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#I won't tag this and will probably delete later but I am just so tired
c-e-d-dreamer · 11 months
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Nesta stans "can't take a joke"? Bestie, you don't even know what a joke is!
When I jokingly refer to Cassian as an idiot, it's said with affection. When you call Nesta a massive bitch, it's said with blatant malice. See the difference?
Hope that clears things up! ✌️
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chevvy-yates · 11 months
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[NC_RES]-31102049-EUR-GER
scharfenberg_g_portraits_025_RT.file
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⚠️ READ: Please do not repost/reupload any of my art here or to any other platform, or I will be forced to do anything to get it annihilated.
Leather body harness by @pinkyjulien.
(sry for retagging you again)
if you read this:
This is a repost of an older post (and my second attempt now) I deleted just now; see below.
Because it was bugged as hell with tblr always telling me it needs a mature label. Now telling immediately 13 minutes after posting my repost anew it needs a community label (mature already been selected from the start). I selected sexual themes now as well. If this does not work now I'm giving up and if you wanna see such pics then you gotta have to write me on discord. I'm just really really done with this here and I'm already trying hard to sound 'normal'. I cannot understand how this side finds it so horribly sexual, like I'm sortry that Ry has such pretty legs and he likes to show himself like that – there's stuff worse to find over here than this set.
I am honest: I forgot to select mature when posting it back then (sorry I'm just human, Brudi – my brain is often tired af and sometimes I forget simple stuff like this), two weeks later I got the notification it needs a label, so I edited it afterwards but the button didn't vanish at all. Once again, I gave it into the queue for tblr to look at it … taking their time, just to tell me today -weeks later- it needs a label -twice- in a row and still this notification didn't vanish!?
I didn't know what to do other then just delete my post and repost it again with the mature label now selected in the first place (just hoping it won't get back into this mess again).
I know you already know these pics, but I'd appreciate it if you'd like/reblog the post again.💜
I'll love you forever! This is my personal best set of my precious pixel man and I'd like to see it not just having a few notes now. I hope you do understand me in a way ;_;
It slowly feels like it's almost forbidden to post him like that. Like c'mon he's not even entirely nekkid! (I left that one pic I did without his panties already out here bc I know you probably can't handle him). Also I've seen pics worse over here lately not tagged as mature at all. Does tblr know something about him I do not know? Like he's doing some certain BD's or what am I missing?
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vampirzina · 2 years
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Like a Dream ;
After being friends with Marc Spector since your childhood, you should’ve known better than to confess your love years later. Now he's run from you, it seems, and he's taken the entire friendship with him. But like a dream, everything is fine—what happens when everything isn’t in the waking world?
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Masterlist | AO3 | Table of Contents | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3
pairings: marc spector x reader (for now, probably).
rating: 18+
words: 3.2k
warnings/tags: swearing, gender neutral reader, angst, no emotional comfort, unrequited love, heartbreak, established relationship(s), friends to lovers, dissociative identity disorder, mental health issues, squeamish! reader, insomnia, humiliation, guilt, fear, violence, horror, stranger danger, weapons, blood, no smut.
did i get them all? anyway, if you’re fine with all that, enjoy. short a/n at the bottom
It's been three years since you last saw Marc Spector.
Three years since you confessed to him your feelings, and three years since he disappeared without a trace and left you without a response to your heart.
He doesn't visit anymore, let alone call or text. Honestly, you've given up on that now, you think. It’s no use waiting up for him, waiting like he would mysteriously have a need to reach out. Though you... Never deleted or removed his number.
Just in case he needs anything, you rationalize, but you know that's not the only reason for it, deep down in the pit of the box that is your emotions. You know it when you can't help but live in the past through the text messages and voicemails.
You know that you want him desperately to call you back. You want him to put it into words that he's letting you down or that he's going to love you back. If not that, you want him to let you know that he's still alive, and well.
Anything, anything at all to put your mind at ease. No matter what, you don't blame him—you never could bring yourself to be mad at Marc for captivating your mind the way he does late at night.
So curled up in your messy satin sheets, you lie awake in the darkness. Your mind is doing it again, thinking about Marc when he wasn't even thinking about you, you know for sure.
2:32 AM.
If you had work today, you'd be fucked, and you know this too; usually you'd have to turn up five and a half hours from now and you’ve gotten no sleep since you laid down three hours ago.
Not like it'd never happened to you before, dwelling on random times from the past to make yourself upset again.
It's not healthy that you're running around in circles over Marc, and you're tired, but you can't stop yourself. You're cold underneath the duvet of your tussled bed, but you're void of fever.
