#Peeling oranges is overrated

[fandom-lover2]

Badges and Bloodstains

Plot: Reader is a cop who has one memorable night with Raphael, but something in brewing in the shadows of the city that tests the strength of your character, and your love.

Chapter One - Silence is Overrated

-image not mine-

Chapter Two - Well That Was Unexpected

I unlocked the door and practically shoved it open.

Today had been one fuck up after another. All I wanted was some beer, too much ice cream to be considered healthy and a good night sleep.

Considering I wasn't originally planning on one, I wasn't tired and wouldn't be for a good while.

I was supposed to cover Hernandez's shift tonight, and he'd take mine next week, but then this afternoon he changed plans and only told me after I'd already left the building.

Now, I had taken my pre night shift nap and already gotten halfway to the station for nothing. Oh well, a night in would do me some good. Things had been pretty crazy as of late.

Drama back home, friends calling for me to choose sides in an argument, boy troubles with the situationship.

I needed a night of music, comfort food, and a good old 90s Disney movie.

Slamming the door shut with my foot, I hung up my keys and locked the dead bolt, heading into the apartment as I began to peel off my coat. "Yo April, you still he-" I froze.

Ok, what the fuck.

I don't even know how to begin to describe what I walked into, other than the fact that there were four not humans in my living room. Two on the couch, with April in the middle, another two on the floor. April's boyfriend was there too, the detective guy. We all looked at one another, waiting to see who would react first.

I took them in slowly. Green, no noses or ears, scraps of material wrapped over their eyes like masks. Each was armed with traditional Japanese weapons, and looked like they lived at the gym. They seemed to have large backpacks on their backs at first glance, but then I looked closer and realized those were shells. They were some kind of reptilian-man hybrid. Three fingers, odd three toed feet.

Well, ok then.

I eyed the pizza on the coffee table. Three boxes, each still steaming hot and drowning in cheese. Netflix was loading on the TV.

Huh, I go off to save NYC and they have a movie night.

"I thought you were working." April recovered first.

"Shift didn't get changed. Last minute stuff." I reached back and upholstered my off-duty gun, which had all four whatever-they-were's standing and scrambling either towards the window or rushing to raise their hands.

April and Casey jumped up too, holding out their hands as if that'd settled everyone.

I froze again, gun halfway to my side.

"Whoa whoa wait, they won't hurt you." April rushed out.

"Yeah well no fuck, they ain't eating you." Was my response as I continued to bring my gun forward. “Has no one ever warned you to not scare someone holding a gun.”

Ignoring the weird ass whatever’s and the alarmed looks, I knelt before the TV and opened the safe, unloaded my gun and dropped it in before locking the box.

I stood and everyone was still wide eyed and on a razors edge, the one with the orange mask halfway out the window.

"At ease." I mocked, turning and heading to my room. "Save me a slice, please!" I called just before shutting my room's door.

Changing out of my semi decent commute to work clothes into one on my step-dad’s old band shirts and some shorts, I untied my hair and headed back out. Beelining to the kitchen, I grabbed two spoons and two beers, then the tub of ice cream from the freezer.

Everyone was seated once again, but a movie wasn't playing yet and nobody seemed to have truly relaxed into their seats again.

I walked over, grabbing a slice of the margarita pizza and flipping it over so it made a sandwich with another slice and then popped them in my mouth so I had a free hand.

Tip toeing past the green men, who were still eyeing me, I opened the window and slipped out, not bothering to close it behind me as I climbed up the fire escape.

Once on the roof, I padded over to my spot on the far side of the apartment roof and sat down on the safety wall. Putting the glass bottles and ice cream tub down, I slipped the slices of cheesy ambrosia from my mouth and opened my sandwich, eating one slice at a time.

I took a deep breath in between bites, breathing in all the smog and fumes of this city and sighed.

As far as I could tell, I was only one of about 10 people who actually wanted to live to here. Whenever I told native New Yorkers I’d actually chosen to move to this city, they never understood why and looked at me strange. And considering the fact that half the people in this city wouldn’t give those green dudes a second look, me getting a strange look meant something.

But what couldn’t you love about this city? Nobody gave a fuck about anything. You could get breakfast at 2am in pajamas at the corner diner and find a dozen other people just like you, none even sparing you a second glance. And with so many people, you were just another blur in the crowd.

As someone who grew up in a small Southern town, with my entire life planned out by an entrepreneur father, having the freedom of an entire city as the tips of my fingers never ceased to not knock the air from my lungs.

I looked out at all the buildings, all those lights. How could anyone not find that feeling of witnessing all those lives coexisting alongside your own without ever crossing not awe-inspiring?

Below, horns honked and the never-ending symphony of sires filled the air. Music blasted from at least three different house parties, and some drunken asshole was stumbling around shouting. The sound of home.

I had just finished my pizza when I left a presence behind me.

"There's room for two." I called, shifting over despite there being loads on space on the wall.

I waited a moment, then another, and then the red banded one joined me on the wall.

I’d seen it, when our eyes had locked briefly when I’d scanned them all. He seemed uncomfortable, and not just at the fact that a woman with a gun was staring them down.

I couldn’t place why, or really care, but I could sense the need to get out. And when I’d slipped past them to get here, I didn’t miss the quick scan of my body.

I’d honestly been surprised it took him this long to follow me up here.

We sat in silence for a while, and in that time I opened my ice cream and began to eat, the other spoon an open invite.

I watched him from corner of my eye. He was watching the city with as much fascination and love as I did. But it was a pained sort of love. Like he knew he’d never be able to live without the city, but couldn’t stand to be spend another second trapped within it.

"Why two spoons?" he finally asked, taking it and beginning to eat.

"In case I drop the first." I answered around a mouthful of ice cream. “Last time I went back for a second, they fucking stole my ice cream.”

He laughed, the sound coming from deep inside him.

I felt heat flush my cheeks, ducking my head in the hopes of hiding my blush.

Because holy crap he was hot!

"And the second beer?"

"For the company."

He glanced over at me. "Who's company?"

I gasped when I finally took in his eyes. How could one pair of eyes be that beautiful? Amber irises that reflected the millions of lights, yet outshone every one of them. And they looked at me. Actually looked at me.

People moved out of my way, colleagues respected me, citizens and criminals looked at me with annoyance or hatred, or sometimes awe and fear, not no one saw me. I looked at him and felt like he was truly looking at me.

"Whoever wants to be." I finally had the sense to murmur, handing the second bottle to him.

He took it with a quiet thanks and brought the glass to his lips, me shamelessly watching his lips and almost groaning when he licked them after taking a generous sip.

Gaining some control of myself, I turned back to the city and tried to remember what was so interesting about this place. So lost in my attempts, I almost jumped when he spoke.

“So, why’d ya move here? April says you’re a cop. Small town not getting enough action for ya?”

I huffed a laugh, readjusting on the wall. “I was four the first time I told my mother I wanted to be a cop in New York City. Nothing else has ever mattered. Worked my ass off, and graduated from being a rookie last year.”

“Congratulations.”

God, could his voice get any deeper and smoother? And the Brooklyn accent? No fair!

“Thank you.”

“But why New York?”

I took a deep breath. “Don’t laugh.”

“The city of dreams?” he teased, smirking over at me as he took another sip of beer.

“Small town, everyone knew everyone’s business, my life was planned and on track to be like everyone else’s. But here, I can do whatever the fuck I want and no one gives a shit.”

He was quiet for a moment. “And let me guess, you fuckin’ hate it but are too proud to go home so you’re gonna tough it out a couple more years?”

I laughed. “Why would I hate this place?”

He turned to look down at me in surprise.

“I mean yeah, the streets are always so full, and you can never get a moment of quiet, but nothin’ beats that view. I can be who I want to be here.” I jerked my head to the building beyond, and after that, Manhattan.

He followed my gaze, and after a few seconds huffed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

"I do miss the stars though." I confessed, looking up at the smoke clouded skies.

I leaned back a little, casting a challenging look his way. “What about you? Why haven’t you left this shit hole?”

“You mean other than the way I look?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s the 21st century, nobody gives a fuck. You know how many furries and therians I’ve arrested.”  

He was quiet for a moment, then turned to look to the city again. “I don’t know. I mean, I hate this place but…” He trailed off, brows furrowed in thought.

“But you can’t sleep without the noise?” I tried, and smiled at the agreeing nod.

He looked at me for a few beats, eyeing me slowly. "Raphael." he introduced, holding out a hand.  

I shook it firmly. “Y/n.”  

