#the rainbow gas got to them

[justmelaniaxd]

Psst, Billy Lopez didn't tell us that but inhaling rainbow gas canonically turns you gay over time actually

[xiaq]

I remember the first pride I ever attended: seventeen, half terrified, half bolstered by reckless bravery. In the parking lot, I painted my eyes in pink-purple-blue using the review mirror. On the walk to the parade route, I purchased a flag with cash and tied it around my neck like a cape.

I remember crawling up onto a metal electrical box on a street corner--violently hot against my bare skin in the Texas sun. I remember the heat didn't matter once the parade started, once I caught a handful of thrown beads, a crown, a fan. Someone passed me a bottle of bubbles and I blew them out over the crowd as not one, not two, but three church floats bedecked in crosses and rainbows marched past. I remember feeling like I could breathe for the first time maybe ever. But I also remember walking back to my car at the end. Giving away my crown, my fan, and my flag to two kids in a wagon, trying not to let my pathetic envy show as I met the eyes of their smiling parents. I cleaned the paint off my face in the same parking lot I applied it.

I kept the necklace--cheap and plastic and dangerous. I kept it for the first fifteen minutes of my drive until my anxiety demanded I pull into a gas station and throw it away.

I went to work: a four hour shift I'd said was eight. It was one of the few times I ever lied to my parents unless you counted the pervasive, quiet, lie of omission that lasted another decade.

Today, I got ready for another pride with my husband. I wore my denim vest with its collection of queer enamel pins. We walked together from our house to the parade route. At the end, we walked back together in a crowd of other pride-goers.

I texted my parents pictures without fear.

And this time, I took my beads home.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Physically Can’t not Smile

This is related to my Barely Human Marvel post from a while ago. In that post, Marvel is basically a being that looks human, acts like a human, but isn’t a human. (Of course, Billy is human, but his Captain Marvel form is basically a doll with flesh. I don’t think I even made him able to bleed) But, in this one, Marvel’s face is literally curved into a smile all the time because Billy’s last memories of his dad all consist of him smiling.

Imagine, Black Adam is beating his face in. He’s hitting the Champion as hard as he can, and they’re literally inside of a crater that was made from Teth hitting him so hard. He’s on top of Marvel and just hitting and hitting him over and over again, and during it all, he’s still smiling. The champions nose is bleeding, and one of his eyes is bloodshot. And yet, during all the punches he’s enduring he’s still smiling. He would be lying if he said it didn’t irritate him.

Then, there was Marvel’s first run in with the Joker. The clown had come after him after Billy met him while in Gotham.

//flashback//

Marvel: “Thanks, Batman. I don’t know how bad it would’ve been if that Joker guy got his hands on the Dream Stone.”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Believe me when I say I know. Now shoo.)

Marvel: “Okay, okay. I’ll get out of your hair.” *hovers off the ground and is about to leave when he does a double take* “Is that a mecha?”

Joker: *inside of giant robot Joker, looking down at them*

Batman: *sighs* “Yes. It’s a mecha.” *pulls out grappling hook and makes his way up there*

Marvel: “Huh.” *watches him go before flying away to the rock*

//flashback end//

The Joker now has a bunch of people held hostage in a little cage that’ll be filled with Joker Venom. As of yet, the Clown Prince of Crime is having a bit of a hard time deciding whether he likes or hates the fact that Marvel is still smiling in the face of many people screaming and begging for help. He decides he likes it though when Marvel tells him that he’s simply smiling because his face was made that way. Now, the reason he likes it is because he finds that hilarious because of his random ahh Joker reasons. He even burst out into laughter when Marvel told him that. He laughed harder when he found out Marvel took care of the problem by inhaling all the gas from their canisters so it couldn’t be expelled anywhere. Though, he was a little bummed to find out the gas doesn’t affect Marvel.

Speaking of the Joker, we gotta talk about Batman. At first, he thought that the whole smiling thing was just apart of his character as Captain Marvel. Then, when he met Marvel he realized it wasn’t like a role he was playing, no, he actually smiles and is positive all the time. Then, he realized, oh wait, never mind, his face is just like that. His personality on the other hand was actually sunshine and rainbows though. After about half a year of knowing the Captain though, Bruce thinks he has a pretty good read on him.

Normal big smile (normally showing teeth) = happy go lucky normal Marvel.

Normal small smile (sometimes not showing not as many teeth) = only comes out when he’s tired but seeing as Marvel, and Bruce quotes, “can’t get tired” it’s extremely rare.

Small closed smile = could be still happy, could be upset, could be annoyed. Bruce has seen it’s more associated with negative emotions though.

Wobblyish smile = definitely upset in some sort of way. It looks like he’s trying to frown but he can’t. Bruce suspects that he could frown at some point but can’t anymore for whatever reasons.

Then, there’s the time Mary nearly died and he pulled her aside to scold her. The JL decided to spy just in case anything got physical. They were then greeted to Marvel yelling. Like actually yelling. They’d never seen Cap yell. And not only that, but he was crying. While smiling. And he has one of those little wobbly smiles too. So everyone knows he’s actually really upset at this. Mary yelled back saying how he wasn’t her father and how he shouldn’t act like it. He told her he wasn’t trying to be her father. In response, he was told to stop acting like it. This caused the man to sigh and soon after the two left.

The other JL members with kids were sympathetic, but the next day Marvel was back to being himself. (Mary and him made up afterwords)

[zomb-rabbit]

Rabbit

Rabbit I'm begging you to do stalker headcanons with Mh or EMH guys (you don't gotta ofc! But w o ah)

🐟

AAAA IM SO HAPPY U LIKED THEM !!!! I WAS RLLY HAPPY W HOW THE TOBY ONES CAME OUT :)))) also,,,, watch me hit u w ALL the guys !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (nsfw can come later if u wish fishy, i skipped it cus this is alr a super long post BFJSJFNJS) (also i got to use my rainbow dividers i have saved up cus there's so many ppl YAYYYYYYY)

[📹⛓️‍💥🚬👁️☠️🐇]

Stalker!Brian Thomas / Hoodie / Tim Wright / Masky / Evan Myers / HABIT x gn!reader headcanons :)

Brian ;

ok we know Brian likes to record

so expect there to be at least one camera on you a majority of the time

sometimes he'll leave it in a tree or placed just right behind a fence post, zoomed in on your bedroom window so he can document you and your routine even when he's busy

he's so thoughtful 😸😸😸

definitely the type to perfectly curate a "meet-cute" for the both of you, writing down the coffee place you stop off at on mondays for a pick-me-up, the stores you go to that have your favorite brand of something, he calculates his every action with you long before it's happened.

he knows what he's doing is wrong, but unlike Toby, he's not exactly ashamed of it. if anything he likes the added excitement that you could still find him out

this is one of the times him and Hoodie kind of blur together a little bit, both in morals and actions

Brian is fully willing to do whatever it takes to keep eyes on you and to keep you under his thumb and his alone; it doesn't matter who gets in his way

Hoodie ;

also a big fan of recording, but tends to get much more risky with it

likes the feeling that you might catch a little camera that's nestled in between some trinkets and books or a pile of blankets you keep on your couch

he is a creepy creeper . he wants to watch EVERYTHING

gets his feelings hurt when you close your curtains cus you feel eyes on you (you're right, but still :(()

it takes a lot to deter him from doing everything in his power to keep watch over you

he's not even sure of his own motives, really. sure, he wants to keep you safe and make sure no one else is watching you, but most of the time he's just there to watch.

you're like a doll to him, something to entertain him.

Masky ;

this isn't even part of this i just wanna say the vibe for stalker Masky (and just him in general tbh) for me feels a lot like the intro to My Meds Aren't Working by Dystopia . very slow, calculating, stuck in your own head but still zeroed in on one thing

and it's you ofc !!!!

i think Masky is one of the more scarier guys to have stalking you on this lineup honestly. hot? yes absolutely. terrifying to see constantly out of the corner of your eye, sitting at the bus stop outside your job, standing in the parking lot of the gas station by your apartment complex and staring up into your window? YES VERY

he's haunting. he doesn't go up to you, will go completely brick wall at you if you try to come up to him, and you can never tell what emotion is going on behind his eyes. the few times you've walked closer to him, likely on the street in the earlier stages, he looked hungry. like he was waiting and watching for your guard to be down to do something.

if he knows you'll be out, he'll get into your house to steal some of your clothes- likely your underwear (creepy crawler) and a sleep shirt

you will never see him without the mask on. point blank. not to smoke, eat, anything. he is not human or himself when he's around you; he needs to absorb everything about you.

i don't think of him to be the type to film you, would rather be there in person 24/7. it feels more personal to him.

Tim ;

one of the few guys that feels guilt about what he's doing- he knows how scary it is to feel watched all the time. how awful it is to find out you were right.

he’s embarrassed of himself; he’s prided himself on being stoic and independent for so long that this sudden urge to love you and watch you and know you gives him waves of shame

watches from afar, would definitely try and avoid letting himself get too close to you in person. he’s ashamed of it, but he can’t help himself- he needs you, even if at a distance. 

steals clothes you’ve slept in so he can try and satiate his yearning to be close to you without actually needing to be so vulnerable, with you or anyone

his near dependency on you reminds me of It Will Come Back by Hozier, his obsession is fed by breadcrumbs from the few in-person up close encounters he’s had with you. smiles when he comes into where you work, nervous little waves when you catch him looking at you at the store, soft 'excuse me!'s when you pass by him

you drive him up a wall (lovingly)

Evan ;

Evan feels guilty, but for the ‘wrong’ reasons

i say ‘wrong’ because he’s more concerned with you inevitable introduction to the whole Habit mess, not with the morals of stalking and obsessing over you

despite his guilt, he can’t get enough of you. his persistence rivals Brian's; it’s almost immediate that he tries to get you with him

latches onto you for fear of you leaving- honestly less of a stalker and more on the obsessive side. not good at keeping his hands to himself. 

you might be one of the only cases where he tries to bargain and/or work with Habit, in an attempt to keep you safe or keep you near him out of desperation if you're not listening to him when he tries to convince you to stay with him essentially 25/8

touchy obsessive little critter . give him what he wants before he goes sicko mode (being 10 feet away from you at all times)

Habit ;

does not hide himself AT ALL

will actively be letting you know he's watching

seeing him behind you in mirrors, rabbit motifs everywhere, a random blood splatter in plain sight that no one else seems to see.

he watches, he knows, and he learns

what things make you the most paranoid, all the ways he can slowly introduce himself in a more. friendly light to get you to trust him. to love him.

he's what's best for you, whether you like it or not. it just might take some time for you to get there

ironically for him, think 'The Best Is Yet To Come' by Frank Sinatra. it's just a matter of time before things get so much better. for the both of you, of course!

[etherealevangeline]

Midnight Morgue—The Flower Shop

summary: reader finds simon in a flower shop—cute moment ig? If simon wasn’t being dickish lol.

notes: this story deals with explicit themes such as smut, gore, horror, alcoholism, mental health, delusions, surgical themes/terms. minors do not interact! just love the look of 2009 simon riley in this morgue AU. morgue may or may not be haunted :) ritualistic themes/cult like behavior. random sketchy ass town. Price is the supervisor. Mactavish & Garrick are small town police officers. slow burn simon x reader, enemies to lovers, simon has a huge chip on his shoulder. reader is questioning her belief in the spirit realm. feminine pronouns are used

The next hours are filled with dread as you wait. This morning you had a doctor's appointment—bloody blood work. You despised hospitals and doctors offices. The smell of antiseptic was enough to put you to sleep, considering their slow pace of calling peoples names.

But eventually you made it out in one piece. Your shift started at around 7pm, so what did you find yourself doing before it all? As you walked down the clammy, and rainy streets of Jim Thorpe, the windows were stained with fog. It concealed shadowed figures moving inside. Neon signs blinked pathetically out in the distance, blurred by the fog which left it hazy.

Nevertheless, you caught wind of gossip that a new flower shop opened recently. This one happened to be closer to the cemetery you visited, saving you gas money. You found yourself gravitating towards it, your usual frown decorating your face like rainbows.

You walked in, hearing the ominous jingle that provided no joy—just a reminder of your position in life. A tall hunky figure stood behind the wooden lattice counter, as pots of eucalyptus, vine-like, caressed the edges. It smelled of rose water and musky cologne, as your eyes shifted to him. His hands grappled carefully at the stem bundles he held, inspecting them.

He hissed and muttered something—-or what sounded like a curse, “Bloody hell.” He wiped his finger with a rag quickly that he grabbed off the side. He then shoved it into his back pocket of his motel jeans. It was a wash out style, and dark.

You’d recognized that voice. The thick Manchester accent resonated deep in your core, like a sinking weight.

You strode forward hastily on your wet boots that squelched, announcing your presence once more. He turned around to reveal a sharp set of features, his usual balaclava mask hiding his face. The light from the fogged windows revealed his eyes, and his nose bridge, highlighting the curve of his lids.

“I need a set of flowers.” You muttered.

“What kind?” He asked, although sounding indifferent.

“Don’ matter.” You murmured. Your finger tapped at the chipped wood to which his languid eyes glanced at, then up at your avoidant gaze. You appeared far away in thought, like something beckoned your attention. The pinch in your brow didn’t help to hide it either.

