conversations, loathing how much self-deprecation they bring. if he’s lucky enough to forget, why would i plague his mind again?

“you questioned spoke about my loyalty, my fealty”, as usual, “stated i would fancy the idea of leaving you, which i will never”, i assure him firmly. fortunately, his words don’t pierce my heart anymore. i do not let them, for it is not my husband who utters them. “they shall not get to your head, i… i did not…” i know how difficult such words are for him, acknowledging the illness that slowly rots all he has ever been.

“love, don’t concern yourself. i feel all right, what matters to me is that you do. i am already aware that you do not mean any of it.” some masters warned me i would tire of so much consolation, but it comes easy when the love is pure, i believe. “thank you, my love. i assume it is not effortless”, he continues with a sigh, “but you must know how highly i value your company and patience. it warms me”, his embrace tightens around me, as if reinforcing the genuine confession. “that will on no occasion change, you have me forever”, i say with a loving smile before pressing a soft kiss to his head. boyish giggles surround us, delightedly squeezing our hearts.

[katerinaaqu]

Hi! Love your takes and all! What do you think of people talking about Penelope being all buff and strong physically as she was "Spartan?" or that she find Odysseus more attractive with blood plaster on his body as she is "Spartan" or such?. Is it true in the Epics? I read something about a Lykurgus or something..I just want to have a nuanced answer to that, also sorry for the silly question.

You are very kind Anon and I am glad you find them useful

Okay for starters I think this whole thing is a massive stereotype in regards to Sparta that "they are all sexually aroused by blood and violence". I mean yes Sparta as we know had an extreme military outline but it is not like they all just killed around to have fun like a twisted version of Asterix village or something. They valued war and the strength in war of course and they took pride to their warfare and all but yeah I think the whole thing of "oh gosh! Blood! Foreplay for Spartans" is just a joke that goes too far sometimes (although we DO have some exaggerated sources about the Spartans but, surprise surprise, they come from their main rival, Athens so yeah one needs to consider that too. So yeah although the Spartans were strictly military I do not think it is actually realistic to say that they all went like:

lol XD

Two this "Sparta" that they mostly mention is at least 100 years if not more away than the "Sparta" mentioned in the epic cycle. You see the Epic Cycle might have been synthesized at the 8th century BC but the events taking place in it, reflect on the Bronze Age or the Mycenean kingdoms which existed before. These "Spartans" everyone speaks about is usually referring to the Doriean Spartans. The Dorieans were a Greek set of tribes with their own dialect that came down from the north at the year around 1100 BC, around 100 years after the estimated date of the events of the Trojan war and they got to remain to the areas such as Macedonia or Lacedaimona aka Sparta thus we have Macedonians and Spartans speak Doric Greek dialect while Atheneans speak Attic Greek dialect and the Asia Minor greek cities speak Ionian etc Either way as I said the events of the Trojan war happened around 100 years before this Doric Tribe descend much less till the strictly military spartan system to be fully crystallized. So we need to think of that. And even then it is not like the Spartan women were some sort of body-builders who didn't have any sort of binary roles to their society or being active warriors in armies etc (don't mistake them for Amazons guys! Hahahaha!). They did actively excersize more than most Greek cities at that time and they did take part in athletic events more than let's say Athens (Athenean women by n large seemed to participate in sports such as running and those were exclusively for Hera's celebrations) so we can imagine they would be more athletic than the average Greek lady but that doesn't mean they were soldier-trained or anything. The military training was for boys at the city of Sparta. And women still had their own binary roles in their respected society, they just had some more freedom as compared to their Athenean counterparts.

So even if Myceneans DID have a more military form of society or at least based on the findings they did focus on warfare to their art and such and the building of their walls and all they still wouldn't be the same as the doric Sparta that were exclusively military. Could perhaps mycenean Sparta have the basis for the future doric Sparta? Perhaps but I doubt we have sufficient evidence to say they are identical.

Three. I believe that people who wanna desperately depict Penelope as some buff lady, misses the concept of Penelope's strength in the Odyssey. Penelope was not strong because she could fight with the sword. She was strong because she was mentally steadfast, clever and resourceful and enduring and she managed to hold the kingdom of Ithaca steadfast by herself for 20 years. It wasn't about her being buff lady. Homer does seem to imply she was tall and stoutly buillt; see my other post where I mention her physical description in Homer:

but not buff as "I'm gonna kick your ass" buff and all. Homer doesn't mention that any of the Spartan princesses have some specific training (Helen Clytemnestra or Penelope) but later literature implies that they have basic knowledge on weaponry (for example in later 5th century dramas and above Clytemnestra not only is seen wielding a weapon but knowing some basics as to how it was made) but it needs to be said that the posthomeric sources were also influenced by their contemporary Sparta aka the doric military Sparta. Homer doesn't imply that this strict military doric way of life was part of his lore but he does imply that Sparta relies more to its military (as compared to Ithaca or Pylos for example) so maybe he attempts to create the illusion of historical continuation but either way no this whole "300s-like" Sparta was not crystalized yet to the times that Homer synthesized his poems much less to the time of Bronze Age.

And there is no hint that Penelope goes "WOW BLOOD!" that seems to me one of the overused jokes on the internet, again emanating by the whole series of Sparta stereotypes used for comedy. It was in fact Euryclea the one to almost welp in happiness seeing Odysseus covered in blood and that was because Odysseus had killed the men she hated. Penelope doesn't show such a thing. Odysseus also washes himself up to be presentable to her. And even in posthomeric sources Penelope was not linked to physical strength but rather with the strength of her mind and the purity of her intentions (well...except maybe from Parthenius narrative if I recall correctly. There Penelope is pictured as scheming in jealousy against one of the sons Odysseus ellegedly produced and manipulated her husband to kill his illegitimate son)

As for the last part I am not sure what you are referring to? Are you referring to Lycurgus that is mentioned in some later sources as king? I did find for example the reference of Plutarch (who lives much much later) that he implies that Lycurgus lives at the same time as Homer or possibly had met him personally but is that what you are referring to? Either way I assume you refer to the historical person rather than some mythical figure because in homeric realm we do have rulers such as Tyndareus (the king of Sparta father to Helen and Clytemnestra) and Icarius (father to Penelope). It seems that Homer with the mention of the two rulers, even if not directly mentioning it, seems to be winking at the later but still ancient custom of doric Sparta to have two kings but I am not sure if that truly was his objective (and therefore creating an anachronism most likely)

I hope that answers your questions a bit

[starbylers]

How much of “El” was actually in Will’s van speech, why this scene does NOT point to him letting Mike go, and what we actually know about Will's arc/Byler because of it

I know everyone jokes about the Will crying in the van shot so we sometimes forget how serious of a moment that was but like…..he was devastated. It’s always bothered me when people act as though this scene was about El in any genuine way, and that the message to take away is that Will is accepting Mike and El love each other and starting to move on. Both of these things couldn’t be further from the truth, they’re just convenient interpretations to fit a certain narrative.

In reality, Will assumed what El feels because he loves Mike, and that’s how he feels. There was no conversation between him & El, nothing Will ever witnessed, for him to determine that Mike "makes her feel like she’s better for being different”, that that helps her "fight". It’s what El wanted to feel from Mike, but she clearly didn’t (“You think I’m a monster too”). We never see Mike uplift her for her differences throughout the entire time they're dating, and then in s4 El gets a plot about feeling like she doesn't fit in (“I am different”) and actively lies to Mike about it ??? So...when exactly does Mike make her feel like she's "not a mistake at all"? El doesn't even feel safe giving him the opportunity, in fact she actively refuses to repeatedly: lying in her letters, asking Angela to lie to Mike at the rink, in their fight when he tries to understand & she tells him he doesn't. (And then when he tries in the monologue to use the sentiment “I love you for exactly who you are” etc.…she loses.)

And aside from that, explaining the painting and its meaning was the most blatant lie we see Will tell, and that’s all him. El didn't say all these wonderful things she loves about Mike, didn't create a gift inspired by something personal to Mike (DnD) to emphasise that message. Those were Will’s thoughts and feelings, unquestionably. There is nothing to suggest that El perceives Mike in that way ("the heart", "guiding the party, inspiring us", "without [you] we'd all fall apart"), that she understands Mike and knows exactly what to say to make him feel important, special and needed, that she loves him the way Will loves him (which just coincidentally happens to encompass exactly what Mike needs to hear to soothe his insecurities (“I’m just some random nerd” etc.)). And frankly even if we pretend El thinks the exact same things, Will was the one who did the work to make Mike happy. The idea that El should be able to coast on the efforts of someone else because "well she obviously feels the same way" (where ???) is kind of disturbing. Mike deserves better, and it makes no sense that the writers would narratively reward a love interest who put no effort into showing how much Mike is valued vs one who went above and beyond to make him feel loved.

