#he genuinely gives me such a visceral disgusted reaction

[madame-mongoose]

STOP PUTTING MATPAT ON MY DASH‼️‼️‼️

[frostyhelltime]

Good morning/afternoon! Love your work so much! Could you write what reactions Vox, Alastror and Lucifer (my favorote trio haha) would have when they first realise they have feelings for someone? Like, they are not dating yet, they just got first "o sh*t" moment while eating breakfast or something.

Sorry this took so long! ❤️ Alastor's got COMPLETELY away from me and did not end up being as small as Lucifer and Vox, so I'm gonna give Alastor his own post which you can find HERE.

And thank you!! You're so kind and I hope you like my writing for this as well! I had a lot of fun so feel free to send more requests! ❤️

Vox and Lucifer Realize They Have Feelings For You

Vox x GN!Reader

Lucifer x GN!Reader

Vox

Vox genuinely confuses his feelings of love with simple lust and friendship for the longest time.

It's his possessive nature that helps him realize it's actual feelings instead of just something sexual he wants.

Plus a little ribbing from Valentino and Velvette when that possessive nature shows.

Whether you've had sex with him or not yet is irrelevant. He thinks what he feels for you is just lust, and you get along well and don't frustrate him like his cohorts often do. So obviously he enjoys having you by his side and spending time with you.

But it's Valentino's pushing and prodding that makes him realize, and as soon as he does actually realize it, he goes into planning mode.

Vox wasn't always the biggest fan of the loud club the trio found themselves at, but the music was a little quieter in this VIP section away from the crowds. Which made it a lot easier to actually relax with the drink in his hand as he listens to Valentino chatter about something he's only half listening to until he says your name.

He thinks perhaps Val hadn't noticed, but the way Vox's eyes clearly focused in on Valentino when they hadn't been before says everything, and Vox decides not to comment on the shit-eating grin the moth is wearing.

"Sorry. What did you say about them?" He asks for clarification, since all he actually zoned back in for was your name.

“They're very beautiful, no? I think I'll ask them to star in something. I already have a script that would be perfect for the-” Val is about to continue talking about it when Vox immediately snaps, posture becoming rigid as he speaks before he can even realize what he's saying.

“Fuck no Val.” His face has a look of genuine disgust and the visceral way he responded even has Velvette looking up from her phone for a moment, especially after hearing the distortion in his voice. She's eyeing him to try and figure out what the reaction was for.

Valentino only blinks a few times as if processing actually being told no, and then trying to figure out why. But as soon as it hits him the befuddled expression turns to one of delighted bemusement, snickering as he grinned saliciously at Vox.

“Oh~ I didn't realize you had a little amorcito you were hiding from us.” Valentino sounds so smug as he uses his long cigarette to tilt Vox's face up to see him better. Velvette just snorts a laugh, putting her phone down fully now. This was far more entertaining.

But Vox still didn't get the memo yet apparently.

“Amor…? What. No. We're not dating. I have no idea what you're talking about but you're not asking them to star in one of your flicks.” Vox says concretely even though he's very confused by Valentino's suggestion, pushing the cigarette away from his face in annoyance. Velvette just raises an eyebrow, locking eyes with Val as if to silently ask if their companion was truly this dumb. At least in this area. Val just shrugs and Vox watches this silent exchange, just becoming more vexed by it.

“What?! I can't say someone is off limits?!” He's quickly getting annoyed by the way they're both acting.

“Oh no no. You can ask for someone to be off limits….but no one asks for just anyone to be off limits.” Velvette explains, trying to lead this horse to water, trying to coax his line of thinking in the right direction.

“Well duh. They're great company and I don't want Val or his people ruining that.” Vox says coolly, trying to reel himself back in to maintain his composure.

“Oh, so it's just Val and his lackeys you don't want being intimate with them? Then it should be fair game for me to throw my hat in the ring, yeah?” Velvette asks, tilting her head cockily, a knowing smirk on her face. She didn't actually want to pursue you. She was just baiting him.

"We'd be the cutest couple on Sinstagram don't you-"

But Vox is immediately snapping, taking said bait without even realizing.

“No!”

Another, heavier voice distortion colors the word.

“So it's anyone being with them that pisses you off? That sounds like a genuine crush, not just ‘great company’, campañero~” Valentino takes another drag of his cigarette before taking another sip of his drink, adjusting the busty demon currently sitting on his lap to be his eye candy and thing to squeeze tonight.

Said demon is pointedly avoiding all of their eyes, as if to silently tell them she doesn't hear shit and she won't be repeating anything she hears herself. She values her afterlife enough to know to not mention this to anyone.

Vox’s expression goes through multiple stages, indignation, surprise, confusion, amusement, disbelief, annoyance, and eventually…

“...Holy shit.” He eventually whispers leaning back in his seat, eyes wide as Velvette claps.

“Theeeeere it is! Knew you'd get there eventually.” She snickers, as well as Val, both ignoring the pointed glare Vox was sending them now.

He's not even going to bother dignifying it with a response. He wouldn't give them the pleasure.

For now he just leans back further, grumpily folding his arms and continuing to sip his drink as he thinks.

Now that he's aware he can figure out what to do. Like there is anything to figure out anyway. He's charismatic and rich and powerful. What sinner wouldn't want to be the one to earn his affections? With that certainty in his mind at least, he loosens up a little, relaxing. Surely he can approach you tomorrow. For now he'll just relax here, and let Velvette and Valentino have their silly little laugh while they can enjoy it.

Lucifer

He's the fastest to realize.

Partially because he's actually been in love before so he's familiar with the feeling.

But he's also the first to panic because of it, wondering what Charlie will think.

Their relationship was just beginning to rebuild itself and he's scared about what such a big change would do to what he's rebuilt so far.

He most likely realizes when he's talking to Charlie actually.

Charlie is talking about how much she loves Vaggie, how everything reminds Charlie of her, or how if she sees something wonderful her immediate thought is that she wants to bring Vaggie there.

She's just talking about how she just loves Vaggie so much she just wants to share everything with her, boring and exciting!

And that is when it clicks for him, eyes widening.

“And despite the people of Cannibal Town being…interesting…They have amazing gardens and a gazebo and I can't wait to surprise Vaggie with a date there!” Charlie is talking at the typical fast pace she does when she is immeasurably excited, Lucifer just grinning and nodding along and just enjoying her sharing news about her life with him. There was so much he felt he still didn't know about his daughter and he was very eager to make up for lost time.

“And I heard this amazing new song that made me think of her! It went something like….Oh how did it go...?” Charlie trails off before attempting to sing what words she did remember.

“Or something like that! Anyways! Ugh I even love just sitting next to her while I write out new trust exercises!” She gushes, clasping her hands together as she continues to wax poetic about Vaggie. Others in the hotel didn't really care or were just tired of hearing it, and Lucifer wanted to spend time with her regardless of what they spent the time doing. So it made sense she would gush about her wonderful girlfriend to her dad, who patiently and happily listened to almost anything she wanted to talk about.

At some point during this monologue that he nodded and made noises of acknowledgement during, he stiffened, eyes widening as he realized the parallels between Charlie and himself that he hadn't really thought about before now.

Whenever he saw a pretty part of Pentagram City, his first thought was to show you. When he tried a new restaurant, his thought afterwards was always ‘Good enough to take you there.’ or ‘Not good enough to take you there.’ He adores the time when you're just sitting next to him, reading a book, or drawing, or whatever strikes your fancy that day as he toils away at his latest invention. He just enjoys…existing with you, even if no one is talking. Even mundane things like what he did that morning are things he finds he wants to share with you…he hears songs of love and happiness and his thoughts drift to you without even realizing until the song is over. If all of those things are things Charlie feels about Vaggie…then…

Fuck.

When did this even happen?! At what point did you turn from just a delightful part of his day to a required part of his day? How long has he had these feelings?! Why didn't he realize he had these feelings?!

Okay! No need to panic! He's been in love before. He can handle this. Right? He's the king of hell. Surely he can handle some feelings. He had been in love before!

…Except back then it had been completely obvious the feeling was reciprocated because they literally fell to hell together.

He's still panicking a little inwardly but…perhaps Charlie could help with some suggestions? He doesn't really know if he trusts anyone else to ask them that vulnerable of a question. To expose a weak point a sinner could gleefully take advantage of, to put you in harm's way. He also trusts you of course, but for obvious reasons he can't discuss that with you.

He realizes in his panicked internal monologue he's missed a good chunk of what Charlie has just said, and she realized it too, judging by the concerned look on her face.

“Dad? You in there?” She asks, leaning over him and waving a hand in front of his face to try and grab his attention, smiling when his eyes focused back on her.

"Whew! Thought I lost you there!" She laughs, shoulders relaxing now that he seems to be okay.

“Yes! I'm right here CharChar! Uh. Actually…now that I think about it I was wondering if I could ask you about something…” He trails off, taking her arm and beginning to walk to a more secluded area of the hotel to talk.

[copepods]

theres many utdr fics out there that seem genuinely interesting and well-written but that i cant read because they use he/she for kris chara or frisk and it gives me such a visceral gut reaction of disgust that i cant look at the fic for more than a few seconds

[rubyloops]

for the saw asks 🔪: 3, 4, 7, 8, 16

woah that’s a lot of them HAHA okay one moment this might be a lot

3. least favorite character

i feel a little bad about this, but my immediate first thought was mark hoffman. sorry. i think hoffman is a really complicated character, (in a good way!) and i resonate a little bit with him since he’s another one of those tragic fictional saw siblings. that one comparison between him and his sister with will and pamela actually shot me dead i needed like fifteen minutes to recuperate after that one haha. his jigsaw upbringing is so heartbreaking as well. but i think I don’t really magnetize toward him because 1. he fucking murdered my beloved saw character and 2. he’s just a little bit too overrated that I can’t help but disregard him. i adore the niche! sorry mark. there’s a buncha hoffman fans out there that will give you all the love, just not me though heh. he’s got a cute face though I’ll give him that

4. a character you relate to

might be a strange answer but laura hunter from saw ii! i kind of see myself in her. she appeared really shy and frantic and anxious and if that doesn’t describe me I don’t know what does. also her mannerisms. something about her sad sad face resonates with me

7. do you have any ships?

when I first got into saw I was really into chainshipping, and I still do like that ship, but besides that I don’t really think about a ton? i do love pintshipping (brit and mallick) but that might be because i also love greg bryk haha. i was a little bit into piranhashipping (william and john) at one point, but i think i was more excited about will content than i was about the actual ship? i did enjoy the william apprentice au that surfaced cause of it, but personally im not really an avid piranhashipper. to each their own! i was also introduced to the pamela and joyce pairing a little while back and i adore that one actually. i wonder what their ship name would be…oh! and of course there’s always the beloved william and grace le domas crackship.

also I don’t know if this counts, but outside of romantic ships i do love the platonic pairings like strahm and perez. AND of course, the siblings ever, william and pamela. i don’t think anyone understands them like i do…

8. how you got introduced to the series

someone really special to me told me about it! i usually took most of their movie recommendations with ease but when they introduced the saw franchise to me i was indescribably horrified haha. at that point i’d only watched a handful of horror films and was still iffy on the genre as a whole. i just remember being in the car with them while they gave me the elevator pitch about the franchise and im just sitting there like ‘oh god there’s no way I’d watch something so horribly gory like saw!’ but oh my gosh im so glad I did. i wish I recorded my first reaction to the ending of the first saw, i was forever changed. and it led me toward becoming a fan of peter outerbridge, which i definitely did not see coming! i think if i walked up to last year ruby and told them that we love the saw franchise and this one specific canadian actor i think she’d look at me like i was crazy.

