#but yeah. making me insane about them all over

[idyllcy]

you make me wanna make ya fall in love

word count: 1.97k || EMT Leon || slightly ooc + flirting (HIPAA violation)

summary: the 2000s called, they want their romcom plot back

"I'm actually gonna pass out." You sit on the couch, blinking rapidly as your head goes light.

"I called 911 already, so hang in there, alright?!" Ashley stays connected to the call, holding you up as you groan, stomach caving in on itself and your eyes giving out. Oh, god, is this how you die? You focus on breathing through your mouth, ignoring the way Ashley's voice is reduced to ringing and the way you're sweating buckets. Ew. Maybe you should've— oh. this is because you didn't eat, huh? It is 8pm. Yeah, this one's on you. Maybe the heavens will be nice and let a nice hot EMT show up to your door and save your ass— yeah, tough luck.

You can't believe you're about to pass out and all you can think about is men. You're literally failing the Bechdel test. What are you? Some poor girl in a teenage romcom? You're not even a teenager.

You close your eyes for some shut-eye, disrupted when you're shaken awake, blinking slowly as you catch sight of Ashley first, holding her chest in relief when you stare at her.

Then, you notice him—

Beautiful blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, arms hard as a rock, you might've just died and landed in heaven. Are you in heaven? Surely you must be. This man looks so gorgeous it's incredible. You have to be in heaven right now. You blink at him with doe-eyes, confusion visible on your face. Ashley's here, so you're not in heaven. Did you just happen to have a super hot EMT show up to your door like you had been imagining? Oh, god, are you... psychic? This is a revelation! This is insane! You have to—

No, seriously. You're not in a romcom. Can the narrator stop describing it like it's some sort of a romcom? The 2000s called, they want their cheesy romcom plotline back.

"Fucking hell." You groan, shifting against the wall. "How long was I out?"

"Ten minutes." The man reads. "You're just low in blood sugar. We have some orange juice, would you like that?"

"Yeah. Sure." You furrow your brows. "God, wow, count on my body to shut down without sugar."

"It happens." He thanks his coworker for the glass, holding it to your lips. "Tilt, please."

You tilt your head back slightly to press your lips to the glass, drinking it as you lean back to lick your lips, offering to take the glass from him as your arms start cooperating. "I can do it."

"Best not to." He nods. "Just finish the glass. We'll stay until your blood sugar rises."

"Isn't it almost immediate?"

"Takes around 15 minutes."

You raise a brow at Ashley, who shakes her head, and you finish the rest of the glass, watching as Leon checks your stats.

"How often does this happen..." You glance at his nameplate. "Leon?"

"More often than you'd think." He hums, tilting his head at you as Ashley talks to the other worker about your insurance. "Let me guess, you forgot to eat?"

"Yeah. My body stops feeling hunger after a certain point." You hum. "It's not super good, huh?"

"Yeah. Try to have some candy or juice throughout the day. It helps." He nods. "College student life, huh?"

You tilt your head. "How old are you?"

"Been a few years since school." He nods. "Your blood sugar's back to normal, sugar."

You hold your hand over your mouth, raising a brow at him. "That definitely breaks some sort of work protocol."

He smiles, sneaking you a candy from his pocket with a wink.

Huh. Hard caramel.

"Are you alright?" Ashley rests a hand on your shoulder, and you give her a thumbs up.

"All good." You lean against the wall to get up. "I should eat, though."

Leon grabs your arm, helping you up. "Definitely. Have something high in sugar or carbs."

"Will do, Leon." You nod. "Wishing you an uneventful work day. May no emergency be absolutely awful."

"Thank you. Those days are the best."

You send them off as Ashley starts nagging about not eating, and you pout as you lock eyes with her, door locked, ambulance gone.

"Yeah, he was hot."

"YEAH, HE WAS."

You forget about him, though. You start popping candy throughout the day, same brand as the one Leon had given you, your lips curled upwards sweetly when it hits your tongue. It's not food, but at least you won't be passing out because your blood sugar's low again.

You're also never going to see him again, so it's fine if you carry a piece of him around with you.

Except you do. You see him at the EMT booth at a local concert, Ashley in your arms because there's something wrong with her this time. (You really ought to start taking care of yourselves, huh?)

"Ah, sugar." Leon smiles. "Friend this time?"

"Yes." You set her down as he checks up on her. "Is she okay?"

