#ides of March is the best holiday

[warrior-cats-junk]

Happy Ides of March

#ides of march #julius caesar #caesar #marcus brutus #Brutus #cassius #Gaius Cassius Longinus #Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus #when did I make this #what was I on #also wth is in the background #like I can’t be the only one who sees the eyeball right #I made this but I dont remember doing so #I’m attracted to you #Roman dagger #dagger #stabbing caesar #happy ides of march #ides of March is the best holiday #silly pun #pun #joke #Caesar joke #what a loser

[minyicho]

happy ides of march everyone!!! my latin teacher dressed up caesar today and went around letting kids stab her with a squeaky rubber knife and being like et tu (insert name). she’s so festive

#shes the best!! #Ides of March #caesar #julius caesar #ceaser #brutus #march 15 #rome #ancient rome #ides of march day #tumblr holidays #et tu brute #beware the ides of march #minyicho #own post

[caffeccino]

Et tu, gumroad?

#i didnt think that the ides of march would be a holiday where something bad happened #caffe personal #😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 #like fuck gumroad was the best one too #now what? #how long until itchio gets squeezed? #sad days

[lefttoesucker]

Happy Ides of March everybody!

Don't forget to eat Caesar salad today <3

#ides of march #my contribution to the best holiday #stab caesar #julius caesar #ceasar #brutus #rome #ceasar salad #tumblr holidays #my art

[feral-ass-raccoon]

YALL KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS.

FUCK YEAH

#ides of march #3rd best holiday of the year tbh

[makenna-made-this]

You mean to tell me a CHICKEN seized this salad??

Happy Stabbing Commemoration Day on tumblr

#ides of march #caesar #march 15 #tumblr holidays #chickens #tiny fluffy dinosaurs #the BEST animals #chickenblr #birdblr #historyblr?? #artists on tumblr #makenna made a thing #bad puns #et tu beula?

[somedudewithantlers]

happy stab-a-politician day guys

#et tu brute #ides of march #kandi #julius caesar #brutus #been making kandi instead of doing hw when i have the chance #basically living my best life #march 15 #just tumblr things #tumblr holidays #gotta post this while it’s still the ides

[overgrown-ruins]

I dunno about you, but today is my favorite day on tunglr.com

#ides of march is the best tumblr holiday #🔪

[appleofstrife]

One day closer, and one day away my fellow conspirators. Now how shall we do it?

#ides of march #julius caesar #assassination of julius caesar #et tu brute #15th of march #conspirators #let’s conspire together #best holiday of the year

[proxima-writes]

title: toyin’ with them older guys

pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 | masterlist

summary:

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.

But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.

Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!

There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.

For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.

But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.

The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.

Your friend had to remind you to breathe.

He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.

One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”

You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.

You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.

He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.

It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.

Too bad he’d never feel the same.

————

Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”

“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.

“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.

“Not the vodka?”

“Gross, no.”

He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.

You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.

He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.

But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.

Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.

You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.

“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.

“What?”

“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.

Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.

“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.

“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”

Us, Joel thinks.

He could get used to that.

________

Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.

You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.

You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.

When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.

You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.

Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.

That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.

“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”

Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.

“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”

“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.

“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”

Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.

________

“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.

“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“I’m on a date!”

“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”

The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.

“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.

Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.

“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.

“Where’s Scott?” You ask.

“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.

“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.

Joel just shrugs.

________

You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.

You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.

You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.

“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?

Only one way to find out.

You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.

“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.

“Actually, more experimental.”

“I don’t swing that way.”

“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.

You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.

“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.

“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”

He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”

“Thank you!”

________

You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.

“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.

“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.

“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.

“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.

Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”

“Are you serious?”

“That depends, are you?”

Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.

Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”

“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.

“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.

“Oh, he—“

“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”

“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”

“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”

Shit.

________

Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.

It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.

“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.

Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.

While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.

You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

________

Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.

You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.

He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.

“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.

“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.

Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.

Maybe not for much longer.

He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.