That speech only applied to El insofar as Will sprinkles in "these past months she's been lost without you", "she's so different from other people", "we'd all fall apart, even El, especially El" and "if she was mean to you/seemed like she was pushing you away". Not because El said any of this, but because it's plausible for Will to come to these conclusions on his own and think he's correct (and even be partially correct). He knows El was doing awful in Lenora because she is different, he knows she's part of the group and has experienced Mike's leadership, he knows she fought with Mike and then left him. All of these things also affect him - he missed Mike's friendship while they were separated, he's different because of his sexuality, he's part of the group too, he "sabotaged" the day in Mike's eyes after not reaching out much and we know he's scared of losing Mike due to his feelings.

But the rest? "Of course she needs you Mike, she'll always need you", "You make her feel like she's not a mistake, like she's better for being different and that gives her the courage to fight", "if she [...] was pushing you away, it's just because she's scared of losing you" (I do think that one's partially true but Will wouldn't know beyond a guess), “if she was gonna lose you I think she’d want to get it over with quick", "El needs you and she always will” (and of course "El commissioned it" and the compliments he gives after)...who is Will to make those claims? He doesn't know how El feels, he didn't even know El was lying to Mike, she clearly doesn't confide in Will about her relationship. No, these things are all Will guessing/outright lying and letting his own feelings slip through. And just in general outside of Will, El hasn’t done/said anything elsewhere in the show to confirm that she feels any of this (in fact it was de-confirmed, in the case of the “better for being different” stuff).

Essentially, it’s all just Will's assumptions about El, some of which are based in reality and some of which are Will projecting. But most importantly, the reassurance and comfort he gives (the painting stuff) in response to Mike talking disparagingly about himself are Will and no-one else, and part of the most blatant lie he tells (“she told me what to draw [...] your coat of arms, it's a heart [...] without heart we'd fall apart”) is specifically what is called back to to push Mike into confessing!

Now, the idea of Will "accepting the reality" of Mike loving El is so ridiculously irrelevant. Will was heartbroken after he did what he did, this boy was literally sobbing out the window, but the whole reason he does is because he fully 100% believes Mike loves El. He knows, people! He spends the entire season giving Mike advice and pushing him towards her. Why would Will need to "accept" something he's been actively supporting before and during this scene? In his mind it's fully unrequited and he's operating within that reality in the most selfless, helpful, unobstructive way! He's not in denial, he has no hope.

What they really mean is he needs to move on and that this scene is somehow an indication that he is, but again, no: "[I] need you, and [I] always will" is Will's final projection before he cries his eyes out, and then later on we see him miserably staring at them again. The fact is, Will has accepted his "reality", that just didn't lead to him getting over Mike. No, it led to him sacrificing something he poured his heart into to save Mike’s relationship because he thinks that what will make Mike happy is to be with El, so he's making that happen. He is a bigger M!leven shipper than anyone. He still loves Mike, shows no signs of letting go, but he's just that selfless. And it's perfect, because no amount of knowing Mike loves El seems to change how much Will loves Mike. Incredibly inconvenient for a "plot" that relies on the gay character’s silly feelings magically disappearing out of reverence for a het couple and their deep soulmate love……

But this is why some people try to invent an imaginary arc where Will was somehow trying to get in the way of M!leven/had hope Mike could feel the same way, because otherwise you just get: Will likes Mike, knows it's hopeless, and then it randomly fizzles out lmao. Everyone knows that's not an arc; there's no change, no development, nothing learned. Plus, if Will is already in full acceptance of M!leven endgame…what’s next seaon's alleged rejection going to do/change? Nothing, Will’s feelings aren’t dependent on Mike reciprocating as has been shown, so the only purpose would be rubbing salt in the wound. And again, you end up with not an arc but a flat, depressing line. Will likes Mike, knows it's hopeless, has it painfully reaffirmed that yes it is hopeless, and then fizzle. If you know stories you know this makes zero sense, and therefore is not happening 👍

[bbybhr]

Watching the stars with old man logan

A little drabble that Seriously is the fluffiest fluff that ever fuffed in my mind so enjoy

He will grunt and frown at the suggestion,saying he's too tired to engage in this kind of movie romance shit, but he will come with you. he never misses a chance to see the same old things through your heart shaped glasses. the same things he saw thousands of times, for decades and decades. things that he doesn't find amusing anymore, but with you anything feels new, so the hell with his aching bones.

You will pick the blankets, the fluffiest ones of course, same with the little pillows and you pick your favourite snacks also (his favourite snack is tasting your favourite of your tongue anyway) He'll carry everything you picked and prepared to the rooftop. laying one blanket on the ground so you can sit and be his muse.

After he finally sitted and placed the pillow in a comfortable way he gestures to you, already sitting and looking up at stars with awe.

"Come'ere princesses"

You lay on your back, his arms beneath your head like a pillow and his hand drawing shapes on your arm, you'll take a deep breath welcoming the cold air of the night in your lungs , your eyes flickering in admiration of the clear night... his eyes however didn't look up not for a second just looking down at you in his arms with lots of thoughts wondering around his mind, and he didn't miss how the voices and the uncomfortable fog of nightmare disappeared as soon as he had you this close.

He held you in his arms safe and secure, with your bright starry eyes. and he felt calm, the star sure weren't anything near new but this sensation definitely was. there was no worry, no war, even no pain anymore when he held you like this.

"Beautiful"

He murmured at you, so drown at every little detail in your face. every reflection of stars in the sky that he saw in your eyes enlighten somewhere in his heart that darkened over his long life. and how you smiled slightly didn't hide from his lingering eyes, making his own smile appear.

"I know isn't it? And you wanted to stay at home"

You voiced without looking at him.

"I am home"

He replied matter-of-factly pulling you a little closer to himself and laying the blanket on you afterwards. Everything was quiet, only the sound of your breath could've been heard. Although for logan and his hightene sense it was more...a harmony of your heartbeat and breathing. Until you broke the silence with an excited voice.

"Oh my god...make a wish make a wish"

You suddenly stated as you closed your eyes quickly, going through a lot of little things that you wanted to do, and a lot of them consists you and logan.

"Why?"

He asked confused, looking around for a second to make sure there isn't anything that you would mistake for a magic elf or something.

"didn't you saw the shooting star?"

You questioned while your eyes still closed trying not to miss anything in your list.

"What about it?"

He looked at you again, so kissable he thought.

"If you wish upon it it'll come true...now let me make my wish"

You dismissed him.

only thing he wanted most right now was for you to show those starfull gaze again... and you eventually did.

"What did ya wish for kid?"

"I can't say they won't come true that way"

His eyebrows raised.

"They, huh?a lot of labor for that poor passer"

You turned and looked up to him.

"So you just made one?"

He smiled slightly and grabbed your chin, tilting your head more towards himself, thumb coming up and caressing your bottom lip.

"No...I didn't need any darlin"

He kissed you softly afterwards, not rushed or breath taking...a kiss that has the spark of a wish come true...

[molter-writes]

pleeeasssee miller i know you let the work stand on it's own but please tell us jsut a tad bit more about the valyerian sex magic!!!!

i meannnn

on valyrian sex magic

i am not the person to ask for the true asoiaf lore, of course; but there is obviously a pervasive source of magic across Planetos — accessible by many cultures in many different forms — and the "flavour" of the magic of each is very much a reflection, i think, of what GRRM wants us to glean about each. the Starks are themselves effectively the oldest singular consistent human organisation, if you will, that we actually meet in the books, and their magic is extremely rudimentary and primordial—they turn into animals and talk to trees. It's giving primordial man, it's giving Lucy—humanity as a symbiotic participant in (rather than an editor of) the natural world.

fast forward almost five thousand years: the valyrians are not tree hugging hunter-gatherers. they are the roman empire if the roman empire were composed of evil wizards. Their magic is dark, rooted in blood and fire—it was a tool of mind control, of asymmetric warfare, of wroth destruction. It required blood sacrifice and whips and horns and knives. It mated slave women to animals to produce grotesque chimeras. The entire thing is about the subjugation, not the embrace, of nature. Obviously until we have WoW or (lol) aDoS, we won't know—and maybe not even then—but the best prevailing theory in my view is that blood of the dragon is literal. Planetos has wyverns and, more importantly, firewyrms (flightless, firebreathing lizards) that the Valyrians almost certainly combined with human beings in some ritualistic hellcurse to produce the first dragons. this explains (1) the psychogenic bond between rider and dragon; (2) why nobody without valyrian blood can ride one; (3) the decline of the dragons correlating near-perfectly with the Andalisation (read: de-magifying) of the Targaryens; and perhaps most importantly, (4) why an animal that can fly hundreds of miles in a day would for some reason be found only on a single small isle in some random corner of a massive content that has volcanos and mountains and hot weather elsewhere. only one culture having dragons is like only one airport having planes.

much like the american NRA often asserts about guns, dragons are something of a sexual equaliser. part of why rhaenyra is so much freer than alicent when they're young is not merely because of her elevated social station (which is a principal part of it, yes) but also because she is in sole possession of one of the only six nukes in the world. At fifteen Rhaenyra possesses the power to go burn Riverrun to its foundation. I mean, if you thought Daenerys had firepower—regardless of D&D's absolute boneheaded visual mistakes in the show—Syrax is bigger than Drogon.

