endhawksgirlboss

Latest Posts by endhawksgirlboss

5000 likes!

Cool.

Reblog to have something lgbt happen to you this summer

hi darlings reblog to give the prev person a lil forehead kiss because yes <3

ITS SO CUTE!

One time, I emailed a teacher "Sorry arn broje cant rite tiday acrrdn ti soctr" It is the main reason I know I will never be ambidextrous 🤣🤣

Hey students, here’s a pro tip: do not write an email to your prof while you’re seriously sick.

Signed, a person who somehow came up with “dear hello, I am sick and not sure if I’ll be alive to come tomorrow and I’m sorry, best slutantions, [name]”.

Wade, if he is dating you, he probably supports it.

That, or he's INSANELY hipocritical.

Idiots

Instagram | Twitter

ALSO, LOOS AND LOOSE ARE NOT THE SAME THING.

LOOSE MEANS NOT TIGHT.

LOOS ARE BRITISH TOILETS.

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS UNHOLY PLEASE DO NOT MISTAKE THESE.

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

WAIT- I knew French was nonsensical but THIS IS NEXT LEVEL INFURIATING LIKE. WHY.

no language should be mocked other than french

Endeavour: What's wrong?

Midoriya: I'm in love with an insane blond who is completely out of my league.

Endeavour:

Endeavour: Well, that's embarrassingly relatable.

Shinsou: Yup.

Midoriya:

Midoriya: We should start a support club.

Aizawa, creating a groupchat: Way ahead of you.

The thought that Brucie Wayne and Batman being two completely separate entities that Bruce can code switch between has consumed me especially with the idea that he mixes the two together on occasion to fuck with people

~~~~~~~~~

*Batman and Superman searching a dressing room*

Superman: What about this thing, it looks suspicious?

Batman *full Batman voice*: That’s an eyelash curler darling

~~~~~~~~

*OG JLA revealing identities to newbies*

Green Arrow: Your turn Bats, who are you?

Batman having decided to fuck with him walking up to him cocking his hip putting one hand on his chest and in full Brucie Wayne mode: C’mon Ollie-Dollie you know who I am. We dated 💕

Green Arrow (internally): Modem noise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Recently revealed identities with Clark and Brucie being at the same party