You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.

“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.

You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.

“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.

He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.

Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.

He wants to hear more.

He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”

Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”

You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.

“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.

His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.

“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.

“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.

“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”

“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.

“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”

You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”

Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”

Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”

Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”

________

Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.

“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.

His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.

“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.

“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.

“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”

He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.

“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”

You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.

“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”

You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.

Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.

He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.

“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.

“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”

He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”

You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”

Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.

“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”

He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.

Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”

You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.

The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.

“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”

That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.

“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.

He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.

“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.

“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.

“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”

________

Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.

“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.

“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”

Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.

He drags you back for another kiss. And another.

“Anytime, darlin’.”

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow

Join the tag list here!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #no use of y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel the last of us #ao3 author #read on ao3

[sophiamcdougall]

A TUMBLR CITIZENSHIP GUIDE FOR TWITTER REFUGEES

Welcome, stranger. Fear not, we were just kidding around. You're mostly safe here. We know you've been through it, and though our teeth are sharp and our unblinking eyes are unnaturally shiny, we're not really going to eat you.

Still, our ways must seem strange to you. Doubtless you feel bewildered by the hoots and growls we've developed over the years we roamed the twilit wastes of Tumblr, alone and gibbering, forgotten by God and Man.

While you basked in the daylight of Twitter.

Don't worry! It's fine. And these sounds actually mean something! It's really quite simple! And I'm here to explain.

A BLORBO

Your blorbo is, very loosely, your favourite character. But not in a casual way. You must be at least a little weird about them. Songs remind you of them. You picture them in scenarios. Maybe you don't write fanfic, but if you did, it would be all about this guy. They are in your thoughts more than you would care to admit anywhere else -- but here on Tumblr you can be free! Infodump about your blorbo without shame!

You may deeply admire your blorbo, or regard them with fond contempt. Some will say that the latter type of blorbo becomes a scrunglo but we regard this as a fussy and unnecessary distinction. A POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW

Like a blorbo, but canonically evil. They have committed crimes against humanity. You either make passionate excuses for these or you revel in their excesses.

The point at which a shady blorbo becomes a poor little meow meow is necessarily subjective.

THE COLOUR RED

When you see an image prominently featuring red, especially a design resembling blood splatters, especially when this appears to be unintentional, it is correct and polite to respond either "a children's hospital!" or "colour theory!"

Why? Others will explain why. For now, just do it.

THE IDES OF MARCH

March 15th, the date of the assassination of Julius Caesar. A high holiday here on Tumblr, celebrated with a festival of memes and shitposts. Put on your best outfit and post a picture of bloodstained senators to mark the occasion.

Hey, maybe they work at the children's hospital! Haha. Now you're getting it!

HORSE PLINKO

This gif is highly regarded here.

That's it, really.

THE GOD OF AREPO

The key figure of the most prominent Tumblr religion. His scripture was begun by @sadoeuphemist in 2018, with @ciiriianan and @stu-pot contributing further to the canon.

(A collaborative modern folktale). EEBY DEEBY

While not mentioned in the scripture of the God of Arepo, Eeby Deeby is an additional name of the underworld region also known as Erebus, Tarturus, Hell, etc.

THE GOD APOLLO

"But I thought you said you worship the god of Arepo?"

We are polytheists. In Tumblr tradition, Apollo's aspect as the god who conveyed the gift of prophecy on mortals is most significant. Alongside the ancient bow, laurel wreath and lyre, Tumblr Apollo has gained a new attribute: the red dodgeball. This image alone is sufficient to mark a post as sacred to, or cursed by, Apollo.

Be careful about prophesying things on Tumblr! Apollo can be spiteful!

We'll leave it there, traveller. Of course there's more. But learn these basics and you'll be well on your way. Soon you will be truly one of us.

one of us.

one of us.

one of us.

#tumblr #twitter

[sydsaint]

It's time for Holiday fics!!!

Summary: The reader is volunteering at a Christmas event for WWE when her long-time friend Austin brings his new tag partner with him.

