#ALSO I CACKLED AT

[beebfreeb]

[essektheylyss]

I understand the impulse to clown on Essek for walking around in Vasselheim with his recognizable voice with the Bright Queen's spearhead commander, and of course we could turn to the metatextual elements (the necessity of signposting the world for players on the part of the GM, the ease of using a familiar ally to introduce a relevant NPC and new point of contact) to dismiss this if we wanted, but I think it's more interesting—and funnier, as you'll see—to imagine this as simply an extension of the laws and logic that dictate the Mighty Nein as a narrative entity.

Fundamentally, the Mighty Nein within their campaign pursue personal and collective agency, often at the expense or in denial of political power. Where they do interact with more political forms of power, they evade its grasp upon them, most notably in their interactions with the war, but also while they engage with the Cerberus Assembly, the Cobalt Soul, and even the Revelry. The way they pursue agency, on the other hand, has far more to do with their own support of one another and their own individual power, especially where there is magic involved, and manifests in having the freedom to move and act as they wish in the world.

The culmination of this, as we know, is the mechanical ability in their final battle against Lucien and the Somnovem to manipulate the terrain of the battle map to their advantage with only imagination. At the same time, Jester and Caduceus can both call in free favors from their gods, one of whom is unlimited by the Divine Gate and in fact is far more governed by fey logic. Fjord has made three different divine pacts and is virtually unrestricted by any of them. Caleb's hallmark is an almost infinitely malleable home that almost literally seems to operate as a hammerspace, with a pinnacle dedicated to the potentiality of the universe, the application of which is one of his signature spells—against all odds successful in his initial goal, no longer fueled by guilt and grief, of bending reality to his will. It's narratively and thematically cogent that this be the calling card of the party as a whole.

The Mighty Nein are, in effect, dictated by Looney Tunes logic, and nothing else. They have been so successful in their pursuit of their own freedom that they no longer abide by the cosmic laws of Exandria, let alone the laws of physics or sense. So yes, from an external point of view, it does look exceedingly foolish for Essek to be traipsing around in Vasselheim under the Bright Queen's nose, but it's far more entertaining to argue that being a member of the Mighty Nein in fact simply confers the capability of ignoring the laws of reality without consequence when it's narratively convenient, characteristically interesting—or just really fucking funny.

[numberonetribble]

Ratchet yelled at him too hard :(

[jadewritesficshere]

Steddie soulmate AU where Eddie is a famous musician, everyone assumes he doesn't have a soulmate. Eddie was just smart and doesn't confirm, doesn't want to go through rabid fans who claim to be his soulmate. He's had too many show up wearing his initials they tattooed on themselves even before he was asked about soulmates in an interview.

Enter Steve Harrington who works as a nurse. Just casually on his third nightshift in a row in the ER. Sipping some coffee trying not to fall asleep when they get the call about some confidential patient coming in.

Eddie comes in for some injury. Steve has 0 clue who he is, just says "You look familiar, did we go to school together?" And Eddie practically falls off the stretcher at Steve's feet. Goes all googoo eyes at him. Steve being mildly concerned because Eddie's heart rate keeps skyrocketing (its because Steve is touching him).

One of the other nurses can't help but try and get the gossip from Steve, who is very much confused as to why she cares about this random patient. She tells Steve who Eddie is, and he's just like ???? Okay???

Steve doesn't admit it but the picture she shows is HOT. It's Eddie, flipping off the camera, tongue out. He's covered in tattoos, including the word 'sorry' written in a weird script on his middle finger. He's shirtless and his pants are so low that Steve can see the dip of his hips creating a v and-

Steve has to walk into the supply room to get himself under control. Pretends it doesn't mean anything and goes back to his job as his heart thuds rapidly in his chest.

Eddie tries not to pass out when they draw his blood, Steve holds his hand. It feels right. Eddie can't help wanting to ask," Hey, do you have a soulmate?" But he hates being asked that question, so he won't.

Until Steve bends over, his scrub top lifting up slightly. Eddie can't help glancing at his ass, but then he can't breathe. Because on his lower back is the initials EJM.