Brucie: oh howdy 🤠 cowboy, fancy meeting you at this shindig

Clark *flustered* (internally): he can’t be Batman he can’t be Batman he can’t be Batman…

~~~~~~~~~

*Bruce getting a call during a JLA meeting*

Brucie: Oh! hello dear, yes of course I’m coming to your party I’ll see you later 😘

Batman: Our security measures need to be increased due to the number of criminals currently attempting to follow heroes to their base of operations

JLA *experiencing whiplash*: what.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*undercover Brucie and members of the JLA at a party*

Bruce *pretending to be drunk wandering over to the flash*: excuse moi but can I get your attention for just a momento😊

Flash *completely disconnecting Bruce and bats*: yeah uh sure sir are you alright

Batman *quiet but deep Batman voice*: there’s an assassin in the rafters

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

YES! OMIGOD I NEED THIS!

The only way I could accept ReNrUkI as a canon couple is if it was a ploy gone wrong. You see Renji had feelings for Byakuya, but instead of being upfront about it, he goes the fanfiction route and tries to date someone else to make his captain jealous, so what better way to get his attention then by dating his sister. And the only godforsaken way Rukia went along with this shitshow is because Renji bribed her with super exclusive chappy merch.

Things quickly get out of hand, Byakuya of course has words to say about whatever the hell he was looking at, but decided that having a bitch fit over it wasn't worth the headache, so he begrudgingly went along with it, hoping that Renji would give it up the asinine endeavor.

That didn't work and soon enough to everyone's amassing horror Rukia and Renji were engaged, reminder that Renji once again talked Rukia into it by bribing her. And once again nothing was more to Rukia than exclusive chappy merch, even if meant pretending to be Renji's side piece. She lived, breathed chappy.

EXACTLY!

I admit:

I have nothing against Renruki (because I would kiss Renji too, don't judge me)

But...

RENJI YOU MARRIED THE WRONG KUCHIKI!!

Jack [panicking]: This is bad! This is really bad!

Eve: Jack, what is it?

Jack: I kissed Bunny.

Eve: Woah… I owe Sandy so much money.

#61 for @rotgsecretsanta

It was supposed to be longer but i had to cut a lot since i couldn’t tie it off properly and now I’m at the end of the deadline! Sorry. It’s all over the place.

That he has them isn’t what makes it strange, everyone has them, the dogs, the deer, the horses, and people too.

~*~

There are marks on Jack’s back.

Every plant had its own leaf pattern, its own flowers, every tree its own unique bark, and every fish a flash of color in its scales. Marks were a part of being alive, of growing and changing, like a river cutting through a mountain, a storm battering a coast.

The world was made of marks and patterns.

It was just that, well, sometimes the markings are… different.

There were stories, of course, of marks being strange. Jack heard the tale of the white speckled moose that had chased his uncle’s war band nearly off a cliff in his youth. He had seen a white faced raccoon scuttle away as he had shook and waved about with his tree branches at the birds in their cornrows. He knew that marks could be bigger, bolder, stranger than everyone else’s.

It was just that… why did it have to be his?

Strange marks were a sign something else had touched you, something else was paying attention. People with different marks could be powerful, medicine people or great warriors, or they could do great damage.

Jack was always careful covering it. Even among his own people he was considered odd, the adults spoke differently when he was around, more reserved, and the other kids would sometimes slip and name him aloud what their parents whispered.

They loved him, it was a small village, some still migrating to and from their summer encampments, there was little room for animosity against a child, even one who as an infant had run naked through the snow unharmed.

They didn’t know what the marks on his back meant, but they knew an Icicle when they saw one. His grandmother was Tappan after all, her mark a spiraling line around her forearm like a coiled snake. She had fled from the coast in her youth, her family caught in the Slaughter of the Innocents that had left her and his grandfather orphaned. There always seemed to be people running away from something, even back then, and his grandfather had told them stories of their journey, of seeking refuge from the violence at the Pavonia settlement and been met with a massacre.

His mother had grown weak after he was born, his grandmother confided in him when he was older that he had been shockingly cold to the touch in their hands from the very first shriek of life, and the mark had stood out bold as a spotted skunk’s across his back.

His father was a runaway indentured laborer who had carried him in a cradleboard as he worked their farms alongside the women. In the colonies farming was menswork, and he had been traded between four masters before he had fled, here he was still learning his place. He was a giant in Jack’s memories, the man who named him and cared for him through most of his childhood,he had been the one who shared his own people’s beliefs about marks. That God had marked each person for their role in life.

The Nobility and Monarchy had their marks, and the merchants and trades theirs, and the peasant folk and laborers and the slaves all had their own as well. It was proof of God’s plan.