in any case i digress; i bring this up to make the point that while we do know valyria was a patriarchy of sorts, you can imagine a world in which a valyrian noble house would be headed (on occasion) by a woman because she is the most powerful imperial military leader because she is in command of the largest dragon. as a result, you can imagine a culture that embraces less patriarchal sexual and gender politics than do the Andals, and when take this inference a step further with the chimeras and the dragon-making and all the other frankensteinian blood magic, i just don't think it's that much of a leap to imagine that some dragon-wielding all-powerful female ruthless blood wizard in ancient Valyria decided—based on blood purity or necessity or ego or whatever—to impregnate some other woman. some maesters recorded that dragons appeared to change their sex—becoming able and unable to lay and fertilise eggs. Anyway, I just don't put genderbending and fempreg past the people who—if the theory is right—invented fucking dragons. It seems easier to do magic pregnancy than to do dragons. idk. melisandre gave birth to a shadow. nearly every ancient tradition on the planet can explore the miracle of virgin conception but we can't have lesbo baby?? why?? thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[penumbra-mayhem]

How to Trap an Alpha

— Asher & David & Angel Fic

This takes place about a month after the Inversion. It def goes against canon; I'm making everyone's response to the Inversion far worse (especially David, in this he didn't talk about the Inversion with Angel after it happened. Also I hc Angel as a transwoman, so expect she/her thx.)

Hope yall enjoy <3

TW: gore, panic attack, verbal fighting, grief, PTSD, flashbacks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Asher’s third mistake this week—and his biggest. It had cost David one of the few security gigs he'd managed to book since the Inversion, and David could only chalk it up to pure negligence. He called Asher into his home office; the sight of him sparked panic in David, but he swallowed it and growled:

“This is unacceptable, Asher.”

“I know,” Asher replied, wincing at the aggression in David’s voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it. You know how badly we needed this gig.”

“I forgot—”

“—you forgot,” David scoffed, “You need to do better, Asher. I'm relying on you. The pack is relying on you. If they don’t get work, they can’t pay their rent or groceries or medical bills—”

“—I’m trying, okay?”

“Well you’re clearly not trying hard enough.”

“Yes, I am. Your standards are just ridiculously high.”

“You’re the pack beta. My standards have to be high.”

“Well can you lower them a bit?”

“I’m not going to coddle you, Asher."

"I'm not asking you to coddle me, but I tried talking to you last week—"

"—and I told you to deal with it. I trusted that you would."

"You wouldn't listen to me! Ever since the Inversion you've been practically unreachable. I've been trying to tell y—"

"—I don't have the time, Asher. I have responsibilities. I have people to take care of. I'm the alpha of this pack!"

“You’re not just the fucking alpha!” Asher barked.

David glared at him, “What?”

“Could you stop being my alpha for one goddamn moment and just be my friend,” Asher pleaded, "I know you're not doing well. How could you? How could any of us? I’ve tried checking up on you so many times the past couple weeks. You just keep ignoring me. And not once—” he gasped, his chest tightening, “—not once have you checked on me.”

Images flashes in David's mind at the sound of Asher struggling to breathe: Asher's mauled chest—the layers and layers of exposed skin and bubbly fat, heaving and stretching as he fought for air. Crimson sludge pulsing out of him with each beat of his racing heart.

Asher’s gasped in between words, “I know you want to b-be strong for everyone, but sometimes your strength just c-comes off as indifference. I-I miss my friend! I need my friend. Not my alpha. Fuck, I didn’t know l-losing Gabe would mean losing you too.”

Gabe. It always came back down to Gabe. David balled his fists tight. He’d never escape his father’s death. Never step out from his shadow. He tried so hard to be like his father, and yet everything he did seemed to be the antithesis to what Gabe would do. He wasn’t his father. He never would be. Everyone knew that. Everyone doubted him. And now the one person who’d always had his back was losing faith too.

David stared as Asher backed up against the wall of his office, shaking and hyperventilating. Gabe wouldn’t have let him get to this point. Especially after what he just went through. He would’ve checked on him. He would’ve cared.

Asher's face rapidly losing saturation, so contorted with pain that he looked monstrous. No sense of recognition when he looked up at David. Just pain and fear. It was a look David had never seen on Asher before.

Asher spluttered, “I-I don’t think I can d-do this…fuck, I f-feel like I’m going to p-pass out.”

Gabe knew how to respond to tragedy. He knew how to compartmentalize. He knew how to be a leader and a friend and a father. Gabe knew what to do, always. David didn’t. David didn't know anything. He tried to think of how Gabe would've helped Asher and came up empty. Every day it was like the memory of his father faded a bit more. How could he emulate someone he was slowly forgetting?

And if Asher died, would the same thing happen? Would David lose bits of him? His voice? His laugh? His smile?

Asher was a whimpering, gasping ball on the floor of David's office. He clawed at his own chest, mentally trapped somewhere between the past and the present. David felt the same.

Trying desperately to heal Asher. Asher's core clawing at David's, like someone drowning seeking anything to hold. David's core grasping at Asher's as it slipped away like smoke.

I should leave, David thought, panic squeezing his throat, I should call his mate and let them handle it. They're better at this. Asher's better at this. Ash would know what to do. Dad would know what to do. I don't. I can't. I'm frozen. I jus—

Knock knock knock.

"Hey, David, is everything..." Angel asked quietly as she cracked open the door. Her face fell as she saw the look in David’s eyes, and then Asher on the floor to her right.

"What the fuck? David? David?" Angel sputtered, rushing in. Getting no response from her mate, she crouched down in front of Asher, "Ash, sweetie, what's going on? Are you hurt?"

"C-can't breathe. C-can't..." Asher managed.

Angel whipped her head to look up at David, "What the hell happened?"

"I...I..." David muttered before looking away.

She turned her attention back at Asher, murmuring, "Ash, you think you make it to the living room?"

Asher gave a slight nod. He swayed as Angel helped him up; the feeling brought on a whole new wave of panic, causing him to whimper and grip Angel hard.

"It's okay. It's okay, I've got you. Just a little trip down the hallway, and I'll get you some water, maybe some ice, and we'll get that breathing slow again. It's okay, you're safe, I've got you..." Angel cooed, her voice fading as the two made their way to the living room.

Leaving Ash lying in the Underground. Wondering if he'd ever see him again. The ice-cold fear that it hadn't been enough. That the healing hadn't been enough to save him. That he'd die down there, alone. That he'd abandoned his best friend.

David's head spun. The panic he felt whenever he was with Asher was the same panic he felt whenever Asher left. He couldn't escape. David leaned against his desk as images flooded his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About twenty minutes later, Angel appeared in the doorway. David's eyes shot up, red and glassy.

"I managed to calm him down a bit. His mate came and picked him up. They're on their way home now, I expect," Angel said, her voice tight.

"Good," David croaked.

Silence fell for a moment.

"What happened?" Angel asked.

David grumbled dismissively, “He lost us the Devlin gig."

"I already knew that. That's not what I'm talking about."

"It was just a panic attack. He's fine," David hissed.

Angel gaped, "What? What the fuck is wrong with you?""

"Oh fuck off." David growled.

Washing Asher's blood off himself in his bathroom sink. Angel offering to help. Telling her to go away.

"No!" Angel shouted, advancing towards him, "No, you do not get to tell me to fuck off. Not after I just helped your best friend off the fucking floor while you stood there and did nothing."

Gabe would have done something. Gabe would be so disappointed.

Angel lowered her volume, but kept the bite in her voice, "Look, I understand you're struggling, David. I don't need you to tell me that for me to see it. But that doesn't mean you get to be cruel. No more shutting me out. Now talk. What happened?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He felt his body instinctively fight the urge to keep from crying. Gabe used to let himself cry in front of people. Why couldn't David?

Angel ran a hand over her face, muttering, "Alright. Fine. I'm leaving."

Pack members sprinting. Splitting up. Leaving his line of sight. Leaving him.

She turned to walk out, and David heard the words before he even realized he was saying them, "I can't stop seeing him. How he was. Asher. On the ground, bleeding out. Every time I look at him, that's all I see."

Angel stopped, but didn't turn back around.

The words came rushing out like a flood. Like blood from an open chest. "I can't escape. Everywhere I look, there's something or someone that reminds me of that night. Something that sends my mind back there and then I have to claw my way back to the present, every time."

Angel faced him, biting her lip and furrowing her brow. David could feel tears burning his eyes, but he couldn't let them fall.

"I don't know how to handle this. All those fucking people, just...gone...I don't know how to be a leader after something like that. I'm doing everything wrong. I'm somehow pushing everyone away and yet not far enough, apparently, cause I'm still hurting people when I lash out. I'm hurting you. I'm hurting Ash. I'm hurting the pack. And-and..." David choked, "...and I just keep thinking how the only good thing about my dad being dead is he doesn't have to watch me as I destroy everything he built."