He didn’t comment on it, but turned away and got to work. Your eyes then darted over to his back. Maybe it was the sense of privacy you had when he turned, finally able to look. You couldn’t shake it, something was unnerving about his stare. All these military men and their stares were like punches to the gut. You figured he was ex military, since Price briefly hung up a picture unframed, on his desk.

If you remembered, there stood Price in the middle. He was clad in his khaki military pants, a hat covering his features slightly. Simon was to the left, hunky and geared up, holding his assault rifle, with no obvious smile. Just ominous eyes bleeding behind the mask. Mactavish was off to the right, daringly smirking, arms crossed. And Garrick, he held a service dog, grinning and crouched down in front of the team.

As his gruff calloused hands gathered some babies' breath, lilies and a few red roses, the wind outside howled demandingly. A sharp contrast top the delicacy of the flowers. It ached, almost resembling the sound of a pained cry to be held, to be nurtured.

You clutched your leather jacket closer, hoping he’d finish soon enough. The jacket was dark and distressed from years of use, taking on less of a shine and more of a matte look. It hung heavily on your shoulders like the weight of grief.

Meanwhile his ratted hoodie was rolled up at the sleeves, unzipped and revealing a dark undershirt, which hid his tattoos. The hood was pulled up, giving him an overbearing look despite the flowery essence of the shop. All bright and ditzy and yet he was all hunk, poison, and death met you in his stare.

“Why are you even working here?” You found yourself asking, amidst the silence, a brow cocking. This was the last place you expected Simon to be.

“I’ll be done with you soon.” His gruff reply came. You scoffed—actually grinning at the jackasses reply. Was it that hard to answer such a simple question? Somehow, it amused you, his nonchalant attitude.

Also, add pissy to the list.

“Just askin'. This is the last place I’d expect you to be.” You continued, eyeing his back as the hoodie stretched and pulled this way and that. He gathered a crinkling white plastic to wrap the flowers—large hands folding it neatly.

For a war criminal, he sure had patience with this.

“And this is the last place I’d expect you, f'someone who dips her hands in body cavities.” He returned, his bitter gaze meeting yours. It was hypocritical, how he deemed you as odd for showing up, when he himself, stained with blood of those long gone wrapped flowers. Maybe we had more in common, you thought.

Your eye then twitched, maybe it was the way you couldn’t get much of a read on him. What was lurking underneath those eyes, in his mind. What those fingers itched to really do—instead of sitting here wrapping pretty flowers all day long.

“Can’t a woman buy her flowers in peace?” You said. Yet you knew, there was no peace to be had. It came off as a bitter reply.

Simon silently taped the bouquet carefully and then raised the bundle. His eyes traced over the curve of the petals, the flowers. The way it fell, the way it was organized carefully. You watched, as his pale scarred hand came up to tilt the flower. He seemed pleased with his work, and then turned fully to hand you the bouquet.

If he wasn’t so pissy the sight would’ve been welcomed. But you snatched the bouquet and looked down at it, before slapping down the cash on the cold wood.

“Got a lad?” The Brit had the nerve to ask. Why was he concerned? You picked up on a slight condescending tone to it, as if he didn’t expect someone as raggly as you to have one. His eye twitched, as if the muscle were celebrating your annoyance.

God, I mean—

Besides your hair falling out the clumsy braid it was in, strands brushing your cheeks—the way your eyes were baggy with fatigue—

He wasn’t wrong. You shut off all kinds of intimacy eons ago. But him, something about him irked you and lit a flame of irritation. It was small yet, having room to grow and fan out. You weren’t sure if you should shut the windows and let the flame starve. Deprive it of oxygen.

It wasn’t an affectionate flame either. It wasn’t the kind to wax and wane, leaning in for a lover's caress.

It was the kind that would grow gnarly and burn everything in its path, driven to consume. Combusting. Touching skin and traveling up like a stiff line. You recognized it.

“None of your business.” You then simply stated and turned around, leaving. Time to shut the windows.

Simon tipped his chin up slightly at your form, as you opened the door and disappeared into the thick fog. He could see just a little of your form walking down the pavement from the window, flowers gripped tightly in one hand.

You were heading to the cemetery, he figured it was up that way.

When he counted the cash you’d given to him, the bills moving with ease in his larger hands, he noticed you left two dollars extra. He shrugged and took them. He grappled for his worn out leather wallet, thick with cards and wads of unnecessary singles sticking out. He placed your bills in there, cashing the rest in the register.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask why you left for the cemetery. Instead, he found it appealing to spin stories. Lord knows, maybe that was your only getaway to eat lunch with the dead. He bit back a sleazy grin behind the mask.

His eyes then floated up from the chipped wood, gliding to the hooks. His apron, unworn and unused, hung uselessly at the hook by the door. His eyes bore holes into the fabric as if willing it to burn. The Brit was often confused for not working there since he never wore it—to which the store manager rang his ears a few times about it.

But he never listened. One cigarette and the manager found himself shutting up about the damned apron. Easy.

“You’d ave to let me kill you if you wanted to see that.” Simon muttered roughly before pushing off the counter and fixing his next order from the POS.

—-

As evening rolled in, you found yourself sipping a cinnamon latte. Both MacTavish and Garrick brought in batches of coffees and donuts, to which you took gladly. Your appetite was a mess which needed your attention. But for now, you focused on sipping the warmth, as you held it with both hands.

Price was sitting across on a stool, his form hunched and biting into a powdery donut.

Both of you were in the break room, downstairs in the morgue when you spoke, sighing as the liquid washed down.

“Morgue life.”

Price glanced up as if not expecting you to have talked. The furrow of his brow eased and he relaxed his eyes, before dusting off his hands. “Got anything better to say?”

You felt an itch at your lips but concealed it by lifting the rim to your lips, where you sipped. Your eyes darted away from his shifting form, a hand curling around his knee, shoulders angled to gaze at you.

“Was it bad?” Cringe.

“What?” Price muttered, a slight cock of his head conveying confusion. “You gonna speak up, or gonna keep hiding behind your cup?”

You shifted in your spot. There it was. The way he did this. All of the time. The old crank just loved pointing out the obvious. You weren’t as stealthy as you thought you were around him.

You lowered the cup before straightening your shoulders, squaring them.

“The military.” You clarified, your voice clearer and bolder.

Price rubbed at his scruffy jaw with the hand that was free, glancing away for a moment. He then looked at you, admittedly a little too casually, a brow raised, as if he’d been down this course many times. His forearms were decorated with long scarring, jagged and rising upon the flesh.

“It’s over now. What’s it to you?” Price asked, jerking a chin at you. Your fingers curled around the cup to seek more warmth under his cold, prodding stare. It felt like ice chafing against your skin, rubbing and melting. That's what he did to you.

And you realized he knew a heck of a ton more than he let on. It intrigued you. What kind of military tactics did he learn?

“Realized I don’t know much about you.” You conceded, and then stood up from your own stool. Your scarf suddenly hooked onto the drawer from behind, threatening to strangle you. You made a noise of shock and confusion, your free hand flying up to your neck.

Suddenly, a rush of tobacco consumed your nose and nicotine. The smell of aftershave was faint. When you processed it all—Price had gotten up, and in a swift move yanked the piece out from the drawer. He towered over you.

“Watch your six, you might be the cause of your own death.” Price said dryly. You rubbed at the tightened fabric around your throat, eyes glancing behind you to the ajar drawer, the red scarf flowing down.

You then met his darkened eyes.

“MacTavish wouldn’t stop teasing your dead body.” He breathed out, the sir hitting your cheeks.

Your heart was pounding at your own clumsiness. Was it the coffee? The lack of sleep? So many things.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” You whispered, to which he seemed to find amusement in. His eyes crinkled, his resolve weakening slightly. Even so, there was still something unnerving about the way his instincts moved like a feather. You didn’t even register the sound of his footsteps towards you. You couldn’t imagine how efficient he must’ve been in the military.

“Get goin’. You’re working with Simon tonight.” Price ordered gruffly, stepping back on his old boots.

This time, you almost threw your latte into his face. But your resolve held on, and you glanced away.

You then responded curtly, “Thanks for the warning.”

Price watched—-slightly amused and questioning your reply as you hurried off. No doubt probably needing to cool off. He scoffed, shaking his head and rubbed at his nose bridge as if stressed by trying to figure you out.

“One day it’s the bloody drink rumor, the other it’s this.” He sighed, knowing he also had questions himself for you, before putting both your stools aside. He didn't really understand your sudden interest in him. He was an old, retired military man who cracked beers on the weekend. Alone. Staring at the cresting sunset.

The break room lights flickered to which he then looked up. His small eyes narrowed at the yellow, dingy light boxes, stained by years of dirt and grime.

“Damned wiring.”

Down the hallway in the morgue, you were met face to face with Simon. The Brit leaned on the empty metal table, burly arms crossed. Tired pale eyes dragged from your distressed boots, to your jean clad thighs, and then your scarf that hung limply from when price yanked it free. You cleared your throat, setting the cup down on the nearby shelf to unravel it.

“You’re late.”

“You’re not the first to have said that.” You quipped, then hung your scarf inside the closet. You heard the fellow footsteps of Price, and then Simon went about scrubbing his hands in the sink.

You joined beside his taller form, begrudgingly. Price opened the doors and he sighed, drawing on the chalkboard.

Simon spared you no look or glance, just focused on each of the thick jagged scars marring his flesh. It no longer hurt to touch, but the man knew each and every story of them all. His tattoos now showed as he rode up the dark undershirt, his hoodie hung on the hook beside your scarf.

“Where’d you get those done?” You quipped, brow cocking as you scrubbed your palms red. You needed a hair tie, because your hair was in the way and distracted you from leaning down. Every brush of the strands irritated you.

He was quiet, until he spoke.

“Must be a reason why the drinking rumors started.” Simon spoke roughly, low enough so you could hear. Over the agonizing pound of your heart, the way your breath froze, Price worked the board. Most likely drawing the human body.

“Good. So don’t ask questions.” He said after your stunned silence. You didn’t dare raise your head, eyes casted low as a frown pulled at your lips.

If it was possible you scrubbed harder as he walked behind you to grab some gloves. You could hear him snapping them on, as if nothing ensued. The snap even had your blood boiling. Festering like welts.

That flame was beginning to breathe again.

You avoided him until it was time to bring in the body. Simon angled the overhead lighting, as MacTavish rolled in, his hands on his vest whilst Garrick swiftly rolled the gurney to you both.

Price and Garrick lifted the body onto the table, whilst you stood aside. Simon looked over MacTavish with a nod of approval. a sense of familiarity.

“Unknown female. Found by a church, locals say they called it in after praying in the night. Priest was almost certain this was a sign from the Lord.” Garrick muttered.

“Ain’t that a wake up call.” Price grumbled from beside Simon.

MacTavish grinned, although less from what Price said and more so to you. His eyes strayed to your form as you hassled to tie your hair up, fingers working fast, head tipped low. You managed to get it in a ponytail.

“Aye, don’ stress it. Looked pretty down.” MacTavish just had to comment.

Before you could respond, Price cut in gruffly, “That’ll be.”

MacTavish winked at you and waved a little “bye bye,” at a certain Simon. Simon stared void of any emotion whatsoever, like he had gotten long used to the Scotsman's behavior.

You wondered how he didn’t at least bother to crack at him, the way he did with you.

That was because maybe a part of him trusted MacTavish. Which he didn’t with you.

Your stomach shriveled and you turned your head away, as Price unzipped the body. You felt similar to being homesick. Like you didn’t fit in. Too new. Shiny enough to stick out. And yet broken, the cracks in you dried up and became more of a wound that didn’t fully heal. It didn’t bleed anymore, as it was a drought.

“Assisting John Price, are two coroners Simon Riley, and…” He added your name as he spoke in the voice recorder. Contrary to the feeling you just had, you felt a twinge of belonging as he said it. It happened before. And now it keeps repeating.

Almost like, it became a sort of sappy moment in the goddamn morgue. You shoved it away harshly, biting at any sort of feeling to belong. You were perplexed by your inner monologue.

If I don’t want to fit in, why does it bother me to see he trusted MacTavish more?

And why did the mention of my name make me feel present?

As if Price—the way he so firmly said your name had you realizing you were alive. That you existed behind the foggy chaos of your life. That when he said it, when he affirmed it, you felt a part of life itself. Risen from the dead itself.

You were torn out your thoughts as Simon moved to begin inspecting the body. He leaned over, blonde lashes brushing the curve of his cheek, barely concealed by the mask he wore. The light made his skin translucent and angelic almost. You found yourself staring a bit too long, this time.

“Unidentified female. Long black hair. Caucasian, looks to be mid twenties.” Simon described efficiently, his thick Manchester accent rolling out smoothly. Price wrote on the board, arm jostling.

You found yourself intrigued by the way the words slipped confidently off his tongue like he’d done this a million times. What perplexed you was how his hands worked so patiently and tenderly in the flower shop, and now he handled a dead corpse. It only made you even compelled to unveil him. This part of you to figure him out, to eye him like a hawk. But you knew you’d get nowhere considering how private he was.

You stepped forward and looked at her limbs. You reached a gloved hand out to check her ankle joints, finding them broken. The skin was bruised and mottled. The area was severely swollen, puffing up. “Both ankles are broken like the last, Price.”

