first ??? in my inbox get a smooch / accepting

She has grown to have a new appreciation for early mornings. Before the rest of the world had a chance to disturb them, when all that mattered to Amanda was whatever she shared with Rex in the privacy of their quarters. When they were curled up together comfortably, and she got to properly indulge in having his company all to herself. Everything from their idle conversation to the simple comfort of lying in bed next to him is incredibly precious to her, more so than any physical item in their palace home.

There's a distinct warmth to her gaze as Amanda admires the finer details of his face. Carefully tucking a lock of his hair behind Rex's ear, she closes whatever distance lingered between them and presses a kiss to his lips. Lingering near him for just another moment, a second kiss is stolen before she pulls back ever so slightly.

His thoughts tend to wake him early. He holds these moments dear, where he can admire her in peaceful slumber before the duties of the day pull him away.

When she wakes he greets her with a meager smile. He leans into her kiss, then inhales softly when she pulls away. He frowns at her request. It's not the first time she's asked to spend more time with her. He understands that her inability to speak the Flaxxan language makes her longely, and empathizes. But he has so much to do.

do you remember what i told you last time?

have you been doing well since i saw you?

that's not what you told me back then.

when was the last time i saw you?

you were shorter then.

i'm picking the restaurant this time.

we've known each other since we were children.

always knew i could count on you.

that time was different. this is worse.

you're not going to let me live that down, are you?

i seem to remember a conversation we had back then.

so you changed your mind about it?

do you remember our encounter in paris?

you should know me by now.

am i the only one that knows the truth?

we had a lot of help back then.

your mom told me to look out for you.

you just love bringing that back up to annoy me.

maybe don't mention my past indescretions?

this was never going to work out between us.

i told you not to get attached.

i know more about you than you think.

i was there, remember?

i'm not about to forget all the shit you put me through.

you told me you were going to try and make this work.

remember what i said to you?

the last time i saw you, things were good between us.

you never mentioned this before.

that was the longest flight of my life, and you made it worse.

can i still trust you after all that?

at least we tried to make something work.

we never discussed what happened between us.

okay, but i'm driving the car this time.

i haven't forgotten what you said last week.

i'm still thinking about your comment.

i didn't realize it was you when i first saw you.

you seem to make a lot of enemies around here.

there's not much for us to talk about.

we worked it out last time.

i know you far better than you know yourself.

we have a long history.

is that the shirt you were wearing last time?

what don't i know about you?

i haven't told them about us.

you were the only person i could go to.

you know me.

this is bigger than both of us.

i can't stand your driving.

are you taking me to the place we had dinner last time?

that's not at all what you said.

didn't we agree on that?

i thought i made it very clear where i stand.

are these the same people that came after you last time?

are you still going on about it?

can we talk about it?

staying silent about it won't help.

you're the only person who knows the real me.

you really don't hear yourself when you talk, do you?

i don't know who you think you are, but it's not impressive.

you love playing the victim when it's convenient.

don't look at me like that. you made this choice.

you always say that, and it's never true.

i'm tired of pretending you don't know exactly what you're doing.

funny how it's always someone else's fault.

you don't get credit for almost doing the right thing.

i trusted you, and that was my mistake.

you don't listen, you just wait for your turn to talk.

say it again, slower this time, maybe you'll hear how stupid it sounds.

you don't get to rewrite what happened just because it hurts.

you're not misunderstood, you're just wrong.

i don't owe you patience.

you love control more than you love honesty.

stop acting so surprised, this was always coming.

you really think that excuses what you did?

you don't get to be angry about consequences.

i expected better from you, and that's on me.

you're exhausting, and it's not charming anymore.

every apology you give sounds rehearsed.

you only care when it affects you.

you don't actually want the truth, you want validation.

don't pretend this is about concern.

you cross lines and call it curiosity.

you never ask how i feel, you just assume.

you're cruel when you're cornered.

i see right through the act.

you confuse confidence with arrogance.