Even if you layer yourself underneath pounds of cover, even if you change your sheets, even if you abandon the mattress for a new, even if you uproot this whole room, move out—it's not enough. The humiliation will come crashing down all over again.
But the only place it can't reach you is your dreams.
Try as it might, that big mess-up never reaches you there, because it’s never happened. It never had the chance to get you and pull you in. So then, it had become the only place where you're not alone like the way you are left, because in your dreams, everything is fine.
Marc never left you without a trace. He stayed by your side; in most, he accepted your heart and you had that happy ending you're so desperately chasing and trying to cling unto.
In others, you saw him again, but he had someone to call his own already. Of course, you would be happy for him if it were ever to be true; but with no way to confirm it and lay this haunting guilt to rest, you could only have hope.
You shut your eyes, feeling the pale light of the moon blanket your face, but only for a moment.
You can't sleep now. Your body pushes and pushes, but your mind won't let you. The only thing left to do is to wait it out, as you've always did when the nights got hard like this.
It's not always like this, though. Sometimes, you do get to have a good nights' rest. Other times, were times like this where you daydreamed a little too hard before bed and delved deep into this state of mind. You swore each time afterwards that you'd get it right and stop fantasizing before bed.
Swinging your legs over the edge of your bed, you get up and shuffle to the kitchen of your apartment. If you couldn't sleep, you'd at least find something to do in the meantime until you could fall asleep...
Whenever that was.
You figured you'd just grab a quick snack and put on a nice movie or show, and then maybe fall asleep that way. Well, you figured it, because when you grabbed the cereal box that you were craving, it felt light in your hands. And when you opened it, you got just what you expected.
Emptiness.
You curse inwardly, throwing your head back in annoyance at the dust of the cereal once there. Even though you had the right intentions of just distracting your head with something else get crushed swiftly, all hadn't gone completely down the drain.
It's just a missed shopping trip. You should have gone when you had that other day off last week, but for whatever reason you cannot seem to remember right now. The bottom line was that you didn't go, and now you're out of cereal and probably many other things as well.
Going through the cupboards and the fridge, you try to sift out what is missing, empty or still uneaten, and it's not as much as you like it to be at first. It should be enough for you.
After the inventory of your leftovers, you decided that it wasn't enough, actually. You’re willing to make that trip to some corner store or something somewhere to get that snack.
So you toss the rotten, and repacked the still-good without another thought. You don't bother add much bling to your sleepwear or redress entirely, because you won't be out very long.
It's the middle of the night, and you have enough common sense to be indoors while the streets of the city do it's thing during these hours. Just for now though, you won’t mind it, or at least try not to.
A cardigan over the top and some comfortable shoes suffice. It's not much, but it gets the job done and stays a perfect go-to.
Just a quick trip, you shut the door to your apartment with your keys and wallet in your pockets. If you could recall, there's a corner store that stays open for most of the night.
It's a nice shop, in the daytime. There’s the nice lady at the counter and customers who mind their business. You don’t go there much, but when you do, she’s always there… And it’s always the daytime.
Obviously that would be different now. It’s almost three in the morning and it would be eerily quiet in and around it, except for the one or two bumbling person that come in every other hour. You’ve heard what transpires here sometimes at night from the lady, and why she could no longer take the night shifts as well.
You could go to the one that’s further down, but that’s putting yourself even more at risk. Besides, with your situation right now, all you really needed was a few things, right? You wouldn’t be long enough for someone to pull something on you.
You tuck your arms in your cardigan and continue down the sidewalk. It wasn’t all that empty once you could see, with the very few still out and about. The warm hue of the streetlights illuminated them, and the path—and it’d also illuminate the alleys where god-knows-what lurked.
It came as no surprise when you’d see the shop up ahead with just a few minutes of walking. the contrast of light to the street lamps making it stand out in the rows of closed shops next to it.
Normally it’s a relief to see it, but you were wary once you saw that there was a man posted outside, a leg kicked up against the brick border of the glass. It didn’t help at all that it was night.
He smoked rather dramatically, cartoonishly, almost. He took long drags of the cigarette between chapped lips, and puffing out clouds of smoke the size of your head at impossible intervals. His lungs should be destroyed beyond repair the way he’s smoking like it’s running away from him, you guessed.
You’d didn’t smoke and you wouldn’t, but you know that whoever he was, he looked rough. He deserved to be left alone as much you… Minding your business is key, you decide. You’re not some hero and never will be.
You caught yourself staring at him in skepticism when he’d give you a glance. Quickly, you averted your eyes elsewhere and went up to the door. Not a word of confrontation left your mouth to the male as you entered the shop with pace, and the bell jingles as you swing the door open.
