#crack I guess

[justnerdystuffs]

Okay SOOOOO

We've most of us seen the poetry with the black birds around this site, right???

Like. The 'The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math' ones etc..

Now. Matthew having been a modern person may have, within reason, seen these, right?

Now. Imagine him quoting these at random times.

Like. To dreams and nightmares. To Dream. Lucienne. They're amused, just a little. Because.

However, the first time he does it with Hob Gadling the man starts laughing so hard he cries. And Matthew caws along happily.

Meanwhile Dream is there like. 'Why yes, that is amusing. Not that amusing. Truly, you may cease your laughter at any time. Hob. Hob why are you CRYING. Matthew WHAT DID YOU DO'

[asamiontop]

The mark of an excellent engineer is predicting the unpredictable. Anticipating how a user might misuse or abuse a product before they’ve ever laid eyes on it. Preempt the mistakes and the fringe use cases and design them into insignificance with failsafes and redundancies.

Lena is, by all accounts and conferred degrees, an excellent engineer. She designed the anti-kryptonite suit to withstand, well, everything. It’s built to handle abuse ranging from unplanned space flight to close contact with a nuclear warhead.

Most engineers don’t exactly take into account how their product might inadvertently abuse them, however. And in that respect, Lena is no better than the rest.

She watches Supergirl peel off that technically perfect helmet, not a splash of sickly green on her golden skin, and Lena expects to feel triumphant. Proud. Accomplished.

Instead, she feels affronted. There’s no other way to describe the physically oppressive tightening in her chest when the hero shakes out her hay-colored hair, helmet in hand. The headpiece comes off, gorgeously windswept curls tumble out of it, and Lena gapes as her last remaining brain cell goes up in smoke.

It’s like a goddamned motion picture. Down to the way Lena’s jaw hinges open, slack and completely outside of her control. Blonde waves cascade over the armor Lena hand-built for those broad shoulders and all her insides collectively squeeze. A wayward strand catches on a passing breeze and alights on a delicately flushed cheek, framing Supergirl’s handsome jaw. Lena huffs—at this point it’s just offensive.

She’s bordering on furious with herself for not considering the obvious danger in her design (irritatingly perfect hair, an ill-advised sapphic crush, and a glorified motorcycle helmet do not a productive match make). Unintentional harm or distraction to anyone—wearer or not—is simply an unacceptable failure mode in battle. Of course her irritation isn’t enough to keep her from raking her eyes appreciatively over everything that her suit emphasizes on National City’s beloved Kryptonian.

Lena’s debating alternative head coverings in her mind—throat still dry, eyes still roving, fingertips still itching to learn how soft those golden waves truly are—when Supergirl glances her way. She smiles and it’s like the sun catches on all of her at once. Light glints off her suit (Lena’s suit, that she made for her), illuminates her hair, dances in her smile and suddenly Lena understands why people worship her as a god.

The super is radiant as she walks over. “Lena,” she breathes, tucking the helmet under one arm. Lena’s sheer disgust with this entire cliché is the only thing that keeps her from moaning outright at the way her name sounds from that mouth. “You saved me.” Supergirl’s blonde head ducks bashfully and—oh, she gets to be cute now too? How dare she. A chuckle rumbles through the crest that Lena placed on her chest. “Again. You saved me again.”

Crystal eyes lock on hers and Lena’s awareness of anything outside those deep, searching blue flees her entirely. Struck dumb, Lena holds Supergirl’s gaze, chin lifted, until the hero finds whatever she’s looking for.

An irresponsibly cocky smirk curls at the corner of Supergirl’s mouth. It pushes her a step closer and the proximity shoots a wave of instability through Lena’s knees.

“Is there any way I can repay you?” The super says, voice low. Lena wonders briefly if she’s been transported to the set of a low-budget porno. As if on cue, her brain fires off three filthy responses in rapid succession. This cannot be happening. She swallows hard to keep those thoughts sequestered in her head where they belong.

Possessed by some force greater than herself (perhaps Luthor composure, roaring through her veins from a family she normally loathes to emulate), Lena straightens. One of her eyebrows arches and Supergirl’s smile grows.

