#not even sure where this came from !

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Honestly surprised I haven't spoken about Han Jisung once on this blog. He's public enemy number 1 lmao (though Dino and Jungkook are close too).

Warnings (I should probably start including these): technically switch! Jisung x switch! Reader but, he subs here and reader doms, restraints (handcuffs), cockring, edging, very mild marking (finger nail scratches), fem reader and Jisung being a brat.

I will block you if you are minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. What were you to do with your favourite badly behaved boy? Even now, cuffed to the headboard of your shared bed, he smirks up at you as if he's in control. His messy hair sticks to his sweaty forehead rather attractively, completely ruined from when you'd gripped it to reprimand him or find leverage when you'd sat on his annoyingly handsome face. Face smeared with your release, you'd half-tempted to kiss him stupid but, he'd probably think you're reward him. Honestly, if his hands weren't cuffed you knew the brat would probably have his needy little hands all over you. You gaze falls to his leaking cock, twitching against his stomach. The only true indicator of what's really going on in your boyfriend's mind, as it lays there, a dark shade of red. His smirk falters when you ghost your finger tips along his length, unintentionally clenching at memories of how deliciously he fills you. "If you'd just listened to me earlier, you'd be cumming inside me until you couldn't move right about now," you say with mock sympathy, moving over to your bedside table to reach for something. Jisung whines at your words, cock jumping against his stomach. "I just wanted to touch you. Missed you," he mutters quietly, his defiance dissipating in an instant. Usually Jisung puts up more of a fight but, since you two haven't had the opportunity to have sex in what feels like centuries, he's probably more than ready to cum. Cute. Maybe he should've listened though. You finally pull back when you have just what you were looking for. Jisung's eyes widen and you can already hear the begging ready to burst on the tip of his tongue.

A cockring.

"N-no please. I'm sorry. I'll behave. I just want to cum please," pleads your boyfriend, pulling at his cuffs a little bit. You completely ignore him, feeling the weight of his cock in your hand for a moment before you secure the ring in place. The pitiful whines your boyfriend let's out go straight to your clit, fresh arousal smearing your inner thighs at the sight and sounds of your boyfriend. "You should have behaved, Jisungie" you sing-song, moving to straddle him. "I will. I promise. I'm sorry, I just wanna cum. Need it," he whines, moaning when you take him in your hand again and align him with your entrance. It's been a while so, you take your time easing onto him, finger nails leaving light red indents on his abdomen. You're just happy none of the other members are around to hear you two because the sounds you both make are borderline pornographic. A gasp flies from your lips when he finally bottoms out, taking a second to adjust to the intoxicating stretch. Jisung isn't fairing any better, tugging instantly at his cuffs now and marginally snapping his hips up to meet you. "S-still such a brat. Even when you're being punished," you manage to breathe out, meeting his desperate gaze. "Please I-" he starts but, chokes on a moan when you slowly begin to move. Reaching down with one hand, you cup his pretty face, nails biting into his enough. Nothing too painful, you two have discussed this at length but, just enough that your boyfriend knows to pay attention to what you have to say. "Like I said baby, you should've listened. Maybe I'll finally let you cum in an hour or three. Who knows," you drawl out, taking sick satisfaction in the way he pulses inside you and, his eyes widen.

[junoberrii]

Proud dad Nari ofc

[knuxadowyuri]

EVERY TIME THEIR SIMILARITIES ARE POINTED OUT I START LOSING IT. AAAAHHHHHHHH

[transmascutena]

the poor little meow meow-ifictation of saionji in this fandom has got to stop i can't take it any more

[zehl0w]

Zenitsu agatsuma has got to be the biggest egg I have ever seen in my entire life

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Aw! XL cooking reminded me of when I was working with children and they'd get nightmares/scared of monsters, so was go to the garden and make Monster Soup! Anything that looked good would go into the nearest source of water (often a bird bath) so that the monsters would know we are kind people and stay outside and not come inside. Also the monsters would think of us as friends and protect us instead of scaring us. Now I'm hoping that I have turned any of these kids into bad cooks bc I was like that flower looks good! Toss it in! 😅😄😄😄

Thank you for reminding me of this memory!

I'm-In-Love-With-The-Monster Soup.