"Steve G. H?" Eddie asks as his voice goes up an octave. Steve turns, bewildered ," How did you-?" "Edward James Munson." Eddie whispers.

Oh

[tizeline]

Draw rottmnt donnie and rottmnt leo fighting

The word “fight” can be interpreted a number of ways, so you get one drawing of the two of them doing some friendly sparring and one where they’re just having a stupid sibling fight

[salamispots]

something something giant isopod sharing is caring pass the detritus

inprnt

[raapija]

my favourite couple

[egophiliac]

What do you think of Rook's savanaclaw card? <333

I didn't get him (and I need to save my keys for Silver's birthday, sob) so I looked up his groovy, and I'm not over how incredibly dramatic and epic and cool it looks in direct contrast to the absolutely ridiculous context. just look at that dynamic action and his majestic sparkling tears and keep in mind that this is pretty much right after a bunch of characters have been dance battling for his soul.

and then even the actual moment of the groovy is just like

this is NOT a negative in the slightest, I love it all, this truly was an incredible update in so many ways

[arkangelo-7]

I hc that after Bruce’s infamous spine-breaking fight with Bane, all the Batkids pitch in and get Bruce one of those super bougie gamer chairs for the Bat-Computer. Like this thing is all leather, it’s got cup holders and LED lights, and that bad boy swivels smoother than butter.

It’s also bright fucking red. Robin red.

[idliketobeatree]

the allusion to the cat king and esther having a thing sometime long ago, and after a messy break-up deciding to avoid each other at all costs is a bit mental. imagine getting stuck in the same small town as your bloodthirsty ex, but you're both supernatural beings, living for hundreds of years and are only really separated by a few neighbourhoods. i'd go crazy. what if you go to the market to buy milk and she's there in the corner picking up packet bird food. do you just pretend to walk into a different aisle

[skylersprompts]

DC X DP Prompt *2*

Danny was tired. Do this, do that. His parents wanted him to study harder. Jazz wanted him in therapy. His friends wanted for him to keep heroing. His rogues wanted to fight him or in Vlads case also as his son. And the last few month the observants were breathing down his neck, because they wanted him to do his kingly duties.

It was just to much.

And as much as he loved most of them, he was about to snap. It isn't that he didn't wanted to do most of those things. It was just to much at once.

So he wrote a note and left it for Sam and Tucker to find.

His next stop was Clockwork. The ghost of time may drive him up the walls from time to time, but he also knew what would be best to do.

Since CW didn't deter him from his plans, he pushed forward into the next best natural portal he came across...

The Wayne's looked owlishly at the small white haired child on the dinner table. The boy dropped unceremoniously through an swirling lazurus green portal.

He appeared to be around 5 years old and looked just as confused as them.

Until his mood shifted and a scowl appeared on his tiny face.

"He knew this would happen and didn't tell me! This asshole!"

"Language, young sir", and of course Alfred was the first to compose himself.

[wispurring-moss]

it's funny to me because this isn't even who they actually are in the self-indulgent Hella-Swap AU that lives rent free in my head at all times, but every time i watch this ep my heart yearns so badly for Angel to get to exist as the literal embodiment of (non-self-destructive??) partying & having a good time, so i Finally gave in to the massive need i've had to draw this image for ages now lmao~ TwT

and was this also perhaps just a perfectly plausible excuse to get to draw Husk in a cutoff leather jacket? ...what are you, a cop?? mind your business x'3c

(p.s. if it wasn't glaringly obvious, i definitely cobbled together the bg from the show itself so all the shoutouts/credits/etc. to whichever of the talented crew put together this gorgeous scene; if anyone knows/has links to the specific artist(s) for this one lmk so i can update accordingly~! ✌️✨)

[dizzybizz]

ok, look... i blame @dirtd0g for bringing up their asses with the dumpy tournament last week.....

literally all i could think was this:

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

GRAYSON! I MEANT GRAYSON! RICHARD GRAYSON! I FORGOT ABOUT PENISES

Anon- this is the funniest fucking thing ever, because I hadn't SEEN the first ask yet, just the notification for this one

And of course I (high off pain meds) was confused as hell- like wtf did Richard have to do with you forgetting penisis exist??