She bites the inside of her lip thoughtfully and watches in delight as the Kryptonian stands up a little taller, expectant.

“There’s no need, Supergirl,” Lena purrs, right on script, reaching out to swipe her thumb over a smudge on the suit’s chest plate. Keen eyes track the movement, so Lena allows her touch to linger. She retracts her hand slowly and meets the hero’s eyes once more. They are eager, focused entirely on her, and a shiver of satisfaction bolts through Lena at the attention.

With a heavy flutter of her lashes, she drops her voice. “But now that you mention it, I would love to get my hands on that suit of yours.” She pauses, allowing the implication to swell in the air. “I have several ideas…” she casts her gaze down the Kryptonian’s front and up again, “for improvements I’d like to make. If you’d allow me, of course.”

Supergirl’s eyebrows near her hairline as she stutters, “Y-yeah, totally,” her voice a whoosh. Then she shakes her head, sloughing off her apparent stupor, and her grin is back in full force—sexy and blinding at once. “Seeing as this is your creation, I’d say I’m all yours.”

She pierces Lena with that clear-eyed stare. “Actually. Are you free right now, Miss Luthor?”

Lena bites down a smirk and savors the goosebumps that tickle the back of her neck. She nods once, quick and to the point. Supergirl’s smile blooms across her face, replacing the self-assured swagger with such genuine delight that Lena is battered twice with attraction and endearment. She mirrors the hero’s expression and loops her arm around the elbow offered to her.

They turn to leave at a leisurely pace, ignoring the long-suffering voice of Agent Danvers yelling after them.

“Hey. Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?! Ka—Supergirl! That suit is DEO property! Hey! Hey! Don’t you walk away from me!”

Supergirl laughs, eyes never leaving Lena’s as an agitated “motherfucker” echoes in their wake.

[the-awakened-insomnis]

Seal fight for a necklace

I’m not saying we should've gotten a seal fight between Atreus & Heimdall, but we should've gotten a seal fight between Atreus & Heimdall. HEAR ME OUT PLS. In the OG myth Loki steals Freyas necklace under Odins orders and Freya gets Heimdall to get it back, in GOW it would happen in reverse.

Freya talks about this necklace she had but Odin still has it. She misses it but never says anything about going back for it. Atreus hears this, and promptly goes to steal it back from Odin. Surprisingly he gets away with it while everyone is sleeping. Of course, Odin eventually finds out and gets Heimdall to get it back, (it has no value to Odin he's just petty). Cue the funniest fight in the realms, they fight all the way to Vanaheim. Kratos n Co. see this mess, Thrudd and Skoljr are cheering for ‘Loki’ to win. Everyone is even MORE confused, eventually the two seals shift into people and what in Fayes name WHY ARE ATREUS AND HEIMDALL FIGHTING. 

The fight is scrappy, Atreus bit Heimdall at some point with enough force to break his arm. Sending his ass home wounded in more ways than 1 Thrudd bullying him all the way back home. Atreus gives Freya her necklace and promptly passes out cuz it’s been a long night and he's tired. Next morning, he explains the whole thing over breakfast, everyone is in disbelief except Brok who is a very proud uncle atm. Odin!Tyr is bitterly impressed and us wondering how Atreus snuck into Asgard so easily....[END]

dam I gotta get back into writing lol

[queenmeriadoc]

M(erry) and Merry meeting,

M: Wanna fuck?

Merry: No?

M: So you are considering it?

[floragators]

The chaos in this image of my main comfort characters

I made this image to show my first ever comfort characters meeting my current comfort characters but this just feels so funny out of context 😭😭

Yes my first two comfort characters were an angry bird side character whose only ever appeared one and a feminine enby robot made for child’s entertainment.

They were also my first kins lol. I always loved these two, they were my absolute favorite characters when I was a kid using the internet. If anything I saw them as my mother figures!! I still love them to this day <33

As for my current comfort characters, they also are my biggest top fictional crushes and even f/o. We got a angry bomb guy, a hot demon gf, and the only actual human who is literally obsessed with fear and is a criminal. My type is a melting pot like everything in my life.