The place didn’t have any customers. Maybe not tonight, but skimming the aisles, the evidence of there being people here throughout the day was still here. Silently, you thank the clerk for even staying open when there’s no one but that strange man outside.
You browse until you find a bag of chips; they were in a much smaller portion than you’re usually picking up at the store had you went on that shopping trip like you were supposed to, but you make do with what you have.
Your hands grab a few bags of those and then some that’s caught your eye, until your hands are full of bags of snacks. Some you know, some you’ve never had before, and for the whole proportion? A bottle of your favorite soda. It’s uneven, you know, but this should last you a while.
With a sigh, you splay your selection onto the counter of the checkout in one motion. The teenage cashier just barely looks up from his phone at the snacks, and then you.
“…Sorry,” you apologize meekly, but you smile. “I went a little crazy on the snack selection and you’ll probably have to make more shipment orders for some. Won’t happen again.”
That wasn’t a promise from you… Not as long as you were wallowing in whatever funk thinking of Marc has you in again tonight. It’ll subside, yes, but for now it is what it is. The cashier steps off the stool with a bounce.
Wordlessly, he begins to scan the snacks. Satisfied with yourself and your picks, you decide to look elsewhere to help the kid behind the counter not feel so watched.
Thus, it led you to check on the man outside and it has you double taking—he’s gone. Not there. And during the time you were in the aisles, you hadn’t heard the bell jingle either… No, you didn’t. That feeling of wariness is back again, and your eyebrows stitch together in uneasiness.
Play it safe and just go straight home. For the love of god, please just play it safe. Don’t get curious anymore than this.
“Your total is twenty even,” the cashier said, making you shift your attention back to him. He’d press a few more buttons before awaiting the cash you were fumbling to pull from your wallet. Then, with a nod, “There.”
He took it and tucked it away into the register, touching another button to get the receipt printing.
Ripping the long slip out of the machine, he stuffs it in the bag and hands it to you. “Thank you so much,” you give a wider grin this time to him, taking the bag in your hands and leaving the store.
The cooler breeze of the outdoors wafted over your form in waves, and settles when you walk further into the night. You wanted to be chill, just relax and take in this breath of fresh air while you could, but… You had a feeling you were being watched, doing so.
Quickening your pace, you only look over your shoulder every now and again… Only to see nothing. Again, and nothing. Then frequently. You were going mad, it felt like.
And with every look over, drew a firm bang of something, somewhere, around you where you couldn’t see it… Timed. Hiding in the darkness. Near… Close.
Then, the terrifying pressure of the noises keeping you running stops in the alley you were about to pass.
You don’t know why you stopped either—you were petrified, is what you quickly registered as you stared down the pitch black alleyway. You don’t know why you can’t move.
Panting from fear, adrenaline and the running, your heart was competing in the Olympics with how fast it was beating to keep you still standing.
You were terrified to see what was hiding in the darkness, should it show itself… If it wanted you.
Another bang; you step back and your hand flies to your mouth.
…It’s silent.
All at once, the sounds of scuffling cats fill your ears. Gasping, you barely make it out of the way before they’re barreling towards you and then all is scattering—you’ve spooked them just as much as they’ve spooked you.
And… A rat? The impossible sized rodent bounds out of your way as well in the opposite direction with a slice of pizza just a big as it. It’s huge, but how could it ever surprise you? This is New York. Shaking, your arms goes limp and drop from your face as you pant in slight relief. You could cry, but you dare not.
You back up, and bump into a wall that quickly wraps arms around you and covers your mouth before you could scream.
The ‘wall’… No, man, coos into your ear for you to hush and stop as you drop your bag to resist. “You don’t want a fight, sweetheart,” the voice is raspy, hoarse. The smell of smoke residue is strong on his hands.
You might not want a fight, but you were raised better.
Bringing the full force of your foot onto his own, he reels backwards in pain—far enough for you to remove the callous hand and, with the loudest you’ve ever been in the past year, a scream escapes your throat.
“Whore!” the man said through gritted teeth. He’s pissed now, those same rough hands pushing and shoving you into the alley.
He shoves you so hard that you fall back onto your bottom, quickly unsheathing a knife from his windbreaker as he scrambles to subdue your fighting form on the cold alley floor.
Now that you could see him, you recognize him as the man who was smoking outside of the shop. You had no idea when he came or when he left, but all that mattered now was that he was definitely going to kill you now that you screamed. You could only hoped someone had heard that cry for help.
Normally that would have scared the attacker off. But this guy, he was bold yet barely burly in stature like you’d thought he’d be underneath his layers of clothes. You were too shaky, scared for your life now to actually save yourself, and you felt pathetic.