[darkwitchoferie]

Han Jisung Fic Recs

The last chance – 4linos

All eyes on her - vampzity

Orange peel theory - felixbit

He won’t know (part 2 linked) - jisungiesvzz

Hannie’s fixations (first in the series, the others are linked) - felixknow

Unexpected? - jisungiesvzz

Foggy/Foggier - arislary

After Hours - jisunggy

Sitting Pretty 3 – kittentaegu

I want it Part 1/Part 2 – dollracha

Sensitive – channieshaven

Sweet Temptation – lorialia

Behind Closed Doors – champagnecherryblossom

An Unexpected Christmas – kittentaegu

Best Friend Han – bahablastplz

Toys with Han – dwaekkicidal

Study Break – biteyoubiteme

Sleepy makeout with Han – planet-dusk

Kinktober ’24 day 14 (somnophilia) – moonlit-stay

Pussy Drunk – jilixthinker

Strawberry Cake – tasteracha

I remember my 1st kiss – seungfl0wer

Didn’t know you’d like that – seungfl0wer

Everything has changed – weakformingyu

Jisung in Lingerie – cinhomi

College bf Jisung – lovscb97

Words are overrated – paperclip-skz

But I need to finish my work baby – moonlightndaydreams

Afternoon anime – moonlightndaydreams

Morning cuddles – linoxpudding

Angst to comfort – 0omillo0

Pregnancy - smellslikechahnspirit

Pretty Boy Confessions – xoxo-lixie

I think I misunderstood – valkyriexo

Body Talk – anylady-fics

Something like love – hanniebaeee

Jisung with a vibe - cbini

Desperate care – sheerfreesia007

Midnight madness – lixies-favorite-cookie

Not how friends act – 18wqs

Munch!Jisung – lov3yv4mps

Dirty talk with Skz – junglyric

Nerdy & needy – omyskz

Soft Nuzzles - ivyues

Hiccups & giggles – sheerfreesia007

A little bit sweeter – moon-ttokki-x

Just one more – ivyues

Moves too quick – sheerfreesia007

Tickled confessions – sheerfreesia007

Mornings with you (and low ceilings) - ivyues

Praise me baby – hans-wh0re

Pussy drunk Jisung – skzophreniic

Love bug – h4nj1sunggg

Mommy’s boy – secretneverland

Pussydrunk!Jisung – vampzity

In sickness & in health – sheerfreesia007

Pussydrunk!Jisung – seungisms

Body talk – anylady-fics

[s-h-sarah]

Lunchtime Break Snacks.

They got some CNY snacks from their neighbouring pizzeria and as an appreciation of his amazing dancing moves, Florena decides to...peel mandarin oranges! Yeah Parker should be honoured! (One of her love languages is peeling stuffs)

Uhhhhhh.....this drawing was supposed to be for the Chinese New Year (or was it called the Lunar New Year?) I procrastinate a lot that I missed sending this before February ended.... Oh well, might as well post it now.

Well....I'm not really good at drawing food stuffs soooooo the middle one are the mandarin oranges.

The left are pineapple tarts, which in my personal opinion, a pretty overrated confectionery for celebrations. And the right one is what my family called kuih kapit, kinda like a crispy crepe that you folded till it looked triangular until it hardens. Pretty tasty!

[danime25]

You Had Me At Soup

masterlist // ao3

*Summary: While in the Sierra program, Six never got sick. Now that he was adapting to civilian life with Claire and the woman he roped in to play Claire's mom, he seemed to be down with a bug of some kind.

*Rating: T For Teen

*Content/Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fake Dating, Pining, So Much Mutual Pining, Sickfic

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

A gift for a friend, enjoy!

Six heard the plink of fat raindrops hit the window of his bedroom. In between the rhythm of the precipitation, a splitting pounding in his head. He tried to sit up, but that seemed to only make the pain worse for him. His stirring woke up the woman beside him and she saw as he curled back up under the covers.

“Six?” She asked him. She sat up and her hand ended up resting on his forehead, “Oh you’re burning up.”

“I need to take Claire…” He made an effort to sit back up before deciding getting up was overrated

“I’ll take her to school. You have to rest.” She said in a soft tone. Sure it was soft, but he knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

“Okay.” He sighed, “Tell Claire I love her.”

“I will. I’ll go wake her up.” She got up and closed the door behind her. As quickly as he woke up, he went back to sleep. It was only a 30 minute nap, he confirmed so with a quick glance at his phone. He sighed and checked his phone,

“Sent 1 Minute Ago

Got Claire to school, be home soon.”

“Okay.” He whispered to himself before getting up to go to the bathroom. He looked like shit. He’d never been this laid up over the flu before, but he supposed his immune system wasn’t operating at 100 percent just yet. Something about the healing process after almost dying. He managed to muster enough energy to hop in the shower and clean up his facial hair but even that seemed like too much. He crawled back into bed bitterly and looked up at the ceiling. By the time he was back in bed he heard the door jingle open and she called out into the house,

“I’m home!”

“Hi.” He tried to shout back, but this only brought on a fit of coughs. She opened the bedroom door and came over to him

“How long did you sleep for?” She asked him. It was like she was a nurse doing rounds.

“About 30 minutes.”

“Six.” She tisked, “Get some more rest. I’ll wake you up after I’ve made lunch.”

“Yes ma’am.” He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. She stood by his side until she saw the weight of his body sink into the mattress and went down into the kitchen.

---

He jolted up in bed and looked at his phone to check the time. 2 hours and 14 minutes. Better. He got up out of bed and wrapped the spare blanket around his shoulders to walk down to the kitchen.

“Hey.” She turned around to face him, “I just finished… I could’ve brought it up to you.”

“It’s okay.” He sat down at the island, hunched over and rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Here.” She brought the tray over to him. A roll of saltine crackers, some soup that was warm to the touch but not scalding, and bowl of peeled oranges

“I could’ve peeled the orange myself.” He said to her, popping a wedge into his mouth

“I know you could’ve.” She returned his highly guarded sarcasm with a cold wall that worked just as hard to keep him out as it kept her inside herself. He wanted to break it. He needed to know how she felt… felt about the situation he’d pulled her into. About him.

“Thank you.” He replied after a couple seconds of silence. He took the spoon and blew on the soup before bringing it up to his lips. He let the soup linger on his tongue for a little too long just to make sure his taste buds were still intact. Practically the only sense of his not shot to hell. It tasted… wonderful. It was somewhere between made from scratch and straight from a can but the line seemed to blur. The pulled pieces of chicken were tender, but the noodles weren’t melting into nothingness. He tried to skirt around the piece of celery and carrots that were floating in the broth, until he saw her leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. He looked back down at his bowl and took a spoonful of the veggies up to his mouth. She nodded silently and turned around to start working on dishes. He had to force himself to get the celery down, but he managed to finish it and went back to savoring the fruit. He got up to grab a drink and she pointed at a glass to her side, filled with water. He nodded and took it back to his seat. When he was done with his meal he thumbed around with the cabinets on his side of the island to grab a piece of gum. He wasn’t able to find any so he grumbled quietly and went to rest on the couch. He turned the TV on to just flip through his options. It gave his fingers something to do while the rest of him was bedridden. He decided on something he’d seen a couple of times as a kid and just listened to it. It reminded him of days when he’d watch something with his brother… it was just what he needed to lull himself back to sleep. He woke again a couple of hours later when the house door opened. Clare tried to be quiet, but she couldn’t help running over to Six to tell her about her day.

“Hey, Six.” She smiled at him, “Guess what?”

“What?” He sat up

“You know that math test I was freaking out about?”

“Yes I do.”

“I passed it.” She pulled the paper from her backpack and showed it to him, “I got a couple of answers wrong, but I got the foundation down. I talked to Mr. Garcia about what I could do better next time, and he helped me figure it out.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He gave her head a little scruff, “Didn’t it pay off to work on it?”

“Yeah. You know it’s my hardest subject.” She sighed, “I just hope I can remember it for the final.”

“You will.” He reassured her before she stole the TV remote from the footrest in front of Six. She started flipping through channels before stopping on a teen drama of some kind.

“I know you’re quiet Six, but you’re not normally this quiet.”

“It’s fine Claire.” He replied

“He’s been sick all day.” His partner peaked her head into the room and explained to Claire

“Six.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve been taking care of him all day.” She walked in and put a fruity electrolyte drink in front of him. With his daughter and her looking at him, he took a swig of it and swallowed it down. It wasn’t bad tasting by any means, but his body wasn’t used to it. After he took a minute to grow accustomed to it, he drank it down quickly.

“That’s good.” Claire sighed, “You’ll be okay tomorrow though right?”

“Yeah. It’s just another Thursday.” He smiled at her, “I’m going to head up to my room. Let me know if you need me.”

“I won’t, get some rest.” Claire yelled after him as he was halfway up the stairs. Like a shadow, the woman followed him up the stairs and went to the master bathroom. He heard her rummaging for a minute before she opened the door.

“What did you do?” He raised an eyebrow

“Just made you a bath.”

“You saying I stink?”

“It’s good for the sinuses.” She replied as she got under the covers of their bed and pulled out the book she’d been working on for the past couple of nights.

“Fine.” He went into the bathroom and saw the water waiting for him. He removed his pajamas and sunk in as far as he could fit in the tub. He let his head rest along the edge and took a deep breath. Something peppermint smelling wafted through the air. It was relaxing. Despite having slept the whole day away, he could have fallen asleep there. Would tonight be the night? When he finally let go of all reason and kissed her forehead in a way only a husband and wife should. Would she give into the desperate pleas in his eyes as he wanted to be held all through the night? With a sigh he pulled himself out of the lukewarm water and grabbed a towel. He went back into the bedroom and saw her curled up to her side of the bed, resting her head against the back of her hand on her pillowcase. Slowly he inched forward and as he was about to kiss her cheek, he pulled away fearing she might still be awake. When she didn’t react to him in her space, he laid next to her on his side. He faced away from her and shut his eyes. He felt the weight in the bed shift but stayed still. He felt the tips of her fingers linger along his spine and her face pressed into his back. This being before her lips touched the spot where his shoulders met with his spine. He controlled the shiver he felt as she made contact with him and acted as though he was out cold.

“Feel better.” She whispered, the air pushing against his skin before she rolled back over. Six waited in silence until he knew she was fully asleep before getting up out of bed and walking down to the kitchen.

“I’ve gotta go.” Claire hung up on whoever she was talking to and looked over her shoulder, “Hi Six.”

“Hi.” He replied, sitting down next to her

“Aren’t you going to ask who I was on the phone with? Oh it was just a friend from school, don’t worry Six. Hey…”

“I’m fine Claire.” He insisted, when Claire picked up that he wasn’t responding to her usual dry sense of humor

“No you’re not. Is it because you’re sick?”

“No.”

“Is it because of her?”