"No," Angel insisted, shaking her head as she walked back to him, "You're not destroying everything."

"I am, Angel," David cried out, his voice small. Tears clung to the edges of his eyes.

"No," she repeated, her hands resting on his hips, "you're not."

David let Angel pull him into her. He let her arms wrap around him. Let her shoulder hold his head as he began to cry. Finally. For the first time since that night.

His tears falling on Asher's face. The Shades and the screams so loud he could barely hear his own sobbing.

"Here's what we're going to do," Angel whispered, "We're going sit on our bed. I'm going to get you some water. We're going to talk. Afterwards, we're going to get some food. Maybe go for a drive, talk some more. And when he's ready, you're going to talk to Ash. Okay?"

It was a page right out of Gabe's book, and it took David aback for a moment. He almost kept the thought to himself. Almost.

"My dad would've said that," David mumbled into Angel's shoulder, “What you said, just now.”

“Yeah?”

David nodded.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. Makes me feel...steady," David assured her.

Angel pressed a small kiss to his temple and murmured, "I'm glad. Now come on, let's go talk."

[a-fic-reviewer-757]

the cost of being a good dad:

by: Mawiiish | word count : 96,533 | AO3 | chapters: 10/10 | rating : Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:

Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all tired of watching Bruce struggle with the stress of trying to handle the newly formed Justice League. He needs an outlet, he needs to relax, he needs to get out of the house, he needs... he needs to start dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

--

“Excuse me, I don’t know who you think I am, but I think there’s been a mistake.”

“Bruce, right?” the guy says, albeit less confidently this time. He looks slightly concerned and if Bruce is not mistaken… a tad embarrassed. “Bruce Wayne? You look just like your pictures.”

“My pictures?” Something finally clicks in Bruce’s mind, and he takes a small step back and plasters a smile on his face as to not rouse suspicion. Stalker. “Ah, of course, I’m sorry but I’m late for an appointment.”

Tags :

superbat - Freeform l Online Dating l Catfishing l Blind Datebat boys wanting their dad to be happy l Flirting l Bickering l Bad Pick-Up Lines l the boys are menaces l Bruce Wayne is So Done l Bruce Wayne is tired l Clark Kent is being catfished l Misunderstandings l POV Multiple l Getting Together l Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence l Dialogue Heavy l there's a lot of bat family dynamics as wellI l Identity Porn l Identity Reveal l Angst with a Happy Ending l Hurt Bruce Wayne l emotional and physical Hurt Bruce Wayne l Jason Todd Feels l First Kiss l Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings

Review : 💜💜💜💜💜

Frankly, I have to say this is one of the funniest fics I've read in a while — what a way to start the year with a bang! Superbat is one of my favorite couples, but it's rare for me to find a fic where I truly enjoy how both characters are portrayed. This one nailed it. The story captures their nuances perfectly — Clark’s gentleness and kindness tempered by his immense alien strength, and Bruce’s struggles with self-image and paranoia. The balance between them felt authentic and compelling. The fic had its highs and it s even higher moments, and the ending didn’t feel forced at all, which is such a win in my books. The sequel is also fantastic, and I’m waiting with so much anticipation to see if the author writes more in this universe. I know I’d absolutely love it. With the recent surge in Superbat content, this is a fic I’d definitely recommend to any fan of the ship.

[alexa-fika]

The apprentice’s apprentice (Chp 1)

Lesson 1:Don’t Anger The Captain

Prologue

A/N Omg guys I have been wanting to start actually doing series for a bit and I decided to start with this one! I ‘m still deciding if I want to do more than one series at the same time since I ‘m still backed up on requests but I am really exited for this project!!!

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers alike!

Most Grammar mistakes here are in purpose to better portray Dokucha/reader’s age and if they are not 🤫

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“Dokucha, don’t go far. We don’t know what’s on this island.” 

“Oey Ayeigh!” Dokucha responded with a skip on their step as they hurried off, excited at the promise of new land to survey and explore

“There they go again; I swear it’s like talking to a wall!” Rayleigh grumbled as he made his way down the slipway

“Wahahaha! Don’t worry so much, Ray! They will be fine, let them be a kid.” Roger laughed, not far behind his first mate. 

“You’re too soft on them, Roger, you leave them be, and next thing you know, they will be bickering over nonsense like those two!”

“H-Hey!” Buggy protested, a frown painting his face at the accusation 

“Dahahah!”

“What are you laughing at, idiot? He means you, too!”

“What did you say?!” 

“You two better not start squabbling!” Rayleigh snapped, rolling his eyes as the two were quick to look away from each other in a petty display

“But Rayleigh, you also cuddle them!” Buggy accused as he pointed at the man, letting out a yowl as his comment got him a fist on his head

“Serves you right!” Shanks snickers

“Regardless, what are you trying to do here, Roger? Even if Whitebeard was spotted around here, what makes you think he will come here? Are you just going to wait for someone you don’t know will come?” Gaban questioned, joining his crewmates

“He will come! I am sure of it!” The Captain proudly stated

“You don’t know that, Roger,” Rayleigh sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at his Captain’s antics.

Meanwhile, Dokucha made themselves to the edge of islands some ways away from where the Oro Jackson had anchored. Within minutes, they let out a grin as they had found what they had hoped to find: plant life.

Despite their young age, Dokucha had begun to show interest in plants. Initially, it had begun as a simple attraction to the vivid colors and different shapes, just as many kids their age. However, upon learning from Crocus that plants could be used to treat people in different inflictions, they had found themselves trying to learn all they could about plants, always asking their uncles and brothers to read them books regarding the topic, although still unable to read thanks to this help they had become able to identify a small array of plants and were always on the lookout for plants they could show the crew, happy to show off these skills.

Happy with their find and current stash, they picked themselves up, ready to make their way back to their family. However, they stopped at the sight of something off the coast, which urged them to make haste back to the crew.

-

“Capi!” They called as they ran towards the man, stumbling in their hurry to reach them and deliver the news

“Ah!” They cried, extending their hands to protect themselves, closing their eyes tightly in preparation for the fall, only for another pair of arms to slide under their shoulders to hold them up; confused by the lack of movement, they slowly opened their eyes, catching sight of two dismembered hands holding onto them

“Dokucha! Be careful!” Buggy scolded as he willed his hands to return to his body, bringing with them the child

“Sorry” 

“What were you in such a hurry for anyways?” Rayleigh cut in

“I saw maenes!”

“Manes?” He questioned

“No maines!” They corrected him

“Mains?” He tried

“No!” They cried. Rayleigh gave his crew a glance, silently asking for some help.

“What was it?” Buggy asked as the child turned to them

“Maines!”

“M-arines?” He questioned with a cry

“Yeah!” 

“Oh!! Now, this is perfect timing! We have something to kill the time while we wait for Whitebeard!” Roger boomed, a childish gleam escaping him as he spoke.

“Now then!” He started grabbing Dokucha from Buggy’s arms.

“Think you can take us to where you saw them?” He called with a grin as he put his hat on the child

“Yes! Capi!” Dokucha called excited at the prospect of leading the crew to their objective. They saluted the man as he placed them down and scurried their way to the field, not bothering to look behind them as they did.

Skidding to a stop as they arrived on the coast, they spun around, ready to announce their arrival, only to notice the crew had lagged behind. Most likely still talking amongst themselves as they slowly followed behind them.

“Awe, they’re slow!” They complained, their frown turning around as they felt their presence behind them, spinning around once again

“Capi, I beat yo…..” they paused, eyes widening at the men before them their ship and it's goverment symbol right behind them.

“Huh? Why is there a kid here?” The marine questioned

“They’re probably from a nearby village; civilians are quite nosy these days,” a nearby marine said, sending a disapproving frown at the child.

“Now hurry along, brat. The grownups have work to do,” they drawled, watching as the kid slowly backed away from them, stumbling once again. With no one to catch them, they fell to the ground, losing the hat that previously dwarfed them. They scrambled to take hold of it until one of the marines took it instead.

“Wait. This symbol….it’s the Roger pirates Jolly Roger!” The marine called at who Dokucha could only guess to be a commander

“So this brat is one of them?!” He growled, unsheathing his sword

“Go easy on them; they’re just a kid!” one of the soldiers called, though their tone did not offer any reassurance; instead, it was filled with mockery that unsettled the child.

“It’s better to pluck the weed before it becomes an invasion!” He exclaimed, raising his sword and swinging it down on the child 

‘Help!’ 

“W-What the hell?!” The marine cried, urging Dokucha to open their eyes in time to watch as screaming and wailing began escaping the ship as their mast came barreling down on them. Marines soon began to abandon the ship as a huge slash hit the side of the boat with a resounding boom, smoke, and fire following suit; they watched as the cut rapidly capsized the vessel as water poured in.

