#we got issues

[angloirishnolanist]

hi love! hope you’re doing well. can I make a request for a wgi ficlet please? would love to see cill taking care of Clíodhna on his own, for the day. maybe mammy has gone out for the day and clee is about 2 years old? think it would be so cute to see cill in solo daddy mode🫶🏼

Hey! I'm good, I hope you are too. So, so sorry it's taken me a a long while to get to you. I hope it's worth the wait.

We Got Issues Fictlet Request

"Sandwich." Cillian pointed at the folded piece of bread on Clíodhna's highchair tray. "Cheese sandwich for Clíodhna - ceapaire cáise." He tapped the tray beside the bread. "Are you going to eat this once, or will it be on the floor?" He smirked.

Clíodhna reached out her hand and picked up the bread, squishing it in her pudgy hand. "Sabbidge." She held it out to him.

Cillian nodded his head, "Yeah, sandwich. Eat it." He mimicked chewing, "Eat the sandwich and we'll find some strawberries, will we?"

Clíodhna grinned, her milky teeth gleaming. "Stawbees!"

"Sandwich first." Cillian raised his eyebrows. "Clíodhna can eat it, yeah? Eat up! Ith suas!" He smiled at her as she finally took a bite. "Now..." He watched her carefully, "Isn't it good?"

"Daddy have." Clíodhna thrust her hand out again, waving the bread at Cillian.

"No, sure it's Clíodhna's lunch. You eat it!" He laughed at her.

Dropping the bread back onto the tray, Clíodhna shook her head and held out both hands. "Done, Daddy."

"You are not!" He laughed again. "C'mon, leanbh, eat up."

"Stawbees!" Clíodhna forced a pout, "Daddy, my have stawbees now."

Cillian shook his head, "Will you not eat the sandwich? Here, will I get the strawberry water? You may have that while you eat your sandwich."

"Stawbees!" Clíodhna bellowed, arching her back in the chair and groaning. "Out! Daddy, my out!" She held both arms out to Cillian. "My out, Daddy!"

Cillian sighed. "You're not going to eat the sandwich?"

Clíodhna shook her head and made grabby hands towards him, "My out!"

"Ah, missus, you're a nightmare." Cillian smiled as he hoisted her free of her highchair and held her to his hip. "Well, what are we at then if you're not going to be eating your lunch?"

"My stawbees, gummagat." Clíodhna grinned.

Cillian smirked and shook his head, "Go raibh maith agat. Clever girl. Though I sense a wee bit of manipulation in that, leanbh!" He walked to the fridge, with Clíodhna still on his hip, and pulled open the door. "We'll find some strawberries, will we? How many?"

Clíodhna held up her little hand, displaying all five fingers. "Cúig!"

"You're a bilingual little sod today..." Cillian chuckled, and reached into the crisper draw and pulled out the punnet of strawberries. "Ah, here... there's only four left, leanbh. We'll have to buy more. Will you eat the four? Is that enough for the queen?" He smiled as he held the punnet out towards her. "Count them, smartiepants."

"One...two....fee...four!" Clíodhna proclaimed and applauded herself cheerfully.

"As gaeilge?" Cillian chanced his luck, expecting refusal, and bounced her a little with his arm. "Can you do it?"

"A haon, ...a..." Clíodhna frowned deeply, then looked at Cillian. "My eat stawbees?"

"Cheater!" Cillian laughed, and kissed her forehead before he crouched to place her down on her feet. He handed her the punnet and pulled the remainder of the loose celephane lid away. "Now - there y'are."

"Daddy some?" Clíodhna reached her left hand inside immediately and pulled a strawberry out, piercing it with her thumb at the same time.

Cillian pulled a face, "Ah no. You eat them, pet." He left her with the punnet as he got to his feet. "Will I clean away your mess, hmm?" Clíodhna toddled off, stuffing the strawberry into her mouth as she headed into the living room. "Here missus, don't be getting those all over Mammy's rug - she'll go demented." He called out, as he halfheartedly cleaned up her highchair before following her path into the living room. He smiled, finding her sitting on a cushion, on the floor, with her cuddle blanket and her strawberries, eating happily. He leaned against the wall, just watching, and smiled softly. He wasn't new to the intense feelings parenthood brought, but reliving it all so many reminded him of all the joy, anxiety, fear, and immense love that was created. He perched himself in the corner of the sofa, resting his legs either side of Clíodhna's little body, and watched her with his head at an angle. He loved working, he loved being busy, and he loved relaxing at home at the end of it all - but nothing compared to getting to watch this little diamond grow.

.

[theoddsideofme]

I haven’t been able to log into tumblr all day and I come back to this chaos! If you can’t find mudwerks you can find him at this temp blog https://www.tumblr.com/mudwerksredux. Someone needs to get this tumblr icon back on here. He’s been on here since god damn tumblr was first started.

why have i been terminated?

Follow @mudwerksredux and get more of the good stuff by joining Tumblr today. Dive in!

