#confuter

[kind-yet-crazy]

Wait a second!!!

If Jesus died for our sins, and being gay was a sin.

Does that make Jesus histories realist ally??

[an-absoloute-dysbesic]

Hey what does it mean when Tumblr tells you that your crush posted something.

Like how do they determine this crush, is it based off like or what

I think that it's based off of likes but I think I'm wrong please help I'm so confused

[dduane]

Bismark, omit, leafage, buck, bank Calgary, Cuba, unguard, confute, duck, Fagan

[loaksbitch]

now this time, neteyam holding back from fucking you stupid but you’re too snarky and it ends up him really fucking you stupid? of course. — i want to cry bcs i love him ):

warnings : obviously smut, making love to slight rough fucking, multi-tasker neteyam, p in v, p penetration, pecks and kisses, teyam is puthy whipped, breeding kink if you squint, suggestive fluff moment in the end.

“you’re holding back.”

of course he is. neteyam is trying to stop himself from completely fucking you open and you telling him this was clearly not helping at all.

his face was damp, brows knit and braids with prettiest beads swaying when he fucked himself in you. neteyam tries to focus on not cumming before you, wanting to chase your release before his. “shh,” he hushes you, too afraid he won’t be able to make it with your broken voice, “need you to be quiet fr'me right now.”

but you were just far from quiet. he knows you love to tease him, be a little minx sometimes that he just can’t help but enjoy.

“you confuted yourself, teyam,” you breathily say.

your mate just groans, balancing himself on top of you by trapping your head with his hefty arms. “you think so?” he rolls his hips into you and you press your head back to the pillowy material below you.

“hm,” he hears you hum. “you said you were gonna fuck me stupid.” you remind him and feel your heart tighten when he chuckles. “and now you’re just making love to me.” he knows you like it rough, he just wanted to get a grip over himself.

“can’t i do both?” he distracts you, one hand sliding to your curves before he caresses your freckle painted hips.

“i don’t know, can you?” you smile, eyes fluttered shut when his cock propelled into your saturated cunt. neteyam swallows his spit, slightly feeling his ego bruising. he’s a perfect mate for a reason.

“y’know if you just want me to fuck you dump…” your breath quickens when neteyam sat on his heels. this is it, this is what you wanted and your inside coils just thinking of him ruining you. “what?” you sigh, chest heaving with adrenaline.

“you could’ve just said,” his every move was calculated. neteyam pushes your legs further apart and spreads you open, exposing your slick nectar. “‘want you to fuck me stupid, nete.’” your breath got stuck when he looked straight to your eyes, his being dark yet amber-like glowing under the eclipse.

that’s when you knew the man who was trying not to get ahead of himself was gone. completely gone.

neteyam pulls you rough to meet his thrust, plunged deep in you just to be drawing back out of your cunt. your mewl is high pitched, causing his ears to shift angels and flatten. “fuck.” he howls, feeling your warm walls clamping against his angry head.

your mouth flew open, shockwave washing over you. the pleasure he was giving traveled all over your skin that you felt you’re drunk to the brim. the man above you just drilled into you, the feeling of your nails digging into his wrist that were pressing you down to the mattress.

you didn’t notice how close he leaned until a soft kiss was placed on your cheek. “is this what you wanted?” he lifts your hips up which helps him sink deeper. “c’mon princess, this is what you want? me to fuck yo– fucking h...” he can feel you, he feels you. neteyam feels you and it feels so good.

you’re confident with your snarky responses and he found it hot. neteyam found everything hot about you but now you’re completely mushed up with his dick drilling into you and he knows you’re not satisfied yet.

“you’re not happy.” he tells you, it was obvious he had that cocky grin on his face. “want me to go faster, baby?” and he watches you nod, desperate and needy.

neteyam nodded, clicking his tongue before he sat up on his heels again. if you want it harder, then he will fuck you harder. you’re out of breath when he brought one of your legs by his waist while the other got pushed up to your chest.

“wait, net—!” you can’t even say a word when he hammers into you like an animal, full spread and energy filled. “like this?” neteyam tilts his head to the side, observing your twisted face.

“you want it like this?” he groaned, still pounding.

“yes.” you keened, “like that.” a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. “just like that.” you huffed.

you know you’re getting louder and so you bring your hand to cover your mouth, blocking the choked moan you’re voicing out. “no, don’t do that.” you feel a large hand pulling your hand from your face and greeted with a glare. “don’t cover yourself from me.”

your inside felt like it was burning, peak reaching and cool about to snap. you shake your head, eyes fluttering open to give your mate a pleading gaze. “you. are. cumming.” he mouths you, as if he's demanding for your release.

he tilted your pelvis one more and you knew it was over. you saw stars, your back arching from the mattress until the coil in you snapped causing your heat to spasm on neteyam’s.

left hand pulling on the bed sheet while the other slightly pushed neteyam by his pubic bone.

“don’t push me and take it, you wanted me to fuck you stupid remember?” you bring your head up, giving him a glare but his face said that only he did not care but he was proud of it too. his braids lying on his shoulder gracefully.

neteyam didn’t take much time either, eyes trained on the bouncing of your swelled tits. he was hooded and wanted to get to the finish line and so you helped him. “don’t hold back.” your voice was muffled at first.

“nete’” you purr at him, “don’t hold back.” you repeat and watch his pupil blowing wider. “you want me to cum?” he softly keens and you don’t hesitate when you nod, “please.” you practically beg and watch your man curse under his breath.

his long steady rolls were now deeper, casting your gummy walls and edging himself further. “in you?” he leans to nudge your nose, he wants to know if you’re comfortable with him doing that and his chest flicks with a tint of happiness when you nod, claiming you want all of him in you.

eventually everything came to an end; you moaning his name and accepting the torment he was giving you. his breath was ecstatic and shorter. “kiss me.” he says and you fulfill his wish, taking his lips in yours.

and it was hot. his load was heavy and warm when he painted your walls inside. fucking every drop of his seeds into you.

neteyam’s nose flared, calming himself with deep breaths as he braced himself on top of you. the sudden voice of yours pulls him back to reality.

“i won.” you giggle, fingers reading imaginary lines on his skin. “won what?” he was slightly confused at first. “i won with making you cum.” you say and he laughs, neteyam laughs.

“princess, i made you come first and you think you’re the one who won?” you were quick to defend yourself, you loved these types of post-sex arguments— which of course was not serious —. “but i still made yo—“ he pecks your lips, cutting you off.

“yeah and i never said i was holding back.” you stifle a laugh when he peepers kisses all over your face. “shut up!” your shoulder slacked in defeat but neteyam only laughed between kisses.

this were the moment you always wish eywa would never take away from you.

i liked this one! and you? — like + reblogs are appreciated! i love each and every one of you sm! mwah **

mentions : @sullybby @dilfverz @casiia @teytiri @theycallmesia @love-chx @gloryy-vs @eywas-heir (lmk if i forgot you)

[fangirlingsohardithurts]

An interview between Matt and Neil

Matt: Is that a fact?

