#crack challenge

[helloliriels]

Hi, sweetie! I think you said vids can be in the the Crack Fic collection, so I just submitted two.

Oh yes, oh yes!!!

2022 Year of the Crack Fic challenge, hereby accepting CrAcK in any form!

(And we get two?!!🍿🎬😀✨️💝)

Thank you so much for the suggestion! And for joining in!! 😄👌 Can hardly wait!! xoxo 💋

Let's fill some inboxes with laughter!

[frownyalfred]

a post patrol report on the Manor back steps, observed by Bruce Wayne:

Dick: yeah so I found Jason on my way back home from patrol—

Jason, who’s been chain smoking since Dick put him down: you didn’t find me. I flagged you down.

Dick: because you were in a trash can and couldn’t get out.

Jason: are you — oh my god, I’m too hungover for this shit.

Dick: you’re not hungover, you’re concussed.

Jason, blowing smoke everywhere: same thing

Dick: NO. not the same thing!

[mintghostko]

Empyrean!

Empyrean Weeping’s Leo was the first thing to cross my mind when I saw this prompt so of course I had to draw him (^^ゞ I just think the way empyrean is used in this au is really really (two reallys) cool  :)

Empyrean Weeping belongs to @cupcakeslushie and the original Rise August prompt list was made by @sariphantom :)

[nobleriver]

DOCTOR WHO | Forest of the Dead

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i would just liketo say i love the way you draw frank hes so sily

Thank You!

[incarnadin3]

Obey Me! Quotes from an incorrect quote generator pt.3

MC: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Lucifer? Lucifer: … No. Diavolo: I do! MC: I know, Diavolo. Diavolo: I’m sad! MC: I know, Diavolo.

Satan : Stubs their toe FUCK! Lucifer: Mind your language! Satan : What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”??? Lucifer: Satan : You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

Mammon : Whaddya call a fish with no eye? Lucifer, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Mammon : Mammon : fsh

Mammon : Change is inedible. Lucifer: Don't you mean inevitable? Mammon , spitting out coins: No, I did not.

Asmodeous: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Belphegor: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT.

MC: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. Mammon: What if it bites me and it dies!? Lucifer: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Mammon, learn to listen. Mammon: What if it bites itself and I die? Solomon: That’s voodoo. Luke: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Lucifer: That’s correlation, not causation. MC: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? Asmodeous: That’s kinky. Lucifer: Oh my God.

MC, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Lucifer: Hey. Diavolo: Hi. Barbatos: Hello. Solomon: Hey! MC: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Simeon: We were out of Doritos.

MC: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Belphegor: You mean literally or figuratively? MC: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify…

Beelzebub: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars. Belphegor: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

Solomon: How petty can you get? MC: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Vaggie: Charlie said we can have as many kids as I can carry.

*camera zooms out to show Vaggie carrying 8 giant kids on her back, hips, shoulders, and arms*

I took that as a challenge.

Bonus:

Charlie: *rushes in holding a blanket bundle* Oh, Vaggie~

Vaggie: Hm? Ack! *grabs the bundle between her teeth and eyes widen when she sees a baby doll wrapped in it* HUH?!?!?!

Kids: *all lean in to see the bundle and squeal with delight*

MAMA'S PREGNANT AGAIN!!!!

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

My hand is resting on Ash’s chest as we lie together in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is soothing and I’m grateful he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, that we can just be here together.

Slowly, I begin tracing my fingers lightly across his collarbone, then up his arm stretched over his head, and back again. He closes his eyes and smiles contentedly, so I continue, brushing my fingertips back across his chest and down his abdomen.

His skin is so soft and pale, it reminds me of the flowering dogwoods that would bloom in spring at the park near the house where I grew up. I read about them in school once and became fascinated by them. I would sit in the grass underneath them and run my fingers along the white petal-like blossoms, examining the tiny flowers at their center.

I make a mental note to tell Ash about them sometime. I bet he’d love them, want to study them and draw them.