His father’s mark was a hazy uneven mound on the back of his hand that he had always called his Ship, talking of his plans to travel to the New World the moment he had seen the very first sails in the distance his first visit to Port.

Jack always thought it looked more like mountains, he had traced them often as a child, fingers memorizing every scar on his knuckles.

Jack remembered his hands more than he remembered his face.

~*~

The Golden Age was full of romanticism.

The Pookan Brotherhood always seemed like such an outlier among all the whimsy, preferring the stability of logic and facts.

It was a fact they were all made of the components of the universe, chemicals and elements, bits of stardust, gasses, and energy to move it all. Every race was shaped slightly different, forming in their own environments, their own differing habitable zones, but they were all products of their grand cosmos.

And in all of the natural world one thing that could be assured of was that patterns repeated. Fractals, spirals, waves, stripes. The Pooka all had different color morphs, different fur types, different body sizes, they already had so many different variations just as a single species of their planet, and they still sometimes matched. Combined with the diverse array of life forms from ten thousand planets it was only to be expected that some form of patterns repeated.

They as a people loved to paint their own markings, family crests and feats of strength, celebrations of achievements, places of birth, each culture had its own history, but they all regarded the birth markings as just another natural coloration.

But the Golden Age was the age of the Romantic, and the strange Constellan custom spread far through the simple power of Belief.

That somewhere out there was one who matched you. Mirrored you.

Was meant for you.

It was all nonsense of course. Patterns repeated is all, with trillions upon trillions of people across thousands of planets of course someone was going to be born with the same mark somewhere.

But… even the Pooka were intrigued by the numbers, when they started paying attention.

There were many long lived species among them, though the Pooka boasted the Oldest (only because Star Pilots lived such harrowing lives), and naturally a person could find their match if they lived long enough. The simpler patterns could repeat more frequently, but it was worthy of note that almost every lifeform had one singular spot, just one slight color variation, that was unique to every individual even of the most identical examples, and that sometimes that irregularity would match perfectly with another from an entirely different species, an entirely different world.

Pooka had no concept of souls, a body was made up of matter powered by consciousness, and if enough magic existed in the area of that consciousness perhaps an echo of a person could be left behind as a ‘ghost’, and perhaps that ‘ghost’ could continue to build upon that and create for itself a new physical form. This was the basis of belief after all, the layering of magic into a consciousness, bringing even distant stars grouped together into a pattern called a constellation, and breathed to life.

So Pooka would never ascribe themselves to the belief in this... Soulmate fad that was growing out from the Constellans culture and fast becoming the foundational lore behind the odd discolorations everyone shared, but it was a pleasant bit of whimsy. A little bit of illogic that harmed no one to indulge in, that somewhere out there someone was made up of the same bit and pieces of star matter as you were.

So if asked Bunnymund would never have said he actually believed in it.

But there was a twinge of… something… when he noticed two Pooka showing off their identical marks, finding each other against all odds and bonding over the absurdity of it all.

It was a nice fantasy, that someone out there was his match, as a war waged all around them and their worlds burned.

~*~

Jack’s mother had struggled to give birth to him, she was too weak to even nurse him in the weeks after and through most of his infancy he fed from his Aunties. They all adored him, as much as they did any child, and fretted over his strange mark, and the fading strength of his mother.

She recovered, eventually, though she was quick to tire for the rest of his memory of her.

He would run about to help her, as soon as he was able to do so. Fetching this, holding that, entertaining the other children when she was charged with their keeping. He adored her, and she never gave him anything but her love, and a good scolding whenever he went out into the snow in bare feet.

Her mark was on her inner wrist, a beautiful vine of leaves, the most distinct mark he’d ever seen. He loved to paint flowers on them as a child, and his sister would come to do the same.

His father fretted all through her second pregnancy, lovingly bossed about by his grandmother and aunties. Jack had been mesmerized by the idea of it, of a small new baby in his mother’s body. He had seen plenty of new babies, his mother was often carrying someone else’s cradleboard as they went off for one thing or another, and he loved to make them laugh until they sicked up. Pudgy little faces swaddle in soft fur and watching him with wide amazed eyes.

But this one was going to be his, to keep! A brother or a sister.

He had carefully built a turtle rattle in anticipation, under the amused and somewhat exasperated guidance of his uncle, and the avaricious eyes of several crows in the tree who wondered if there was still meat left inside it.

