The thing with Clarke is that she knows she’s intense.
It’s not new knowledge for her – she’s always been this way. When she was five, she was so determined to climb to the top of the monkey bars installed in Wells’ backyard and she did climb – but she also fell down and got a mild concussion.
So she really doesn’t need Bellamy Blake to tell her that, not with those furrowed brows of his and the high and mighty posture like he’s done an incredible good deed just by being her soccer team’s athletic trainer.
“I mean, you do know you’re too wound up, right?” he asks again, arms crossed, looking down at her. “And you do know that there are health benefits in chilling the fuck out?”
This could have been a very good day. She woke up, went to practice, and then apparently she fucked up by nearly spraining an ankle but still limp-running her way to scoring a goal.
But Bellamy Blake exists and no matter how much Clarke likes his sister Octavia, he’s still an insufferable asshole. Has been since she showed up for practice that first time (which ended up with her spraying the hell out of him with her water bottle).
So she tells him just as much.
“You’re such an asshole, Blake.”
He’s laughing as she walks away from the field and Clarke can’t for the life of her understand why she’s bothered by what he says so much.
can you explain a little more the Luthor as Satan thing you mentione sometimes?
narratively, if you look at bvs, clark, bruce, and lex can slip into the roles of god, man, and the devil quite well. lex operates and acts in accordance to this role.
the devil creates conflict between man and God - causing man to question the very divinity, the goodness, and the judgment OF God. which is… literally what lex does in bvs.
the devil provides man with the tools for his destruction and disobedience of god; lex luthor spreads discord where there once was acceptance. lex literally provides bruce, the embittered man who has lost his way, the tools for his destruction through kryptonite.
his goal is to create doubt and uncertainty in the almighty, to exacerbate the suspicion and distrust in the hearts of men. lex orchestrates the africa scheme and the bombing, creating doubt and uncertainty. lex manipulates o’keefe and bruce, exacerbates their hostility towards superman.
he makes himself so important by being the one casting down superman and yet ironically, holding superman up as God.
in this context, Man was only ever an ephemeral pawn in the game played between God and Satan.
it’s obvious that in lex’s perspective he feels like he’s doing mankind a great service. he’s not LITERALLY Satan lmao, he’s a very flawed, very fascinating human character. it’s in the allegorical prometheus speech. he believes himself prometheus (who is still! not human!), saving man from a haughty, vengeful god. but in doing so, he is punished.
he even says it to clark’s face, that he’s doing all this to show humankind how superman is a fraud. lex as a general character is supposed to be the pinnacle of human progress — self-made through hard work and human intellect. next to superman, he’s minimized. his achievement is minimized, all of human progress is meaningless.
so he wants to be the HUMAN hero destroying this threat to humanity. but the narrative role he continues to don in bvs is the tempter, the trickster, the vengeful, jealous Lucifer who orchestrates conflict between man and god, tears down his one almighty enemy, and reaps the reward.
he even raises his hand in acknowledgement when he mentions “the problem of evil in the world” — it’s really interesting how he seems to shift every so often, from this delusional heroism to self-aware fury and malevolence.
“Nothing,” Lexa shrugged and tried the smirk. “I haven’t done anything. Can’t I just get a pretty girl some pretty flowers?”
Shy and guilty, Lexa half hid behind the bouquet of Clarke’s favorites, a shield of sorts to protect her from the inevitable. It’d been effective in the past, though she understood the day would come when it’d become old hat.
“You left in the middle of the night and it’s been three days.”
*MAJOR SPOILERS OF BATMAN V SUPERMAN AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISKKKK!!!*****
Requested by anonymous:
“Hey love! Could you do a superman imagine where the reader and him both loved each other, and she was there for all of the events of BatsvSupes. But after he died, he came back to her?”
Warnings: Angst, fluff, mild swearing, major spoilers
Note: First superman imagine!!! hopefully you enjoy xx
*not proof read
The shot glass was cool against your fingertips which was an odd contrast to the burning sensation in your throat as you downed another shot.
You reached for the almost empty bottle of vodka, staring at it blankly as you held on to it tightly. As you held onto the bottle which was fresh out of the fridge your fingers slowly began to turn numb. This only resulted in you wrapping your fingers around it tighter. Maybe if you held on to it long enough the numbing sensation would eventually travel up your body and into your heart. Then you could finally have a moment of reprieve from the unbearable pain that was currently surging through every inch of you.
Bellamy forces himself to keep moving on patrol, convinced that if he keeps walking, his feet won’t go numb. He can see his breath and his fingers feel cold to the bone even as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
Walking by a few tents he knows are used by younger kids, he pokes his head inside quietly, and panics for a second when the tent is empty, only to hear a whisper from the tent next to it. “Bellamy?”
