#bad kids my beloved

[differentcollectionexpert]

The intrepid heroes always bring their unique flavor of chaos to the dome, but there is something so sweet about THIS flavor of chaos.

We’re like all going home. TOGETHER.

[lyticiaart]

When Gorgug begun succeeding in artificer class and everyone at the table was so spyched about it it really filled my heart with so much joy, I just had to draw the bad kids cheering him on They are so good to each other ;;

[vampirehayfever]

fig telling ankarna to choose her own purpose while being surrounded by pure lava and heat is beautiful

[magicandmundane]

*after Mon Mothma’s briefing*

Wedge: Hey, Luke! So where’ve you been?

Luke: Yeah, so I went back to Tatooine to break Han’s ass out of Jabba’s Palace. I had to fight a rancor first, though. Luckily, I killed it before—

Omega, on the other side of the room: YOU KILLED MOOCHI?!

[myoonmii]

wishing all my fellow Bildad enthusiasts a good day

[quinnathy]

my elven oracle

[kyiowreck]

can’t stop doodling the bad kids

[zaacoy]

The sillys!! Back at it again!!!

[wildsaltair]

Security

Pairing: Maximus Decimus Meridius x reader

Rating: T (fluff, with a tiny hint of hurt/comfort)

Word Count: 1.2k

Tag List: @enjisbf, @nasatshirts, @empressenchanted, @streets-in-paradise, @xiscamoony, @aelondrias

Author’s Note: Very short little fic that I wrote sort of as a follow-up to Nightmare, but it works as a standalone one-shot too. As always, it's written with the fullest measure of my love, and it's representing all the longing y'all get to witness every day on this melodramatic blog. I love Maximus, and I hope this little fic does him justice :) Thank you for reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Your love is asleep beside you, breathing deep and slow against your neck. After yet another day of backbreaking work in the harvest, he’s exhausted, and all he had the strength to do was pull off his tunic and fall into bed beside you.

You are just as tired, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to fall asleep just yet. You’re too transfixed by him.

In sleep, his face is so peaceful, so free from the worry lines and the intensity he wears through the day. In sleep, his face is relaxed and soft, surrendered to the safety he feels in your bed.

You smile knowing that sharing your bed is his first experience with sleeping so peacefully. He came to you wounded and hunted, having barely escaped an assassination attempt and with nowhere else to go. Though your first few months were fraught with distress and fear, you have both settled into your home with the knowledge that you are safe from the outside world, that his past has been laid to rest and left behind. He still carries his burdens, but they are easier to bear when he can release them at night.

You let your eyes trace over his features now, amazed as always at the sweetness and beauty of the man who holds your heart. His eyelashes flutter against the tops of his cheeks, the lines beside his eyes less furrowed.

He’s sleeping as he usually does: on his back with your head on his chest, his left arm wrapped around your shoulders protectively, his head tilted against yours. His right hand clasps yours where it rests on his waist, moving gently every time he breathes.

Tilting your head back, you smile to yourself as the sounds of his deep breathing reach your ears. The sound only reassures you that he’s sleeping well, undisturbed by anything.

You often remember his first few nights with you — how after making love, he would lie awake for some time, trying to fall asleep. He was always on guard during those days, always attuned to any sign of trouble. He slept with one eye open for months.

And quite often, you would wake to find him up, making a round through the house or in the yard, paranoid about what could be lurking outside. Many were the nights you had to coax him back to bed, assuring him that no one had come for him in the night.

And the nightmares. Those terrible nightmares that plagued him for months.

Once, he awoke in the middle of choking you, having acted out of terror in the middle of a dream. You were afraid he would never trust himself to sleep with you again, but together you worked through it. He’s had nightmares many times since, but they have grown fewer and tamer in the past few months.

That thought makes you smile as well: knowing that your presence beside him at night helps keep his nightmares at bay.

As if in response, the man turns in his sleep, rolling onto his side to face you. He’s still sound asleep, his breath rumbling in his powerful chest, but his right arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to his body.

You are all too happy to snuggle closer to him. The nights have grown colder, and his body is a never-ending source of heat for your bed. You enthusiastically burrow into his embrace, tucking your head under his chin and tangling your legs with his.

Your heart warms knowing that he reaches for you even in his sleep. Many are the nights he has whispered your name in his sleep, groped his hands to find you in the night. Somehow his heart seeks you even when he sleeps.

He pulls you even closer, his breath softening as if he is stirring a little from his sleep, but he does not awaken. Shifting his weight to press against you more fully, he rubs one broad hand up and down your back, fingers brushing your spine.

Without meaning to, you arch your back in response, pushing your body tighter against his. He lowers his chin as though he were awake, dragging his lips across your forehead before coming to rest against the top of your head.

Your smile comes again, unbidden, warm as the heat radiating off his body.

So many nights, you have lain in this very bed and ached with loneliness. How many cold nights you spent huddled under blankets, wishing for a lover to share your home and bed, to fill you with a warmth that would go beyond your body. This man fills every empty spot in your heart, thrills and soothes and pleasures you in every possible way.

