From snkkink. On the night of their graduation, the 104th recruits have a wild celebration and get drunk. Really drunk. None more drunk than Those Three. (And they are crazy drunks.) The last anyone sees of them, they are in full 3DMG and hurtling themselves off Wall Rose, screaming something about seeing the ocean. The next morning, the hangover is impressive, three graduates are missing, and a path of destruction leads away from Wall Rose. As for Armin, Eren and Mikasa, they wake up at the ocean. They're not sure how they got there, but getting back is one hell of an adventure. There may have been some cults founded. Armin might be an evil mastermind. And, hey, Eren can turn into a Titan. That might just be the least weird part.

After the final Seal is broken, Dean discovers that he's actually Lucifer. He's not really sure how he feels about that.

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.)

“Eternity is really rather boring, John. Mortal life seemed as though it would be far more interesting.” Sherlock is actually the Devil, but he decided to live as a mortal because ruling Hell was boring.

Naruto gets his hands on the key to his seal too early, and the yang and yin chakra of Kyuubi are freed. As in, now there are three Narutos.

“Oh my god, Obito, I don’t care that you keep turning our roommates into mindless zombies devoted to serving your will, but in the name of everything holy, at least stop putting them in thrall when you're singing Taylor Swift songs in the shower.”

Beneath the ice, dread things lie dreaming. Or listening to One Direction, whatever.

Justin Trudeau has just won the election. The two of you celebrate by having the most Canadian sex ever.

Contains Pail-Free Xenosexual Relationships Between a Male Mutant Troll and Male Human for the Purpose of Exhibitionistic Sexual Gratification, Polyquadranted Individuals Presented in a Neutral or Positive Way, and Puppets Used in Several Perverted Ways, One of Those Puppets Depicting a Rad as Fuck Big-Nosed Allusion to Our Glorious Empress, Which She in Her Wisdom Has Allowed to Keep Existing Because Damn Straig)(t I Got Da Biggest One.

For an anon prompt on my Tumblr that I kind of hijacked: gai/obito tho, kakashi's utterly terrified of the two ever coming together. "I've met Gai, Kakashi, and guess what? I'm going /to befriend him/." "You wouldn't DARE, Obito." "Oh, I would. We're going to be best friends." Obito and Gai hit it off instantly, and it all goes downhill from there. Kakashi finds them making out once and it's so horrible. He's never going to get that image out of his mind.

What do you get for the girl who already has everything and really doesn't want to marry you? A kidnapping, apparently. No, that doesn't actually make any sense, but as The Iron Bull is about to find out, Dorian Pavus and Livia Herathinos don't appear to actually consider themselves bound by the rules of common sense. Isabela just can't believe someone's actually paying her for this. Lucky!

It starts when he’s five, when his mother brings home a bag of fortune cookies and explains what the strips of paper inside them are for.

“Aw, come on,” says Anakin, glaring at the dice as if they’ve personally offended him. “You roll twenties for Ahsoka and not for me? I own you, you fuckers, the least you could do is do me a favor every once in a while.” or: Anakin Skywalker's terrible luck strikes again at the worst time.

“It was science,” Tobirama huffs, turning his glare on Madara. “You left your DNA all over me, Uchiha. I was hardly about to pass up the opportunity.” Obito debates clamping his hands over his ears and humming loudly. He did not need to know that in any shape or form, oh god.

Aka everyone is a superhero or a sidekick or a damsel in distress in true comic style. Includes terrible hero names, almost everyone wearing spandex (Sakumo why must you be sensible and break the mold you nerd), ridiculousness, secret identity fails, and all of my favorite crack pairings. I would be sorry, but that would require a sense of shame and I misplaced mine long ago.

“-my mother was not Lyanna fucking Stark!” Jon exclaimed, before turning and kicking, vehemently at the sofa, enough to leave brown dustmarks on the purple cloth. He turned back to her, lifting a finger threateningly. “I don’t care what you say. But our father would never- never- sleep with his sister, in fact I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because guess what, Sansa? You should already know that!” [Sansa tries to tell Jon who his mother is. Jon thinks he’s an incest-baby. Which........ isn’t wrong.]

The best revenge is living well. And maybe also spitefully staging a minor political coup to take over Konoha as payback for getting stuck in an arranged marriage.

MSNBC Breaking News: Heir to Stark Fortune Snubs Merger with Billionaire Walder Frey; Frey Retaliates with Vicious Attack on Twitter.

Fans of Proud Immortal Demon Way attempt to make sense of recent Twitter interactions between Peerless Cucumber and Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky. (siskyverse)

What's a guy to do when he's forced to go to his conservative, homophobic aunt and uncle's for Thanksgiving dinner? Why, invite along his ex-con, tattooed, argumentative roommate as his fake boyfriend, of course.

"You paid for the deluxe package," Neil says as he scrolls through his payment history to find his client's invoice. His system is simple: Basic Package: Fuck you. A general statement of displeasure and a brief description of the wrongdoing. Intermediate Package: Fuck you, with passion. Everything in the basic package, but with additional insults. Customizable for an extra fee. Deluxe Package: Fuck you to hell. Everything from the first two packages, for an extended period of time, and with extra viciousness. And it looks like Andrew Minyard is the unlucky soul today.

A group of amateur thieves kidnap a senator’s son to ransom him for money. The senator’s son doesn’t want to go back. * “Are these padded cuffs?” Neil asked, his voice raspy, his throat dry. He tugged on his wrists and winced when they chafed against his recent wounds from Lola. “They’re Nicky’s,” someone answered him—a woman. “Fox Seven! Use the code names!” “Sorry. I’ve never kidnapped someone and ransomed them for money before.” “I’ve been kidnapped?” Neil asked. “What did you think was happening?”

The maddening thing is: Jaskier is almost sure that Yennefer knows, except that he can’t be too sure that she does, except that all evidence points in that direction, except that outright asking her is completely out of the fucking question, except that whenever she talks to him lately she has that glint in her eyes that promises nothing good, except that - Yeah, except that he could ask, but he has a feeling that going to your best friend’s slash boss’s slash former-idol-of-his-teenage-years-that-he’s-had-more-than-a-crush-on-for-years girlfriend and ask her straight hey, by the way, I have a feeling that you know that I write fanfic about the two of you in my spare time and for that matter I’m actually good enough at it that I have a thousand Ao3 subscriptions, and everyone wonders how my characterization is this good is… not… really a good idea. Or: in which Jaskier, as Geralt's social media manager, has resuscitated the man's career and landed him a girlfriend, so what if he incidentally also writes RPF for the both of them on the side? That is, until they invite him to join them.

in which Tommen discovers a new favorite band, Tyrion pays Jaime a favor, Jaime gets to reconnect with at least one of his children, Brienne is a responsible adult who might want to act up on a few fantasies, Loras and Renly are pro enablers and everyone is down with some healthy dismissal of gender roles.

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.