“No.” He lied

“Six.” She sighed, “Just tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t have anything to tell her.”

“Well then you should show her.”

“There’s nothing to show her.”

“Six you’re so frustrating to deal with sometimes.” She huffed, “I need to go to bed anyway. Good night.”

“Good night.” He sighed as she left. He grabbed a pack of gum to chew on while he sat and contemplated. He couldn’t keep this up. This would breach every rule he learned in the Sierra program, to let himself be vulnerable with her and tell her how he feels. Still it killed a piece of him every day knowing that she wouldn’t crack before he did. “Why me…” He shook his head and went back upstairs to finish sleeping for the night. He woke up the next morning feeling about as well as he did the day before, if only slightly better. He was able to get up on his own, but at her insistence she drove Claire to school that day again. When she got back she did another check on him.

“Not nearly as feverish, but still high.”

“That sucks.” He sighed

“I’ll make you lunch again.” She said, matter of fact

“Fine.”

“Do you want something different?”

“Surprise me.” He curled back under the covers, knowing she’d tell him to anyway. She went downstairs and started making noise as she looked for an appliance. While she was distracted with that, he decided to hit the shower once more. He didn’t feel like he could nap again even if his life depended on it, so he decided to flip through one of her books she had finished while he waited for the smells from the kitchen to waft up the vents. He lost himself in the book though, because he saw her attempting to open the door while holding his tray of food. He rushed to the door and held it open for her and she quietly thanked him. He nodded and got back into bed. “Smells good.”

“Thank you.” She replied. It looked like she had more to say, but whatever it was she didn’t. He looked over the tray, the soup didn’t have veggies floating in it but was a pureed consistency with a bright yellow base. There were some spices sitting on the top layer, and without bothering to look at what she had put on the side, he dug in. It was warm and comforting, and it felt more nourishing. He put down the spoon and drank it straight from the bowl before muttering about how good it was.

“Thank you.” Her face cracked with a gentle smile. He moved on to the bread on the side, pulling it apart with his fingers and looked over at the bowl of fruit. Strawberries today. Not his favorite, but surely she had a reason to give him those so he ate them with the little fork she had included on the side. She sat on the edge of the bed as he finished up and he pushed it away from himself. “I’ll go take this downstairs.” She leaned in, and Six leaned in towards her. Her body not anticipating this, her lips nearly brushed up against his forehead. They both sat still and she darted her eyes away from his gaze. He took her head into his hand and forced her eyes back up to meet his. He let everything that he felt pour into his eyes before she broke contact and kissed his forehead. He took a hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. He held her hand against his chest before kissing it once more. She moved closer to him and tilted her head so as to kiss him before he stopped her. When she looked at him with confusion he explained,

“I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“Maybe it’s worth it.” She said before her lips made contact with his. He wrapped his hands back around her neck as he made an effort to deepen the kiss.

“I’ve… fallen for you.” He said, not wanting to admit how long he’s wanted this

“I have too…”

“Be honest with me.” He said, with the implication of ‘Bare your soul to me’

“Yes?”

“How long have you felt this way for me?”

“I…” She didn’t want to tell him, she had built this wall around herself and if she said anything her protection from feeling was gone. Six knew it all too well, which is why he wanted to hear from her first. “The first couple of months after you told me you needed someone to act as your wife was fine. I fell in love with Claire as though she was my own daughter the minute I met her…. And you, it felt as natural as breathing to feel as though we were in love.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve never had to act because I’ve felt from the bottom of my heart that you were my ‘one’. I was just afraid that you didn’t return my feelings.”

“I understand.” He sighed, “I’ve had feelings for you pretty much since the same time. The way you take care of Claire… when you chewed out the admin.”

“You like me yelling?” She raised an eyebrow

“It was cute honestly.” He smirked back, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man in so much fear before. I was a little scared too.”

“You have nothing to fear, my love.” She kissed his cheek with a smile as she pulled away, “Now… you should rest.”

“I should.” He sighed, “But would it be too much if I asked you to stay by my side?”

“How?”

“Just lie in bed with me.” He replied

“Okay.” She put his tray on the side table and got under the covers with him. They stared at each other before Six closed the space between them with her in his arms. She rested her head against his chest for a second before he said,

“I…”

“Yes?” She looked up at him with doe eyes

“I have to tell you, I wasn’t asleep last night… When you kissed me. It gave me the courage I needed to tell you how I felt today.”

“Oh.” She said before hiding her face back into him

“Can you… hold me like that?��

“You want me to spoon you?” She asked

“Yes please.”

“Anything for you.” She kissed his cheek before he rolled over. Her arms were like magnets to his torso and they pulled his back into the front of her body. She moved up in the bed so her head could comfortably rest on his shoulder and she kissed the back of his neck. His hand worked its way over one of hers and threaded his fingers in between the spaces left by hers. He took a deep sigh as he felt the weight in his chest lift. Sure he was still sick, but with her by his side he had a feeling that he’d recover that much quicker.

[godza]

actually ill go through my fruit lore.

oranges are the worst fruit on earth and i will not be having anybody disagree. i practically wrote my college essay on how much i hate oranges. i despise the smell. ive gotten better with it over time but it genuinely makes me gag. i hate those poetry posts stop peeling mandarins you dumb bitch get that out of my face. worst fruit you have to work for it. peeling isnt easy like a banana you have to get in there and get it all over your hands while you stink up a ten foot radius. i need to leave the room when i smell oranges. burns my nose. gives me a headache. if i could i would ban oranges. i despise them so much i cant put it into words. never tried them never will.

apples are so mid. apple juice is nice but actual apples are so mid. will not be having another one i last had one at age ten

watermelon tastes like nothing. sweet nothing. dont like it

bananas are the only fruit ill eat but i think i might be allergic to them. they make me sad too since i cant give them to my dog anymore. bananas have to be eaten in such a specific timeframe and its annoying. still like them even if they make my mouth buzz and my tummy hurt

strawberries are overrated. who gives a fuck. theyre cute but taste like nothing. the seeds look extremely gross and are uncomfortable texture wise

i have never tried any other fruit and i dont want to ever. can you tell im autistic

[loves-doses]

Dear Shanine, I hope this letter finds you in good mood after we've shared a meal we cooked together. Picture you, munching on the apple I peeled for you (since oranges have been overrated these days), our promise intact not to see each other differently after you've read the depth of my feelings depicted in thos letter. Precisely giving you this letter days after you express a desire for a different Valentine's Day, without chocolate or flowers, and I claim not to have anything special prepared. Your cute, sulky reply, not even attempting to lie, plays out in my mind. It's just my imagination, but it would be perfect if it unfolds as I've planned.

You may or may not realize how vast the world is, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have found you. You, the girl who never brings rain into my life, who doesn't engage in the he-said-she-said chatter from those around us. I've never expressed myself like this before, but I appreciate how you chose me over others. To me, we're like strangers strolling through an old town's glimmering streets. The air is cold, our breath visible. Lost in the festive vibes, we unexpectedly find ourselves in front of a large restaurant window, our reflections clear in the glass. Despite the hustle, we share a feeling of loneliness. It's strange, yet your eyes greet me as if to say, "I think I have a plan for us." I feel a connection, sensing that this marks the starting line of a long, long journey I've planned for someday. That day is here, and you're exactly the girl I prayed for, both to God and the night that often heard my yearning for you. When there's day my mind been consumed from night and tired, you, always there saying that you're always with me, I could never be unloved by you because I'm too tangled on your soul.

I, too, trying in every little chance to love you in tenderness despite, despite, despite. Now the pray changes, because all I want is we both happy and I hope when the storm come on our way, everything never change, everything remains the same while our hand holding each other. I love you, I will always holding your hand despite everything.

[a-sasi-selfshipper]

(Did this because I just wanna rant

About him⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️)

🍓Being anxiety is a full-time gig, but if he had to choose another, he’d be an author because he’s such a beautiful writer<3

🍒We’d spend hours wrapped up in a blanket, cuddling and smooching and probably watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. If we feel like going outside, we’d casually get some boba and then go back to cuddling.

🍎The grape juice that comes in a wine bottle not just because it tastes good but he loves the fact that it’s just wine without any of the consequences. ⬇️This is it⬇️

🍑He gets so guilty whenever I get him stuff and it’s adorable but I think he likes getting them, even if it’s just a small friendship bracelet I made him

🍊He would chuck it right back at me and say “Do it yourself, idiot!” But if I keep asking him he’ll do it with growing concern, asking me if I broke a finger or anything else that refrains me from peeling that orange

🥭He had a stuffed bat named Fang when he was young, so I bought another bat plushie I named Sprankles so we have matching bat plushies!

🍍If I could change one thing from his past, I wish he knew that he didn’t have to put up a villainous act to protect his friends at the expense of their care. That he knew we would love him no matter what.

🍌He prefers darkness all the time, but if he had to choose to light up a room, it would be covered in emo LED lights. He feels the big light thing is way too bright.

🍋(Nope STAWP THIS ONES EMOTIONAL FOR MEEE)He wants to change a lot of things about himself but I think the thing he wants most he wishes that he could stop worrying so much about every little thing, that he could just be easier to love.

🍋‍🟩After the black cat superstition, he ain’t believing any of that.

🍈 He honestly doesn’t really care. Leaning more towards the non-believer side but as long as he’s with us, it doesn’t matter whether it was meant to be or not.

🍏(ACE KING) Soooooo I think he just thinks sex is overrated and didn’t really think of it much until people started talking more about it and thinking it was another thing that was wrong with him. And then there’s me, who was labeled as asexual, that’s when he realized it was a thing to not crave that intimacy like other people desire. Now we’re in a happy ace relationship🖤🩶🤍💜

🍐He’s literally ANXIETY! He has ALL of the nervous ticks. His most common ones though are bobbing his legs and biting the inside of his cheek. He used to bite his nails but I keep painting them with bitter nail polish to help.

