I love greek mythology and witchcraft. Iâm a baby witch, Iâm starting a discord server for everything witchy, greek mythology and helpol, paganism or whatever!
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Since Leon is Italian - American, y'all think he had big Sunday dinners growing up? Since he lost his parents so young I know he must miss those family dinners
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Heeeeey, could everyone do me a favor? In Nashville Tennessee there is a data center being proposed *right beside* the Nashville Zoo. Iâm not talking about near. Iâm talking about it would be on the plot directly beside it.
The data center, DC BLOX, says that it would have no environmental impact and pay for any power/water bill difference. However, with the track history of data centers, many people (including the Nashville Zoo itself) are unconvinced of this statement. Even if they covered the cost, which theyâve supposedly claimed they will do, the strain on electricity and water could impact the health of the animals regardless.
So, if you could do something which would cost you nothing but your time and sign the petition created by the Nashville Zoo, the zoo, the animals, and I would all greatly appreciate it!
Much love!đ„°
Link to the petition: https://www.change.org/p/nashville-zoo-says-no-to-proposed-data-center
I still think about this quote and how now I can see fucking Rafayel or Caleb saying it trying to cheer up mc when they done something very stupid and this was the only way to make her not mad at them.
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You should've known you wouldn't be able to hide it.
"Why are you limping?"
Zayne has been home from his two week business trip all of 4 minutes, and you've already been found out. You do your best to smile reassuringly, but you know he can sense the guilt. Curse him and his incredible ability to read you.
"Before you freak out, I'm fine. It's just...a minor sprain. No big deal!" Your words apparently mean nothing, because you blink and he's lifting you into the air, carrying you to the couch.
"Wh-come on Zayne I'm fine! I can still walk!" You complain, but you go quiet seeing the look on his face. Almost shell-shocked, the concern so clearly etched as he gently sets you down and kneels to inspect your ankle.
"You shouldn't walk on it." He moves your foot, murmuring an apology when you wince in pain.
"Greyson said I-I could after a week." Zayne pauses, glancing up at you in confusion. You press your lips together, cursing yourself for speaking without thinking. Poor Greyson. You'll send him an apology for how rough his Monday is going to be.
"When exactly did this happen?" He's clearly upset, but it's outweighed by his concern as he forms an ice pack with his evol and holds it to your skin.
"Oh! Um about two days after you left? I didn't want to worry you! I knew it'd be a while before you got back. The last thing I wanted was for you to be distracted thinking of me." He clenches his jaw, setting the ice aside and moving to sit next to you.
Zayne has never been good at hiding his worry from you. Even now, despite his disappointment that you'd spent the past two weeks lying to him, it's clear he's more concerned with you than anything.
"I am always distracted thinking about you. I'm quite adjusted to the feeling. Please...don't hide these things from me."
"Okay. I won't, I promise. Will you lay down with me now? We have two weeks of cuddling to catch up on."
dad!Rafayel who gets his daughter to finally say dada... but only when she's angry. he's not pleased.
âSay dada!âÂ
âMama!âÂ
âDa-da.â
âMama.âÂ
Small grabby hands are aimed at Rafayel, who pouts and shakes his head adamantly at his daughter who has already seemed to pick a favourite parent.
âNoo, no cuddles or kisses until you call my name and not mamaâsâŠâ Rafayel murmurs, flicking a fine-detail paintbrush to the babyâs nose. She giggles at the ticklish sensation, reaching to itch her nose where the bristles had brushed against her skin. âNoseâ is actually an overstatement, because itâs barely a peak with two holes for breathing.Â
âSay dada, baby. Please? For your old man?â Rafayel pleads, nuzzling his nose against her hair. All four of her limbs fly upwards as she grows restless of her fatherâs boring games to make her call him.Â
âItâs easier to say than mama! I donât understand,â he tries again.