Neil: I believe so-

Matt: -I’ve never taken a drug test

Neil: Yes you have

Matt: ???? No I haven’t, how you gonna tell me where I’ve peed?

Neil: *CONFUTION*

Matt: How you gonna tell me where my urine’s been?

Neil: Where were you when we were drug tested for college Exy?

Matt: They didn’t ever drug test me,

Neil: *Wow*

Matt: They never did, they drug tested you because they knew you’d always pass them. NEIL, there not gonna do our users on the team. I didn’t even use back then, but they were like he’s black!

Reference for the interview.

[di-42]

Apology of Aziraphale

Like for many of us, Good Omens has been an almost constant thought since when I watched season 2. Like many of us, I'm heartbroken and I need to make sense of something that appears to be senseless. Why were we led to believe we were in a much safer, if, admittedly, slightly less eventful, place for the whole season only to have our hearts mauled and our precious, peaceful  fragile existences turned upside down in the last 10 minutes?

So, like many of us, I immersed myself in fanart, fanfiction, more characters analysis than I can count and different interpretation pieces to try and make sense of it all and attempt to make it to season 3 (or the promised book, if it all goes horribly wrong) with some of my sanity left.

Although I am sure there must be analysis that read the (in)famous last 10 minutes the way I do -because I CAN'T be the only one- I am yet to read any.

So, though I'm no writer, I thought someone had to play, well, the Angel's advocate.

For the sake of brevity, I'm not going to consider the coffee theory, the body swap theory, the theories that see the Metatron offer as a genuine offer or the theories that see Aziraphale as a power-hungry angel (I mean, COME ON!)

The theories I'm going to confute here are the Aziraphale-still-thinks-heaven-is-good-and-can-be-fixed theory, the Aziraphale-hasn't-recovered-from-his-religious-trauma theory, the Aziraphale-wants-to-do-the-right-thing-even-if-it-means-sacrificing-his-own-happiness theory and the Aziraphale-is-lying-to-keep-Crowley-safe theory.

I do wholeheartedly agree with the theory that has the Metatron make an either, direct or indirect threat to Crowley's very existence were Aziraphale not to go to heaven. I believe this would be the only possible explanation for Aziraphale's choice, only not in the way it's been talked about so far.

It would also explain the narrative device of us (the audience) be shown the conversation between Aziraphale and the Metatron only through Aziraphale's recount of it. Not that it needs an explanation other than "we wanted to do it like that and if you don't like it you're at liberty to go". But still.

 Aziraphale-still-thinks-heaven-is-good-and-can-be-fixed theory

Good Omens is a story about Faith. Aziraphale is an Angel of Faith. Aziraphale has nothing but Faith. Aziraphale's Faith is unshakable. Going by what we are shown in season 2, Aziraphale's Faith lies entirely in Crowley. "I knew you would come through for me. You always do". In season one we see that he's not quite there yet up until just before the almost Armageddon and in the scenes set in the past his reactions at Crowley coming to the rescue are more "I was hoping but not assuming" rather than plain, confident Faith.

But in season 2 we are shown a different Angel. Someone, in another post, suggested that the minisodes in season 2 are in fact Aziraphale's memories, so we see them from his present day POV. I don't know if it's the case but it would make much sense as we see that Faith, that blind trust in Crowley that Aziraphale acquires during/just after almostgeddon in those minisodes. The whole season is shouting at us "The Angel trusts the Demon with his life! The Angel trusts the Demon with the humans' lives! With children's lives! The Angel trusts the Demon with his secrets, the Angel trusts the Demon with his bookshop, the Angel trusts the Demon with his magic tricks! The Angel trusts the Demon completely, blindly, unquestionably."Are you sure, angel?" "Yes, quite sure"; "I'm getting the humans out of here and then I'm coming back. I won't leave you on your own" "I know"; "I knew you would come through for me. You always do.".

Where does Heaven-is-good-and-can-be-fixed theory come into play in this? It doesn't. Aziraphale has all but forgotten heaven. He doesn't need it. It has been shown to Aziraphale, over and over, that heaven is not better than hell. Heaven is a distant, unpleasant memory of the past. It can be scary but it's certainly not where his Faith lies, certainly not something he sees as good, hasn't for a long time. Aziraphale is not a soldier of the army of Truth, Aziraphale is a heroic deserter of the army of Deception. "I've made my position quite clear". I believe we would be doing Aziraphale a great disservice if we quietly accepted that the Metatron's speech changed that quite clear position in a matter of minutes (or hours, or years, for that matters). If nothing else, I believe NG loves his and TP's child too much to set him back to a place where he thinks heaven is good and can be fixed.

So: Aziraphale thinks heaven is bad and can't be fixed.

Aziraphale-hasn't-recovered-from-his-religious-trauma theory

And thinks he can't love Crowley freely on Earth because that would be a sin. But he could love Crowley of a heavenly love were Crowley to become an Angel and that's why he let the Metatron convince him to return to heaven and take Crowley with him. He and Crowley can be together and be safe.

Have we watched the same series? Aziraphale is so ready! He's happily out on the other side waiting for Crowley to join him! I honestly think his arch regarding this is complete. He is a different character to the one we were introduced to at the beginning (and before the beginning, too), he's done the learning and the growing and HE. IS. READY.

Look at how comfortable he is when Crowley is around, look at his body language. Look at the way he looks at Crowley, well, always, but just to mention a few scenes: the apology dance, Crowley talking to Muriel about love; "smitten, I believe" and my favourite: the way Aziraphale looks at Crowley when Crowley mentions Alpha Centauri to Gabriel and Belzebub. Micheal-the-king-of-all-the-wild-acting-Sheen manages to makes his pupils dilate and tell us what Aziraphale is telling Crowley: "you are talking to me and I know you are talking to me. And I am ready. You just watch me pack my best waistcoats and we can be in Alpha Centauri tonight. I'll miracle an orchestra just so that you can invite me to dance and you'd better invite me to dance this time. I'll stare into your eyes for eternity and I'll kiss you and I'll love you like no one has ever loved before. And as soon as this lot is gone I'll tell you that because I. Am. So. Ready".

Aziraphale-wants-to-do-the-right-thing-even-if-it-means-sacrificing-his-own-happiness theory

Aziraphale senses that something is wrong and thinks that the only way to avoid disaster for humanity is an act of sabotage from the inside.

I believe this could be true to an extent (though I'm hoping to see something more dramatic that an act of sabotage) but I don't see it being the reason why he accepts the offer. It appears that Aziraphale learns about the Second Coming only after everything was said and done with Crowley and besides, didn't they manage to avoid Armageddon once before, the two of them together, from Earth? And if this was the reason he's accepting the offer, why hurt Crowley so badly? Aziraphale knows that Crowley won't go back to heaven, he knows that suggesting he be turned back into an Angel must be insulting, does he really believe this to be the best way to handle the situation? The Metatron might have been watching, someone will say but still, why hurt Crowley so much? He loves Crowley, he trusts him, did he really need to punch so low just to make him understand the gravity of the situation? It almost looked as he was deliberately trying to drive him away.