Jack sometimes fed the Crows, though he wasn’t supposed to. Fish guts were for planting, or the dogs, and if he fed the crows too close to the village they often made themselves at home, and helped themselves to whatever was not carefully watched.

So Jack gutted the fish he caught at a spot near the lakeshore and left them all the unwanted bits, and they in return came down to play and keep him entertained as he worked.

When his sister was finally born it was with a diamond on her foot.

It was a good sign, marks on the feet meant ties to the earth, to the land.

Jack would tickle her there, as they grew up together, he would tease her and cherish her and pinpoint her weakness with the accuracy only a brother could have.

As they grew up together Jack never forgot that the mark on his back made him different, even in the summer when the other boys stripped down to their skins he wore his shirts, he fed the crows, he climbed the trees, and he tormented the other children with his tales and his tricks, and he hid his mark from those who passed through, and he looked to others as any other child did.

Though they sometimes still called him icicle.

They would believe it until he died.

~*~

Bunnymund hadn’t intended to find peace on this planet.

He had intended to finish his assignment and get back out there and fight.

The Constellan Houses wanted a safe heaven, someplace far far away from anything on the map, from where the fighting is, someplace to send their children.

And their rulers.

Bunnymund tried not to think less of them back then. The Lunanoffs just had a baby, a young heir to a long and powerful line, and it wasn’t like they were going to be hiding away by themselves, they were making a refuge for everyone.

It just seemed like taking a fighter, any fighter but especially one as skilled as him, out of the battle to build a habitable planet instead of just hiding their ships in the asteroid belt of the same solar system was maybe a wasted effort.

But he did as he was told, entering the time stream to step out far ahead, in both time and distance, onto a planet he had hand picked to match their specifications. He had time, just enough time, to get the planet somewhat in shape before they arrived. Not enough to be perfect, no, but that’s what they had their Moon for.

He had planned everything perfectly, careful as always not to break taboo with Pookan time travel, and ensured the coordinates he sent out would arrive at the MoonClipper precisely when it needed to, he didn’t expect a reply. Even if they were ignorant enough to send one, it wouldn’t reach him until long after they already landed. Constellans lacked the ability to travel through time to reach their destinations quickly, Pookans had tried to create Time Machines for them to use as shortcuts, but the damn idiots kept fixating on changing the course of their own history. As if that wouldn’t unravel the whole damn universe.

Emotional impulsive creatures had to be safeguarded from the tools they could use to destroy themselves. Regardless of the fits they liked to throw.

Bunny knew he was being uncharitable, but he had been frustrated back then, knowing that there was a war going on to decide the fate of the known universe and he was all but banished to a distant unused corner, tending to a planet with no possibility of knees until he had orbited the nearest star billions of times.

He rubbed at the back of his neck, where the very beginning of his birthmark was, and felt it like a warm trickle of water ripple down the whole of his back.

Pooka marks always took up almost half their bodies, unchanging even when they shapeshifted. He had developed a habit of touching it after he had learned that sometimes its twin felt the warmth. Not that he believed in all that, probably another twist in the tale created by the widespread belief, but as the planet orbited and the star wheeled overhead and the lack of anything but the feel of shifting rock under his claws pulled his pack bonded mind taunt with worry he sought the sensation of touch more and more.

Maybe if there was someone meant to match him, they would feel his touch and find comfort.

Even in a fight for their lives.

But really if all it was doing was keeping him sane, that was okay too.

~*~

Jack had marks on his back.

He wasn’t five days out of the lake before he learned about them. He had been punted, quite rudely, into the mound of horse manure steaming on the ice after trying to introduce himself to someone who could finally actually see him. Not a person, he didn’t know what it was, but it laughed at him after seeing him attempting to talk to people and getting ghosted, quite literally, again.

Then it turned around and kicked him right into the pile, and laughed some more.

Rude.

It looked something like a horse, while also being nothing like a horse, and nothing like a deer or a bison either, but it was a pretty nasty piece of work and Jack had retaliated by blasting it in ice.

Accidentally.

Honestly he hadn’t even known he could do that.

And then he had gone off to bath in the river and hopefully get the stink of horseapples out of his clothes.

It was there that he met the crows.

He heard them laughing sometimes, the way the many hooves creatures he just froze laughed, but they laughed at everyone so he hadn’t taken much notice. Assuming it was just the sound they had made.

Then they whistled as he took his shirt off, and made a whole lot more noise as they came down to land beside him.

“Jack!” One cried in a high voice. “Your mark changed!”

Jack flinched back at the feel of claws on his shoulder and got battered in the face by wings as the crow changed trajectory, trying to land in his hair, and him trying to cover his head with his arms.