[hijinxinprogress]

Civilian Gothamites realizing they can get vengeance through Sword!Robin

Gothamites figuring out if they happen to mention a rogue treating animals poorly within hearing range of sword!Robin that rogue will be in custody with at least four fractures and a concussion and Damian being completely aware that like 63% of these people are lying but it’s the only way he can get experience with the nonlethal takedowns he’s experimenting with bc everyone keeps complaining about how he treats his opponents and allies��

Like he’s guiding a civilian to safety and they mention that “this would be the worst thing to happen to me today if riddler didn’t stab my fucking cat” and this civilian does not own a cat but they did own a car that was just paid off but riddler fucking crushed it with a stupid ass hot air balloon that’s shaped like a fucking question mark and Damian is aware of this bc he was the one that verified the insurance claim (but he’s been looking for a reason to punch Nygma in the throat since his last Arkham escape when he called Damian a moron)

And he also knows that if he plays along with it and says ‘as if I’d let that gaudy and tactless imbecile get away with committing such atrocities’ when prompted that he’ll get away with barely a slap on the wrist like he gets three half hearted but long lectures he’s not going to listen to and an online sensitivity training seminar he goads Tim into completing (Damian and Tim 100% try to trick each other into doing work they don’t want to do and full heartedly believe the other has no idea what they’re doing)

Bruce’s tendency for finding small crashouts at risk of becoming future rogues in Gotham and deciding they need love & supervision but what actually happens bc he’s so fucking awkward is they get almost the same amount of supervision just with like an hour of intense helicopter parenting a week but honestly besides that they just have more money and resources to do fuck shit

Tim 🤝🏾 Damian: using the manipulation tactics they learned from their mothers then later improved on with help from an assassin cult and bat/cape interrogation questioning techniques on the homies

[raineandsky]

If you're taking requests, could I request a hero x villain thing where the villain wakes up in the hero's house, totally confused, and he tries to ambush her when she arrives with food? (She has telekinetic abilities, which helps with a lot. I imagine her house would look like the Burrow from Harry Potter - a bunch of things fixing themselves and all that.) But if you aren't taking requests, feel free to ignore this. I've got plenty of your lovely stuff to read. :)

im sorry this is so late!! thank you for the request, i enjoyed this one :)

When the villain finally regains consciousness, the first thing he notices is the scratchy blanket thrown over him. The second thing he notices, when he opens his eyes, is that the blanket is not his. Nor is the house he’s in.

It’s a world away from his home downtown—a low coffee table sits next to the little sofa he’s on, decorated with thick books that have clearly never been read and a blue vase that’s collecting more dust than flowers. The low afternoon sun streams in through wide windows and envelopes the table and chairs in the corner in a warm orange, the speckled colours of a light catcher draping over the woollen rug nearby. The villain wishes he lived in a place like this, but he’d never dream of being civilian enough to need it.

He has no recollection of getting here. Where was he last? Did he get entangled with a civilian somewhere? What the hell did he do to end up here?

The villain is so caught up in scraping his memory for a clue that he doesn’t hear the door squeaking open behind him. What he does hear is the gentle “oh, good, you’re—”

Now, panic is not a good look on a villain. But frankly, waking up in an unfamiliar home and being faced with a stranger that is approaching from behind gives the villain some instincts that’ve probably saved his life more than once.

He lurches up from the sofa with a snarl, earning a rather startled yelp from the newcomer and toppling the coffee table vase to the floor. The blanket he’d attempted to throw off in his attack has curled itself around him like a snake, and he gets no further than the back of the sofa before it trips him over.

“Oh, sorry!” the person says lightly. “That was a little more intense than I intended, but I suppose I wasn’t expecting you to leap at me either.”

The villain, trying not to let onto his embarrassment at this turn of events, glances up. A hero, one he kind of recognises, is holding a tray upside-down and looking back at him. No, actually, the tray isn’t upside-down. The villain is just on the floor.

“That won’t help you heal,” she continues with a short laugh. “Come on, lets get you back on the sofa.”

The villain goes to throw himself at her with nothing but his nails, but the blanket is wrapped around him unnaturally tight. The hero settles on the armchair opposite as it curls around his shoulders, hefting him to his feet before shoving him back onto the sofa.