Which leads us to...

Aziraphale-is-lying-to-keep-Crowley-safe theory

This theory is the closest to what I believe happened in that it's based on the threat theory. The Metatron threatens Something Terrible will happen to Crowley unless Aziraphale goes back to heaven for good. Being erased from The Book Of Life comes to mind. That would of course be an ongoing, eternal threat to live under. Aziraphale can take Crowley to heaven as well, it doesn't really matter. If Crowley accepts, he will be reinstated as an angel so as not to cause too much trouble. If Crowley declines, it's just as well in the Metatron's eyes.

I'm not sure whether the Metatron really believes Aziraphale to be naive and easily manipulated or if he's having to make do with plan B given that (in my personal opinion) heaven doesn't actually have the Book Of Life and therefore can't take more drastic measures against Aziraphale and Crowley.

According to this theory, Aziraphale lies to Crowley as to what the real reason is of him accepting the offer. If he told the truth, Aziraphale knows Crowley will try and stop him,  will insist on running away together. Crowley won't care about the threat: the only way to keep Crowley safe is to hurt him, to break his heart.

Aziraphale knows that freedom is more important than safety for Crowley. Always going his own way, always asking questions.

Crowley WOULD tell the Metatron where to stick it.

Aziraphale knows that Crowley would always put freedom above safety. We have known Crowley for roughly 500 pages and 12 42-to-60 minute episodes and we know it, Aziraphale has known Crowley for over 6000 years, surely he must know too.

Except...

"I knew you would come through for me. You always do".

Crowley would always put freedom above his own safety.

"I knew you would come through for me. You always do".

But what would Crowley do once the penny dropped and he realised that he wouldn't be the only one in danger? That Aziraphale would be under threat too if he refused to go to heaven?

"I knew you would come through for me. You always do".

Crowley wouldn't allow any danger to come to Aziraphale and Aziraphale knows it only too well. Would Crowley just accept to part ways without the heartbreak, if he knew about the threat? If he knew this was the only real reason of Aziraphale "accepting" the offer? Would Crowley accept to part ways, knowing that Aziraphale is sacrificing everything? Knowing that Aziraphale would always be in danger anyway, no matter what? I believe Aziraphale thinks Crowley wouldn't just leave him. "I knew you would come through for me. You always do". 

I believe Aziraphale thinks, and I with him, that Crowley would hang his head low and follow Aziraphale to heaven, admitting defeat. 

I believe that over his dead, discorporated, erased from The Book Of Life body, would Aziraphale let that happen. Crowley, who gifted humanity with the ability to tell good from evil and the freedom to choose between the two, reduced to be an angel again at the mercy of heaven, deprived of free will. Aziraphale won't allow that. 

Aziraphale is not lying to keep Crowley safe. He's lying to keep Crowley free.

What Aziraphale will do is being the hero we always knew he was going to be. What Aziraphale will do is gifting Crowley the freedom he didn't know he was about to lose.

What Aziraphale will do is telling Crowley he's one of the bad guys but he can be turned good again and be second in command in heaven, nonetheless. The side of Truth, of Light. Aziraphale will listen to Crowley saying things that don't bear listening to right now and he will look at Crowley in the eye and tell him that nothing lasts forever. He will utter the words "I forgive you" after a kiss he has been longing for, for so long. He will break Crowley's heart and his own in the process but he'll make sure Crowley keeps his freedom, be that the last thing he does.

I believe that if we, the audience, had any doubt as to which side Aziraphale chooses, then we really weren't paying attention for the last 6000 years. 

I believe now it will be time for Crowley to complete his arch and do the growing and the learning. Wonderful, brave, generous, compassionate, wounded Crowley. He said "trust me", Crowley. He said "trust me".

But Angel, oh Angel. You, just like Crowley, mean so much to us. Oh, the magic of storytelling! You both really do mean so much to so many of us and we just want to take your hand and tell you that everything will be ok in the end. 

But there's sorrow on the way and pain and loneliness. And possibly another Armageddon to prevent.

But Angel, oh Angel. Don't lose your Faith. Ultimately, you do know it, do you not?

You know he will come through for you. He always does.

[burningvelvet]

random excerpts from lord byron’s diaries that feel like tumblr posts from the 1800s

“My mind is a fragment.”

“I am too lazy to shoot myself.”

“Here I am, alone, instead of dining at Lord H.'s, where I was asked—but not inclined to go any where. Hobhouse says I am growing a ‘loup garou,’ a solitary hobgoblin. True.”

“Sleepy, and must go to bed.”

“Whether ‘Hell will be paved with’ those ‘good intentions,’ I know not.”

“Got up—redde the Morning Post containing [..] a paragraph on me as long as my pedigree, and vituperative, as usual.”

“I wonder what the devil is the matter with me! I can do nothing, and fortunately there is nothing to do.”

“Last night, party at Lansdowne House. Tonight, party at Lady Charlotte Greville's—deplorable waste of time, and something of temper. Nothing imparted—nothing acquired—talking without ideas:—if any thing like thought in my mind, it was not on the subjects on which we were gabbling. Heigho!—and in this way half London pass what is called life. Tomorrow there is Lady Heathcote's—shall I go? yes—to punish myself for not having a pursuit.”

“What a strange thing is the propagation of life! A bubble of Seed which may be spilt in a whore’s lap – or in the orgasm of a voluptuous dream – might (for aught we know) have formed a Caesar or a Buonaparte.”

“Oh that face!—by te, Diva potens Cypri, I would, to be beloved by that woman, build and burn another Troy.”

“I have found increasing upon me (without sufficient cause at times) the depression of Spirits (with few intervals), which I have some reason to believe constitutional or inherited.”

“I shall soon be six-and-twenty (January 22d., 1814). Is there any thing in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?”

“Past events have unnerved me; and all I can now do is to make life an amusement, and look on while others play. After all, even the highest game of crowns and sceptres, what is it?”

“Redde a little—wrote notes and letters, and am alone, which Locke says is bad company. ‘Be not solitary, be not idle.’—Um!—the idleness is troublesome; but I can't see so much to regret in the solitude. The more I see of men, the less I like them. If I could but say so of women too, all would be well. Why can't I? I am now six-and-twenty; my passions have had enough to cool them; my affections more than enough to wither them,—and yet—and yet—always yet and but—‘Excellent well, you are a fishmonger—get thee to a nunnery.’—‘They fool me to the top of my bent.’” (Quotations from Hamlet)

“I wish I could settle to reading again,—my life is monotonous, and yet desultory. I take up books, and fling them down again. I began a comedy, and burnt it because the scene ran into reality;—a novel, for the same reason. In rhyme, I can keep more away from facts; but the thought always runs through, through ... yes, yes, through. I have had a letter from Lady Melbourne—the best friend I ever had in my life, and the cleverest of women.”