🥝Just some simple eyeliner and eyeshadow. He sometimes lets me do it when it’s more for casual reasons.

🫒He would give me little side hugs in public due to his shyness but when it’s just us he will just cling on to me. Trust me, it’s adorable.

🫐He’s a writer, and a very good one at that. Definitely right brain due to his appeal to reason and cautiousness

🍇Probably doing what he does when I’m not around, listening to my chemical romance while making extremely cool pieces of clothing.

🥥He loves writing and sewing clothes. He’s trying to learn how to play the electric guitar and DANG he’s learning fast!

🍅He would get/make me a life sized pokemon plush, and I would literally bawl if he does.

🌶️If I even have the faintest stomach ache or nausea, he will make me drink water. It does help a little though.

🫚he’s not picky at all. One thing I KNOW he will not eat though is any type of bug. He thinks it’s disgusting and hates the bug cruelty. Doesn’t eat green things as well

🥕Remus/Janus probably never fed him veggies in his early days, but will eat them if they aren’t green (pickles and cucumbers being an exception)

🧅Outside of panic attacks, anxiety attacks, and general anxiety, he doesn’t usually cry. I bring enough of the waterworks in books/movies for the both of us.

🌽He absolutely adores spiders and actually has a pet tarantula he calls Princess. He fears no animal FOR ALL OF THEM ARE BEAUTIFUL!!

🥦He REALLY hates it when people are condescending. His self esteem is already bad and it gets worst when people act like they’re the best.

🥒He has Socialphobia (Fear of being judged I think?) scopophobia (Fear of being watched) and Emetophobia (fear of vomit)

Aaaaaand I’m too lazy to do the rest

the ULTIMATE f/o infodumping ask game!

(this is gonna be a long one...)

🍓 - disregarding the career your f/o currently has, what other career would they consider going into, if given the chance?

🍒 - if your f/o and you spend a day doing anything, anything at all, what would they do and why?

🍎 - what's your f/o's favorite drink? any drink, alcoholic or non alcoholic!

🍉 - is your f/o religious? what's their opinion on religion or spirituality?

🍑 - is your f/o more comfortable giving or receiving gifts? why? do they have any preferences on gifts they like receiving?

🍊 - if you asked your f/o to peel an orange for you, what would they do?

🥭 - did your f/o have stuffed animals growing up? do they still have stuffed animals? do they have a favorite?

🍍 - if you could change any one thing about your f/os backstory/character, what would you change? why?

🍌 - does your f/o have a vendetta against The Big Light™? what kind of lighting do they prefer?

🍋 - if your f/o could change one thing about themselves, what would they change and why?

🍋‍🟩 - is your f/o superstitious? is there any habits they follow or quirks they have to follow said superstitions? like not opening umbrellas indoors to avoid back luck?

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

🍏 - if you have any queer headcanons for your f/o, how did they realize they were queer?

🍐 - does your f/o have any nervous ticks or idle quirks they do? like mindlessly tapping on a desk or fiddling with their hair when they're stressed?

🥝 - would your f/o ever let you do their make-up? what does their make-up process look like? is it simple? complex?

🫒 - what kind of hugger is your f/o? do they give good hugs? do they like hugs? do they like receiving hugs?

🫐 - is your f/o more of a writer or an artist? would you say your f/o is more left or right brained?

🍇 - if you and your f/o never met, what do you think your f/o would be doing right now?

🥥 - what hobbies does your f/o have? is there any hobby they would like to get into that they haven't tried out yet? what is it?

🍅 - if your f/o could buy you any gift in the world, whether it exists or not, what would they buy you? or, if they could make you something, what would it be?

🌶️ - does your f/o have any remedies they follow when they get sick? like taking a shot of whiskey to get rid of a fever?

🫚 - is your f/o a picky eater? is there any foods they will not under any circumstances, gun to their head, eat?

🥕 - when your f/o was little, did they dislike vegetables? do they still dislike them?

🧅 - what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

🌽 - does your f/o have a favorite animal? what is it? are they scared of any animals?

🥦 - does your f/o have any pet peeves? things that just really really get on their nerves? what are they and why?

🥒 - what's your f/o afraid of? do they have any phobias? anything minor they're scared of?

🥬 - what are some beige flags your f/o has? so, not bad, but not nessecarily good either. just. "oh. you do This."

🫛 - how does your f/o feel about pet names or nicknames? do they like them? hate them? what are their favorites and least favorites to be called and to use?

🫑 - how does your f/o feel about death? are they afraid of it? is there anything specific they'd like to do before they die?

🥑 - is there any niche topics your f/o is interested in? what are they and why do they like them?

🍠 - what are a few of your f/os favorite pastimes or things that they do when they're bored?

🍆 - does your f/o have a favorite scent? why is it their favorite? do they have a least favorite scent?

🧄 - does your f/o have any allergies? food or otherwise?

🥔 - does your f/o have any food dishes they make often? is there any foods you make for your f/o that they enjoy?

🍄‍🟫 - if your f/o could be any mythological species, what would they be? if your f/o is already a mythological species, would they ever want to be human?

I recommend practicing reblog karma ! people love infodumping about their f/os :) I also recommend sending more than one emoji at a time,,, there are Many here...!!!

[hidefire2]

❝ here, have an orange. i'd make you breakfast but i haven't gone to the store this week. ❞ ( jude )

@accidntals

"eh. breakfast is overrated." which is funny, considering she works at a cafe that only really serves the thing. it is basically every meal that she eats, because as much as she may hate the taste, she has never been able to turn down free meals. an orange is just fine compared to another one of the same, frozen breakfast sandwiches.

"y'want half?" she asks as she begins peeling. because speaking of being late to grocery shop, she has only just now noticed how bare the cabinets seem to be. even rain's have more than this.

[ammcgee-author]

237. Cliché Goth Song

Edgar Allan Poe ain’t got nothing on you,

Because you cry, and you sob, and you drink too much, too –

I want to howl and drink your blood, after midnight,

I want to bury you, and leave you for dead in the moonlight;

I want to do anything in the dark, if it feels right.

Like a ghost ship with a skeleton crew, I want to do everything only if it’s with you,

You’re like an oblong box full of teeth,

Let’s get married and live our lives so happily;

You’re like a mystery that Doyle couldn’t solve, a history of Dupin’s resolve;

You’re like a chess-playing automaton, I’d bet the devil my head that you’re never wrong;

Hop frog

I’d follow you around the world in a balloon, an imp so perverse; but don’t leave me so soon.

In a world where everything feels so untrue,

Fair as a Pharaoh;

You must be a mummy because I want some words with you —

Because Edgar Allan Poe ain’t got nothing on you,

Because you cry, and you sob, and you love too much, too —

I want kill with you,

and be partners in crime;

You’re a nihilist, in a world so sublime;

I want to soak in and absorb your disease,

Slit your hopes, and disembowel your dreams;

I want to do anything that makes me feel free,

When life is just a dull fantasy, of everything we wish it could be —

Like nothing really matters about our lives,

Like Eiros and Charmion,

Living dead in Paradise…

Because Edgar Allan Poe ain’t got nothing on you,

Because you cry, and you sob, and you’d probably cheat on me, too —

Put a hex on you, if a bullet won’t work,

Draw a knife on you, and then go be berserk;

It’s too easy to kill, and so hard to love;

I want to cast a spell, of love potion nine,

Peel you like a orange, throw away the rind;

Love is dangerous, but I ignore the signs…

I’m like a bird on the wing, flying under these raven skies —

Catching up with you because I’m always behind.

Because Edgar Allan Poe ain’t got nothing on you,

Because you cry, and you sob, and I know you’re crazy, too —

Like a cryptogram and a golden scarab,

You talk like an orangutan, but sing a cherub;

You’re so complicated and overrated, I know it makes you happy but don’t ask me;

How ghosts of your past will always haunt you, your friends and enemies will always want you;

I’m game as long as they never catch us, you’re strange in so many ways but you’re the one I trust.

A portrait hanging above your bed, like waking life hanging by a thin scarlet thread…

Because Edgar Allan Poe ain’t got nothing on you,

Because you cry, and you sob, and I know you’re insane for me, too —

A Mason with the jingling bells, a spade and a black cat hiding behind the walls,

Of your heart, beating beneath the floor;

Don’t let me go, because you know that no matter what I’ll always want more —

Like a cathedral in the forest,

They can hide, but they can’t ignore us;

Run if you can, but adore us —

Because Edgar Allan Poe ain’t got nothing on you,

Because you cry, and you sob, and you’d probably kill me, too —

I never know what you’re gonna do,

It thrills me, and chills me… I know it’s bad for me, too.

Edgar Allan Poe ain’t got nothing on you,

But I have to admit, the way it is, baby –

I’m scared of you.

— A.M. McGee

[Notes & thoughts: I tried to fit as many Edgar Allan Poe references as I could in this cliché goth song. The models I was trying to beat were the Wednesday Addams series, and pretty much anything with Vincent Price in it. All goth songs seem to reference Poe in theme or imagery, but sometimes lack the religious, spiritual, and metaphysical depth that his poems and stories had. This song was also inspired by the Goth versus Emo South Park episode, lol.]

