#look at you being i love with a dictator

[stop-ugly]

I finally watched the ballad of songbirds and snakes and I don't like it sending the message that being hot is an excuse for any crime 😕

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[humanmaybe]

The good news is after 4 years we will never have to hear about this ugly bitch ever again

[silverselfshippingchaos]

j.oongi is so fun because he gets introduced as this cold cool assassin type but really he's just a dork that has the goofiest chats

[starryeyed-seer]

Also!!!! I'd never seem this before but BAZAAR THOUGHTS.... aaaaaaaa

It sounds so tired. Sick of being a Courier. Wants a home.

he's lonely :(

I mean yeah. We been knew but. Poor sad crab

the bazaar.... (<- I think this often). Curled up under the blankets shivering... If you're cold they're cold: steal a city

I think this is the only mention of the sun being "cruel, furious, rejecting" about whatever the Bazaar's line-crossing was. I've long thought it was a confession of Love— naming feelings that can never be true, asking the sun for more than it can give. reciprocation.

the bazaar likes breaking into people's basements to steal their snacks: confirmed.

[deadtower]

(shaky thumbs up) (bo burnham voice) haha yeah… i am not feeling good

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Out of the grandmansters/egg bosses in the Archie comics, which one was your favorite?? It can be either from pre reboot or post reboot!

Hehehe unfortunately for you, anon, my fav becomes a grandmaster before the super genesis wave and therefore is my immediate first choice without contest

*Bangs fist on table* I love her so much

[snifferz]

no genuinely i fucking quit writing novels bc my english teacher always gave me a grade under everyone else bc the plotline was too complex or it was too much

my writing was decent AT LEAST like i poured my heart out into that shit and it was usually a form of allegory for something that i went through

shoutout to miss ayub /s

[kittyloops]

is there a reason that the only reason i'm looking forward to this hangout is for it to not exist anymore

[annmariethrush]

I love the concept that Viktor ends up with Jayce’s last name through some originally non-romantic means so much that I have multiple versions.

Jayce accidentally gives Viktor his last name by being so insistent on putting Viktor’s name first in every circumstance. When he’s listing their names on anything he puts them down as “Viktor and Jayce Talis”. When he introduces them to people he says “Nice to meet you, this is Viktor and I’m Jayce Talis” with a pause before Talis because he always forgets that he should say his house name too. Viktor slowly starts to notice that they’re referred to in the tabloids as “the Talises” and that higher ups at the academy will introduce him to investors as “Viktor Talis” without Jayce even being there.

When they first start working together, they put their initials next to things in their shared notes to mark when they have questions or agree with something the other wrote, or to differentiate when someone is dictating while the other talks. In an effort to not have it confused with a variable, Viktor initials VT (VikTor) as a bit of a joke to look similar to Jayce’s JT. However, one day when Heimerdinger is looking over their notes, he marks out a question in the margin for Viktor with “Viktor Talis” written out next to it in full. Viktor and Jayce debate for a moment after he leaves if it was supposed to mean it was for both of them, but the contents of the question makes it entirely clear that Heimerdinger things VT stands for Viktor Talis and has accepted that Viktor has adopted Jayce’s last name with no questions.

At the beginning of Hextech, as they are trying to get investors, Viktor regularly gets identified as being from the undercity and harassed for it by wealthy Pilties when he tells them his name is “just Viktor” when asked what house he is from. So one day Jayce suggests just telling investors that his last name is also Talis, thinking that people will assume they are brothers. Viktor gets flustered and tries to politely decline, but Jayce seems to confident that he lets it happen. It takes him weeks to figure out that Jayce doesn’t realize that everyone thinks they’ve gotten married or plan to. Viktor doesn’t have the heart to tell him and won’t let Mel break the illusion.