Price writes it down, circling the ankles. He cocked his brow at the observation, two in one week? He tapped the chalk, pondering.

Simons’ eyes glanced up at you, before flashing to Price, “Certainly can’t be good.” He muttered. The Brit wasn’t here for the last exam, but surely MacTavish must’ve filled him in.

You flexed her ankle, seeing as the rotation was hyperextending from the break. You trailed your eyes up to her hands which you noticed dirt under her fingernails.

Before you realized it—Simon already handed you a scraper and a petri dish.

You glanced at his pale void eyes, and then scraped the substance off. He watched you like a hawk, your smaller hands moving efficiently. His hands would probably drop the scraper easily.

“Found something. Looks like dried blood.” You said.

“Use the microscope.” Price spoke gruffly. He continued his writings, and Simon watched as you turned away to sit on the stool. Your form hunched over as you eyed the substance, in the microscope.

Meanwhile, Simon then busied himself with checking her irises. He leaned in, his gloved thumb holding the eyelid to reveal cloudy eyes. His brows set lower, deeply, as if trying to figure out who she was. What her story was. How she ended up here. And then, he thought he saw her eyes shift. Like a lizard. Flickering to him. His gloved hand withdrew, hovering, barely stroking her skin.

He remained largely where he stood, faltering in the slightest. He made no sound, just stared at her corpse as if he’d imagined it. She was completely still and lifeless.

“It's blood.” Your voice then cuts through the air. He exhaled, his chest lowering and then flickered his eyes to you before rounding the table, closing the distance.

Awkwardly, and suddenly you’re shoved to the side as his torso looks close to your face. He leaned down, looking into the microscope to see what you saw, a hand gripping the base. You scowled up at him as the Brit knew no personal space.

“She must’ve fought it off her captor.” Price muttered, then glanced at you two. “Back it up.” He spoke as if you were a mutt that needed training. You didn’t like it.

“I was just doing my work.” You muttered and rolled your eyes at Simon. He moved away and crossed his arms, staring down at your sitting form like you were an insect to behold.

You didn’t like it one bit. You turned your cheek away over to Price, seeing what he’d written down. “That means there was a struggle involved.” You figured.

“Clearly.” Simon added, behind you like a sound board. Except he wasn’t exactly helping you. You bristled and kept your eyes trained on the chalkboard.

“Were her wrists broken as well?”

“Yes.” Simon spoke. He moved away to your thankfulness, and looked once again over the table. Surely enough, her wrists also had signs of bruising and swelling.

“Same M.O.” Price sighed, recalling the last male victim.

You got up from the stool and walked over to Price. “If it fits the M.O as last, this could be a serial killer.” Your voice was low, in a hushed tone. Simon watched on the interaction from behind, thumb stroking the edge of the table with a sense of distrust radiating off of him.

“Surely enough.” Price then responded, eyes darkening with something unbridled. It was an intense need to figure it out, like a missing puzzle piece. His hand stroked his scruffy jaw before sending his eyes over to Simon.

“Proceed with the internal examination.”

You joined along—more than happy to assist. But now you were beginning to feel like the lap puppy beside him rather than an efficient practitioner. You disliked it.

It only brought up feelings of being constricted. Cast away like a chore being ticked off the list for the evening.

Simon's hands worked deftly to make the Y-shaped cut. Soon enough the ribs were exposed, decaying organs laying underneath. Your eyes assessed the damage.

“No hole in the heart.” You said, brows furrowed.

“Odd.” Price sighed through his nose and then strode to assess the two of you. He was even more perplexed by the lack of the corkscrew hole missing.

Simon lowered his scalpel onto the metal tray on the cart beside his hip. His gloves flexed.

You watched the body cavity, eyes flitting around. You then leaned away to look at Price, “I’ll have that blood analyzed by the lab.”

“Do it now.” Price ordered firmly, eyes cutting into yours. He needed to figure this out. The look in his eyes told you enough.

You wasted no time in stripping your gloves, throwing them in the can, and then grabbing the sample. You were glad to be out the room filled with too much testosterone. Simon began working the rib cutters as you left out the two metal doors.

The lights flickered above as you approached the broken and small elevator shaft. The smell of cigarettes met your nostrils, and you tilted your head this way and that. The cold, white and depressing floors of the morgue disappeared as the doors shut.

Suddenly it was just you and your thoughts—holding the sample. No elevator music. Then your mind wandered. You wondered what kind of music both of them would listen to.

You could predict Price having an 80s Latin pop music playlist. Ana Gabriel thrown in there, along with some 90s throwbacks. The usual Whitney Houston, Creed, and some Pearl Jam. It fit his divorced dad persona. You had to stifle a scoff at the crude thought. You tilted your head up, hearing the cogs slowly work in the elevator going up. If he knew you had this thought he’d probably do more than just free your scarf—No, he’d find a way to choke you.

And Simon? You never really thought of that one. You wouldn’t know. If you had to take a stab at it, probably Metallica, Iron Maiden, and of course you threw in a sappy song, Take My Breath Away.

You could imagine his eyes peering around, wired headphones plugged in. In the flower shop he would work on cutting the stems carefully, back facing you. Lights from above were cold and gray as it flickered. His pocket was hefty from his phone, wires tangled carelessly by his masked jaw. The headphones fit snug underneath. And he’d listen to Berlin, her silky voice as his rugged features seemed captivated by the petals. How the red petals graced his scarred, pale form. Like blood cascading in rivulets, soft and inviting.

Maybe Top Gun would be his favorite movie, you sarcastically thought. He’d probably think Tom Cruise an idiot, or found him to be a die hard with a raging hard on, eager to prove something.

Just a thought. A handful of thoughts. You snapped out of it when the doors opened but this time, the doors opened to a warmly lit floor. Soft music of a record played, almost jazz like despite the crude, and surgical environment. The moment bursted like bokeh’s, fluttering and glittering. Some nurses walked about, humming. Some pushed carts. Some checked their lists off.

“Hello, where is the lab, please?” You asked quietly to the woman ahead. She appears soft, almost with a trusting look. Her brows are higher set, giving her a wide eyed appearance, and lips smeared with pink gloss. She smiled tightly, pointing her pen down the converging hallway of music.

“That’ll be it.” She said, and it went well with her looks. You felt odd, like a wolf in sheeps clothing here. Everyone appeared too nice. What an odd contrast to your dark, null and devoid personality.

Your ears caught on, head moving to the source of music. It came from the ends of the hallways which converged, but you barely saw the entrance.

You began to slowly walk, bristling past some nurses and to the yellow hallway. The music became louder and clearer, scratching momentarily.

The room had a cabin feel, from the dark oak wood, to the linoleum floors. A brown couch was ratted and old, sagging. There was a vinyl spinning untouched. The soft lamps glowed eerily, marking a presence unknown. You could see the lab wasn’t too far from the room, located just beyond it. It seemed like a wavering mirage, placed behind a mirror.

“Now I’m on my knees. Darlin’ please. It’s time to die—“

The music got cut off as if the vinyl got scratched. Your hand that was resting on the door, holding it open now moved to your side. The door shut and you felt oddly singled out. Like prey being trapped in the four corners of the room. The lights danced like Christmas lights, suddenly buzzing with a high frequency, before it got overwhelmingly loud.

The buzz even shook your core, vibrating your organs. You felt like you were shifting left and right, hands covering your ears as you let out a soft sound. Confused, you looked around.

You spied what appeared to be some whiskey and a nurse coming out, her giggling eerie voice appealing to yours, “Have some, would you?” She beckoned softly. They all sounded the same too.

Unless that was you being pious, and pessimistic. You scoffed and shook your head as she poured into a clear glass. Your eyes narrowed.

“No thanks. On the job, ma’am.” You said, although you itched to taste the burn and feel it satisfy the rotten parts of you momentarily. Your brow twitched as you held onto the sample, looking past her into the lab.

“Don’t be like that…here. My names Sarah. Sarah Lockman?” She introduced, and walked forward to you. Her green eyes peered out, like foliage shining in the sun. The glass was present in her hold, shining too. You eyed it and swallowed and grabbed the sample tightly.

“I don’t know you, really.” You said, voice stiff like steel.

“Of course you wouldn’t…you know. I’m not supposed to be drinking on the job. I mean. It’s a lab and all…what would they think?” She whispered as if only you two were meant to hear. She sighed and carelessly chucked the drink down her throat, her pale fingers grabbing the glass.

“But it feels good to let go.” She added and sighed, her eyes lighting up.

You knew exactly what she meant. And the feeling of it all. You eyed her and watched the glass become empty, the brown liquid gone. “They’ll find you, you know.”

Sarah smiled softly and shook her head, “It isn’t bad until I’m caught.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” You muttered and looked down at your shoes. Who were you to judge her? To diss her? When you did the same thing. You sighed and pinched your nose bridge with a free hand, and then peered past her, to the mirror.

“I gotta get in there.” You said and moved past her. She then grabbed your arm softly, gently. Her voice shook almost like a tremor.

“I know you do it too.” She said, almost hesitantly. As if she could be wrong, but yet astoundingly correct. You stiffened up and you slowly turned your head to her, glancing at her pale hand clutching your lab coat.

“Do you, now?” You whisper and eye her shorter form. She swallowed, feeling impeccably small under you.

“Then tell me I’m wrong. Judge me. But don’t think you’re right, because you’d do the same one day.” Her words wrap around you like a blanket, feeling oddly too comforting. It’s as if you understood her, and you did. You sigh and remove her hand, facing her fully. A soft glimmering light cast upon your faces, glowing and softening the edges.

Like an old film. Like a teardrop catching the suns rays.

“Drink.” She urges, keening her head just slightly to bat her lashes at you. Her lip lifts at the corner almost slightly. A wave of submission befalls you and you shudder.

She suddenly moves light a feather to the drink, pouring it. Half a glass. You spun and reeled at the sight and before you knew it, the liquid burned. It tasted like sin and guilt and yet, a wavering dream.

“There. That’s all. Something to take the edge off, right? Seeing all that death.” She explained, giggling unceremoniously to you.

You sighed and wiped your mouth, when the room felt fuzzy and dizzy. Like an echoing dream. A cadence drifted softly around you two, cocooning a strange, twisted, intimate moment. You then lowered the glass onto the stand where the record played, lips parted.

“You drink strong for a little nurse.” You concluded, tasting the whiskey.

“We all need liquid courage, don’t we?” She mentioned your name, and you sat on the sagging couch, slumping slightly. The sample could wait. The lab was right there, after all. Your head spun and you looked at her, lids hooded and lips parting to breathe out warm puffs of air.

“Damn right. How old are you?” You asked.

She shrugged, “Age means nothing, not when the trauma happens without a care.” She said lightly, sitting beside you.

The couch sagged and your head threatened to tip back slowly, as her voice echoed. The room constricted and you felt her gaze on your slack form. She seemed to be amused, more than anything, watching you spiral.

“You get me, I think.” You whisper, feeling the drink spread like hot fire in your belly.

“I do. Trust me, I get you much more than anything.” She said.

After a while, the room became distorted and her voice faded completely. It was you and your mindless thoughts, and the steady thump of your heart. The rush of your blood sent you in a heat, and this was the high you more focused on. Just a second, you thought. Your eyes shut.

When it opened, you had no idea how much time had really passed, but you knew this. You were spinning. Unsteady. You rose up, seeing Sarah move past you and into a smaller room.

“Let me get you some water, you have to get back to work don’t you?” She whispered uncannily. You eyed her and nodded, clutching the sample and waiting. You stood in the warm room, seeing how the sudoku papers we’re spread on the coffee table, the tall lamp buzzing.

She crossed the distance, disappearing into a closet. The mirror of the lab faded and became a wall of brick, and you blinked dizzily at it. Had you really thought the lab was there? You remember the nurse pointing to a different room. Shit, maybe it was the one across this one instead.

A foot emerged from the closet. Soft, gentle, and bare. Like a child taking its first step.

Your eyes unsteadily caught it, expecting Sarah to come out with the water. And there she were in her glory, glowing, shining with this sort of essence you couldn’t describe. Something out of a dream. You weren’t really sure if it whispered soothingly or if it screamed. It all blurred.

Her pallid, molten fingers caressed the knob as if beckoning you to come closer. Then, you trailed up to see a knee lean in view, shaky as if disgruntled. Mangled. Malnourished.

You saw her pale, soft, and rancid-like skin she had. For someone out of a dream you felt you were seeing her as clear as daylight, with her auburn hair and deepest eyes. She appeared vixen like, and yet disgruntled.

Your breath froze. Her hand rested on the knob, steadying itself before her head rose to you. Long auburn hair curled around her form.

She whispered uncannily, or rather produced a whisper from behind you. You slowly walked to her, not before your stomach hurled and you stopped.

Before you knew it, you ran out, forgetting the water as she shouted your name.

[heartfullofleeches]

Hopping Ship

Yan Rival Restaurant Mascot + G.N Reader + Yan Restaurant Entities

Slow day....

Right in the middle of lunch hour too-

Scarce to see the restaurant so empty like this nowadays. After starting the new shift, you genuinely began to ponder if you'd finally lost your hearing due to the one-sided shouting matches from customers before realizing there had been a single since you clocked in and the silence surrounding you was very much real.