“As to opinions, I don't think politics worth an opinion.”

“Tells Dallas that my rhymes are very popular in the United States. These are the first tidings that have ever sounded like Fame to my ears—to be redde on the banks of the Ohio!”

“This journal is a relief. When I am tired—as I generally am—out comes this, and down goes every thing. But I can't read it over; and God knows what contradictions it may contain. If I am sincere with myself (but I fear one lies more to one's self than to any one else), every page should confute, refute, and utterly abjure its predecessor.”

“Mr. Murray has offered me one thousand guineas for The Giaour and The Bride of Abydos. I won't—it is too much, though I am strongly tempted, merely for the say of it. No bad price for a fortnight's (a week each) what?—the gods know—it was intended to be called poetry.”

“I will not be the slave of any appetite. If I do err, it shall be my heart, at least, that heralds the way. Oh, my head—how it aches?—the horrors of digestion! I wonder how Buonaparte's dinner agrees with him?”

“If I had to live over again, I do not Know what I would change in my life, unless it were for not to have lived at all. All history and experience, and the rest, teaches us that the good and evil are pretty equally balanced in this existence, and that what is most to be desired is an easy passage out of it. What can it give us but years? and those have little of good but their ending.”

[peakyltd]

New Endings - Part 3

Part 3 | Tommy Shelby x reader

A/N: Well this is posted later than I intended but I was struggling with this one and after working a little bit too long on it, idk what to think of it anymore 🥲 Anyway, I hope you'll still like it!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries, mentions of domestic violence/abuse.

Word count: 5.4k

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

Tommy held his aunt's displeased gaze, if her angry tone didn't already gave away how she felt, her eyes would for sure. "Did you forgot who her fiancé is? Who says we can trust her?"

"It's (Y/N), Pol." Tommy's toneless voice objected, not impressed by Polly's words. "You think people won't change? It���s our company that’s connected to the house, it’ll become a fucking target." She confuted.

Tommy had gathered Polly, Arthur, John and Michael for a family meeting in his office in Arrow House. He had enlightened them on the new situation and found details about David. Much doubt arose when he announced that (Y/N) stayed at the old family home, mostly from Polly who questioned her intentions or that from her fiancé.

“Ah c’mon Pol, d'you really think she’d try anythin'?” John turned in his chair to look at his aunt, his eyebrows furrowed. Not believing (Y/N) would have any intentions to screw them over.

“She won’t.” Tommy interrupted them as he leant back in his chair. He hadn't expect the backlash he just received, assuming they would all just accept it. The words of his aunt lingered in his head, maybe he was taking a risk but at the same time he didn’t believe (Y/N) would go against him. Not in the state he had found her in.

“She stays there. I’ll find her a home in the meantime.” He looked at each of his family members, a dominant look in his eyes, a sign that there was no room for negotiation. Something that didn’t work well on Polly. “You’re blinded, Thomas. Remember how it worked out for you the last time.”

Tommy clenched his jaw at her remark, annoyed that she brought up his late wife and the way she had lied to him. Despite the betrayal it didn’t stop him from loving her and forgiving her. Something Polly never did.

“I’m helping her so that bastard doesn’t kill her.”

Michael cleared his throat, the tension between Polly and Tommy was clearly palpable and it made him feel uncomfortable. “With who is David involved with?” He wondered, recalling the information Tommy gave them earlier. “I don’t know yet.”

“We’ll keep an eye on that bloody bastard, right Tom?” Arthur looked at his younger brother, showing him that he got his back. “We do.”

Polly shook her head. “Isn’t this place big enough?" She referred to Arrow House. "You have plenty of space for a guest.”

“She felt safe at Watery Lane.” Tommy directed his attention back to his aunt. Polly narrowed her eyes. “That’s what she tells you.”

Tommy sighed as he kept his gaze on her. “Thank you all for coming.” His brothers and cousin got up to leave the office together, unlike Polly, who remained in her chair with her arms crossed.

“You’re dismissed Pol, free to go.” He bossed her while he put his glasses on his nose and took a folder with documents from his desk.

“You wouldn’t let her stay here, do you?” Polly sneered at him. He looked up over his glasses. “I wouldn’t want to give off the wrong ideas now, do I?”

A humorless laugh fell off her lips. “Please, Thomas don’t-“ Tommy slammed the folder on the desk, making Polly slightly jump at the sudden noise. “Listen to me, eh?! She's no bad news. We’ll go see her tomorrow and you’ll see with your own bloody eyes what happened. I’m not fucking stupid Pol.”

Polly let the silence after Tommy's finished sentence surround them for a moment as she stood up. She walked over to his desk and leaned over it, pointing her finger in his face. “You don’t realize what you got yourself into.” Her eyes were boring into his, showing him that she meant it.

Rays of sunlight streamed trough the small gaps of the curtain, touching (Y/N)'s face in a kind way. The soft light slowly awoke her from her peaceful rest. She snuggled into the blanket as she opened her eyes, carefully taking in her surroundings. Her mind took her back to the events of the day before, just like it did during the night until exhaustion took her into it's arms and gave her the rest she so desperately needed.

The room felt safe and if she could, she would lock herself in there so she didn't have to worry about anyone. Unfortunately things weren't that easy and she had to prepare herself for her new future, something new and unknown.

She sat up and put the pillow against the metal bedframe. While she got comfortable, she looked around the room. It was exactly how she remembered it, the flower pattern on the wallpaper, the chair next to the bedside table and the tapestry that hung next to the bed. It was as if the younger versions of both her and Tommy could walk trough the door at any moment. The sigh that left her mouth was slow as she reminded herself of easier times.

She got up and changed into the dress that Tommy had left for her before opening the curtains. The sky had replaced the somber grey colors for a calm blue one, clouds were dappled here and there. Golden threads of the morning sun directly shined into the bedroom, a smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she looked outside. It felt as if this was nature's way to tell her that she made the right decision. Or well, she would like to believe it was.

She turned away from the window and left the room to make her way downstairs where she got herself a cup of tea. The kitchen didn't offer her the same safe feeling as Tommy's bedroom did, making her feel like some kind of intruder in a place where she shouldn't be.

She looked up at the clock on the wall, no idea on what to do next. Her belongings were not with her, she didn't dare to set a foot outside and she didn't know when or if Tommy came back today.

The sound of footsteps made her snap out of her thoughts as her heartbeat exceeded. "Good morning, love."

"Polly..." She breathed out the visitors name while she tried to keep her composure, knowing her voice had probably betrayed her already. She hadn't expect to see Tommy's aunt, at least not yet. "Good morning."

"It's been a while." The dark haired woman looked at her as a small smile played on her lips. While she eyed the younger woman in front of her, she let Tommy's words play trough her head again. He was convinced that they could trust (Y/N) however there was something that didn't sat right with her.

"It is." (Y/N) returned a small smile. "Would you like some tea? I just made some." She asked Polly, her hands trembled slightly while she put her cup on the table.