16. a trap that terrifies you

okay i had to simmer on this one for a while. because “terrifies” makes me think of one that i get scared watching rather than one i get disgusted watching? an obvious answer would probably be the acid trap, but that’s more terror of witnessing william easton’s sad sad face and fast-approaching visceral emotional damage than anything. but i also think of mateo’s trap in saw x, which i think genuinely terrified me when i watched it in theaters. there’s just something about the mask clasping down on his face that i still can’t shake from my mind. i also refuse to watch ivan’s trap from saw iv, as soon as that one starts im running to the mute button and closing my eyes haha. i think that one is a mix of terror and disgust though.

this was fun! thanks for sending these my way :) hopefully I didn’t crush any souls with my answers

[found-wings]

"is this what you wanted" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*ahem*

yes

anyway-

it is okay I do the exact same thing of reading something that makes the brainrot go crazy and have to do a walk around my room just to compose myself before continuing to read 😭😭

BUT OH MY GOD DUDE THE ACTUAL PHYSICAL RECOIL I HAD THE VISCERAL REACTION I GAVE WHEN REALIZING YOU ADDED HIM GETTING TAKEN MULTILPLE TIMES TO THE POINT WHERE HE CAN BARELY REMEMBER???? ADDING IN THAT THE FEDERATIOND TESTS AND EXPERIMENTS KEEP GARNERING WORSE AND WORSE RESULTS IN THEIR EYES TO THE POINT WHERE HE NEEDS THAT MUCH 'FIXING' OW THE FUCKING PAIN ESPECIALLY FOR AN ANARCHIST CHARACTER TO BE STRIPPED OF THAT SPIRIT and the memory manipulation mwah in character for the federation

also the specific feeling of fighting feeling wrong to his very core is so special to me bc it feeling wrong to him is so different then if he had been forced to dislike fighting which is VERYYYYY SEPERATE HERE ‼️‼️ they def fucked him up with various torture methods within their experiments and made sure to wipe it from his mind so he can't remember what specific events occurred in the buildings- but can still feel the lingering effects of their training to give him a negative association with combat. especiallyyyyyy with the detail of his hands shaking when he thinks about using a weapon, I wouldn't be surprised if at his return, his hands would be more crooked and seem a bit out of place at a closer glance from the federations training tactics.

and the way I could genuinely feel my heart Drop when he refused a sparring session- not just bc of phils side of the angst hammer here, but from the idea of etoiles witnessing firsthand how no matter how strong the spirit is, the federation will break past it and leave hollow souls in its wake. how he tried so hard to make sure his friend could stay positive and resilient despite the world being out to hurt him and it still wasn't enough. phil is home safe and sound but a part of him had died in those horrific white buildings at the hands of that damn bear. but etoiles will be dammed if he doesn't find that spirit and shove one of his dozens of death totems towards it and makes sure they get given a second chance because letting the federation win like this will never be an option in his eyes. honorable battles is such a big part of his character in canon so to rip that from someone so close to him would be absolutely disgusting to him and he'd keep fighting not only for himself but for phil too, because he needs to leave this island knowing that his enemies will have been rightfully punished for everything they've done to hurt people. good people.

and also MY NON-EXISTENT THERAPIST WILL KNOW YOUR NAME FROM THAT LAST LINE YOU ADDED HOLY FUCK I WAS LOOKING FOR ANGST NOT A BULLET TRAIN SENT DIRECTLY TO MY HOUSE ‼️‼️‼️‼️ - 💿

ME WHEN, I AM SO RAAAAAH, I HAD TO STOP MULTIPLE TIMES WHILE WRITING THAT AND JUST, HEAD IN HANDS

I absolutely love the specific feeling of fighting feeling wrong. Because Phil doesn‘t dislike it even if someone tried to make him hate it - he adores fighting and sparring, being able to move almost like water because he‘s decently lightweighted considering he‘s an Avian and it makes his movements feel so free. He finds fun and enjoyment in it, it helps him clear his mind and relax even, but after the consistent ‘fixing‘ he had to endure it just feels wrong.

And Phil doesn‘t even know why.

It doesn‘t make sense to him because he can‘t fully remember anything bad happening anymore, but his body remembers. It remembers everything, each and every ‘fixing‘ he had to go through, even if his mind doesn‘t.

Gods, just imagine witnessing the Person, your friend that you looked up to and admired and respected in the same way they did you, just.. break. Be broken into someone you can‘t recognise anymore.

ALSO THE WAY YOU TALK ABOUT ETOILES REFUSING TO GIVE UP PHIL AND INSTEAD KEEP FIGHTING FOR HIM TOO AND AND-, AAAA, WHAT‘S YOUR NON-EXISTENT THERAPISTS NUMBER, BECAUSE I‘LL NEED ONE IF I GO BACK TO ANGST, WHEEZE

Anyways— IQVD

All of this just makes me think about possibilities of actually finding that fighting spirit again, with Etoiles taking slow and little steps with Phil. He can‘t push Phil even further behind, he knows that he has to take it slow and careful because of the messed up shit the Federation has done to him. And sure it won‘t be the same, it never will be, not with the damage the Feds have caused at this point, but it can still come back in new ways.

Maybe the first steps start with Phil watching Etoiles fight again. Friendly fighting and cheering, making sure the island is safe by getting rid of mobs around. Phil flinches more than he likes at first, but it‘ll be fine. It always ends up fine, it has to be.

Eventually Phil maybe starts trying to cook again, smiling gently as he makes something to snack on for himself and maybe Etoiles. It takes some time, but eventually Phil can hold a knife without recoiling into himself too much.

Eventually they start with sticks, watching Phils expression twist into some mix of being offended and yet uncertain at the same time. If a mere stick was going to make him this nervous, they had a long road ahead.

Just imagine Phils hands still shaking more than he wants to, it frustrates him because he doesn‘t understand, he doesn‘t! And yet Etoiles does, guiding him through that frustration as they eventually and finally start their sparring sessions again.

The first attempt lasts barely a few seconds before Phil panics, each attempt slowly but surely increasing in time the more they try.

Maybe it‘ll take a while for Phil to return back to his used to be spirit & confidence in himself and until they get there, Etoiles doesn‘t mind being Phils shield again.

Etoiles has seen Phil break like he’s nothing but an egg and he‘ll be damned if he doesn’t help him heal those cracks again.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

[Jerma's voice] Would Medic watch Gyo: Tokyo Fish Attack? Serious answers only! Just kidding, let's be silly about it.

If you don't know what I'm talking about. Don't ask how I do huehuehue ( ◡_◡ )

Medic And Junji Ito's Gyo: Tokyo Fish Attack

————————————————————

JERMA MENTION??? Lol, I've seen the anime adaptation of Gyo, and ough, I'm torn. On one hand, it's super cool to see the work animated, but also it's not as fucked up as the manga. But it's just fine to write about!

————————————————————

ALSO mutual appreciation comment! Love you for all the asks and ideas, also love you for giving me a chance to talk about Medic (he's so silly I love talking about him, but you've probably figured that out by now :p)

————————————————————

TW: GROSS AND DISGUSTING THEMES, SPOILERS FOR JUNJI ITO'S GYO: TOKYO FISH ATTACK.

————————————————————

Okay to start, he definitely would watch it. I think this man has always been a hard-core Junji Ito fan. He loves how disgusting (Listen I love Junji Ito so much, but good god is Gyo gross 😭) Ito's works are. For the sake of being able to give you his take on the episode, we'll pretend he hasn't seen or read Gyo already.

We're maybe twenty seconds in and he's already a little disappointed, this isn't nearly as good as the mangas he's read, but he continues to give it a chance. The second Kayori crushed the first fish walker and he saw the blood spurt, he was very much enjoying his choice to stick around. Is also thrilled at the fish walker itself, what a disgusting little thing! He pauses the show to just, look at every detail of the fish walker, maybe even has a sketchbook that he grabs to just get a quick idea of the anatomy it would have. LET ME TELL YOU WHEN THIS MAN SEES THE SHARK FISH WALKER. Giggling, screaming, obsessed. He thinks it's so cool. When it dies he's very upset. Genuinely wishes they were real so he could study it. Also takes sketches, pausing to get different angles. Thinks Kayori is insane for getting on a plane and going to Tokyo, like, mouth agape at the stupidity. But then again, he'd go to the heart of all this madness to get some research done, so he let it slide. Gets so upset at the scene where Kayori and her cameraman friend are running away from the shark, he hates how it looks. (No hate to the animators they had a big ask but it's so bad guys 😭) Remember the reaction to the shark? Yeah, multiply it by ten for the octopus. Is just floored by how cool of a concept it is. Like he'll be up for hours imagining all different types of animals and sea life as fish walkers and how that would work.

The minute the infection aspect comes into play he's also so hyped. Body horror is his favorite type of horror after all. Picks up on Kayori's cut before the anime even really expresses it as an issue (him being a doctor and all) and is weirdly excited to see our main character turn at some point. Is slightly disappointed to learn that the fish walkers are a mix of machinery and viruses, (he'd rather these things just be full-on viruses) but hey maybe Engie would be down to talk about how the process of engineering of these freaks would go with Medic sometime, who knows? Human fish walkers are a whole other fascination for him. Immediately starts trying to work out in his mind how a real one would work and operate, has a couple of sketches going, and wants to teleport himself in to study and prove it. He loves it. The mega fish walker is yet another "I have those visceral need to study this." Like I don't think I can put into words how rabid this man goes over all the opportunities he would have if he was just dropped into this world for one day. Is mildly upset at the fact that Kayori is immune to the disease as he loves the trope of a main character turning into a monster.

————————————————————

So after all that, I feel like there's one burning question.

"Would he make fish walkers happen?"

And in my opinion? No, he wouldn't. Sure he's insane, and maybe a little sadistic, but I don't think this man would make such a risky decision to make a virus, and a virus that causes incredible pain and graphic body horror at that. He might be a silly guy, but he's not silly enough to cause actual damage to those he cares about.

