#I love saying I love you I love meaning it I love people and humans and being kind and oh boy I should sleep I have a lot of work to do

[draconym]

Thank you for the post about your parrot combining words to refer to specific foods! I always love reading stories about things they say, so so fascinating. Do you have any other examples of combined words or maybe just an interesting anecdote about bird language for someone who’s never looked at your blog before?

Oh, sure. I first read about Lexical Elision in The Alex Studies, and later Alex and Me, about Dr. Pepperberg's "Avian Language EXperiment." Alex famously described apples as "banerry" (banana + cherry) when he first encountered them, possibly because they were pale inside like a banana, but round and red like a cherry--both of which words he already knew.

I guess the thing that's hard about this question is that I have normalized so many things about living with a talking parrot that I think are, for the average person, deeply abnormal. Every morning when I come downstairs he requests various foods from me (most days it's carrot, peanut, berry) and then lobbies for me to let him out by saying "Ripley wanna come out" in various different intonations. When he sees me linger by the door or put on a jacket, he says "bye," often adding, "see you later."

A lot of people think that parrots memorize phrases atomically, as in, if you teach a parrot to say "Polly wanna cracker," it may understand that making those sounds in that order results in a cracker, but it will not mean that a bird understands that its name is "Polly," that it "wanna" something, and that "cracker" is the desired food.

To an extent, this is true. If you teach a parrot a phrase in a vacuum it will never be able to deconstruct it. But most captive parrots capable of language and mimicry are exposed to the daily conversation of the humans around them, and are also inherently prone to making word salad out of whatever they hear. This is fun for them. So Polly will probably eventually learn that Polly is their name, that "wanna" can precede many different desirable things, and that "cracker" is the most important part of that sentence and the most efficient way to demand it.

Ripley loves making new sentences. He says silly sounding things all the time like "Ripley wanna chair" or "gonna watch kitchen" because he enjoys playing with words like Legos. But my favorite Ripleyism is when he says "you're so (random word)." Originally this was "you're so silly" or "you're so nice," which we do say to him pretty often. His favorite compliment is "you're so bird."

I recommend my Ripley Parrot tag if you're interested in Ripley Stories. I also highly recommend reading stories about parrots over living with a parrot.

[luminiamore]

my love, mine all mine.

eren yeager x black female reader (bestfriend)

warnings: oral sex, fluffyness, jealous eren, soft sex, eren is kinda a nerd, creampies and a tight grip super soaker

enjoy and happy late valentine’s day!! :))

You were buried in your textbooks at your campus library, the various pages spread out before you. Psychology. An interesting major if you say so yourself. You thought it’d be simple enough: learning about how the human mind works and what makes people tick. It was fascinating, really.

And yet here you were, hunched over on the slightly uncomfortable chair, trying your hardest to remember exactly what your professor meant by “cognitive dissonance” and how it related to human behavior. You could feel your mind starting to wander as you tried to read through this particularly dense section.

Your focus was absolute, trying to absorb as much as you could for your upcoming midterm. The world outside this small corner you had found didn’t exist—just you and your thoughts. The peace and quiet here were comforting. It was rare that you could study without distractions and were determined to take full advantage of it.

You sighed and momentarily leaned back in your chair, the quiet hum of the library your only companion. The chair creaked slightly as you stretched, glancing out the window. Students were scattered everywhere, likely heading to their next class. The soft light from the afternoon sun cast a gentle glow through the glass, and you found a certain beauty in it.

You’re about to head back to your studies when something interrupts you. Someone, actually.

A shadow loomed over your desk, casting a slight imbalance in your peaceful space. A little startled, you looked up to see a tall figure standing beside you. You didn’t need to look too hard to recognize him—Eren—your best friend since grade school.

You blinked, a bit caught off guard. He wore a white wife beater that clung to his frame a little too tight. His jeans looked worn, with traces of dirt hinting at a long work day. A mechanic’s job was never exactly pristine, you guessed. He must’ve just gotten off his shift.

“You studying?” his voice smooth like it always was when he was trying to get your attention.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes softly. “What does it look like?” You gestured to the open textbooks and scattered notes with a slight flush. You mentally, thank God, it wasn’t visible. “Psych is kicking my ass. I’m starting to wonder why I thought this would be easy.”

He leaned against the edge of your table, his arms crossed. His recent gym visits have been seriously paying off, and it’s impossible not to notice. You look away from him and face your laptop, determined not to let him catch you staring. “Maybe you thought you could magically understand the human psyche,” he’s teasing you like he always does.