"Seems fine. Just needs some water. Dehydration. How long you been out there?"

"Since morning." You glance at the venue. "Didn't eat either, though I've been having candy."

"That's not good for you, sugar." He hands Ashley a bottle of water, sending her off with you. "Go grab some food."

You watch as he fishes out a twenty from his pocket, blinking as he holds it out to you.

"I can't take that from you, sir."

"Nonsense. Concert food is expensive. It's on me." He smiles.

"You're still breaking workplace rules, I see." You rummage through your pockets, taking Leon's hand as you place a caramel in his hand. "As a thank you."

"I'm sure it'll be delicious later." He smiles. "Now, off you go. We've got quite a line."

"Wouldn't dream of holding you up, Leon." You lead Ashley to the side by the crowds, waiting for her to grab a drink before pulling her to grab something to eat. You pay for her food first, setting Ashley with the rest of your friends before waving to get something of your own.

"Get his number!" She manages to yell as you disappear into the crowd.

Now that's breaking protocol.

Yet, you use the remainder of Leon's money to get him something to eat, waiting for the line to dissipate slightly before handing him a drink.

"For me?"

"It's got... liquid IV in it." You scrunch your nose. "Hopefully that's not a scam."

"Not completely." He takes it from you, pinching at the straw to mix it. "Did you eat?"

"I was about to."

He glances at his coworker and then the intermission.

"That'd be bad, Kennedy." The woman next to him warns.

Leon sighs. "Have fun eating."

"Thank you again." You grin.

"Ah, and for dessert." He reaches for your hand, placing another candy in it. "A hard caramel."

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for caramels, Leon." You raise a brow, taking two steps back before throwing a wave his way. "I'll pay you back later!"

You grab dinner with the rest of your friends, waving bye to them when they leave to continue, Ashley making sure that you've got candy on you before she's gone. You have one final singer that you'd like to see before you leave the event. You're glad you live close to the venue. You could probably walk back or uber if you were really desperate. Though, you wonder just how long the EMT are staying.

You find yourself mixed into the crowd as you wait, jumping when your favorite artist finally appears, cheering with everyone else. You don't blame the rest of them for retiring early. You're the only one who listens to this artist anyway. The setlist has you jumping, cheering at the live vocals, yelling your heart out with the lyrics, and when the set finishes, the sun's almost down. It'd be smart of you to head out at this point.

You make a turn to head back, popping the caramel in your mouth, stopping in your tracks when a man blocks your way.

"Where ya off to, sweetheart?"

"...Oh, you know." You smile, nodding to excuse yourself.

"Need a ride home?"

"Truly, it's alright—"

"I insist."

You wrack your brain for a solution, yelping when you feel hands on your waist instead, pulling you backwards. Your back is flush against someone's chest, smile on his lips as you blink. Sure hope it's not some other creep.

"Hey, you good bro? Had one too many to drink? I suggest the EMT tent."

You let out a sigh in relief, watching as the guy notices the uniform and scrambles.

"Thank you." You turn around, smile on your lips as Leon nods.

"You're just too lovely, sugar. Gotta keep those flies off of ya." He nods. "You feeling alright?"

You nod.

"Gone all quiet on me?" He tilts his head. "Alright, up you go."

You yelp as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you out of the crowd. He presses his forehead to yours to check your temperature, looking to the side when you don't react at all.

"You good?"

"I'm fine, Leon. You didn't need to." You let him take your vitals, the tent practically empty now that the concert was finishing up. His coworker nods at him and heads out, and leaves you with Leon. That's gotta be illegal in some way. There is no way a law is not being broken right there. Aren't they both supposed to get off at the same time? Is that?? legal? Is their shift over?

"You seem fine." He kneels at your chair, fingers on your wrist as he takes your heartbeat. "Heart's a little fast, though."

"Yeah?" You mumble. You're sure you look embarrassed beyond belief right now, so you opt for sucking on the caramel in your mouth.

You're not surprised he takes notice. "Actually, I think my head's spinning just a little. Must be the lack of sugar. You got any on you?"

"Well, I kind of ate my last one..." You mumble, sticking your tongue out with the candy.

"I don't mind."

"Yeah?" You suck on the candy.

"Of course not, sugar." He leans in, tilting his head. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, who am I to say no?"