"I'll get it myself." Polly answered before taking off her coat and hanging it on the rack. "How have you been?"

"Well..." She let her hands rest on the back of a chair that stood by the table. "I'm alright."

"Alright?" Polly filled a cup and turned to face her. "If you were alright, I don't think you would be here." She pointed out while she sat down at the table. "I-"

"Please take a seat." Polly interrupted her, directing her with her eyes. Her gaze did not leave the woman in front of her until she sat down. "I heard you were engaged."

"I am. For a while actually." (Y/N) confirmed while she twisted the ring around her finger. She felt her palms getting sweaty, unable to tell why she felt so nervous all of sudden. Polly had always been good to her and they got along from the moment they had met.

Polly sipped on her tea, letting the silence linger for a while before she spoke up again. "You're living in London now?" (Y/N) nodded in response. "Yes." She wasn't able to stand the long silences Polly used after her answers. "It's been very different from what I was used to."

"Better?" The older woman asked her. (Y/N) shrugged. "In some ways."

"I think London is convenient for your fiancé's work, isn't it?" Polly's head was slightly tilted backwards as she looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, (Y/N) broke the eye contact and looked down at the table. "It is. Easier for the distribution of the car parts."

"I see." Polly noticed that the behavior of the woman in front of her was different, nothing like she had remembered. She noticed the bruises in her neck and on her arms, which she had tried to cover up with the dress she was wearing. Her confident appearance was replaced with fear and shame. "And now you're here."

(Y/N) felt Polly's gaze almost burning into her skin. Her questions made her wonder what else she knew about her life or David's. She just nodded, thinking about a way to tell her without making it too complicated for herself. "I couldn't take it anymore." Her voice was soft, almost too scared to admit it.

"Tommy told me." Polly's expression softened as she started to feel pity for her. "I didn't expect him to help me." (Y/N) dared to look up at her again as she heard a soft laugh coming from her mouth. "He's full of surprises lately."

The sound of the front door alerted both of them. She felt her body tense as she looked at the opening that led to the small hallway where a familiar man had showed up.

"Did I miss the tea party?" Tommy's low voice filled the room while he walked in, giving his aunt a stern look.

"You did." Polly shot back at him, unfazed by his attitude. "Very eager to come see her, eh?" He sneered, annoyed by the fact his aunt didn't listen to him. "I thought she'd like some company." Polly fake smiled at him, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

Tommy took his cap off and put it on the table in front of him before sitting down. "Would you like some tea?" (Y/N) questioned, already getting up to get him some.

"No. I won't be here long." He leaned back in the chair, looking at her the way Polly did, waiting for her to sit back down. "Oh, okay." She sat back on her chair. "I guess you've already discussed a few things?" Tommy asked, referring to Polly's early visit.

"We did." Polly answered before drinking some of her tea. "Good." Tommy redirected his attention back to (Y/N). "We might have a house for you, it's not much but it's safe. You'll be able to move there in a few weeks."

"A house? Tommy..." While she was lost for words, she tried to let the new information sink in. Tommy took a wad of cash out of his pocket, shoving an amount of it, her way. "This is for food and clothes. Finn can get you some groceries." He assured her while glancing at his aunt who's dark eyes were almost burning holes into his skin. "And I'm sure Polly wouldn't mind to buy you a few dresses."

"No. No I can't take this." She pushed the money back to him. "You did enough already, I don't even know how I have to pay you back." She was taken aback by his gesture, it was way too much.

"You don't have to pay me back. Just take it." He shoved it back to her way, putting the rest of his money back in his pocket. "I know it's not the same as your belongings but this is what I can do for now."

"Oh no... Please don't worry about it. I'm... I just don't know what to say." It didn't felt right to take his money. She wasn't sure if it was because it came from Tommy or that things just went way too fast but either way it made her feel uncomfortable.

"You don't have to say anything. It's yours." He assured her while he got up, grabbing his cap off the table. (Y/N) looked up at him, shaking her head. "I can't-"

"You can." Tommy put his cap back on his head. "Can I at least invite you dinner for tonight? I can't just take it without doing anything back." She offered, it was the least she could do.

He looked at her in silence while blinking a few times. "If you insist." She nodded. "I insist. 7 PM? "

"I’ll see you tonight."

Plates were neatly put across from each other and the bottle of whiskey was already waiting to be opened. Food was almost finished and even though she was a bit late there was no need to hurry since there was still no sign of Tommy.

Knowing he was always on time, she started to worry. Maybe something had happened to him or maybe he changed his mind about the dinner. But if it was the last thing, he would’ve let her know. Right?

She cleaned her hands after she turned the stove off and peeked trough the window. The streets were pretty calm, except for a few people here and there but none of them was the one she was looking for. She decided to wait a little longer and sat down at the table, opening the book Polly had brought her, along with her new clothes and groceries.

It was a welcome distraction for the time she had to kill because much later than expected, Tommy finally entered the house.

She put her book down and looked up at him. "Is everything alright?" She asked him while he took off his cap and coat and sat down at the table. "Everything's alright." He looked at her when she gazed quickly over at the clock. "A little inconvenience at one of the factories." He added, addressing the fact why he was late.

An embarrassed feeling went trough her body when she noticed he caught her looking at the clock, not wanting to give him a feeling as if she was anxiously waiting for him. "Oh, no don't worry. I already thought that it had something to do with... business." She half lied, leaving out the fact that she was worried.

Tommy nodded as he observed her, noticing her new dress and the make up she was wearing. "I like the dress." He boldly told her, making her smile in response. "Thank you. I like it too, Polly got exactly what I wanted."

"I'm glad." He replied as he watched her get up. "You must be hungry." She assumed when she got his plate and took it to the stove. "I made roasted chicken and baked potatoes with cheese."

"It smells nice." He admitted while she put his plate back in front of him. She opened the bottle of whiskey and poured him a glass. "Thank you."

When she got herself a plate as well and had poured herself a glass of wine, she sat across from him. An uneasy feeling crept up on her, it felt weird to have dinner with him after everything that had happened. The only thing that made her feel better was that he didn't seemed as tensed as he was that morning.

"I hope you'll enjoy your meal." She politely smiled at him as she cut a piece of her chicken. "I think I will." He responded before taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Were you able to get some sleep last night?" Tommy wondered, he had noticed that she looked less exhausted than the evening prior. "Yes, a bit but enough to feel better than yesterday."

He nodded as he calmly ate his food. She eyed him carefully, becoming more aware of the things she had already seen in The Garrison. The tired look on his face and the lack of happiness in his eyes were a big contrast to what she had remembered. She thought back at the words he had said to her in the pub, their kiss and how she hit him after. She had felt a yearning to go back and undo what was done. What she did was equally as bad as the things David did.

"I'm sorry." She blurted out, earning a confused look from Tommy. "For what?"

She looked down at the table, feeling insecure under his intense stare. "Hitting you. You know... at The Garrison. After you-." She stammered, feeling stupid that she wasn't able to get out one proper sentence.