You shot him a half-smile, unable to resist his charm. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought,” sarcasm dripping from your voice. “But I’m pretty sure I’m about to fail the midterm at this rate.”

He stifles a snicker. “Nah, you’re too smart for that.” He pushed himself off the table, walked around to the chair next to you, and sat down casually. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

You tried not to let his proximity distract you, but it was hard. Downright impossible. His scent—a mix of motor oil, the fresh air from his work, and something else uniquely him—was all around you now. It was distracting. Stubborn that you are, you brush it off. Doesn’t mean anything. You shifted in your seat, pretending to focus on the words on the screen. Focus.

“So, what exactly is giving you the most trouble?” his gaze never leaving you.

You exhaled deeply, closing your textbook with a slight thud. “Theories of personality,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “I just can’t wrap my head around it. Freud and Jung… are so complicated. Like, how are we supposed to remember all this?”

He gives you an uncommitted hum and starts explaining it to you. Eren had this ability to make anything he said sound convincing, even if it was complete bullshit. You suppose it’s his confidence.

He was close. Too close.

He leaned in when describing Freud, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed at your notes. The warmth of his bare skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to focus on the words he was saying and not the way his voice sounded when he spoke so close to your ear.

His eyes stayed on you even as you stared down at your notes. They were sharp as if he were studying you more than the material before you. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way your lips parted in thought, the way your fingers tapped absently against the notebook as you processed what he had just explained.

He always thought you were beyond beautiful.

“You just need to simplify it,” he interrupts his own thoughts from going further.

He never hesitated to break the invisible barriers most people respected. You had never minded before. At least, you told yourself you didn’t.

When he finally finished his explanation, you blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by how easily he made it all make sense. For a second, you forgot how smart he was.

“Okay, that helps,” you murmured, scribbling down his words before they slipped from your mind. You could still feel his gaze on you, but you kept your focus trained on the paper in front of you, trying to ignore how your fingers suddenly felt clumsier holding the pen. “I forget you have an almost 4.0.”

Eren leaned back, stretching lazily, the movement drawing your attention to the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. What is wrong with you today? He simply shrugged, “I’m just that good.”

That twinkle in his eyes—that mischievous glint he always had after saying something cocky—made your stomach flip in a way that annoyed you. You were used to it, used to him, but lately, it felt different. Lately, you were noticing too much.

His voice softened just a little as he added, “But, seriously, you’re gonna ace this thing. I believe in you.”

You forced yourself to roll your eyes, but the small, grateful smile you gave him betrayed you.

“Thanks, Ren,” you said quietly, tapping your pen against your notebook, something you picked up as a nervous habit. You cleared your throat, needing to shake the feeling away. “I trust you or whatever.”

“Good,” he replied instantly, watching you a beat longer than necessary. “But if you fail, I’ll take the blame.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Sure. I’ll blame the nigga who cheated his way through high school but somehow knows more about psychology than I do.”

His smirk widened, and instead of arguing, he gave you a wide smile, looking way too pleased with himself.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The library had started to empty out after a few hours, the quiet hum of students packing up their things filling the space around you. You sighed, stretching your arms over your head as you finally closed your textbook. “I think that’s enough psych for one night,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes.

Eren, who had been scrolling through his phone while waiting for you to finish, pushed off the table with a lazy grin. “Took you long enough.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, stuffing your belongings into the LV monochrome bag Eren had gotten you for your birthday last year. He sees it as a way of staking his claim on you. He fell into step beside you effortlessly as you walked out of the library, the cool evening air from the hallway AC brushing against your skin.

“You actually gonna remember any of that next week?” he asked, nudging your shoulder.

You huffed. “I’d like to think so.”

He snorted, shaking his head, but before he could get another jab in, a voice called out your name from just ahead.

You both turned in unison.

A guy. From your psych class—tall, almost matching Eren’s height, though not quite—was making his way toward you. His curls were neat, framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly put together. His skin was fair, and his smile was easy and friendly.

He was dressed in a fitted long-sleeve shirt, the fabric clinging just enough to suggest he worked out but not in a way that screamed it. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms that were toned. It was paired with gray sweats. He was cute.

His hands were shoved into his pockets, his stride unhurried as he approached, like he had all the time in the world. His gaze flickered between you and Eren briefly before settling on you, his smile widening just a touch as he finally spoke.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to catch you before you left.”

You blinked in surprise, vaguely recognizing him in lectures from a few rows ahead of you. He was one of those students who always had the answer, constantly engaged in class discussions. A teacher’s pet almost. You never really talked outside of the occasional group work.