With so much free time, you finally got around to completing some tasks you'd be putting on the back burner for a while and a few you picked up while the janitor was out on personal business. They were gone every other week of the month, but you stopped wondering where they went after seeing them crawl into a black van one night after closing shit. It's impolite to watch coworkers who appear to be wearing your missing coat drag trash bags into unmarked vehicles after midnight.

You swept the floors, decorated the back office with some of the flowers the mascot left you and read a couple of their letters, created a sign out for the bathroom succubus to please at least put a towel beneath the door when she went on of her many "mandatory smoke breaks", and other duties which staked your claim as the establishment's most valued, living employee - all accommodating in the treat you rewarded yourself with once your break rolled around.

Sitted at the back of the fridge, behind the cooler you kept your gifted deer kidneys from the crying figure in the woods - a single fruit cup shined in all its syrupy glory. You tended to avoid eating coworkers food until their names appeared in the papers, but this little delight was stapled with a friendly letter for whoever came across it.

"For you~ (yes, the one reading this)"

That in itself should've been warning enough, but you were too hungry to care and not really in the mood for greasy fast food or ice cream from a bastard ghost. It was the perfect snack. Tiered with fruits representing all colors of the rainbow separated by rich, fluffy cream you assumed to be whipped frosting or some type of yogurt.

Snagging the cup and a spoon from the dispensery, you head back to the front to eat just in case anyone shows up. First bite in and you immediately notice something off about what you've just willingly ingested. What should've a sweet, succulent strawberry tasted exactly like strawberry cheesecake. The creaminess of its taste compared to its snappy texture threw you off entirely. You nibbled on an apple slice which tasted just like pie. Not exactly what you were going for, but you needed something on your stomach. Mindlessly chewing away, a faint hiss comes from beneath the counter.

"Psssst."

Must be another gas leak.

"Y/n - down here!"

You almost wish it had.

Peering underneath, you make contact with the frantic eyes of a former coworker. His face was caked in mud and his lips cracked from the clear signs of dehydration. You grab a cup of water from the soda machine which he near inhales, plastic and all. You take your seat back at the counter, poking around at your cup. "Hey, Noah. What happened to you last we I thought you the storyteller told you to go get lost in the forest and get eaten by bears."

"I was a boyscout growing up and all the predator animals in this area are dead. Get down - it'll see you!"

"What will?"

He tugs on your sleeve. "The rabbit thing that's been throwing everyone into that van! It's right outside!"

"Mm?"

Sucking a cube of peach cobbler off your spoon - you you peer outsife where another mascot stood - gloved hand extended a with flyer to the customer approaching the the door. The anthropomorphic rabbit was dressed in a red and white hybrid of a nurse gown and a 50s waitress outfit down to the pastel skates it wore on its large feet.. When the customer ignores the paper and went out of their way to walk around the strange figure, the creature dropped the flyer as it clasped its hand around their neck and hurls them into the open van beside it. Slamming the door on their ankle - the rabbit suddenly bends backwards with an audible crack facing the register as its ears dangle at its feet, waving at you with its Cheshire grin. You chase a grape around the container with your spoon.

"They seem friendly."

Noah pulls harder on your clothes. "Quiet! We need to call the police."

"Mmm... nah, they never respond to any of our calls anyway."

He groans into his hands. "Ughh- Ojay, we'll figure something out - just, don't make look that thing in the eye.

Bit too late for that.

The rabbit mascot had scaled the restaurant floor in about the same time it too you to swallow the bland frosting that served as a palate cleaner for the tooth rotting sweetness. It contorts to match your height, button nose inches from yours.

"Hello, hello, he-llo - where have you been hiding?~ I was looking for you. "

".... Hey, Noah? Can you actually try the police to see if they'll show up this time?"

The rabbit chuckles. "Funny too. I knew you were a catch from the second I laid eyes on you. That's why I had to make sure our first meeting was special and there were no..." Its eyes fall to the counter." prying eyes... Anywho! Did you enjoy the fruits I left for you?"

You shrug, mouth full of sugary melon. "I guess."

"Fantastic! Those at my establishment prioritize a healthy, and tasty lifestyle. I certainly hope you don't mind us treading on your territory, but it was the only spot in town fit for our dream. If all things go according to plan, you won't have to worry about the competition at all! Onto my big question - would you care to join our team? An experienced crewmate like yourself is just what we need and if you start this afternoon - I'll even make you manager! Even deal, wouldn't you say?"

"....not really."

"Great!-...." Its ears fall flat against its skill. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I kinda like it here. Bring manager sounds like I'd have to do more work than I do now, and the the ball pit is a big factor to why I stay.

Soft clapping sounds from the play area. Confused, he mascot looks between your face and your half eaten cup. "Are you sure?"

You shrug again. "Pretty sure I am."

"Maybe take another bite and think about it harder?"

LYou shove the remaining bits of fruit in your mouth, using the time to chew as your grace period. "Positive."

"I see...." The rabbit's whiskers twitch as it snaps back to full height, spinning on their wheels towards the door. "No matter. I will be back for you another day with an offer you won't be able to refuse. Until then."

You look at the floor as they skate away. "I think it's leaving, Noah.... Noah?"

"Help me!"

You glance back up in time to see Noah being dragged outside and flung into the van as his captor grumbles something about just using sleeping pills next time. You official cross him off the schedule as you throw the cup away.

"If they'd just offer me their skates - I probably would've said yes."

You lick the spoon clsan as the ice cream machine whirls to life.

"Cheater!"

"Oh shut up."

[delopsia]

Icing | Bob x Reader x Rhett

Word Count: 5,300 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, improper use of icing, food is mentioned several times, blow jobs, grinding, hand jobs, overstimulation, planning for a wedding 💐 it's porn with a very vague plot Brief Summary: This icing, in particular, is not going on the cake, but you don't mind so long as it's on Bob Floyd. 

"Are you sure this is how we're supposed to do it?" 

"What makes you ask that?" Bobby chirps, barely audible over the hum of the hand mixer. His eyes flick down to the cake pan held between your hands. "Seems perfectly fine to me." 

The beater bumps into the edge of the bowl. Icing splatters across the countertop. 

You think that might be the whisper of a swear, crossing the room. 

"I don't know, it just...feels weird," but you're pulling open the door to the oven, anyhow. A plume of heat washes across your face, like the blaze of a campfire, threatening to roast you alive.

But fortunately, the only thing being baked is this tiny pan of cake batter. Locked away to its doom of inhumane temperatures until it rises to perfection. 

"Honey, there are only so many ways you can bake a cake," Bob's entirely unaware of the blue icing staining his cheek as he reaches for a damp cloth. Now that you give it a squint, you reckon it might be up in his hair, too. 

"Well, last I checked," reaching out to swipe at his face with your thumb, raising it to your lips. Different color. Same taste as before. "Most folks don't have to bake their own wedding cake samples."

His head turns back to the thin list of instructions, scanning over where he left off, and—oh, well, he's got blue in his hair, too. 

"Hey, get a load of this," Rhett's voice echoes from the living room, socked feet thumping across the hardwood. "They're sellin' that ol' rodeo property in town." 

You're not entirely sure what woke him; if it was the clatter of skillets as you clumsily withdrew them from the oven, or if it was the bickering over why Bobby continues to use the appliance as a storage unit. It had to have been something you two did; fifteen minutes is astronomically short for a Rhett nap.

Maybe he never went to sleep to begin with because he's got a newspaper in hand. Today's date sits proudly in the corner, next to his thumb; he must have picked it up from the gas station on his drive home. 

"We should buy it," waggling the paper in his hand, like it'll somehow convince you and Bobby to scrounge up ninety-five grand for an arena that has been abandoned for the better half of two decades.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Bob's mixer kicks back on, an obnoxious noise sounding through the kitchen. Surely, there have to be quieter models out there. "We'll put an offer in next week."

"Ha. Ha," Rhett's eyes roll, the newspaper falling onto the recently cleared counter, right where Bobby was saving space for the blue icing. "Funny." 

His mouth opens like he's got more to say, but nothing slips past those thin lips. Soft blue eyes flicker across the counter, scanning across your rainbow assortment of icings, the sample baggies of sprinkles and candles, and the portfolio of decorative figures. Not one of the premade couples comes with a third partner, but you're not entirely sure if you want to go that route to begin with.

Rhett's nose wrinkles; lost. You've got nothing more than a shrug to offer.

"All I'm sayin' is," picking back up on the hanging conversation, he reaches out to poke his finger into an open dish of sprinkles. The ones made to look like pearls. There were more, but half got lost when you accidentally ripped the package open. "You'll have a lotta time on your hands when ya leave the Navy."

The mixer shuts off. 

"Who said I was leaving the Navy?" 

Rhett's lifting a pearl to his mouth, obnoxious tongue poking out to catch it. "You, last night." 

"And the night before that." You add, with a nudge of your shoulder.

And the night before that one. Sometime five mornings ago. Again, last week. After the most recent deployment and the one before that. Before the engagement and way before the house was bought...actually, when has he not talked about this?

The pearl cracks so loud that you almost wonder if it chipped Rhett's tooth. His brows furrow, shifting the hunk of sugar around in his mouth. "The hell are you two doin'...?" 

"We're baking our wedding cake samples," and even with Bob saying it so matter of factly, it doesn't sound right. Nothing about this picture is correct.

Rhett's head tilts to the side. Even the dark hair cascading into his face can't hide those questioning eyes. 

"See?" Throwing your hand out as if Bobby hasn't noticed the puppy-dog of a man standing on the other side of the island. "Even he's confused by this."

Nobody bakes their own wedding cake samples. This is your sign to find a better bakery! Before the stakes grow even higher! 

Careful, Bob pulls the mixer from the bowl, turning around to drop the beaters into the sink. "He's always confused."

"Hey!" Rhett squawks. "Ya jus' gonna say that 'n turn your back to me?" 

Not a word leaves Bob's mouth, deliberately keeping his back to you and Rhett as if to drive home his unspoken point. He's doing his best to remain firm, but even so, you can see the way the corner of his lip rises with every passing second. Must be able to hear the way Rhett's rounding the corner, big hands reaching out to grab hold of bony hips. 

It's a little too easy for him to force Bob to turn. 

"What, can't say it to my face?" Any venom in Rhett's tone is lost in the midst of his chuckle. Amused. 

Still, Bobby remains quiet, defiantly folding his arms across his chest, like that will somehow stop the smile from bursting onto his pale face. It's a losing game. Rhett knows it. You know it. He knows it. The whole world knows it.

Rhett's tilting his head, leaning close. "Say." Kiss. "It." Kiss. Bob's hand reaches out toward the counter. "To."  Kiss. "My." Kiss. His finger dips into blue icing. "Face." Kiss. "Pal."  Kiss.

One blink, and you nearly miss it. The swift drag of Bobby's fingertip, smearing the artificially dyed sweetness onto Rhett's thin lips. Leaves just a big enough mess for him to lean in and press his mouth to Rhett's, that soft pink tongue darting out to lick it off. It ends as quickly as it started, with Bobby turning back to the counter, already beginning to pour another pack of sprinkles into an empty container.

Rhett's wide eyes meet with yours. Bewildered.

...huh.

"What do we think of lemon?" Bobby's speaking as if nothing ever happened. Acting it, too. 

You're not entirely sure what he means by that. "I'm sorry?" 

"Cake flavors," holding up a non-descript packet of mix. "There's lemon in here." 

Rhett's nose wrinkles, and you can't help but wonder if he's recalling the sourness of the lemon pie you two tried to put together for Bobby. Worst damn welcome home present you've ever made. 

"Is there a difference to the icin'?" Rhett asks, poking at one of the bowls. 

"They're all the same." Bob's head shakes, sprinkles audibly pouring out of the packet and into yet another bowl. Who's gonna wash all these dishes, anyhow? 

Rhett's eyes meet with yours. Brows furrowing, like this is the most absurd thing he's ever heard. If the initial confusion hadn't already worn off, you reckon you'd be feeling the same damn thing. Who does this, and why are you just letting it happen? Is your life so devoid of joy that this is what you've allowed yourself to resort to?

Or is Bob Floyd just very, very good at convincing you to blindly follow his lead?

Idle, Rhett's hand dips into some of the icing. Slow. Flying just below the radar of Bobby's peripheral. "So why'd ya make every color?" 

And your poor WSO hasn't the slightest damn clue, reaching for yet another container of sprinkles. "To see what—" 

Rhett's big hand presses into Bob's pale cheek, vibrant orange icing splattering against his skin. Dragging down, down, down his neck and onto the little bit of chest peeking out from the low collar of his shirt. 

You know what's going to happen before it even starts. Bobby's fingers dive into a pool of pale yellow. Smacking it into Rhett's broad chest, gets the base of his neck and all. And Rhett's reaching for the pink, dragging it across an unwitting forearm. Bob's going for green. Reaching for Rhett's scruffy jaw. Giggles bubble through the air. 

Blue splatters across the kitchen floor and across your shirt. 

Your white shirt. "Hey!"

"He started it!" Bob squeaks. But he's stumbling backward, bumping into you as he reaches for another bowl—ammunition for the next attack. 

All Rhett can do is grin. "Did I?" 

Insufferable. 

Your hand darts out from your side, venturing to the counter. 

Purple splatters across Bobby's clothed belly. The only spot you could reach. 

