#crack things

[chrisodonline]

I don't know what Sam is even talking about. Callen would never wear a shirt like this.

[faeriekit]

"This fic was ai generated—" Cool, so lemme block you real quick

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Physically? I am sitting in my bedroom. Mentally? Spiritually? I AM DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!! THESE TWO HAVE KILLED ME!!!!

(Another drawing! This was originally attempt #1 at drawing stan, and then fiddleford just showed up. Kinda feels like them five minutes after the above acting like nothing happened though, so it works sdjkgkjfshj)

[strawberriesandmist]

Everyone from home says that you’re so cool, c’mon everybody to the boarding school

[koneko-chan]

𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 (sound of salt falling weakly to the table) hyah hyah hyah

[batsyheere]

"So, handling your archnemesis," Danny starts. The room falls quiet, heads slowly turning to look at the man as he writes the words on the chalkboard. When finished, the characters somehow both messy and neat at once, Danny places the chalk back down and claps his hands.

"I typically call them fruitloops. Often they're in a better position than you are- older, richer, more powerful. They may have some sort of status that protects them when facing the public."

Tim wondered where Dick was right now, and if he was laughing. His brain was lagging like a computer as he tried to process what Danny was saying, and how seriously a few of his fellow teen vigilantes were taking this.

"Some of their more common tactics are-" the chalk was picked back up, and Danny writes as he speaks.

"Manipulation, isolation, conditioning, and empathy."

MICE.

Tim stares at the board, and quietly slips put his phone.

-What have I done to deserve this.

Enjoy your lessons Tim-

His head thumps against the desk. Conner leans over, gives him a pat on the shoulder but returns to taking notes as Danny goes on to explain the conditioning tactic.

[shadowkira]

[imagination-phantom]

POV: You just got out of Stan’s car and you both are walking back up to the shack then you become distracted by the most distracting object imaginable. Stan’s ass in those white jeans. So you find yourself smiling an calling to him.

“Hey Stan … is that a mirror in your pocket because wow can I see myself in your pants.”

That joke was awful and he’s so proud.

[carlyraejepsans]

sans undertale would not make i fucked your wife jokes. people want to make jokes about sans fucking asgore's wife but sans the character would NOT do that r you kidding me. you can cut the secondhand embarrassment with a knife every time they're in the same room together, sans likes the guy, i bet he feels genuinely kinda bad for asgore. he'd be like sorry about the dating your ex wife thing. to be fair she's a really cool ex wife. and asgore would be like (rescue shelter dog sigh) She is.

[bi-writes]

can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)

greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."

you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.

you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.

you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."

you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.

he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.

he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.

he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.

ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.

yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[willgrahamscock]

I—

[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.

[xoxoladyaz]

Steve, who is born into a long line of shifters, but unlike the magnificent creatures his parents and grandparents before him became when they turned, he turns into an ordinary house cat.

Steve, who is an embarrassment to the Harrington name amongst the secretive society of shifters and so is essentially abandoned in Hawkins to fend for himself.

Steve, who is deeply ashamed that his shifting animal is a fucking cat until he meets a Demogorgon and then suddenly, being a cat - aka, the perfect bear trap bait - is the best animal he could have asked Magick to become.

Steve, who quickly becomes the Party's self-appointed emotional support person (cough cough, cat) and makes sure that he checks on his kids and is there to provide snuggles when needed.

Steve, who is really nervous about his kids starting high school - especially El and Will - and who sneaks his way into the school when he's not working and hides out in the drama room.

Steve, who is caught off guard when he bumps into Eddie Munson in his cat form, and then keeps bumping into Eddie Munson in his cat form, and pretty soon he can't keep pretending like it's not intentional but he likes listening to the guy when they're both hiding out in the drama room, and it doesn't hurt that he has excellent hands that give excellent tummy rubs -

Steve, who is present at the kids' first Hellfire Club meeting, and who is caught off guard by the disdain in Eddie Munson's voice when he talks about "King Steve."

Steve, who hops onto the game table, makes eye contact with Eddie Munson, and shoves his DM screen onto the floor with a loud crash.

Steve, who spends the rest of that session (and the next) on Jeff's lap, because Jeff's tummy rubs are pretty damn good and Jeff has only ever had nice things to say about Steve Harrington. (Take that, Eddie.)

(Eddie, who pouts the entire time and shows up at their third session with some catnip toys and an apology, even though he really doesn't understand why he has to apologize to this cat about Steve Harrington or why his new sheepies think this whole thing is hilarious.)

[angie-words]

Well I accidentally made an Aziraphale special today! Could this be because I identify so strongly with his autistic-coded (to me) ass? Who can say? Also, fic update: I actually got the first draft of my Human AU fic into beta! Now I just need to write the rest...

Previous meme dump!

Next meme dump!

[steddiealltheway]

Eddie: Steeeeeve

Steve *glancing up at him with a frown*: What?

Eddie *leaning as far across the counter into his space as he possibly can*: Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Steve:

Eddie:

Steve: Yes.

Eddie *doing a double take*: Wait, you love me?

[Later]

Robin: You realize that when you recall the first time you confessed your feelings for each other, this will be the story you have to tell everyone?

Steve: *long suffering sigh*