Friday morning, well before Smackdown is scheduled to start, Grayson and Austin are booked for a holiday charity event with a few other superstars and talents from the company. Including the current NXT women's champ and Austin's long-time best friend, you. 

"So, how come you've never mentioned this Y/N chick, Austin?" Grayson asks Austin as they make their way through the parking lot of the event center. 

"I don't know." Austin shrugs. "You were on NXT not that long ago. I guess that I just assumed that you knew her." He explains. 

Grayson shakes his head. "Nope. Never heard of her. Is she hot?" He teases Austin with a laugh. 

Austin rolls his eyes and pushes Grayson's arm. "Ew. no!" He sneers. "Y/N's my best friend! She might as well be my sister, man." 

"Yeah yeah." Grayson grins. "Do you remember the number of the booth we're supposed to be at? Because I forgot." He admits. 

Austin groans, having also forgotten what booth they're supposed to be at. He begrudgingly pulls out his phone and dials your number. 

Across the event center, you are helping stack some fake presents up in a neat pile for the display when your phone buzzes in the pocket of your Santa skirt. "Austin? Where are you?" You glance at the caller ID before answering. "You're late by like an hour." You scold him. 

"Yeah, sorry, Y/N." Austin chuckles. "Umm, Grayson and I are kind of lost. What booth are we supposed to meet you at, again?" He asks you. 

"Really, Austin?" You roll your eyes playfully. "We're in booth 43? It's one of the ones near the middle of the center." You explain. 

Austin remains silent for a moment, but you can tell that he's thinking really hard through the phone. "Yeah...and where is that?" He asks you with a sheepish chuckle. 

"You are so useless." You make a lighthearted complaint. "Where are you right now? I'll come get you guys." 

Austin relays his position to you before you hang up on him. You dismiss yourself from the rest of the volunteers for the moment and go in search of your best friend and his new boyfriend. 

A few minutes later Austin and Grayson are chatting while they wait for you to show up. Austin is going on about Smackdown later when he notices Grayson's eyes widen while looking over his shoulder. 

"Grayson?" Austin attempts to get Waller's attention back on him. "What are you staring at?" He asks and turns around to find you heading down the hall toward them. 

"Holy hell, mate. Is that, Y/N?" Grayson asks Austin through a slacked jaw. 

Austin nods and watches you power-walk down the hall in your little Santa jacket and matching skirt. "Yeah, that's her." He nods. "Hey! Stop drooling!" He makes Grayson's chest when he catches the awe-struck look in Grayson's eyes. 

"Austin! There you are!" You strut over to the pair. "And you must be Grayson." You briefly eye Waller standing next to him with a dumbfounded look on his face. 

You wait for Grayson to introduce himself, but Waller remains silent. So, Austin makes the introduction for him. "Yeah, this is Grayson." Austin nods. "I like the outfit by the way. very cute." He teases you.

"Bite me, Austin." You roll your eyes. "Just wait until you see the Santa's helper costumes they have for you two." You tease him right back. "Come on! We still have a lot of stuff to do before people start showing up." 

You turn sharply on your heel and start marching back the way you came. Austin follows at your heels and Grayson finally musters up the will to speak once you're a bit ahead of them. 

"Well, I know what I'm asking Santa for Christmas." Grayson jokes with a cheeky grin. 

"Come on man." Austin groans. 

You make it back to the booth with the boys in tow and promptly put them to work helping set up the display. 

A couple of hours later everyone is taking a small break before the event center opens for the day. You are perched on a crate wrapped to look like a giant present and going over the inventory list when Grayson saunters up to you. 

"Now, if I ask nicely, do you think Santa will stick you under my tree this Christmas?" He asks you with a flirty smile. 

"Oh, so he can speak?" You peer over your checklist. 

Grayson chuckles and is quick to rebound from your little quip. "Yeah, you'll have to forgive me for that." He grins. "But it's not every day that I get to see a woman as stunning as you." 