Then I saw it. In all its glory.

[kevin-ibw]

Vox when Lucifer forgot to add the "up" part when he said he was gonna fuck Adam VS Vox when Niffty stabbed the shit out of Adam.

He's in the ace specs ya'll I'm telling you.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Hi Lovely, just dropping by to say that you can totally decline weigh ins if not extremely necessary. You're a fantastic writer, you've got excellent music taste and clearly are funny at hell. Plus you can probably lift every twat nurse who tuts and scoffs at you, they shouldn't every judge you.

If you're up for it, I'd die for some NikPrice in a proper sex shop (Not a gag/gimmick one) or maybe a lil NikPrice who want to bring in a certain delightfully sassy sergeant to their dynamic.

Head up, we are all here to support you!

😊

Thank you for this, Selkie. It was a massive boost going in. So, Nikprice in a sex shop, eh? Well, obviously I had to visit Prowler to, uh, check it still looks the same as the last time I visited. Here we go...

Nik and John visit ProwlerRED in Soho as Nik helps John take those first tentative steps in exploring his sexuality.

cw: fetishwear, inexperienced and nervous sub, teasing Nikolai.

Price stood opposite the shop and stared at the giant white paw on the black banner between the ground and first floor, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, his beanie pulled low around his ears to disguise the hot flush colouring them a deep red.

They stood at the crossroads. Passersby dipped into the gutter to get around them on their way down Old Compton Street and Price stepped back a little further as a cyclist hopped the pavement, swerving a stationary taxi that was blocked from turning into Dean Street. Price's eyes would make it to the window eventually, but first he needed to get over the road.

"We should go in," Nik said, exhaling the last breath of cigarette smoke as he ground it out under his boot. This had been his idea. He had spotted Price eyeing up some of the leathermen at the bar the previous evening, and teased his interest out of him under the duvet of their exorbitantly expensive hotel bed. It was hard to keep secrets from Nik when his hands and mouth were on ya... Some kinda witchcraft.

Price knew what leathermen were. It was impossible not to when your old man had been both a sergeant in the armed forces and a keen biker. It was a joining of the two things together; the latent homoeroticism of a career and a hobby that had been, at the time, completely male dominated. His old man had been predictably foul in his judgements of his fellow soldiers, but Price had been fascinated. He'd avoided looking too deeply at why he found them so--

Price was... he was interested, alright? Something about the way that the leather looked on a man's body; the harnesses, the jackets, the jock straps. He didn't much care for the caps or the police shirts. If he wanted to wear a cap, he'd give in to Mac's relentless naggin' and get promoted, you know, wear a cap that came with a bloody salary increase, and Peelers weren't exactly high in his esteem.

It was the smell and the texture of the leather against sweat, the slide of it across hard and soft curves as leashes and harnesses shifted, the sound of belts snapping together, watching the dominant partner haul their willing subordinate around and the responding trust. The relief and pleasure on faces that weren't covered by masks, moans muffled by gags. That looked good. Real good.

Imagining Nik's hand wound through a--

Price swallowed.

"John?"

"Hold up, I'm gettin' there. Don't rush me." Price bristled, shoulders rising up around his ears. He didn't even need to look at Nik to know what his face was doin'; Price could feel his grin like atmospheric pressure and it rankled him. "This ain't funny, Nik."

"It is funny," Nik said, arms folded across his big chest, open palm tapping his own elbow. "This is not live fire fight or hostage situation. You need to relax."

"I'm perfectly relaxed," Price said, immediately dropping his shoulders and sniffing when Nik raised his eyebrow. He bounced on his toes and coughed, aiming for nonchalant, but knew his eyes were wider than a rabbit's gazing into oncoming headlights. "See, fine."

"It is just a shop."

"I can see that."

"The owner is half your size."

"Oh yeah? You well acquainted?"

"Fairly."