“Don’t fuss, let me look at you!” It snapped firmly, but not painfully, at his skin with its beak.

“Do you know me?” He asked, stilling as the crow settled, wobbling to keep its balance.

“Rude.” It replied, nipping at him. “Can’t ever tell us apart. Typical Human.”

“What’s a human?” Jack wondered.

“Stupid too.” Someone called from the trees, and the wind shook them, insulted. They seemed to enjoy it more than anything.

“Mark’s black now.” The crow on his head spoke up again. “Winter took you back, we wondered when it would.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack demanded, shoving his arms back into his wet shirt and then up over his head, bird be damned.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me!”

First people to talk to him, and its a violent whatever-the-fuck and a bunch of wise-ass crows.

“Do you know where we are?” He asked, brushing off the freezing water as it stiffened like wood.

“Humans call it Hawthorn.” The crow replied, settling on the crook of his staff to stare at him, “Or the Upperlands, depending on who you ask.”

Okaaaay, that was something at least, even though none of it made sense.

He had kind of been hoping once he heard the name of the place he was at he’d know something about it, the way he knew what a horse or a crow was, though he hadn’t the foggiest what the thing back in town was that kicked him.

“And Winter brought me here?” Funny, he was sure he had a million questions he’d wanted to ask when he was following around the people, now they all seemed to vanish as he realized naming the town gave him nothing to go on.

“No, Winter just took you back.” The crow explained. “You came from the ice.”

He remembered coming out of the ice in the lake, so he guessed it kind of made sense. “And what you said, about a mark?”

“You didn’t know?” The crow asked.

“It’s on his back!” Someone called from the trees.

“Can’t see.” Said another. “His head doesn't turn that way.”

“We all have a mark.” The crow told him. “Yours is on your back.” Then he pecked at Jack’s shirt. “Got any food?”

~*~

Humans were late to the planet.

He hadn’t meant to create something so close to the Constellans. He honestly didn’t think it would have been possible if he HAD tried, but here they were, bipedal sapiens walking about all over the planet before he knew it.

It wasn’t exactly his fault that they took him by surprise, the planet circled the star at a much quicker pace than his home world did and after the battle he had seen from the sky that had left the moon hovering in their orbit with no response on any of the communication frequencies, and no answers to any of his many messages back to the Pookan Brotherhood, he had fallen… into lethargy.

He had slept.

A lot.

And after he slept, and woke to still more silence, he had wept.

He knew what silence meant, when the MoonClipper was there in his sky, hull a mess from cannon blasts, and none of the anticipated missives arriving behind it.

It meant that they had lost.

They had been struggling already when he had been pulled from the line of duty, or else building a refuge would not have even been entertained, and now there was silence.

Still he tried. He sent out calls, sent out coordinates, pleading, reassuring, ranting at whoever was still out there.

Until it seemed that he truely was the last sentient life form left from the Golden Age.

And then, one day as he was walking his world after a long and somehow still exhausting rest, he found the makings of a home. People, so close to resembling the long lost Constellans that his heart had tripled in rhythm at seeing them, down to the pattern of their mark.

They were made of the matter of the universe, elements and compounds and energy, pushed on by consciousness and wielding magic through belief.

Patterns repeating endlessly until somehow all the right peices fell into place to make a near perfect mirror.

It was the very first human settlement of many to come, and for all the pain and disappointment they would bring to him in the ten thousand years he would watch over them, they gave him hope.

His mark burned where he touched it, a habit he could never manage to break.

~*~

Jack hadn’t meant to cause the accident.

Which was unusual because normally Jack loved to cause problems on purpose, especially if it was the very stuck up his own ass Bunny he was dealing with, but he hadn’t actually meant it this time.

And now they were stuck in the labyrinth of a man scientist… wizard… person who was trying to build a doomsday device apparently.

Because of course he is.

It wasn’t HIS fault that the grumpy rabbit had always made himself such an eye catching target for a snowball.

How was he supposed to know that he, and his fellow Guardians, were on Jack’s turf investigating old coal mines for clues? It wasn’t like he’d talked to them, ever, aside from Bunny; and Bunny had been pretty scarce since Jack had accidentally dumped an itty bitty little storm on his oh so special holiday.

Used to be if he stirred up a little bit of snow Bunny would come chasing after him to chew him out. Which was FUN! Bunny was a riot! He never managed to Catch Jack, because of course Easter egg hunts were a bit more important than spending all day playing at and mouse, but Jack didn’t think the guy would do anything serious if he ever did get ahold of him.

So the near forty years of radio silence and catching neither ear nor tail of the rabbit even on Easter had gotten him a bit down… which made him a little sloppy, a little more prone to just… chucking a snowball without paying much attention to the surroundings.