You let him kiss you, tongue with the caramel offered to him, sugar on your lips and his from it, though you would argue that the only reason the candy seemed to taste so good was because of him. You tilt your head to angle better, Leon's hands finding yours on the chair, pushing himself to you with a hum in his throat, tongue in your mouth as he steals the caramel from you. You don't mind. You might've just tasted a slice of heaven of your own.

You pant, tongue stuck out and mouth open as Leon shows you the candy on his tongue, smiling.

"You got a ride home, sugar?"

"You gonna kidnap me?" You raise a brow, licking your lips for whatever remnant of him is left on you.

"Not with this pretty lady, no." He smiles.

"Breaking work protocol again, I see."

"I'm off duty." He glances to the side as the new shift arrives, and Leon offers a hand to help you up. "Don't worry, sugar, you can pass out on my car. I've got all the candy you could want."

"Hm..." You tap your chin, taking his hand as he pulls you with him, not letting go.

"Hm what?"

"How about we grab brunch sometimes nearby? Just to make sure my sugar levels don't drop from forgetting to eat?" You tilt your head, watching as Leon tilts his head back to you.

"Oh, sugar. You don't even need to ask."

[grlpartdoll]

I'm afraid I'm still very much thinking about this Freak weirdo mysoginistic Simon ;(

You're sitting on the couch as far away from Simon as you can get, practically falling off of the edge. You don't entirely trust him when your husband isn't around.

And having Gaz with him, you know that Kyle is soft hearted, and that he would never hurt you, but he's also.. a man. And there's nothing he can do about the fact that Simon putting you in your place does turn him on.

"c'mon, kid. Com'he'a." Simon grunts,,, patting his lap, the obvious chubbed up cock in his pants on full display as he man spreads the fuck out of himself, patting his lap with one hand, while the other just.. casually holds his fleshy member, idly rubbing up and down on it as he watches you.

Gaz, who sits beside Ghost, only looks at you through half-lidded eyes, trying to decide if he'll tell his boss about this, you suppose.

You shake your head at him, at the both of them, hands sweaty on your lap, over your naked thighs. You're not sure why Price decided to dress you in this little white number if he knew you would be left alone with his creepy, low-key insane lieutenant.

The white dress is about 3 sizes too small, hides about... None of your fleshy bottom, and the curves underneath the little dress. Your fertile hips, your peaking breasts. He'd also refused categorically to let you wear underwear. Which was usually the norm for when it was just you and price, but around guests...

You supposed Simon wasn't really a guest all that much anymore. He was over here more often than not, when off deployment, and even during deployment, he would blow up your phone with videos and pics of his hard, almost obscenely huge member, some in which he moaned about taking you, over and over and over and keeping you on him like a little cock pocket, good for nothing else but keeping him hard and warm and storing the seed that spills from those massive freaking breeder balls ;(

"m' Kay over here." You mumble, half watching as Gaz raises a cup of amber liquid to his mouth and drinks a small sip, clearly interested.

"that ain't your place to say, innit, dollie?"

You try to ignore the swoop in your tummy, the tightening of your core at that.

"m'the man here. Y'listen to me, brat."

You sigh, knowing that even if you don't end up going, you'll be placed on his lap by force anyway. So, with shaky legs, you tiptoe to him carefully, trying to tug down the dress.

Paying no mind to your embarrassment, he just grabs you and forces you, pressing your aching core onto his member, manhandling you into a straddling position.

As he watches you with that bored look on his face, Simon just prods and gropes at you. Gropes your plump breasts, your hips, your thighs. Leaves marks of his finger nails.

"y'see, Kid?" He says, to Gaz, now. "I told ya she's all soft and prime for breedin'"

"yeah, lieutenant.." Gaz says, voice gravelly. "I see.."

"Dunno why Price hasn't fuck'd his cum into her yet." He cocks a brow at you, something evil sparking in those eyes. "He's not bein' a bad husband, is he?"

A cruel laugh breaks from Simon when you don't reply, refusing to with your doe eyes closed shut tightly. He grabs your jaw and shakes your head around, making a loud whine catch in your throat. "Too dumb t'even know wot' m'saying rite now." He laughs cruelly, fixing your hair with a little condescending coo.

"yeah, who's a good girl? You? Yeah?"

You pout, pounding on his chest weakly, unable to find the adequate words to defend yourself. At this point, nothing could change his mind anyway.

Simon sighs, rolling his eyes as he tosses you to the side, onto the couch, face down ass up, and you scramble up, trying to get away, but Simon grabs you by the hips and drags you back, spanking you on your uncovered bottom.

