is this short enough for you ray

FAHC as random aesthetics
  • Geoff: Crisp but not cold bills, a deep breath of smoke, when the wind is just strong enough to make your hair move slightly
  • Jack: lighting a match in the dark, shorts in winter, when your phone's on low battery but doesn't turn off for ages
  • Ryan: watching your breath in the air on cold days, songs too muffled to make out the words, forgetting a cup of tea until it's cold
  • Michael: bonfires, mysterious bruises, checking your phone as soon as you get a notification
  • Gavin: fake gold jewelry, making a rash worse by scratching it, cut wires sparking
  • Ray: being lit only by a screen, shoes without socks, sleeping in a few minutes past your alarm
  • Jeremy: far too many open tabs, being the last one to join a group of friends, fist bumping without looking at each other
  • Matt: packets of candy being filled with the wrappers, red tinted screens, letting people know you read their message
  • Kdin: giving anonymous compliments, totally matching outfits, telling people more than you intended
  • Lindsay: big smiles with white teeth, tights with holes, turning on the heater when you could just get a jacket
  • Trevor: smiling with your eyes, cuts on lips, recording things that your friends do
  • The Crew: people making a room warmer, stains that everyone just accepts, friends that all turn out gay
The Joker x Reader  “Spice it up”

You like to keep things sexy and interesting for Mister J. He loves to be spoiled and thinks he’s entitled to it. Is he?…

J is not a morning person. He hates it when you schedule early business meetings. He hates that you have so much energy from the second you wake up. He hates it that he wants to stay upset with you for the rest of the day and he can’t. He hates everything. A real ray of sunshine…

You hear his steps dragging on the marble floor. You are cooking breakfast wearing nothing but your pink t-shirt and black boy shorts. You turn around and there he is in all his morning glory, fresh out of the shower: one eye closed, the other half open, just enough to see where he’s going, black sweatpants really low on his hips, he didn’t even bother to pull them up (which you don’t mind), messy green hair and pouty lips. If you actually look in the dictionary to see the definition of “shitty morning”, you will find his picture there.

“Morning, Puddin,” you smile, turning back to your skillet, waiting for it to get hot so you can start cooking the eggs and bacon.

You hear a mumble that kind of sounded like a greeting.

“I’m making your favorite,” you giggle, turning around just to see him seated on his chair, arms crossed on his chest, eyes closed now. You pour some coffee in a mug and take it to him.

“Here, baby, coffee.”

“I don’t want that. I want a mocca,”  he replies with raspy, low voice, without even looking at you, kind of dozing off.

You take deep breath, keeping your cool. Thanks for telling me in advance.

You start making his mocca and in the meantime get on with the cooking too. Mister J really needs to wake up so you just insert your iphone in the speaker system and say:

“Play Zara Larson: Bad boys.” The song starts. “Lauder. Lauder,” you command.

The surround sound really kicks in and the base makes everything shake a little bit. He grunts, unhappy, until he opens his eyes and notices you shake your hips in front of the stove in your tiny little boy shorts.

“Hmmm,” he stretches a bit, finally standing up straight in his chair. He knew you would do this and was waiting for it. You always put up little shows for him when he has to wake up early. You start dancing more, shaking your booty to the rhythm and sing a bit, facing him.

“I said there’s something ‘bout the bad boys
That makes the good girls
Fall in Love”

He snickers: “Since when you’re a good girl, Princess?” Oh, wow, is that a…smile?! The end of the world is coming, brace yourselves.

You just move your lips to soundlessly utter: “RUUUDE.”

Taking a quick glance to make sure nothing is burning; you drop to the ground and seductively crawl to his chair, still maintaining the rhythm of the song. You get on your knees between his legs and plant a kiss on his abdomen, right on his smiley tattoo and also steal a quick kiss when he looks down to see what you’re doing. J tries to grab you but you back out very fast, sliding your tush on the marble.

“Awwwww, sooo slow,” you giggle when the Joker growls at you, upset he couldn’t reach you in time.

“Com’ere doll!”

“Hold on, my eggs are burning,” you laugh, going back to the stove, but still shaking your hips because you know this wakes him up. He can never figure out how you take your lingerie off unnoticed. This must be a really special talent you have. He didn’t see your arms awkwardly move or anything, but suddenly you turn around and your cute lacy bra lands in his lap. He carefully watched and you still managed to surprise him.

“Want some toast with that, Puddin?” you wink, satisfied at your little trick. It’s not really a trick, it just takes practice.

“Yes, I do,” he fully grins now, wide awake. “Pumpkin, you really know how to work your magic,” he purrs, playing with your bra. “Daddy likes it.”