Your best friend shifted beside you. His arms remained loosely crossed over his chest, but there was a new stiffness in his stance, as if he was suddenly more aware of his own posture. His weight shifted slightly from one foot to the other, his jaw ticking just the slightest bit. You didn’t think much of it at first—Eren was always fidgeting in some way.

You tilted your head slightly, blinking up at the guy. “Oh—what’s up?”

He hesitated just a second as if gathering the nerve, before rubbing the back of his neck with a small, almost sheepish smile. “I, uh… I’ve seen you in class a lot, and, well… I was wondering if you’d wanna grab coffee sometime? Maybe this Saturday?”

There was a beat of silence.

Your brain took longer than usual to process what he said. It wasn’t like people never asked you out, but something about this moment—maybe the unexpectedness of it, maybe the presence of Eren beside you—had you hesitating.

Your best friend, however, didn’t hesitate at all.

You felt the way his jaw tightened, just a tiny twitch, but you noticed it because you always notice things about him. His stance changed, going from casually relaxed to something more grounded, like he was unconsciously bracing himself. Learning Psychology does pay off in some cases.

His voice, when it came, was firm.

“Sorry, we have plans that day. Don’t we, (꣑ৎ)?”

Your eyes flickered toward Eren, surprise flashing across your face, but he didn’t look at you. His gaze remained locked on the guy in front of you, his expression is unreadable. His green eyes, usually lazy and half-lidded with amusement, were hardened now in a way that sent a clear message. She’s unavailable.

It seems the guy wasn’t so easily deterred. He hesitated only for a second before his strained smile returned, a little tighter than before. “Oh. Sunday, then?”

His voice was lighter, forcedly casual—like he was only picking up on the tension in the air.

You barely had time to open your mouth, to form even the beginning of a response, before Eren spoke for you. Again. Are you just invisible?

“No can do,” his tone leaving no room for argument. “She has a midterm coming up that she needs to study for.” His head tilted slightly, almost like he was appraising the guy in front of him, before adding, “Speaking of, you should be catching up on that too, right?”

The question wasn’t really a question, that much you knew.

The guy stood there, blinking, an almost shocked look on his face, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. His mouth opened slightly before closing again, and for the first time since approaching you, he seemed genuinely unsure of himself.

Eren, more than satisfied with that reaction, barely gave him another second to recover before turning toward you. “We’ll be leaving now,” he said simply.

And just like that, he placed a hand against the small of your back, steering you down the hallway without so much as another glance at the guy he had just dismissed. You walked in silence, your mind racing, but you held your tongue, deciding to wait until you reached your dorm room before you interrogated him on whatever the hell just happened.

The soft click of your shoes echoed in the otherwise quiet hallway. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that Eren had done more than step in to save you from a potentially awkward situation. The way he responded, the way he shut it all down before you even had a chance to speak—it wasn’t the usual playful teasing that he was known for.

As you reached the door to your dorm, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You turned to face him, narrowing your eyes. “Okay, what the fuck was that?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Eren didn’t even flinch. His posture was relaxed as if he already knew you were going to challenge him, as if he was waiting for it. He didn’t even look at you when he spoke. “What are you talking about?”

You raised an eyebrow, the frustration in you bubbling to the surface. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You practically scared him off and answered for me like I couldn’t say no myself.”

Eren pushed himself off the doorframe right then, he didn’t wait for you to catch up—he just walked into your room, leaving the door hanging open. “I just did what needed to be done,” he shrugged.

His back was still to you, and you couldn’t entirely ignore the way his long, dark hair—extensions, you’d noticed before—swung just below his shoulders as he moved. He always looks so pretty with his hair down.

You followed him inside, refusing to let go of the subject.

“What needed to be done? Are you serious? Eren, you shut the guy down before he could even finish his sentence. I barely had a chance to say anything.” You stopped in the doorway, trying to keep your voice steady before you slammed the door shut.

Eren turned to face you, a grin slowly spreading across his face, like he found it all amusing. His eyes got slightly hooded as he eyed you up and down. The outfit you wore left little to the imagination, and all he could think about was.. How could he let anyone else have you?

“Why are you upset? He was making you uncomfortable. It’s my job to step in when that happens.” His gaze flickered over to your face once more, almost like he was daring you to argue.

Before you could respond, he adds, “Unless… you wanted to go out with him?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief, dropping you bag on the nearby desk before turning back to face him, “I wouldn’t even know, cause once again, you didn’t even give me a chance to respond!”