"go fetch me a drink, woman," he says, finally.

You stumble a little, but you're a good housewife — so you clench your teeth and go to refill his empty cup. When you come back, Gaz is extending his crystal cup too, raising a brow in challenge.

"don't forget mine, poppet."

Simon pats him on the shoulder as some kind of sick, depraved praise.

So you pad back into the kitchen and come back moments later with his cup, and place it down on the coffee table, ignoring the look he gives you as you do.

"c'm'here," Simon grumbles, catching her wrist. He pulls her in, and kisses you. It's not soft, more like an animal licking into your mouth and marking his territory, and then pulls back. "Y'reward for being an exemplary little wife." He says, smiles at you, and hushers you off, asking you to sit at his feet until he's done nursing on his drink :(

[heauxvibez]

Make A Movie

Warning: Smut (+18)

Baby, we don't need no script (Script) for this (For this) I'ma throw a couple thousand, baby, strip (Strip) for this (For this) Let me pull my camera out and make a (Movie, yeah) Starrin' (You and me, yeah)

Roman’s grip tightened on your face, his fingers pressing firmly into your cheek as he forced your gaze into the camera’s unblinking eye. He stood tall behind you, his bare chest brushing against your bare back, while you were positioned in front of the dresser. His black, wavy locs dangled over your shoulder, the ends lightly tickling your skin, adding an unexpected layer of pleasure. The soft, coconutty scent of shea moisture clung to his hair, filling your nostrils with a familiar, comforting fragrance that you loved because you also tended to use the same hair product.

You inhaled deeply, savoring it. His face was also nestled deep in your thick, curly 4b/4c fro, smelling that familiar scent of coconut. The soft coils brushed against his cheek as he moved, trying to maneuver around your hair. But even as he shifted, his lips brushing your ear, you could feel the smile tugging at his mouth. He loved the feel of your curls—how they surrounded him, a constant reminder of one of the many reasons he fell in love with you in the first place. The texture, the beauty, the wildness of them—it was all part of you, and it drove him wild.

Normally, in moments like this, your eyes would wander to your reflection, looking for his eyes in the mirror, enjoying the way he watched you. But tonight that wasn't the case—tonight, you were staring straight into the lens of a camera he’d proudly bought over the weekend.

He had gone on and on, boasting about the crystal-clear resolution, the sharpness of the image, and the way it captured even the smallest detail. You assumed he had purchased it for family gatherings, for special occasions, to create lasting memories. But now, it was clear—the memories he wanted to create weren’t the ones shared at celebrations. No, he wanted to capture every nuance of this moment. The deep richness of your melanin skin, glowing under the soft light. The way your eyes glistened as you silently begged for more, the camera drinking in every flicker of desperation. He wanted it all—the sharp clarity of your moans, how the sound of your voice would tremble and rise, your gasps and breaths recorded in perfect unison. The sighs, the whimpers, every surrendering sound was meant to be preserved, etched into the flawless quality of this new toy he was so proud of.

Your hands pressed flat against the cool surface of the black wooden dresser, fingers splayed wide as you struggled to stay still. The hand holding your cheek worked hard to keep you focused on the camera while the other—free from its task of forcing you to submit—was busy teasing your nipple, rolling it between his fingers with a touch that made your pussy throb with a crazy ache.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Roman was a craftsman who had learned all the ways to unravel you. He was cold and calculated, you could feel it with every brush of his fingers. He had watched the way you responded—the slight arch of your back, the soft gasps that escaped your lips when he touched the right spot. He could damn near bring you to insanity, making you drip with need, but he always kept you right there, hovering on the edge of sweet release.

The way his fingers teased your bud made your breath get lost in your throat, and your body trembled from all the emotions that you felt. He grinned as he felt your reaction, knowing that with every flick and tug, your body was begging him for more.

"You love this, don’t you? Love being right here, just about to break."

And it was true. You were soaked, every nerve tingled, with the feeling of being so close yet so far from release. But you knew he loved it too. Teasing you until your body was as wet as the ocean, leaving you desperate and shaking. It wasn’t just about the physical pleasure for him though. As we all know, he thrived on controlling you, on watching you fall apart piece by piece under his touch.