Fuck, if you weren’t so afraid of him stabbing you, you would have tried to fight harder than you were right now. The apartment complex was only across the crosswalk next to this place, and you were going to die here.
In the middle of an alleyway. Alone.
You flinch and squeeze your eyes shut as he lifted the knife to strike you, but the pain never arrives. Maybe it has already, and you’re already dead—maybe if you open your eyes you’ll see heaven before you. This is it.
The sound of liquid spatters, on the ground next to you and a bit on your neck, face and clothes. Then, a thump to your left, as you feel suddenly lighter… Like the weight on you had suddenly been lifted, physically.
Opening your eyes, you stare up at the stars first, the moon just barely in your line of sight. It slowly dawns on you that you are, in fact, alive and staring up at the night sky. But where did the man go? He was just…
Heaving still, you sit up and it doesn’t take much looking to know where he’s gone, and you began to feel lightheaded at the sight beside you, against the brick wall.
The attacker had slumped on it next to you, unconscious or what you feared, dead. Eyes wide, you look around again but you don’t have the opportunity to let your eyes wander in wonder when the familiar voice you know all too well says your name and is already by your side.
…Marc? You have to be dreaming.
“Are you okay? Talk to me, I’m here, are you okay?” Marc breathily speaks, quivering hands reaching up to cup your dazed face.
He looks weird—different—you don’t know if this is really… Him, that you’re looking at. He’s dressed in white wrapping and gold, and you had seen a hood and a mask to match before he’d taken it off, almost like magic. He had come running up to you and kneeling beside you in that same suit, apparently not bothered to take it off.
You’re too dazed to give a proper answer.
Too much is happening at once. Between the attack, the suddenness of the man bleeding on the floor beside you, Marc coming back to you and these strange circumstances, it’s all too much to process at once.
“This is… This is too much…” you begin to shake your head, pushing a glassy-eyed, concerned Marc away to give yourself space. You wobble to stand up.
“Fir–first… First this and then… Marc? Is that really you? And you… Did you?” your eyes flicker between the bloodied crescent blade next to his hand and the unconscious man.
There was no way that this was your Marc; the same Marc who’d laugh with you until you cried from it. The same Marc who you were missing, your head turned, flipped upside down over, and spent sleepless nights anticipating when he’d stop running from you.
“Look, I can explain, just calm–”
“Not right now… Not right now,” you say pleadingly, blinking. “Don’t explain anything to me right now. He’s bleeding out, you’re actually here, I’m feeling funny, I… I just want to go home, I…”
You feel a damp spot on your neck, the drop trickling off your neck and soaking the hem of the back of your shirt. Pausing in shock, you raise hand to hesitantly feel the spot on the back of your shoulder.
That doesn’t feel like… Water.
You feel another spot, this time on the bone of your brow. You look down at your fingers when you wish you hadn’t.
Blood. The attackers blood. It’s on you, and he’s probably dead right now from the loss of blood. You weren’t itching to find out if he was or wasn’t… Instead, you felt dizzy just staring at the red that painted your fingertips and a bit of your nails as it stained your fingers.
You couldn’t stop yourself from freaking out after that. Your breath was coming out short, and your eyes were wide with the realization. Warningly, you heard your name and saw Marc begin to get up and come towards you, worry still painted on his face despite his firm tone.
“Blood. Oh my god, it’s blood… This is… This is his blood, and it’s on me. He’s dead, you killed him, and his blood it’s…”
You remember collapsing as your body gives way to what feels like sleep, at last. This has to be another dream… Because like that world in your mind when you slept, you saw Marc again. Yet something was amiss, here, not like a dream.
Like a nightmare.
You hoped you would wake up to your reality soon and it was all just nothing but a nightmare.
notes: slowburn, part 2 for happy ending, or let it be as a oneshot? let me know what you want if you liked this. i know it’s not wednesday yet, but i wanted to give this a chance for feedback so i can work it into the schedule if so
Masterlist | AO3
want to be a part of the taglist for this series? let me know in the replies ☻
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beautifulpaxiel · 2 years
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I posted 572 times in 2021
7 posts created (1%)
565 posts reblogged (99%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 80.7 posts.
I added 683 tags in 2021
#thg - 146 posts
#everlark - 140 posts
#fan art - 92 posts
#gifsets - 78 posts
#cf - 70 posts
#beautiful things - 45 posts
#peeta mellark - 38 posts
#coarse language tw - 27 posts
#self care - 26 posts
#beach scene - 21 posts
Longest Tag: 85 characters
#i spent ages reading through all this so i'm doing the decent thing and reblogging it
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
I’m so tired of...