He groaned, the sound almost exaggerated. His eyes rolled dramatically, like he was irked that you weren’t just agreeing with him. “Oh please, girl. He wasn’t even taller than me. He looks scrawny as fuck. He looks like a pussy. You deserve someone better than that.” He practically waved the whole thing off with a flick of his hand.

You stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words.

“And what? That someone is you?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you instantly regretted how it sounded—like you were baiting him.

Eren stepped closer to where you were standing, closing the space between you. His body was warm, his scent—it was clouding you as he looked down at you. There was a beat of silence.

His response comes out slow, “Could be,”

Your breath hitches, almost caught in your throat. You mind can’t understand what is happening, it never can when Eren is this close to you. His eyes are dark, more intense than they’d been a moment ago. Your pulse quickens, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at his lips for a split second before snapping your gaze back up to his eyes. With the way your mouth opens and closes repeated, it was clear you didn’t know what to say.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Eren’s voice was barely a whisper now, his breath warm against your lips, his hand tentatively grasping your waist.

“Nothing,” you manage to whisper, your voice coming out shaky, unsure if you even believe your own words.

Eren’s lips twitch upward at your lie, you’re so cute sometimes. You’re fucking gorgeous all the time. His grip gets slightly tighter when he feels you don’t push away. You can’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, from leaning into how the heat in your chest turns into something that pools low in your stomach.

“You’re lying,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. His thumb traces mindlessly circles on your skin, and you find yourself losing all self-control.

Your heart is racing, but it’s not from fear. Far from it. It’s from the way he’s making you feel alive in a way that only he could do. You can feel the uncomfortable stickiness pooling underneath your skirt.

His other hand moves up, cupping your chin gently but firmly, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. There’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker down to your lips again, and there’s a certain hunger in them.

His voice carries that commanding tone you’ve always known too well. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his thumb gently grazing your bottom lip, making you inhale sharply. “Lemme help you get the words out. That okay?”

And when he does lean in, it’s not like anything you ever felt before. His lips brush against yours gently at first, being the tease that he is. Then, without warning, he deepens the kiss, his other hand coming up to slide into your neatly done butterfly locs, gripping it just enough to tilt your head back slightly.

You’re desperate, and your best friend knows it—the way your fingers clutch at the thin fabric of his shirt, practically begging. He pulls away just long enough to yank it over his head. The string of spit still barely connecting you makes something dark flicker in his eyes, his restraint snapping completely. The next kiss he goes in for is more forceful.

You try to push eren back, just a little, but he barely budges—barely even lets you catch your breath. The taste of him is overwhelming, as you manage to get the words out between shallow breaths. “Ren, Are you—Are you sure about this?”

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.” He moves fast, tugging the strings of your white top, pushing it down until it slips from your shoulders, falling to the floor. His lips stay on yours, the sweet taste of your strawberry lip gloss making him crave more. He feels like he might cum, just from kissing you—embarrassing as that is.

You’re the one more concerned, your voice faltering, “But what—Ah! I don’t want to ruin our friend…ship.”

His lips wander further down. Pressing feather-light kisses to the crook of your shoulders before he moves back up to where your sweet spot is. He doesn’t hesitate to harshly grip your beautiful breasts, pulling at both of your brown nipples the best he can while his mouth and brain are preoccupied. The moan you let out is sinful, staggering, really, as you find your brain getting more hazy with each move he makes.

You think he hasn’t heard you when he doesn’t answer right away. Eren gently pushes you back, guiding you to the chair by your desk. He makes you sit with a firm hand and then drops to his knees in front of you, his gaze intense as he speaks again, “You really wanna stay just friends after this?”

He sucks at the skin of your soft thighs as his hands work to slip your boots off. Your eyes widen when he unbuttons your shorts, prompting you to slightly lift up to make it easier for him to slide it off of you. Before you can answer his previous questions, he’s interrupting you, “No bra or panties? Were you expecting this to happen (꣑ৎ)?”

You release a pathetic whimper when he moves closer to your sopping core, taking a deep inhale like he’s trying to commit your scent to his memory forever. You shake your head at his accusation, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe you when he takes two of his thick fingers to spread you open, revealing your tiny clit barely hidden behind its hood.

“You’re making a mess, baby. You need my help to clean it up?”

He needs to shut up. His words, his voice, do nothing but make you wetter. Eren slowly starts rubbing your clit, barely applying enough pressure to give you the stimulate you need and it’s starting to get you frustrated. “Answer Ren, baby. Do you need my help?”

You let out a cute squeal when he blows on your mound, and you’re too depraved to do anything but listen. “Yes! Yes, please help me!”