[basichextechml]

1. Do you think you could take Viktor in a fight and win?

2. What is the stupidest lie you’ve ever told?

3. What is something you think is overrated?

Oh Viktor would beat my ass no question, I've got no upper body strength and I can't run very fast. I feel like he'd just swipe his cane under my feet and I'd be KO'd

The stupidest lie I've ever told was when my mum once mistook a lemon for an unripe orange and put it in my lunch box when I was younger. I peeled it and took a bite only to realize it was a lemon. I, being an asshole, realized I could play a very good prank. I told my friend that my lemon was one of the most delicious orange's I'd ever had, and they should have a slice. I pulled out all the stops, told them my mum grew them herself, that they were a special type of orange, and we got the seeds from Joshua Tree, the whole nine yards. They ate the lemon, and I had a bruise on my arm for two weeks after that from where they punched me.

You know those flower shop/tattoo parlor AU's. Yeah. I think they're really overrated. It's not that they're necessarily bad, I just think that they're overdone, and they fall really easily into cheesy trope territory. There are much better AU's out there <33

[sandersstudies]

Silly opinion: I also had no idea that people made the pspspsps sound; because my family is russian, we say ksksksksksks. I don't even know how to properly make the the pspsps sound, my lips Don't Do The Sound. Die-hard opinion: oranges are the most OVERRATED citrus fruit of ALL TIME they are SO HARD to peel and the taste THE EXACT SAME AS MANDARINS just EAT A MANDARIN and be DONE IT

Yeah dude oranges are like “eh, okay.” WHY do we eat them when mandarins are easier to peel AND mangos, peaches, etc. TASTE better

[longitudinalwaveme]

Looking in the Bathroom Mirror

It never failed. No matter how early Sam got up (and he considered himself a fairly early riser, especially compared to the Pied Piper), there was always-always-at least a four-person line to the bathroom, and, since their hideout only had one bathroom, this was a problem. (Sam would never understand why Len had decided that it was a good idea to buy a house with only one bathroom to serve as a hideout for nine highly unstable people, but he had.) At the moment, he was standing behind Mardon, who was standing behind Mick, who was standing behind Len, who was standing behind a whimpering, dancing James, who clearly had to use the bathroom.

“Who’s in the bathroom?” he asked Mardon.

“I think it’s Dillon, but whoever it is, I hope they hurry it up in there. I haven’t showered in three days,” Mardon replied. Sam frowned. Well, that certainly explained the smell.

“That’s really gross, Mardon.” Mardon shrugged.

“Hey, the less I have to wait in this line, the better.” Sam had to admit that the man had a point. Showering was nice, but it was definitely not always worth incurring the wrath of eight other people.

“I need to pee!” James whined loudly. Sam groaned. Why did James always wait so long to use the bathroom? He knew that there was always a line, and yet he always waited until the last minute to go to the bathroom. Len moved past James and banged on the door.

“You’ve been in there for forty-five minutes, Dillon! You’ve gotta be done by now!” Len snapped. The door opened a crack.

“One cannot rush perfection, Cold,” Dillon’s snooty voice announced. Then the door slammed shut again.

“Fine, but if Trickster has an accident out here because you’re taking nine years in the restroom, you’re cleaning it up,” Len replied. Five minutes later, Dillon finally left the bathroom, perfectly shaved, hair immaculately combed, showered, and fully dressed in a yellow-and-green striped tuxedo.

“Top of the morning, everyone,” he said in a tone that was probably intended to sound cheerful. Then he walked off, whistling “It’s a Small World After All” as he did so. James rushed into the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door behind him, but thankfully, Len managed to close the door before James made it to the toilet. A minute later, James rushed back out again. (He’d taken a fifteen-minute shower yesterday, so there was no need for him to spend a long time in the bathroom.) Len went into the bathroom and slammed the door. Then Sam turned back to Mardon.

“Are you sure it’s only been three days since you showered? Because you reek,” he asked. Mardon nodded, but then he frowned thoughtfully.

“Uh, now that you mention it, Lisa kicked me out of the bathroom before I could take a shower on Wednesday, so it’s actually been more like a week and a half,” he said sheepishly. Sam took a few steps back-and backed right into Digger, who had apparently joined the line in the interval. He also smelled bad, but this wasn’t unusual for him, as Digger had always said that he thought showers and deodorants were highly overrated. Sam sighed. Apparently, he wouldn’t be getting any relief for his nose for awhile.

“G’day, mates!” Digger exclaimed, much too cheerfully for Sam’s tastes (at least at 7:30 in the morning), but Sam decided to engage him in conversation anyways.

“You’re in luck, Digger. Dillon’s already finished,” he told the Australian.

“Really? How long did he take this time?”

“At least fifty minutes, by Len’s clock.” Sam had no idea if Dillon really had been in the bathroom that long, but it wouldn’t have surprised him, as the arrogant elitist never got out of the bathroom in less than twenty minutes.

“He’s got kangaroos loose in his top paddock, he does.” Sam nodded in agreement, used to Digger’s colorful Australianisms. Dillon was many things, but sane was rarely one of them.

“So, who’s in the bog now?”

“Len,” Mardon replied, evidently having decided to join the conversation. As if on cue, Len left the bathroom, still in his bathrobe and fuzzy polar bear slippers but looking decidedly cleaner and better shaved.

“Make that Mick,” Mardon added quickly as the gigantic pyromaniac ducked into the bathroom. At this point, Lisa showed up, wearing her pink satin nightgown and with her hair a tangled mess.

“Excuse me, boys,” she said as she cut to the front of the line. Mardon groaned. Sam understood why, as Lisa took even longer in the bathroom than Dillon usually did, but both men kept their mouths shut. What Lisa wanted, Lisa always got, and no one was about to anger her, her brother, and her boyfriend by refusing to let her cut to the front of the line. Mick left the bathroom about two minutes later (being bald, he was a fast showerer, and he rarely shaved), and Lisa entered. Thirty minutes later, she was still in the bathroom, and Digger had started doing his own variant on James’s bathroom dance. At this point, Mardon’s patience apparently ran out, and he knocked on the door.

“Are you almost done in there, ma’am?”

“No. I’m still applying my makeup. Beauty takes effort-not that any of you would know about that,” Lisa replied.

“Okay, but Digger really has to use the bathroom, so you might wanna hurry,” Mardon said as he backed away from the door. Thirty minutes after that, Lisa finally left the bathroom, hair styled, makeup applied, and wearing a lovely orange dress. Digger rushed to the bathroom, almost knocking her down in the process, and left it thirty seconds later.

“Did you even wash your hands?” Sam asked him.

“Nope,” Digger replied cheerfully. Then he and Lisa walked downstairs, and Mardon entered the bathroom. With all his companions gone, Sam groaned. It would have been so much easier if he could cut the line by using the Mirror Realm, but after he had accidentally “walked in” on Len once, he had decided that the risks outweighed the benefits (especially since Len had punished him for said incident by making him clean out the bathroom for three months) and stopped doing it.

“I’m singing in the rain, just singing in the rain,” a loud voice sang. Sam rolled his eyes. Despite his lack of talent, Mardon insisted on singing in the shower, and, since Mardon was also very loud, the off-key voice was hurting his ears. Thankfully, the bad singing stopped once Mardon left the shower five minutes later, but about two minutes after that, he yelled

“OW!” and emerged a few minutes later with a large bandage on his cheek. Apparently, he’d nicked himself while shaving. He went down the stairs, and Sam went into the bathroom, took a shower, dressed, and then started shaving. While he wasn’t nearly as particular as Dillon, he still liked to look good (or at least better than Len, Digger, and Mardon), so he was still shaving when the Pied Piper stumbled into the bathroom about twelve minutes after he’d entered it. The small man’s long, red hair was a frizzy, tangled mess, and he looked half asleep.

“Good morning,” Sam said cheerfully as he finished shaving.

“G’morning,” Piper mumbled.

“You’re up early.” Usually, the Piper never got up before 11.

“The roof was leaking.” Piper grabbed his toothbrush and then started to “brush” his hair with it. Sam stared at him. What was he doing?

“Uh, Piper? Why are you using your toothbrush to brush your hair?”

“Huh?” The Piper replied drowsily. He looked at his toothbrush in confusion.

“So that’s why it felt funny.” He put the toothbrush down and proceeded to fumble around for his hairbrush. After a few seconds, Sam handed it to him, and despite being half asleep, the Piper managed to tame the frizzy mess that was his hair enough to pull it into his usual ponytail. He then grabbed his razor and started shaving haphazardly. Sam stayed in the room and watched, both out of amusement and a desire to keep his teammate from accidentally slitting his own throat. When Piper finished shaving, he stumbled out of the room, and Sam followed him. It was definitely time for breakfast. When the pair made it to the kitchen, it was already a disaster area. Dillon and James were already almost finished with their food, Mick appeared to have burned three waffles and was attempting to toast a fourth, Mardon had spilled his orange juice all over the table and Len’s cereal and Len was screaming at him, and Lisa was pouting.

“We’re out of yogurt,” she explained when Same looked at her quizzically.

“Oh,” Sam replied, not sure of what else to say. He moved over to the refrigerator and grabbed two eggs, which he proceeded to start hard boiling, while the Piper blinked slowly, as though unused to the kitchen’s brightness, and then grabbed a banana, which he proceeded to take a bite of without peeling it.

“I think you’re supposed to peel bananas before you eat them, Piper.”

“Oh. Right,” Piper replied sleepily. He peeled the banana, and continued eating it as he stumbled out of the room.

“What’s wrong with him?” Lisa asked, still sounding annoyed about the lack of yogurt as she poured herself a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats.

“He’s not awake yet. Apparently, his roof was leaking, so he got woken up early.”

“What?” Len demanded, apparently having lost interest in Mardon (who was now futilely trying to clean his mess up with a ridiculously small napkin).

“The roof is leaking over Piper’s room, and it woke him up,” Sam repeated. Len groaned.