Jayce takes Viktor on a tour of the forge and when he gets done takes a hammer to jokingly knight him and dub him “officially part of house Talis” Jayce thinks nothing of it until the next time they meet someone new together when he almost spits out his drink hearing Viktor introduce himself as “Viktor Talis”

Some investor that they fucking hate can’t keep their names straight for some reason but always sees Jayce wearing his house sigil so he says “ah, Viktor Talis” every time he sees Jayce. They find it so fucking funny that even just saying “Viktor Talis” sends them into uncontrollable laughter.

Ximena refers to them exclusively as “my boys” to the point that most people who met her after Hextech was founded assume that she has two sons, Jayce Talis and Viktor Talis. She doesn’t feel the need to correct them as she does truly love them both as her children and is also quietly hoping one day Jayce will get his head out of his ass and ask Viktor out on a date.

[ghostsanctity]

Simon was used to being in control. In every aspect of his life and especially in the bedroom—he dictated the pace, the rules, and the limits. It was his way of ensuring everything remained steady, predictable, and safe. 

But tonight felt different, you didn’t outright ask for his submission, or try to command dominance; you merely offered something deeper, a trust he wasn’t sure he could surrender to—until now.

As you guided him gently, his body yielding under your touch, it was like unraveling a part of Simon he rarely let anyone see—a man willing to trust, willing to let go.

And for the first time, he didn’t fight it.

Simon's breath comes in ragged gasps as you ride him. His body is slick with sweat, the pink ribbons biting into his skin as he strains against the bonds, his cock twitching helplessly inside your pussy.

"Look at you, so pretty tied up in pink."

Your words send a shiver down his spine, and he feels himself teetering on the edge once again. His balls draw up tight, his cock throbbing urgently inside you. He's so close, so fucking close and he’s lost count of how many times he’s orgasmed so far tonight.

"Baby... please-" he begs, his voice breaking on a moan. "I need... I need..."

Simon can’t even think right now, doesn’t know what he’s begging for. He only knows that he's drowning in the feeling of you, the haze of pleasure you’re giving him. 

You continue to ride him, milking him for all he's worth as your inner walls clench around his cock. And with a hoarse cry, he comes undone, his orgasm crashing over him. His vision whites out, his body convulsing as he spills his cum deep inside you. And still, you don’t give him a moment's respite, wringing every last drop of pleasure from his spent form as you get off him, only to coax him back to life with your skilled fingers.

"One more, baby," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear. "Just one more for me."

He whimpers, his hips jerking weakly as you stroke him. He's so spent, so utterly drained, but the thought of denying you is unbearable. Slowly, reluctantly, his cock begins to harden once again in your grasp.

You shift position, lowering your mouth to the head of his cock. He gasps as your tongue swirls around the tip, lapping up the mingled fluids that coat his cock. Your hand pumps him in time with the movements of your mouth, stroking him firmly from base to tip, momentarily fondling his balls.

"God-" he groans, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. "You're gonna kill me- fuck -you know that?"

But even as he says it, he's desperately lifting his hips to thrust into your mouth. Eagerly chasing the pleasure that only you can give him. Your throat constricts around him as you take his cock deeper, and he feels his orgasm building once again, faster than he thought possible.

With a guttural moan, he comes undone, shooting ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow every bit of it, ensuring that not a single drop goes to waste, only releasing his cock once the last remnants of his orgasm fade. Simon’s chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath, he looks up at you, pleading, his expression almost vulnerable and in that instant you knew all his walls were down, all defenses stripped away.

His muscles flexed against the ribbons binding his wrists, aching to feel your soft skin beneath his fingertips. He wants nothing more than to pull you close and never let go.

"Please." he rasps, his voice husky and rough. "Can you untie me? Just wanna hold you-"

You lean over him, deft fingers working at untying the ribbons binding him. When they fall, he pushes himself up, his muscles aching a little.

He wraps his around you, body moulding to yours. Here with you, he feels complete in a way he never imagined possible, it feels like home. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he mutters against your skin, his lips caressing your pulse point. "I love you."