“I was looking for some fun, but it looks like you lads came looking for trouble; since you saw it reasonable to cut down one of my apprentices, I see it totally reasonable to cut down each of you, yes?” A voice seethed behind them. Had Dokucha not recognized the voice, they would have followed the marine’s actions as they, one by one, began to drop their weapons and attempted to run away, most of them not making it as far as an overwhelming force reached them, causing them to crumple down.

“Dokucha! Come on, we have to get out of the way!” Buggy cried as he scooped them up.

“Why? Capi is here!” They questioned, watching as they started making distance from said man, noticing how the rest of the crew had done the same

“Why is everyone over here?” 

“Listen, Dokucha! You don’t want to be close to the Captain when he gets angry. You don’t anger the Captain and get away with it!”

Dokucha observed the battlefield, kicking their legs as they took the scene in. Buggy’s words turned out to be nothing short of true, as all of the crew let the Captain handle things as he mercilessly massacred the whole brigade, staining the field with red with each cut until there was nothing more to cut, and it was only then that he appeared somewhat satisfied as he sheathed his sword, shaking it dry from the blood trickling from it. 

He leisurely approached one of the few surviving marines and lifted the man until he was on his knees, held up by the scruff of his shirt, his consciousness slipping away.

“You should have brought Sengoku or Garp with you! You guys are no fun,” he called mockingly. Dokucha watched as the Captain continued to taunt him with various words, turning her sight to Shanks. Now wearing the hat the marines had grabbed, he crouched on a fallen marine as he ate the marine’s food happily; at the feeling of being watched, he looked up, grinning at Dokucha.

“You okay, Dokucha?” He called

“Y-yeah!” They sputtered out, getting nervous as the teen furrowed his eyebrows at their words as he continued to watch them.

“Shans?” 

“Hey, you did well back there! Good job in spotting the marines. I ‘ll be sure to give you a treat when we’re done, okay?” He promised as he waved the chocolate in his hands, watching as they beamed at the praise and nodded their head vigorously, stopping at the squeak their brother behind them let out.

“Buggie?”

“It-it’s the Whitebeard pirates!”

Please let me know what you guys think about this one!! Again I am so exited for this!! I ‘ve got a whole draft if the whole thing going and everything 😂

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[ultimate-marysue]

Identity drama but it's not Bruce "I am the cowl" Wayne or any of the angsty edgy kids either. Identity drama but it's Dick Grayson not recognizing himself in other people's eyes.

His family idolizes him to an unhealthy extreme. Most of his siblings are obsessed with him, look up to him, think he can do no wrong. He's Bruce's golden boy, the first boy wonder, always perfect despite never having been like that in his time as Robin.

Most of the Hero community treats him like the second coming of Jesus, like the absolute peak of what a vigilante should be. They talk about him like he's some sort of legend instead of a human being doing his best. It's flattering, but he isn't as awe inspiring.

Plenty of rogues and civilian friends see him as a himbo. The list of people genuinely and wholeheartedly thirsting over him like he's a slab of meat is concerning. Sure, he knows he's hot, he enjoys flirting. It's fun, but that's not his entire personality. People can get really weird about that kind of stuff, because sure, it's one thing to wink or wolf whistle and another to get weirdly parasocial.

Dick Grayson that gets back to Titan's Tower or to the Clocktower, back to his actual peers the people who have seen him grow up, and finally finds himself there. In Babs sarcastic comments or Kori's playful banter. In Wally's concerned look or Roy's teasing.

They have seen him at his worst: stupid, cocky, jealous, paranoid, rude, edgy, depressed... They don't fawn over his perceived virtues. His friends know he's a great vigilante, they trust him as their leader and value his competency... And yet they know he can make mistakes. They trust their own abilities, and they know Dick does as well. They see each other as equals and thus, there's no pedestal to put him on.

They know he's handsome, they might have had an embarrassing crush at some point, but his attractiveness doesn't change anything. They're used to it, they might joke about it, but they've grown up together: it's not a big deal.

Babs and the Titans know he likes to be silly, to flirt and joke in order to keep things lighthearted. They also know that's all it is: something he likes to play with. Dick is a brilliant strategist, and he's a hopeless romantic who prefers to date rather than fuck around. They know he's taking things seriously even as he tries to diffuse the tension.

When Dick comes back from a call with Tim and gives Roy a very thoughtful and introspective advice, the other man just (lightly) bonks him in the head and tells him to drop it. When he's coming back from patrol, all jokes and witty one liners, Babs just snorts and gives him permission to stop the performance Circus Boy. When he's acting all suave and seductive, Kory giggles and gives him a little kiss. "You know you don't have to do that with me!" And Dick just melts into her. "Dude it's just me!" Is Wally's way of getting Dick to stop bearing around the bush and just bitch to him about whatever's bothering him. Donna only needs one look, and her friend's dropping the hero posture, looking like an actual human being.

Dick is a performer, and he plays many parts in order to be the best hero, the best sibling he can be. Sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it, sometimes it's hard to take off the mask. Sometimes people talk about him and he's not sure who this person is. Sometimes he thinks he might be trapped in these personas. Lucky for him, his friends are there to remind him of who he is.

[lolitastories]

Ocean blue

Rafe Cameron

As I stood one step behind Rafe and our daughter, I felt like their bodyguard. He always wanted to have her in his arms. He didn’t feel the need to use her stroller, so it always stayed in the trunk. He would look back every so often to make sure I was close by but most importantly, he made sure to catch every moment, expression, or action from our daughter. “Don’t get her too close to the glass” I warned. But just as I said it he squatted down with her close enough to touch the glass. He grins back at me before turning to see our daughter so fazed with the creature in front of her. I step back taking a seat on the wooden bench and just watch those two.

“Can you imagine them living amongst dinosaurs?” My head snaps to my right as a man takes the seat beside me. “Of course they developed over the years but it's incredible to think of how far back they go.”

“And now you have them here” I plainly point towards the glass. “Living behind a glass where people pay to come and see them.” The guy laughs shaking his head.

“If you think they deserve better, why come see them?”

“Call me a hypocrite,” I smile. “I like to think these places are made up of animals we have helped. Maybe that small turtle was saved and would never be able survive out there in the wild.”

“A nice way to see things,” He lets out a sigh. “But still pessimistic?”

“Oh yes” I laugh. “It’s second nature to me. People can be so deceiving that it's easier to never truly put your trust on someone.”

“Talking from experience?” I turn my head to look at him. My smile turned into a bit of a frown. His mood shifted really quickly, noticing my change. “You seem like a person who believes in second chances?”

“I believe things can be made right, but I also believe a person should know their value. Trust should be sacred. If you decide to trust someone it could either make you noble or a fool for falling for the same trick twice.”

“And you don’t want to make that mistake twice because you’re scared of the pain?” I shake my head letting out a quick laugh. “In my books it doesn’t make you a fool to trust again, it simply means you are a human with a big heart.”

“Guess we just differ in opinions.” He smiles nodding along.

“We should meet up to see if that is true, maybe in a couple of years it will be the same?” I look over feeling my smile die down. I take a deep breath ready to respond when someone cuts me off.

“I think not.” Our heads turn to see Rafe standing there. “Our daughter wants to visit the shop.” His eyes rolled over to mine. Dead expression on his face.

“I don’t mean to cause any trouble-”

“Then walk away.” I gasp at Rafe's response. I was about to grab his hand and pull him away when he turned towards me and handed over our daughter. As I adjusted her in my arms I am faced with his back.

“I-” I see the man stretch to the side with pleading eyes to look at me but of course Rafe blocks him. He moves forward with each hand grabbing a fist full of the man's collar.

“Look dude. I am trying to have a nice day with my family and you are ruining it. You are some creepy guy who comes to places like these alone to what? Pry on women hoping they give you some attention?”

“Rafe stop.” I demanded placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Look man I just saw her sitting there and she looked a bit down,” What? I looked down? People said I have a resting bitch face but I didn’t know it made me look depressed, what the fuck.

“Your mistake.” Rafe continues. “Now that I am here you can move along and bother someone else, this one is mine.” He lets him go with a little shove. I stay quiet knowing and hoping it won’t escalate. The man fixes his shirt and with a last glance towards me he walks away.

“Seriously?” I say watching Rafe walk to where I was standing. “You didn’t have to do all of that.” He doesn’t respond. He simply takes a hold of my hand and begins to drag me somewhere. “Rafe,” I say a little louder trying to get his attention. He swiftly dragged us between the crowd until we stopped in front of the family bathroom.

“In.” He opened the door and motioned for me to get in but I just stood there. I raised one brow thinking how crazy he was acting and childish. “Can you please get in?” I rolled my eyes and got in. I shake away the small grin knowing it wasn’t the time to acknowledge his cute plea. I wait for him to close the door and lock it. “I heard you two talking.”