————————————————————

Well! I had to rewatch Gyo at least twice to write this. I'm sorry it's not super long, or particularly good, I had to pause multiple times 😭 I hope you like this though 🫶🏻

[ro-botany]

experienced a little personal growth today. There was an earwig in my room munching on a tiny piece of chip I had dropped today without realising it. Earwigs are one of the few local bugs I have a visceral disgust reaction to - the way they move and the environments they like just give me the heebies. But rather than get the catch n release cup right away, I decided to face down my disgust head on, pointed a flashlight at the little guy, and against every order of the part of my brain ringing alarm bells I crouched down and watched him eat up close for a while.

He was trying so hard to plant his feet on the slippy floor so he wouldn't slide around while eating. I got to see how all his little feet are structured, and the segments in his antennae. I discovered that the reason they can bend their bodies in that particular way that spooks me is because their abdomens have a ton of interlocking plates, almost like a millipede. I even managed to get close enough to spot his eyes, and then closer still to see all his mouthparts moving in concert, steadily chewing.

This is a bug that usually has me flinching away and struggling to even slap a cup down over top of them. And there I was marvelling at his chip munching technique. Not even a little bit grossed out. It was genuinely really cool!

I like to think of myself as a nature lover. Sometimes I forget how much work being one can involve though. I went through this process with centipedes, with spiders, with wasps, with a lot of animals. It takes *work* to unravel instinctive disgust that you feel about an animal, or hatred for an animal that you learned early. And I will probably be doing that time and again, as long as I live. But I think its worth it. I like replacing kneejerk disgust with knowledge and healthy respect for a creature. It feels good. It makes the world feel a lot bigger and a lot less scary to me.

I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I had been assuming that the way earwigs could bend must be because their exoskeleton material was somehow flexible. Their abdomen looked like one piece, twisting impossibly, and it was wrong and uncanny. But just knowing that they can move that way because their abdomen is *segmented* instantly changes so much for me. They're just... bugs. They've got hard exoskeletons and flex the same ways all bugs flex.

Mind you I still don't want earwigs in my house. Their presence means I probably ought to give the place a cleaning. But we're moving past the hate.

The world got just a tiny bit friendlier today.

[youngjusticeslut]

What didn't you like about ep 24?

Thanks for asking! Just a usual disclaimer, if you loved the episode, you don't have to agree with me! These are just my thoughts and feelings, and if you really enjoyed it, that's awesome, I'm super happy for you. And to be completely fair, I'm including all of the things I did like as well!

The Good

Genuinely wasn't expecting that flashback scene. That was like a punch in the gut of emotions and I give credit for that.

I thought Tomar Tu was cute and I felt bad for him. He gives off good boy vibes.

Kaldur was serving looks in the PZ colors.

I like the Orion and Raquel friendship. Wasn't a huge fan of the resolution to that plotline in the previous arc, but I really liked how he was just like '...yes you should totally use raquel.. yes, she would be useful here.'

The Questionable

There were some scenes where the animation was really good (Tinya's home planet), and then some where the animation was really bad (sorry to say, but the flashback. They all looked so wooden and stiff). Mixed bag for sure.

That line in the beginning where Lor says "I believe I know your father. He was a Green Lantern of impressive skill, I hope you follow in his footsteps 😁" gave me such a visceral and disgusted reaction. I couldn't decide if it was brilliant writing or horrific writing but either way, the writer needs to go sit in a corner for that one because that was fucked up.

The Bad

The scene with Lor in the beginning. So you're telling me that after Lor and co. caused a huge disturbance on New Genesis and straight up committed murder, his face isn't on a galactic wanted poster everywhere? I'm not saying they had to take a picture of him or anything, but they couldn't put out a physical description? How was this man able to show up on Oa, ask a bunch of really suspicious questions about the whereabouts of the Kaiser Thrall, and get away with it? Makes no sense to me. Hurt even more when Killowog seemed sus and then went about his business.

So, the Team's plan was essentially to just show up, go "hey conner we're here!!!!! let's go home" and they thought it would be that easy? No actual strategy or plan behind it? No backup, save for the Kryptonite? For six people who are supposed to be at the top of their game, that felt super wrong.

Why was Raquel constantly getting beaten up? Everyone this season seems underpowered (except, like, Child) but this was irritating to watch.

I know Danny Chase was a huge comics cut and that's fine, but dear god that accent was terrible.

They had to say "I'll cut straight to the point" like twice, and it essentially meant, hey, we're about to plot dump on you.

There was such a big emphasis placed on M'gann and her not finding out about Conner, and an implication on how serious it would be once she did find out, so to have J'emm and Tinya show up and basically exposit the entire season to her felt super anticlimactic and disappointing.

Tinya....... so "Imra" straight up said that Lor kidnapped them, and instead of being on guard, Tinya spills every detail of the plot to rescue them and Conner. Like... what????? Did she learn from Conner how to spill things at the wrong moments?

Why was Violet not asked to join on this mission. Their powerset (and especially being, you know, a motherbox) would have been super important for this mission. Or hell, even Vic could have been extremely useful.

Black Lightning remains one of the most frustrating characters to me who makes infuriatingly wrong decisions. He knows that this mission is extremely important and dangerous, and instead of building a proper team with backup on Thrombus, he brings.... Superman.... who is almost useless under a Red Sun. Ok. Not like, half the League and the Green Lantern Corps, who might want to protect and Avenge Tomar-Re... but just Superman. That makes sense.

Speaking of silly decisions, the Team really didn't think to let anyone know of their plan? Just in case things go south?? Makes sense.

The flashback just made it even more clear how much Will's absence is and the fact that he was actively discluded nearly the entire season is wrong. I don't care if he has other priorities, you can still write in a line about how he wanted to join but he was with Lian, or he had a Bowhunter thing, or anything. Jeez.

Anyway, I'm sure there are more things that I'm actively forgetting, but for now these are my main grievances. This episode really felt like it took all the creative theories and interesting storytelling, and chose the most boring, basic, and safest option for how things could have happened. 🤷‍♀️ I'm not going to talk about the lack of Dick in his "own" arc because they have long-established that the 'character driven arcs' is bullshit and I'm not surprised in the very least that this was how things went down.

[starry-sky-stuff]

Historical Sortings

I've done a lot of reading about royalty in the 19th century and I decided to have some fun and try my hand at sorting historical figures.

I wonder if you can tell who my favs and unfavs are from my sortings.

Cut for length.

British Royals:

Queen Victoria: Snake/Lion. An unhealthy Snake Primary who expected that level of unhealthy devotion from everyone around her. Probably burned a bit after Albert died. Also an unhealthy Lion Secondary who strong-armed, controlled, and domineered others, particularly her children.

I don't know too much about her husband, but I think Albert might've been an Idealist.

Edward VII, aka Bertie: Lion/Badger. His charm strikes me as more of a Badger than a Snake. He seems to me to be the ‘I know a person’ guy. Just the vibes I get. He also really liked routine and wasn’t a particularly good conversationalist, just genuinely interested in others. Not too sure about his primary, but I didn't get Loyalist vibes so I went with Lion.

Alexandra of Denmark {wife of Bertie}: Snake/Badger. She usually gets characterised as the long-suffering wife so it���s not surprising she’s the love interest sorting. She was loyal to her husband despite all his infidelities, and her interests were confined to her children and pets

Princess Alice {daughter of Queen Victoria}: Bird/Badger. Experienced a crisis of faith in middle age which I interpret as a Fallen Bird trying to reconfigure their system. Her dedication to helping others makes me think Badger Secondary. Also, she died after contracting diphtheria from giving her sick son comfort which seems like a very tragic Badger.

Prince Alfred {son of Queen Victoria}: Lion/Lion. He was wilful and abrasive, and had a no-nonsense attitude, so probably Lion Secondary. I can’t really get a read on his primary but maybe also a Lion. That would mean he and his wife houseshare, which might’ve contributed to the breakdown of the marriage.

Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna {wife of Alfred}: Lion/Lion. Very caustic and abrasive, I definitely wouldn’t want to be around her in real life but I admire her no-nonsense attitude and no tolerance for BS. Her marrying off her daughters young because she thought it was right makes me think Lion Primary.

Princess Beatrice {daughter of Queen Victoria}: Snake/Badger. She subjugated her entire life to fulfilling her mother’s needs and the only major conflict they had was over her wanting to get married (Snake on Snake loyalty conflict maybe). Very much a background character who worked behind the scenes, so Badger Secondary.

I don't know enough about Queen Victoria's other children to sort them.

George V: Badger/Badger. Dull, dutiful and dependable is how he tends to be described, which always makes my mind go to Badger (I swear, I love Badgers, they’re great but they’re not very flashy). Considering he refused to give sanctuary to his cousin Nicholas II because he was afraid he might threaten his own country and throne, I’m going with Badger Primary who put the good of his group over individual loyalty.

Mary of Teck {wife of George}: Badger/Badger. Duty and dignity defined her, so I think she was a Double Badger who was loyal to the institution of the British Monarchy and her family (above any individual member). Her and her husband houseshare, which might explain some of their parenting issues since neither could compensate for the other’s shortcomings.

Marie of Edinburgh, aka Missy {daughter of Alfred}: Snake/Snake. Charismatic and flamboyant, she started out as a young bride in a foreign country with no support and she ended her life as a beloved figure and the most popular member of the royal family. Part of this was her finding meaning in her life by working for the benefit of Romania, which makes me think she was a Snake whose loyalty came to include all of Romania. Also, she was disgusted with her son’s selfishness and his (initial) abdication of his rights.

Victoria Melita of Edinburgh, aka Ducky {daughter of Alfred}: Lion/Lion. Strong-willed, temperamental, and uncompromisingly honest, Ducky unabashedly followed her own course in life. She divorced her first husband despite family and social pressure, married her second husband despite protests from his family, and was no-one’s fool.

German Royals:

Victoria, Princess Royal, aka Vicky {daughter of Queen Victoria}: Lion/Lion. I read in her biography that someone was quoted as saying she was “always clever, never wise”, which I think just fits this sorting. You’ve really got to admire her steadfast belief in liberalism in the face of Prussian conservatism, but sometimes reading about her aggravates me because I’m like, can’t you chill for just a second. Like, stop doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome.

Frederick III, aka Fritz {husband of Vicky}: Lion/Badger. He and Vicky were really united in their shared Lion Primary and belief in liberalism, from which they never wavered. His indecision and constantly subjugating his beliefs to family loyalty make me think he of an unhappy Badger Secondary loyal to a group that doesn’t value him.

Wilhelm II {son of Vicky & Fritz}: Lion/Lion. Considering his fraught relationship with his mother I find him and Vicky having the same sorting to be kinda funny. But he was such a Glory Hound Lion, a total egomaniac, bombastic, and a bully. A deeply unhealthy Double Lion.

Augusta Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein {wife of Wilhelm}: Badger/Badger. Definitely an unhealthy Badger Primary, she exalted anything that was German and was prejudiced against anything that wasn’t. Probably a Badger Secondary too, who dedicated herself to her husband, children, and throne.