"I love you too." you whisper, holding him even closer as you run a hand through his hair.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© ghostsanctity → do not copy or translate any of my works

[captainsweet]

I'm confused how me writing some request somehow ended up with most of the cast being dictators, a literal war happening, literal slavery and tons of racism, and so many other sucky things. But then again, they did request it to be Steven Universe based, so... What else do you expect.

[ruins-of-gods]

Something that I think Warhammer 40,000 storytellers miss sometimes is the sheer scale of their setting. I mean, don't get me wrong - I love the big, dramatic clashes, the characters you can buy in mini form and their convoluted, interwoven lore, the dramatic combats against unstoppable foes across a thousand ruined worlds. But that's the top of the setting, as it were - the most powerful beings in the universe, all fighting for supremacy. And at ground level, the level of the ordinary person, are so many other stories.

Did you know that a Lunar-class void cruiser has a crew of 95,000? Nearly a hundred thousand people, aboard a spaceship five kilometers long. A city, flying through outer space to wage war. Many of those people are proper trained soldiers, fresh from some academy or veterans of long, grueling campaigns, and many more are pressed into service, begrudgingly laying their lives at their Emperor's feet. But, unless the ship is currently actively involved in a really bloody campaign, most of those people were born aboard that ship. Most of their parents were born aboard it. And their grandparents. And their great-grandparents. Lineages stretching back centuries, so far that the original soldier who came aboard has been forgotten. A lot of those people probably know, on some level, that they're aboard a ship flying through space - but a lot of them probably don't, and I guarantee you almost none of them understand what that means. This ship is their world. To look out the window means madness so often that they avoid it - not that windows are readily available anyway. Most of them probably barely even understand that they're fighting. All they know is that when the readouts on their analog instruments display like so, when they hurry to obey the blared orders through the klaxon, the Emperor is pleased with them. They were born into that world. When they were children they did smaller tasks the adults couldn't. Their entire existence was winding metal corridors, laid out according to some archaic design, any logic that might dictate their layout long since degraded after millennia of ignorant maintenance, lit only by emergency lights that have long since become the default. They learned how to read an angle readout or how to relay an order perfectly the way another child might learn history or math. When they grew up, their service was flawless, born of pride and ignorance, and when they grew old and died, their legacy was remembered until it was forgotten. Many were killed in battle, but who cares? They gave their lives to the Emperor - a name whose meaning they don't understand, but whose importance they believe in wholeheartedly, all but synonymous with the commanding officers up above.

Sometimes, the klaxons sound a specific command, and every person on board who understands what it means feels a deep, awful dread as they run to their battle stations. They don't know what a warp jump is. They don't understand they're going from one place to another by the fastest way available. All they know is that, for a time, the ship dips into hell. The corridors go wrong. Things and people might not be where or what they were before. Daemons stalk the halls, and must be killed by any who can hold a lasgun. The overcrowded berths, the little nooks that families find for themselves - they are not private anymore. They are not safe. Things drift through the shift that do not care about the laws of physics, but that delight in killing and torturing human beings. Vast energies shake the ship and tear parts of it away - their home, their world, their existence, the biggest thing they can imagine, assaulted by something bigger. Is it the Emperor's punishment for failure? Is this what battle is? What's going on? They don't know, and no one who does can be bothered to tell them. The dread of those who have seen this before is even worse, because they don't know how long it will be. It might be just a few hours. It might be days, or weeks, or months, or years, or decades. It might be centuries, as the captain of the ship goes hunting daemons deep in the warp - the officers live that long, after all, and have little care for those who don't. There will be people born in hell, who spend their entire lives fighting from the day they can stand, and who die in hell, as old age and need catch up to them and they curl up in a corner to perish. To them, it isn't even hell. It's just the world. The world is death and pain and cruelty, an infinite metal box through which monsters stalk, and sometimes you must run to a battle station and do as you're ordered to do. And sometimes, as they reach forty or fifty or even a ripe old sixty, the ship drops out of the Warp, and, for the final years of their life, they are granted a life of relatively safe service better than anything they ever hoped to dream of.