“Rafe you know I wouldn’t-”

“I wasn’t talking about him.” He stays put in the doorway. I search his eyes for any clue, until it hits me. “Are you ever going to trust me?” His voice was almost a whisper. “You don’t say it but I know the reason for you breaking up with me and putting me on trial to be in our daughter's life was because of my past.” I was left speechless. My cheeks were burning and my bones were aching to just touch him. I saw how pain flashed in his eyes but I couldn’t find the words. “You would have hated who I was back then and who’s to say I won’t go back to being that person again. My father was a bad man but I loved him.” His last word made his voice crack. “I don’t want her to live through that and hate me,” His head falls down but I notice a small tear rolling down his cheek. “I don’t want to live knowing you always have a foot out the door.” That's when he broke down into a cry.

“Rafe,” I swallowed the pain in my throat and walked over to him. I grabbed his hand and led him to the single couch in the room. “Look at me Rafe.” I kneel in front of him. I lifted his chin a bit to search for his eyes. Once I saw his eyes focus on me I moved our daughter to his lap. “I can’t tell you that it didn’t play a part in my decision because it did.” His chest was breathing heavily. “But it didn’t make me stop trusting you, ever.” Both of my hands were holding his cheeks making sure he didn’t look away. I move my thumbs to clear up the remainder of his tears. “Baby I fell in love with the man you became after so much pain. You did that on your own before we met and after seeing you become a father, I know you won’t ever do anything to make her and I hate you.”

“But you don’t even look at me the same.” I grinned hearing his childlike whine. I move closer between his legs.

“I don’t look at you the same because you keep changing on me for the better.” I begin to smile bigger. “I fell in love with a 20 year old boy who was building a life for himself. Then again as a 24 year old man who became the father to our little girl. Now I have a chance to see what kind of person you will become as we grow older together but trust me, the only change you see in my eyes is how my love just keeps getting bigger and bigger for you.” I lift my head giving him a quick kiss. “Those blue eyes have become my favorite blues to see.”

“Not the ocean?” He says quietly.

“No, ocean blue doesn’t even come close.” He nods softly before fixing his down posture. “Are you okay?” He flickered his eyes down towards me as he nodded. But when I tried to get up with one hand he kept me from standing up. He leans forward and as I try to pull away but his free hand moves from my shoulder to the back of my head.

“You need to be more careful when talking to strangers,” What am I, 10?. “I held back because our daughter was nearby, but don’t go making friends with strangers, especially men.” I roll my eyes as I let out a chuckle. “You two are mine to protect.” I move forward resting my forehead against his.

“She is ours to protect,” I say challengingly. His piercing eyes don’t change showing how he was not amused with my answer. “I won’t do it again.” I groaned, pulling away from him. “Can I get up now? My knees are killing me”

“I don’t know why. You have always been good on your knees.” I scoff pushing him away.

“You're an idiot.” I hear him laugh as I pick myself up. “Now let's go because there is an otter plushie that has my name on it.” I hear the couch creek as he stands and walks over to the door. I turn around to face Rafe, one hand on the handle behind my back as he stares down at me. “I love you so much.” I whisper quietly and slowly. His eyes move to my right and then the left a couple of times. “Don’t forget it.” I simply state. I turn and push the door open but his hand grips mine and pulls it close. His face right beside me ear,

“Woman if I didn’t have my daughter in my arms right now I would fuck you against this very door. Don’t go saying things like that when I can’t do anything about it.” He takes a step back allowing me to focus back on opening the door. I tried to swallow but my mouth was left dry. Of course Rafe was enjoying it. He wrapped his free arm around my neck and led us to the shop with a grin on his face.

“Fuck the store” I stop in my tracks. Shivers were literally circulating around my body.

“What?” Is he stupid?

“We can come tomorrow to get her a stuffed animal. Let's go home. She needs to nap.” I didn’t care how desperate I looked or sounded. I needed Rafe. These people should be grateful I have enough self restraint to hold myself back but it wouldn’t be for long.

“What about the otter-?”

“Fuck the otter Rafe.” I looked around a little embarrassed as I spoke a little too loudly. I walked closer making sure no one was going to hear me. “I am giving you a chance to go home and fuck me Rafe.” His eyes widened. “You can fuck me until you put another baby in me. I need you,” I look up with pleading eyes hoping to get him on the same page.

“Yes ma’am.” And with Rafe, it didn’t take much.

[thepoetballerina]

¡LA LEY DE ASUNCIÓN ES LA CLAVE PARA CAMBIAR REALIDADES! ★

I ALMOST SHIFTED LAST NIGHT OMGGG

Lately I have been reading about the law of assumption being helpful in shifting.

Personally I am a firm believer in that as I have used the law of assumption on quite a few occasions and this time I said to myself: Okay, why not try it?

I convinced myself that I am capable of shifting since I have been shifting for 4 years (although I have been shifting since I was little) and the only times I have successfully shifted is by going to alternate realities.

So, considering that whenever I tried shifting I WAS VERY CLOSE TO GETTING TO MY DR or I just traveled to a reality by mistake.

That counts as an achievement doesn't it?

I mean, I haven't made it to my DR yet but I've been close and thanks to the experiences I've had with shifting I know it's real.

So that's what I did:

I was counting from 1- 100 and I remembered the Law of Assumption and that it can be used for shifting. Then I said: “At this very moment I am in my RD of Interview with the Vampire” (I said it with Conviction and I was sure it was going to work).

« I've said it many times over and over again »

AND I STARTED TO HAVE SYMPTOMS AHHHH

I started to see a light THAT WAS BLINDING ME, MY BODY STARTED TO DROP OF NOTHING, I VISUALIZED LESTAT (my s/o) AND I STARTED TO FEEL LIKE MY HEAD WAS BEING TOUCHED.

ALL THAT HAPPENED IN A MATTER OF SECONDS AJHHHHHHHHHHHH

I'm still shocked about it happened in a INSTANT!

I also noticed that the atmosphere changed and I don't know why it smelled like male cologne (in my script I said that my room was going to smell like strawberry).

I didn't shift because I couldn't fall asleep (I think I needed to relax more).

IF YOU'RE DOUBTING OF YOURSELF OR IF SHIFTING IS REAL OR NOT, LET ME TELL YOU:

SHIFTING IS REAL OMG!!! ★

And I hope that helped you if you were doubting about shifting, law of assumption or about yourself.

Also, sorry for my bad english (is not my native language).

And I hope this helped you if you were doubting about shifting, law of assumption or about yourself.

HAPPY SHIFTING TO ALL AND REMEMBER BELIEVE IN YOURSELF!

BYE.

[bowandbrush]

Now that 2024 has come to a close:

1) Of everything you've made this past year, which ones are you the most proud of?

2) What are a few of your favorite things (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

I’m not sure what I am most proud of, but I love working on my own story, which, I’m yet to even start. I did post comics for it, but I was burnt out and very dissatisfied with how they came out and how inconsistent they were. (Also, I found a big spelling mistake, and I can never forgive myself for that) so I’m redoing it in a different form, time to time when I can. I’m pleased with the story and the characters I get to reintroduce into rise.

This might be my favorite drawn piece this year. I was ecstatic when I found out we’d be getting an official rise comic.

as for my favorite projects? That’s even harder. I’m sure I’m forgetting a lot-

This snow day comic by @/classy-thief absolutely beautiful, I’m in love with the coloring!

@/wickcipher’s you’ve been portal jacked comic is another amazing one. I love the story, and it feels very unique and canon.

@/theelvishfiddler’s here there be turtles is PHENOMENAL. If I was any newer to this fandom I’d think it was an official comic!

@a-simple-gremlin’s fic Synergy is amazing! It has an amazing story and is written very well. It’s a great distaster twin story- lots of hurt, goofy moments, and it’s extremely wholesome.

@/boxfullaturtles’s adagio in green is a devastatingly great fic, it hurts so much when reading it and I love it. It has so much insight into the hidden city, and there’s so many returning characters from past iterations, and new faces we haven’t seen before!

@trilobitepunch’s art in general always brings a smile to my face. Their art is amazing, traditional (beautiful) and wholesome. I love the style. Trilo made a stamp and made a bag with the distaster twins on it, and I can’t stop thinking about it!!! of course, I read @/intotheelliwoods’s comic 2 arms left. It did break me, don’t let the wholesome pastel art style fool you.

@exhaustedwriterartist began her comic for her AU, Our Other Halves. I’m so excited to see what’s coming next! A unique separated AU, that keeps me intrigued and anxious to know what happened in the past and what will happen in the future!

@chiscribbs ‘s art, just literally ANYTHING she draws, it’s phenomenal. Her art is amazing and wonderful and looks exactly like the show?.!!? I know this isn’t anything specifically, she’s just an amazing artist!!

@/sludge-city made an amazing fireflight fancomic, and other individual comics and pieces that are very inspiring to me.

@/kathaynesart of course, I absolutely LOVE her replica comic! It is literally so professional and well written and it keeps me on my toes! It is THE CANON (to me) prologue to the bad future timeline.

there are so many other comics or individual pieces I’m forgetting, I’m sure. I’m so proud and impressed and inspired by the rise fandom! So many awesome creators, mutuals of mine whom I love, and fantastic writers.

thank you for the ask!!