"Course y'are." Price's cheeks reddened and he scrubbed a hand through his beard. "Alright. Ground rules. Nothin' that's sharp or... Let's just stick to the harness."

Nik hummed and started crossing the road. Price tried to grab his arm to get at least some verbal agreement, but Nik had already skipped up the opposite curb and was looking through the window. Price waited for a black cab to pass and then jogged over to stand at his side. He could see himself in the reflection of the window, hunkered low. "Is that a leather pig mask?"

"Da," Nik said, examining a full body harness with a metal cock ring at the groin. Price hazarded a glance at what had Nik so interested and his heart skipped a beat, his fingers curling into fists inside his pockets . Nik tapped his elbow. "Come." Price let Nik take his elbow and drag him through the door on the corner of the building, his breath held for... fuck knows what reason.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The same smell as the bar the evening before, except without the added layer of sweat that had made his mouth water. It was sharp, clean. Behind the mannequins in the window were two railings of leather harnesses, and along the walls were racks of leather shirts and trousers. Fairly... innocuous, really. It could have been a biker's shop if it had helmets instead of masks, and less lube on the shelves.

"Hey," called a faintly accented voice from behind the counter, Price would guess Polish but Nik would get a better read. "Let me know if you need anything." She had enough metal in her mouth that kissing her would risk a stab wound, and Price found himself counting the studs when Nik cleared his throat.

"Da, thank you, we may need help with sizing."

She shrugged. "The best thing to do is try 'em on. There's a changing room round the corner," she jutted her thumb over her shoulder, "and two downstairs with the toys and bondage. Just no underwear, yeah?" With that, she turned back to untangling the pile of leather paraphernalia and hangers on the counter.

Nik seemed distracted by something on the far wall, so Price took the opportunity to examine the shelves behind the shop assistant. Aromas. A fair number of them, in fact. Price had seen a few of the lads holding them at the bar, but googling "aroma" and "disk cleaner" had yielded completely innocuous Amazon searches.

"You will not need those, solnyshko," Nik called, so Price continued to tentatively explore, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

His gaze wandered to a pile of flyers at the edge of the counter. "Boot blacking," Price murmured. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Da," Nik said softly, appearing at his shoulder with two harnesses in his hand. "It is a kink, but also good for repairing tired equipment."

"Fuckin 'ell, gettin' the troopers to buff their boots proper is like pullin' teeth, and these lot do it for jollies? Is he... Is he lickin' it?"

Nik chuckled and took the flyer out of Price's hand, stroking a finger over the bristles on Price's chin before twining their fingers together. "Perhaps if you put on a jock strap and licked their boots they might be more, hmm, proactive, no?"

"I'll run it by brass," Price said with a wry smirk, letting Nik pull him down the narrow staircase to the basement level.

His eyes blew wide once they'd adjusted to the dim lighting. Now that was what he had actually expected when Nik had said "fetish shop". The walls were crammed with an assortment of delightful looking torture devices from whips to gags to masks that covered everything but the mouth. There was a rack of staggeringly big silicone cocks, and Price felt the heat creeping back up his neck again at how bloody real some of them looked. And big. So fuckin' big.

He was so out of his bloody depth here.

The display case to the right of the stairs as they reached the bottom was filled with the weirdest collection of dildos he had ever seen in his life. He stooped down, hands on his knees, and peered inside. "Fuck me, that one's thicker than my thigh. Nik, there's no... Nik, come here. There's no way that fits. What the fuck is that meant to be?" He pressed his fingertip to the glass at what looked like a tentacle with little nodules all over it.

"John, here." Nik beckoned him over and Price sidled over to stand at his side, casting one final alarmed look into the display case. On the wall, there was an array of cuffs and collars, all with slightly different fastenings, studs and coloured linings. Nik took one of Price's hands and placed it on the nearest pair of cuffs, pressing against Price's back, his chin on his shoulder, palm on his belly to keep him close. "Choose."

"I thought we said just the harness..." Price murmured, but he could barely hear the words leave his own mouth, too fixated on the feel and smell of expensive leather. His toes curled in his boots as he pressed his fingers inside the circle of a cuff, slipping out the other side to nudge one of the metal links and stroke around the smooth edge of the buckle.