"Oh my god!" You laugh. "Austin! Please come get your boy before he embarrasses himself some more!" You call out to Austin standing on the other side of the booth. "You're gonna have to try harder than that if you want any action from me, Waller." You inform Grayson with a sly grin. 

"Yeah?" Grayson replies before Austin walks over to him. "Perfect! I love a good challenge, sweetheart." He informs you with a wink before Austin drags him off. 

The event center opens and people start to pour in. The day flies by as you sign autographs, take photos, and hand out merch all day. But seeing all the happy fans makes it all worth it. 

Around lunch, you are taking a small water break while your line is empty and watch Austin and Grayson working their line. You observe Waller harmlessly flirt with a couple of girls who come by the booth for a picture and can't help but roll your eyes. 

"He's cute, isn't he?" One of the volunteers walks up to you while nodding toward Grayson. 

"Maybe a little." You admit. "I think that the accent is doing most of the work though." You joke. 

The volunteer shrugs but agrees with you. "Yeah, but I'm okay with that." She jokes. 

You both laugh and a few kids walk up to your line so you get back to work. 

At the end of the night, everyone is taking down some of the stuff for the booth when Austin and Grayson come up to you again. "Hey, Y/N, Waller and I are gonna grab dinner and drinks after we're done here. You want in?" He asks you. 

"Yeah, sure, I could use dinner and a drink." You nod while tearing down an empty box. "As long as Grayson's buying." You add with a grin. 

"Pleasure is all mine, sweetheart," Grayson replies. "Just promise that you won't change out of that outfit." He teases you. 

You laugh and get back at him. "Only if you keep that one on." You nod to his and Austin's matching Christmas Elf costumes. 

"Hey! We both know I make this work." Grayson replies. 

#wrestling #wwe #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #grayson waller #grayson waller x reader

[cleolinda]

Weekend links

My posts

1) From earlier this week: “My ~longform posts are going somewhere else. Dreamwidth? Definitely previewed on Patreon and backed up there. Here’s an unlocked post about it. tl;dr: I know tech bros already scraped everything, but if you tell me you’re going to do it, I’m not gonna hand it to you. Maybe it’s a token effort, but there it is.” Of course I’ll still post links to new writing here. 

2) Some people have March Madness. I now have the Hot & Vintage Movie Women tournament. 

One of the best parts of the tournament (you may remember that Toshiro Mifune won the male matchup) is people reblogging and submitting pictures, further bio information, and personal anecdotes--that sense of the Tumblr collective scrapping for the pure love of their blorbos. I love Edwige Fenech’s eyes and her iconic eyeliner, and I had to step in when she went up against powerhouse Julie Andrews with only one small picture. No, I’m not letting Edwige go out like that. She won’t win, but the people must make their choice knowingly. 

I also posted some pictures for Lady Tsen Mei, because I’d actually never heard of her and was curious. Also, because she’s going up against Musidora and that’s not an easy row to hoe, either. If you see matchups like that, where hotvintagepoll didn’t receive much to post about an actress--appealing to the people with a good picspam in the reblogs is where the fun comes in. 

Bear in mind that running the tournament is an INCREDIBLE amount of work; this was Friday alone. Like, I don’t know the person who’s running this, but it couldn’t be me. They’re working with what they were sent, and here’s how we can be the propaganda we want to see in the world. I will jump in as necessary when Ava Gardner, Gene Tierney, Norma Shearer, Paulette Goddard, and (on my mom’s behalf) Julie Christie show up. But there’s 512 contenders, and it’s going to be a hard fight. 

(I am now reblogging the polls at only one an hour, and when I fall behind, that just means that people who missed them can catch up. Each poll lasts a week, after all.)

Reblogs of interest

You are invited to the assassination of Julius Caesar! If you joined Tumblr during the various internet shakeups last year, you may not be aware that the Ides of March is a major Tumblr holiday. You need to be. 

People have always been people: an immensely long collection that may make you cry. 