“What the hell is going on?” is all the villain can think to say.

The hero smiles brightly, unbothered, and sets her tray on the coffee table between them before turning her attention to her shattered vase. “You were a little worse for wear by the time I got to you,” she offers unhelpfully. “Honestly, I was a little worried. You’ve been out for some time.”

The villain watches blankly as the vase picks itself up off the floor, hovering a few inches off the ground to meticulously piece itself back together. None of it would’ve clicked if he didn’t clock the hero staring at it like it’ll disappear the moment she looks away.

“You’re telekinetic,” he says flatly.

The hero turns back to him as the vase sets itself back on the coffee table. Its perfect presentation slips as the hero lets go of it, several pieces sliding out of formation and dropping to the table. “Maybe.”

She gives him a coy smile. The blanket still has a tight hold of him, keeping him sat on the much too comfortable sofa. The sun is moving, throwing some of her face into wild yellows that brighten her face more than a hero deserves. God, the villain hates all of this.

“You got a bad wound in your battle.” The hero gestures to her side vaguely. “You need time to recover, so I would suggest you stay here until you’re better.”

“I’d much rather be at home than trapped here with you,” the villain snaps.

“Oh.” The hero tilts her head in a way that the villain knows isn’t genuine. “Well, you shouldn’t move around too much. Do you have someone at home who can look after you?”

The bitter silence that follows brings another smug smile to her lips. “Then you’ll stay here,” she says after a moment. “My house will make sure of it.”

“Can you tell your house to lay off? Your blanket is trying to strangle me.”

The hero laughs brightly, and as she does the blanket’s vice-like grip loosens slightly. “I brought you some breakfast, by the way.” She gestures to the tray, which the villain now notices has a bowl of soup and several pieces of bread on it. “It’s proven difficult to feed someone that’s unconscious, so please do make sure you eat something.”

She gets to her feet before the villain can think of anything to dispute her. “I’m just going to clean up in the kitchen. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” She points to the tray. “I expect that to have gone down when I get back.”

With one last smile she turns on her heel and lets herself out.

The villain stares at the closed door for a moment before turning his gaze back to the steaming bowl in front of him. For god’s sake, it does smell good. He takes it in his lap, nabbing a piece of bread with him and dunking it into the soup.

The vase is slowly disintegrating, pieces dropping out of place every-so-often. The villain watches it like entertainment as he eats, but eventually it starts to get on his nerves. A quick scavenge of the hero’s drawers finds him a tiny tube of glue.

All of this is a pain in the ass. At least this gives him something to do with his hands.

[cinsketches]

You ever randomly get sad by realizing that the people on No Man’s Land are probably missing a lot of the human experience and how most of it is connected to earth?

They’re never going to know what rainstorms are like, or the smell that lingers in the grass after it’s over.

They’ll never know what it’s like to hear cicadas or frogs croaking near a lake at night.

Earth has so many colors, so many animals, and so much flora. Even though they have the geodomes, they’re merely a fraction of what the planet had to offer.

But they’ll never know.

[the-kaedageist]

The inn is small and plain, the tables worn from years of patrons and the weight of beer steins. Essek touches his fingertips to the wood and thinks about how far his life has come. “Why are we here?” he asks after a long moment. Caleb looks up from where he had been spacing out, presumably lost in old memories as he glances around the room.

“Oh, ja,” he says, catching himself. “This is where we first met. The Mighty Nein, I mean.”

Essek’s eyes widen. The room takes on new hues, a history he hasn’t been able to read from the furniture and the beer spilt in the corner. He can see the ghosts of younger versions of his friends, set lightly upon this space like a memory - Jester laughing and carving a dick into one of the tables, Beau and Fjord drinking from steins and ribbing one another. Caleb sitting with Veth, who presumably would have been Nott then. Yasha by the bar, perhaps, with the infamous Mollymauk. They had started off with only seven, not having any idea that someday they would be the nine of their strange moniker.

“Ah,” says Essek, not sure how to put all of these impressions into words, especially not in Common. “An auspicious beginning, I see.”

Caleb shares a small grin with him. Essek knows that smile; it usually forecasts some statement that Caleb knows will horrify Essek’s delicate sensibilities, looking forward to how Essek will react.