Otto von Bismarck: Lion/Snake. Also a Glory Hound Lion judging by his visceral reaction to the implication anyone but him was responsible for German unification. The ultimate politician and opportunist, his Snake Secondary allowed him to stay in power for decades and outmanoeuvre pretty much everyone until the system he created failed him. The irony of that is hilarious to me (Bismarck’s a figure I find interesting but utterly despicable)

Russian Royals:

Nicholas I: Badger/Lion. I’m going with Badger just on his dehumanisation of ethnic minorities, liberals, and anyone who opposed him. And he was known as the Iron Tsar, so definitely a Lion Secondary who crushed any dissent both large and small. Very ironic that he’s the Protagonist sorting, since he was someone who really wanted to do what was right for his country, but what he believed was right was the worst and he's generally considered one of the worst tsars.

Alexandra Feodorovna {wife of Nicholas I}: Snake/Badger. Similar to Alexandra of Denmark, she was defined as being the perfect wife, loyal to her husband and overlooking his infidelities, with few interests outside of her family.

Alexander II {son of Nicholas I}: Lion/Snake. Definitely not a Loyalist based on the way he treated his wife. Loyalists can commit adultery too, but if he’s a loyalist than he’s not one who valued his wife or their children. And he definitely gives me immature Lion Primary vibes, doing what makes him happy to the detriment of others, his family, and his country. He was known for his charm and congeniality, but his way of dealing with his ministers was to play each of them off each other which makes me think Snake.

Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich {son of Nicholas I}: Lion/Lion. A total firebrand and idealist, he pursued his goals relentlessly and often tactlessly. Burned later in his life after his brother took a conservative bent and then Konstantin was basically removed from power after his brother’s death, so he retreated to life with his mistress and second family.

Alexander III {son of Alexander II}: Badger/Lion. Very similar to his grandfather, Nicholas I. Dutiful and hardworking, but also a lot of dehumanisation and running roughshod over others. Treated his family better than his father, and family was very important to him which could also be Snake.

Maria Feodorovna {wife of Alexander III}: Lion/Badger. She was vivacious and friendly and flourished in court life, which makes me think either Courtier Badger or Snake. I think Badger because she really understood the institutional power of the role of empress and was also really suspicious of anyone outside of the family. Nothing about her suggests Loyalist to me, but she was very firm in believing in the correctness of her own opinions. Her conflict with her daughter-in-law definitely makes sense when viewed through the lens of a Lion/Badger vs Lion/Lion

Nicholas II {son of Alexander III}: Badger/Badger. He garnered a reputation for duplicity because, since he hated conflict, he would agree with a minister during a meeting and then fire them via note the next day, so definitely not a Lion. Probably a Badger since he was obsessive over doing every single aspect of his job, including even sending letters and he refused a secretary. His attachment to autocracy derived at least partly from duty and he was very attached to his family, so maybe Badger Primary. He was also very close to his cousin George V and they houseshare.

Alexandra Feodorovna {wife of Nicholas II}: Lion/Lion. A deeply unhealthy Lion, she was obstinate, imperious, and completely inflexible. Wholeheartedly believed that she was entirely correct in her opinions, often based on little evidence, and objectivity was completely beyond her.

[mister-fleck]

knock ‘em dead: joker x reader

Prompt: “Nsfw joker/reader, with him wearing that red suit.”

Swiping the last bit of red paint over his bottom lip, Arthur hummed in satisfaction and set down the delicate brush. He picked up his already lit cigarette from the ashtray The Murray Franklin Show provided and took a long, satisfying pull. The white filter was stained rouge like he was some sort of common whore.

“Look at you,” Arthur breathed, smoke escaping his lips like a ghost. Genuine satisfaction pulled his mouth up into a sly grin, his index fingers no longer needed. “What a handsome devil.” 

He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t love pre-show jitters. The promise of an audience, the chance to express himself under hot, bright lights. Arthur was an entertainer, always had been, and this feeling — the white-hot anticipation of being called on stage — 

It never failed to turn him on. 

Arthur used to hate his body’s visceral reaction to excitement. It was universally known to be inappropriate to do a comedy act with a massive hard-on, and the inevitable throb in his pants used to force him to run to the nearest restroom, stroke himself to completion — which, in turn, aroused him even more. 

The idea of getting caught. Of having a time limit. Of having to keep quiet. 

But Arthur was off of his medication now. He could think clearer. Hold himself higher. Shame didn’t exist anymore. 

Which is why he didn’t hesitate to palm leisurely at the front of his suit pants, blissfully alone in his dressing room. 

What a high it was. Arthur retrieved his pistol from the inside of his suit and dragged the barrel of it down along the column of his throat. His cock twitched hard. It made him giggle.

Licking his lips and tasting chemicals, Arthur put out his cigarette against the brick wall and leaned back in his chair. He could hear the audience laughing on command, probably in response to some stupid, sexist quip Murray had thrown at them. If only they knew true comedy, Arthur mused, lip jutting out. What a shame.

A small monitor had been placed in the corner of the ceiling, broadcasting a live stream of the show. Bright green eyes flicked up to watch as he gripped at the base of his erection through the fabric of his slacks. 

We have a very special guest in the third act of our show, Murray had stated towards the end of his opening monologue. One that I’m sure all of you, including the viewers at home, will absolutely love.

Arthur rolled his shoulders back with a moan, his leg bouncing as he tried to contain the nervous energy that buzzed about his slender frame. He swiveled back to face his reflection once more, smirked at the prominent bulge between his legs, and popped open the first button of his pants with a nimble flick of his thumb.

—

You really hated Murray Franklin. 

It had been almost three years to the day that you had been hired on as a stage assistant for the beloved talk show and the excitement that once consumed you had dulled into something bleak, something vaguely annoyed. 

Upon hearing Murray cut to commercial with that disgusting smile of his, you removed your pair of headphones and set them aside. Thankfully there wasn’t any grand musical act tonight, which required hasty set-up between breaks and almost always guaranteed getting griped at. You had a moment to breathe, walk around a little. Shake off the foul mood. 

Excusing yourself from the rest of your colleagues, you rubbed at one of your shoulders and made your way towards the restrooms down the hall. Maybe if you splashed some water on your face, a third coffee wouldn’t be needed.

The women’s bathroom was located across the hall from the main dressing rooms, the backstage design surprisingly crowded for such a large studio, and your eyes flicked up to the name scrawled across the chalkboard placard that was attached to one of the doors.

Arthur Fleck. 

The name had become a familiar one over the last two weeks. It was all the team could talk about, just how terrible this comedian was. You had only watched the man’s clip once — you didn’t find it necessary to replay his obvious discomfort over and over again for your own enjoyment. It was pretty sick, the way her fellow coworkers would snicker and hit rewind, nearly obsessed with the pain on Arthur’s face as he tried to spit out his first joke.

A muffled groan broke you out of your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes at the door, lips pursed. It had been left open a few inches and through this opening you could see newly-polished dress shoes tapping idly at the carpeted floor.  You frowned, your heart going out to the guy. He must be so excited. Or nervous, probably assuming that this was his big break — when she knew fairly well that Murray had discussed beforehand the various ways in which he’d embarrass him.

You had half a mind to warn Arthur. To put an end to what may become a devastating evening for the poor man. Biting at the inside of your cheek, you hesitated before taking a step closer to the door. 

Another groan. Longer this time. Low and rumbling, like a wild animal. Like a lion.

Your brows furrowed with concern. Was Arthur okay? Maybe he was feeling ill — he certainly wouldn’t be the first guest to vomit before coming on stage — and was trying to suppress the urge to get sick. 

Figuring that he didn’t have anybody else in this moment, you quietly made your way closer and gently pressed your hand against the door with the intentions of opening it.

But now that you were closer, now that you were fully in the doorway, you were able to see what was really going on.

Lounging there in his pressed red suit sat Mr. Arthur Fleck, one hand lighting a new cigarette, the other wrapped confidently around his cock.

You forgot how to breathe. Immediately, your body erupted with heat, your cheeks and ears flaming, your neck flushed pink. Your modest skirt and blouse suddenly felt three sizes too tight, constricting and uncomfortable as you stood motionless by the door. 

It would have been best if you turned around and let him be. If you had pretended not to see anything, if you minded your own business. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away from how carefully Arthur was pleasuring himself. The look on his face was dangerous, dark with want.

You felt your panties grow damp.

Instantly horrified at your own behavior, you squeezed your thighs together and felt your heart jump into your throat, your hand lifting to delicately cover your mouth. There was something about the swagger in Arthur’s posture, the way his long lashes fluttered, the way his chest heaved once more with a deep moan. It had you wildly aroused and rooted to the spot. 

Then, his gaze lifted. To the mirror. To see you.

Your first instinct was to run, but Arthur spoke before you could react: “Can I help you?”

His voice was calm, almost sweet. Patient. He made no effort to hide what he was doing but paused mid-stroke as he tried to grab your attention.

Eventually, you found your voice. “No! No, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to — “

“You’ve been watching me.” Arthur squeezed at the base of his cock and your eyes dropped once more before hastily shooting back up. “Why?”

Sweating and trembling, you squirmed and gaped at him. He had caught you. “I shouldn’t have, I’ll go, I’m so sorry, Mr. Fleck.” 

Arthur was quick to stop you there. “No. Come here.” A pause, where he took another drag off of his cigarette. “Close the door.” 

You really shouldn’t. You shouldn’t yield to this man, you shouldn’t blindly succumb to a stranger in face paint. 

But you did.

Swallowing hard, you quickly glanced around to make sure nobody was looking before slipping inside. 

“Lock it, too.” Arthur added, almost as an afterthought. “Pretty please.” 

With a short nod, you turned the deadbolt and shivered at the finality of the click that came with it. Your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides as your chest began to rise and fall. 

“You look positively ill,” he commented, lips pushed forward in a pout. “You know, it’s me going out there tonight.” He thrust slowly up into his fist. “Not you.”

“I don’t — I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, having a hard time keeping your eyes up and off of his cock. He was beautiful sitting there, on full display. Nobody could convince you otherwise.

Like a patient professor coaxing the right answer out of his student, Arthur sat up, leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “Tell me what you want,” he prompted, batting his lashes, putting on a show. “Use your words.”

Abruptly bashful, you looked at your feet, knowing that there wasn’t any way that you’d be able to give him a coherent response. You weren’t exactly sure of what you wanted in the first place. 

You felt yourself throb hard. Okay, maybe that was a lie. 

Arthur sighed, tucked his erection back into his pants, and got to his feet. You heard him stalk towards you, each footstep deliberate, like he was daring you to bolt. He soon stood directly in front of you, his silence eerie but sensual as he basked in the way you quivered under his stare. 

Soon after, you felt your chin being lifted with the tip of his index finger. His hands were so cold. “Look at me.”

The power radiating off of him made you weak. You knew instantly that it would be unwise to disobey. 

You locked eyes with him and he rolled back his shoulders, no doubt taking in the lust in your eyes, how blown your pupils were. He slowly shook his head, openly admiring you. 

