#*shit answer

[angstitty]

“I asked chat gpt” “I asked google ai” well I pondered for a few hours and ended up with the absolute wrong answer. But now I’ve learned and I can grow as a person

[everwalldigan]

My favourite thing ever is when Jason is drawn to resemble Bruce because I KNOWW his ass would HATE it😭😭

Dick: hey Jason you haven’t forgotten our meet u— oh my god are you ok?? What happened?

Jason *rocking back and forth on the floor with a traumatised look in his eyes, whispering in horror* someone mistook me for Bruce in the grocery store today.

Random kid at a charity event pointing at Jason standing grumpily in a corner: who’s that?

Bruce (smiling fondly): that’s my son Jason!

Random kid: he looks like you! :D

Jason: *leaves the room*

Bruce (running after him): jason, Jason they didn’t mean anything by it, Jason, you’re going to jump off a balcony just because of a child’s observation Jason?

[goomyloid]

you will NEVER be them

[saltavenegar]

So who do YOU think did it 🤨⁉️

[underfell]

[rooniearts]

What did Silver and Espio's first interactions look like?

Your art is super expressive btw, absolutely gorgeous

Something like this!

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

pls pls heard me out...FIDDLESTAN! <3

ok, i got this ask ten days ago, and I've been thinking about it ever since. Because I got two other asks asking for fiddauthor, and I dON'T KNOW HOW TO LET THEM DOWN LIGHTLY BECAUSE I'M A FIDDLESTAN BITCH THROUGH AND THROUGH 😭😭😭😭 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!!!

Don't get me wrong, fiddauthor is great and makes sense and everything. But listen. Billford and fiddauthor are multidimensional ships, they are good! But FIDDLESTAN!?!? that shit is the WHAT-THE-HECK-A-HEDRON!!!!!!! Even though it's literally 100% speculation, the implications are FUCKING CRAZY!!!!!!!!! I jumped between three ships so far during this gravity falls thing, each time thinking one is better than the other. I've decided that FIDDLESTAN IS KING!!!!!! I'm sorry. I could rant about them forever. I've been listening to nothing but extended versions of disco music for the past week. (YES THEY HAD A CRAZY ROMANTIC FLING IN VEGAS NO I WILL NOT ELABORATE!!!! (yes i will. I will elaborate at some point. it will be like ten pages or text. or I will draw it. idk.))

Here is a sketchbook doodle from like a week ago. I'm gonna post another fiddlestan thing in a few moments, but my style changes like I'm a completely different artist every week without warning, so I'm gonna leave this by itself!

He comes into YOUR house, he steals YOUR identity, and he fucks YOUR research partner!!! Fuck you!!!!!!!!!!

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[savanir]

You shouldn't summon a Ghost King

Danny had felt the weird tug to the entirety of himself and instantly knew he was finally actually getting summoned for the first time. 

He'd winced through the whole process, knowing he should have listened to Clockwork and changed the requirements now that he was Ghost King... but even though Clockwork had seemed pretty serious about it, it just... kept slipping Danny's mind.  Listen, it's not that he didn't want to! executive dysfunction is a bitch alright, and it sounded like boring ghost paper work.

And it's been like... months now, maybe even a full year, maybe even longer. People don't really summon the Ghost King apparently, and Danny has been busy! He has school, he's trying really hard to get his grades back up. At some point he just completely forgot about it. 

He's really regretting not taking it as seriously as he probably should have now that he's randomly on top of a skyscraper in some massive city he doesn't recognise. And the city is... for a lack of better words, on fire. 

He can feel the suffering he can hear the screams, there is pain, chaos and fear all around him. Like a physical force pressing down on him.

The sickening part of it all is that he feels stronger than ever like someone injected him with 50 energy drinks directly into his veins but at the same time his stomach is recoiling violently, extreme jitters but not in a good way, absolutely nauseous. 

He's not really listening to whatever is going on directly around him on that roof, that's all far in the distance somehow, maybe he's disociating, maybe something else other ghost thing is going on, but Danny is just floating there in full king regalia. 

All he cares about it is snatching the weird creepy looking grimoire and getting some answers. 