"Both of you?" Bobby's squawking. Twisting. Turning until he's got his back to the sink and not you or Rhett, his vibrantly colored hands held toward the ceiling. Surrender, or preparing his next move? You're not sure yet. 

God, he's a mess. Splatters of orange, pink, blue, and plain white, stretching from his nose to his belly; you think there might be a little bit of purple lurking beneath his chin. Rhett's not doing much better, green clinging to his jaw, chest decorated with a vibrant smear of yellow. 

"What else are we s'pposed t' do with all this icin'?" He asks, lifting his fingers to his lips, short pink tongue darting out to lap up the sweetness clinging to his skin. 

Bob's eyes roll. You wonder if he's noticed the drop of green on his lens. "Well, wearing it shouldn't even make the list!" But it's nothing compared to the icing on his neck, sickly sweet and spread thin over the thick vein that bulges from beneath his skin. 

"I can think of a few ideas," muttering, entranced. 

Out of his peripheral, Rhett meets your eye. The corner of his lip twitches up, fingers slipping out of his mouth with a wet 'pop' so loud that it echoes through the kitchen. 

"What..." Bob swallows. Adam's apple rising and falling. Soft blues flicker between you and Rhett; must be able to read the thoughts filtering through your head. "Would that entail, exactly?"

You don't know who steps forward first. But one way or another, your sticky hands are finding their way to Bobby's chest, bracing yourself as you lean in. Rhett's so close that his hair tickles your cheek; he had a longer distance to cross than you did, and yet he's already beating you to the point. Licking a fat, wet stripe up the side of Bob's neck. 

And you're in hot pursuit. Licking up the other side, trailing across that thick vein, multicolored icing greeting your taste buds. But that sugary sweetness is nearly dulled in comparison to the soft mewl that rolls out of Bobby's mouth, his head rolling backward. 

"Okay..." he breathes, "that's..."

The flavor of this icing is far from your favorite; it isn't even close to the one you had in mind when contacting the bakery, but you can hardly pay it any attention. Nothing but a mild annoyance when you've got this to preoccupy your mind with. Bob's hand, working its way up your side. Rhett's soft hum, downright delighted with this predicament. 

Careful, your lips press to a soft patch of skin beneath his ear, sucking lightly. Not enough to bruise his terribly sensitive skin, but still managing to leave behind a faint redness in your wake. One tiny little mark after another, spots blending amongst the vivid orange that you've yet to lick up.

This icing, in particular, is not going on the cake, but you don't mind so long as it's on Bob Floyd. Him and his sticky, heaving chest, squirming as you work lower, lower, lower. Teeth grazing across his collar, tugging on the flesh stretched thin over the bone there. 

Rhett's shoulder knocks into your side, a little too broad to be squeezing himself in next to you. His hands venture to the hem of Bob's horribly stained t-shirt, yanking upward.

"The cake," Bob's panted protest is hardly one at all, "you can't...it'll burn." And yet he's obediently lifting his arms, letting Rhett pull the shirt over his head. Maybe letting it fall to the floor isn't the best idea, but you're in no position to raise even the slightest objection.

"We have time," you murmur. Lie. You don't even know if you set the timer. 

Frankly, you don't care. It's just too damn easy to forget about. Letting your mouth find its way down Bob's pale chest, a thin trail of saliva marking your path as if you could possibly become lost in this familiar terrain. 

But even though you've had a head start, Rhett still manages to beat you to the checkpoint, his lips wrapping around a delicate nipple. So sudden that Bob jerks beneath you, his feet stumbling. Two can play this game, though, and Rhett can only pay attention to one thing at a time. 

Without the slightest warning, you sink down. Knees thunking heavily against the cold kitchen tile. They'll ache when you ultimately climb back to your feet, but that's for the future version of you to worry about. Right now, your bold hand is soothing over the heavy bulge in these sweats, feeling how Bobby twitches from the simplest touch. 

"Can't believe you're already hard, Robby," teasing, your thumb swipes right beneath his tip. The wet spot forming in the thin gray material is like a reward.

"You're..." his head rolls, fingers tugging at Rhett's hair, "surprised?" 

Not in the slightest. 

It's Rhett who reaches for the thick elastic of Bob's waistband. Watching through thick lashes as you help pull it downso swiftly that his cock brushes your cheek as it springs up to smack against his belly. Flushed a bright ruby, a small bead of precum running down the underside of him.

"Shit," Rhett swears; it's so quiet that you can hear the way his knees creak as he settles down next to you. 

And now both of you are down here, caught up in some kind of perfect synchrony, leaning forward to run your tongues up the sides of Bob's cock. Relishing in that shuddered gasp as you and Rhett meet at his head, lips brushing in what was meant to be a sloppy kiss, but it's more of a clash of tongues than anything. Broken apart by Bob's soft cock head, caught perfectly in the middle.

"You...." Bob's hand bumps into your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there, "fuck, you two are..." 

Rhett's chuckle is all it takes to have Bob's sharp hips bucking forward, pushing himself right past your parted lips. Wasn't exactly next up on your itinerary, but you're rolling with it as if it was. Sucking gently, tongue swiping back and forth beneath it. Teasing while you still can. 

Not a single beat is missed. With the delicate hollow of your cheeks and the lazy way Rhett mouths at the side of him, it's almost hard to believe that this wasn't choreographed earlier in the day. As if anyone could have predicted that Bob was serious about this whole 'baking cake samples' thing.

"Y' likin' that, Bobby?" Rhett hums, pausing to graze his teeth against delicate skin. "Watchin' both of us on our knees for ya?" 

You're leaning back, and Rhett's moving in to take over for you. Doesn't need to use his hands, as he sucks that leaking tip into his mouth.

Bob sucks in a breath. His other hand dives into Rhett's hair, tangling in the mess of it. "How could I—mhm, not?" 

All of a sudden, Rhett's sliding further down, eyes scrunching shut as Bob knocks into the back of his throat, but that's never been enough to deter him. It's a wonder he's got a gag reflex at all. You can't help but twist yourself around, a hand coming to rest on his lower back, bracing yourself as you find your way to the underside of his jaw. Air audibly puffs through his nose. Always has been sensitive here. 

Sweet, too, with all of this icing to be licked up. There simply isn't another person cut out for this sort of job. The artificial flavor is far from your favorite, but you can't be inclined to share. Not when he tries to lean into it, a muffled grunt rumbling out of him. 

Above you, Bob can't close his mouth. "That's...oh, that's—"

A shrill beep tears through the air. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

So you did set the timer. Lucky him.

And Rhett laughs. Barely able to pull away before he chokes, swollen lips glistening as they meld with the shape of his smile. "Guess ya gotta check that, flyboy."

This is the first and likely the last time you'll see Bob Floyd check an oven with his sweats pooling around his thighs, heavy cock bouncing as he leans down to see what he's doing. Is the cake done? Or burnt? You haven't the slightest clue because Rhett's kissing at the side of your neck, and any self-control you had left dissolves in an instant.

"Shame y' didn't get more of this on ya," he's speaking into your skin, vibrating right up into your head and rattling all your thoughts off their metaphorical shelves. 

The stain on your brand-new shirt is speaking otherwise. "This stuff doesn't even taste that great."

"'s good when it's on one of you," he does, unfortunately, make a really good point. The kind that lets him get away with pushing your pants down your legs,  underwear and all, right here in the damn kitchen. So much for trying to break the habit of kitchen shenanigans. 

You wonder if this memory will wander back into your mind the next time you invite guests over and eat in this kitchen. 

Rhett's hands settle on the sides of your waist, pulling you into him as he leans backward. Knocking the back of his head against the tile can't feel good, but he doesn't react in the slightest. Too busy pulling you on top of him, your legs straddling his wide hips. They hitch upward, so strong that they push you along with it, as he shoves his shorts down his legs, cock audibly smacking against his belly, swiping against your thigh as it drifts past.

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" Your hands brace against his chest, chasing the illusion of stability.

"Mhm," is the best he's got to offer, and he's hardly got to guide you any further. You're already beating him to the punch, grinding down against his length, letting him slip between your parted lips. 

Fuck, it's been a while since you last felt his weeping cock head drag against your clit. You wonder if he can feel the way you involuntarily clench around nothing, sent into a mindless spasm from that alone.

Bobby's knees audibly knock against the floor, and you're not entirely sure where his sweats went. "You two move too damn fast."

"Maybe you're just slow," there's nothing but playfulness in your tone, albeit the slightest bit breathless. You can't help it. Not when you've got this going on between your legs. Rhett and his big cock rolling up into you, chasing the feeling of your pussy against him. Beads of precum slicken the glide, every motion punctuated by a sickly wet little noise.

"'n ya say I'm the one always givin' ya trouble," Rhett's not doing much to help his own case, but then again, you don't think that was his goal. 

It's an awkward angle, with Bob sitting on his knees and Rhett laying against the floor, but he's craning his head up, tongue greeting the underside of Bob's cock. A fleeting sort of thing that only lasts a moment or three.

"You're gonna upset your shoulder if you keep doing that," Bobby hums, not making any move to stop Rhett from trying at it again, lips stubbornly wrapping around his mushroom tip. 

There's a spin in your head that wasn't there before. Lightheaded over the sight before you and the sweet throb of your cunt, sliding against Rhett's shaft like you're aiming to win a first-place trophy. Hands flat against his heaving chest, trembling arms hardly keeping your body upright as your hips roll. 

"Can feel ya gettin' wetter round me," Rhett's eyelashes are fluttering, and it's all he can do to keep himself from knocking his skull against the tile again. "Fuck." 

"As if you're not dripping like a damn faucet," your words hitching on a gasp, the embers of a whine building in the back of your throat. Getting off to this wasn't on your list of plans, but with every soft massage of his plush tip, you're growing closer to writing it at the very top. 

Rhett's back arches off the ground, legs kicking beneath you, like he can feel the heat that's flooding your lower belly. Makes it so damn hard for you to keep moving your body back and forth, hopelessly grinding back and forth, obsessed with the way he kisses your clit on every pass. 

"God, you two should see yourselves," Bobby says it like he's caught up in a trance; you don't think you've seen him blink since he knelt down here.

"Enjoying the show?" Speaking through a gasp. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your eyes are rolling backward, and Rhett's twitching against you, and it's so, so much. 

His hands settle on your aching thighs. Blunt nails digging into the meat of them. Does nothing to ward off the shiver that's settled into the muscle there. But his hips are rising up off the floor, and he's rutting himself into you properly now, rubbing against your poor clit over and over and over. 

"Rhett—" whimpering high in your throat. Head tilting back. You're...he's...

"C'mon," in that raspy tone of his, wavering with the motion of his body, "cum on my cock."

Bob's cool hand glides up the side of your neck, and that is it. 

A choked noise echoes through the kitchen and into the living room. Spasming, cumming to the drag of him against your clit alone.  Clenching helplessly around nothing but air, a ripple running up your spine. Your arms crumple out from under you. Stars sparkle behind your eyelids like the night sky. Falling into a messy heap on Rhett's chest, helpless as his cock keeps rubbing against your dripping cunt. 

"Ah—Rhett!" Jolting. Oversensitive. And it's all you can do to slide off of him, letting gravity drag you down to his side instead, a leg lazily sprawled overtop his thigh. You don't know if he's laughing or if you're hearing the hammer of your heart beating away in your ears. 

"Awful quick," Bob's eyes flick to you, hardly able to conceal the playful glint in them.  

You ought to give him trouble for such a comment, but your head is still spinning like it's about to float up into the clouds. The best you can do is to swipe out with your hand, smacking against his belly. "Like you're any better." 

Rhett's chest rumbles with a chuckle. You're not entirely sure when he got his arm around you, but it's carefully squeezing you into him. Keeping you snug against his chest as Bobby moves to settle between his legs. 

And this...this is a hell of an angle to be observing from. You don't have to move your eyes or tilt your head at all, comfortably gazing at the sight of Rhett's plush thighs caging Bob's waist. On its own, your hand darts out, grabbing a handful of one. There's so much more to squeeze compared to when you first met; he's exchanged that wiry frame for something thicker, stronger, too. 

Bob's reaching for his own cock, still wet with saliva, as he leans forward, fingers darting out to wrap around Rhett, too. 

One stroke and Rhett's hips lift off the floor. "Shit." 

He's so damn wet, with what mess you've made of him and the precum spilling out of his inflamed tip like a dripping faucet. Bob's thumb swipes out, collecting the clear fluid and spreading it onto himself, but before he's done there's already another bead of it forming. 

"Good lord, Rhett," Bob mutters, and you're not entirely sure where he got that packet of lube from, tearing it open with his teeth, already beginning to pour the sticky substance onto their cocks.

So much for trying to break Rhett of that habit.

If he'd give Rhett a few minutes, you think he'd spill out enough to warrant forgoing lube altogether, but Bobby can only stretch his patience so far. Never has been able to hold out for very long when it comes to you and Rhett. That big hand of his gives an experimental stroke, a wet squelch sounding through the delicate air; you don't know who groans louder.

What you do know is that the sight before you is downright obscene. Rhett's legs squeezing around Bobby like he'll disappear if he doesn't, their heavy cocks twitching into one another. How Rhett's tip has a darker shade of red as compared to Bob's pale pink. They look so similar until they're right next to each other like this; it's the only way to tell that Bob's a fraction longer but not quite as thick as Rhett is. 