Those are the kinds of stories I want to see more of. Super-soldiers fighting each other is cool, yes, but I want to see this universe explored. I want stories from the perspective of those that keep the Imperium going, or the aeldar, or the tyranids, or anyone, really. There's just so much potential in this setting. It deserves it.

[cheetabites]

☆彡 cinnamon ˳༄꠶

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for dae-ho

sfw headcannons

★ this sweet boy truly struggles internally with how to act within society. the toxic masculinity his father had pushed on him had left him ashamed to truly express himself with others; he isn’t happy with how society wants men to act in such a superior and oppressive way, but is still sensitive to people catching eye of him acting in the opposite way (sensitive and compassionate)

★ he also didn’t receive any counseling or therapy after returning from the marines because he still held the internal belief that being vulnerable and expressing his difficulties wasn’t ‘manly’ enough

★ he’s the type of man that’ll help an old person cross the street, give his last dollar to a person at the register that was one dollar short, and would bring a jar of nuts to the park just incase he sees squirrels

★ he might’ve not received any professional help, but his mom and his older sisters were always there for him; when his father wasn’t around i’d like to picture them taking him out so they could play the games they played when they were younger - gonggi in particular because he liked to prove that ‘he still got it’

★ he’s the best pet owner ever. in some ways i can picture him having one pet that the whole family loves and spoils - yes, they wear the little sweaters when it’s cold and the boots when the pavement is hot - or a random ass pet he adores and the family is grossed out by. i can picture one of his friends gifting him a pet rat or turtle as a joke, but he takes it seriously (#1 dad) ; he vents to them sometimes

nsfw headcannons

★ sexual encounters is not a place where he’ll allow his fathers toxic masculinity to dictate his actions; he’s definitely a sub. when he’d found it out though, he was ashamed. particularly because it was when he was having sex with another partner - he was on top yes, but the ecstasy he was feeling at the time caused him to look down at them and beg for them to praise him (they did, and he cried in their neck afterwards)

★ he’s really sensitive, and i mean so sensitive that you could probably overstimulate him if you’d made him cum more than twice

★ he likes having his hair tugged; especially in situations where you brush your fingers through his hair first before gripping onto it so you can direct his gaze towards your own or when he’s giving you head

★ he enjoys the sex, yes. but he enjoys the aftercare more; having you wipe him down while you praise him for how good he was makes him feel so safe. he also seems like one who gets really sleepy after sex so i don’t think you’ll be able to make it to the bath. but when you do, he gets really shy and flustered

★ he loves seeing you wear the lingerie sets you’d bought while you were out. it gets him hard yes, but he mostly just admires how it enhances your beauty, so you’d never really had sex with them on. he does have a polaroid picture of you wearing a piece in his wallet and he protects that picture with his life - and i mean he’d lay flat on the train tracks if he’d ever lost it cause he cares about you too much :(

the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 3 2025.

[nemossis]

i love the fact that ur gender can evolve and grow into something never expected- that sometimes it's static and other times it's fluid depending on the person and the day

[naomi-main]

satoru sits completely flabbergasted when his wife who’s into astrology confesses to him on his birthday that she pursued him not for his looks, wealth, or being the brazen woman he thought you were from the beginning when you were very adamant on going on a date with him ‘till he eventually relented, but because you found out when he was born, did the research, and learned the stars and planets dictated you and him were the perfect cosmic match.

there weren’t many things one could say or do that could make a man like gojo satoru’s jaw drop in disbelief, but his wife was capable of such a feat simply every time she opened her mouth.

you tilt your head up at his silence, and upon glancing at the hilarious expression on his face, you smile. “it’s okay, though! it all worked out in the end and i fell in love with you like the universe had planned.” and how could he be mad at that?