#i was about to go insane

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[candyskiez]

Y'all have gotta get more insane about platonic relationships like you are about romantic relationships. We need to get more annoying about them NOW. I need to see more meta and losing our minds over them. Get more annoying NOW. More than that. More than that also.

[vxnuslogy]

guess who just survived 17 hrs without any wifi 😁😁

[stil-lindigo]

frankly, the people whose kneejerk reaction to bisan asking for a global strike form the 21st-28th is to say that it takes years to organize a general strike are really unhelpful! no one is saying otherwise, but palestine will be a smoking crater if we all wait for years to do anything - bisan is asking us to do something now. Like are we only supposed to do something if we can do it perfectly??? At some point it’s a valid critique about the work that goes into social movement, and at another point I feel like some people are just trying to absolve themselves from not putting any effort into observing a week of economic inaction.

like idk! I get it, okay! People have bills to pay that don’t magically go away for a strike, we don’t have nearly enough social infrastructure in place to support people to fully stop going to work for a week. But fuck, dude! Stop immediately responding in such a defeatist way! Cut out unnecessary purchases! Try to shop local! Put more effort into promoting Palestinian voices online! Attend a protest, call a local rep, do something!

[sadagios]

drew all the lifers in my style before the year ends ! took a while but i had so much fun :> Original template by @/xmaruu11

[the-blind-geisha]

Geezus, thank the stars. I was about to riot with not having a dark mode in CSP...

I am a vampire. Don't you understand? Anything regarding light makes me hiss.

[chimchiri]

gideon & harrow OR rd and sf as cowboys please please please

It's the cowgirl necro and her gunslinger cav! Who is so damn extra she's got three guns: one left, one right, and one in pole position! (She swears the ladies love it!)

[ruoyeming]

Ghost City stroll <3

[notreallythatlost]

OH. MY. GOD.

words cannot describe how much i love this chapter AHHH

and wdym you’re not good at writing smut???

this was EVERYTHING

And Comes Dawn pt 10

Pairings: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, Isldur x reader.

Word count: 3k

Summary: The tension breaks.

Tags: fluff, pining, isldur being cute, reader says fuck, reader gets fucked, uhh smut, fingering, cream pie (please pull out for the love of god), sauron is a gentle Dom, dirty talk, minor like really super minor choking, confessions of love, a lot happens okay

Notes: IM NOT GOOD AT SMUT AND DONT READ MY OWN IF I CAN HELP IT, so it's not that proof read.

It had been 3 days since you saw Halbrand, now with Galadriel in prison for sedition as well. The eyes of the Numenorians were never more distrusting of you. Had it not been for your new friendship with Isildur, you would have truly despaired. Unbeknownst to you, Elendil had been defending you and your freedom to the queen. You were beyond grateful for what their family had offered you, from clothing to companionship to protection. They had treated you with a kindness you had rarely seen and it was with no ill will or hidden intentions.

“I wish to take a year off, as my father did, but his expectations of me will not allow it,” Isildur spoke to you as you walked through the city as you had done every evening.

“It seems he only wants what is best for you, though. He cares for you, and it is obvious.” Your eyes were not looking at him as you spoke. Instead, they were focused on a group of people who were dancing. You’d never seen anything like it.

“Yes, I know. I suppose I just wish he would listen,” his gaze followed yours, and he smiled, “We could join them, you know. If you’d like.”

You shook your head, “I have never danced before.”

“I can teach you. It's not that hard. My sister made me learn with her years ago.”

“I’m afraid I’d step on your feet.”

“How many times have you run into me, too distracted by some statue or art to pay attention? I assure you, my feet will be fine.” He teasingly bumped your shoulder with his.

You looked at him apprehensively. “I suppose…”

“Come then,” he grins as he pulls you to the group. One hand on your shoulder and the other on your back. He guides you to the music, and as suspected, you did step on his feet.

“Here, watch what my feet do and match yours to my movements.”

You watched his feet, but it almost made it worse. You couldn’t help but laugh and rest your head against his shoulder. “I am no good at this.”

“No, you’re right. You are quite shit at this,” He laughs with you. It's a deep and comforting laugh. It fills you with light.

“Isildur,” You look up at him, “I am a lady. How dare you speak in such a way in front of me.” You try to keep your face serious, but your smile is pulling at the corners of your lips.

“You are a foreigner whose companions have committed sedition and violence. Yet the word shit is too much for you. What about damn? Ass? Thank the valar I didn’t say fuck.” He teased you back.

“Isildur,” you scolded him, but it was not serious, your eyes twinkling with a smile.