And answers he gets because its very clearly stated in there that the Ghost King (Pariah Dark) wants a tribute to himself. Whomever deigns to summon him must prove willingness to his cause. Aka the whole conquering and genocide and tyranny thing. 

Over five hundred deaths would probably do but over a thousand was preferred, even more was obviously even better. That would show dedication and earn favour and- blah blah blah. 

Danny thinks he's going to throw up. 

It doesn't help that that's when the heroes show up and Danny is very clearly the big bad in this scenario even if it was completely unintentional.

Maybe they'll let him explain? Oh shit, that one looks so upset they're crying- maybe he can just go invisible instead...

This might be the worst night of his life. 

[shuastar]

hello idk if i should thank you or demand an apology for your post-concert hoshi smut (jk my life is ruined forever and i will thank u every day for it), but i would like to humbly request dk or mingyu smut (or both if you feel generous). mainly bc i would like my friends to have to feel as insane as i do and those are their biases :)

12:15 am: hawaiian nights

pairings: mingyu x f!reader x seungcheol warnings/genre: SMUT (porn without a single ounce of plot exccept for gyucheol's FUCKING HAWAII POSTS HOLY SHIT). threesome! cheol back tattoo....; breeding, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, possessiveness, voyeurism? (if u squint), p in v, cum play ish??? a/n: midnight thoughts combined with ovulation combined with rewatching gyucheol's go crazy video is not for the weak.... and i have realized that i don't fall under even the lowest lists of god's strongest's soldiers.... anyways um keep sending requests? hopefully this was a good delusional answer for anon....

--

The room smells like sweat and salt and sex, the air thick with heat even though the ocean breeze drifts lazily through the open balcony doors. You’re already slick and pulsing when Seungcheol lays back against the pillows, legs spread, tattooed back propped slightly against the headboard.

You crawl over him, thighs straddling his lap, chest to chest. His hands slide over your waist, reverent, already gripping like he can’t believe this is real.

“You sure?” he rasps, voice rough from restraint.

Behind you, Mingyu answers for you, breath hot at your ear. “She’s dripping. Don’t make her beg.”

You reach between your bodies and guide Cheol’s cock to your entrance, sinking down slowly — both of you groaning at the contact, at the unbearable stretch and heat. He’s thick, solid, his chest heaving beneath your palms as he tilts his head back, tattooed back muscles rolling against the pillows.

Your hands slide down his shoulders, nails lightly dragging across his skin.

“Harder,” he hisses, voice wrecked. “Scratch me.”

So you do — nails raking down the planes of his back, leaving faint red trails across the tree inked into his skin. He jerks beneath you, hips bucking up into yours.

“Fuck, just like that—”

And then Mingyu moves behind you, hands sliding through your hair, tilting your head back.

“Open up for me, baby.”

You part your lips just as Cheol thrusts up again, the dual sensation overwhelming — already being filled so completely while Mingyu presses his cock to your tongue, sliding in slowly, groaning when he hits the back of your throat.

You're helpless between them, body trembling, moaning around Mingyu as Seungcheol fills you deeper.

Cheol’s voice is wrecked. “Holy fuck, Gyu—she’s so tight—her cunt’s clenching like she’s about to—”

Mingyu lets out a dark laugh, hips stuttering as he gently thrusts into your throat, one hand fisting your hair, the other tracing down your spine.

“She loves it like this. Loves being used.” He lightly pats your cheek. "Don'cha baby?"

You moan around him, the vibration making his hips jerk.

Seungcheol grips your hips tight and thrusts up harder, your body jolting with each snap of his hips. Your nails dig deeper into his back, clawing at his tattoo, dragging moans from him with every scratch.

His eyes roll back as he groans, “Fuck—mark me—just like that.”

Mingyu pulls out just long enough to let you gasp for air, spit stringing between your lips and his cock.

“Look at her,” he growls, “so fucked out already.”

You can’t even answer — just whimpering, throat aching, soaked and pulsing from the overstimulation.

And then Mingyu slides in again, rougher now, his hips slapping against your cheek with every thrust. Seungcheol’s hands pull you tighter, his pace brutal now — chasing both your release and his.