But he also understood your love for submitting to him. He tended to you with all his might, fulfilling your wants and needs in ways that left you feeling cherished. Physically, mentally, emotionally, even financially—he cared for you in all the ways that mattered, even though you didn’t need him to. You carried your own weight, having a successful career, independent and more than capable. But something was irresistible about knowing you didn’t have to do it all alone. Just knowing that he was there, ready to support you without question, made you want to give yourself to him completely.

It wasn’t just his actions; it was the way he did it. The way he made you feel safe and seen, while still allowing you the freedom to be strong. That kind of devotion—selfless, yet confident in his role—was a complete turn-on. Pussy completely wet without question. It made you look forward to the moment when you could submit entirely, offering him everything he could ever ask for, knowing that he would take care of you in return.

The thought of it made you sigh deeply, in the best way of course—the idea of giving him all of you, letting him guide you, because you knew in your heart that you were safe in his hands. It was what made intimate moments special. He knew how much you craved his words, how much you needed to be talked through it, pushed toward the edge while he whispered in your ear. You wanted to be teased, denied, and kept in that delicious state of frustration, only to have him edge you over and over again. And when you could hardly take it any longer, when your body was shaking, he would finish you completely, making you surrender every single piece of yourself to him.

"Tell the camera what you want," he growled dangerously, his hand tightening around your nipple, the sensation somehow simultaneously sharp and sweet. While his other hand slid from your jaw to your throat, his fingers wrapping around you with just enough pressure to make you gasp. You could barely think, let alone speak, "Tell the camera how much you love it when I tease you. When I make you beg for it."

Your body was damn near burning, crying out for release, but you knew he wouldn’t give it to you until you asked for it—until you begged. And even then, he’d make you wait, because that’s how he controlled you, how he made you submit completely. He loved to hear the desperation in your voice, to see the way your body shook, and to know that he held all the power.

“I love it,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as your body quivers. “Fuck, I love when you do this to me… when you make me beg for you.” The words tumble from your lips, barely a whisper as you could hardly form the words.

“Please Roman, I need you..so fucking bad..”

His hand slid lower, fingers trailing from your neck to your other breast savoring the way your body trembled under his touch. You could feel his body heat behind you, his scent and his presence wrapping around your senses. The breaths you took felt heavy, your lips parting as your gaze remained fixed on the camera.

"Look at you," Roman murmured in your ear. His right hand now pulling behind you to travel down the curve of your spine, resting on your waist as he pulled you back against him. His grip was strong, and you were caught between the camera’s cold, silent witness and his touch. "The camera loves you. I love watching you like this."

The camera’s lens seemed to drink in every bead of sweat forming on your brow and the goosebumps on your skin as Roman’s hands explored you. His fingers traced the contours of your hips before slipping between your thighs, teasingly slow. You gasped softly, your voice trembling into the quiet of the room.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your back. "I want you to make the kind of sounds this camera will never forget." he whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You could barely hold back a moan as his fingers pressed deeper, setting a pace that left you breathless. Your body responded helplessly, hips rocking back toward him, wanting more contact. The camera captured it all—your movements, the flicker of need that crossed your face, the sounds that fell from your lips. Everything. And that's exactly what he wanted.

"There you go, that's Daddy's sweet girl.."

Leaning in closer, his mouth traced the sensitive skin of your neck. His fingers quickened their rhythm, and your fingers held on tighter to the dresser if that was even a possibility.

You whimpered his name, the tension coiling tighter inside you. Roman pressed closer, his lips brushing the delicate skin just beneath your ear, as your body arched against him, his muscles melting into the grooves of your own.

"That's it, let it all out." he coaxed, "Show the camera exactly how much you want it."

Roman's fingers played you like an instrument, and with every stroke, every flick, he pulled a new sound from you. Your world blurred as his words sank in, pushing you further into bliss. The sound of your moans filled the room and your gasps were captured perfectly by the camera's mic—your whimpers echoing in the silence. Roman's fingers pressed deep into your pussy, curling and grazing every part of your pussy that made you want to crumble and curl into a ball. You cried out, your pussy contracting around his fingers soaking them into the slick juices that he typically loved coating his tongue in.

As your body trembled in the aftermath, Roman leaned closer, "Perfect," he whispered, "Exactly what I wanted."

The camera blinked its final red light, sealing this moment. It was more than just a scene—it was a movie, starring only you and him.