you just don't know when to stop.

you keep pushing until something breaks.

you don't get to play innocent here.

you really thought i wouldn't notice?

you always need an audience.

i don't recognize you when you're like this.

you're not brave, you're reckless.

you say you're honest, but you're just mean.

you enjoy this more than you admit.

don't flatter yourself, i stopped believing you a long time ago.

you don't fight fair, you fight to win.

you're not protecting yourself, you're attacking me.

you keep confusing silence for forgiveness.

why do you make everything a competition?

you don't get to decide what hurts me.

you act like being hurt gives you permission.

you only hear what supports your narrative.

you don't respect boundaries, you tolerate them.

you always push until i snap.

is this the part where i'm supposed to feel sorry for you?

you keep calling it honesty like that makes it noble.

you enjoy being cruel when you think you're justified.

you've been waiting to say that, haven't you?

i know you always choose pride over people.

you don't know how to back down.

you don't listen when the answer isn't what you want.

you treat everyone like they're disposable.

after what you did, you don't get to talk about loyalty.

you always take more than you give.

you never stop to think who gets hurt.

you only care when you're exposed.

you don't know how to sit with discomfort.

you poke until something bleeds.

you love being right more than being kind.

you don't know when enough is enough.

you keep digging and wonder why you're alone.

you don't see people, you see leverage.

no, you don't get to speak for me.

you twist everything until it suits you.

you don't actually care about the truth.

you always need the last word.

you don't know how to be gentle.

you don't care who you hurt if it proves a point.

stop calling it honesty like it absolves you of anything.

you don't know how to lose gracefully.

you don't fight fair, you fight dirty.

you make everything personal.

you don't know how to let things go.

the truth is, you just enjoy tearing people down.

you don't care how this affects anyone else.

how convenient, you only show empathy when it benefits you.

you don't see how far you've crossed the line.

you always think you're justified.

you don't know how to stop hurting people.

don't act like you actually want answers.

you always think you're the smartest one in the room.

you care about winning.

a   scowl   crosses   her   face   ,   but   buttercup   lifts   the   fingers   covered   in   gore   to   her   nose.   it   is   pungent.   almost   makes   her   gag   reflex   wake   up   and   excavate   everything   in   her   stomach.   it   smells   rotted   ,   like   it   was   deteriorating   even   before   it   got   its   ass   kicked.   it   doesn't   SMELL   like   a   primate.   but   it   could   be   so   decayed   nothing   short   of   genome   sequencing   would   be   able   to   say   for   sure.   the   professor   could   do   it   ,   but   the   idea   of   lugging   even   a   sirloin   of   this   thing   to   california   makes   her   stomach   turn.

buttercup   scrapes   the   last   of   the   blood   onto   her   uniform   shirt   —    the   thing   needs   a   wash   after   this   anyway   —    and   shakes   the   hand   extended.   her   lips   press   together   as   amusement   twitches   her   brows.   the   robot   is   called   ROBOT   ?   that's   gotta   be   a   bit   ,   right   ?   far   be   from   her   to   judge   people's   names   ,   though   ,   hero   or   otherwise.   she's   named   buttercup.   they   picked   their   team   name   when   they   were   FIVE.   yada   yada   ,   stones   from   glass   houses   and   all   that. 

His head turns to the battle remains as he turns his attention to more gruesome matters. " After a certain level of decomposition all meat superficially smells, feels and looks the same. Human, animal or industrial. My guess is on the latter though. Flesh might have simply been their substance of choice because of its conductivity and its flexibility, while remaining solid but moldable. Industrial flesh is the easiest way to access such quantities. My initial analysis seems to support this. " He explains.

He then bends down and reaches out. A needle appears from his metal casing and samples the flesh. " With this I'll be able to tell definitively. And if it is industrial perhaps I can figure out where exactly it came from. Which might lead us to our culprit. "

With his offer being refused, Clark excused himself and ended up returning not with an entire vegetable platter, but a neat little collection of baby carrots, broccoli, and celery in a bowl.