“Such a good girl you are,” he murmured, so hushed and sweet. “Aren’t you?” 

Dizzy from his praise, you whimpered. He was so tall, and his eyes — they were so intense. You nearly forgot your own name. 

Arthur splayed his hand out over your neck, teasing the sensitive skin there with his fingertips before pressing you against the back of the door. His hand wrapped around your throat, flirting with the idea of applying pressure. 

When he spoke next, it was so low, for your ears only. “Would you like to be my good little girl?”

“Yes,” you answered him instantly in a breath, swooning under the height of him. There was no reason to deny it anymore, not with how his free hand had lifted to sweep hair behind your ear. 

A short chuckle escaped Arthur. He was clearly enjoying himself. “And what’s the magic word?”

His grip began to tighten around your neck, enough to make you pleasantly short of breath. “Please.” 

Arthur preened, taking great pleasure in your submission and remained silent before casually commanding, “Kneel.” 

More than willing, you began to bend your knees but he teased you, not quite releasing the hold he had on your neck until he saw how badly you wanted to follow his instruction. 

Your knees hit the carpet and he took the opportunity to loosen the collar of his dress shirt. “Look how pretty,” he cooed, stroking your cheek. He hummed once, happy with how you had smiled up at him. “Tongue out.”

Needing to steady yourself, your hands came up to clutch carefully at Arthur’s hips before you did as you were told. His erection was straining hard against the fabric of his slacks and Arthur sighed in relief as he pulled his cock free. 

You couldn’t help it — with your body so wound up, with your panties soaked, you couldn’t stop yourself from surging forward to lick a stripe up along the length of him. You had wanted your mouth on Arthur the minute you saw him from the doorway. 

Arthur groaned and cradled the back of your head with one hand, the other flattened against the door as he leant against it. “That’s right,” he encouraged, his nostrils flaring. “Just like that.” 

Thrilled to be pleasing him, you clenched your thighs together once more and swiped your tongue over the tip of his cock, a little kitten lick. Arthur grunted, hips jerking, and you took this as a sign to continue, taking his length ever so slowly into your mouth — just in case he wanted you to stop. 

But Arthur didn’t protest at your bold decision, instead tightening his grip in your hair and coaxing you further down. “There we go. That’s my girl. Mmf.” 

Hooking your fingers into his belt for leverage, you hollowed your cheeks and swirled your tongue, feeling frighteningly at home and safe with him. Like you belonged there, kneeling before him. Being his girl. 

As you began to languidly bob your head, he seethed in a breath and kept his eyes on you. Arthur was so handsome, an entirely different man than the one you had seen on that wretched video tape. 

He was in his element, completely in control of himself now. You sucked harder. 

Arthur began to tremble, struggling to keep his composure as you let the tip of his cock brush against the back of your throat. 

The monitor overhead went up in volume, startling the both of you. 

“Don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right back with Dr. Sally after these messages.”

Looking flustered, Arthur pushed back some loose strands of green hair that had fallen out of place in the midst of his indulgence. “Running out of time, aren’t we?”

He pulled himself out of your mouth, leaving you panting. Your efforts had left you deliciously out of breath and the way Arthur looked at you — like he really saw you. It made you want to kiss him. 

“Up,” he instructed, taking most of the initiative himself when he saw how unstable you were on your feet. Your balance didn’t matter, though — because you were airborne almost instantaneously, Arthur’s hands curling behind your thighs to guide your legs around his waist. You squeaked and wrapped your arms around his neck to stop yourself from falling.

“If it weren’t for the paint, I’d kiss you,” Arthur husked, and he reached down to yank your panties aside, nearly ripping them in the process. You gasped loudly and he placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. 

“Don’t worry, princess. Daddy’s got you.”

All it took was a swift roll of his hips for Arthur to slip inside of you. You were so wet, your thighs slick, and you couldn’t discipline yourself well enough to hold back a sharp, feminine cry.

Arthur didn’t hesitate to shut you up, covering your mouth with his hand, and didn’t give you any time to adjust to the size of him. Once he had found his footing, he began to fuck you so viciously, so hard that your tailbone started to ache.

Overwhelmed by it all, you felt tears roll down your cheeks, your pleasured cries muffled as you gripped onto the lapels of his suit. You were already so close to cumming — you had never been so worked up in your life. 

“Gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” Arthur taunted, his neck glistening with sweat as he rammed into you. 

Nodding furiously, you sobbed into his hand and fluttered around him, making his hips stutter in response. He gritted his teeth and thrusted with deep, unforgiving strokes, punching each word: “What a good —  little — slut.”

This sent you toppling over the edge, positively screaming against his palm as you came, your back arching. You accidentally bit down on one of his fingers and he gave you a rough laugh before pulling out of you and cumming all over your inner thigh. 

Down the hall and to the right, the live jazz band on stage chose this moment to come to life, the sweeping trumpets signaling the end of the commercial break. 

The two of you remained panting for a minute, breath mingling, sated and sticky with shaky limbs. Eventually, Arthur regained his focus and lowered his hand, letting out an abrupt laugh upon seeing damaged flesh.

“You bit me, you rascal.”

Winded and lightheaded, you gave him a breathless giggle and winced apologetically, “I’m sorry.”

Tickled by this, Arthur continued to laugh and lost himself briefly in the music playing outside, spinning you in a slow circle before carefully setting you down on the vanity counter. Your head spun — how could this man go from lust-crazed to light and charming so quickly? 

When you looked up, Arthur had already tucked himself back into his slacks and was approaching you with a handful of tissues, taking it upon himself to gently clean the mess off of your thigh. 

“Hey. Want to hear a joke?”

Still coming down from such a high, you hummed in affirmation, giving his spontaneity a sleepy smile.

Arthur took a step back to fix his attire in the mirror, lips quirking.

“Little Jonny tells his friend: My grandpa died yesterday. Friend asks: Oh, how did that happen?” 

You were already giggling, entertained by the childish, high-pitched voices Arthur was putting on. 

“Johnny says: He hit his thumb with a hammer. Friend exclaims: But you can’t die of that!”

Arthur smoothed back his hair, fixed the collar of his shirt. If you weren’t so enamored with him, you would have noticed the handgun being tucked away in his coat pocket. 

“Johnny then tells his friend: I know, but he wouldn’t stop screaming and cursing, so we had to shoot him!” 

Surprised by the dark material but enjoying it nonetheless, you concealed your sudden laughter behind your hand. He appeared to be glowing in the midst of your positive reaction, watching you with those wild, wild green eyes.

Three knocks fell upon the door. “Mr. Fleck? We’re ready for you.”

Arthur beamed, smoothed out the front of his suit. He posed for you, hands on his hips, angling his shoulders like a model would during a photoshoot. “How do I look?”

You found yourself grinning despite yourself at his silliness. “Very handsome. Knock ‘em dead, Arthur.” 

He stepped forward, pressed a big, comedic smooch to the top of your head, and winked at you. “Great minds think alike.”

---

reader tag: @taintednihilist @galaxycat-1459 @hxneyboy @sebastianshoe @insomniabird @jesstaggartt @lenawiinchester @emissarydecksetter @ghoulsguilty​ @vampirozi​ @spaceinvader​ @aclownthing​ @zy-nnic​ @alirabbitt​

(if you’d like to be added to the reader tag, shoot me a message!)

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 3 Part 3

And once again, I arrive with another piece of Midnight Striga!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!!

With a sigh, Amity plopped herself down in her seat, her Abomination prepped and ready for deployment next to her. Panning her gaze across the classroom, her eyes zeroed in on an empty desk; Willow’s desk. ‘She probably choked and designed to take a zero.’ Amity mused, carefully ignoring the sinking feeling that always tugged at her chest whenever she was around, or thought of, Willow. A Blight had no use for thinking of ‘what if’s, when they could instead focus on their present and their future.

Any further musings were cut off as Willow hurriedly rushed into the room, her Abomination pot trudging along behind her. Amity almost snorted. Was she really going to present that shoddy thing? It was her funeral. Still, Amity was a bit perplexed at the sight of Willow’s beaming grin.

“Alright, are you all prepared for today’s inspection?” Their instructor announced imperiously, not even bothering to walk as his Abomination served as his vehicle; Amity had little respect for the man, but she gave him the diligence his position was due, both for how it impacted her future, and her observations of his skills at the art of Abominations himself. As their teacher scanned the displayed works, he called out criticisms at every turn, “Too many eyes, too many toes, toes in the WRONG places, bah! The only real Abominations in this classroom are you all!” His disdainful shout caused many of the students to wilt in their seats, all but Amity of course and, to her surprise, Willow, who leaned forward eagerly.

The teacher huffed, before giving a familiar ultimatum. “If the next Abomination I see disappoints me, it will mean extra homework for everyone, for a MONTH!”

Amity internally rolled her eyes, tuning out the myriad groans of her classmates. Still, there was no reason for them to suffer because of how strict their teacher was. With a wave, Amity rose to her feet. “Allow me to present next, professor!” With a graceful twirl, her Abomination, utterly without flaw or defect, rose gracefully from its confines.

He chuckled. “Oh no, Miss Blight, you know I always save the best for last!” While the stroke to her ego wasn’t unwelcome, it meant she would most likely have to endure him singling out someone as an example, just to make a point. How petty. “How about… Miss Park.” Of course. Amity leaned forward, morbidly invested in what she was certain was going to be a trainwreck.

Willow carefully hid at the despairing calls and groans of her classmates. They’d all get to finally see what she could really do, and she couldn’t wait for their reactions! “It would be my pleasure sir!” She said with a sunny grin, throwing all but the teacher, who cocked an eyebrow, and Amity, who was certain it was a bluff, for a loop. How could she be so calm?

“Okay, if you’re gonna do this, you’ve gotta keep that image of a plant in mind.”

“I don’t know, will this really work?”

In, and out. Willow slowly drew a circle, intently focusing on the image held within her heart. The class murmured around her as long, ropy vines of Abomination goop coiled out of her pot.

“I mean, you know how plants grow, right?”

“Of course I do! I just don’t get how that’ll help.”

“Well, you know about climbing plants, I assume.”

“Plants that scale a surface as they grow long vines across it? Yeah, but what does that have- Oh!”

“Now you’re getting it.”

Willow bit her lip, watching as the ropes slowly built upon themselves, clinging to one another, a torso slowly being sculpted from the mass of ooze before her. As the vines clung to each other and multiplied, the image of arms and legs took shape, the overall image having a solid, sculpted quality that even some of the finest Abominations lacked. As the tendrils wove tighter, the definition grew, to the point where it almost looked as if a skinless hulk of well-honed muscle stood before them. If they hadn’t seen it being built, everyone present could’ve sworn it had been carved from stone, it was so detailed. The teacher stood atop his Abomination, mouth agape, almost pitching forward as his eyes hungrily rove across the magnificent specimen before him. To think, Willow had the skill to create something so glorious!