These weren't the laughably flimsy handcuffs Price had used previously in his, admittedly, limited sex life. The kind where the plastic broke through the cheap fur and cut your skin if you pulled too hard. Tokenisitic in their restraint. These were sturdy, unyielding; they would be completely unbreakable, even by a body like his. The thought of Nik securing Price's wrists to the headboard, working his hands down his body, made Price's damn prick twitch.

Nik nuzzled the side of his neck, bringing him back to the present, and he picked up a solid black pair like the ones he had seen on a man last night. They had a single silver loop each and a thick buckle. The leather was stiff, clean and unblemished, and Price flexed them a little in his palms. "Uh, these." His reward was a soft kiss just beneath his ear, and Nik reached a little higher to pluck the matching collar from the top row of hooks.

"Try them on, with your shirt off," Nik said. "I will wait here. Take your time." He placed the harness in Price's hands and nudged him towards the narrow changing cubicle. Price hesitated, glancing back up at the stairs and then into the shop proper. Nik placed a palm at the small of his back and pressed his nose to the side of Price's face. "It is fine. I will not allow anyone to see."

"Right, yeah..." Price ducked beneath a silk sash hanging from the railing as Nik nudged him forward. He figured if people were down here looking for a birch to take stripes out of them, seeing some battered old soldier in a leather harness wouldn't faze them too much. And that's what he told himself as he yanked the curtain across and shucked his shirt over his head.

The harness seemed to have more buckles than entirely necessary at first inspection, and he turned it over and over in his hands, checking the model on the label to work out how it should sit. It was sturdy, with silver studs and thick metal, and he felt that same throb of arousal as he handled it.

"John, is ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine, jus'... workin' it out."

In the end, Price pulled open one of the side buckles and ducked into it. The leather was chill on his skin and his nipples pulled tight as he sat the straps just above them. Once he'd fastened the buckle back in place, he glanced into the mirror through his eyebrows, hesitant.

The yellowing bruise on his ribs from the last op was beginning to fade, the scrapes all but healed into thin pink lines, and he had the usual litany of scars he was used to seeing by now.

He looked... good.

It sat well around his shoulders, framing the furred curves of his chest by sitting just above the line of his nipples, the silver d-ring between his tits. The straps beneath his arms sat just above his obliques, following the line of muscle comfortably.

Fuck, it made him look... made him look broad, strong, with his jeans belted at his narrow hips, his operation-ready athletic physique well-complemented, and he stood up a little straighter, jutting his chin. He'd expected to feel like a dog, maybe a bit demeaned, but when he flexed into the leather, heard the stiff straps creak a bit, he felt fuckin' powerful.

Next were the cuffs. He wrapped them around each wrist, turning them around until the silver rings sat on the top and the buckles beneath. The lining was slightly padded, lending to a snug fit.

"How does it feel?" Nik asked, close to the curtain.

"Yeah, s'nice. Like, uh, it fits well."

Price grabbed the collar and then pushed the curtain aside a bit, his eyes fixed on the floor as he felt the heat creeping up his neck again. He heard Nik's breath catch and then a soft curse whispered in awestruck Russian.

"Not bad, right?" Price asked, trying for cocksure but coming out shy.

Nik said nothing. He took the collar from Price's hand and wrapped it carefully around his neck, using his forefinger to stop the leather biting as he threaded the strap through. The moment it pulled tight enough for Price to feel it, he let out a soft gasp, his hands lifting to latch onto Nik's wrist, a sudden panic beating a little harder in his chest.

"Easy, solnyshko," Nik said gently, leaning in to kiss him. Price's grip relaxed, and he drew in a shaky breath. Nik took his hands. "Here, let me show you how it would feel with your wrists secure. If you feel unsafe, you must tell me, da?"

"Is... Is anyone down here?"

"Nyet. We are alone."

"Ye-yeah, right... Yeah." Price swallowed as Nik moved his arms behind his back, lifting each wrist until he could attach the cuffs to the d-ring at the back of the harness. When Nik was done, he stepped back, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the shop as he appraised the man before him.