❝ 'They stood in the way of progress' ❞ he repeated-—mocked. Eyebrows raised, he chuckled dryly to himself as he reached for a baby carrot.

❝ Hey, you clearly believe in what you're doing so...who am I to argue? Personally, I'd also orphan a few superhero kids if killing their daddy meant stopping global warming. I mean, what are loved ones and friends and individual life itself in the face of progress? Worthless. Sooo true, bestie. ❞ Clark politely crossed a leg over the other as he chewed, thoughtful.

Whatever mean streak had flared up in him, faded again. Whether or not Clark had horses in the race was irrelevant as he wasn't one to involve himself unless he had to. Still, he wasn't above heckling from the audience stands.

❝ I am detached, love. And I'm incredibly attached. I've done my fair share of contributing to the messes of society just as I've contributed to cleaning them up and preventing further damage. I can see your intentions and I can sympathize with them. Anyone with a shred of morality on this planet, I think, has look up from their position and wanted to do more for those around them at some point. ❞

He shrugged, picked at a floret of broccoli.

❝ I try and focus on the present, sure. And the near future. But you have to understand I'm in a unique position that requires me to consider the future far more often and far more ahead than most. It's nice now and maybe it'll be nice long after you're gone. But after that? What about the seeds of unrest and rebellion you've undoubtedly sown? The natural decay of time? This won't last, Rex. It's futile. And I'm not saying that the good you've done is meaningless and I'm not saying the harm you've done is harmless. The human spirit cannot be forced into anything, even if it were to result in an absolute utopia. Gods themselves cannot bend the will of man in ways that matter or last. Do you genuinely think men pretending to be gods in colorful tights and capes and smarty-pants like you can fare much better? ❞

He popped a floret into his mouth and chewed, swallowed.

❝ I'm not saying do nothing but this...what you're doing, HOW you've done it...❞ he shook his head and pursed his lips as he trailed off.

❝ Humans are flawed, dear. And they will always be flawed. It's what makes them what they are, I'm afraid. You can't fix what was there from conception. You're a tyrant with good intentions. Flawed, just like the rest of them. ❞

He doesn't voice the thought.

" You have stumbled on a dangerous slippery slope, my friend. It is all temporary, so why care? Human lives are so short, they're meaningless. These are things that have crossed my mind, yes. But I will not give in to them. Human lives do matter. Happiness, prosperity, even if temporary is meaningful. " He argues. Spoken like someone who needs to believe these words, even if a part of him doubts them.

He smiles. " It is ironic. The amount of lives I saved when I still operated as a superhero- it is barely a spec compared to what I've done wearing an actual suit instead. " Almost 30 years of his life. Nothing compared to the time he spent in the Flaxxan dimension, but still a time he's found himself longing for a return to. Perhaps more now even than when they first got trapped.

#DOOMEDWARLOCK: " You're the laughing magician - the one that keeps appearing in my dreams - ! " " You don't tend to wake up screaming, do ya ? "

Lev's non selective JOHN CONSTANTINE from Virtigo Comics, DC Comics and the Sandman Universe. Exclusively comic influenced. Mostly focused on 1988's Hellblazer, Hellblazer: Dead in America and DC's Spirit World.

promo template - character playlist

RULES & INFO UNDER THE CUT -

send a symbol and i’ll give you a corresponding song for the prompt!

🎼 A song that reminds me of my muse’s vibes

🎶 A song that reminds me of my muse’s backstory

🎧 A song used for writing my muse

🥁 A battle song for my muse

🎭 A sad song for my muse

🎉 A happy song for my muse

📣 A song for when my muse is upset or angry

⚡ A song that my muse would listen to

🎆 A song my muse would sing or dance to

🎺 An instrumental song for my muse

✨ A theme song for my muse

🔊 A leitmotif for my muse

🌠 A song for our muses

🖤 A song for our muses’ ship