âMama! Mama! Mama!â She chants, like a little storm not willing to back down. Rafayel crosses his arms, trying to make it clear that heâs unhappy with the baby at the moment.Â
After some more fussing, Rafayel concedes and lets her out of the bouncer. He melts at her little wordless demands, no matter how petty he might be feeling from not hearing âdadaâ coming from her.Â
The baby roams around the playmat, reaching for various toys to play with. Rafayel being the meanie he is, takes the plush toy and puts it further away from her every time sheâs close to reaching it. With a whine of annoyance she glares at her dad before proceeding to crawl to the toy again. Rafayel moves it further.Â
âOkay, okay, I wonât do it again,â he relents, putting his hands up. His daughter cautiously approaches the toy and waits a second for Rafayel to move it. When he doesnât, she pushes herself back to sit by it and reach out to play with it.Â
He plucks it from her hands and places it behind her.Â
Her little face practically turns red.Â
âDada!â She yells, with all the power in her lungs. The room pauses. Rafayelâs eyes widen, before the biggest grin breaks across his face.Â
âYes! Yes, itâs dada!â He points to himself, excitedly laying on his stomach to be at eye level with his daughter. Rafayel scoops his hand behind her, pulling her closer to place a triumphant kiss to her cheek but the chubby hand that slaps his cheek stops him from doing otherwise.Â
âOh.âÂ
Rafayel puckers his lips, staying still to lure his daughter closer.Â
âWhy donât you say dada again?â He prods. He leans closer but the baby has clearly had enough of him. She looks away to the stuffed toy, preferring to reach for that instead.Â
âDadaâŠâ He hears her murmur, but in a rather distasteful tone. Itâs a small victory, but it doesnât sound nearly as joyful as any time she has cheered or chanted âmamaâ.Â
âI think sheâs associating negative emotions with dadaâŠâ Rafayel whines after a long day of spending time with his daughter and analysing when she calls for âmamaâ and when she calls for âdadaâ.Â
âI told you to stop annoying her,â you flick Rafayelâs head. He rolls over on the couch, curling up into a ball of disappointment.
âI just wanted her to call for me. Is that too much to ask?!âÂ
You sigh, sitting near Rafayelâs legs and providing empathetic pats to his back. If your daughter started using your name as an exclamation of anger, you would probably be dejected by it as well.
Your husband tries again. He turns around, hanging his head over the edge of the couch. An exaggerated pout hangs on his lips as he watches his daughter play with a rattle. She drops it, and immediately loses it.Â
âDada!â She says angrily. Huffing, she reaches for the toy again with the slightest furrow in her brows.Â
Youâre left consoling the babbling father again over your daughterâs new habit that is all his fault.
I hate that I don't have as much time to write rn bc my FINALS ARE APPROACHING AHHHH I'M NOT PREPARED ENOUGH I WROTE THIS IN BETWEEN STUDYING I'M STILL STUDYING IT'S LIKE 2AM HERE
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âPlease, donât give up on me.â â TXT feat. Caleb (Xia Yizhou)
Synopsis: You never realized how much of a toll a long work trip could be for your boyfriend, especially as he slowly drowns into his own thoughts. OR comforting your poor baby.
Tags and notes: 4K words of pure hurt/comfort, crying, panic attacks, self care, fluff, cuddling, my baby (he better come home for his bday), words of reassurance, hints of unhealthy and toxic self stereotyping if you squint, give this man a hug, Caleb is described to take anxiety and other pills, has depression, bipolar disorder. Soothing, bed-rotting, NOT PROOFREAD, JUST MADE AT 2AM.
This had been in my drafts for far too long from a request I lost. Sorry for the weird request/uploading schedule, but I was thinking about how we donât talk about Caleb and his hints of being toxic towards himself, distancing and clinging on, and I plan to make this agenda happen..
Caleb hasnât been doing well mentally, and had shut his girlfriend out for a two month, and it didnât help you had missions over missions.
You finally had come to pay him a visit.
You inhaled deeply as you turn the front door knob to Calebâs apartment. You hoped he was at home, because leaving him for a whole two months because of an unavoidable mission as one of deepspaceâs best hunters was bad enough. But before you left, knowing the state Caleb was in? It broke your heart when he was possibly the most vulnerable in his mental state that you inconveniently left.
 You promised to text him every day when you could and call every week, but a week before the big work trip, when you were packing up stuff and busy prepping, he stopped texting. He wasnât online, answering anything. Not even a good morning.
Youâd text him about taking his medicine, no response. Eating properly, nothing. Getting to work safely, silence. And this was very out of the ordinary, knowing that your boyfriend was the exact opposite of non-chalant and had no shame in texting you good mornings (at four am in the morning, but who cares) and spam texting you with every single inconvenience or just trying to convince you to visit him.
Just your boyfriend knowing you were at home, his household, no, the both of yours, wearing your (his) t-shirt and waiting for him could soothe him.
But now, as the slow four weeks went by, his profile never seemed to have turned online or read your messages. You knew what was happening, unfortunately. You knew that Caleb battled his own mind with depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder and trauma, especially trauma. So he'd, on instinct, just close himself up.
And though very alarming at first, you knew heâd come crawling back into your arms and tell you everything after a few hours, or usually up to a few days.Which then heâd reply to every singular message you texted him in an almost annoying way, but that was Caleb.