“Great. That’s just great.” Across the room, Dillon suddenly shrieked angrily.

“You disgusting, loathsome creature! I have told you a thousand times that you should utilize better table manners, and now you have spit food on my tuxedo!” he yelled at Digger (who had been eating his cereal with his face since Sam had arrived in the kitchen).

“Don’t care,” Digger replied (although he had his mouth full, so it sounded more like ‘onto coo”). Dillon stormed out of the room in disgust, and Len smirked.

“Serves that snobby lunatic right.” Lisa scowled.

“Lenny! My boyfriend is not a lunatic!” she exclaimed angrily. Len looked at the ground.

“Okay, so he’s not a lunatic, but he is really weird,” he muttered apologetically. Lisa shook her head and went back to her cereal.

“You were asking about the roof?” Sam prompted.

“Oh, yeah. Who’s gonna fix it? I patched the last hole in the roof, so I ain’t about to do this one, too,” Len replied.

“I’ll do it!” Lisa volunteered.

“No, sis, you’re too little. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Len replied. Lisa scowled and sighed huffily, and Sam rolled his eyes. He would never understand why Len was so convinced that his sister was a helpless little girl when he’d seen her rob banks and fight the Flash, but he didn’t feel like inflaming the situation.

“I’ll do it, boss!” Mick said as he burnt the waffle he had been toasting.

“That sounds good. You’re on roof duty, Mick,” Len replied. Mick saluted and smiled broadly.

“Thanks for letting me help, boss. You’re the best!” Len turned to Sam.

“When you’re finished with breakfast, go buy groceries.” He handed Sam a stack of bills. Sam groaned. The last time he’d gone to the grocery store, he’d run into Iris Allen and only narrowly escaped having her call the police on him, and he had no desire to go through that again, especially since she had also informed him that she carried a pistol in her purse. However, since Len already seemed to be in a bit of a mood, he pocketed the money and continued cooking, only for Mardon to throw up his hands and use his weather wand to create a wind that dried up the spilled orange juice. Unfortunately, said wind also knocked Sam’s hand into the boiling water.

“OW!”

“My bad!” Mardon yelled. Sam glared at him, but decided to ignore his pain and continue cooking. Len muttered something unintelligible that was probably supposed to be vaguely threatening but instead just came off as silly, given that he was still wearing his stupid polar bear slippers, and grabbed an apple, presumably to replace the cereal that Mardon had ruined. He continued glaring at Mardon as he ate it. A few seconds later, James finished eating and cartwheeled out of the room, narrowly avoiding kicking Digger’s face. Digger just continued eating his cereal with his face as though nothing had happened. Lisa finished her cereal and stuck her bowl in the sink, then exited the room, and, about a minute later, Sam finished boiling his eggs. He put them on a plate and sat down to eat them as Mick burned a fifth waffle and grabbed a banana, evidently having given up on being able to toast a waffle. Sam quickly ate his eggs, dumped his plate into the sink, and departed the kitchen. As he passed through the living room, he found Piper passed out on the couch, with the remains of his banana on his face. Sam took a picture, sent it to all the other Rogues (and the Flashes), and then went to his room. He sighed, steeled himself for his mission, and then traveled to the grocery store through the Mirror Realm. Upon arrival, he grabbed a shopping cart and started throwing all the necessary groceries into it. The faster he could get done with the store, the better. Seven minutes later, he was in the checkout line-a new record! He purchased all the groceries (a total of $570), and then started throwing them into the mirror realm. When he was done, he entered it himself, walked to the mirror that he used to get back to his room, and threw all of the groceries out of the mirror realm and into the house. Once this was done, he exited the Mirror Realm himself and used the same system to transport the groceries from his room to the kitchen.

“This is why I always send you to buy the groceries-you’re efficient,” Len said respectfully. Sam smiled. Compliments from Captain Cold were few and far between, so Sam appreciated this one.

“No problem. It’s easy for someone who has my way with mirrors.” By this point, the kitchen was mostly empty, but Digger was still there and shoving his face into what appeared to be his fourth bowl of cereal. Sam wrinkled his nose in mild disgust. Why did Digger have to be so...Digger?

“Doesn’t he ever get full?” he wondered aloud.

“Not that I’ve seen. Could be worse, though. You should see the way our “friends” in the red PJs eat,” Len replied. Sam wasn’t sure when Len had actually seen the Flashes eat, but since the Flash Museum blared the fact that speedsters had high metabolisms on the annoying PA system every five minutes, and he had been to the museum many times in attempts to vandalize it, he figured that the man was probably accurate. A series of loud bangs followed, suggesting that Mick had made it to the roof.

“Good old Mick,” Sam said. Of all his teammates, the brawny pyromaniac had surprisingly proven to be his favorite. He was quiet and friendly, and too dim to betray secrets or jockey for position, so it was hard not to like him, even with his destructive tendencies.

“Yeah, he’s good to have around,” Len agreed. (Last week, he had said that Mick was a liability, but then again, Mick had managed to catch the stove on fire last Wednesday.) The two men left the kitchen together and walked into the living room-only to find Lisa and Dillon standing in the middle of the room, locked in a very passionate embrace. Len walked over to them and cleared his throat loudly in that “I’m-trying-to-get-your-attention” way. Dillon reluctantly broke away from Lisa.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I want you to stop PDA-ing with my baby sister!”

“Lenny, nobody was here but us until you walked in! That’s not a "PDA"!” Lisa protested.

“Piper’s here,” Len said.

“Yeah, but he’s asleep,” Sam blurted out before he could stop himself. Len whirled on him.

“Whose side are you on here?”

“First, I never said anything to imply that I was on your side, so your question makes no sense, and second, I’m on their side. Your “baby sister” is thirty-three years old and fights the Flash on a regular basis. I think she can handle her boyfriend,” Sam said. Lisa smiled, and Len scowled.

“But he’s a freaking psycho!”

“Who worships the ground she walks on and follows her around like a lovesick puppy? Yeah, not seeing the problem here.” Lisa’s smile widened.

“Thank you for your support, Sam,” she said. She winked at her boyfriend and pecked Sam on the cheek (much to his surprise). He blushed, and Len glared at him.

“Stop encouraging her!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Sam protested, and Lisa nodded.

“Yeah, stop being such a grouch, Lenny. I’ll be fine. If Roscoe tries anything I don’t like, he’ll get a skate to the face,” she said fiercely. Sam mentally reminded himself not to anger her.

“Besides, I am no cad, Leonard. I would never force my beloved to do anything she does not wish to,” Dillon added. As if to prove his point, he stepped a few feet away from Lisa.

“See, Lenny?” Lisa asked. Len just scowled again and stormed off. Upon realizing he was gone, Dillon embraced Lisa once again and the two began making out.

“Uh, don’t mind me, guys. I’m just going to watch some football,” Sam said, and then he quickly exited the room. He had no desire to watch Dillon and Lisa practically eat each other’s mouths. He rushed to the den, only to find that Mardon and James were already there and predictably fighting over the remote as the TV played a rerun of Barney.

“Tell him to watch his stupid Barney show somewhere else! I wanna watch the weather channel so that I can make sure their forecasts are wrong!” Mardon exclaimed. Sam sighed. On a normal day, he would have insisted that they hand him the remote so that he could watch the Central City Cougars (hopefully) defeat the Star City Sea Lions, but the shopping trip had exhausted him, so instead he just said,

“James, as soon as the episode is over, let Mardon watch the weather, okay?” James nodded and smiled evilly. Some sort of Barney-related prank was definitely going to be played on the Flash (and probably Mark as well) in the near future. Sam left the den and went back to the living room, where Dillon was now showing Lisa a jewel-studded top. He ignored the couple and checked on Piper, who was finally awake again but still looked rather exhausted.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Ha. Ha,” the Piper said grouchily. He disappeared from the room, and then returned with a cup of coffee. While he drank it, Sam tried to ignore the constant giggling and kissing noises coming from the house’s resident lovebirds and awkwardly drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch that Piper was sitting in. About five minutes after Piper finished his drink, he smiled.

“Sorry for my unpleasant behavior this morning,” he said. Sam snorted. Of all the unpleasant behavior this morning, Piper’s had easily been the least offensive. Piper vanished a few seconds later (he was remarkably good at pulling disappearing acts for a man without access to the Mirror Realm or super speed) and then returned wearing a ripped pair of jeans, a green t-shirt, and holey sneakers, which was basically his civilian uniform.

“Uh, hey. Glad to see you up,” Sam said. He didn’t really know how to relate to the idealistic rich kid, so their conversations were usually brief and awkward.

“Thanks. What did I miss?”

“Digger being gross as per usual, a long line for the bathroom, a disaster area in the kitchen, a shopping trip via the Mirror Realm-we have yogurt again now-and Len freaking out when he caught Dillon and Lisa kissing. Oh, and Mardon and James fighting over the TV remote,” Sam explained.

“So, nothing unusual, then?” Sam shook his head.

“Okay, see you around, Sam. I’m going to meet Wally at the homeless shelter,” Piper said, as though a supervillain going to help people at a homeless shelter with his enemy was perfectly normal. Piper was a weirdo, no doubt about that.