Bunny made SUCH A GOOD TARGET!

And now they were trapped.

Woohoo! Bonding Time!

Not.

Bunny was fun from a distance, but a stuck up grump was a stuck up grump and Jack was all in favor of fucking around and finding out so long as he was well out of asskicking range.

He;d learned that trick from the crows.

~*~

He was going to murder himself a frost sprite.

Bunny clawed at his own face in frustration as they sloughed their way out of the pit, absolutely covered in the stinking gore of whatever it was they had just had to kill. Some monstrosity the wizard had magiced together using animal carcases and stuck in a corner to be unleashed upon his enemies, helpfully caged off if you had actually breached the interior of the labyrinth.

Unless some asshole pulls the lever to lose them.

And guess what?

Guess what he was stuck with in this absolute mess of a situation?

Was it exactly that kind of asshole?

Yes, yes it was.

Jack, fucking Frost everybody, clap your hands.

If this goop dried in his fur it was going to be a BITCH to get out. “I should have let it eat you.” He growled as he pulled off his bandolier and tossed it on the ground, sinking into the sparkling fountain that Jack had been so sure had been a secret passage, one opened via lever pull.

Fucker.

“I mean, on the bright side we know what ONE lever does.” Jack, lacking any remorse, wiggled his finger at the remaining six. Let’s see what’s behind Door number two!”

“If you pull anything while I’m in here I WILL kill you.” Bunny turned like a viper and snatched Jack out of the air SO FAST. “I have had as much as I can take from you, and so help me if you don’t stop to THINK.”

“Fine, fine. WHatever.” Jack raised his hands, “No button pushing. Got it. You are so severe.”

He pushed Jack under the water and held him there.

~*~

It wasn't… it wasn’t anything really.

It was years later.

Years.

Jack annoyed the FUCK out of him. Why did Jack insist on seeking him out. Why?!

But after they had, kind of, worked together to stop a magical bomb created by a madman it was kind of… tolerable.

And then maybe a little enjoyable.

And then maybe, possibly, if only out of habit, Bunny had started seeking Jack out too.

And it wasn’t that he meant anything by it, he wasn’t hanging on Jack’s every word or considering if Jack would maybe enjoy some of the places he was visiting, but every once in a while he was struck with the fact that… well.. it was getting a little harder to get through his days without thinking about him.

He’d cracked wise at some event with the guardians and nobody had laughed, and he’d felt like an idiot, nothing worse than a joke falling flat, but what really stood out was that… well, Jack would have laughed at that.

Jack would have gotten the joke.

And didn’t that just bite.

So here he was, sitting under a tree by the lake Jack liked to frequent, as Jack ran down to the water absolutely covered in mud. Why humans liked to throw themselves into knee high slop at the first opportunity he didn’t understand, but Jack had apparently had a lot of fun at the muddying event, though he had primary participated to knock people off balancing posts to the slop below.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Jack called, shucking off his hoodie and tossing it into the lake, the white blouse underneath was tan from the clay heavy mud.

“Take yer time.” He drawled, flipping through his sketchbook quickly to disguise that he had been staring. It sounded a little too suggestive out loud, and he didn’t want to know if Jack had any kind of expression on his face as he said it.

He had offered up a shower at the Warren, but Jack got all cagey when Bunny brought him around, like he was afraid he was going to break something, which was never a good look on him. He preferred it when Jack was comfortable, even if that meant not sharing such an important part of himself.

They were… well they were friends now.

Right?

Jack had to know he wasn’t going to chase him off over a moss covered bolder.

He only trusted himself to look back after the sounds of splashing assured him Jack was busy rinsing himself.

There was a ringing.

In his ears.

A sudden disorientating lightheadedness that under any other circumstances he was sure should trigger alarm bells in his brain. Someone was fucking with his head, brain magic, or a curse, or blood loss. He fel this way with blood loss.

But it wasn’t any of that.

Jack.

All these years, he’d certainly never hidden his own, for centuries hadn’t even thought about them.

But Jack…

Jack had marks on his back.

[JackRabbit/FrostBunny Headcanons, Part 1]

1) Jack loves to cuddle up in Bunny’s fur, especially when he’s feeling down or in a bad mood. Bunny acts like he’s not happy about it, but enjoys it just as much.

2) Both have zero relationship experience.

3) Jack’s love language is words while Bunny’s is action; such as physical affection or gifts.

4) When they get annoyed or have an argument, the pair will spend time apart. By the end of the day, after cooling down, they meet back up and apologize, making up with each other.

5) They sometimes sit in silence for long periods of time, just enjoying the other’s company.

6) It took a while before either of them admitted how they felt about one another.

7) The one to make the first move and confess was Jack.

8) Bunny is an early riser, but Jack is not in the least. When Bunny gets up in the morning, Jack, still half-asleep, clings to him and it takes almost an hour to get him to let go.

9) After half a century of dating, Bunny asks Jack to move in with him.