You feel it build in you like a tidal wave — hot and thick and blinding. Your thighs quake around Cheol’s waist, and as Mingyu fucks your throat deeper, tears leak from the corners of your eyes.

You scream around him as you come — whole body seizing, cunt pulsing around Seungcheol so hard that he chokes on a curse, hips stuttering.

“Gonna fucking—god—”

He comes deep inside you with a groan, arms wrapped around your back, holding you tight like he never wants to let go.

Mingyu pulls out, breathing hard.

“My turn to fill her up.”

You collapse against Cheol’s chest, lips swollen, legs shaking — but when you look up at Mingyu through your lashes, tongue teasing at the mess on your chin—

You’re still trembling, sprawled across Seungcheol, his chest slick with sweat and marked up from your nails, his cock softening inside you but still twitching. He holds you gently now, palms running down your spine as if to soothe the fire he helped light.

And then — a shadow.

Mingyu pulls you up by the waist, off of Cheol’s lap, the stretch messy and wet and filthy as Cheol’s cum leaks out of you, dripping down your inner thighs.

“Gyu—” you gasp, dizzy.

He doesn't answer.

He just lays you flat on your back, grabs both your thighs, and pushes them up to your chest. His eyes are pitch black. His lips are slick with sweat and spit, and his cock is already pressing to your entrance, thick and flushed and leaking.

“You let him come inside you?” His voice is low, frayed at the edges.

You nod. Weakly. Shamelessly. “Wanted to. Wanted him to.”

His hands are shaking as they settle on your thighs.

“You wanted me to see it?”

“Yes,” you whisper, and something in him breaks.

He presses his thumb to your entrance, drags it through the sticky mix of your arousal and Cheol’s release. He watches it trail down your folds, watches you twitch beneath him.

“Fuck. You're still dripping.”

“You let him fill you up, baby?” he growls. “Let him fuck you raw before I even got my turn?”

You nod helplessly, wrecked.

He thrusts in deep — in one long, claiming motion — and you cry out, body arching. There’s barely any resistance left in you, but it’s still so much, your body clenching, still sensitive, still fluttering from Cheol.

Mingyu groans, low and broken. “So full already, fuck. I can feel him still inside you.”

Behind you, Seungcheol has shifted to sit back against the headboard, still breathless, watching. One hand draped lazily on his thigh — the other wrapped around his cock again, slowly stroking, eyes flicking between where you’re stretched around Mingyu and up to your face, watching every whimper spill from your lips.

“She looks so pretty when she’s getting bred,” Cheol murmurs, voice ragged, hand working his shaft. “Took us both so well, baby.”

A tight-lipped look thrown at Cheol that only you can see with a mutter of "don’t fucking call her baby."

Mingyu leans down, chest pressing to yours, his hips pounding now, deeper and rougher, his mouth hot at your ear. “You gonna let me fill you up too? You want it, don’t you? Want me leaking out of you just like him?”

You’re already crying, already clawing at his back, at the sheets, at anything that could ground you.

“Bet it’s still leaking out of you, huh?” he mutters. “And you’re just taking me on top of it? Letting me fuck you through it?”

You nod, choked and breathless.

“Want you to come inside me too, Gyu—please—" you choke on your words as you shudder and then moan desperately, nails clawing at his back. “Please, Gyu—wan’ it so bad.”

“Yeah?” he pants, sweat dripping onto your collarbone. “My baby wants both of us drippin’ out of her messy little cunt?”

Your walls flutter violently around him.

“Yes—yes, I need it—”

He kisses you, hard and messy, teeth dragging your bottom lip. Then he pulls back just enough to look at you, to see how far gone you are — mouth open, moaning on every thrust, eyes glassy and wet.

“Look at you,” he whispers, almost reverent. “Taking me so good. Letting me fuck you so deep. So full of us already and still begging.”

His thrusts go rougher. Sloppier. Your thighs start to tremble. The sound of your bodies meeting is filthy — wet and fast and desperate. Every drag of his cock inside you makes your breath stutter.

“You want me to fill you up too?” he rasps, voice breaking. “Want me to fuck you full ‘til you’re leaking both of us down your thighs?”