Bob jerks forward, pressing impossibly closer. "Does that feel good?" As if he's not speaking around his own strangled breath. 

You have to lift your head to get a better look at Rhett's face. Eyes scrunched shut, teeth worrying his thin bottom lip, cheeks flushed with a newfound redness. "Uhuh." His head shakes with what you think is a nod.

Maybe that's an answer Bob was looking for, but you want to hear more. "Use your words, cowboy." 

"It feels—" Swallowing hard. A microscopic mewl breaks past his lips. "Feels good!"

He's already dissolving into a mess of squirms, wriggling back and forth, the swift stroke of Bob's hand too much for him to handle. Bucking upward, only to try and draw away, unshaven jaw shivering like a leaf in the wind. 

Your fingers drift upward, nails dragging across the soft meet of his inner thigh, knuckles brushing against his balls as you drift past. Lightly rolling them in your palm would draw the prettiest sounds out of him, but today, you've got a slightly different plan in mind. Fingertips wander into the soft expanse of skin behind them, rubbing in loose circles. 

A pitchy cry rings in your ears. Rhett's hand flies up. Tugging at his own hair. Desperate to grab hold of something. "Fuck! 'm gonna..." His head thrashes, pretty neck barred to the world. "I'm, I'm—"

"You fixin' to cum for us, sweet thing?" Bobby's voice sounds akin to thunder, a little twang in his tone. His thumb darts out, rapidly swiping back and forth across Rhett's plush cock head.

Curls bounce with Rhett's nod. Hardly able to close his mouth and stifle his moan. Yet, it's so loud that you can hear it anyway. Your fingers keep spiraling, pressing the slightest bit harder. You're almost certain that you can feel the sporadic twitch of muscle as his back arches, cumming with a wail. 

A rope of white paints across his belly. The next one caught by Bobby's still moving hand. Disappearing into the squelching mix of lube and precum and your own juices, some kind of lewd recipe for disaster. Rhett's hips jerk. Yanks a grunt out of him. 

But Bobby's not stopping. Still pumping their cocks together as if nothing ever happened. If anything, you think he's going faster, and it's got Rhett jumping around like a wounded animal. Mouth wide open. Brows knit together. 

"Too much, too much, that's not—ah!"  He squeals. Panting hard. Frantically pawing at Bob's hand, but it's doing nothing to end his torment. 

"Hang on for me," Bob's eyes scrunch shut. Hissing through his teeth. Close. "You can do it."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't, that—haah!" Rhett's twitching. Wailing. Legs kicking in the air.Still smacking at Bob's rapidly jerking fist as if that can possibly save him, but he's not uttering a single note of his safe word. Merely dissolving into a frenzied babble of, "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby!"

That's all it takes for Bob's pale blue eyes to roll into the back of his head with a soft, deepened groan. Set off by the babbled cry of a helpless cowboy, trembling like a leaf beneath him. Rope after rope of cum, splattering against Rhett's lower belly and all over his softening cock. A visible shiver rakes its way up Bob's spine, and for a moment you think his glasses are about to fall off.

 Finally, finally, the motion of that big hand is beginning to slow, loosening until Rhett's length slips from his grip entirely, smacking against his skin. Between the wateriness of Rhett's eyes and the redness in Bob's cheeks, you're not entirely sure where to look. Each are tempting in their own right, but not enough time to focus on both. 

You suppose your distraction is why it takes a moment to realize that Bob's actually moving. Leaning down at a snail's pace, his lips pressing to your forehead, lingering for a moment or three before moving on to Rhett's, pressing a kiss to him, too. "Maybe we should call a different bakery," he murmurs, half-lidded gaze flickering to you. 

If this is all it took, then next time, you'll skip the arguing and jump right into kissing down his neck. "You think?" There's a hoarseness to your voice that wasn't there before; you blame the icing. 

Whether or not he caught the sarcasm in your tone, you have no idea. 

"Yeah..." Bobby pauses as Rhett leans in to steal a proper kiss on the lips. "Now we've gotta do something with all these ingredients."

Rhett hums. Sounds akin to a cat purring. "I have a few ideas." You wonder if those ideas include smearing each other with icing again or offhandedly snacking on sprinkles for the next several months.

"I'll hear you out on those ideas," yawning, a strangled little noise escaping you, "when we're in bed."

A valid request, but Bobby's wrinkling his nose at it. "How about a bath, then bed."

"Y' act like we were just rollin' in mud," Rhett's fingers tap at your shoulder, gently squeezing. 

"I love you two, but I draw the line at sticky sheets." Well, if Bob wants you to take a bath so damn bad, then he's gonna have to help you find the strength to get off this floor. Your hand reaches out, opening and closing in a grabbing motion. 

It takes a couple seconds of looking at it for him to realize what you're asking, but after a moment, he slips his hand into yours, holding it as he rises to his feet. Something in your knee audibly pops as he pulls you up, an ache blooming in the bone from digging into the floor earlier. Your feet stumble, knocking into Rhett and nearly taking him back down with you.

"You're a mess, sweetheart," Bob laughs, pulling on your hand as if you're still due to fall at any moment. You're not entirely sure when you acquired the purple icing on your thigh or the smear of green running down your leg; you refuse to acknowledge the array of colors on the floor until after you've had a nap. 

"So are you," not an ounce of venom in your tone, despite the attempt at mustering some kind of sarcastic bite. Behind you, Rhett hums his agreement. Someone started this, and it certainly was not you or Rhett. 

"No, I'm not," Bob's beaming, almost proud of himself. "You two licked me clean, remember?" 

It'll take the rest of the day for him to notice the icing on his glasses. 

[bitter-hibiscus]

I absolutely your Robin Jason headcannons, do you have any more? Maybe some Red Hood ones as well?

!!! im so happy to be getting these asks this is so fun

More Jaybin hcs (part one here):

He has a bunch of 1960s style clothes because Rena likes dressing like a mix of Amy Winehouse and Twiggy

baby goth in the making thanks to Natalia. she gives him a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's poems and he's just hook, line, and sinker into the subculture

He usually listens to metal bands but his guilty pleasure music is slow ballads and gayboy pop (think Kevin Atwater and Troye Sivan)

His favorite rogue to fight is KGBeast because of sentimentality, since KGB is the first rogue he ever defeated as Robin

He has pimples on his thighs and neck but somehow never on his face

He hates having his nails painted because of sensory issues, but lets Rena paint them anyway

His favorite of Dick's teammates is Vic, because he let Jason watch him fix one of Kori's alien weapons once, and he's super patient and kind and answers all of Jason's questions

Red Hood hcs:

Still mostly listens to metal but his favorite band is Rainbow Kitten Surprise (his favorite song is Finalist)

He has a journal where he writes shitty, angsty poetry with a fountain pen

He can never quite resist petting dogs during patrol, so there are multiple pictures online of Mafia Boss Red Hood playing with civilian's puppies

Has a tattoo of a wilded rose on top of his batarang scar to hide it. It's corny and ugly as hell but that was kind of the point. After he starts dating Rose he tells her it's because they were destined to meet. She gags every time

full-fledged romantic goth now. I'm talking manic panic white base, big eyeliner, and fake fangs. I'm talking huge messy hair with about a ton of hairspray. I'm talking "hates that every goth clothing he can find has bats on it"

His main mug is one of those corny millennial "don't talk to me until I've had my coffee" ones that Roy got for him during the outlaws. Jason uses it ironically but Roy thinks he also finds it funny

Sometimes when he's feeling nostalgic Jason will lay down on a rooftop and try to find where Oa is up in the sky, because he and Kyle looked for constellations together during Cosmic Mistake

Contrary to popular belief, his favorite superhero isn't Wonder Woman, it's Black Canary. Which is too bad because she hates his guts

Sent Sasha to live with an ex-con he trusted in South Dakota. He still sends her gifts often but they don't talk anymore since they realized how bad he was to her mental health

Deathstroke's #5 hater. Loses only to all 3 Wilson children (minus Res), Cassandra Cain, and Oliver Queen

Really wants to meet Connor Hawke because he was actually being genuine in GA Vol3 when he told Ollie he'd always wanted to meet him, and has since really really wanted to meet all of the Arrows even though none of them like him. He's the world's worst fanboy

Will do anything Talia asks of him but spits on Ra's face if he so much as looks in Jason's direction

Calls Damian "little prince" in Arabic (Amir Le-Zghir) specifically because of the book, but ALSO because it was what Willis called him when he was a child

Duke is his favorite bat because he isn't afraid to make fun of Jason, gets into a shit ton of trouble, and swears around Bruce like it's nothing

Whew, I think that's enough for a single post. Still have a lot more though lmao

[krdc]

マジカルラブ - 黒沢心の声だだ漏れVer. (magical love - kurosawa's overflowing thoughts ver.) — full version

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(lyrics & unofficial translation below, kurosawa's thoughts in pink)

magical love　be with you

すげー可愛い　すげー好き

suge kawaii suge suki

you're so cute, i like you so much

やばい　めっちゃドキドキする

yabai meccha dokidokisuru

crap, my heart is beating so fast

指の隙間でチラ見 (最初はただ)

yubi no sukima de chira mi (saisho wa tada)

glancing through the cracks of my fingers (at first...)

僕にはもったいないって？ (そばにいられたらって)

boku ni wa mottainai tte (soba ni iraretara tte)

aren't you wasting it on me? (being by your side...)

今までだったらそれで終わり (思ってただけなのに)

ima made dattara sore de owari (omotteta dake na noni)

if it had been before, this would've been the end (was enough for me)

一味違うthis love　wow

hitoaji chigau this love wow

this love is different, wow

まさかこの年になってこんな

masaka kono toshi ni natte konna

i never thought i'd experience it at my age

初恋みたいな気持ちになるなんて

hatsukoi mitaina kimochi ni naru nante

this feeling that feels like a first love

ああ　もうずるい

aa mou zurui

ah, it's just not fair

これ以上どうしろっていうんだよ

kore ijou dou shirotteiun da yo

if this keeps up, what am i supposed to do?

瞬間　近づく鼓動

shunkan chikazuku kodou

the moment i got near your heartbeat

聴こえた　マジかよ　マジカル！？

kikoeta maji ka yo majikaru

i heard them, it's for real, it's magical?!

ヤバイ　近いっ　可愛いーっ！

yabai chikai kawaii

crap, you're so close, you're so cute!

もう　ムリ無理　見て見ぬフリ

mou muri muri mite minu furi

i can't keep pretending i don't see it

夢でも　胸高鳴り

yume demo munadaka nari

even in my dreams, it makes my heart race

運命変えちゃう love

unmei kaechau love

a love that changes destiny

君と　僕が？　あわわっ

kimi to boku ga awawa

between you and me? i can't deal!

ハッピーエンドの途中

happi endo no tochu

on the way to our happy ending

焦る i want you (yeah)

aseru i want you (yeah)

i want you right now (yeah)

一緒なら越えてゆける

issho nara koete yukeru

as long as we're together, we can overcome it all

明日は七色　君と甘色　wow yes

asu wa nanairo kimi to amairo wow yes

tomorrow will have a rainbow, with you and the sweet colors, wow, yes

安達...

adachi...

四六時中　夢心地 (こんなに可愛くて)

shirokujichu yumegokochi (konnani kawaikute)

day and night, i keep dreaming (is your being this cute...)

そんなの聞いてないって (大丈夫なのか！？)

sonna no kiitenai tte (daijoubuna no ka)

saying things i've never heard you say (really okay?!)

想定外　好きが渋滞 chu (俺だけのものにしたい)

souteigai suki ga jutai chu (ore dake no mono ni shitai)

unexpected feelings stuck in a traffic jam (i want you to be only mine)

大胆不敵 this love　wow

daitan futeki this love wow

this love is fearless, wow

これ以上好きにさせて

kore ijou suki ni sasete

why do you have to...

どうしようっていうんだよ

dou shiyoutteiun da yo

make me fall for you even more?

ああ　このまま時が止まれば良いのに

aa kono mama toki ga tomareba ii noni

ah, i wish time would just stop right here

敏感　本音と嘘

binkan honne to uso

my sensitive true feelings and my lies

気づいた　マジかよ　マジカル！？

kizuita maji ka yo majikaru

you noticed them, it's for real, it's magical?!

ヤバイ　近いっ　可愛いーっ！

yabai chikai kawaii

crap, you're so close, you're so cute!

もう　ムリ無理　見て見ぬフリ

mou muri muri mite minu furi

i can't keep pretending i don't see it

夢でも　胸高鳴り

yume demo munadaka nari

even in my dreams, it makes my heart race

運命変えちゃう love

unmei kaechau love

a love that changes destiny

君と　僕が？　あわわっ

kimi to boku ga awawa

between you and me? i can't deal!

ハッピーエンドの途中

happi endo no tochu

on the way to our happy ending

焦る i want you (yeah)

aseru i want you (yeah)

i want you right now (yeah)

一緒なら越えてゆける

issho nara koete yukeru

as long as we're together, we can overcome it all

明日は七色　君と甘色　wow yes

asu wa nanairo kimi to amairo wow yes

tomorrow will have a rainbow, with you and the sweet colors, wow, yes

隣にキミの笑顔 (love is the magic)

tonari ni kimi no egao (love is the magic)

with your smile next to me (love is the magic)

yeah (love is the magic) oh

魔法が解けたって　大丈夫さ　ふたりなら

mahou ga toketa tte daijoubusa futari nara

even if the magic is undone, we'll be okay as long as we're together

安達！

adachi!