10) They often have races in the underground tunnels to see who’s faster. It sometimes a mix up of who wins, other times it’s a tie.

FAIR IS FAIR

Pitch sits upon his throne and waves his hand nonchalantly towards the magic mirror. He begins to sip his deep red wine from the glass in his hand.

P: Mirror Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?

Mirror: There is but one fairer than thee.

Pitch spits out his sip and glares.

P: Impossible-!? Who?!

Mirror: Jack Frost. Features all white as snow and eyes of sky blue.

Pitch sees the image of Jack shown having such fun skating on lake ice.

P: Hmmm...well he IS quite beautiful indeed.

The man ponders his options for a silent few long seconds before grinning.

P: Well, if you can't beat 'em, MARRY 'em~

@bunnimew

(I thought you'd like this ;3 )

God: I feel like making a new creature.

Angel: How can I help?

God: Get me one of those cute little rabbits. Now pull on it.

Angel: Pull?

God: Really stretch that sucker out.

Angel: What do you—

God: Keep pulling till I say stop.

God: …

Angel: …

Creature: …

God: Okay, it’s gangly enough. Now show it my face. It needs to know things it shouldn’t.

The KEEP GOING part is where I usually get lost

“I’m finally going to write! I have a great idea!”

I just woke up. Turns out my phone wasn't plugged in all night.

Kill me now please.

HOW DARE YOU NOT TAG THAT POST! 😡

down, clark

Omg

I'm going to kill myself I just thought of smth and I hate it so like Bats doesn't have powers and Supes is basically a damn GOD so if they ever got together Bats would 100% be insanely insecure especially after he sees the whole Louis thing like he has a LOT of issues and obvi isn't entirely stable so he would see Clark w someone else and be so damn scared but act like everything was fine even though he WASNT fine he was the FURTHEST THING FROM IT but he didn't want to worry Clark or be a burden with his feelings so he would just silent cry at like 4am every night so he didn't have a breakdown.

And Clark KNOWS somethings up bc he can hear his heart stutter when Louis hits on him he can hear him stop breathing when someone asks him out he KNOWS goddammit and it makes him so mad that Bruce hurts so much and that he thinks of himself so negatively and I hate myself for this. 😟😢😭😭😭😭😭😭😢😭😭😭😭😭

This probs wasn't what the maker had in mind, but it gives me superbat vibes

Bruce thoughts.

*Bruce looking at his sons and his best friend*

Bruce: You know, if I died today I think I lived a fulfilling life.

Dick: Uh, no you are not allowed to die.

Jason: Yah, no we have like a whole 3 layers of trauma to work through.

Tim: Please don’t die, I have issues.

Damian: Of course you had a fulfilling life, look at me.

Clark: If you died today I would rip the earth open in search of a Lazurus pit and would force you back to life, I would drag you back to this world screaming.

Jason: Oh woa, you are like, more fucked up than me.

Izuku simply melted, I'm sure of it.

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings/Uh huh, that's right/Darling, you're the one I want”

Imagine this verse from the song ‘Paper Rings’ by Taylor Swift gets stuck in Izuku’s head and he starts humming it whenever he feels the urge to.

What he doesn’t realise is that he’s usually hanging out with Shouta when he hums it.

(Probably has to do with the fact that Shouta’s the only person he feels comfortable enough to be himself around.)

Shouta eventually hears the song playing on the radio.

His brows are furrowed and he could swear he’d heard the tune before, and starts to hum before realisation hits him.

He starts paying attention to the lyrics and freaks out.

Because Izuku has never said he wanted to get married nor has he ever given an indication he’d like to

And so, Shouta starts thinking about what the proposal would be like, who would propose, what rings they’d wear, the type of cake they might get, the decorations, what suits they’re going to wear etc.

He almost makes a PowerPoint presentation, but then stops himself because what on Earth has just possessed him to think about all this in great detail, and just happened to forget the most important detail of all.

He and Izuku aren’t even dating.

And he’s considering proposing.

He starts to panic because he didn’t even realise he had feelings for Izuku, as well as wanting to be married.

Until he snaps out of it.

His inner voice is giving him a pep talk (usually it’s got pretty depressing things to say, so this is a nice change) - Get it together, you’re going to woo Izuku and do the best job you possibly can, you are going to sweep him off his feet and treat him well.

Shouta start to feel pretty good and confident about it.

He plans a date, and also practices how he’s going to ask Izuku on a date.

He’s gone over it plenty and feels ready.

When he and Izuku are hanging out again, he waits for the perfect opportunity to ask.

His patience is rewarded and he gets his chance.

Except what he’d planned failed spectacularly because instead of ‘would you like to go on a date with me sometime?’, what comes out of Shouta’s mouth is ‘hey do you want to get married?’

Shouta is too busy dying on the inside and wanting the Earth to swallow him whole to notice Izuku’s reaction, but what he doesn’t miss is Izuku’s answer to his question.

Izuku said yes.

I love it...

So...

Much...

Semi-sequel to this doodle.

@krisingtons made a wonderful and sweet short fic based on this drawing! Check it out if you would like your heart to feel as warm and cozy as a cup of tea on a cold day.

First ever post!

Yeah, we gay.

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