So where was your Caleb?Â
Something wasnât right, your heart fluttered, and desperate to wrap the mission up as quickly as possible, you returned a day and a half early back to Linkon where you didnât miss a beat and immediately booked the skytrain to Skyhaven after quickly showering, changing into more suitable clothes instead of looking like you survived war. You didnât need to pack much.
Literally just a small purse and a phone to spend preferably, no, actually three weeks. Because you were requesting some time out of office, with a sob story that you had priorities, Caleb.
Your heart ached every time you thought about his sad puppy eyes and if he had ears, deflating in desolation as you kissed him a long goodbye.
You couldnât articulate why just two months away was so long, considering youâve reunited after a whole year of grieving for his âdeathâ but nevertheless, it seemed longer because it took a toll on him.The moment the train reached Skyhaven plaza, you bolted out, turned back around to retrieve your purse you accidentally left, and took anotyou slow transit bus to Calebâs residence. And now you were there, hoping endlessly that there was a sign of him fine.
You had to physically shake your head from those thoughts.From the doorframe, his penthouse looked messy. Boots looked like he just tossed them carelessly when they were usually aligned neatly on the shoe rack. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink and even the counter beside the sink and dust collecting everywhere. And the thought his you..
You rapped on the door softly, in the way you and Caleb always did since childhood to let each each other know that it was them. Long, short,short, long. Originally it was a whole ritual, but this was just the shortened version you shortened throughout the years.
There was still heavy breathing, almost as if the person behind was gasping for air.You push the door open, and let out a sharp exhale, the colour that was drained from your face slowly seeping back. Your clammy hands felt more relaxed. Caleb, but worry still wrote all over your face. You walk closer to the bed, and heâs tossing and turning, mumbling incoyouent things.
You kneel onto the bed, your weight slightly sinking the mattress. He was having a nightmare, wasnât he?Â
Youâve danced to this before, and you were basically a professional on how to handle Caleb. You stroke the back of his bedridden hair before your hand trying to nudge in the space between him sleeping on his front and the wrinkled sheets. Your hand could feel soft prickles all over the lower part of his face.Â
He mustâve not looked at his face for quite a bit you thought, but you didnât care how he looked at the moment. âCaleb..â you softly whisper out, and he tensed a little from your voice or his dream, you werenât sure. He looked rough. Like he hasnât been sleeping well in days. Part of you wanted to snuggle in with him and console him until it was all over, another part was screaming that you needed to wake him up.
 âGuess whoâs ho-ome.â You softly sing out, not wanting to startle him, that could be the worst possible outcome for someone like him. His breath staggers a little in return before his eyes try to flutter open.
And when they did, his once bright violet eyes looked numb. Sad and soulless. Like his brain had been offline.
âHey baby.â
You whisper down at him. He sits up, sort of robotically before he really wakes up, and when he does?
âPipsqueak?â His hoarse voice rasps out, his eyes widening and his imaginary ears that drooped low the last time you âsawâ them, perked up. Tears rimmed around the bottom of his eyes. You gently smile and hold his hand.
âYeah, Iâm here now.â And those tears threaten to spill out waterfall, as he immediately wraps his arms around you so quickly you almost fall back onto the sheets. You shakily chuckle as he sobs into the crook of your near, warm tears running down your collar bone. His stubble pricks a bit of your neck, but you couldnât care less as you finally wrap your arms around his broad back as he shakes, your heartstrings threatening to just snap off from heartbreak.
âMy pretty boy..â you trail. He doesnât let go for a good three minutes, in fact, tightening his grip around you as if youâd disappear again before you feel his hands loosen and he collapses onto you, and the both of you fall back into the sheets.Â
You giggled unsure how to react as you hold back tears of your own. And you get back up and notice how rough he looked. Apart from his puffy eyes, heavy eye bags drooped under his almost emotionless eyes that you shuddered seeing, and his stubble around him told you everything you needed to know.
He didnât smell like his usual scent of sweet apples and a warm July evening. No, it seemed like he wasnât able to physically shower.
He had an old faded DAA university hoodie that looked like that was the only thing heâs worn. And with dirty sweatpants.
You tried being discreet as possible but Caleb noticed you eyeing him up and down and became very self-conscious. He awkwardly placed a hand at the back of his neck and looked around at the usually clean but now very messy room.âI..I found it hard to..â he was about to mumble, looking embarrassed but you cradle the right side of his cheek.
âI get it.â And thatâs all you had to say before his glossy eyes almost took over as he tremoured to shakily explain himself.