Cheol groans from above you, his hand pumping faster. “Fuck—breed her. Give it to her. Fill her up while she’s still stuffed with me.”

Mingyu’s growl is animalistic as he throws his head back. “Hyung, shut the fuck up.” 

You whimper at his words. 

He coos at you, leaning down again, eyes so opposite of the rhythm of his hips. “‘S okay, yeah, baby? Y’ like it when I breed your tight little pussy?” 

“Yes—god—Gyu—please—”

Your body is a livewire — raw and flushed and trembling. Every thrust from Mingyu sends heat lancing up your spine, sparks bursting behind your eyes. He’s still deep, buried to the hilt, fucking you like he’s losing his mind, like there’s nothing else outside the feeling of your cunt around him, the weight of Seungcheol’s release already inside you.

He’s so big, so deep, so full of possessive need that you swear you’re going to break apart on him.

“Gyu—please—fuck, I can’t—”

Your words dissolve into moans. Your thighs are shaking around his waist, and your nails claw down his back, searching for something to hold onto as the pressure builds.

“You can,” he grits through clenched teeth, thrusts stuttering. “You’re gonna come for me. You’re gonna let me breed you just like you let him.”

His voice goes ragged. “Wan’ to feel you come all over me while I fill you up, baby. Let me, let me—”

Your orgasm crashes through you like a wave shattering against the rocks — sudden, electric, obliterating. You scream his name as your body convulses beneath him, walls fluttering so violently around his cock that he chokes on a groan.

“Fuck—fuck—”

His hips slam into you one last time, and he freezes there, cock twitching as he cums deep inside you, flooding you, gasping your name like a prayer.

You feel every pulse of it. The heat. The stretch. The utter fullness of being stuffed with both of them now — used, loved, claimed.

And you barely register it, but above you, Seungcheol groans low — a ragged, helpless sound — as he finally tips over the edge too. “Shit—look at you two—fucking hell—”

You can’t see him from where you are, but you can feel it — the weight of his gaze on where Mingyu’s cock is buried inside you, the way his hand’s stroking furiously, thighs flexed, his cum spilling over his fist as he moans both your names.

And then, for a second—silence.

Just the sound of the ocean beyond the windows. Your breathing. Mingyu’s chest heaving.

He drops down on top of you with a heavy, satisfied groan, face burying into the crook of your neck. His full weight presses you into the mattress — skin hot, breath still uneven, his cock still buried inside you, softening but not leaving.

You let out a choked laugh, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, anchoring him.

“You okay?” you whisper into his sweat-damp hair.

He just mumbles, “Should be asking you that.”

You just kiss his cheek.

Seungcheol shifts somewhere beside you on the bed, still catching his breath. You feel his fingers gently tuck hair from your cheek.

“She looks so wrecked,” he murmurs, voice low with awe. “You did good, baby.”

Mingyu clicks his tongue lazily against your skin. “Don’t fuckin’ call her baby, hyung, she’s mine.”

[empty-dream]

Link Click Season 2 finale: LU GUANG DID WHAT??

Link Click Bridon Arc finale: LU GUANG DID WHAT??

[prlssprfctn]

The first time, Tim notices someone observing them from afar, it is when they are all settled for a brief dinner together. It is the middle of the week, and Bruce gathered all of them together to... relax. Which is strange but not unwelcome. Everyone is so involved in chattering and bantering that they don't notice a lingering gaze through the window; they don't, but Tim does.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out that it is Jason.

He is not sure if Bruce reached for him to invite, and Jason just declined, or there was no offer to begin with, but Tim knows for sure Jason lurkes behind windows for a few minutes before disappearing in the night.

And the funniest thing? Tim understands him.

He thinks he is not Jason's replacement — never truly was, despite what the other thought — but in a way, they did swap their places. Because in the past, it was Tim, who hid on the rooftops, staring at Bruce and his family, listening to the snippets of their conversations. And now it is Jason.

It is still different, of course. Tim had a choice, and it was his... enthusiastic project, if anything — Jason doesn't really. But if anyone understands the feeling of standing far away from everyone, it is still Tim.