And what a joy it is to know that you have done the same for him, that your love is his safety, his delight, and his peace.

With a knot of emotion rising in your throat, you tilt your head back to press the lightest of kisses against his exposed neck. He stirs slightly, his breath ghosting across your ear, and you just rest your lips against his neck to breathe in his scent.

Earth, sweat, and something else distinctly him. It’s a scent you now associate with comfort, companionship, and warmth.

You kiss him again, wanting to touch him somehow even though he’s asleep. His neck is smooth and warm under your lips, and he stirs again, this time shifting his arms closer around you. He tilts his head a bit to the side as if to give you better access.

Then he makes a sound, almost a moan, almost a sleep-muddled whisper, but you know it’s your name. It’s your name he murmurs in his sleep, when he feels your gentle brushes of affection against his skin.

You smile against his neck, resting your mouth there so he won’t awaken. He remains tensed a moment longer, so you lightly run your hands over him to soothe him back to a deep sleep.

His muscles are coiled under your touch, every inch of his body a tribute to softness and strength. His chest moves against yours slowly, and you gently rub your hands over his ribs, his sides, his hips. He finally relaxes, sighing contentedly as he drifts back into a deeper sleep.

Just before he does, though, you feel him lift his hand, stroke it down the back of your head once. His fingers tangle in your hair, and he nuzzles your face gently, brushing his smooth skin and spiky beard against your cheek.

He hums with pleasure, settles himself against your body, then buries his head in your neck and falls back to sleep.

You follow him soon after, cradling him in your arms while you listen to the steady cadence of his breath and the lovely thump of his heartbeat. You thread your fingers in his dark hair until your strength fades into sleep, just long enough to feel him relax completely in your arms.

All the lonely nights, all the sorrow, all the uncertainty — it’s all been worth it for this moment, and for all the moments that have come before and will come after.

Your love is asleep in your arms, whispering your name and holding you close to his chest, and you can both sleep in the peace and satisfaction of a love that transcends everything else.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

More of my fanfiction if you're so inclined :)

[mystiffox]

— bad sanses [crescents] redesign

heyy! thought i'd make a lil debut/intro to my canon utmv (named blue's verse bc i am So Original) starting from night and the gang :]

if anyone has any questions about my verse, you're more than welcomed to ask!! i'd be happy to talk about these skellies bc they occupy most of my brain rn

Killer goes by Shiv while Horror goes by Axe based on their main weapons. Dust goes by Lav, short for Lavender. Nightmare still uses the same name, but the boys always call him Night :]

clothing notes (and extras):

Shiv is the one with the most fashion sense, but even he's been lazy and decided to just walk around wearing a funny t-shirt and shorts sometimes. Definitely the one who gets everyone clothes during supply runs (yes he's fashion besties with plum). Likes clothes with many pockets for storage, too! Whether that's got snacks or daggers in them, you'll just have to dig around yourself /lh

Axe wears lumberjack/farmer-esque clothing to hint at his connection to Farmtale! Farmtale is protected by Nightmare (in secret) as it harbors the last of Horrortale's survivors— the AU was too corrupted to sustain itself— while also being the Crescents' main food supply. The patched jeans and sleeveless vest are actually gifts from the Farm brothers. Them and Axe (+ Axe's brother, Oak) are very close, subsequently making Farmtale a second home to the Crescents.

Lav prefers oversized clothing and probably likes to use weighted blankets to ground himself. Shiv dresses him up most, and Lav just tells him to get dark/neutral clothes with purple accents for him. It feels nice to be taken care of. Usually wears a beanie/cap when he’s at home and is without his hood (has the shortest tail out of the trio, hides it well).

Night prefers fancy-casual because he knows how it feels to wear clothes that didn't fit/weren't comfy for him (still has his old crown, somewhere..). Definitely wears a nightrobe at home too. Technically the necklace is a vial of his own negativity(?) extracted by Sci. I wanted to make it so that everyone else has that on certain charms/pendants infused with that same negativity to act as a hidden tracker for Night to pinpoint where his boys are (and his own necklace could act as an emergency booster if Night gets too weak)

[older ref version]

[muxas-world]

Girls one day will be like this: 😡🤬

And another day like this: 😚

[differentcollectionexpert]

Now having watched the first episode of Junior Year all I can say is;

Bad kids my beloved

[asubakaa]

If you draw bloberta I will give you a kiss 💋

I am waiting xoxoxo I think she has thick eyebrows….Orel inherited ''pretty genetics'' from his mother.

[vampirehayfever]

fabian paying for fig to cheat at school (using his dad) as long as she puts a flint pistol to his banker's head is beautiful and a sign of true friendship.

[machiavellli]

That’s how I’ve been feeling lately😔

[eternallyunrested]

Here's a doodle of Cass for a meme I'm making. I couldn't resist posting her early, drawing her was like a breath of fresh air. Hope I somewhat captured the @team-avia art style 😭