[omagpies]

No way! Another person who has spent way too much time on apex! Who's your main? I'm guessing BH but I don't want to assume. How did you feel about the BH/Fuse engagement? Do you have any heirlooms? Sorry, not very many people play apex on here.

Also, do you have any apex art? If not that's totally cool but I would love to see it!

you have activated my trap card!! many drawings ahead

my main is indeed bloodhound. i also whip out fuse, mirage, and to a lesser degree octane, but mostly i'm a one trick bloodhound. they were what got me into the game in the first place back in season 7 when i heard their 'i'm afraid of heights :(' voicelines (a cool hunter nonbinary character voiced by none other than allegra clark? sign me tf up), and even though i am Very Bad At Shooting and don't actually like battle royale-type games apex stayed my brainrot for over two years. the brainrot is definitely over now and these days i play it as a social thing, but that's how i acquired 2k+ hours lmao

also they released a magpiehound recolor called 'frosthaven' that i gleefully snatched up and have been wearing it ever since (ft the magpie holospray and the magpie mural on their latest map. i think they are catering to me specifically)

i am. truly Not Good. i am here just to clown and gossip and make poor life choices. my impulse control is too non existent for someone whose best skill is shooting a perfect outline around the enemy and not a bullet within

i had SO MUCH bloodhound art over on twitter good god. out of the following two drawings, the first one was bought out by allegra to sell as signed prints, and the second one was reposted onto apex's IG account, and in general this was the one time i genuinely had a blast on twitter interacting with all the devs and vas before everything went downhill both in respawn and on twitter lol. also i have to say, s10 and the whole White Raven thing fed me so. so so. SO well. the existential angst was incredible.

i participated in a couple of zines/projects as well! i have many thoughts about their canonical(!) respawn system and the resulting unimportance of death. adds to the existentialism and to bloodhound's religious themes

overall it was a very, very prolific period for me, and there are many pieces i'm still very happy with to this day

(^ the second to last one is a reference to the fusehound confession scene, and the last one is related to one of my fics, wooden bones (forest deity!bh au))

shipping!!! miragehound was my initial and most prominent ship, and i will never forgive respawn for not expanding on their backstory (their mothers worked together COME ON. they might have met as children! COME ON!!!!! i have a whole series exactly about the What Could Have Been)

their backstory with boone also fascinated me for a very long time, and my friends and i spent many a yap session dissing the dude until we stopped and thought, hey, what if he really was Just Some Guy who made mistakes, what if he wasn't evil, and that's what pulled me right back into the brainrot when i was already starting to slowly recover from it. boone now has a very elaborate backstory and lore and i hope to god respawn never puts him in the games the way we did because a) they don't GET him and b) i don't trust the fandom with him lmao. i'm super down to blabber about him though just say the word. he's everything to me, my big, sad, hairy man

we also invented in-game stuff for him. he had abilities and skins etc etc (the top row of skins is his titan pilot backstory + talos era + 'default' in-game skin)

this diptych still lives rent-free in my head, i think i really won with this one

where miragehound and boonehound flourished, mirageboonehound wasn't far behind! i wrote how it came to be and all. also Рorn. so much Рorn. seriously.

also this was the first time i redrew the twelfth night as my otp. the second one was mouthwashing

fusehound was an absolute delight to watch blossom, especially since we know it wasn't planned and just Kind Of Happened. i felt that lmao. characters be like that. i'm a bit sadge they shelved the whole talos plotline in favor of romance but at this point i gave up on expecting good lore from apex, especially after they fired herr frozenfroh. i didn't draw fusehound nearly as much, BUT i do have one fic that was basically a dream i had lol

honorable mention goes to revhound!! this is the ship that went really hard with artists and writers. deeply painful, deeply compelling, absolutely incredible. mindblowing angst and just as mindblowing рorn, together or separately. best shit. the one ship i didn't write for because compared to the fandom's behemoths i never felt like i'd be able to contribute anything meaningful lol, i just got to sit back and enjoy

bonus: as one of my friends eloquently put it, bh and their bhitches :)

i was going to put in more pictures but hit the 30 images limit!!! my twitter is now abandoned but if you scroll down just a little you can see all the stuff that didn't make it into this post.

apex and bloodhound also REALLY, REALLY got me writing. i came into the fandom already relatively warmed up after a 170k fire emblem fic, but i ended up writing 200k+ for miragehound, mirageboonehound, and fusehound combined. i was unstoppable. it was insane. i've linked some already but you can peep them all here. bloodhound's pov was especially fun to write for, purple prose my beloved

also you asked me about heirlooms! i'm a lucky motherfucker who managed to get one set of shards from the 500th box and another from just the random 0.4% chance. so i have bloodhound's and fuse's as they are my most played characters :)

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fic. (Part Two)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful, and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes, so not really designed for under 18s but not overly graphic.

We Got Issues

Part Two: Y/N's anxiety over Cillian's revelation breeds further fears, reigniting her concerns regarding how they'd got together in the first place. She tells him, and he placates, but is it enough?

@remembering-angels @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure

Very brief proofreading, apologies for obvious typos.

........

You give up trying to sleep and reach for your phone on the nightstand. It's six thirty and you know Cillian has a call at eight with Steven Knight, regarding the upcoming filming and associated work for the next branch of the Peaky Blinders franchise. You also know he hasn't come up the stairs at all, but then you had warned him off with a sincerely bitter tone. You drag down the notification bar at the top and see Cillian's name - Cill, not Cillian - and the first line of a text message he's sent to you at some point. You don't remember your phone even vibrating to signal it arriving, but when you open it the time stamp says five am. You scan your eyes over the lengthy message and consider ignoring it completely. It's like a novella, and you know it's filled with apologies and justifications, and your heart beats a little quicker for a moment. You breathe deeply inward through your nose and sigh it out slowly as you go back to the beginning of the message. The first words are in Irish, and you smile a little as you bite your bottom lip.

‘Mo ghrá - if I had even thought it would hurt you in any way to have talked to Yvonne in that way, then I wouldn't have done it. You know I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you sooner, it wasn't a conscious thing. And talking to her wasn't a conscious thing either, it just sort of came out as we were talking. She was telling me about how things are with Adam and I suppose it just came out…’

You frown and draw your lips to the side in thought. He rarely mentioned Adam, Yvonne's partner of one year. You don't know what his real feelings are surrounding her moving on in that way, but you know he envies the time Adam spends with the boys. Mostly, thought, you consider that you could entirely see his point. How many times have you been talking with girlfriends and had a moan about an argument you and Cillian had? You feel the heavy pull of guilt turning in your gut as you continue to read his text message.

‘... What I mean is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I waited when I knew I felt differently. I know it's hurt you. I don't want that, I don't want to hurt you. When you wake up, and see this, come downstairs and just talk to me like it's all okay so I know that you know and feel that it IS all okay. I love you, Y/N.’

You place your phone face down against your stomach and stare up at the ceiling. You're allowed to feel hurt and you grant yourself that, but you know overwhelmingly that you don't want him to feel like he has to spend his life apologising to you either. You've made your own mistakes, many of them, and after talking he always forgives you. You know it's your place to drop your anxieties now and allow him the grace he's so often shown you. You sigh, and capture your phone in your hand again as you sit up and throw back the duvet. The place doesn't feel so cold now, and you get out of bed and pull on your favourite comfortable joggers and a t-shirt. You push your phone into your pocket then run your hands through your hair to neaten it slightly. Slipping your feet into the Ugg slippers you habitually leave by the armchair in the corner of the room, you glance at yourself in the mirror beside it. You look tired - your eyes have darkened rings beneath them, mixed with the redness of your waterline from crying off and on, and you're sure you look like you've been smacked about a bit. You feel exhausted, and can think of only two things you want to do now: drink coffee, and hold him.

You move slowly and quietly down the stairs, your hands on the wall for stability as you move, and you step down into the open living space. Looking down at the kitchen, you can see his mug and book are still on the island, and his glasses and earphones are piled on top of the closed book. It takes a second to find him; curled into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, in the far left corner from the stairs. He has the thick navy throw from the back of the couch pulled up over him and his head is resting on one of the many scatter cushions. You smile - he hates those fucking cushions! His phone is on the sofa cushion a little further up from his head and the television is on at a low volume, playing to itself now on Sky News. You decide to swallow your pride immediately, rather than waiting, and you walk towards the sofa slowly. Crouching down onto the balls of your feet, you lean your face in close to his and kiss the wrinkles of his sleepy frown that are settled in the bridge of his nose. Part of him will hate you for this, you know; sleep and Cillian are twins never to be separated! When his brows don't even twitch at your lips, you smirk as you kiss him again, laughing a little as you draw back your face from him, finally having received a response, and watch him as he slowly pulls from his sleep. Cillian's face switches through a throng of emotions before his eyes even open and you laugh to yourself once again, listening as he grumbles in time with stretching his body out and slowly draws his eyelids open.