"It was very painful, y'know." He deadpanned. She looked up at him, a hint of guilt in her eyes until she realized he was joking. "I'm serious Tommy." He leant back and took a sip of his whiskey. "Me too, that ring hurts."

She parted her lips to speak up but didn't know what to say. A small smile appeared on his face. His attempts to be funny didn't gave her the chance to explain her feelings. "I felt really bad."

"Don't." He assured her, his way to ease her feelings. "You're not angry about it?" Tommy shook his head. "No, 'm not."

She was relieved that he wasn't mad about what she did although his short answers didn't gave her full satisfaction, wondering if he maybe didn't want to talk about it. While Tommy continued eating the food she made, she wondered if the silence had become a family thing since the conversation with Polly wasn't really flowing either. "So..." She awkwardly started, trying to bend the conversation into a different subject.. "How's the family been?"

"Good." He put the cutlery down. "Arthur got married, John became a father again, Ada and Finn are doing well." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" She marveled with a small smile on her face. "That's great news."

"I guess it is." Tommy filled his glass with whiskey once more. His comment made her wonder what he meant but she decided to leave it. "Finn must've changed a lot."

"He did grew up, yeah."

"I remember I caught him smoking when he was just a little boy." She chuckled softly. "Probably wasn't the first and the last time." Tommy snorted lightly as the corner of his lips turned slightly upwards. He couldn't keep count on the numerous of times he had caught the young boy with a cigarette in his mouth.

(Y/N) shared a little more about her memories of the Shelby's as it seemed to be the easiest way to make a conversation with the one in front of her. While they finished their dinner and drank some more, he attentively listened to her stories.

"Well, I think I'll have to thank you for dinner, eh?" Tommy had turned his chair to look at her while she was doing the dishes. He had taken his suit jacket off, leaving him in his dress shirt and vest. "You're not staying for a drink?"

"I've already had a few." He stated as he saw how her lips turned into a smile. "I can get you a glass of water." Her witty comment made him think of the many she used to make all the time. "I'd rather not."

While she dried the last plate, she turned to look at him. "Then at least stay for one more?" She asked him. Despite their dinner starting off awkward, she ended up enjoying it and she wouldn't mind to chat a bit more. "Alright then."

Once she finished, they both moved to the small living room where they sat across from each other. The fireplace warmed the room and a few candles were spread trough the place, the flames glowing on their faces.

"The whole house is exactly like I remember it." She giggled, the wine had given her a little more confidence but also helped her to feel at ease. Tommy looked around, nodding his head slowly. "Not much has changed."

"It's weird to think about how it looks like time stood still while everyone's lives has changed so much." She concluded as her eyes fell on a picture of the three brothers, Tommy was no older than 19. Tommy's gaze moved to the picture before looking at her. "Everyone's lives or our lives?"

(Y/N) turned her head to meet his eyes and shrugged, not expecting his question as it seemed he wanted to keep a distance in every conversation that night. "Both, maybe." Tommy swirled his whiskey in his glass. "Do you think you'd be still living around here, if you didn't meet David?"

She thought about his question. "Maybe, yes. I don't think London is where I belong." She pulled her knees up and let her legs rest on the sofa she was sitting on. "It's too busy, I guess. The people are different as well."

"How did you meet him?" Tommy asked while he leaned his arms on the chair, curious about how she met him. "At a party, in a club. Also in London." She took a sip of her wine. "A friend invited me. He was there with a group of his friends and he came to the rescue when some Italian was bothering me." She smiled at the memory. "We hit it off pretty well and it turned out the Italian was friend of his who had a few too many drinks."

Tommy nodded once more, replaying the words in his head. This could be information that would help him find the missing link he was looking for, it confirmed his suspicion.

"For how long have you been engaged now?" He continued asking about her relationship. "6 months. He promised he'd do better so I said yes."

"But he didn't." He concluded. "No." She looked at the fireplace as she thought about the past few years. "For how long have you been married?"

"A few months." (Y/N) saw Tommy's eyes change, although his expression remained the same. "Did you love her?"

"I did." He sighed after he finished his whiskey. "Yeah.."

"I'm sorry Tommy." She immediately apologized. She didn't want her curiosity to be the reason behind a ruined night as it appeared to be a sensitive topic. He shook his head, his eyes finding hers again. "No, it's okay."

They both remained silent, thinking about their lives and how things could've ended so differently. (Y/N) decided to get up and get herself another glass of wine. She passed the chair where Tommy was sitting and gently took the glass out of his hand. Their fingers touched briefly, sending a kind of warm sensation trough his body. He looked up at her, her eyes meeting his as they locked their gaze for a moment. His electric blue eyes stared directly into hers, just like they had done many times before. A familiar feeling found it's way in her stomach before she looked away. "I'm- I'll get you a new one." She mumbled before making her way to the kitchen.

Her heart was beating faster as she leaned against the counter, not fully understanding what her body tried to tell her. While she took the time to get herself together, she decided to just blame it on the alcohol.

When she returned with their drinks, she found him smoking in his chair while he let his head rest on his other hand. His eyes were staring at the table. She stopped in front of him, getting his attention as he looked up. “Are you okay?” She asked before handing him his glass.

He blew smoke out of his mouth while he sat up. “I am.” Her hand found its way to his cheek as she gently stroked his skin with her thumb, a way to comfort him. Their eyes finding each other again while she continued. He had missed the genuine and gentle touches of solace. The contact of her skin on his, made him crave for more. Just as he wanted to lean into her touch, she pulled her hand away. Taking the comfort only she could give, with her.

She hadn’t expected to be so drawn to the urge to touch him. Usually she wouldn’t dare and she wasn’t even sure if he was okay with, although his intense stare almost assured her that she was doing something right. The increase of confidence from the alcohol was helping her more than she realized, it could be a good time to use it while it lasted.

“Can I ask you something?” She sat back on the sofa as she watched him finish his cigarette. “You can.”

“Did you mean it what you said? That the ring on my finger should’ve been yours?” Tommy blinked a few times before nodding slowly. “You know I did.”

“Then why did you let me go in the first place?” She let her fingers slide over the stem of her wineglass, the wait for his answer forming an unknown feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Because this life’s not a life where you belong. We'd be better off without each other.”

She remembered the countless arguments that started that last conversation which broke her heart. She didn’t want to give up on him, on them but he forced her to. He forced her out of his life as if it was nothing, as if she was nothing but just an erased memory.

She remembered the evening he told her it was for the best if they didn't saw each other anymore. It was for the best he said but in the end nothing turned out for the best.

She remembered how he told her how life was going to be from that moment, that she had no choice if she stayed but that the exact life within her choice, wasn’t one she belonged to. His words were harsh and his demeanor was cold, as if he didn’t want to understand her feelings or might as well pretended that he didn’t. Only to make it easier for himself.

She remembered how she called him a selfish bastard, how she hated him and how he just stared at her, saying nothing.