âIt was already hard enough âfore you left anâ thenâŠthen..I donâ know whaâ happened..â Your heart broke at the thought of him silently struggling alone.
âWhy didnât you text me back? I was worried sick.â You asked.
âCouldnât bring myself to do it. Thought I was being clingy. What kind of boyfriend or man is so clingy, he.. he canât live without his girlfriend..?â
âMy Man.â You whisper.
He looks up to meet with your eyes.
âI couldnât take it, what if you were..you were.. anâ if by texting you, Iâd be more scared.. and..â âyou were trying to protect yourself in a way.â You finished off for him, because even though he was jumbling his words, you could always understand him.Â
He nods, defeat and past anxiety dancing in his eyes. You let out a breath and know what you have to do. âCome on, whenâs the last time you took a shower?â And you lead him up, in which he sort of stumbles before using his evol to balance him out, which then makes you really wonder how long itâs been since he got out of bed. He is a little flustered, looks at the ground before murmuring.
â âround a few weeks..â like he was waiting for you to judge him. But you didnât. Didnât even make a joke about how bad he smelt. You lead him to the bathroom and turn on the shower knob, not making it hot or cold, just warm in general. You have to physically drag him in, as he sort of follows you, a little clueless. You rub the palm of his hand and gesture to him to get in.
âWant me to stay or to leave?â You ask. âStay.â He sniffles and you help him out of his clothes, quickly running to the washing machine to throw in (violently). You stay outside, holding a towel as you sit on top of the elongated bathroom marbles counter, smiling at him in which heâd return a weak smile back.
Once he finished up after gently reminding him time was up, you handed him the towel to cover himself and hold up a couple of hygiene supplies. You hold up a razor, your face wash and some of your skincare that you once jokingly(?) warned him to not use, though it was clear he didnât heed your warnings and just replaced them before you came.
âIâm really getting spoiled today, huh?â He attempted a grin and you were happy just seeing a smile. Fake or not.âItâs part of the girlfriend care package?â You wink and smile. And a few moments later, you have him in between your legs dangling from the counter as you shaved the stubble off.
âYou honestly look cute with it, but you also look like a sleep-deprived dad.â You joke, as with utter precision and care you avoid nicking him. âYou really think Iâm cute when Iâm like this?â He slowly whispers. The dark blue razor is just upheld in your hand, in the air as you think about what to say. Because just complimenting him wasnâtâŠdeep enough.
You looked back up at him and smiled as you carried on with the last part of his face.âCaleb, do you think Iâm pretty?â You softly tease with the question hanging in the air. He looks up, almost surprised, voice raspy from days of silence. âYeah,Of course.âYou smile for a heartbeat really trying to keep it in but then your expression falters. He looks thinner, the edges of him dulled and you really notice how his eyes are red-rimmed and hollow. The air smells like dust and stale coffee.
âThen⊠why donât you ever believe it when I tell you youâre handsome?âCaleb blinks, thrown. You lean in forward and cup his face in both hands. your thumb drags gently over the rough stubble along his jaw, the texture of raw neglect.
âYou used to shave. Remember when we were kids? You used to smile like an idiot when I called you beautiful? Now you look at yourself like youâre something broken.â
Your boyfriend opens his mouth, but the words stick in his throat. You shake your head, eyes glistening.
âYou are enough. You always have been. Youâre my favorite face in the world. The way your eyes light up when you talk about childhood, Lego buildings, just teasing me, the way you laugh like it surprises you every time,God, I missed that. I missed you.â
your voice trembles and you press your forehead to his. âYou donât know what it did to me, seeing you like this. Youâve been torturing yourself, havenât you? Thinking I wouldnât come back, or that you werenât worth waiting for.â
he doesnât answer. His silence says everything. Your hands cup his cheeks tighter.
âListen to me. Youâre kind. Youâre gentle. You love like itâs the only thing you know how to do. You take care of people even when youâre falling apart. Youâre the best man Iâve ever known, and I hate that you canât see that.â
your voice cracks, tears running freely now.
âSo yeah, Iâm pretty. But youââ your thumb traces his now cleanly shaven cheekbone, trembling ââyouâre beautiful. Not because you look perfect, but because you love like this. Because you feel like this. Because you survived it.â
He finally exhales, a sound between a sob and a breath, and collapses into you. His hands clutch you like sheâs the only thing keeping him from disappearing.
âI just thoughtâŠyou⊠my pipsqueak would leave her Gege if you ever saw me like this.â He mumbles.