He takes a few steps to his left and pulls back the flap carefully, seeing four of the younger kids curled up together, wrapped in blankets and as many warm clothes as they were able to trade for and salvage from the bunkers. “Go back to sleep, Myla.” Bellamy says. “Are you guys warm enough?”
“Better now that we’re sharing,” Myla says, bunching the blanket up underneath her nose. She can’t be more than twelve. It reminds Bellamy of Octavia, curled up with him in his bed on the nights when the Ark would cut the heating in the manufacturing stations, and they could practically see their breath in their apartment.
“Make sure you guys stay together, and don’t go outside unless you absolutely have to. It’s too cold.” Bellamy instructs, feeling his teeth start to chatter. Once he’s sure they’re all tucked in and won’t be getting up to go out any time soon, he heads back towards his tent.
It’s too cold for even the Grounders to attack, he thinks bitterly, so he doesn’t feel too guilty about trading off on watch for Miller, who looks barely awake, but seems to be bundled up well enough to keep warm. On his way to his tent, he passes Clarke’s and stops when he sees the faint glow of a lantern on. Frowning, he wonders why she’s still awake, and then stops himself, his throat feeling thick.
like, he’d listen to Clarke talk about her and he’d know that Clarke’s into her, because he knows Clarke and it’s so obvious
and then he’d meet her and he’d be a little bit terrified of her because “Clarke- she looks like she wants to kill me- Clarke does she want to kill me?” “probably?”
(Lexa is totally jealous of him and Clarke’s friendship)
when he finally gets over the fact that Lexa probably wants to kill him he spends the rest of his time around those two losers flinching and groaning and being entirely exasperated because “jesus christ Clarke, would you just hook up with her already- WAIT, I KNOW THAT LOOK- YOU HOOKED UP WITH HER?”
(he’s also completely disgusted by both of their TERRIBLE attempts at flirting and he tried his best to be a good wingman but “REALLY Clarke?out of all of the pickup lines in all the world, you go with ‘come here often?’”)
one day him and Lexa end up alone together and Lexa stares at him for an uncomfortably long amount of time and finally she says “Clarke cares for you. She trusts you” and Wells justs nods his head because he knows that’s as close to acceptance as he’ll ever get with the commander
and then he looks at her and says “She’s my best friend. Don’t hurt her,” and it’s Lexa’s turn to nod because she respects him and she can’t be mad at somebody for wanting to protect Clarke
(i have so many more Wells Jaha headcanons and i am literally always ready to talk about them)
no but seriously lexa sleeping. with a book to her chest. the way clarke’s legs are comfortably situated on the chair. clarke drawing lexa paying attention to detail. they were hanging out before lexa fell asleep. what were they talking about? were they content with complete silence? lexa could have slept in her bed thats literally a metre away, but she didn’t. why? they are so comfortable with eachother i am a mess.
lexa loves clarke so much and she is so patient she will literally be giving clarke longing heart eyes for the next 50 years without making the first move bc she doesn’t want to make clarke uncomfortable jesus fucking christ clarke eat this bitch out
Okay these were a bit difficult to weave together and I had to twist them a bit (especially the second one, sorry!) but here’s 11: “I’m calling really drunk right now, can you pick me up a city over?”, 15: “I’m a cop and I’m here because your neighbor thought you were screaming bloody murder” and 22: “after way too much tequila I tried to hook up with you but you tucked me in and brought me coffee in the morning.” Just because drunk!Clarke is one of my favorite things ever and everyone needs more policeofficer!Bellamy in their lives, right?
It wasn’t until Clarke stood up to go to the bathroom that she realized how hammered she was. She cursed Finn and herself. But mostly Finn, the asshole he hadn’t felt the necessity to tell her about his other girlfriend. His serious girlfriend.
Naturally the only solution to being told that the guy you were kinda into and who you thought was into you already had a girlfriend was to go to a bar and drink. And so that’s what Clarke had done. Too much, apparently. Tequila always would be the death of her.
She’d been planning on getting slightly tipsy, maybe a bit on the drunk side, taking a cab home, crying into the potentially freezer-burned tub of ice cream she’d been saving for a crisis, and going to sleep.
Now all of those plans were out the window. Mostly because she was pretty sure there was only one bartender but she was seeing two. Surely multiple people couldn’t have that glorious of a mustache, she thought. Was he also on the phone? That was something Clarke should do. Call someone. To come get her.
She slumped back onto the stool and fished her phone out of her pocket. Speed dial 2, she thought. He would be her best bet.
He answered on the first ring. “Clarke?”
“Hey, Bellamy,” she said slowly, fully aware for the first time of how badly her words were slurring together.
She could hear the exasperation in his voice when he asked, “Are you drunk?”
Clarke shrugged. Then remembered he couldn’t see her and said, “Maybe?” A long pause. “Can you come get me?”