“Happy to oblige, Puddin. You can call me… Hoe-dini.

He bursts out laughing. “HA,HA,HA,Ha,Ha,Ha,Ha! That’s a good one, doll!

His crazy laugh makes you laugh too. Yes, he might be the Clown but you think you’re funnier. You never told him that, of course.

“Food is done” you announce, turning off the music and bringing the plates to the table.

He always eats on the chair and you always eat sitting on the table to his left, holding your plate. “Why?” you would ask. Because The Joker likes to place his phone in your lap and watch the news, this way he gets a good… view of everything he wants to see. The things you do for this man! You didn’t eat breakfast normally at the table since like…forever. If you try to sit by him like a normal person, he would create such a fuss. The bright side is that from time to time he would unconsciously caress your legs while concentrating on his phone or lean his face on your thighs while chewing on his toast and you kind of found that adorable. Yeap, you’re crazy too. Self-diagnosis, not that you’re a doctor or anything.


J loves to see you dress up in fancy business suits for the morning meetings - the ones with a short skirt and a jacket. It makes you look so smart and sophisticated. He has a thing for that. In the same time, he knows how much it turns you on when he wears a tux so that’s what he is going to wear today: one of his fancy tuxes. You wouldn’t catch Frost without a suit even dead, so all three of you look very sharp heading towards the secret location for the gathering. All the other partners have been aware of what you guys expect for a very long time and since you set up the pace, they all show up in business attire too. Here you all are, the worse of the worst: a bunch of criminals planning murders, heists, kidnappings, blackmails and God knows what else looking like you are attending some big, legit corporation business meeting. Batsy would lock you all up at Arkham and throw away the key.

You always sit by J, of course, behind the Mahoney desk you two stole from the Bank of Gotham. It’s your personal favorite for many reasons. Without anyone noticing, you like to take his hand under the desk and slowly brush it up your inner thighs, then trap it in between. The Joker stays like that for a bit, but then he feels the urge to caress your skin with his thumb and that makes you squeal. Ticklish.

You start coughing a bit so it won’t look suspicious and then here comes the question:

“So what do you think, J?” someone asks.

Both of you look puzzled, completely unaware of what it was talked a minute before but you know you are the one that has to take the heat. You release your trap so Mister J can pull his hand out from between your legs. Tonight you will probably pay for distracting him.


They began looking through building plans and when the Joker gets to his little pile of papers, you see his mouth going: ”Oh!” You smirk: he found it.

The Joker is intrigued: here is your skimpy little g-string right there between the sheets. He put it on you himself back at the house and you didn’t leave his sight since. You sure have an interesting talent.

“My little naughty Hoedini,” he thinks, pleased to find the present, glancing at you with a wild grin on his face. You just chew on your cheek, pretending not to notice, going over your own documentation. He then nonchalantly takes your gift and stuffs it in his tuxedo’s pocket, leaving a bit of it hang on the outside, just like it was a handkerchief.


You were right: as soon as you got back home, you had to pay for distracting him at the meeting.

The Joker is already loading all the guns and his eyes follow your movements around the living room: you can barely walk, trying to put together the grenades and smoke bombs. Ah, the gratification he feels building inside his chest knowing he’s the reason for your…misfortune. Jerk!

“Why so quiet, Kitten?” he lifts his invisible eyebrows, delighted to mock you.

“Shut up, J” you mumble, trying to walk straight with your noodle legs.

“Wanna dance for me again?” he giggles.

“Leave me alone,” you pout, annoyed.

“Wanna stay home tonight and…recover?” The tone in his voice, wow, what a nerve.

“Noap, I’m going.”

“Are you mad at me?”  Arrogant! Not that he cares.

You don’t bother answering; you just take your duffle bag full of explosives and head out to go wait in the car. You hear him shout:

“You know I don’t like to be ignored! Want me to punish you again?”

“Go ahead, I’m gonna be numb for a month anyway!!” you shout back, irritated.

How it antagonizes you to hear him laugh so full of himself.

He heard the bone crack when you fell. One of the guards on the floor had the audacity to grab your leg and trip you when you passed by. You screamed in pain and the Joker lost it: he shot the man right way, plus three more around him because why not. Robbing the largest bank in Gotham should have ended without crazy events. Well, too late now.


You broke your left arm in two places. J never saw you cry until that night. You really must have been in terrible pain and he felt something weird weighting on his heart. It made him miserable seeing you like that. How weird…He tried to brush away the feeling but he found it impossible.

For the past week you were mostly in bed, cast on your arm, bad mood, pain killers and all the fun stuff.