As the classroom burst into roaring cheers at her display, Willow allowed a pleased grin to stretch across her face. Everyone celebrated; everyone, that is, except Amity. She couldn’t believe it. Moreover, she WOULDN’T believe it. There was no possible way Willow could’ve salvaged that… mess from before in time, much less make something like this in comparison to her previous efforts. Amity’s nail bit into the wood of her desk, her teeth grinding. She would DEFINITELY get to the bottom of this.

Pulling himself together, the teacher allowed a wide grin to crawl across his face. “Oh well done, Miss Park, well done! Who knew you had been hiding such talent?”

Willow sheepishly chuckled, feeling embarrassed. “I just got some good advice on how to move forward, and, well, I took it. It really helped me in how I approached this.” She gestured to her Abomination.

Amity silently growled to herself. ‘Advice. Yeah, right.’

“I must say, Miss Park, this Abomination you divized is simply marvelous!” The teacher exclaimed, attempting to clamber onto its arm. He was slightly surprised, however, when his legs sunk into the apparent Masterpiece’s arm. “Uh, Miss Park?”

Willow flushed, feeling sheepish. “Yeah, I haven’t perfected it yet, so it’s a little unstable right now. My apologies.”

The teacher waved it off. “Oh nonsense, while I admit that is a tad disappointing, you still have shown an incredible degree of improvement! In fact…” he gained a slightly mischievous grin. “In light of this development, I believe that I shall grant you the position of Top Student!”

“”What!?”” The twin shouts, both of surprise, one more of astonishment, the other of incredulity, rang through the classroom.

The teacher nodded. “Indeed.” With a twirl of his finger, the badge that embodied the title shifted from Amity’s uniform onto Willow’s, much to the former’s fury, and the latter’s embarrassment. “Ah, but don’t worry. This is temporary, just until the end of the day.” That statement mollified the two students, if only slightly. “Now then, I believe that it is time to release you all.”

And with that, the bell screamed, signalling all students to leave their classrooms. Willow was relieved, eager to meet back up with Luz and share the great news; her advice had worked even better than they had hoped! For another student, dread and anger burned in their heart. Amity had no idea how Willow had gotten access to that Abomination, but the fact that she was granted such a prestigious honor over it, one that Amity herself had worked to the bone to obtain? Amity was going to get answers, one way or another.

Boscha whistled to herself, casually strolling through the halls. The students she passed gave her a wide berth, even wider than usual. It seems rumors of her changed behavior had spread. Not that it bothered her. Not much bothered her at the moment really. If anything, she felt what could almost be considered relief, she mused to herself, oblivious to the vicious blow she sent to a passing Demon, sending them flying into the lockers, a thin line of blood dripping from their lips. A blank smile played across Boscha’s face, dull and lifeless. Just like she felt. What use was pride and social standing when you were weak? And she was. Weak.

She had made it abundantly clear. That power, that energy, the sheer visceral passion she had felt that night. She wanted to feel it again. Boscha’s free hand slipped into her pocket, mindlessly gripping the jewel she had found after that brawl between that Puppeteer freak and her.

Kill...Rip...Slaughter...Burn...Them...All…

Boscha snorted to herself as she gazed over the milling crowd. Acting as if they meant anything, as if anything in this trap meant anything. Her senses had sharpened after that night, to the point where she could feel the power flowing through each and every Witch and Demon she encountered. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of Demons; she had never really cared much about them before. But after that night, when she saw a taste of what they were capable of? The sheer weakness they carried around as they acted as if they were no different from Witches disgusted her on a visceral level.

Forcing her mind off of the dark train of thought, Boscha recalled what she felt when her heightened senses encountered Half-A-Witch; power. A wellspring of power was coiled in that body, but the feeling it gave, of roots burrowing and breaking through even the hardest of rock, of plants reaching from the lowest point to the heavens, of a world bursting with life, didn’t line up with what her senses gave her when it came to Abominations. In other words, she was mismatched. A pity. Still, that feeling from before, when her sense suddenly SCREAMED at her to turn and look… if only she could recall just what she had felt. In the back of her mind, she almost could say what she knew deep down was true; she was here.

“So, Miss Noceda, I believe you mentioned that you were interested in touring our grounds?” Hieronymus Bump, Principal of Hexside, and survivor of Eda Clawthorne’s reign of terror over the school during her younger years, mused as he overlooked the intriguing puzzle before him. A human, here on the Isles, something unheard of for generations! And, more than that, one who could use Magic, magic of a kind unlike any he had seen before.

“Indeed sir,” Luz respectfully replied. She was being genuine too. This guy just gave off those vibes to her, the feeling of someone who genuinely wanted to help, and was willing to put in the effort needed because of it. After she had demonstrated her magic earlier when she had ran into the man, and his subsequent attempt to apprehend her for trespassing, they had managed to reach an understanding. “It’s been a while since I finished my own official education, so seeing how Witches go about theirs is a treat.”

Bump blinked, wondering if he had heard that right. “I’m sorry, but did you say you had finished your Magical Education?” Was she some manner of prodigy?

Luz grinned, pleased at his reaction. “Yup. I am a fully accredited mage!” She flashed out the certificate her teacher had insisted she go in to get, oh so glad she had managed to hang onto it after all this time. As Bump marveled over her document, she continued. “While mages are trained differently than Witches seem to be,” she stated, looking over the numerous classrooms and varied subjects, “We are still trained to a standard where we can use our skills to maintain a financially stable lifestyle. And I, personally-”

“Are a qualified teacher, I believe you were going to say?” Bump interjected, bemused at the information the girl’s document had revealed. He internally chuckled at the girl’s visible deflation. Accredited teacher or not, she was still a youth of comparable age to some of his students. “Still, I must say, with your display earlier, and this here, I find myself a tad perplexed at your interest with our facilities.”

As the girl’s eyes sharpened, Bump’s internal alarm started ringing. “While coming here, I encountered one of your school’s students. Frankly, her talents were being wasted to an almost horrifying extent in her current classes.”

Bump raised an eyebrow, interested. “Oh?”

Luz nodded, solemn. “Yup. Her potential for Plant Magic was something I’ve never seen the like of before, and her power was on another level compared to the other kids her age I saw around town. The fact that she was doing Abominations, and utterly failing, was baffling to me.” She turned her gaze up to him. “Just how difficult is it to transfer to another Track here, sir?” She asked.

As Bump mulled over the information she had given him, he answered. “Not exceedingly. While it is irregular, students who show dissatisfaction with their current Track, and some measure of skill or talent in the Track they wish to transfer to, are allowed to switch. But, as I said, it is irregular.” He shrugged, feeling sad at his own statement. “I must ask, but is this student truly struggling so fiercely?”

“Her Abomination was literally just a head,” Luz bluntly stated. “And she was my age. She should’ve been much more skilled if she had even a slight level of talent for the Track.” Luz crossed her arms, sighing. “When I got an idea of what her core difficulties were, I gave her a mental trick to help her out. It should’ve given her enough of an edge to eek out a solid grade. But the trick has limits; it lets her get around some of her issues with making Abominations, but it won’t be able to take her very far, at most it gets her on level with the practical basics.”

“Hmm. That is worrying.” Bump pondered. “Tell you what, we shall meet with this student, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Luz smiled, glad it had gone well. “Why thank you, Principal Bump, sir.” The two shook hands.

[laufire]

Roswell NM 2x04

No Maria (we get mentions of her reconnecting with Rosa or passing a message to Michael about still protecting his secrets off-screen which. Felt outrageous tbh. They better remedy that soon), not nearly enough Rosa... definitely my least favourite episode of the bunch so far. Especially because the Rosa parts were tainted by Isobel and her mind powers used on Arturo. I can’t even find words to express how much I loathed that storyline. I know some people would say I should cut it/her some slack because she did it with “good intentions”, or it “brought results” or something, but I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. My disgust is too visceral and innate. I couldn’t even enjoy the reunion scene because I was so furious.

I’m glad about Kyle genuinely trying to move on from Liz, and that he’s addressed her attitude with him (which was several shades of wrong but she was admittedly adorable in the “I’ll steal it, I’m just asking you to aid and abet!” scene *shrugs*), but does he really have to do it with that woman? All I can think when I see her is “ew, but she’s a conservative!” xDD. I don’t know about Kyle but that would certainly put me off of anyone, no matter how hot lol. RIP to him but I’m different, etc. etc.

Michael’s storyline with his mother/aliens in general continues to give me a huge soft spot for the guy despite myself xDD (the flashbacks about the mother bonding with the boy because she missed Michael. My heart. BTW, I no longer want Bronson to be related to Maria, since it seems he connected more with Max & Isobel’s mother than Michael’s xD). I enjoyed his scenes with Alex this episode, too. Very emotional in just the right way, and I really felt for them (I don’t care for Alex’ supposed new love interest either, btw. Seriously, who are these new people. One is against public healthcare and the other is a WW2 enthusiast? *sighs*. I know, I know. Not everyone into WW2 is *like that*. I’ve certainly read a few testimonies from that era, just like any other, and liked some historical fiction stuff from it. BUT given the guys I’ve met with that interest, I still had an “ugh” reaction ngl xD).

Best moment of the entire episode to me was Kyle complaining about having to listen to Michael’s heartbeat for TWO HOURS and being able to “pick his nipples out of a lineup” OMG. How could you deprive me of such an scene, show. Let my little rareship raise lol.

I don’t care for Jenna or her dramas (at least if we knew her sister I could see if I liked her, but who knows), so I tuned out all that tbh.

I’m rooting for Sheriff Valenti to figure things out, tbh. Not as much as I’m rooting for Arturo finding out THE FREAKING TRUTH, but still. Keep investigating and fuck shit up, you beautiful woman (though when she finds out her own son has been bullshitting her it’s probably going to be really painful for everyone involved, myself included).

[theelliottsmiths]

Top 5 creepy Ramm songs

In sound, in lyrics, or both? Because a lot of their creepiest songs are way too dancey or soft to actually sound creepy. They have a knack for making disgusting and distressing things easily consumable, it's like exposure therapy sometimes.

If we're going for both lyrics and music we have to pass by a lot of the most lyrically creepy because they do not at all sound like they're about what they're about. Hallomann, Weit Weg, Heirate Mich, Spieluhr, Tier etc

Spiel Mit Mir. His voice sure is young and vulnerable at the beginning there, and the way it waivers in the chorus? The juxtaposition between the raw childishness and the deep growl?

Stein um Stein, as long as you don't start thinking about the Cask of Amontillado.

Rammstein. This gives me a genuine, visceral reaction and has since I was a kid and learned what it was about. It's like infrasound.

Halt. It's the way he delivers the first verse especially.

Puppe. Till is very good at sounding like he is losing his shit (refer back to Halt for another example).

Wiener Blut doesn't make the list because as of 16/11/19 dunkelheit still makes me laugh.