That's why the next time in happens, Tim reaches out.

It is after the particularly easy mission, when Tim spots the red motion on the rooftop. He slips away from Nightwing and Robin, who debate about something with Batman through the comms, and finds himself standing behind Red Hood.

The way Red Hood taps his fingertips on the balustrade makes Tim remember that he is not included in their comms anymore. He wonders how lonely it is, to hear the voices of his brothers, but never being able to grasp the whole conversation they have.

'Hood,' he calls for him.

To Jason's credit, he doesn't scramble in panic, even if it seems that he is surprised by his appearance.

'Red,' he mutters back, instantly defensive. 'What, came to mock me?'

Tim rolls his eyes; he wishes things would be easier with Jason, but they are not, and he can't really blame him for that.

'Had I ever mocked you?' He copies his stance, arms folding in the chest. When Jason tilts his head, almost asking, "Really now?" Tim rolls his eyes again. 'Okay, I did a few times. But it mostly were jokes about your death.'

Jason chuckles.

'Good one, punk. It changes everything.'

'You like jokes about your death,' Tim protests. 'And I know you allow Arsenal to joke about it, so it is not entirely closed topic.'

'I don't remember allowing you to joke about it, though.'

...

This conversation is so fucking stupid. Tim didn't even came here for this, but-

But fine. He still can win.

'So, you only allow it to your friends. Fine. Let's be friends,' Jason chokes on his own exhausted sigh. 'Do you need some friendship questionnaires to fill to be my friend? I can arrange that.'

Jason kindly flips him off under his breath before disappearing in the night, leaving him alone with whining Nightwing and irritated Bruce in his ear.

The next time he stalks down Jason, who in turn is stalking Damian and Bruce, he shoves in his hand twenty three papers filled with bunch of friendship questions — half stripped from internet, half made by Tim that involve the specifics of their jobs.

He doesn't expect anything to come after it, but in two weeks after Jason returns to the city after his mission with Outlaws, Tim finds these papers filled with surprisingly neat, calligraphic answers.

And he gets the printed copy of the same questions, with one page of an additional one, written in the same handwriting, and with a little sticky note atop of it.

Your turn, Timbo.

Tim smirks.

Oh, he will so drag Jason back in the family, somehow.

[classjezter]

Not my usual content but I love Autobot Prowl and Decepticon Jazz/Meister and this audio fit them perfectly

[emistations]

Do you like me now?

(a vent doodle - i'm so upset with Amy's current direction & the message she sends to womanhood that being expressive is bad & you always have to censor yourself & be demure and mature. it's such a misogynistic "fix")

[librarydilf]

drift compatibility continues to be one of my favorite ways to analyze a relationship. yes this ship is good but could they pilot a jaeger together LET'S DISCUSS

[morganbritton132]

Fic where world famous band Corroded Coffin runs a contest to ‘find their number one fan.’ The winner gets an all expenses paid trip out to LA to spend the day with the band.

Steve enters the contest and he campaigns hard to win it.

He gets flown out to LA and the first thing he says upon meeting the band is, “Eddie Munson? You’re in this band? That’s crazy and - oh, I went to school with you, too. Jed, right?”

“Jeff.”

He snaps his fingers and shoots fingerguns at him, “That’s right. Long time, man.”

“Are you -“ Gareth starts and then stops, shooting Eddie a look. He looks like he’s about to explode so Gareth continues like, “Are you not our number one fan?”

“Oh, god no,” Steve says. “You guys sound terrible. No offense.”

“Then why,” Eddie finally speaks, sounding seconds from exploding, “Did. You. Enter. The. Contest???”

“Because i could win? It’s a popularity contest and I’m popular,” Steve explains. “And anyways, it’s for Dustin.”

They don’t know who that is.

“He’s graduating this year,” Steve continues. “And he likes you guys for some reason. You guys should play his prom.”

And, no.

Obviously they’re not going to do that. Is Steve crazy?

They finds out the answer to that question over the course of a day because they turn him down flat. Steve says it’s a breach of contract if they don’t spend the day with him so, “I guess I have twenty-four hours to change your mind.”

“Good luck with that.”