The velvety texture of his skin is contrasted by a coarse trail of jet-black hair. I follow the trail down, stopping as my hand grazes past two small scars low on his belly, just inside his hips. “What are these from?” I ask.

He glances down briefly and then rests his head back, “They’re from a hysterectomy.”

“Oh. So, you can’t—?”

“Mm-mm, you can’t get me pregnant or anything.”

“Good to know. So, if you want kids one day, you’d just have to adopt?”

“Not necessarily. I had my eggs frozen, just in case. So, I could have a biological child, I’d just need a surrogate.”

“Really? Do you think you’ll do it? Have kids?”

“Oh, god, I don’t know. I had them stored for ten years, so I have plenty of time to decide. It’s not really something I’m worried about right now.”

“Makes sense,” I whisper as my hand resumes its journey, brushing my fingertips up and down one thigh and then the other before making my way back up again, all the way up to his face, turning it gently toward me. When he opens his eyes again, before I can stop myself, I say, “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”

His eyebrows stitch together in a pained expression, “Atlas…”

I know. I know it’s not fair. I can’t say things like that if we’re “just friends”. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s written all over his face. But look at us, we’ve already crossed so many lines tonight that the walls I’d built up are crumbling around me, and I’m not ready to put them back. Not yet. Not tonight. So, even if I shouldn’t, I have to ask, “Will you stay? Will you sleep here tonight?”

Putting his arms around me, he smiles, “Yeah, of course I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” I exhale, relieved. "Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?"

“Yes, actually, that would be amazing.”

“Okay, I’ll go get some.”

“Thanks. And, um, can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, it’s just out the door to your left.”

In the kitchen, I drink down a large glass of water in one breath, practically gasping by the time I finish it. As I refill it, along with a second glass for Ash, I turn my head slightly to smell myself… just in case. Thankfully, I don’t stink yet, but I’ve accumulated enough layers of sweat throughout the night that I’m certain I’ll be ripe by morning.

I glance at the bathroom door, debating, wondering if it’s a step too far, too intimate, but decide to ask him anyway.

When the door opens, I walk over to meet him on his way out.  I hand him the glass of water and he drinks it nearly as quickly as I did. “Thank you,” he says, breathless.

“Are you tired?” I ask.

“Not really, why?”

“Do you want to take a shower with me?”

“That shower?” he points to the door he just came out of, “Is there even enough room for two people?”

“Not really,” I shake my head with a smile, knowing it’s ridiculous, but still hoping he says yes.

He considers for a moment, searching my face as if he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m joking. When I don’t, he replies with a shrug, “Fuck it, sure.”

Some find it strange, but I enjoy showering with people. It’s intimate in its own way. I mean, aside from the obvious, like being naked in a small space not really meant for two people, placing hands on an arm or waist or back as we maneuver around each other. That has its own pleasures too, of course, but I like getting a glimpse into people’s routines, their daily habits. All those little things that no one else notices, or pays attention to, or has the privilege of witnessing. Like the way Ash never puts his face under the water. He tips his head back to rinse it, gets right up to the hairline, but no farther, ensuring gravity prevents the water from running down over his face.

When I ask him why, he says, “I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m drowning.” And then I understand. I remember the story he told me about nearly drowning in the ocean, how he was caught in the undertow when he was a child, how he would have died if it wasn’t for his mother.

We laugh as we awkwardly squeeze past each other, trading places so I can rinse my hair. As I stand under the water and close my eyes, I feel him place his hands gently on my abdomen, slowly tracing the lines of the muscle just below the surface with his fingertips. “Jesus, look at you,” he says, “maybe I should take up rock climbing.”

I let out a small laugh, “It’s fun. I could teach you.”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s for me. It’s a shame you ever have to put clothes on, though.”

“Not tonight, I don’t.” I shut off the water quickly and then turn back to him, “I won’t if you won’t.”

“Deal.” He answers a little too quickly, and then adds, “Not that I have anything to wear anyway.”

“I would’ve given you something if you wanted. Too late now, though.”

