#yeah and it's normal and it's fine

[oureddie]

welcome home hugs & smiles 4x14 & 8x17

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[xxplastic-cubexx]

top five worst people to be around when theyre experiencing road rage

[shepscapades]

[dbhc flavored] Hermit a Day May: Day 23 — Tango!

[embracedfire]

Pointing at you

Look at him go plunk into nuclear waste

Big ol' monster man

[talon-dragonbeast]

they call me the fearer. on account of having incredibly hyperespecific fears that could never ever come true. ever :}

[sakurabraches]

do you ever think about how glinda sees elphaba as good and beautiful and elphaba sees glinda as smart and powerful when no one else does

[giantkillerjack]

Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!

Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*

Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!

[rocketbirdie]

small problems, for a change

[part 1] [part 2]

[buckleyflower]

eddie living his life in texas while everyone in his social circle back in L.A. is bullying him into gayness what a time to be alive if only he knew!!!!!!

[tall-willows]

a pet peeve of mine is when people characterize the narrator as an innocent victim of tyler's plans.. like dude he was fully participating in project mayhem for a bit there. his biggest gripe was with the fact he wasn't "special" to tyler anymore and wasn't let in on the plans first. he's only snapped out of it when tyler is fully gone and bob ends up dead + marla's safety is put at risk. what you have to understand about him is he only let tyler seduce him into his ideology because he has a shaky moral compass to begin with. he literally starts the story by exploiting other people's terminal illness as a sleeping aid lmao he was already not a great guy tyler just made it Worse i think

[feelo-fick]

does chilchuck get an cunty outfit like marcille did or does he stay in his usual outfit? (im assuming he becomes the master of the dungeon in the tragedy au) because i think he deserves one, let him have a funny outfit

no clue what you mean by "master of the dungeon" -- but chilchuck is on vacation , so i dont imagine him wearing anything super fancy. just whatevers comfortable + presentable enough :D his usual outfit is for work , so thats out of the question, of course.

(inspired by @cabinette's dm chilchuck design :D)

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

Gabriel: CHAT, STOP TRYING TO FUCKING EAT ME.

I AM NOT NUTRITIOUS AND I DO NOT TASTE OR SPREAD LIKE BUTTER.

V1: Ah, you spread alright.

Transcript:

STOP TRYING TO FUCK ME.

Audio source

[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 :)

[fairyroses]

He was about to kill you, Lex. Or divulge something you didn't want me to know.

— SMALLVILLE, "Forever" (4.21)

+ bonus from "Arctic" (7.20):