Respect for the Welsh language

The “Fool in a Field” theory of life in the universe

A helpful guide to some common birds here in the western US

The Forbidden Colors

“You get to drive away”: A Tale

I was not ready for this development in the Fairy vs Walrus debate

(Did William Butler Yeats believe in fairies? An anecdote from my grad school days)

(”While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a slapping”)

Video

“Recently I’ve been interested in what I’d like to call the historical lesbian wardrobe”

“This is the snake I’ve been looking for my entire life”

Angry kitten scolds water, slaps it for good measure

Cat plays theremin

A speedy boi who doesn’t need a bike to jump

The most relaxed tiger

The sacred texts

Yes, THAT Stinky Bastard Man

Personal tags of the week

I want to be clear that AI has incredible scientific uses and could be used voluntarily by writers and artists for their own experimental projects. That is... not what this AI tag is about. 

Speaking of AI: truly, the Willy Wonka Experience debacle has been a DashCon for the 2020s. 

#weekend links #odds and ends #linkspam

[joeb91]

Happy Birthday to my best friend!

So grateful that I've had her hanging around with me for the last 12 years. Reblog to send her head pats!

I also didn't realize until the other day that her birthday also falls on one of Tumblr's favorite holidays, so a happy Ides of March to you all as well!

A bunch of other pictures from over the years below:

#my cat #cats of tumblr #black cats of tumblr #cat #cats #black cat #black cats #my posts

[star-labs-intern]

The idea of Cisco trying to explain to Harry that Tumblr celebrates the ides of march...

"it's like, an unofficial holiday you know? Like a funny holiday. Like, April fools day."

"so does it take place on March 15th or April first? You're confusing me, Ramon." Harry frowned

"okay pay attention this time. Julius Caesar. Stabbed on the 15th of March. Many many years ago we called it the ides." Cisco spoke slowly. In reality they had the concept on earth 2. Harry just enjoyed being difficult.

Garrick had always been known to get away with faking ignorance of e1 traditions with Caitlin. He had made it look easy, truly, but Cisco had seen through Jay's jests time and again. Harry figured he'd put it to the test.

"We didn't even have a Julius Caesar, unless we did and I just don't know. I'm much better at Atlantean history than Roman."

Cisco quirked his head. "then what do you call Caesar salad? Lettuce, Parmesan, croutons ... Caesar dressing," his eyes were narrowed.

Harry blanked momentarily, cleared his throat noisily, then said, "Crouton salad. They're the best part no?"

"You always have the worst takes, Harry." Cisco was suddenly preoccupied with arguing about the best part of a Caesar salad. Harry grinned, thinking he'd won.

"what's that smile for?" Cisco asked, his eyes narrowing again.

"nothing,"

"are you fucking with me harry?? While i try to explain Tumblr culture to you just so I can share funny memes with you? Is that what I deserve?" Cisco put on a dramatic air and Harry rolled his eyes.

"show me the memes, Ramon,"

#harrisco #ides of march #i mean its canon that Cisco uses tumblr lolol #harrisco drabbles

[sysboxes]

when are you opening your inbox again?? i have a couple of requests id like to make

we have a general answer for this in our FAQ, so please check that out! my best estimate? Late April or early May. It’s school crunch time which applies to not only mods who are students, but our mod who is a teacher as well. March/April is also a huge holiday time for many religions. Personally, we just had Purim and I have to find time for Passover celebrations amidst finals week coming up next month. We also make sure to put our mental and physical health first, and aside from boxes, have also had to talk about the increase in harassment we’ve been getting and dealing with that as a team.

when we closed our askbox in late January (after a month of it being open) we had about 400 requests to do. We’ve gotten around 200 done in the last couple months, but we still have around 200 to go (which it says in our intro post). (Shout out to all the mods for helping carry this blog btw!) I do know many of us will have more time as crunch time comes to a close, but for now, we’re doing what we can.

#mod wonder ❄️ #not a userbox