幸せすぎてもムリ

shiawasesugite mo muri

i'm too happy, i can't handle it

未体験の胸騒ぎ

mi taiken no munasawagi

the apprehension of something unfamiliar

世界の数だけ love (あーっ) love (まって) love (もうっ) wow

sekai no kazu dake love (aa) love (matte) love (mou) wow

for every world out there, there's just as much of our love (ah...) love (wait...) love (jeez...) wow

大好きだ！

daisuki da

i love you!

初めてだらけのストーリー

hajimetedarake no sutori

in this story filled with our firsts

誰にも邪魔させない

dare ni mo jamasasenai

we won't let anyone interfere

特別以上の love

tokubetsu ijou no love

a love that's beyond special

愛しい　嬉しい　気持ち

itoshii ureshii kimochi

and the precious, happy feelings

ハッピーエンドの途中

happi endo no tochu

on the way to our happy ending

もう全部 i want you

mou zenbu i want you

i want you, all of you

一緒なら越えてゆける

issho nara koete yukeru

as long as we're together, we can overcome it all

明日は七色　君と甘色　wow yes

asu wa nanairo kimi to amairo wow yes

tomorrow will have a rainbow, with you and the sweet colors, wow, yes

magical love　be with you

もう　幸せすぎる

mou shiawase sugiru

jeez, i'm too happy...

[ceasarslegion]

Being a mideast third culture kid right now is infuriating because you can tell right away which westerners see the various conflicts there as like, their pet foreign issues that function like pokemon battles instead of deeply complicated ethnoconflicts going back centuries that just had gas thrown on them by neo-colonialism. If I see one more raised westerner say that there was no conflict in the gulf region and it was all puppies and rainbows before the Europeans showed up just because they had math and science and weren't dying of the plague I'm going to eat my entire arm. The uwu-ification of all non-(white) western cultures has got to stop dude. It reminds me of how people act like the indigenous peoples of north America were all like, one single race and culture and never had any wars or conflicts and lived in some utopian harmony with each other just because they side-eyed the Europeans when they talked about land as something you could own.

[absolutebl]

Hello ABL. First of all, let me just say, that I love your devotion to Seven Days. It was my very first bl and what got me to discover the genre. Of course it was all downhill from there lol. Just kidding. Maybe... Anyway. I've been doing this thing since the beginning of the year where I watch older jbls (usually before 2020, although that is not old by any stretch) to kinda get a broader view of the genre in Japan. I haven't been in this for that long so I'm still catching up. Some of the stuff I've watched so far. All the Pornographer series/films ; Dangerous Drugs of Sex; Takimu-kun 1 & 2; Junjou (2010); Athlete (2019) Udagawachou de Matteteyo (2015); Ai no Kotodama (2008) No Touching At All (2014) ; The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese (2020). I've also watched things like His (series and film), Restart coming back home, Life Love on the Line, and I'm probably missing a couple but not a lot. So I was wondering if you had more recs for me. Anything you can think would fit with what I'm trying to do.

Thanks so much for your time.

Rose💜

Hi darling!

You're missing Boys Love, both of them. If you can stomach it.

Did you see my History of Japan thingy? I'd say try to hit everything discussed in that post: (The top 10 is out of date tho)

And the ones I picked from Japan for the 101 Syllabus

Apart from that's I'm gonna just give you my list of older JBL stuff. I put a * next ones often referenced in the zeitgeist of weedy discussions here on Tumblr in particular, some of which you already mentioned but I just want it to be as complete as possible. These are by date (sort of).

Older Japanese BL (Live Action Yaoi)

* Boys Love 2006

* Boys Love: The Movie AKA Boys Love 2 AKA Schoolboy Crush 2007

Itsuka no Kimi e 2007

Asymmetry 2008

* Forbidden Love 2008

Gymnasium Baby AKA Taiikukan Baby 2008

Melody of Our Love AKA Bokura no Ai no Kanade 2008

Ai no Kotodama 2008

Ai no Kotodama 2: Sekai no Hate Made 2010

* Takumi-kun 1: And The Spring Breeze Whispers 2007

* Takumi-kun 2: Rainbow Colored Glass 2009

Takumi-kun 3: The Beauty of Detail 2010

Takumi-kun 4: Pure 2010

Takumi-kun 5: That, Sunny Blue Sky 2011

* Junjou: Pure Heart 2010

Fujimi Orchestra 2012

Shape of Happiness 1 AKA Love Place: Hakanaki Kata Omoi - Gaiya no Koi 2013

Shape of Happiness 2 AKA Love Place: Shiawase no Katachi 2013

Coming Out AKA Kamgu Auto 2014

* No Touching At All AKA Doushitemo Furetakunai 2014

* Same Difference AKA Docchi Mo Docchi 2014

Forever Summer 2015

* Wait For Me at Udagawachou AKA Udagawachou de Matteteyo 2015

Candy and Kiss 2015

* Seven Days AKA Seven Days: Monday-Thursday AND Seven Days: Friday-Sunday 2 parts 2015

* Double Mints 2017

* Silhouette of Your Voice AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru 2017

* The Novelist AKA Pornographer (Pornographer series) 2018

Mood Indigo (Pornographer series) 2019

Pornographer Playback (Pornographer series) 2021

* Does the Flower Bloom? 2018

* Ossan's Love (original) 2018

* The Shortest Distance is Round (Noir) AKA Saitankyori wa Mawari Kudokute 2019

The Shortest Distance is Round (Blanc)

The Shortest Distance 3: Fallen Flowers AKA Saitankyori Wa Mawari Kudokute: Rakka Ryūsui 2020

The Shortest Distance is Round 2: Rain and Soda AKA Saitankyori wa Mawari Kudokute: Ame to Soda Mizu 2020

* His the series: I Didn't Think I Would Fall In Love AKA His - Koisuru Tsumori Nante Nakatta 2019

Athlete 2019

* What Did You Eat Yesterday? AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? 2019

* The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese AKA Kyuso wa Chizu no Yume wo Miru 2020

* Dangerous Drugs of Sex AKA Sei no Gekiyaku 2020

* Love Stage!! AKA Rabu Suteiji 2020

The Reason Why He Fell In Love With Me AKA Kare ga Boku ni Koishita Wake 2020

The Reason Why He Fell In Love With Me 2 AKA Kare ga Boku ni Koishita Wake 2 2021

* His the movie 2020

* Life: Love on the Line AKA Life Senjou no Bokura 2020

* Restart AKA Restart After Come Back Home AKA Risutato wa tadaima no ato de 2020

* Cherry Magic AKA 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard AKA 30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii AKA Cheri Maho 2020

Post 2021 - A few lesser knows that might be worth it

Given 2021

Kiss Kiss Kiss series

The 8.2 Second Rule AKA 8.2 Byo no Hosoku

[tiredly101]

Could you do a story about reader (gn) who communicates w/ home like Wally does? Like they used to live in home like a year before Wally moved and reader moved out and came back from like college or smth and has a diff house in the neighborhood now? Like reader and home have full on conversations and Wally is just like:???

If not that completely understandable:) drink water eat ur fav food! And get sleep! ❤️❤️

Hello dearie! Thanks so much for the request, I did change some things so I hope you don't mind, and thanks for reminding me to go to sleep! But alas let's start with the fic!

Home is a language

Pairing: Wally Darling x Baker!Gender neutral Reader

Illustrated Au

Picture is from @qep0ermint!

Y/n has lived in home since they were a kid, if anything they loved the house and talking to it everyday and Home, that was the house name, definetly loved you. Home considered Y/n so kind, sweet yet hyper and that made Home overprotective of them. Maybe a tad too overprotective but they didn't mind; Y/n was sad to part ways with Home but it needed to be done since their parents needed them back home and so with a teary goodbye they left Welcome Home.

Home did get a new guest in its walls, his name is Wally Darling and it was hard not to love the guy. He was charming, calm and sweet, very creative too and soon Home took a liking to the character but never forgetting their OG roommate.

A year gas gone by and Y/n was finally back in Welcome Home, their house has finally been built and their parents were doing just fine without him again, they went to the university too! They even got a degree in baking like they always wanted and Barnaby has sent them multiple letter to let them know of how everything was going around there. They were beyond excited to meet the new neighbor that lives in Home, Barnaby said his name was William Diary? Now he remembers, his name is Wally Darling!

Y/n smiles looking at their new home while looking around their old neighborhood. Their house fitted in perfectly, it was a bit further away from the rest but it still looked perfect along the other houses. Y/n decided that they were going to walk around for a bit since the weather was crisp perfect but after some minutes of walking around they got tackled.

"Y/n! I can't believe that you are here, that you are back!!!," Screamed rather happily Barnaby, normally he would just be quieter if we compared him to Julie. Y/n chuckled and Barnaby picked them up after getting off them, y/n saw a guy behind Barnaby; he had blue hair put in a pompodur, some rainbow pants, a blue cardigan and the look was closed with a red handkerchief tied tightly on his neck. He was cute, definetly y/n's type if they had any in the first place.

"Hello, I'm Y/n L/n! You must be Wally Darling," said Y/n in a soft voice that left Wally speechless so he nodded as a response which made y/n smile while they thought something simple "so he is shy! That's adorable".

As days went by Wally and Y/n got closer, Wally actually invited y/n to his house today and was a nervous wreck. Most of his friends avoided going in his house saying that they were busy but Wally knew deep down that they were scared of Home.

"Hello Home! Long time no see," said Y/n smoothly as soon as they entered Home. Home squeaked and bang the doors in response and Wally was ready to go outside until he heard Y/n laugh.

"I know it has been a year Home! That is why I said 'long time no see' silly," said Y/n within giggle's and Home answer with some creaks from the floorboard and the windows opening and closing.

"My pops are good! Thanks for asking Home, I have really missed talking with you!," Exclaimed y/n happily while Home pulled out a chair for y/n to sit down and they did with a smile on their face. Home started talking with them and they started catching up but Wally was still standing by the entrance, confused as to what was happening.

When Y/n left Wally asked Home what was that all about and Home told him about their shared history while he undid his pompodur, letting his blue hair free.

Wally sighted while letting his head rest on top of his arms, hair flipped to a side and started smiling unconsciously. He couldn't get you out of his mind, something about today felt so domestic and he loved it. He could get used to it, with a dreamy sight he started thinking, maybe he could ask you out on a date? He should ask Barnaby tomorrow.

Here you dearie! I hope you liked it, let me know if you want a part two @whoamveye

[spacejip]

may i present to you... me!!

- i’m victoria! you can also call me vicky or vic - 20 yo, she/her, bi - virgo, infj/p - 14.09.04 - studying computer engineering to make myself a haechan robot 😋 (will regret later) - i’m from argentina 🇦🇷 así que también hablo español :p - i sometimes write (literally five times) #spacejip writes!! - this is a yapping account

ALSO!! mdni. i don’t always post all-ages-friendly stuff

i made this post for you guys to see what things i’m into ;) and also because i’m bad at remembering my own fav things, specially groups and ult biases☠️ but it’s because i love a lot of things (most of them oddly specific) at the same time okay?😔🤚🏼 i’ll just list them and you can hit my line if you like any of them or to talk about anything, really !! i swear i’m normal !!

🍃 - chase atlantic, the neighbourhood, cavetown, trueno, wos, cosmic kid - lemons, grapefruits and raspberries - volleyball - f1 (my dad got me into it by making us watch it every sunday...) - cats - autumn - mint flavored things - studio choom performances - it movie (1 and 2) - haikyuu, tokyo revengers, another - genshin impact, valorant, dead by daylight, league of legends, fnaf (not that i am any good) - horror movies, games, animes - writing, drawing, singing, dancing, taking pictures (literally anything art related atp, as a hobby tho)

i’ve been haechan biased since i found nct but since chenle wrecked so hard, i’d say i’m chenle biased now.

🍂 my fav groups and biases are: - chenle / haechan (nct dream) - taeyong / jaehyun (nct 127) - xiaojun / hendery / yangyang (wayv) - sion / yushi (nct wish) - sungchan / sohee (rii7e) - gyuvin / matthew (zerobaseone) - jaehyun / woonhak (boynextdoor) - beomgyu (txt) - sunghoon (enhypen) - ej / nicholas (&team) - minho (stray kids) - gaon (xdinary heroes) - yuna (itzy) - giselle (aespa) - haewon (nmixx) - rei (ive) - sohyun (triples)

🍁 my current obsessions are: - chenle (this will never change) - SION omg this man is gonna be the death of me - nct wish like, SO OBSESSED - making playlists i wont use at all - investigating new music artists / groups - kinda obsessed with birthdays like… wdym jisung (skz) has the same bd as me?? sungchan (riize) and yeonjun (txt) a day before me. and felix (skz) a day after me!!?? :3 - nct (couldn’t you tell?), project7 and park jihoon (and the dramas he’s in) - rainbow, my youth, box, to my first, go, love again, hello future (nct dream) - jyuugoya, under the skin, beat the odds (&team) - limitless, cherry bomb, gas, raindrop, ayo, chain, simon says (nct 127) - choo choo, nasa, tears are falling (nct wish) - 90s love, pado, universe, round and round, make a wish (nct u) - only human, ain’t no thang, kick back (wayv) - can’t get you (jaehyun) - tamed dashed, given taken (enhypen) - paranoid, i never existed (chase atlantic) - both 404 songs and honestly taeyong’s entire discography - songbird, the dance break specifically (nct wish)

that is all… for now 😛

[cumulo-stratus]

“Lend Me Some Vanilla?”