“Uh, you have fun with that dumb goody-good stuff, I guess,” he said as Piper left the house. Not having anything better to do, Sam retreated to his room and pulled out one of his well-hidden JSA comic books and began reading it. Although he would never admit it to his teammates (the last thing he wanted was to share Piper’s reputation), he was a huge fan of the heroes, due to having loved their adventures as a child, and he just couldn’t bring himself to stop reading them now. His love of those dumb comics had once made his mother so proud-but no, thinking about stuff like that was stupid. His mother hated him now, and for good reason. The boy she’d raised to be a hero-hah!-had become a villain, so it was better for everyone if they forgot each other. That way, no one would blame her for him. She wasn’t like Len’s dad-she had done no wrong. He was just a creep, and all the chaos in his life was his own fault. In frustration, Sam ripped the comic in half, deposited it in the trash, and dove into the Mirror Realm. At least that way he didn’t have to look at his reflection. He stayed in the Mirror Realm until he heard Lisa screaming.

“Sam, get down here!” Sam sighed, emerged from the Mirror Realm, and went down the stairs and into the living room, where he found Len and Dillon in a Mexican standoff with an angry-looking Lisa in the middle.

“What is it?” he asked exasperatedly.

“Tell them to stop kissing!” Len barked.

“I don’t care if they’re kissing, Len. And even if I did, what would you suggest I do about it?”

“You could dump Dillon in the Mirror Realm,” Len said, sounding far too enthusiastic about the idea. Lisa frowned and Dillon gave Len a glare that could freeze even the Master of Absolute Zero.

“No, thanks.” Sam didn’t particularly like the snobby elitist, but considering the fact that Dillon was telekinetic, he wasn’t about to anger him.

“Sam, tell Lenny to stop treating me like a little kid! He listens to you!” Lisa exclaimed.

“Yes, do, and tell our “beloved” Captain that he is being unnecessarily hostile as well,” Dillon added. Sam sighed. How did he always end up playing the middleman?

“Look, Len, I know you and Dillon aren’t each other’s favorite people, but can you at least try to like each other for Lisa’s sake? Also, Len, seriously, stop treating your sister like she’s ten years old. It’s getting ridiculous, especially since my mom was married when she was ten years younger than your sister is now,” he said, trying to ignore the memories that the mention of his mother brought up.

“I am not doing anything! It is only he who is not trying,” Dillon protested.

“Oh, yeah, then who was it that called me an uneducated piece of trash the other day, your secret twin?” Len shot back. Lisa looked surprised and hurt, and Sam wanted to scream. Why were these people so difficult?

“I was only speaking truth,” Dillon said disdainfully.

“Roscoe, my brother is not trash! He’s a hero!” Lisa exclaimed. Upon realizing what she had said and how odd it sounded, she blushed, but she didn’t retract her words.

“My apologies, darling. I did not realize that your brother was so...highly esteemed in your eyes,” Dillon said gently. He wrapped his arm around her, but she pulled away.

“Of course he is! He was the only person who cared if I dropped dead when I was a kid!” she yelled, eyes sparking with anger.

“But he’s so barbaric,” Dillon protested. He seemed surprised when Lisa slapped his hand and glared at him.

“Yeah, and you’re a freaky weirdo with a top obsession,” Len said. To Sam’s surprise, Lisa frowned at him, too.

“Lenny! Roscoe is not freaky! He’s a gentleman!” Sam snorted. No one who had ever been on the receiving end of one of Roscoe’s attacks would ever have described him as a gentleman, but then again, he had never raised a hand-or even his voice-to his girlfriend.

“No, he’s a snooty jerk,” Len muttered. Lisa frowned.

“Both of you, stop insulting each other right now, or I’ll stop speaking to both of you and kick you both with my skates to boot,” she said icily. Len and Dillon immediately fell silent, something that would have been the envy of police officers everywhere had they seen it.

“Sorry, Sis. I still hate Dillon, but he does make you happy, and he hasn’t hurt you yet, so I guess I should try to keep my mouth shut when he’s not actively being a snob,” Len said.

“And I apologize once again, sweetums. I still believe that your brother is obnoxious, but his raising you allowed us to meet, so I will try to keep the abrasive comments about his background to a minimum,” Dillon added. Lisa beamed.

“See? Friends,” she said firmly. Sam sighed in relief.

“What did you need me for?” he asked her.

“Moral support,” she replied. With that, she and Dillon walked off, and Len turned to Sam.

“Wanna watch football?” Sam shrugged.

“Only if you can convince Mardon to stop watching the weather channel.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” The two headed to the den and found Mardon sitting on the couch, staring at the weather channel in utter delight.

“Change the channel to football,” Len barked.

“But I don’t wanna,” Mardon whined.

“Now!” Len barked. Mardon pouted, changed the channel, and left the room. The two watched what proved to be the last six minutes of the game and saw the Cougars lose to the Sea Lions, 29-0.

“Our team is terrible this year,” Sam muttered and turned the TV off in disgust.

“This is why I only watch the Cubs and the Combines,” Len replied, sounding equally annoyed. (He often made this claim, but he always watched the Cougars the following year anyway.)

“I’m starting to think somebody from Gotham put a spell on our team the last time we played them or something.”

“Maybe so.” The Gotham team hadn’t played in two years, due to being called the Jesters, something that had prompted the Joker to turn up repeatedly and attempt to murder several players and the team mascot, but they were still formidable in the minds of the other sports teams.

“You got anything planned, Captain?” Sam asked, more out of boredom than anything.

“Not for another two weeks. Sorry.” Sam groaned.

“You bored?”

“A little. Want to go bother Piper?” Sam asked, not having any better ideas. It beat sitting around in the hideout watching reruns all day.

“Sure. Just let me get dressed.” He left and returned five minutes later wearing jeans and a t-shirt that read “Cold” on the front.

“Subtle,” Sam said. Len shrugged.

“Hey, it’s not like Hartley won’t know who we are anyways.” With that, the two left the hideout and started walking to the homeless shelter. (Sam probably could have used the Mirror Realm to get them there, but most people who weren’t him tended to puke when they were yanked through it, including Len, so walking was for the best.) About ten minutes later, they arrived at their destination, only to be grabbed by an exhausted-looking lady.

“Oh, good, you’re here! Our workers in the kitchen are completely understaffed!” Before Sam could explain that they weren’t there to volunteer, she dragged the two of them to the kitchen, and Sam found himself with dishpan hands. For the next two hours, he washed dishes, in part because the kitchen was so busy that he could barely finish one plate before ten others were shoved into his hands, and in part because he had neglected to bring his Mirror Gun and therefore couldn’t escape through a reflective surface or threaten someone into allowing him to leave. Len, meanwhile, had been more or less pressed into becoming a waiter, and no one had yet listened to his angry protests that he wasn’t a volunteer. Sam sighed. He was never going to complain about being bored again.

“What does Hartley like about this place?” Len asked as another tray of food was shoved into his hands by a smiling teenager.

“Oh, you know Hartley?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Len replied, sounding as confused as Sam felt. What was so special about one volunteer amongst like a hundred?

“That’s so cool! He’s amazing!” she exclaimed dreamily. Len made a face and walked away with the tray, while Sam turned to the girl in the hopes of figuring out why the Piper seemed to be a celebrity here.

“Why do you like Hartley?” he asked, only to have to turn away from her as another person shoved two plates into his hands.

“Because he really understands the people we serve. A lot of volunteers, myself included, have a hard time relating to the people here because we don’t want to come across as rude, but he acts like he’s known them all his life. Oh, and he’s a total babe,” the girl replied.

“Yeah. There’s nothing better than a cute guy who’s also a nice guy,” another girl, who was cooking, agreed.

“Basically, there’s only one guy who’s cooler than Hartley working here, and that’s Wally. We’re really lucky to have a real-life superhero volunteering here, because it encourages other people to help out. He’s great,” the first girl said.

“And he’s super cute,” the second girl added. She giggled, and Sam made a face. The Flash was not cute, and frankly, neither was Piper. How had he ended up in a place where they were celebrities after putting in so much effort to avoid such places? He decided to end the discussion and turn his attention back to the plates. At least they didn’t remind him of how non-heroic he was. About ten minutes later, Len returned, looking oddly pleased.

“Why are you smiling?” Sam asked. Len never smiled.

“I found a new Lisa,” Len replied cryptically, and when the next tray of food arrived, he practically grabbed it out of the cook’s hands. Sam just sighed. He had a weird boss.

“Here you go,” a guy said as he handed Sam twenty plates. Sam wanted to scream at the guy, but knew that Len wouldn’t be happy if he caused trouble off the clock, so instead he just started to wash the new load of plates, trying to ignore the fact that his back was killing him because he’d been standing in place for over two hours. Several minutes later, Len returned, still smiling widely and apparently as happy as a clam.

“Len, I haven’t seen you this happy in ages. Seriously, what gives?” Sam asked as he finished washing a plate and had six more shoved into his hands. (By this point, he was pretty much on autopilot when it came to washing the dumb things.)

“I told you. I found a new Lisa.” Sam scowled. Why was Len being so secretive?

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” he protested. Len smiled again, this time a bit sheepishly.

“Okay, if you’re really desperate to know, I’ll give it to you straight. There’s an adorable little girl out there who looks just like Lisa used to. Her name is Josephine, and she… she don’t have a father worth speaking of, and, well, somebody needs to help her,” he said.

“Um...okay,” Sam replied. He’d long been aware that Len had a soft spot for young kids, but he’d never seen the man take this much of an interest in helping one before today. Supervillains didn’t help people. It just wasn’t done (unless you were Piper, but Piper was weird.)

“I’m coming back tomorrow-and bringing her some presents, if I can get them. Nobody who looks that much like my sister is gonna go without if I can help it.” Sam stared at Len in shock and wondered idly if the Piper had used his flute to somehow brainwash him.

“Whatever floats your boat, Len.” He personally planned to never come back, as, unlike some people (including Len, apparently), he actually wanted to maintain his reputation, but he wasn’t going to rain on Len’s parade, either. Len grinned, took another tray, and then exited the kitchen again. Sam rolled his eyes and kept robotically washing plates. A few minutes later, Piper appeared, beaming.