“Yes, what is it, Caleb Widogast?” Essek asks, trying to keep the answering smile from his own lips and already planning to act as affronted as possible.

“I was covered in mud and shit, you know,” Caleb says conversationally, a gleam in his eye. “When we first met. You would not have come within five feet of me.”

Essek has heard tales of dirty Caleb, and privately been amused at the thought. “I would have Prestidigitated you clean long before you came close enough to be a problem,” he says confidently.

Caleb laughs openly; it’s good to see him comfortable and safe enough to do so. “Perhaps I should fall in the mud and see how cool you would act around me now,” he says with a straight face. His eyes gleam with mischief.

“We shall see then, who is faster on the draw,” says Essek smugly. “My Prestidigitation, or your determination to get dirt upon me first.”

Caleb laughs again and moves to the bar to order them trosts, while Essek sits at the table and waits for the others to arrive. It seems fitting, that Caleb chose this place for their first monthly reunion since Uk’otoa had been vanquished. A new beginning, in a place where a beginning had been forged once before.

Caleb returns, carrying two trosts and wearing a thoughtful smile. “Wishing you had been here to join us from the start?”

Essek is rarely surprised at how well Caleb knows him, these days. This comment still throws him, putting words to a yearning that Essek hadn’t even begun to understand himself. “Had I been here from the start,” Essek says, “the story would have turned out very different.”

Caleb hums and clinks their glasses together, sipping from his trost with a hum. “True,” he acknowledges. “And in the end, you found us assholes anyway.”

The door flies open. Beauregard and Yasha make their way inside, Fjord and Jester hot on their heels. “What did we miss?” Beau demands.

“Hey Trostenwald,” Jester shouts. “We’re back!” She proceeds to cast Thaumaturgy and blow out all the windows in the inn. The innkeeper glares at her in a way that implies she’s not at all surprised by this occurrence.

As the room fills with the shouts and laughter of the Mighty Nein, Essek sits back with a smile.

Yes, indeed. In the end, Essek found them all anyway.

[ossidae-passeridae]

I'd be fascinated to hear more about gnosticism in tlt if you ever feel like writing about it.

I honestly don't know what's already been written r.e. gnosticism and TLT, so might be reinventing the wheel here, but I'll do a brief description of the overarching themes present throughout the books?

The uh, first layer of the gnosticism onion, as it were.

So to start this off I'm going to give a broad and at least partially incorrect overview of gnosticism:

Gnosticism is a tenth century mess that's loosely based off of Christianity, but then gets Weird. Thanks to some fun political situations in the Gulf, the Christians in the South were isolated from other Christians for decades thus spun off wildly from "mainstream" Christianity. We mostly have fragments left, and a lot of them contradict each other, so working out exactly what they believed/meant is Very Fun and also Somewhat Impossible. (Like the fragments of documents left in Canaan House, you could say...)

That being said, parts of their beliefs we do know better than others. They have the bible, of course, but on top of that they also have this pre-Bible creation myth regarding how God came to be in the first place.

It goes something like: In The Beginning there was a sort of primordial god-soup. This god-soup occasionally emits binary pairs of entities, also known as aeons and (later) twin flames. These binary pairs are two souls made for one another and with one another, and together they are balanced, and perfect, and full of Holy Light(tm). Each binary pair had one grammatically-masculine name, and one grammatically-feminine name. These names do not necessarily relate to perceived gender, and in fact the binary pairs are often referred to as if they are Beyond Gender Altogether. (*stares pointedly at the Lyctors*, *stares even more pointedly at Gideon's name*) [I could probably write a whole thing on this alone, honestly, they're sometimes referred to as like, the fingers on God's hand which, yeah.]

Anyway, in this pure and godly space, there is no matter, only Holy Light. But one of the entities, known as Sophia, goes off on her own and interacts with the shadowy chaos that exists outside of the godly soup. She's half of a whole, unbalanced. And through her meddling she (unintentionally) creates another half that's not pure and holy and full of godly light, but instead a dark reflection of what he Should Be. This is generally referred to as the Demiurge.

Unlike all these other beings, the Demiurge is made of matter. He is the first thing of matter to exist and he looks around the void that he's birthed into, bare aside from him, and concludes that he and he alone is God. (Hi Jod)

Then he makes earth, and heaven, and a bunch of other things besides, the things we know as the universe today. In the immortal words of Douglass Adams — this has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.

