#gonna fucking explode

[foxyk7]

[amelia-yap]

BANZAI!!!

[ryartchus]

rolls eyes

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Team loserboy

[teddybeartoji]

toji sends you a pic of every stray cat he comes across whenever he's out and about because he knows you'd wanna see them too (he'll either simply send the picture or he'll add a text that just says 'cat')

[ewwww-what]

Nobody is as excited about the preview as I am. I have paragraphs.

[sunny4youu]

haha I think they're gay

[kermitbread]

hi. the new chapter has me feeling things

[faemytho]

"Dragon Lord" - Dark Cacao defeated Mystic Flour with the power of the dragons

"Immortal" - Golden Cheese defeated Burning Spice by obtaining immortality

"Compassionate" - Pure Vanilla defeated Shadow Milk...

[mrs-chonk]

everytime someone denies that Caitlyn is Asian an angel loses its wings PAINFULLY

gonna use that gun on one of u if I keep hearing these lies edit: sorry to come back just to bitch and moan abt this but IT FRUSTRATES ME, yall will see a character this is very obviously a certain ethi=nicity or poc and if they arent given a horrific stereotype of that ethnicity/race or it istn explicitly stated yall will ignore it or swap their ethnicity with something that fits better into a different stereotype?? like sevika, she is obviously indian but yall saw she was a mean masc lesbian so you took "mean" and "masculine" and said "ah yes, this MUST be a black woman" woah buddy, you're implying a lot there ... and just cause caitlyn and her family don't talk with intense broken English and wear fetishized versions or traditional asian attire, suddenly no one can see that she is obviously viet or thai (or some other south-east Asian country at least), she has a British accent and isn't fetishized for her asian-ness and suddenly we cant tell if shes asian or not ?? its weird

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[tenderyouth]

random zayne headcanons that i can't stop thinking about; pt. 2 / xxx

↠ roleplaying. it all starts innocently, with you calling him by his professional title at home. it’s not new for him, after all this is who he is - a well respected doctor who takes pride in his work. but there is something different in the way this word rolls off your tongue, something that doesn’t even get registered in his brain, but makes him feel a slight twitch in his heart.

“dr. zayne, are you tired? wanna go to bed early?” your simple question makes his chest all warm and fuzzy - you’re so precious and so good for him, and he wants to spend every minute with you doing everything and anything. 

“no, but you are. i can see your eyelids fluttering, and you’re yawning for the third time in the past 5 minutes. go to bed” he already knows his reply wouldn’t suffice you - you already wear a small frown on your beautiful face and zayne tries really hard to fight the urge to cover every inch of your skin with his lips. 

“doctor’s order. i will come too, give me a few minutes” and as soon as you leave the living room, zayne rubs his face with hands as if he’s trying to wake up, your intoxicating words are still lingering in his dizzy mind. 

after a while, he grows used to hearing you calling him by his title. he loves you and everything you do and say.

and actually, there are a lot of things he loves about you. one in particular is the way you moan his name when his fingers are moving in a devilish manner against your sweat covered skin, sending electrical shock through your entire body.

“dr. zayne, you feel so good!” your sweet voice sounds like music to him, especially when his name is adorned with your little sobs and chocked moans. he wants to do anything to hear you say it again and again. he needs you to feel all of his love, everything he has to offer laid bare in front of you to take and use. 

“tell me, angel, what is it that you want the most?” his palm cups your cheek as he’s watching you melt into his hand - feverish cheeks and slightly parted mouth letting out small sighs filled with nothing but pure pleasure, your clouded gaze makes him feel drunk; oh how he wants you all to himself, in every possible way, he needs you, he has to have you. his lips are a breath away from yours, slightly brushing your cupid’s bow when he begs you

“tell me, darling, and dr. zayne will take care of you.” 

and you wish you could forever engrave the look on his face when you tell him everything.

“i want you, all of you,” you look into his eyes, your palm covers his hand, gently moving his thumb over your lower lip. “i want your hands, and your mouth,” and you don’t even know if he can hear or understand what you’re saying, your voice is shaking with desire and lust; “i want you to fuck me, dr. zayne. deep and hard,” and ah, you just don’t get to finish the sentence as zayne’s lips find yours in a sloppy kiss, his mean fingers leaving galaxy colored kisses on your hips and thighs.

[rui-drawsbox]

in my heart, i can choose all the options

*ending scene

[starscreamingg]

Okay I'm so sleep deprived so pardon whatever this is but something that's got me FUCKED up about ai generated pictures songs writing is that it just fucking kills the ability to analyse for me because there's no fucking INTENTION behind it. Like why was this decision made why were these colours used what does that say about the work NOTHING because a bunch of programming took work that DID have intent and theme and purposeful choices and turned it into SLOP. Like I COULD analyse this but it doesn't MEAN anything it's EMPTY I want to EXPLODEEE

[mrmeepsmadmind]

i love when ppl draw bumblebee like the happy little creachure he is but also i love when people draw bumblebee like he's had 500 beers in the last 1 hour and still the pain won't even ebb

[alta1312]

bro thinks hes the gift lmao what a loser (i need him)