I love to imagine that all my comfort characters genuinely care for me but not as much as my two first ones who saw me grow up and fixated on them when I was just a kid. I feel like Mangle would definitely be overprotective while Ruby just is a sweetheart.

This image can also be summarized as my moms meeting my partners.

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.

[glaciescustodia]

@stelliferousduo

Paimon vc: Why does this Paimon get to be tall and I don't huh!???

''The only thing you can tall order for is food'', Oooooooooo.

[randomfandomisuppose]

I just had a DPxDC crossover idea that I thought was funny.

What if every time John Constantine sold his soul he was basically agreeing to being “adopted” by the entity he was selling his soul to.

He thinks all of the entities he sold his soul to are leaving him alone because they’re too busy fighting/have a truce to not fight as long as none of them claim his soul, meanwhile he’s got like a dozen or so ghost/demon parents ready to go to court to fight for custody when he finally dies.

Danny, having been taken in as a ward by an older ghost since he technically counts as a baby ghost until he’s 100 or something, meets Constantine for the first time and is like: “Why are you 1/15th my brother?”

Bonus points if Danny is technically the big brother in ghost terms because he’s been a ghost the longest. Sure Constantine may be a little liminal but that doesn’t count he doesn’t even have a death day yet.

Like:

Danny (Certified little shit): “Baby brother why do you never come to dinner? :(”

Constantine, too sober for this: “The fuck did you just call me?”

Constantine vehemently denies any relation but they bicker like siblings.

[somerandomcockroach]

The first part of the fic "Mistakes on mistakes until" in a nutshell

[pesky--dust]

the "diagnosis" Chilton gave Will during his trial was the one closest to the truth ("Will Graham has never been diagnosed. He won't allow anyone to test him. He has carefully constructed a persona to hide his real nature from the world. He wears it so well, even Jack Crawford couldn't see past it. (...) There is not yet a name for whatever Will Graham is.")

unlike Alana Bloom or Jack Crawford, he saw what a manipulator Will was and that in front of them he played a poor, confused, wounded bird ("(...) A particularly-manipulative one at that. Poor, confused, wounded bird for Agent Crawford and Doctors Lecter and Bloom. And for me, well, I get the psychopath's triumvirate: charm, focus and ruthlessness. The charm, of course, being debateable.")

he believed Will that Hannibal may be the Chesapeake Ripper and said Jack Crawford: "Hannibal once served me tongue and made a joke about eating mine. It's hard not to at least consider it.". Jack ignored him. (I think Jack was already planning some large-scale action against Hannibal, but that's a topic for another post)

he called Dr Lecter "Hannibal the Cannibal"

he understood that Will Graham was alive because Hannibal Lecter liked him that way

criticized Jack for letting Will and Hannibal get closer to each other and then leaving Will alone ("You dangle Will Graham and now you cut bait. You are letting Hannibal have him hook, line and sinker.")

when Jack expressed hope that the relationship between Hannibal and Will was one of those friendships that ends after the disemboweling, Chilton told him: "I would argue, with these two, that's tantamount to flirtation. Will is going to lead you right to him." and let's be real, he was right.

[and-fishing-equipment]

wake up bestie new lestat and daniel as trixie & katya animatic just dropped, as promised 🕺🕺

(this took way longer than it should have because i was putting off drawing tiny lestat laughing for THREE DAYS)

[pt. 1]

[cosmicwhoreo]

Moon Pearl

hwat if BP finally reformed after years of grief and took her mum's place as the new embodiment of the Almighty Sea~?

But, be wise to not mistake this change of mind as passive. For she is as beautiful as she is volatile, sailors of all stripes being cautioned to offer tribute to the sea for the promise of a safe voyage.

[strawlessandbraless]

Oof right in the abandonment issues

[queenmeriadoc]

Merry floating in the void.

Merry: weeeee.

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[vampirefunkmetal]

i dont have anything to say about this.

original under cut