...seeing those posts that try to tell you that if you don’t reblog, you are a bad person. No. You are not a bad person.
Please don’t ever feel like you have to reblog a post because someone tells you to. It’s wrong, it’s guilt-trippy and it’s incredibly manipulative.
4 notes • Posted 2021-01-25 07:11:13 GMT
#4
Feel free to keep scrolling if you see this, but I just wanted to make this post because I want this blogger to see it.
*fistbumps @rosegardeninwinter*
Thank you for appreciating my work, Cate. :-)
5 notes • Posted 2021-09-08 06:01:03 GMT
#3
I'm taking a break.
To all my beautiful followers both on this blog and my book blog, @beautifulpaxielreads (I'll be reblogging this there too):
Some of you may have noticed that I have been posting much less frequently on Tumblr of late.
Much of my reasoning for this is personal and I'd rather not share it, but the gist of it is: I'm just not having fun anymore, and it's not good for my mental health.
With that in mind, I have made the decision to cut down on my Tumblr usage, starting from tomorrow (Thursday, June 3 Australian time). I should stress that I WILL NOT be deleting my accounts, just I will be less active for a little while - don't ask me when I'll come back at full strength, I'm honestly not sure yet. Feel free to continue reblogging and liking as usual, but don't tag me in your posts and send me messages as I will not respond.
To have to cut down my usage is slightly upsetting to me as I have had some incredible experiences since I first signed up to Tumblr way back in 2012 (!) and discovered the joy that came with being a part of the Hunger Games (and more specifically, Everlark) fandom during the euphoria of the film franchise years, fangirling over the actors, analysing trailers and clips, and later on after the hype train died down, rewatching the movies and rereading the books. I also had some incredible conversations as part of that fandom, which I will treasure always.
For my book bloggers over at @beautifulpaxielreads, I will still be posting my monthly wrap-ups and will probably still occasionally post the odd photograph for prompts, but this will be very infrequent. I haven't been on Book!Tumblr as long as I have been on Hunger Games!Tumblr, but I want you all to know I am truly appreciative of you, and would like to express my continued amazement that so many of you have thought my humble book blog one worth following. Special thanks also to those who I've had chats with online - I enjoyed making those connections. I will still be available on StoryGraph if you want to follow me there - my username is beautifulpaxielreads, same as here.
Stay safe and well in these challenging times, and for my bookish followers, happy reading!
Goodbye for now, not forever. See you soon. :)
20 notes • Posted 2021-06-02 06:49:09 GMT
#2
I'm back...
Kinda.
It's partly COVID's fault, and partly because I find it difficult to stay away. I know, I know...🙄
I'm still going to limit my use of Tumblr though - to keep my mental health in check - and to that end, I will only use it in desktop mode and not on mobile, so I won't be checking my dashboard obsessively. Feel free to include me in tags and messages again, just know I may take longer to respond.
Fair warning - I will be a bit ruthless in curating the content I see (again, mental health), so if I do unfollow you, please don't take it too personally.
Thanks to all those who wished me well, and I look forward to interacting with you all again.
29 notes • Posted 2021-07-01 07:06:11 GMT
#1
I know this might be an unpopular opinion on Aussie Tumblr...
...but as an Australian, I am tired of the sniping and bitching going on between the states. Not only among state premiers, but among the population too. I get we're in a horrible and often frustrating situation and it feels good to vent, but this behaviour helps nobody.
If you must blame anyone for this, blame the Feds - I do. I firmly believe that if it wasn't for their utter incompetence in managing the vaccine rollout, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.
I'm sorry for the rant, but I am just frustrated beyond belief.
33 notes • Posted 2021-07-16 06:46:09 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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inber · 4 years
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I love you guys, a lot, and I know you're bored and scared in quarantine. So am I. I get it.
But I'm not an entertainment machine. Telling me how to write my fics, or flinging one sentence anon prompts at me without even a please/thank you, or telling me you're 'not pressuring' but you 'need' the next chapter of (whatever bullshit I'm writing) - it's stressing me out.
Maybe I make my writing look too easy, with the way I churn out content, but the truth of it is it takes me hours to write and edit, and then tag, and keep up with new tags, and make it all pretty for you, and often I'll get 60 likes and a comment or two.
It can be kind of demoralizing.
I'm not asking you to stay out of my inbox, or apologise, or comment more - I'm just asking you to please remember that your fic writers/artists are people. That's all I need you to take away. We're just tired flesh, like you. Nobody is paying us to entertain you. If you press, you won't get more from us.
I'll probably delete this later and man, I'm not looking for sympathy or... anything, really. I'm just tired. Please be mindful.
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