The Joker gave you a piggy back ride downstairs and now you are in the kitchen, sitting in his chair while he fumbles around with things all over the counter, total chaos.

“What are you doing, Puddin?” you ask, grouchy.

“Cooking for you, Princess.”

Oh, crap, no! He’s a terrible cook. Why must you be punished again, didn’t you go through enough already?!

“So…what are you cooking?” you swallow the lump in your throat, willing to break another bone than eat what he’s making.

“Not sure,” he grumbles. That’s reassuring.

He notices the distressed look on your face and mistakes it for physical pain. He comes over to give you a kiss and then he lingers close to you lips, whispering:

“Pick your song, Pumpkin.”

You look in his blue eyes, confused.


“Pick.Your.Song.” he emphasizes each word, winking.”And don’t tell anybody, ever! I mean it!” Is he really going to?…

“Play Madonna- Girl gone wild,” you say, opening your mouth in anticipation. The song starts on the speakers. OMFG, no way!

Mister J starts flirtatiously moving his hips to the beat, and you suddenly feel revived. He takes of his shirt and tosses it at your head. You start laughing, completely surprised by his performance. You remove the shirt, keeping it in your lap and continue to watch how he dances for you, trying to imitate what you usually do for him. It’s hilarious but in the same time he’s not too bad at all.

He’s coming towards you, crawling at your feet and he grins at you as he gets on his knees to kiss you. You let out a soft moan as you touch his lips, trying to put your arms around his neck so you can pull him closer. He backs out fast before you can hold on to him.

“You’re sooooo slow, baby doll.”

Jerk, he’s paying you back.

He grinds against you, takes off his pants, and…what’s this hanging from the side of his boxers?!

“Holy shit, Pumpkin, how did you do this?” he stops dancing, pulling out your bikini.

Hoedini strikes again.


Food is ready. You brace for the worst, trying to lift yourself on the table to your usual spot. It’s kind of hard without a hand. You feel his arms around your waist, not helping you up but placing you down on the chair.

“Here, doll, you sit.”         That’s a first.

J is the one to get on the table and sit to your left, carefully taking your casted arm and placing it on his lap so you can relax it and eat with the other hand. You feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes and you try to keep them in.

Needless to say this is the best food you ever had, even if his cooking is as terrible as expected. He showed you he cared and that’s all you wanted.

Also read - MASTERLIST :

004. morning kisses | pjm

morning kisses
[Pairing] Jimin | Reader
[Genre] Fluff, Drabble
[Word Count] 731

The morning breeze tickling your nose was what first caught your attention as you were slowly dragged from your slumber.  The second thing was just how cold you were because yet again, Jimin had stolen the duvet.  The third was the light making the back of your eyelids just a bit more red than black.  Lastly, was the absence of a familiar weight around your midsection.

Blinking and struggling to adjust to the light trickling through the open window (thankfully the thin curtains were down, somewhat shielding you from the onslaught of UV rays), you turned your head to see a mess of black hair and swollen red lips.  Just the sight made you smile; you turned your whole body just so you can look at the boy next to you.

Jimin’s hair was everywhere, and thankfully it was just short enough that it didn’t cover his eyes (well, it wouldn’t if they were open).  It looked just as silky as you knew it felt, having ran your hands through it just the night before.  You wanted to do it again but withheld the urge: you didn’t want to wake him up just yet.

His head was securely tucked into his pillow, his arm curled under it to keep it close, and the duvet was pulled up to his chin.  The only indication of his tight grasp on it was the way it scrunched up a little further down from the top, exactly where it was tucked under his side so it wouldn’t move.  The arm that usually would be resting lazily across your stomach was up, it’s hand pressed against his chin and the bottom of his lip.  It only served to make his lips fuller, if that was possible.

His lips.  Red and swollen, they were pursed ever so slightly, almost as if he were pouting, with a small gap inbetween.  At random moments when he’d jerk in his sleep, they’d pop out a tiny bit more, practically begging for your attention.  It took everything within you not to lean over and press your own lips against his, just to feel the cracks and rough patches on them before he covered his lips in lip balm.

With his lips pursed, the hollows of his cheeks—the right side with a small breakout, almost too light to be noticed, even without makeup—sucked in a tiny bit.  It did nothing to hide the puffiness of his cheeks, though.  You never quite knew why, but every morning his face seemed to be puffier than usual.  You didn’t mind; it was one of many things you absolutely adored about him.

His delicate eyelashes rested against the tops of his cheeks, somewhat covering the purplish bags from all the nights he spent up in the practice room, memorizing choreography with Hoseok so they could help the other members learn it.  You remember many caffeine charged nights spent waiting for him, just so you could let him fall asleep with you holding him.  Whenever he was exhausted, he always became the little spoon, no matter what, and you were okay with it.