He laughs as I hop out to grab a couple of towels.

After drying off, I walk over to the sink and grab a fresh toothbrush from the cabinet below. It’s brand new and still in the package. I hold it up to show it to him and then set it on the counter, “If you want,” I say before grabbing my own toothbrush and running it under the water.

He picks it up and raises his eyebrows a me, “You do this often enough that you keep these on hand, huh?”

I shake my head to reassure him, “No, they’re Dawn’s. She’s super weird about brushing her teeth all the time. She’s almost always carrying one around. There’s like ten of them down there, she won’t care if you take one.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely as he opens the package and discards it in the trash. He squeezes toothpaste along the bristles, but then stops and looks up at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. You’re just… you’re really nice.” I can’t quite read the expression on his face when he says this, it’s almost as if the sentiment makes him sad.

In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I tell him, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s purely selfish.”

He gives me a small smile, “Oh yeah? My breath is that bad?”

“No, I just want you to be comfortable. Because the more comfortable you are, the longer you’ll stay.” Instinctually, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I don’t know why, it just felt natural to do so, like I’d done it a hundred times before. As soon as my lips graze his skin, I know that I have. I see it. Many times, in many different places I don’t recognize. On a couch or in a bed or even standing on a beach. It feels so real that it takes me aback.  I pull away and he looks up at me with that same look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, knowing now what’s making him sad. I’m not acting like a friend; I’m acting like a boyfriend. And we both know I can’t give him that. Though, I’m starting to have trouble remembering why. Seems like it’s taking more effort not to. “We should get some sleep,” I say, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replies, and then turns away to brush his teeth.

I put fresh glasses of water by the bed, turn off the lamp, and lie down, turning to face the wall because I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m facing him when he comes to bed. I don’t trust myself, and I feel like I’ve done enough damage already. He’s probably upset with me, and I wouldn’t blame him if he changed his mind and decided to leave.

I prepare myself for the worst when he finally comes in, but he surprises me by getting into bed, scooting over to me, and pressing his entire body against the length of mine. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me tight, kissing the back of my shoulder. I don’t know why he’s chosen to be so sweet to me, but I’m grateful for it. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax into him as I drift off to sleep.

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[fan-fricking-fiction]

Pit babe ft. textposts (5)

other Pit babe posts <3

[psykoe100]

Congrats on the loss boys. Love Wins <3

[marimeeko]

So far the happiest Izuku has looked after the war ....

You guessed it,

When he was in the hospital with Katsuki.

👀

[fizzytoo]

❄️ it's their first snow!

[schrano]

"Siffrin? Are you alright, bud?"

Fanart of Siffrin from @cinnamin-is-a-star's Villain Siffrin AU fanfiction To Extend Our Reach to the Stars Above Chapter 11.

[segretecose]

cinema is healing

[ivanttakethis]

I love that weird two-headed alien thing in Anakt Garden so much and especially that pic of ivan resting in its jaw. I know the picture isn't intended to be cute but when I see it I just think of when mother crocodiles scoop up their babies in their mouths to carry them. Ivan was that things little buddy

I do too! It’s one of my favorite pieces of official art. They just look so cute!! I love that you called Ivan the wagyein’s little buddy 🥹

You’re right about mother crocodiles, I never thought of it that way before. Maybe the wagyein saw Ivan as its baby? Or rather, something that needed its protection?

Another thing I love is how there are so many ways to interpret what the picture means.

Perhaps we’re meant to focus on the similarities between the two: red eyes, prominent teeth/tooth, obedient, monstrous (the wagyein literally and Ivan metaphorically).

Or it could be Ivan symbolically surrendering to the ugly parts of his inner self.

I like to think the picture shows an understanding between them.

They are both odd and somewhat solitary creatures, misunderstood by others. There are ugly parts in each of them that they can’t hide. But they find comfort in one another.

Ivan, resting in the wagyein’s mouth surrounded by all of its teeth, is extremely vulnerable; which we rarely if ever see him be at any other time in the series. The wagyein is also vulnerable to any attack beyond its teeth, throat, etc.

