#hes still fine. in my heart.

[organvaults]

new nyen tanktop image dropped i feel like i just drank the coldest glass of water after 10 years of being dehydrated HES SO FUCKING FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!

[hinamie]

these 3 and their weird catty love triangle have bewitched me body and soul

[soundleer]

ooough jebin me beloved <3

[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 :)

[sergle]

BY THE WAY, Hugo The Dog pulled out a nightmare scenario on me and ate an entire half-loaf of homemade raisin bread, which had an EXTREMELY HIGH RATIO OF RAISINS, and for the first time ever I had the experience of inducing vomiting for a dog at home. At like midnight. HE TRIED TO DIE.

this is the face of a dog who tried to fuckin kill himself. he wagged his tail while I forcefed him hydrogen peroxide.

[anxious-chaos-art]

OH MY GOD HES (more of) A SLUT

[calamarispiderart]

you really are pathetic.

[sersfandomthings]

wanderer

(referenced from that one shot in the 3.3 interlude quest)

[kasieli]

sometimes I get stressed then I remember they made Damian/Raven canon in the DCAMU and then suddenly everything is fine

[sdrose93]

Top Gun 1986 and Top Gun: Maverick: 2022 ❤❤

Pete Maverick Mitchell 😍😍❤‍🔥

[respectthepetty]

The Heart Killers' Colors? - Ep. 3

Three episodes in, and I'm positive that Bison is a Red Rascal and Fadel is a Black Brooder.

But I never had any doubts about my pretty emo boy.

He is emo, so his soul is black (and so is his underwear, AYEEE!)

He is also very pretty.

And Style knows just how pretty this sad emo is.

(which, hopefully, everybody else who is watching this show is as well because people have been sleeping on my boy Joong for too long while my ass has been here thirsting over him for years) *I need a moment to collect myself*

um . . . where was I? Oh yeah! I still don't fully believe Style is a (light) Blue Boy when he wears all these animal prints.

But I do know his presence annoyance is making Fadel lighter.

Perhaps it's because ever since Bison told him to go full throttle on Fadel, the kid hasn't let up on his mission to instigate a fight with Fadel solely so Fadel can choke him again.

Which was actually a solid plan.

But maybe Fadel is lighter because he likes big buns and he cannot lie.

Or maybe it's the lethal combination of Style's big brown eyes and suckable lips that finally caused Fadel to give in (because it would cause me to give in, like, weeks ago!)

But I think it's because Style actually sees Fadel for who he is since he already figured out that Fadel is hiding a killer secret.

We now know Fadel once had someone special who he was happy with, but even in the past, Fadel wasn't as light as he was with Style's constant pestering.

So I want to know what other buried secrets my pretty Black Brooder is hiding that makes him sooo dark.

Keen obviously knows.

And even though I want Pepper's character to cause a ruckus with Fadel the same way his character did in Star in My Mind, I have a feeling his character will do much worse here since I've only had him for two minutes yet don't trust his no-consistent-color behind!

Which brings me to this fine ass(hole).

He is supposed to be a (dark) Blue Boy, and even though both him and his buddy are wearing blue shorts, they switched the colors of the love interests!

Bison is a Red Rascal. He is a firecracker. He is a cherry bomb! So the fact that Kant is wearing blue (it's denim, but I'll take what I can get how I can get it!) won't let me forget that he wore Fadel's color at the pool instead of Bison's!

However, I did notice the red writing on the back of his shirt and another very interesting place considering this boy knows Bison is a killer who he needs to collect dirt on. The heart? Already, sir? Simp behavior if I've ever seen it.

But then again, this fine ass(hole) who is wearing yellow (WHAT IS THIS?!) is clearly not thinking rationally when it comes to his little angel demon.

Because this idiot poured the drug into a red drink!

Therefore, IT WAS ONLY GOING TO MAKE THE DEMON STRONGER!

Bison probably gets that trait from Mother because she seems like the real devil of this story since she showed me her true color immediately while looking amazing. Leave it up to a woman to get the job done right the first time.

I'm looking at you, Kant and Style.

Get your shit color together!

For my sanity!

I just need to see a little crumb or two.

Or else.

Joong is sooooooo freakin' fine

[laqueus]

i'm rewatching tron uprising again for the first time in a while and I'd forgotten just how... graphic??? some of the violence is

holes punched in chests (multiple occasions)! a bisected guard dragging themself across the floor & trailing digital gore! a (failed) public execution where the prisioners are being pulled apart by lightcycles! dyson's caved-in skull! tron's entire fucking torture scene that was genuinely harrowing to watch! let's carve out his eye! let's carve out tron's fucking eye!

[mitahz]

as long as people stand up to save each other ... someone will inherit that will of heroism.

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

I just know Grizel cares so much about Fitz.

She's known this boy since he was 14 (?) and she's watching him grow up.

She's hung around him for years, day and night.

She's eavesdropped on his conversations, and she was there for all of the aftermath of Alvar's betrayal.

She watched his world fall out from beneath his feet first hand. She heard the whispers that followed him everywhere he went. She watched his shoulders fall.

She probably watched him bake treats for his friends. She probably watched him cry and grieve. She probably dragged him out of his bed and showed him how to work out to get out of his head. She probably reminds him to eat, and to get some vitamin D. She probably listens to him pace his bedroom well into the night. She probably listens to him talk to Mr. Snuggles when he's really overwhelmed and just needs a friend who won't judge him.

She'd die for this little sad, short-tempered baby who has done nothing wrong ever in his entire life. And her heart aches for him. For the way he can be surrounded by people, but still be so lonely.

She probably knows him better than most people just off of observation alone.

idk man. we never talk about it. and the friendship angst/potential is immaculate.

[avocado62524]

[fareehaandspaniards]

I know Miquella chose a bad way to set a new age... But I still feel so sorry for him ;_; He loved Radahn...