Apparently Supernatural was real, which was presumably why Gabriel was bleeding out onto Richard’s floor. (In which the actors of Supernatural find that reality is stranger and more disturbing than they previously believed, even counting Misha, and an injured archangel discovers that his universe is the subject of a TV show.)

A what if, of a what if... What if the Vongola Tenth Generation were to be raised by Uchiha Madara and Senju Tobirama? Well, for one thing they don't even bother with pretending to be nice people. For another, Madara is born into the Hibari family. Yes. Madara. Also yes. Those Hibari.

Sometimes, when a player is having relationship trouble of some kind, he wakes up in bed with a retired player who wore the same number. In theory, the retired player gives some advice.

“I’ll destroy a man for you,” he says breathlessly. Todoroki looks vaguely amused. “Good to know.” Midoriya passes the mug to Momo’s hands and then reaches up to put his hands on Todoroki’s cheeks so he can bring him down to eye-level. “No, listen. I will destroy a man for you.” Todoroki blinks at him, looking a little startled. “I have a seven year plan,” Midoriya elaborates terrifyingly. “O-kay?” he says throught his smushed cheeks. “Fuck Endeavor,” Midoriya says empathically. (Or: Midoriya has absolutely no filter when he's sleep deprived. That's it. That's the fic.)

"Timmers sucked me pregnant," Jason blurts, and Tim watches in morbid fascination as Bruce goes through the five stages of grief in a millisecond. "I thought you said you weren't… sleeping together," Bruce says reproachfully. "He means that I, uh, impregnated him with my teeth. When I drank his blood. No sex involved," Tim explains. "It was an accident. I didn't even know I could do that."

The news that Timothy Drake, Gotham’s cryptid millionaire, has shot the Joker dead during a public live-stream hits the world like a freight train—and that is just the opening salvo of his bugfuck plan. Maybe there exists, in the multiverse, a configuration of Jason Todd who will weather this with decorum, dignity and self-respect. This version of Jason Todd decides that the life of an academic is not, really, all that rewarding. In contrast, the life of Timothy Drake’s live-in house-husband is looking more appealing by the second.

Darcy thinks maybe her new intern is a slut. Like–a big one. Big ol’ slut. Both metaphorically and literally, since he's 6’3” of Kansas beefcake and maybe the literal only human being alive who has a build remotely comparable to Thor's. So like, a billion steroids or secretly an alien, Darcy’s assuming.