---------------------------

Aw, this was better in my head lol

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @saintmagx @venusesworld

@mzv11 @tshepisho @cyberdejos2 @femdisa @dayaimonee

[moonshynecybin]

always thinking about that isekai’d into omegaverse you talked about in like 1.5 asks. marc WOULD very much enjoy heats after the initial shock + control freak suddenly can’t control things freakout… he loves to push his body to the absolute edge he would be trying to WIN. (and succeeding. wap too strong) crazy eyes locked in stare you normally only see on his bike

SO fun to think about especially as marc in this is not actually born into omegaverse and instead it has been thrust upon him. pun intended. like he gets sent to this universe and what is even the rosquez HISTORY there. is it a half broken bond situation. is it a regular heat hookup thats NEVER discussed. have they not had sex for yearsssss since sepang or argentina. have they never had sex EVER despite crazy chemistry because they are both subliminally aware that they would bond and they cant fucking do that because of vale's hangups. have they never had sex because EVIL dorna has FORBIDDEN IT between riders and neither of them knew how to deal so the relationship EXPLODED... its all a very rich playground of yaoi backstories to drop never been fucked normal ass marc marquez smack dab in the middle of for me !!!!

but yeah it’s like. in the middle of feeling off balance and insane and tethered to vale/body out of his hands in a way that somewhat makes his control freak ass self uneasy it’s also like. something INTENSELY physical that he sink into and let his instincts take him where they may. he loves that shit. pushing his body to its limit leaning into the base feeling clawing at his hindbrain and not inhibiting himself whatsoever AND vale is there all over him? like he’s GOOD at it and vale is over him and under him and inside him in a way he never thought would happen and it’s overwhelming and through the haze of scent and lust there’s this moment where for the first time in like ten years he can look at vale and know he’s here with marc and not have to THINK about the complex mess of hurt and ego that their relationship has become and he can just let himself get FUCKED. and yeah lol he loves it

[macbethz]

If I think abt this sketch from the DIE concept art too long I get physical symptoms

[ruvviks]

we would sell anything just to buy who we're not // we kill our way to heaven

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[steakout-05]

medic tf2 doodles?!?!?? in this economy!???!?!? (art from yesterday)

most gentle and sweet middle aged german man in the whole entire world smile vs planning to swap all of your organs with a series of interconnected frogs smile

a doodle i did of Medic and Archimedes.... he looks too round in this drawing, not smug and evil enough..... also Mitzi from the RAE appearance :D

i LOVE the voicelines Medic has with Haunted Archimedes, he's not disturbed or even slightly put off by the fact that his zombified dove is 1. talking and 2. has a violent and constant craving for brains. he's just like. being a slightly irritated pet owner about it. he's just like "ugh yes archimedes vants all zhe brains doesn't he. now shut up". also i think this is the most on-model medic drawing i've ever done wtf

[hella1975]

hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[spookythesillyfella]

happy [late] birthday to the clevery guy !!!! <33

~ after being taken out by Tracey for some fun in the city for his big day , once returned home , the birthday boy himself gets some lovely stickers made just for him by Sketch , who had to get over her disdain of the color green for the day , just for her friend's sake . of course , Tony couldn't just not give his dear pal anything , instead baking the computer his cake for the special day , alongside other smaller gifts ;3

also extra digitaltime thing thing for the occasion teehee 💌

[xmaruu11]

sometimes you just wanna gush about your favorite artist and let them know everything you adore about their art

sometimes your favorite artist is your best friend, and now they have no choice but to know about all the good things their art does and how much you adore it

thats me with Doody btw. Ill always remind them how they are my favorite artist and wont believe me.

But thats the truth, and I think more people should shower their favorite artist in compliments to remind them that YES!!! theres people out there who go insane with their art, even small little sketches, that you pay attention to every detail in their work! Even if its incredibly unnoticeable, it shows an artist how much you care for their craft and makes them feel like their work has been appreciated.

Cuz yeah, you can support and artist with all the likes and RBs in the world (please do) but also, replying to the art, commenting things that you love about it, means SOOO much more, even just a simple key word smash bc you just love it so much you cant put it in to words makes a difference.

Show your favorite artist love, they deserve it

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

Stuck on the first few eps of Farscape after finishing up Fantasy High s2 and maybe its the whole most recently consumed bias but I'm really struck by how much it feels like a dnd game??? Bunch of weird lil renegades slapped together and put in weird situations, honestly it would make a really interesting starting point for a game

Anyway John Crichton is a bard/wizard; he does a lot of persuasion as performance and that scene of him collapsing to the floor to write slingshot equations is THE most wizard shit- perhaps Artificer would be more accurate to him but it's not a class I'm familiar with.