“I didn’t think you cared about the poor, Sam. I’m glad to see that I was wrong.” Sam almost laughed out loud. Was Piper really naive enough to think that HE would want to help people? Him, the scourge of Central City? What a laugh. There was nothing good about him.

“Actually, I came here to bug you, but then one of the people who I think works here dragged Len and me to the kitchen and I’ve been washing dishes ever since.” Piper’s face fell.

“Well, if you came here simply to bother me, then you deserve your current fate.” The man sounded utterly disappointed, and Sam rolled his eyes for what was probably the twentieth time that hour. Hadn’t Piper figured out that he was the bad guy yet? Did he honestly think he was a good man?

“How’d you even know I was here?”

“Captain Cold told me.” Given Len’s recent mood, Sam wasn’t surprised.

“Of course he did.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to your task, Sam.” Sam stuck his tongue out at Piper’s retreating back and continued washing dishes. Two hours later, he was finally relieved from duty (the shelter evidently really was very understaffed), only to find that Len didn’t want to leave.

“Len, come on! We’ve been relieved from duty! We can go!”

“But I don’t want to leave just yet. I’m enjoying myself.”

“Well, that makes one of us. Now let’s go!” Sam said. Len smiled plaintively.

“At least let me introduce you to Josephine.” Sam groaned.

“Fine.” Len eagerly led him out of the kitchen and up a flight of stairs, where he saw a children’s playroom. A tiny little blonde girl ran up to Len and hugged his leg. Sam examined her and decided that she did, indeed, look a lot like Lisa-and then noticed that she had a black eye.

“Wait… did her father…?”

“Yeah. He did. That’s why I want to help her out.”

“Hi, there, kid. I’m Sam, Len’s friend,” Sam told the little girl awkwardly. He was the last person who should be talking to the kid, what with a) being a villain and b) having a decent childhood, but he figured that he should do something.

“Hi,” she said quietly. Then she buried her face back in Len’s leg.

“Why did she trust you so quickly?” Sam asked. Len looked at the floor.

“I have scars, too,” he muttered, which made Sam feel like a bit of a jerk for being so mystified by Len’s uncharacteristic niceness- this girl reminded him of himself! No wonder he was being nice to her. A brown-haired woman walked up to him. She also looked a lot like Lisa, except for the hair color, and, just like her daughter, she had a black eye.

“Your friend is terrific. My Josephine adores him,” she said.

“I’m glad, but we have to go now,” Sam replied, shooting Len a glare to try to get him to get moving. Len sighed and turned to the little girl.

“I’ve gotta go now, princess, but I’ll be back soon. Good-bye.”

“Bye,” the little girl replied. She released his leg, and Len and Sam left the room and exited the shelter. They walked home, Len still seeming pretty happy, and upon arrival, they found that the roof had been repaired. They went inside-and found Lisa and Dillon making out again. Sam was hopeful that Lisa would be able to keep Len and Dillon in line, but just in case, he prepared to exit the room. He was shocked when Len smiled at them and said,

“Hey, sis? I just wanted to tell you that I’m giving you two my blessing.” Dillon looked at him skeptically.

“What is the catch, Leonard?”

“No catch, Dillon. I still don’t like you, but my sister’s old enough to know what she wants. If it makes her happy to be with you, it makes me happy, too. Sorry I’ve been such a creep, lately.” He shook Dillon’s hand, pecked his sister on the cheek, and walked off.

“What was that about?” Lisa asked.

“As far as I can tell, he has a new person to protect now, so he can see you as the adult you are. I was bored a couple hours ago, so I suggested to Len that we go to the Piper’s shelter to bug him, and he agreed. Bad idea, by the way, because we got forced into working there, but while we were there, he met a little girl named Josephine, and he enjoyed helping her, I guess because they have lousy fathers in common, so now he’s taken it upon himself to protect her, and since she needs help a lot more than you do, he can lighten up around you.”

“Fascinating,” Dillon said, not sounding at all fascinated. Lisa smiled.

“Thanks, Sam!” she exclaimed. She pecked him on the cheek again, much to his confusion. Did she think that he had intended to introduce Len to Josephine?

“I, uh, wasn’t actually planning to help you guys by going there, but I’m, uh, glad that the trip ended up helping you out,” he said. Lisa nodded, and then she and Dillon embraced and started kissing yet again, and Sam went to his room, exhausted. What a day. As he collapsed on his bed, he glanced on the comic book that he had thrown away, and he felt another pang of guilt. If Len could change his spots, and if he could help resolve a family quarrel without even meaning to, maybe-just maybe- he could change his spots, too. He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number that one of his parole officers had programmed into his phone years ago upon one of his many releases from prison. The phone rang for a few seconds, and then someone picked up.

“Hello? Mom? I know it’s been forever, but I was wondering if maybe you could talk.”

[midniter]

ezra furman transangelic exodus for the music ask game <3

Opinion on cover design: i think it translates the vibe of the album very well?

Favourite song: the whole album...... but if i had to choose, either God Lifts Up the Lowly or Psalm 151

Least favourite song: i would say Peel My Orange Every Morning but just because  it’s more like an interlude. Stil great, though 

Underrated track: the whole album fdkjdksf also the fact that she only has 378.779 montly listeners on spotify is revolting!!!!

Overrated track: i gotta say I Love You So Bad because it really is the Famous One, but it’s still a great track 

Rate: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10  12!!!!!11

BIG MUSIC ASK GAME

[stormypaint]

me: i dont like most ‘classic’ fruits

friend: oh, really?

me: yeah. apples are only good in slices, bananas are sorta overrated and underrated at the same time. only green grapes are good.

friend: what about... oranges?

me: oranges?

friend: oranges.

me, pushing aside piles of orange peels as i finish voring every cutie in my fridge: jUiCeEeE

[abrasife]

👍🏼 ana and fos

MEME ┊accepting.

DIANA

Their first impression of them: ❝ She was… odd, in a way. I mean, it isn’t likely for a stranger to call someone cute? Actually, I still don’t like the fact she thinks that. ❞

Their current impression of them: ❝ Well, it’s honestly hard to tell what the right thing to say around her is. It’s kind of tense. ❞

If they have the potential to be in a romantic relationship: ❝ I’m not really that interested in dating. It could be nice, but I really don’t know. ❞ [he says no to everyone; don’t take it personally]

If they have the potential to be friends: ❝ Possibly. I mean, I would like to get to know her better if that means anything. ❞

What their most attractive physical feature is: ❝ Umm, she’s overall aesthetically pleasing? I mean, Diana is Diana, and her look suits her well. She wouldn’t be her without that. Her fashion choice is definitely iconic. ❞

What their most attractive non-physical feature is: ❝ The confidence she has in herself. I wish I had some of that sometimes… wait, don’t tell anyone I said that! ❞

What nickname they have for your muse, if any: ❝ I don’t really use nicknames. ❞

How much they like your muse, on a scale of 1-10: ❝ Uh, seven? I don’t like rating scales to be honest. ❞

Out of character:

Do you have a song associated with the muses: me don’t have songs. It’s very rare that I think of something, especially since the music I listen to is very limited.

FOSSARIUS

** “he’s not here right?? I can talk freely?? I don’t want to get myself beaten up.”

Their first impression of them: ❝ I didn’t have one other than the one thought equivalent to an exclamation mark plus a question mark side-by-side because of that stupid cockroach he let crawl over my bad arm. I heavily freaked out, okay. ❞

Their current impression of them: ❝ … I… actually don’t know at the moment… ❞

If they have the potential to be in a romantic relationship: ❝ Hell no. Romance in general is overrated and a waste of time and with this person, no way in Mila’s good grace would I ever consider a demon who might as well be the same as those damned Rigelian soldiers who made me crippled in the first place. ❞ [I know this stuff references main verse things, but rating memes kinda blend the mindsets of verses because there is no set verse for them even if it would be implied by the muses involved??]

If they have the potential to be friends: ❝ As much as I want to believe he has some good part to him, he’s making it very hard. Knowing myself and my own stupidity, I’ll probably hope for it anyway. ❞

What their most attractive physical feature is: ❝ Nothing about him is attractive. Why would I find a guy attractive anyway? ❞

What their most attractive non-physical feature is: ❝ I find it hilarious he can’t peel a fricken orange, ❞ a smile forms on his face at the thought, ❝ every time I think about it, I can’t stop myself from laughing inside. ❞

What nickname they have for your muse, if any: ❝ I don’t have one for him. And either way, he’d probably break my arm if I used one. ❞

How much they like your muse, on a scale of 1-10: ❝ Oh great. I don’t want to answer this, especially not with people who’d actually hurt me for giving an unlikable answer,  ❞ but of course he had no choice in the matter, ❝ fine. I give him a… four?? ❞ He can’t believe he sounded so unsure after that stupid pre-rating ramble.

Out of character:

Do you have a song associated with the muses: see the previous note for this section.

[froggis-blog]

Amythest isn't always your friend

Witchy tumblr, calming is good and all but if you are doing a spell you shouldn't always be calm, sometimes magic needs fire, warmth and energy and lavendar amythest calming is the opposite of what you need. Yeah sometimes you want change to be relaxed and it is good for you but I see calming things used way too much, if it's a spell for peace and tranquility I understand. Lavender and amythest can help with anxiety and self care for that too but I see people use it for depression healing and things and something to calm you is like the opposite of what you need when you want to be in your bed or grave all day, use citrine, cinnamon, orange essential oil or peels, topaz, warm hot fire things. Same for money spells if you need it fast and need it now the last thing you should do is calm. Calm is overrated, get the energy, get hyped