“Have you never spoken in such a way?” He askes with a shake of his head, “Of course you haven’t,” he answered for you, “If you say fuck right here and now, I will buy you a new dress, and the hair accessories you seem to admire so.”

You gave him a look with narrowed eyes, “You jest.”

“I am completely serious. If you say fuck, first thing tomorrow morning I will take you to a shop.”

You looked at him, brows furrowed before muttering something inaudible.

“Louder, I have to be able to hear it.”

“Fuck,” you muttered softly.

“C’mon,” Isildur egged you on with a smirk, “A little louder.”

As soon as you spoke the word, an older woman approached the two of you. “How dare you! This is a respectable establishment for respectable people. Leave. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Isildur was trying his hardest not to laugh. You could tell it. He led you through the crowd, and once you stood outside, he started to laugh.

Your cheeks were as red as a tomato, lips parted in surprise, “I got us kicked out.”

“You got us kicked out,” he said in between laughs. It didn’t take long until you were laughing alongside him.

He grabs your shoulders, “Please, I beg you, do not tell my father,” his hands move to your face, squeezing it gently. “He would hang me from his ship's mast if he knew.”

“Perhaps you deserve it.”

He scoffed, taking his hands away from your face. “You wound me.”

“You forced me to say fuck,” you said in a whisper.

“I didn’t force you to say it that time.”

You glared at him, “Shut up.”

“I think you would likely miss the sound of my voice.”

You were about to speak again when an all too familiar deep voice stopped you. Isildurs' expression changed, too. You figured that Halbrand hadn’t seen you. He was talking with the forge master and showing the new crest he bore. You were confused about the matter.

How did he get released from prison and then earn a guild crest?

“I need this job, please, just one sword and I will convince you.” You heard his voice for the first time in days.

“To start anew, I remember.”

“Yes, and to prove to a woman, I am serious in my intentions.”

The forgemaster smirked, “A woman?”

“A woman.”

You stood watching the interaction, almost forgetting that Isildur was there. You had told him of what had happened in the cells between him and Galadriel and then your reaction to it. He knew this had to be hard for you.

“You know,” he spoke softly, “I know you think he is in love with the elf. Or that he is torn between the two of you. But, if he was trying to win the elves' affections, he would be asking for armor to go to war and not for a job.”

“You did not see the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her.”

“But I have heard how he talks to you, how he looks at you. He looks at you as if you were one of the valar. It is rather obvious to anyone who sees.”

You wet your lips, “I do not wish to give my heart to someone who will only break it.”

“If he breaks your heart, I will destroy him,” he teases softly. “But, honestly, if he is what you want, all you have to do is take him. It is in your hands.”

You stood in silence for a moment or two. “I would like to go to my room, to think over what you have said. I did enjoy today.”

“I know, I did, too.” He smiles and squeezes your shoulder before you walk off.

Valandil grasped Isildurs shoulder, both watching you walk away. “You're a stronger man than I. I couldn't do it.”

“She is simply a friend.”

“I am almost certain that you have the names of all your children picked out. You dream of her in a wedding dress."

Isildur rolled his eyes, pushing his friend away, “Shut up. It is an honor to be her friend.” But the sadness as he watched you turn the corner told another story.

“Come, let us get drinks. I'll buy yours.”

~

“When did you get back?”

The door had not opened all the way before you spoke. You had spent the evening and some of the night thinking over the words that Isiludr said. What did you want? It wasn’t hard to come to the answer, but it was figuring out what Halbrand wanted that vexed you. Would you end up hurt and heartbroken?

You did not want that.

But you would never know if you didn’t try. If you sat and did nothing, he would surely move on. Isildur was correct, as well, that if it was Galadriel's affections that he sought, then he would have been asking for armor. A job sounded like he wanted to stay, to make a permanent place for himself here. For himself, and,perhaps, you. It was with that thought that you found yourself outside his door.

You regretted not waiting until the morning when you saw him, loose shirt and hair dripping from a bath. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him.

“Early this morning, before sunrise.” He spoke, his eyes taking you in. You saw it now, what Isildur had mentioned. He did look at you as if you were one of the valar. As if you hung the stars themselves and taught the sun how to shine.

You stood there, in silence, looking at him and not knowing what to say or do. The revelation made your breath catch in your chest. Also, you had missed him, and you had felt heartbroken. Now, looking at how he looked at you, you thought perhaps he had been heartbroken by you too.

“Sweet one, I am sorry for what happened before. I ..-”

You shook your head, holding up a hand. It took a moment for the words to come, and when they did, they were but a whisper.