The fact that Ivan isn’t afraid of getting torn to shreds by the beast and the wagyein let Ivan so close suggests that there’s a level of mutual trust as well.

I wonder how Ivan felt when he gained the wagyein’s trust.

We know he struggled to connect with his classmates. Did he feel further ostracized when he had an easier time connecting to some sort of alien creature than other humans?

Did he see too many of his own features in the wagyein (red eyes, sharp teeth, and so on) to even think he was as human as the other children?

Maybe that’s where the idea of Ivan as a monster came from.

I firmly believe the similarities between the two were intentional.

[teecupangel]

‘What if desmond time travels and has to deal with such and such, or turns into an animal, or gets hurt, or-’

What if Desmond time travels and learns how to bake bread!! Huh!!? What about that!! What if he opens a super successful bakery, and solves all the worlds problems with the best fresh baked bread every!!

(This is /j but like. 👏🏻 anons let Desmond have peace challenge👏🏻 (but also don’t cause I love reading all of them I’m just like ‘how did you even come up with this? Sometimes lmao))

Anyway, since we already have a Desmond is a baker in Renaissance Italy idea, here’s Desmond is a baker during the Third Crusades instead:

So in this setup, Desmond would say fuck it and just open a bakery in Acre.

Jerusalem was too much of a hotspot at the moment and Acre had ports which meant there would be new customers that Desmond could lure in with the smell of freshly baked bread. 

And it worked.

Maybe a bit too well because…

Kadar visited while he was out looking for information for his brother’s current target. 

They both stared at one another for a moment and then Desmond just did his usual ‘Welcome! Are you looking for anything specific or would you like to hear today’s recommendations?’ spiel while Kadar just stares at him.

When Kadar went “Altaïr?”, Desmond just gave him his best bartender ‘I’m being respectful but also distant so you’ll still tip me’ smile as he goes, “I’m sorry, we don’t have a bread called ‘Altaïr’.”

Then he showed Kadar the star-shaped pull apart sweet bread he’s just perfected and go “But maybe I can interest you in this pull apart start bread? It’s sweet and fluffy and freshly baked.”

And sweet poor Kadar leaves the bakery with a basket of breads instead because Desmond was good at using both Ezio’s charms and his bartending social skills to get customers to buy more than they should.

Hey.

A man needed to profit to keep the roof over his head while trying to experiment for the upcoming debut of his sugar-free pastries.

The next day, Malik entered the bakery but Desmond was ready.

Desmond had planned for this!

“Welcome!” Desmond greeted, giving Malik his sweetest smile that he knew would completely unnerve Malik.

Desmond weaponized the similarity between him and Altaïr to unnerve Malik to the point that he cannot focus on observing Desmond, distracted by such a sweet smile that looked so disturbing in his eyes because he’s imagining Altaïr doing such an expression and it was horror beyond Malik’s wildest imagination. 

Okay.

Desmond was exaggerating but that got Malik to not ask too many invasive questions and leave the bakery after purchasing two baskets worth of bread so Desmond was going to consider that a mission successful.

And then…

His greatest adversary entered his little quaint bakery.

And Desmond was ready for him.

“Welcome!” Desmond greeted happily, “Are you looking for anything specific or would you like to see today’s recommendations?”

Altaïr simply stared at him.

But that didn’t matter.

Desmond held all the cards.

Because he knew one of Altaïr’s greatest weakness…

Altaïr secretly loved sweets.

“Today’s a special day!” Desmond clapped his hands in practiced joy that wasn’t over the top, “Today’s the debut of our dessert line! Here.”

Desmond took out a tray of sweet deserts, glistening in either honey or fruit jams. 

“Would you like a taste?” Desmond asked with the sweetness of the snake that tempted Eve to take a bite.

And Altaïr…

Altaïr left the bakery with a basket filled with desserts and pastries, quietly sinking into the shadows before anyone could see him and ask for one of the forbidden sweets he had acquired.