[bibiana112]

There's nothing wrong with people having their dearest most specialest blorbo be Eric ztd it is unironically good for the ecosystem and I always love seeing the different perspectives from other fans but what I am here today to ask is why is no one like that about Mira. whatever happened to feminism.

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

#dang it do i have a new oc now

Sounds like!! I'd love to hear more if you've got it!

(referring to my tags on this post)

You will meet a stranger, sometimes, if you make a habit to frequent taverns, inns, halls for game, or even the one tree where the young Bracegirdle cousins sneak off to play marbles. Well, you will like as not meet many strangers, except in the last case, but this one will be different. Or perhaps you get lucky, and don't frequent such places, but find yourself in one unexpectedly, and meet them regardless.

Everyone in Gondor knows someone who knows someone who met Lady Luck, no one has met her themself. If you do, starry-eyed romantics say, you'll be blessed with good fortune for all your days. The pragmatists tell you you'll be blessed with the good sense to discern a scam.

He may smirk at you after winning a bet, some dark-haired man, using his earnings to buy a round for the bar. It's always a different man, but it always goes to Alwed's tab. It keeps the crowd from getting too rowdy, even if the more superstitious get on edge.

No one remembers meeting them the first time, but dwarves with common sense avoid Audr's shell games and silver-toothed smile- you always win, but it's never worth it.

A woman with greying-gold hair and stiff fingers might call herself Eadrun, and challenge you to a game of dice. Few decline, and far fewer win.

For as few elves remain in Middle Earth, the one who calls himself Herendil and laughs as though his name is a joke should be recognizable. He seems young and lighthearted in a way most have lost, but he will play you cards, win just as much as he loses, and disappear, never recognized.

A hobbit-lass may giggle, red curls gleaming in the sun, and introduce herself as Peony Sandheaver, her family is visiting from Bree, and she wants to see how Shire-hobbits play Jacks.

Sometimes an orc prays over a set of knucklebones, knowing that at least one god will hear one prayer. Orcs have little luck in battle, but uncanny luck with dice.

There are countless stories, just as many true as not. Countless names, far more unnamed figures, always just out of place enough wherever they are to be interesting and promise new tales, never enough to provoke suspicion, not at first.

Even those in the Blessed Realm may find this dark-eyed stranger. Always dark-eyed, like bottles of dark glass. They stop by Aulë's workshop on occasion, to learn and suggest and play new games. They never win the first round, but most have the sense not to bet anything they aren't willing to lose on the second.

Oromë's people call them Umbarnica with a laugh and a toast in welcome. They thrive in the drunken revels after a successful hunt, sharp as ever as they dance from game to game, cackling at ill-advised propositions offered as collateral for or against a bet. Usually this means them winning to avoid it, a frequent enough occurrence as-is, but every now and then they'll decide to let someone get lucky. The bragging rights are the real reward.

And there are no guarantees with this stranger. No way to ensure their favor, though many ways to get their attention, few good. They like irony, take pleasure in hubris reaching its fall. They love superstition, even if they don't always honor it, and they love stories. There are gods that can be mistaken for kind, they are not one of them, created to serve the king the Dark Lord could have been. Their favorites are fickle, their grudges subtle but long-held. They love cheaters, unless they're at the end of the attempt. They will always catch you, and you will always regret it. They slink through candle-shadows and pipe-smoke, grinning, dance in town squares turned to faire grounds, curl up on comfy chairs indoors on rainy days.

But sometimes, in these days, you won't meet a stranger at all. Sometimes your storyteller will get a bright-dark glint in their eyes, and some dice will roll strangely high and some dice will roll strangely low and either way the story will be better for it. And if the next time the group meets you need to take a moment to remind the storyteller exactly what happened last session, well. That's why you take notes.

So pray to the dice-god, card-master, quick-sighted. It might do you no good, but they love superstition, and they love stories. And when you play a dark-eyed stranger, don't cheat at cards.

[seilon]

genuinely it is so depressing to spend money drinking just to end up doing nothing interesting and just sitting around

[orcelito]

Ykno the suckiest thing about being broken up with for someone else is that like. Well I'm doing generally fine, all things considered, but I Am kinda sad thinking about the things I've lost and all the casual affection that I can't have now.

But she's out there having all the affection she wants from her coworker, and it's just like. Damn this feels so skewed and SO unfair.