“Do you love me?”

He looked at you in shock. You felt like your heart stopped beating in your chest as you waited for an answer. He simply stood there. You could see in his eyes that he was thinking a million things at once. When he didn’t speak, you asked again.

“Halbrand, do you love me?”

He wet his lips and nodded. “I do,” his voice sounded broken, almost defeated. Like loving you was losing some game. His eyes lifted from where they stared at the floor and looked at you.

Any sense of self control, of decency, it all crumbled with those simple words. It was as if a magnet drew you to him. Suddenly, his face was in your hands and your lips on his. He did not attempt to hesitate. A groan that soon turned into a growl rumbled in his chest as he kissed you back. He tasted wine and smoke. It was intoxicating. Your fingers found their way into his hair as he held your face in his hands.

He broke the kiss, holding your chin in his grasp as he kept your face away from him. “Sweet one,” his voice was deep and rough. You could feel his breath on your skin.“Tell me this is what you want.”

“I want this,” you didn’t hesitate a moment, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” Halbrand groaned, pulling you into his room and shutting the door. His lips were on yours in an instant, pushing you against the door. One of his knees found its way in between your legs as his tongue tasted the inside of your mouth. Your mind was quickly becoming fuzzy, a warmness spreading through your body, an aching between your legs. His hands were frantically moving along your body, as if he wanted to feel all of you at once. His hands were calloused and rough but you enjoyed it. Just as you enjoyed the rough scratches of his beard on your face.

This time, it was you who pulled away for breath. The air between you was hot and thick. He rested his forehead against yours with one of his hands gently holding your neck. “Tell me to stop, sweet one, and I will,” his thumb caressed your skin lightly.

You looked up at him, “I am yours.”

“Do not say words when you do not know the weight of them, sweet one.”

“I am yours,” you repeated, in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, you guided his hands under your dress and to the sticky, wet heat between your thighs. You couldn't help but smile at the way his breath hitched in his throat and the way his eyes flutter.

His fingers moved, rubbing soft small circles against your clit and watched your face intently. “Has anyone touched you like this?”

You shook your head, and the hand still on your throat squeezed gently, “Use your words, sweet one.”

“No, only you.” You gasped, his finger slid inside you.

“Fuck, do you hear that?” His finger moved faster, the wet sound of your arousal filling the room. “My sweet one,” he cooed, “fucking soaked at the thought of my cock, huh?”

You whimpered, bucking your hips against his finger. He added another one, his eyes never leaving your face, and you cried out his name. Your lips parted slightly and he took it as an invitation to kiss you once more. It was wet and rough and sloppy. He was getting just as lost in the moment, you could tell by the almost primal grunts and groans that left his lips.

His fingers never stopped, even when his lips found your neck. His lips sucked, teeth, teeth nipped, and tongue soothed all well. You gasped and whimpered at his touch. There would be hickeys there in the morning, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. His hand on your neck moved to the valley between your chest before cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your clothed nipple.

That was enough, your cunt clenched around his fingers and your body arched into him. It was a pleasure you had never experienced before, your mind went blank.

“That's it, that's my girl,” Halbrand mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

You breathed heavily. You could feel how you had coated his hands. Your senses came back to you. Your head fell back against the door, “that was incredible.”

He chuckled, his thumb coaxing you to look at him. “Pretty girl, look at me.” You did as he told you, his hands cupping your face. Your own essence smearing against your cheeks.

“That's my girl,” he squeezed your cheeks in his hand. “My pretty fucking girl. I need you to look at me, okay, and I need you to be honest. There is nothing more I want right now than your cunt squeezing around my cock but I need to know you want that too.”

You breathed heavily, that feeling in between your thighs returning, though you weren't sure it had ever left. “Yes, Halbrand, please.”

That's all it took for him to hoist you against the wall, bunching the material of your dress at your hips. He was too desperate to wait to take your clothes off. He made quick work of lowering his pants just enough to free his cock.

“Sweet one, look at me, in my eyes. If this hurts, tell me, and I'll stop.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. One hand held your hips in place while the other gripped your face, ensuring you looked at him and only him.

The moment his cock stretched you, your mouth parted in a gasp. It didn't hurt much at all, perhaps due to the slick arousal that was there already.

“Fuck,” his breath hitched, “Fuck. Does my cock feel good, sweet one?” You nodded, “No, no, no. Use your words. Let me hear it.”

“Your cock feels good,” you breathed out.

“Such foul words from such a pretty mouth.” His thumb traced your bottom lip. “I'm going to move now.”