He hums and grants you a sleepy smile, and with a croaky, sleep-infused voice he says your name before his mouth drags wide with an exhausted yawn. He licks his lips, and fixes his tired eyes on you with more focus than you were expecting, considering you'd rudely interrupted what you knew to be pressure little sleep. “Y’alright?” He asks huskily.

Still crouching before him, your hands resting on the sofa cushion for balance, you nod your head with a soft smile. “Are you?” You ask. You ensure you keep your tone light and loving. You feel how you feel, but you know you can't keep the fight going because of your anxiety constantly reminding you of how your relationship started.

He draws down the corners of his mouth and slowly sits up, his legs swinging down beside where you're perched, and he keeps the throw pulled over his waist. He looks at you with his head tilted slightly, and beneath the exhaustion you can see his sweetness, and the endearing way his tired eyes are still trying to shine. “I am if you are.” He says finally. He sits forward and places his left hand against your face, fingers brushing into your hair and over your ear, and his palm gently cupping your cheek. “We’ll have tea, yeah?” he says, a sudden cheeky smile pushing his cheeks high on their sharp edges, and you find it impossible not to smile back.

“If you're making it,” you tease him, cupping your fingers around his wrist. You turn your head in his light hold and kiss your lips softly against his palm before you slowly begin to stand up straight.

“Fuck off!” He smirks, watching as you get to your feet. “I'm only after waking up.”

You laugh as you turn your back on him, approaching the kitchen with slow steps, “So what? You think I haven't seen you prancing around the kitchen with morning glory before now?” The sound of his light, melodic laugh makes you smile, even more so as he refutes ever being a man who prances, and does go a long way to putting out the fires inside, but it's still there in the back of your mind. You punish yourself for it, rightly or wrongly, but you can't shift it. Why speak to her? Of all people! Not that you disliked her for any particular reason; she'd never been overly nice, but she was courteous enough when the boys were dropped between houses, especially considering how you and Cillian had behaved. But why did he call her? Why not his brother? Why not Eileen, or Tom seeing as they'd remained close from their numerous projects together? Why did it have to be Yvonne?! But the hardest thought to shift was whether or not it had been more than just talking, whether he'd returned to her in other ways. You try your hardest to keep it down, knowing he wants you to forgive him and knowing you probably should, but it's hard and you feel your heart racing and that terrible feeling of impending doom as your anxiety amps up.

You feel his arms wrap around you from behind and, standing at the sink with the kettle, intending to fill it but lost in your head, and you startle at his sudden presence. His arms snake around your waist, holding you tightly, and his rests his chin down on your left shoulder. “How's this for prancing?” He whispers seductively, his voice still husky from sleep but slowly lifting, and he turns his head to press a kiss into the bend of your jaw. His entire body is pushed into your back, and the smell of his skin fills your nose. He smells of comfort, of home, of languid sex, of Friday night Chinese takeaways on the sofa and a bottle of wine that becomes three… You allow him to pull you back against him a little, and you can feel his breaths against your neck. He's comforting, and soft and warm, but your heart still beats wildly and there's a question on your tongue that you're desperate to ask but you know it'll launch a bomb. He has work to do soon, you can't cause problems, but your body aches with fear, and uncertainty, and you feel like crying. “Are we watering the drains, or are you filling that kettle?” He teases, drawing back his head but keeping his arms around your waist. “G’on and sit down,” he says, finally removing his arms, and takes the kettle from you. He jerks his head away towards the living room. “I'll make the tea. You want tea?” He checks, “Or coffee?”

You move from the sink slowly, pushing as convincing a smile to your lips as you can, as he moves closer to the sink himself and finally gets the kettle filled with water. “Um, uh,” you stumble your words, “Coffee.”

He glances over at you as he turns off the tap, “Are y'alright?’ he frowns, concerned.

You push the smile back into your expression once again, forcing it brighter. “Fine.” you say, and it's on the tip of your tongue to ask the question you barely dare considering. “Just tired.” You lie, and climb into one of the stools at the island. You watch him as he places the kettle on the stand to boil, and occupies himself with collecting mugs. “Is, eh, is Steven calling you or do you have to call through to him?” You ask, needing conversation so there are words other than those in your mind.

“Ah, he'll be doing the inviting on Zoom there,” he says with his back to you, then peeks over his shoulder and smiles before turning back to his task. “I'm sure he said he's Sophie and Packy in this one too.”

You smile gently - you'd met Sophie a few times and you'd enjoyed one another's company, and Packy was so easy to get along with, oozing charm. “Packy’s home in Ireland?” You ask. Nodding his head, Cillian inhales as he whispers yes to your question. “And the call is at eight?” You ask, even though you hadn't forgotten at all.

“It is, yeah,” Cillian looks up at you just as the kettle boils and the switch flicks back up noisily. “What sort of coffee?” He asks.

“Whichever you put your hand to first,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. “Are the boys still having dinner here today?” You ask, realising in your tiredness and emotional unrest that it is still Sunday and, usually, the boys would have dinner with you and their father.

“Aran is, yeah,” Cillian nods as he fills both mugs from the kettle. Setting it back down onto the stand, he looks back at you once again. “Malachy’s away at the girlfriend’s for dinner.” He smiles.

You smile at his amused expression and raise your eyebrows. “Am I picking Aran up from Yvonne's?”

“Ah no, sure I'll go for him after I've finished with Steven.” He says, noisily stirring a teaspoon around in your coffee mug. “Bainne?” He asks and you smile once again, loving when he throws odd Irish words into conversation.

“A drop.” You answer quietly. A moment later he's sitting on the stool beside you, mug of tea before him, and you wrap your hands around the coffee mug he'd placed in front of you. It's quiet, and while it's mostly a comfortable silence that's fallen, your burning question is still begging to be asked. But he has work this morning, and Aran is coming…you're torturing yourself not asking, but you'd ruin the entire day if you utter the words that are frightening you after his earlier revelations.

“Will you tell me what's going round your head?” He says, and you realise you'd drifted into your mind entirely. You blink slowly and fix your eyes on his face. His eyebrows are raised, and his pouty lips are pulled down at the sides in questioning.

You breathe in deeply and shake your head. “I can't.” You say and he frowns at you instantly. “It'll ruin everything.”

“Y/N?” Cillian tilts his head slightly and you feel like crying. “Isn't it me not talking that caused this fucking row?” He points out. “Tell me, for fucks sake.” He tries to sound jovial but you can see the nervousness that causes the bridge of his nose to wrinkle.

“I'm scared,” you admit and he raises his eyebrows just a little.

“About?” He coaxes when you offer nothing more for a moment.

You lick your lips quickly and sigh. “That my fears are reality.”

“What fears?” He asks, and he reaches between you to rest his hand against your arm laid out on the countertop before you.

“That you talking about personal stuff with us, to Yvonne, is more than just talking.” You say, and you tense up as he immediately draws his hand back from your arm. You don't know if it's anger or guilt, but it's something. “That's it…more intimate than that.” You continue, and he gets up from the stool and paces behind it for a few steps. “Cillian?”

“I don't know why you're asking.” He stills and looks at you, “Why'd you even think that? Y/N, this is ridiculous.”

“See,” you say, “I told you it would ruin everything.”

“It hasn't. It won't. But I'm telling you now,” he approaches and cups his hands around your face. “There is nothing for you to worry about. I've told you before now. It's just your anxiety telling you things that aren't true.”

Your eyes are forced to focus on his, and their softness is soothing. “You swear to me, in the time we've been together, you've never been back to her?”

His brow furrows a little, “You have nothing to worry about.” He says with a firm nod to accompany the words. He moves his face closer to yours and presses his lips against yours softly. Holding your face still, he keeps you close. You reach up your hands and curl your fingers around his wrists, sighing gently as he breaks the kiss but rests his forehead to yours. “But we can't keep doing this, going over your same anxiety when it's rooted in nothing.” He lets go of your face and steps back a little.

“I can't help it.” You say, “We snuck around, Cill.”

“Y/N, I hadn't been happy for a while. You came at the right time, that's all.” He smiles and the warmth of his expression relaxes your tense body a little. “Stop waiting for it to go wrong.” He says gently. “It hasn't yet, and I've no intentions of it going wrong as we go forward, either.” He stands looking at you for a minute, just smiling gently, and you eventually find yourself smiling back. The anxiety hasn't gone, that fear over what else might have occurred has not dwindled, but he sounds so loving and sincere that being angry forever isn't possible. “Right,” he claps his hands together then rubs his palms noisily. “I'm away for a shower before this call.” He places both of his hands on your shoulders as he goes to walk past, “Don't be worrying, okay? There's nothing to worry about.”

You sit alone as he disappears up the stairs and wrap your hands around your cooling mug of coffee. But in his absence you feel a resurgence of anxiety. Were you being too picky, or had he avoided actually swearing that he hadn't done anything more? You tell yourself you're being pedantic, that this is ridiculous and he's right - you're just anxious and insecure - but it sits there in the back of your mind and it turns cogs painfully slowly.