“You could’ve protected me and still let me live my own life.” Tommy shook his head as stubbed out his cigarette. “You hated how there were people always watching you, remember the many times you told me it was suffocating you? It only became worse after that, you wouldn’t be happy.”

She couldn’t deny the suffocating feeling it gave her, knowing that everywhere she went, there would be someone watching her. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. But she loved him deeply and a part of her didn't care anymore, as long as she could be with him. “I loved you, do you realize that?”

He sighed softly at her words before taking a sip of his drink. “You think I didn’t love you?”

“No… not the way you left me heartbroken with a shit explanation in the middle of the same fucking kitchen we just had our dinner in. If you really loved me, you would’ve listened to me but you never did.” Her words held the anger she had for years but still came out calmly. "And don't even get me started on how quick you fucking replaced me, that's not love."

Tommy clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I listened (Y/N). I always fucking listened but I knew it would never make you happy. I never would. And talking about replacing, eh? I fucking told you I didn't replace you. Have you forgotten how I went looking for you after you left?"

She scoffed as she listened to him. “Oh yeah, because you were so sorry. So sorry for yourself, that you ended up alone again." Her voice became louder, just like the anger within her. "If you really wanted to find me, you would. Just like a few weeks ago."

"You didn't want to be found." He defended, getting annoyed at her accusations. "Not after what you did, no."

He shook his head as he put his glass on the table, a little harsher than expected. “You wouldn’t be happy but I wanted you to be.” He pointed his finger at her. “I didn’t want to throw away the years we had and I didn’t want to break your fucking heart but I knew how much you loved your fucking freedom and I didn’t want to be the person that would take it away from you.”

She looked at him, his words hitting her in a way she didn’t expect. His voice was strong and determined. She wasn't sure if it was anger or not. “You were always that strong, independent woman. Always out there to do whatever you wanted. Who the fuck was I to take it away from you, eh? You know it would’ve made you unhappy. Love wouldn’t have changed that.”

“I still am.” Her words sounded soft as she disagreed with his statement. “What?” His eyebrows furrowed at her comment. “I’m still the same woman. You said were.”

“Please, have you looked…” Tommy didn’t finish his sentence, instead he took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Her body tensed and her eyes narrowed as she waited for to finish his sentence. “Have I looked, what?”

“Have you looked at yourself?” He continued his abruptly stopped sentence. He sat up straight, his voice picking up the same tone as before. “You’re far from that. The woman I knew would’ve dared to yell in my face if I deserved it, she would speak up when no one else would and she wouldn’t take shit from anybody.”

(Y/N) gulped at his words, tears brimmed in her eyes as she kept his gaze, listening to the other things he had to say.

“The woman in front of me is a ghost of all of that. The spark in your eyes is gone and all I see is fear. You changed in the worst way and it’s because of him. He fucking ruined you (Y/N).”

She sniffled softly, as she tried not to break down in front him. He was right.

Tommy's eyes did not leave her frame. She tried to take a deep breath, ready to speak up but she couldn't. He moved to the edge of his seat to place a hand on her knee, squeezing it gently.

"You're nothing better." She choked on her words as she watched his thumb moving in patterns over her knee. "I would've ended up the same as I stayed with you." Of course he wasn't the same as David but her life wouldn't have looked much different than from what it did now.

Her mind took her back to David who told her so many times how much he loved her. Who always made it up to her after his outbursts, telling her how sorry he was and that he would do better. He did, even if it only lasted for a few days until he fell back in old patterns. Despite it all, she still loved him, or at least she thought she did. Perhaps it could be the fear speaking, that when she told herself she didn't, he'd come find her.

Tommy shook his head as he felt himself losing his temper. There were many people who held grudges against him and those also brought many accusations however being compared to David was something completely new.

"If you ended up the same, then please enlighten me on the last time I caused this." He grabbed her arm and lifted her sleeve a little harsher than intended, revealing her bruised arm.

She gasped and looked up at him with widened eyes. "Stop, Tommy." While he let go of her arm, she quickly pulled her sleeve down. "I never laid one single finger on you, now tell me again that I'm nothing better than that fucking bastard!" His voice was harsh and full of bitterness. "I don't understand why you keep fucking defending him while nothing like this looks like the love you've been desperately looking for."

She watched him get up and looked up as he towered over her. His words hitting her like he hoped they did, an attempt to wake her up and make her realize what she was doing.

"If you want to go back to him, then please go but remind yourself that if you stay with him, you'll end up six feet under within a year. And he wouldn't even be sorry."

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Taglist: @cyphah @kissforvoid @liter4ti

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Did you know that after decades of research, not a single psychological diagnosis has been definitively linked to an underlying socio-political condition? That’s right, no so-called “mental illness” has been shown to invariably and exclusively stem from some unitary position in society, the political order, or the economic structure underlying both—the standard generally accepted in serious scientific research

This is not to deny that so called psychological illnesses, like all mental properties, are ultimately instantiated in the social body; we are, after all, fundamentally social beings. But it is to confute that we should look to social change as some kind of holy grail in treating these alleged psychological deficits, and the sociopolitical-cum-economic determinism on which these hopes are explicitly founded

[insert several paragraphs repeating these points at length and watering down any bold assertions to the point of near meaninglessness; some Theory jargon thrown in for good measure]

I encourage everyone to do their own research when considering promised political solutions to their mental afflictions, and to consider a broader range of possibilities than those condoned under the limited theoretical paradigms generally current in anti-psychiatry

[gojuo]

Cannot stand rhaenicent shippers attempt to justify the bad writing for Alicent ("she can’t tell the difference between being her own and being rhaenyra’s") 🙄. They think of Alicent's children as nothing but "rape babies": https://www.tumblr.com/visenyaism/757987389427875840/they-butchered-alicent-so-bad?source=share

Anon I cannot even begin to describe to you the full extent of my exhaustion with this show and with the morons who continue to try their damned hardest rationalizing away these unprofessional writers' apalling writing decisions. To be frank, I can no longer engage with this show through Watsonian ways. The writing in HOTD is genuinely that bad, that blatant, that disrespectful, that biased and that much unintellectual. It's terrible really. I just can't take the writing seriously anymore, nor can I give any weight to any Watsonian meta on HOTD either. Therefore, I won't confute OP's post. Next to the fact that I don't like to vaguepost, there have been countless others far smarter and more eloquent than me who have argued the writers' decision to write Alicent that way in that scene.

Oh, and also, I'm done with morons who keep saying Alicent is an evil stepmother-caricature in the book. Alicent's simple characterization in F&B was not and has never been limited to being Rhaenyra's prissy stepmother. Alicent was a mother to her own children besides. Enough with forcing book!Alicent to be nothing more than Rhaenyra's stepmom already, fucking jesus...

[kruegerslov3r]

nail polish mishap

USE OF Y/N, DAD!SIMON RILEY

Simon sat back on the couch, glancing at the TV where colorful characters danced across the screen. His daughter, Freya, sat cross-legged on the floor, her tiny fingers carefully clutching a bottle of neon pink nail polish.