Pairing:spencer x Baker!reader

Description: Y/n goes to spencers house to ask spencer if he has any vanilla extract when theres a possible gas leak and no ones allowed to leave their aparment until the morning when someone can come check it out..

Warnings: fluff, one eensy weensy curse

Flufftober Day 14: Locked in/trapped

A/N: ik the "Gas leak" is shit but I couldn't figure something else out I'm sry guys😭😭

"knock knock knock" 

Spencers attention was pulled from his book by the sound a of a knock at the door. Wondering who it was- Spencer hoisted himself from his comfortable spot on the large leather couch to answer the door. 

“creakkk”

as the light of the hallway bled into the much more dimly lit apartment, a man in sweatpants, a white shirt that read “bad-ass baker” is a rainbow font (u know the meme font im talking abt), and an apron with bits of flower and egg splattered over it.

“hi im so sorry spencer- but i really need some vanilla extract- im on my last batch of cookies and i ran out. I would ask if it wasn’t super necessary but since i had to close my bakery because its under renovations right now, so to make money i’ve been doing orders and making them from home and i need to get these cookies done tonight im so sorry-“

“i have vanilla..”

spencer cut off his neighbors rambling, silently inviting him inside while he fetched the vanilla.

“thank you so much by the way, i can make you something as thanks!”

y/n stood awkwardly behind the couch, eyes surveying the room. spencers back was to the common area, his arm outstretched to reach the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Spencers body language was comfortable, as he and y/n had been friends since he moved in 2 years ago, and he knew the baker well. spencer knew him as the neighbor with silly shirts and a bakery, and the neighbor that gave him the extras that didnt get sold at the end of the day in little plastic take out containers. 

“Oh no its okay the leftovers from your bakery are thanks enough”

spencer said with a chuckle, and y/n laughed too. And just as spencer was walking over both y/n and his phones dinged from the pocket of y/ns apron and the coffee table where spencer had left it when he got the door. Y/n pulled out his phone, seeing a text from the landlord. As y/n read his face fell, getting the attention of spencer and causing him to ask;

“What? Is something wrong?”

“check your texts- Larry sent something about how we cant leave our apartments..”

The look on spencers face was one of confusion, and he grew even more confused when he read the text detailing that no one was to leave their apartment- at any cost because of a possible gas leak, meaning they had to send people to check in the morning- but until then Larry didn’t want to risk it. 

“soooooo.. what do i do know?”

y/n looked to spencer for guidance, wondering what to do. spencer didn’t quite know either, but being the rule follower he is he decided the best course of action was for y/n to stay. He also knew the statistics of gas leaks and how dangerous they could be- so he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“well, i dont know how safe it is to be in the hallways right now, its probably best if you stay here until morning, or at least for a couple hours until Larry can get someone in here to check it out..”

now if this was most anyone else y/n would’ve just declined and held his breath while he walked the 10 feet to his door down the hall, but this was spencer. And much to no ones surprise, y/n had been crushing on the FBI agent from afar for 6 months now. He was in love with his style, his apartment (from what he’d seen), his face, his hair. Y/n had a tendency to romanticize things, just ask his friends, and this was the perfect opportunity. So when spencer proposed he stated over night just to be safe, y/n agreed almost immediately.

“ya i should probably stay the night, just to be safe you know? And by the way, if im staying over night do you mind if i put my apron in your kitchen? i dont wanna get flour on your couch…”

spencer chuckled and nodded, using his chin to point towards the kitchen where y/n could leave his dirtied apron. After y/n left his apron splayed out on the counter, abandoned spencer chuckled at his shirt, which was now visible. When y/n noticed spencers laughs he looked at him confused, following his line of sight, and he was met with his shirt. 

“oh ya- my shirt? i got it as a joke gift from a friend- and i couldn’t help myself”

they both chuckled at this while y/n moved across the room to join spencer where he had taken his spot on the large leather couch back. Y/n plopped down next to spencers, sitting as far away from him as he could without it it being awkward- or at least more awkward than it already was. because little did Y/n know but spencer had been simultaneously admiring y/n from across the hall. And when y/n suggested they watch a show spencer took the opportunity to do away with the awkward silence, suggesting Doctor Who. y/n almost immediately agreed, taking the remote from the coffee table and handing it to spencer to pull up the show. 

Once the show had started, the lights of the TV screen illuminated the room while spencer pulled a blanket out of a basket and spread it out over both y/n and himself. And unconsciously y/n scooted closer to spencer, hoping for more warmth from the soft throw. Or maybe more warmth from spencer, who knows..

After a couple episodes, y/n eyes were beginning droop as he had been up since 5 am, baking. Spencer- the ever profiler- noticed this. But despite the fact that y/ns blinks were gradually gaining length each time- he kept shifting a little bit, trying to get comfortable. And now if it had been a couple hours ago when y/n knocked on the door then spencer would’ve never done it, not in a million, billion years. But now they had been talking and watching their show for at least 2 1/2 hours now, spencer giving facts and corrections, y/n giving opinions, for the pair to then debate upon. And spencer felt confident enough to invite y/n to lean on him.

“ you know, if your tired.. then i dont mind if you wanna lay on me- you must be tired…”

“ya- how did you know..?”

Y/n’s voice was that of someone who was already half asleep, the constant sound of the tv lulling him to sleep before spencer could even answer. But spencer didnt mind- he loved admiring y/n, his face so incredibly peaceful. And he thought to himself, ‘the cookies can wait till morning’, before soon doxing off himself.

The End 

[mahouplanetofficial]

Fun Magical Things To Do When You’re Bored 💖

Hi everyone! So sorry for the long break in-between posts, I’ve been pretty busy hosting my longterm roleplay and gearing up for my 17th birthday (which is in two days from now!!). To compensate for you guys, here’s a shorter post to give me some time to write longer ones in the future! This was requested by you guys on Mahou Planet- here’s a list of fun magical things to do when you’re bored!

💗 THE LIST

Make your magical hero self in different dress up apps! I posted a couple of examples on my last post, but there’s probably more dress up games you can find. It doesn’t have to be 100% accurate- as long as it’s for fun! Here’s my magical hero outfit (at least as accurate as I could get it) in Doll Divine:

Go location scouting for possible fight locations in your town. This can be done by either driving around (if you have a car/gas) or by walking past possible attack sites. This can also be a fun time to come up with strategies to take down your monsters! If you have a team, you can take them with you. You could also draw team formations for battles.

Make a Mahou hideout! This sounds a lot easier said than done. The easiest method I have is making a blanket fort and decorating it with magical items. There are tons of blanket fort tutorials on YouTube. The easiest way I can imagine doing this is connecting a blanket over two tables, then putting cushions and pillows underneath. You can always make this more detailed if you plan for your hideout to be permanent. I’ve also seen forts like this be done in closets, under desks, etc.

Go shopping for magical items! This is less financially friendly than the other stuff I have on this list, but window shopping/online shopping is just as fun! I recommend going to cheaper stores like Dollar Tree or Five and Below if you want to save money but still be able to look for magical items. The Dollar Tree in my town has sequins, gems, bottles, etc. for crafts. I haven’t stepped foot in a Five and Below in a WHILE but I heard it’s a good option! Auctions and thrift stores are also fun to go into. I got a Sailor Venus figurine from an auction a couple of weeks back!

Make a magical vibe playlist! This one is pretty self explanatory- making a playlist on either Spotify or YouTube that encapsulates your magical hero vibes. 

Make a magical Pinterest board! Also self explanatory and done with Pinterest, but you can also do this physically by printing and gluing pictures together. 

Roleplay! My personal favorite when I’m bored (considering roleplaying is my hyperfixation atm). The easiest way I like to roleplay is by making my desired self and my magical hero form as bots on TupperBox. Then, I go into a Mahou Planet roleplay channel and just roleplay. I also roleplay a little on ROBLOX as my teammates! You could even roleplay in real life, which would be fun if you have any irl teammates! I recommend joining Mahou Planet if you’re looking for roleplays to indulge in. I sometimes host public roleplays!

Watch a new magical hero anime! Self explanatory as well. You can look for recommendations on YouTube or ask around for some good ones to watch. My personal recommendation is the Girls x Heroine series! It’s free to view on PrettyTrad and YouTube (Miracle Tunes is subbed there). It’s a live action magical girl series marketed to kids, but I have just as fun watching it as an (almost) adult. Another YouTube series I reccommend is Rainbow Bubblegem! It’s a Korean animated magical girl show and another one of my hyperfixations. A couple of episodes are subbed on YouTube.

DIY your transformation device! Ties in with #4, and this can be even cheaper if you make this with household items. In a older concept I had, I did a DIY of my magical compact with clay and a compact mirror I got from Dollar Tree. If you intend on having a physical transformation device, I recommend doing this! It’ll help in the longrun!

Start a physical magical hero journal! You can make a journal yourself using paper and staples, or buy a journal and decorate it. Writing physically is a pretty good way to pass time when you’re bored. You could also make your magical hero journal your script!

For all my bakers and hungry people out there, make a meal based off of your magical hero self! This can be anything, from pastries to a five-course dinner. It doesn’t have to be anything restaurant worthy or fancy. Even buying a pre-made meal that reminds you of your magical hero self would be nice! A bonus would to be charging the meal with good energy before you eat it! My personal meal would probably be macaroni and cheese (my comfort food) and rainbow sherbet ice cream with sprinkles. Speaking of cheese, happy national cheese day :’)

Do a random good deed! Donate to a charity, hold the door for someone, offer to help with chores, volunteer, etc. Sometimes, you don’t have to think much about what good deed you want to do, as long as you help others! 

Start a magical hero blog! You can do this on Wattpad, here on tumblr, or anywhere you can think of to share your magical journey with others! It’s easier said than done having to remember to post (I’m a prime example of that /hj) but it’s also a fun way to interact with others in the community!

Change your phone/device theme to a magical hero theme! Bonus points if it’s your magical hero theme. This would be a cute way to let others know you’re a magical hero, and even better, have a chance to meet another in real life!

Join Mahou Planet! If you’re bored, and have Discord, joining my magical hero server is a great way to pass time! Wether you want to talk in general, bully Mudae, or voice chat, Mahou Planet business is a nice way to pass time. We’d appreciate it if you joined- we’re close to reaching 100 members!

That’s it for this pretty short post. Of course, if you have any other ideas or suggestions that others can do when they’re bored, drop them below! Reblogs also appreciated 💫 see you guys' next post!

(idols: nayeon - twice, karina - aespa)

[painsandconfusion]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Prompts and starters A collaboration with @wormwriting

[Prompt Masterpost]

“How much did you hear?”

Whumpee crouched and trying to stay quiet until they can slip away. Then the cool barrel of a gun pressing against the back of their head. Bonus for ~click~

“You know what happens now, right?”

Whumpee stumbling home, breath ragged and body in shock still. They stare at the liquor bottle - and without thinking, uncap it and start downing as much fire as they can stand. They don’t want to remember what they just saw. For everyone’s sake. 

Whumper shoving a bottle against Whumpee’s chest. “You’re going to want to forget that. I’ll check back in tomorrow to make sure you did.” 

Walked into the wrong bar at the wrong time - now they’re a vampire’s lunch.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who fucked up everything. Now I need to clean up your mess.”

The shaky hand Whumpee presses to their mouth to try to stifle their echoing breaths. Eyes squeezed shut so hard that they might press the memory of what they saw out of their mind.

“How’s about you and me go for a little walk, hm?”

“Sorry kid - boss said no loose ends.”

Whumpee stepping around the corner to see people and blood and heads slowly turning toward them. Seeing them seeing what just happened. Seeing the blood. Seeing them seeing the blood. Whumpee slooooooowwwwwly steps back, eyes stricken with horror-

“Can’t talk without a tongue, right?”

Whumpee driving in the middle of nowhere - how were they supposed to know it would be fifty miles to the nearest gas station? At least they can cal-......they don’t have signal either…

Whumpee flinching at each echoing footstep, tucking further back into their hiding spot. “I know you’re theeeeerrreeeee~ Come out come ouuuut~”

“You know this isn’t personal, right?”

And escaped whumpee bumping into Whumper completely randomly years later. The  s t a r e. Aaaaaaand run-

“What are you so scared for? I don’t gotta kill you~”

“Wh-y me?” “You were the easiest to grab.”

Stepping into a bear trap. 

Whumpee getting mistaken for a target. Tortured in their place while pleading all the while that they got the wrong mark. Of course, no one believes them.

“Know what you are? A liability.”

The random guy the villain shoots in a bar just to make a point. 

“Don’t. Move.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

(a few of these arent working so if wibbly-wobbly-whump or hold-back-on-the-comfort changed their blogs please lmk <3