"Krasivyy..." Nik said, reaching to lift Price's chin from where it was tilted down. John kept his head up as Nik's hands roamed his body, following the line of the leather straps over his clavicles to his upper chest, leaving goosebumps of pleasure in his wake.

Price watched Nik's eyes darken with desire and felt like the hottest piece of arse this side of the Thames; he flexed cheekily into the straps and Nik's lips twitched. The control in this wasn't so clear cut, was it? Price had assumed he'd be the one under the boot, but watching Nik's reaction made it clear he had more power than he'd assumed. Nik was enraptured, his arousal clear in the heated caress of his palms and fingers.

Price wanted to lean into his hands, arch like a damn cat. His stomach pulled tight as Nik stroked just above his nipples, following the line of the harness beneath his arms and making him flex and shiver. It was too much, too sensitive, and he let out a soft, strangled noise, squirming as heat gathered in his hips. He couldn't stop Nik from touching him, couldn't push his hands away, and that made his blood run south, hot and urgent. "Mm, Nik... Please... I..."

"You are... breath taking like this," Nik said, lifting a hand to hook the collar and draw Price to him. The experience of being drawn to Nik's chest like that, having to trust those strong arms would catch him, made Price groan softly. He buried his face into Nik's neck, arching only when Nik's hands swept down his back, gently stroking the burn scars at the base before dropping lower to squeeze his arse. "If I could, I would have you here."

"Fuck," Price breathed, grinding forward to feel the hard line of Nik's cock. "Guess we're buyin' this then..."

"Da, and one or two other things."

"Nik."

"Nothing sharp. Nothing to hurt you, John. I promise."

"You could never hurt me." Price had never been so certain of anything in his life.

Nik took the back of the harness and pulled Price away from him, lifting his chin so their eyes met. "This is important. So listen," Nik said. "Sometimes hurt is not physical pain in this. It can be feeling unsafe, it can be feeling too overwhelmed. I may push too far, and you must be honest with me."

Nik looked so serious and Price could only nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. Fuck, Nik cared about him so fuckin' much and it made Price's heart feel all kinds of warm. "So, what... We, uh, we need safe words and the like?" He flashed a lopsided grin and Nik kissed him on the forehead with a low chuckle.

"Da. We will discuss. Now, get dressed. I wish to get you back to the hotel."

"Yes, sir."

"John..."

"Sorry, couldn't help it."

"If you wish to call me sir in our bedroom, then I would not be opposed."

"Bet you fuckin' wouldn't..."

"I see you are going to be, what to say... a brat." Nik swatted Price's arse before he undid the cuffs from the back of the harness and drew the curtain across.

Price almost felt sad about taking the harness off, savouring the phantom sensation of it on his skin even when he pulled his t-shirt and coat back on. He lingered in the cubicle, squeezing his prick through his jeans with a grimace, and only re-emerged once it had calmed enough to be bloody discreet.

Nik was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He was holding a coil of rope, a leash and what looked to be an anal toy of some kind. "It is remote control," Nik said with a roguish little smirk when he saw Price looking, before jogging up the stairs.

"Bloody 'ell," Price breathed, following behind him.

Nik flashed the plastic and purchased the lot, despite Price fumbling through his coat for his wallet. "This is treat for me," Nik said when Price glared at him, plucking the opaque black bags from the counter.

"'M worried what I've unleashed here," Price replied once Nik had thanked the assistant and they were heading for the door.

"Ah, I believe it is I that have leashed you, no?"

"Ha-fucking-ha, corny bastard."

Nik grabbed John's hand and looked far too proud of himself, his smile so bright and handsome that Price's heart felt light. He didn't let go of Price's hand as they strolled back towards the station, and Price felt his heart swell as he glanced down at their intertwined fingers, his lower lip between his teeth.

Today was a day of firsts: his first visit to a bloody sex shop, and the first time in his life he had ever held a lover's hand, head up, chest out, as he walked down the street. When in London, eh?