[austennerdita2533]

Day 2: Adversaries

A/N: Let me preface this by saying that I have a strong, visceral reaction to the phrase "I hate you" when it's exchanged between either fictional characters or real people, but I used it purposefully here. All dialogue. Short. Klaroline bantering. Mostly crack but gets a little angsty toward the end? Maybe? 

(Social Media AU + Texting Crack + High School AU) 

Happy Belated Birthday, Alicea, @klarolinekolvina This wasn’t originally what I had in mind to write for you, but I remembered you like my crack series “The Last Love Life” and this more or less tumbled from me without much prodding.

I hope you like it, ya’ll. :)

(FF.net)

xx Ashlee Bree

I Hate You, I Hate You Not

Caroline: I hate you, by the way. HATE you.

Klaus: Gee, what a heartwarming message. I’m flattered. Truly.

Klaus: It’s an honor to be loathed by you.

Klaus: [inserts gif of a king bowing]

Caroline: Please. Like you have the audacity to be offended after what you did.

Klaus: I beg your pardon, love, but I’m more than offended.

Klaus: I feel bruised.

Klaus: Betrayed.

Klaus: Brokennn.

Caroline: The heartless hybrid serial dater has “feelings” now? Really? *laughing emoji* *clapping emoji* Give me a damn break!

Klaus: My poor, wretched, miserable heart—you’ve cut it out. Stomped it dead.

Klaus: I’m empty and exposed!

Klaus: *music note emoji* How will….how will my heart go on? *music note emoji*

Caroline: Celine Dion? Seriously?

Klaus: What? Not a fan?

Klaus: That’s a shame considering I assumed you loved Titanic. Truth be told, I had you pegged as a Kate and Leo lover.

Caroline: Ugh! See! This is why I can’t stand you!

Caroline: You’re obnoxious af…you take nothing seriously whatsoever…you—you freaking irritate me constantly!

Klaus: *thumbs up emoji*

Caroline: You royally suck, Klaus. And I hate, hate, hate you!

Caroline: Like…have I made myself clear yet?

Klaus: *thumbs up emoji*

Caroline: Omg, will you stop being such a passive aggressive ass?

Klaus: Um…I’m not?

Caroline: You are.

Klaus: Am not.

Caroline: Are too!

Caroline: Like wtf. Why can’t you just answer me properly?

Klaus: I’m sorry, but that was an answer, sweetheart. One of many, in fact.

Caroline: No, it was a thumb.

Klaus: Well, technically, it was a thumbs up. But—hey, who am I to nit-pick?

Caroline: *unamused emoji*

Caroline: Just assure me (in words) that you understand how much I despise you. Okay? That’s all I ask.

Klaus: Oh, for fuck’s sake. How asinine.

Caroline: Do it.

Klaus: No.

Caroline: Please?

Klaus: *glaring emoji*

Klaus: Fine. I’ve surmised as much from your daily dagger stares, your ‘accidental’ elbows-to-my-gut, your “cheat off me and you will-die” remarks in history, and your perpetual (but failing) attempts to keep me at arm’s length. Okay, Caroline? Satisfied?

Caroline: Very. Thank you.

Klaus: I’m also glad you’ve taken the time to spell out your disgust for me in such ugly, flagrant language tonight. I mean—finally! You’ve been holding back for too long.

Klaus: Bless you for finding the courage to be pointedly and genuinely mean after all this time. Bravo!

Klaus: [inserts Etta James ‘At Last’ vine which loops those 2 words over and over again]

Caroline: And you wonder why I think you’re an ass…smh

Klaus: Just remember it was Lockwood who dropped you for that bayou bitch two weeks ago, alright? Not me.

Caroline: OMG.

Caroline: You bastard! How dare you bring him into this!?

Klaus: He’s a choice idiot, if you’ll permit to say so. Didn’t know what he had.

Caroline: This has absolutely nothing to do with him! Nothing.

Klaus: Stop lying to yourself, Caroline. This has everything to do with him. You feel guilty and ashamed…but why?

Klaus: Tell me why.

Klaus. Go on. I dare you.

Caroline: Shut up, shut up!

Caroline: You provoking, presumptuous ass!

Caroline: There’s only one thing I care to say to you, okay? Just one thing you deserve to hear from me…

Klaus: *talk to the hand emoji*

Klaus: Let me stop you right there before you say something else you’re bound to regret.

Caroline: Pfft. Coward.

Caroline: You’re only afraid to hear what I have to say.

Klaus: Trust me, I’ve heard plenty from you this evening as it is.

Caroline: Wtf. It’s like you’re implying I’m hiding behind words or something?

Klaus: Well?

Klaus: Aren’t you?

Caroline: *glaring emoji*

Klaus: Look, ‘hate’ is a strong word—that’s all I’m saying. Throwing it around callously is not only unwise but unfeeling, love, and the only reason I’ve let it slide tonight is because you’re angry, hurt, and confused.

Klaus: Also, I know you don’t mean it. You’re simply…ah, what’s the word?

Klaus: Processing.

Caroline: *middle finger emoji*

Klaus: *smirking emoji*

Caroline: Maybe I do mean it. Ever think of that, smarty pants?

Klaus: You don’t.

Caroline: I do!

Klaus: No. You don’t.

Caroline: And how the hell would you know, huh?

Klaus: Because.

Caroline: Because what? Did you take a page from Edward Cullen and somehow acquire the ability to mind-read during this conversation?

Klaus: No, I just know you don’t hate me.

Caroline: How?

Klaus: Because you kissed me back.

[i-am-a-fan-of-empty-spaces]

drug emotionz

Last night my friends took too much shrooms and had an awful trip and suffered for hours in bed while I watched. It was the first time something that, even if it evoked very little sympathy in me for whatever reason (and I felt bad for this afterwards), was objectively severe enough that for the first time, I felt “this is an event that I have to talk about with a level of reverence”. As this was happening i scrolled through my friends’ list on messenger and thought of people to talk to. i passed by ___’s name, and the thought of talking to her in that moment was so disgusting to me. I have a tone of voice i take on when I talk with her, and that tone of voice was crafted, I think, to impress her, to let her like me. And the me of now was one in horror and awe and the awfulness of what was happening in bed, and I could not translate that to her conversations. Out of the people on messenger, the only one I felt safe messaging was Steven, and even then I felt like something about my tone of voice was wrong, *I* was still too selfish of a vehicle to carry a message so grave. I was so lacking in sympathy. The idea that some uncontrollable emotional reaction is what determines whether you are allowed to participate in something is so cruel and unfair. And yet I feel like it’s true, that the universe has blinded me to others’ emotions so that my presence in a situation beyond my capacity to feel would just be grating. I feel as if I am a non-grave presence in a very grave world, and that existing itself is a sin because of this.

--

Written while coming down: 

I felt viscerally disgusted thinking about talking to people on 6-APB. Everything I said felt wrong, like it warranted a long series of apologies. Why do I even hang with SO MANY PEOPLE other than to get em to think I’m cool? The people I crush on, who happen to exist just fine until I unceremoniously barge into their space, unkempt, emotions flying everywhere. What right do I have to talk to them? Everything I say has an element of wanting attention wanting to make myself look good. But their lives are fine without me! There’s nothing I add that someone else, some more perfect version of me, can’t add more of. Imagine me having never existed in the first place. Imagine a universe where people aren’t me, where people like me don’t exist and when other people are hurt we all genuinely feel their pain. Imagine actually good, non-shitty people.

You know how Bodhidharma talks all about how enlightenment is something you either have or don’t and the intent matters not at all? I think empathy is like this. I lack empathy. No amount of awareness of this lack will change me. The ego is back as the drug has worn off, and already I’m decorating my words this way, able to shake off that self disgust I SHOULD be feeling. Maybe all “self expression” art is just a shitty romanticizing of something too awful to be seen directly.

I wish I knew more words, but all the words in the universe couldn’t describe these feelings. I’m not sad at all (benzos). I didn’t feel sad earlier except maybe a little. I stopped feeling. I for a rare chance stepped out of that self-delusional happy bubble I had been living in where I could stomach my awfulness, and if happy Zef met me now he would be desperate to come up with counterarguments for why I’m wrong.

My consolation is that Jesus said the woman who gave two pennies at the temple gave more than the rich man and his lavish offerings, and if pennies were morals then I feel like I have maybe at least attempted to give something from what little I have. My consolation is that we fucked up amoral humans can band together and celebrate our awfulness and survive anyway, like wild animals who bite viciously on the verge of death.

[darlinggod]

title: take my heart and put it in your pocket (AO3)

summary: 

The way Clarke sees it, there are only two ways to explain the situation; Clarke and Raven have the same secret admirer with remarkably bad taste, or Clarke and Raven have two separate secret admirers with similar, but remarkably bad tastes.

Or.

The one where Clarke is in love with her best friend and, also, someone is secretly giving her and Raven lame gifts that she kind of likes.

word count:  2588

A/N: This is really bad fluff. Not even in a self-deprecating way. Like, I think I just needed to write this much fluff for some reason. It was almost therapeutic. Anyway, there’s some background sea mechanic, if that’s your thing.

The way Clarke sees it, there are only two ways to explain the situation; Clarke and Raven have the same secret admirer with remarkably bad taste, or Clarke and Raven have two separate secret admirers with similar, but remarkably bad tastes. Either way, she thinks it’s kind of sweet.

Raven, on the other hand, has a different approach to the whole thing.

“I don’t like hand-outs.” They’re at lunch and Raven has barely touched her food, too busy glaring at the piece of paper she's holding. Clarke’s afraid she’s going to puncture it with her fingernails. From what she can see, it's just a standard map apart from the words; “you mean the world to me” written in flowy, pink script. Raven had found it in her locker earlier, and Clarke was witness to her going from blushing teenage girl to mildly inconvenienced to genuinely pissed off in, like, twenty seconds flat.

“If this is a hand-out,” Clarke tells her as she slowly extricates it from her hands, “it would be, like, the worst kind.”

“You’re just saying that because you like them.” The disapproval in Raven’s voice is plain and, honestly, she gets it. She doesn’t understand why she likes them either. Only that she had found an orange on her desk with a note reading “orange you glad the week is over” a few Fridays ago, and a heart-shaped cupcake a couple of days later and she hasn’t stopped looking forward to them since.

“I think it’s cute in a weird way.”

Raven shoots her an unimpressed look. “It’s just weird. I bet they’re hoping for sex in return.” She frowns. “It’s always sex.”

She shakes her head. “Doesn’t sound like them.”

“We don’t know anything about them,” Raven reminds her.

“You’re right,” Clarke concedes, stealing a French fry from her friend, because if she’s too annoyed to eat them, someone should, “But for now, it’s harmless fun. And, it’s not like anything’s going to happen.”

“Because you’re in love with your best friend?”

Clarke’s had this conversation with Raven too many times and has accepted that she’s right far too long ago to have any sort of reaction to that. “And you’re in love with the new girl?” she retorts instead. Raven doesn’t react either. Though, she thinks that that might have more to do with who Raven is as a person.