âNever, especially when youâre like this.â You whisper. âI stopped checking my phone. Every time it buzzed, I froze. If it wasnât you, it just⊠hurt too much.â
You tilt his chin up until he meets your eyes. âI was gone, but I never left you. Not for a second. He gives a soft, broken laugh, forehead pressed to yours. âYouâre the only thing that makes me feel real.â Caleb whispers.âThis is all real, Caleb. Me sitting on your bathroom counter, coercing you into using my face scrubs, Iâm here.â
You press a long, deliberate kiss to his cheek. It feels like time stood still as he leaned into your touch, exhaling as his arms rightfully found his way to your waist. You pull back, and he almost elicits a whine before you give him a watery smile, sniffle as you rub your nose and jump off the counter.
âI think itâs time to get you home-cooked food. Donât pretend I didnât see plastic plates and McDonaldâs take out bags in the trash.â Your boyfriend smiles as you guide him back to bed, tucking him in with a fresh set of pajamas like a mother hen. You plant a kiss on his forehead, temple and lips after stroking his hair a little bit
. You hum a tune, a slow and sweet one. That one song you and him both discovered once upon a time of early dating. The memories of dancing together,barefoot with pajamas in the middle of the night as popcorn for midnight-munchies were being heated.
His eyes flutter shut, and you slip out after picking up a couple of clothes from the floor and sorted them either into the washing hamper, or back in his closet, neatly tucked and colour coded like he meticulously arranged them. Your work wasnât done even if you just put your darling to sleep.
You were determined to wash all those dishes, piled after pile. And tackling the garbage from the bin and scattered all over the floor. And an hour of humming tunes where you swore you could hear Caleb very off-key harmonizing with you in the back of your mind, this apartment was clean.
Caleb was safe and clean. It would take him a large amount of time to slowly climb out of this slump, and youâd be sure to let him know that you were there with every little step of the way.
âBaby?â You hear his faint croak. You walk back to the bedroom, peeking your head from the doorframe. âPlease..come here.â The bed feels different tonight.warmer, quieter, safer. The air still smells faintly of your shampoo, the one scent that hadnât entirely disappeared from his sheets.
He lies on his side, back pressed against your chest, your arm wrapped snugly around his waist. His breathing is uneven, still learning how to slow down after two long, hollow months. You can feel the exhaustion in his body, the way his muscles tense even as he tries to rest.âIâm sorry,â he whispers into the dark.You blink, half-awake, your voice groggy but gentle.
âFor what?âHe hesitates, fingers twisting in the blanket like he needs something to hold onto. âFor looking like this,â he finally murmurs. âFor letting everything fall apart. I thought youâd come back, see me, see the place, and just⊠want to leave. I figured youâd want to do other things. Be with someone who didnâtââ He stops, voice breaking in the quiet. ââwho didnât fall apart so easily.â
Your heart cracks.
You tighten your arm around him, pulling him closer until your chest presses to his back and your lips are right by his ear. âHey,â you whisper. âLook at me.âHe hesitates, then rolls slightly, enough for his eyes to meet yours in the soft light seeping through the curtains. His face looks so tired,his cheeks a little sunken, his eyes rimmed with the kind of ache you canât sleep off.âYou think I came all this way to judge you for surviving?â you ask quietly. âYou think I care about dishes or dust or any of that?Â
You were alone, hurting, trying to hold yourself together when you thought I might never come back. Of course things fell apart. You were hurting.â
You reach up and brush your fingers through his messy hair, thumb resting at his temple. âI didnât fall in love with you because you had it together all the time. I fell in love with you because of how you love,because even when youâre breaking into pieces, you still care.â
His breath stutters, eyes glistening as his chest rises and falls like heâs trying not to cry. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, then another to the corner of his mouth.âYou didnât scare me off,â you whisper.
âYou make me want to stay.âThatâs when he breaks. His shoulders shake as he turns in your arms, hiding his face against your collarbone. You hold him tighter, your fingers tracing circles across his back. His voice comes out small, muffled against your skin. âYou donât know how bad it got.â
You swallow hard, steadying your voice. âThen show me,â you say. âLet me see all of it. Weâll fix it together, okay?âHe nods against you, trembling a little. You press your lips to his hair. âYou donât have to be perfect for me to love you,â you murmur.
âYou just have to be here.âHe exhales, slow and shaky, and the tension finally leaves his body. You keep tracing patterns along his arm, whispering into his hair, âWeâve got time now. No more counting days. No more empty bed. Just us.â
He doesnât answer, but he doesnât need to.
You can feel it in the way he melts into you, the way his breathing evens out. For the first time in months, he drifts off in your arms,safe, quiet, and finally home.
Taglist yet to be added for CalebâŠ.
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