The only sound in the room was that of his soft snoring, almost quiet enough to be mistaken as simply breathing.  You had barely even noticed that you were holding your breath, as if just the sound of it could wake him—ridiculous really, considering you knew just how hard it was to wake him up.  So, as you let out a breath, a lazy smile found its way onto your lips, and you leaned forward.

As you got closer, you noticed he had forgotten to take his earrings out.  Even closer and you noticed the small bit of drool at the corner of his mouth.  Closer still, and you could feel his soft breath, steady and warm against your skin.  Your lips softly touched his, unable to hold yourself back, and as your eyes fluttered closed, his fluttered open.

He leaned in, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself underneath him: his firm, bare chest pressing against yours and your palms flat against it.  Jimin pulled back, his large, warm eyes gazing down at you with a small smile playing on his lips.  You giggled softly, leaning up to catch his lips again in a quick peck, uncaring that both of you probably had horrible morning breath.

“Well, good morning to you, too.”

which fma characters you should fight

edward elric | who wins: ed, probably

ok sure, ed is a nerd, but have you seen?? the shit he pulls off?? half his limbs are made of steel and he can practically control the earth by fuckin clapping. on the flip side, he’s short as hell and a fucking nerd so if you caught him off guard maybe you could win.

alphonse elric | who wins: alphonse

first of all, why the FUCK would you fight this golden ray of sunshine?? even if you managed to be enough of an asshole to actually go for it, he’s literally a hunk of animated steel that cannot feel pain or get exhausted, and he’s beat his alchemic-prodigy-genius-brother in every single fight. do not fight alphonse elric

winry rockbell | who wins: winry

do i need to even explain this. she is a fucking engineer she can and will give you a concussion with her wrench. she let herself be kidnapped by her parent’s murderer just for some mission literally she is the bravest bamf in fma, do not fight her above all costs.

envy | who wins: you

ok i probably should’ve put riza and roy before this lil shit, but i couldn’t wait, because you will win this fight. i dont care if he’s powered by millions of souls and can shapeshift and transform into a dinosaur, he’s fucking stupid and you’d be doing the world a favor if you punched him in the face. fight envy.

roy mustang | who wins: roy, probably

i mean, sure…he is a nerd, but this man has incinerated innocent people with a snap of his fingers. catching him off guard is a no-no, he has ridiculous reflexes. however, if you can catch him on a rainy day, you’ll be able to take him without a doubt. check your weather forecast before fighting roy mustang.

riza hawkeye | who wins: riza

you’re kidding, right?? i mean, if she doesn’t have a gun, you might be able to take her. after all, have we ever seen riza do martial arts? one problem with that. riza has guns at every moment. she probably has guns inside her guns. do not fight riza hawkeye.

maes hughes | who wins: maes

WHAT THE FUCK?? are you for real??? do not fight maes hughes. why the hell would you fight maes hughes. i dont even wanna talk to you if you fight maes hughes. you know what? go ahead and do it. you’ll find out the hard way he keeps literal knives up his fucking sleeves. he also has a wife and child and they love him so if you fight him they will be sad. fuck you. do not fight maes hughes

alex louis armstrong | who wins: you

sure, he has muscles the size of fuckin canada, but have we actually ever seen him win a fight?? he literally turns his weapons into statues of himself. what a big nerd. fight armstrong. 

olivier mira armstrong | who wins: are you fucking serious


yoki | who wins: you

yoki would probably die if you looked at him funny. punch him directly in his stupid fucking mustache. you will win no matter what advantages he has.

roy mustang’s mustache | who wins: nobody

nobody can fight the mustache. the entire fma fandom is at the mercy of the mustache. the mustache wont even fight a puny underling like you. stay far, far away from the mustache.


For the love of all that is good in this world, can some people stop pretending that Ray is a blameless cupcake whose only crime is dating Felicity? Can some people stop living in a fantasy world where there are not entirely valid reasons for being repulsed by this character and not wanting him anywhere near Felicity that have nothing to do with his being Olicity Obstacle of the Season aka Pitsop Palmer?

What has Ray done that is so terrible, you ask? Well, I’m glad you did! Take a seat, and get comfy because this won’t be short.

1) He stalked Felicity. He. Stalked. Her. HE STALKED HER. I cannot stress this enough. He tracked her whereabouts using her phone and followed her to where she was. Twice.

2) He showed up at her place of work specifically to use her expertise against her friend without her knowledge.