“You’re not denying Bellamy.”

“And you’re not denying Luna.”

“Whatever,” Raven says, which is as good as any show of emotion she’s going to get from her, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they're not doing anything bad. It’s just a little sleazy for this person to go after two girls at the same time.”

“It could be two different people," she suggests, irritated by the edge of hope she hears in her own voice.

Raven laughs, dry. “That’s not likely. Two different people can't be the same kind of lame.” She glances down at her plate. “You’re eating my fries.” Clarke chews a little louder, half to annoy Raven, half because she’s annoyed at her for pointing out that her secret admirer is probably just another creep.

“What? Do you think it’s Finn?” Clarke asks, grimacing only slightly. Wounds do heal, but she could never say his name without it leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

“No. Finn dropped it a while ago. Wick, maybe?”

“He’s not into me,” she replies, “Lexa?” They both wince at the same time. “Never mind. Wells?”

“He moved to Australia last semester,” Raven reminds her, not unkindly.

Clarke sighs deeply. She doesn’t miss him as much as she used to— like she was missing a limb— but she still has trouble remembering that they aren’t physically in the same place anymore. He’s been in her life too long.

“Now I’m bummed.”

Raven puts an arm around her and Clarke rests her head against her shoulder. Raven’s not very tactile. It’s a testament to how much she misses him too that she would initiate any physical contact at all. Clarke doesn't have the same reservations.

“What are we talking about?” she hears Bellamy ask. She has a visceral reaction to the gravel in his voice. Like, she was fine before— having fun, even— but he makes it all so much better. She watches him sit next to Raven out of the corner of her eye. His hair is messy and his eyes are bright and they lock with her own almost immediately. She sticks out her tongue at him and he grins at her. She hadn’t been separated from him for long, but she still finds herself realizing that she missed him. Stupid, she thinks.

“Clarke’s lame secret admirer.”

Clarke sneaks a glance at him again. It’s not the first time her secret admirer has been mentioned, and she doesn’t think – or can’t bear to hope— that Bellamy has feelings for her, but she stills feels a slight sting of disappointment when he doesn’t look back at her, his expression remaining annoyingly neutral. He doesn’t care. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. Clarke’s sure she ranks in the top five most important people in his life, at least. Of course, he cares. Just not in the way she wishes he would.

“I don’t think they’re that lame,” she tells them, “A little dumb, maybe.”

Bellamy finally looks up at her, a soft smile playing at his lips. She smiles back, all unpleasant feelings gone in a second.

Raven snorts. “Dumb?”

“Or, they know how to make me laugh. It really could go both ways.”

“Like us,” Bellamy says.

Clarke snorts and Raven rolls her eyes. Bellamy looks stupidly proud of himself, and Clarke is so irrationally endeared by it, she panics for a second. Not for the first time, she wonders how much she actually likes him. Loves?

Soon they’re falling into regular conversation. Bellamy had admitted to Clarke that he couldn’t really talk to Raven when she wasn’t around. But you couldn’t tell from the way they were bickering, friendly until it edges into dangerous territory and Clarke has to cut in and defuse the tension. Still, she thinks they have a good thing going. Certainly, better than she hoped for when she had first entered high school, still grieving her father’s death, still unspeakably angry with her mother, and attached to Wells by the hip, too afraid to drift too far. Even as she aches with the absence of her childhood friend, she can admit that she’s done well for herself.

When Clarke looks up, she’s only mildly surprised to find Luna gazing over at Raven. Luna’s not someone you can ignore with her big hair, dyed in the bisexual pride colors (which she respected) and even bigger presence. Something about her makes you want to go up to her and ask her for advice on what to do about your non-existent relationship with your mother (which Clarke has) or brat sister (which Bellamy has) or if she likes strawberry flavored ice-cream better than chocolate (which Raven has— though for completely different reasons, she’d imagine).

Point is, Luna is something. And Raven has a thing for that something.

Bellamy, by the looks of his amused smirk, has noticed too. Clarke raises an eyebrow at him. What do we do? He shrugs. It’s not our business. Clarke shakes her head. You’re no fun.

Raven makes a disgusted noise. “Use your words, god. You guys are nauseating.”

Bellamy levels her with an unimpressed look and Clarke looks away quickly to hide the flush she feels creeping up her face. She prays Bellamy doesn’t notice.

“Don’t panic,” she hears herself say, still too embarrassed to look up, “But Luna’s at your ten o’clock.”

Raven’s neck swivels around so fast, Clarke’s afraid she’s broken it.

“Sorry,” she winces, “my ten o’clock.”

Bellamy snorts. Raven glares at him— to Bellamy’s credit, he doesn’t flinch— before looking the other way.

When Raven has crushes, she bursts into life. She becomes this mess of emotions Clarke hadn’t been completely convinced Raven deigned to have. Clarke rarely saw her this way. And when she did, it was always a toss-up between feeling scared and amused. Today, she’s amused.

“I’ll be right back, guys.” She doesn’t really make eye contact with either of them and her face is bright red. Clarke doesn’t laugh, but it’s a close thing.

“Take your time,” Bellamy yells at Raven’s retreating back.

Raven flips him off. With Raven gone, Clarke moves to bridge the gap Raven left behind.

“Woah. We don’t want to make your secret admirer jealous,” he teases. There’s something else there, too. It’s wishful thinking maybe, but she hears a hint of jealousy. It means nothing, she scolds herself. But, she thinks, it could mean something, everything.

“Eh,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels, “I like them less than I like you.”

“Really?”

She looks up at him. He’s always like this with her. Wide open. It makes her heart soar, just a little.

“Of course, you dork. You’re special.”

“Special,” he echoes.

Clarke has a feeling she’s said too much. Like she’s given a part of her she can never quite get back. She feels like she’s at the edge of something. So, of course, she takes several steps back. “Besides,” she says with levity she doesn’t quite feel, “No offense, but you’re not the one they should be jealous of.”

She gestures to Raven and Luna who are now sitting closer to each other than she’s ever seen Raven with anyone. Luna says something and she throws her head back and laughs. The kind of laugh she reserves for things that really do make her happy. Clarke feels a swell of joy for her friend.

He hums thoughtfully. If he notices her change of tone, he doesn’t show it. “What if your secret admirer isn’t hers?”

“Raven doesn’t think so.”

“And what do you think?”

“You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“You think gif is pronounced like the peanut butter. It can’t be worse than that.”

Laughter bubbles in her chest and spills out of her. How does he do that? She wonders, Make everything so much easier. She thinks she might know the answer. She’s pretty sure she isn’t ready for it. “I’m not even getting into to that, but you’ve made your point.” She leans in closer, like she’s telling him a secret. In a way, she is. “I think my secret admirer really likes me.”

He blinks slowly. Clarke looks at him. Really looks at him. He’s always been handsome. All curly hair and freckles and smiles that are as beautiful as they are hard to get out of him. But there’s something else there. It’s too familiar. It breaks her heart a little. Bellamy looks away, sudden and sharp, and his curls fall into his eyes. She tucks her hand between her thighs so she doesn’t do something stupid like push his hair back, or something.

She shrugs instead.

“Do you want them to?”

She shrugs again. “It would be nice, I guess,” she admits, “But even if they don't, you like me enough to make up for it.”

Bellamy smiles. The kind of smile Clarke feels like she can't possibly earn, can't possibly deserve. It makes her skin feel hot and her heart thud in her chest.

“I do,” he tells her, smiling as wide as she’s ever seen, “I really do”

When Raven finds her later, she’s by her locker, still thinking about what Bellamy said.

“So,” Raven greets.

“So.” She stuffs her books into her locker, barely looking her way. She’d kind of gotten side-tracked, and she and Raven had history in five minutes. Emotional crisis aside, they really had to get to class.

“Luna’s my secret admirer.”

Clarke drops her textbook on the ground, narrowly missing Raven’s bad leg. Raven shoots her a look before she can apologize and Clarke thinks better of it. “No fucking way,” she says instead, because, really? “New girl?”

She can’t be absolutely sure, but she thinks Raven’s blushing. It’s shocking on own its own. Even without the news. “Uh-huh.”

“I didn’t think lame gifts would be her style.”

She’s bending to get her book so she only sees Raven shuffling awkwardly when she says; “Me neither.”

She stuffs the book into her bag and starts down the hallway because they're really going to be late and Ms. Indra’s kind of scary. “I mean, I would more likely believe she told you she looked into your heart and saw love and you fell in love with her.”

“Fuck off.”

Clarke laughs. “Come on,” she calls, “We have class.”

Raven jogs a little to catch up with her. Now Clarke’s sure she’s blushing.

“I think she wanted to come off as non-threatening as possible. It’s kind of sweet.”

Clarke’s eyes widen with realization. “So, she’s not my— “

“Nope.” Raven puts an arm around her, but she’s grinning this time. Clarke likes this too. “So, you have your own problems.”

Clarke grins back. “I wouldn’t call it a problem.”

“Do you think the person who has the hots for you is in this class?" Raven asks right as they're about to enter the classroom.

“No. He doesn't have class— “she stops dead in her tracks. Oh, god, she thinks. Her whole world feels like it’s tilting on its axis with the realization she just had. Somewhere, she’s always known. Maybe she wasn’t ready. But right at that moment? She felt like she could grab the stars from the skies if she wanted. She doesn’t think. She just turns around and breaks out into a run.

“Where are you going?” Raven yells after her.

She looks over at her, still running. “To see Bellamy!”

The last thing she sees before the turning the corner is Raven’s face blooming in delight. Although, her maniacal laugh does follow her far past that point

In the end, she finds him in the library, hunched over a book. Because he’s predictable. Which means she’s more of an idiot for not seeing it sooner than she had previously thought possible. She plops down on the seat next to him and watches him start, the glasses he only wears when he reads, slipping down his nose.

“Clarke?” His eyes are wide in surprise. He has a lot of things to be surprised about, frankly. Her disheveled state, her not being in class, her breathing so hard you’d think she just ran a marathon. There was also the fact that she was grinning like a crazy person.

“I figured it out,” she tells him breathlessly.

“Figured what out?”

She kisses his cheek before she can think better of it. “They know how to make me laugh.”

His look of confusion only lasts a second, because, really? She’s pretty predictable too.

“Oh.”

“You’re a cheesy dork.”

He laughs and when his hair falls in his eyes this time, she doesn't hesitate to push it back. Her hand lingers on the side of his face. His skin is warm beneath her palm. She's pretty sure she's shaking. He looks up at her and there’s that look from before. She can’t believe she hadn’t understood why it was so familiar. She’s probably looking at him the same way right now.

“Yeah,” he says, “but I’m your cheesy dork.”

It occurs to her, right before she leans in to kiss him, that just may be perfect for each other. When he kisses her back, soft and sweet and too-long-waited-for, she knows she’s right.