The problem is — all of these things that the Demiurge has created are made of matter. And being made of matter, they're cut off from the light of Godness (which is incorporeal and made of Pure Energy), thus inherently flawed. What's more, they're never meant to have existed in the first place. The Demiurge is tormented by his failure, but unable to create anything that is not inherently Wrong. (oh look it's the Nine Houses, I'd bet money that there's a link between being cut off from Godly Light and the Nine Houses being the only stable thanergenic planets here)

Sophia, who has watched these unintended consequences unfold and the suffering they've caused, cannot undo what's been done, but she can descend into the material world to share the light of wisdom and try to alleviate what suffering she can. So she does.

The story culminates with Christ being born and teaching all of humanity Gnosis — a special, mystical knowledge that can only come from the Divine, we are not really given specifics here — before he's sacrificed in order to make humanity's ascent beyond their material prison possible.

So that's the broad strokes of gnosticism as a religion, and also first layer of the TLT gnosticism onion. Just the really broad spectrum thematic *waves hands around* Stuff. I've refrained from speculating on the end because until Alecto comes out we really don't know.

If you want anything more specific anon, let me know?? I've been in the gnosticism soup for so long I can't always tell what's common knowledge and what isn't.

[belliesandburps]

Interactive - Favorite Burp Scenario

I need something to take my mind off the fact that we are home to the dumbest, most bigoted fucking assholes on this planet, and I feel like a lot of you probably feel the same way right now. So, how about another interactive game? Send me character requests via my askbox here and I will respond with my favorite burp scenario to imagine for them. (Note, ideally, keep it to characters I know or that you think I may know)

[weskie]

since wesker was in the military, that means he had to go through basic training to some degree which means that he did, at some point, have a whole ass buzz cut

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[fazedlight]

Hiding (Cat Grant musings)

The girl is hiding something.

It had been a frequent refrain in Cat’s mind, ever since Kiera’s interview. What kind of millennial goes around talking about how average and not-special they are? The girl was too smart to act braindead.

Was the girl a war criminal? Faked her death from some mafia and lived life under the radar? I mean, really, all this subterfuge, and for what? The girl didn’t seem to be trying to give an air of mystery, but Cat could smell a story. She was going to get to the bottom of this.

Then the new caped heroine arrived, and Cat kicked herself for not having seen it earlier. It had taken her an entire three days to figure out the identity of the second kryptonian. She supposed it could be forgiven - after all, Kiera was somehow younger than Clark Kent, and he had been an infant when his parents shipped him off to Earth and his planet died. The timeline was confusing, before her interview with Supergirl cleared that up.

The girl is hiding something.

Kiera had practically marched into the office when she declared “I want to be a reporter” with her entire chest. Which, obviously, Cat could spot talent when it was in front of her. But the bumbling superhero assistant had said that with such confidence. Where had that come from?

The girl is hiding something.

And then there had been this Mike, of the interns, that Kiera was dragging along. It was beyond Cat why Kiera thought that relationship was a good fit, from a man who only seemed to cause her aggravation at every turn. God, that trope was so tired and boring, perhaps some sort of indicator of a mental break. Technically Kiera was old enough for a midlife crisis... perhaps Cat could get a referral from her therapist…

“Two people I love are trapped on that ship, and if we destroy it…”

That’s when Cat realized, when the epiphany slammed into her. Yes, yes, Kiera was hiding her caped shenanigans, was hiding Mike’s identity, yadda yadda. But the biggest secret was what Kiera was hiding from herself. Cat wanted to shake the girl. A super and a Luthor? That would be a combination like the world had never seen.

Snapper was dealing with a lovesick puppy. No wonder he was so irritated.

Of course, reporter-hero aside, there were other things going in Cat’s life. Her role in the world felt increasingly narrow, increasingly restrictive, and she needed to see something new. A woman’s life and self-discovery doesn’t end at 30, as much as the media pretends otherwise. Besides, wasn’t there a time in every hero’s life when Gandalf needed to die so Luke could fight the Star War? Or whatever.

She was sure she’d be back. In the meantime, the world could see what Kiera - Kara - would become.