You nodded before catching yourself, “please.”

The first stroke made your eyes roll back. He felt incredible. You could hear the slick sound of him fucking you and it only aided in your arousal.

“You're taking my cock so well, sweet one.” He kept moving, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, soon your hips were moving to match his thrusts and your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

Something about that flipped a switch in him. His thrusts were harder and faster, and his fingers gripped you tighter. But you did not mind at all.

“You're mine,” he whispered. “This my fucking cunt, isn't it?” When you nodded his eyes all but rolled into the back of his head. You were his and his alone. You were gone, your thoughts only consisted of him. How he was making you feel. There was nothing else in this world other than his cock.

“My cunt is yours,” you repeated, your eyes started to close but he grabbed your face.

“Eyes on me, sweet one. Focus on the feeling. I want to see how good I make my pretty girl feel. Look at those pretty eyes. Those. Gorgeous. Fucking. Eyes.” He gasped, his grip on your face tight. Every word he spoke, he thruster harder into you. You whimpered and arched into him, your fingers now tugging at his hair desperately.

“You feel that cock, huh? It's yours, only yours. This is your cock, sweet one. I am yours. No one else will have me like this."

Your breathing quickened, his name falling from your lips over and over. Desperate and begging.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered, “tell me you love me and I will come undone.”

Through whines and whimpers, you spoke. “I love you.” it was you who came first, crying out his name as white stars exploded in your vision, but he soon followed. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt the hot breath and vibrations of his moans as he filled you.

He stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily. You finally gained your senses and couldn't help but start to giggle. That was incredible. You'd never felt anything like it.

“Are you laughing at me?” Halbrand teased, his face still in your neck.

“No, no. I just….that was incredible.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I take it you're going to want to do it again.”

“Well, yes, but preferably on a bed next time.”

He chuckled and lifted his head, “I love you,” he gently squeezed your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. I need you to know that,” he rested his forehead against yours.

“I know, Halbrand. I saw you today, at the forge. I know.” You wrapped your fingers around his wrists and gently squeezed.

“The elf means nothing, not compared to what I feel for you. I consider her a friend, nothing more. You must believe this. You are….everything.”

You nodded. “I love you, too.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and neck. “Let's get you a bath. Once I take you to bed, I'm not going to let you leave."

[poisonpercy]

Gotta be honest, the popularity of blond Percy thanks to the pjo show is driving me insane because every time I see pjo fanart, I have a crisis over what little blond boy is being depicted

[buggsxp]

they mean too much at this point, wl really does stand for women love

[walkerrenee]

sometimes i randomly remember how insane maggie stiefvater was for making ronan lynch—a man that can create reality—a man of god, when he himself is a god of a man. then to take this man and have him be not only in love with, but a literal soulmate of a man named adam. parrish. adam parrish. who, mind you, lives above ronan's very own place of worship. and is the namesake of the first of mankind that the bible says god made from the literal dust of the ground (adam parrish: comes from nothing, hair "dusty" in color) and appoints him to care for the garden of eden (adam parrish: sacrifices himself to ronan's sentient forest). then has adam viewing ronan as a god and ronan saying "maybe he dreamt (created)" adam???? like who just fucking writes that and goes about their life?

[pyrotechnicarus]

Ok also I think the reason I Saw The TV Glow is so powerful (and everyone is making jokes like it got them to start hrt) even beyond its fundamental message of hope and There Is Still Time etc is because as a trans person there are so many people and medias that will ask you the question What If You're Faking It. What If It's Not Real. And ISTVG is the first media I've seen that asks What If You're Not? What if you're not and you keep going on like this?

And it gives that question a name and a physical presence and a weight and an aesthetic and a horror. It's like TV static. It's like falling asleep on the car ride home. It's like living with a light inside you crawling to get out. It's like suffocating to death. It follows that thought to its logical conclusion and, in a frankly extremely painful and hard-to-watch but deeply needed way, excruciatingly draws out what that looks like. Suspended animation. Stasis. A life that is not your life.

It says that choosing not to transition is still a choice.

[perlukafarinn]

seven years later i am still not over the fact that dean killed himself because cas was dead and cas never even found out

and to make it even worse, it happened the same episode cas came back to life. dean killing himself to join cas in death, not knowing that cas is actually alive? literally the plot of romeo and juliet aka the most famous love story of all time. and this was never fucking resolved

truly the show of all time (derogatory)

[okidraw]

i wanted to show them the stars.

[theoldkyokodied]

Another doodle pile for the peculiar diet duo