3) When she expressed a distaste for his actions and rejected his offer of employment, he proceeded to inundate her with phone calls and texts and emails and flowers, which she categorically and repeatedly stated were unwelcome. There’s a name for this. It’s called harassment.

4) As if that wasn’t bad enough, he took a step further into a place I like to call restraining orderville by buying out the entire company under which Felicity worked to manipulate her into working for him. Because, hey, if you don’t work for Palmer by choice, apparently he’ll make sure you’re robbed of your sense of professional independence so you may as well take the job he offered you in the first place. He “owns” you either way.

5) He then suggested that she should be flattered, because ha ha, what woman wouldn’t be, right? Ha Ha. Women love it when you buy companies to corner them into working for you.

6) He showed up at her home early in the morning unannounced, and barged in before she expressed any interest in him doing so. All for something he easily could have addressed over a phone call or an email or at work in person.

7) He offered her an expensive dress and extravagant jewellery as what essentially amounted to a glorified bribe to coax her into attending a work dinner with him. She was his employee and VP of the company. Nothing about this was appropriate or respectful or professional. Ask yourself how you’d react if your boss bought you couture to wear to a work dinner?

8) He used her expertise for months to further his “mission” with the ATOM suit, but only told her the truth when he felt it convenient. That secrecy, in isolation, could be understood if he hadn’t later claimed to have been honest with her from the start while chastising her for not telling him the truth about her entire life. After knowing Felicity for a few months, he acted entitled to information about her relationship with a man she’s known for two years. A relationship involving secrets that are not just hers to tell.

9) He told her exactly what she wanted to hear, and did exactly what she wanted him to do in order to get his suit working. Only to then fly off in the suit, never bothering to tell her that he actually got the damn thing to work even though it wouldn’t be working without her. He still has the audacity to lecture her on “true partnership”.

10) He used the suit that wouldn’t be functional without her to electrocute one of her friends and attempt to attack the other. He seems to have a penchant for using Felicity indirectly against her own friends, so I’ll give him points for consistency.

11) He has completely robbed Felicity of her agency and ability to earn her own professional success by handing her everything she wants on a silver platter simply to further his own agenda. She has all the appearance of power, but little to no actual power. At least none that Palmer hasn’t deemed would serve his needs for her to have. She literally was in possession of more clout and independence as Oliver’s assistant than she is as the Vice President of the entire company. If that doesn’t disturb you, it should.

Hey, Guggenheim? Acknowledge this shit. Acknowledge that this shitty character is shitty and not some sort of poor undeserving victim of irrational hate.

When I see that a character who engaged in this behaviour is being made a romantic option for Felicity, all I’m hearing is that my inability to reconcile his actions with the idea that she would ever show interest in him makes me a hysterical fan. And you know what, fuck that. Fuck that six ways till Sunday.

None of this would be a problem if he were presented as shitty or morally ambiguous. But he’s not. He’s a “hero”. He’s presented as appealing. The reason there’s a lot of backlash hitting Felicity right now is entirely a result of this and I hate it. Because all the audience sees is Felicity rendered suddenly incapable of calling out bullshit when she has never been incapable of that regardless of how she feels about the person. She’s been in love with Oliver for lord knows how long now, but not once has that clouded her judgement. Barring the first few interactions, she’s been seemingly oblivious to all of Palmer’s crap.

And again, this would be acceptable if it were an intentional portrayal of an unhealthy relationship, but it’s not. We’re not meant to think “oh poor Felicity’s trapped in a horrible relationship and she’s unaware”. We’re meant to see it as a viable, and even perhaps a “better” option for Felicity than Oliver. We’re not meant to believe that Felicity doesn’t know what she’s saying about Palmer. We’re meant to take everything she says about him at face value and nothing more. I will defend Felicity all day long if need be, but I refuse to defend the way her good opinion as a popular character is being used in a weak attempt to get a privileged, white boy, shithead like Palmer into the audiences good graces.

“Frankly, you are the creepiest form of stalker that I have ever had to deal with, and believe me when I’m telling you that that is saying a lot.”

Felicity’s words, not mine. The writers put those words in her mouth. That’s what makes this even more galling. Felicity has canonically been stalked in the past. Sure, it’s a footnote of canon, but it’s there. The idea that someone who has had experience with that kind of thing would be receptive romantically to a person who perpetuates the same pattern of behaviour is patently absurd to me. I’ve seen the kind of crap Ray pulls happen in real life, and it ain’t cute. It’s irritating at best and frightening at worst.

So, please, come at me with “What has Ray done other than get in the way of your ship?” I will pat the seat next to me and pull out a twelve foot long list because the guy is disgusting, and five more episodes of him is five too many.