[bitter-sweet-coffee]

you: my tumblr mutual is doing fine!

your tumblr mutual:

[shiftythrifting]

Found in Sacramento, CA

[mood-to-the-max]

It blows my mind that it took a pandemic, one that brought the entire world to a halt for months, one that forced everyone into quarantine/isolation, it took A PANDEMIC to begin turning twitter into tumblr’s worst era (those infernal years between 2012 - 2015) meanwhile us on tumblr who lived thru are. Just Already Like That.

[angloirishnolanist]

Accepting requests? Can we have a story where Cillian is on duty with a poorly Clee?

Hey! Yeah, of course - I hope it hits the spot.

We Got Issues Ficlet Request

It happened, much to Cillian's disgust. The plaque had hit the house and, by some miracle, he was the only one of the three not infected. Y/N was on her second day and night with severe stomach cramps, vomiting and diarrhoea, and a fever, and Clíodhna had been sent home from school a little earlier that afternoon with pains in her tummy and a mild temperature. With Y/N in their bedroom and barely clinging to life, Cillian had settled in Clíodhna's room with her - armed with a bucket, plenty of bags to line it with, and Calpol and water by the litre. She was yet to actually vomit, but Clíodhna had refused anything for tea, her stomach pains had ramped up, and she was so pale she was almost see through.

"Daddy..." the seven year old called out from under her light duvet, dressed in her underwear and a baggy t-shirt to help mitigate her need to be under the covers despite her fever, and turned her head on the pillow.

Perched on the floor, Cillian looked over his shoulder, "Yes, leanbh?"

"My tummy hurts." Clíodhna pouted.

Cillian nodded slowly, "I know it does. Do you want a wee bit more water?"

Clíodhna wrinkled her nose and shook her head just a little, "No."

"It's important. Even if you're getting sick, leanbh. Can't have you dehydrated. We'll be up at the hospital..." He said softly, kneeling up, and pushed her hair back from her forehead. "Oh, you're warmer." He winced, and then he froze as he watched her purse her lips as she swallowed. "Ah...are you gonna get sick...?" he reached down his free hand and lifted the bag-lined bin, holding it up just as Clíodhna pushed herself up onto her palms. She hovered her little head over the bin and belched, gagging noisily before a second retch finally began the horrible cycle Cillian had been waiting for. "Oh, oh..." he cooed, keeping himself calm. "Alright...good woman, you're a brave thing..." he rubbed between her shoulders gently as a third and fourth heave brought up the small amounts of water she'd been sipping all afternoon and evening.

Swallowing awkwardly, and fighting to get her breath back, Clíodhna whimpered a little. "Daddy..."

"I know, I know... it's not nice. But you're a brave girl." Cillian kept calm. He pushed her hair from her face as she stayed hovering over the bin for a moment long, before taking a deep breath and lying back down. Cillian set the bin down beside her bedside locker, and tilted his head to look at her. "Bet that feels a wee bit better now, hm?"

Clíodhna nodded her head, "My tummy doesn't hurt so bad."

Cillian smiled, "See? I know it's horrible, leanbh, but you've a bug and the only way your belly can get it out is by getting sick." He nodded, and pushed back her hair. "Give you half an hour, and then have a wee bit of water. Just let your belly settle, yeah?"

Clíodhna nodded slowly, her little cheeks pink and stark against her pale face. "Can we watch a movie?"

Cillian grinned playfully, "We can, surely. What'll we watch?" He pushed himself up to his feet, then bent at the waist to hover over her a little.

"Ship-da." She smiled softly, trying so hard to put a brave face on despite feeling rotten.

Cillian couldn't help smiling at the fact that she still used the mispronunciation of the film's name. "Watership Down? Are you not sad enough being sick, missus? You want to watch that?"

"Bunnies." She sniffed, and grimaced at the acidic taste in her mouth as she drove saliva past her burned throat.

"Sick bunnies..." Cillian straightened up and stretched out his body. He felt awful - worried sick about her, and Y/N, being unwell, but he also felt relief that the anticipation of her being fully struck with the illness was over. "Okay," he pulled at the hem of his shirt, fixing it back into place as he relaxed his back again after his lengthy stretch. "Watership Down it is." Clíodhna had a small TV-DVD combi unit in her bedroom; it wasn't often they encouraged her to have her mind numbed entirely by just staring at the screen, but this was definitely one of those times that any worries about it left him. He approached the TV on the shelf along the wall and fished around until he got exactly what she wanted. "Ready?" he asked, picking up the controls and dropping back into his previous spot on the floor again.

Clíodhna nodded, "Ready," she said quietly.

"And you'll tell me if you're going to get sick again, yeah?" He looked over his shoulder at her. Clíodhna nodded. "Good girl." He winked, then held out the controls and clicked play on the film. He hoped, more than anything else, that the one expulsion would be soothing enough for her insides that she'd be able to drift off to sleep, slumbering through the worst of the illness, and wake up feeling much better in the morning. He wasn't convinced, given how poorly Y/N had been, but he clung to the idealistic dream.

.

[chaotic-wanda]

When you and your best friend refuse to show emotion to anyone but each other