"Daddy, look, I’m doing it all by myself!" Freya giggled, her eyes sparkling with pride.

Simon chuckled, unable to contain his amusement. "That's great, sweetheart. But be careful, okay?"

"I promise, Daddy," Freya responded, her tongue sticking out in concentration.

Simon turned his attention back to the TV, his mind drifting away until a loud gasp followed by a string of muffled words caught his attention. He turned around to find Freya staring wide-eyed at the carpet where a bright pink puddle was spreading.

"Oh no," Freya moaned, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to! It's on the carpet, Daddy!"

Simon sighed, not wanting to scold his daughter for this confution. "It's okay, sweetie. Accidents happen." He hastily grabbed a cloth to clean up the mess.

Y/n walked in at that moment, taking in the scene with a bemused smile. "What's going on here?"

Simon glanced at Freya. "Just a little nail polish mishap".

[blueiscoool]

Archaeologists Discovered Large Roman Baths Under Museum in Croatia

The pool, mosaic floors and underfloor heating once formed part of Emperor Diocletian’s palace.

Archaeologists working to install a lift and restore the ground floor of Split City Museum got more than they bargained for when they unearthed sizable Roman baths underneath the building’s reception. The museum in Croatia’s second largest city was founded in 1946 and is held inside the Dominik Papalić palace—the former home of the affluent Papalić family who settled in Split during the 14th century.

The baths are in a well-preserved condition and include a pool, mosaic floors, ancient underfloor heating, an oil and grape press, and a furnace. Communal bathing was common across the Roman Empire, and baths acted as a space for relaxation and socializing.

The Split baths are believed to have been part of Diocletian’s Palace, built in the city at the end of the 3rd century for the Roman emperor’s retirement. The large fortress once spanned half of Split’s Old Town, and parts of the palace’s remains are listed UNESCO World Heritage Sites. The discovery of these Roman baths confute historians’ previous understandings about the layout of the ancient complex.

he repairs were planned as part of the “Palace of Life, City of Change” project, which is described as an “integrated program of development of the visitor infrastructure of the Old City Core with Diocletian’s palace.”

Split lies on the Adriatic Sea coast and was founded in the 3rd century B.C.E. as a Greek colony (then known as Aspálathos). Split’s landscape is made up of myriad architectural styles spanning hundreds of years, from classical ruins to Venetian Gothic structures. The director of the Split City Museum Vesna Bulić Baketić, spoke about the city’s rich architectural composition, “the fact that all of these layers of earlier buildings that once made up the city are visible inside the Split City Museum provides this museum with additional value that is exceptionally rare.”

The museum plans to open up part of the newly discovered baths to the public, once the structural integrity of the building has been ensured. The ground floor will also be restructured to celebrate the new discovery. “Showing our visitors the ‘living past’ that speaks to us through the original layers of centuries long gone adds insurmountable value and legacy to future generations,” Baketić said. “It is up to us to carry this out in the best and most professional way.”

By Verity Babbs.

[wendelsae]

I think the great poet must love & fear the gods, praise & blame kings, treat all nations & sects with mild scorn, and confute the lies of priests.

[apogean-tides]

Runaan, addressing his team: There have been accusations of me showing blatant favouritism. Runaan: I would like to confute this by saying that I love all my students equally, it's just that some are more equal than others.

[little-de-vil]

19, 20, & 22 for dealers choice!

Babe, this took me so long so I really hope you like it!🥺🥺🥺

From this ask game:

19. How do they silently/subtly express their love for each other? I’ll be talking about both The Happy Couple (Celeste and Vance) and 27 (Madon and Lathe Sheraton) I have a thing to S last names, I guess, his partner from 7. I wanted to differentiate they way each couple expresses their physical love not just because they are their own couple, but because of their circumstances and the way they move about the world. For Celeste and Vance, I wanted their relationship to be around consent. When Celeste first saw Vance after he won, she asked if she could take his hand; from then on, I realized that their love comes from consent and autonomy, especially with Vance! To quote my girlfriend 3 times when I first told her this: “like the idea of acknowledging that u will never fully know another person’s comfort levels within a specific moment is so real! and genuine and humble!!!!” / “and Lest asking that question is such a lovely question bc it’s telling the other person: i have your best intentions in mind and this is not a solely self-serving, righteous act i’m going to do by offering comfort. and acknowledging that they’re going to do what’s best for the other person.” / “BECAUSE THEY UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCEEEEE (of consent). AND NEVER MAKE IT SEEM LIKE A HASSLE. ITS HOW THEY SHOW LOVE!!!” I really just wanted them to be open about how and when they are confutable with showing their love. As for 27, they are the opposite side of the spectrum depending on their location! If they’re in 7, they are not as open with their physical affection because they don’t really need to be, they don’t have to prove their love. Not to say that the Happy Couple needs to prove theirs, but it’s different for the boys. They aren’t watched the same way they are if they had met in the Capitol, it’s honest, not voyeristic. They’re usually apart, not physically close, but they treasure quiet moments together, whether it be working side by side at Lathe’s family shop or just in the woods, a few yards apart, taking in the beauty. But when they’re in the Capitol it’s a whole different ball game! They are not overly affectionate, but they can seem to overcompensate their love by being very physical.  Wren is so antithetical to his parents love. He's so aware of him and his partners body and how their love is so open and unasked; so fully known by both parties. To once again quote my girlfriend, “at some stage in a relationship, there’s blanket consent. like u don’t have to ask ur partner every time if u can kiss them bc it’s implied yes :’).”

20. What clothes/accessories do they steal from each other? This has been so hard for me to answer because I’m so not silly/goofy about my OCs, I take this very seriously & this is such a cute silly/goofy question lol. But if I really had to think about it, I would say Lathe usually steals Wren’s fancy jewelry in the Capitol, which he doesn’t really care about EXCEPT FOR HIS EARRINGS, DON’T TOUCH THOSE! Madon tends to take Lathe’s flannels so much so that Lathe’s grandmother stitches Madon’s name onto one of his to designate it as his own. His old Peacekeeping buddies there joke around that he looks more like a tradesman than an army grunt, but then again he’s never been one for uniforms.

22. How do they apologize after arguments? This is usually the case for the Happy Couple, after lots of separation to process not only the argument but their response, they tend to come together and just talk. A lot of their relationship is based on communication and honesty, and because they are both two people with vasts knowledge and experiences of truly horrific things, they know it’s best of not hold that all in. So, they talk over a few drinks and maybe a cigar when the kids are asleep, sometimes late at night walking around the gardens.

[twst-cuts-deep]

“did i take the last hit on purpose” ... .ᐣ you ... you idiot .ᐟ i never had the slightest intention to lose .ᐟ i really wanted to nab a win against you this time , so i tried my utmost hardest .ᐟ but dammit , i still couldn’t ... there couldn’t be anything more frustrating than this .ᐟ

— 7 . 86 // an emotional confute . . . ⚡️