And nothing if not devoted to you, he listens. Eren places a wet, open-mouth kiss on your twitching pearl. He’s slow with his movements, savoring the honey-like taste of you that’s just pouring into his awaiting mouth. He moves his tongue in slow circles, up and down, drinking the juice coming from your slit.

You’re struggling to breathe, the pressure that’s building up all too quickly is too overwhelming. He’s not just eating you out. Eren is making love to your sweet pussy. It’s breaking you apart.

His ministrations on your dripping sap continue for a minute before he gets impatient and slips one long finger inside of you. And God, you’re tight. Gripping onto his finger so firmly, it’s almost like you never want him to leave. He begins pushing them in and out slowly.

You breathe out, “Eren! Oh my- Goddd.”

The squelches your pussy was singing become louder and more obscene. Your best friend considers that as his starting point to add another finger that is equally big and long. They both curl up to reach your G-spot instantly. The minute he found it, he just didn’t let up. Despite his slow pace, he continues to abuse your sensitive area. You’re gonna cum.

“Are you gonna cum? All over my ‘pretty’ face?” He’s throwing your own words right back at you. You were never shy about telling Eren how good he looked, and maybe that’s exactly how you ended up here.

You’re quick to nod, unable to keep silent as broken moans escape from your mouth, “M’gonna c-cum! Right there- Oh!”

How quickly your release hits you is unexpected. You gush. Streams of squirt land all over Eren’s fingers, and his face even lands on his hair, leaving it a bit damp. He gazes in astonishment as your eyes roll in the back of your head during your dramatic convulsions, and he groans into your essence. He looks down to look at the mess you made and— Oh. You creamed, too.

Fuck. He loves it. He loves that he’s the only one who can make you do that. He loves you. He also realizes that he needs to be inside you. Now.

The movements he makes, from removing you from the chair to your single bed, are hazy. You’re not sure how you got there; your brain is still trying to process the most intense, body-curling orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. But you’re quick to feel something wide and heavy pressing at your still-gushing entrance.

“M’gonna put it in now, kay?” Eren figures giving you a warning is the least he could do before rearranging your guts and mushing your insides.

You beg him to fuck you already by whining and grinding on his leaking tip. After laughing at the sight, he leans in to give you a deep kiss. You’re gasping and mewling in his mouth as you finally feel him push in.

He’s gasping in your mouth. Feeling his mind starting to scramble at the feeling of suffocating cunt. God, you’re perfect. “Is it- Is it in yet?”

He snickers. God, you’re just so cute. “No, baby. Not even halfway.”

You’re whimpering, hiccuping as small tears start to pool in your lower lash line. You’re clenching around him so tightly, and the more he pushes in, he is trying his best not to cum so quickly. He decides to plunge the rest of his eight inches in one go. Fuck you’re so loud, sputtering and wailing at the feeling of being so.. Full. You’re so full.

“Move- Move, please. Oh my-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He steadily drags his cock away from your cervix, pulling out all the way before he pushes back inside again, hard. He repeats this. Once, twice, thrice more, and God, you “Can’t take it-it.”

He shushes your whines, kissing the tears falling down your cheeks, reaffirming you, “Of course you can, baby. I’ll even help you, yeah?”

His attentiveness is entirely too much. You’re babbling when his hand reaches in between you both to rub your swollen clit in rapid circles. A complete contrast to his way of fucking you.

The pressure in your lower abdomen is building at such a fast speed. Every harsh thrust against your cervix is painful like he’s trying to prove a point. But it feels oh so good.

“You feel so fucking good. I want you to cum, baby. Make a mess, just like you did on my face. Can you do that for me?”

You’re nodding and spluttering incoherently about how you can, how you will. You’d do anything for him. Both of your holes are releasing the most beautiful sounds. Eren presses a messy kiss onto your plump lips without waiting for you to respond, causing drool to escape from both of you. The sheets below you are feelable because of your wetness.

With a few more strokes, your body convulses once more. This time, your best friend has an up-close view of how beautiful you look in your most vulnerable state. Your orgasm gets even stronger when you feel Eren whimper against your lips and his own release, caused by the feeling of your spraying all over him.

His thrusts don’t change its pace as he stuffs you full of his seed. Your eyes look dazed, your makeup slightly ruined, and your lip combo nowhere to be found. He still can’t help but think you look just as gorgeous. He places one final peck on your lips before he speaks once more,

“I’m taking you out on a date this Saturday.”

Guess he wasn’t kidding when he said you two had plans that day.

🏷️: @keraawrites

[bethivy]

I was in high school in 2003, military family, hyper conservative Christian upbringing. My cousins were in that war, some of my friends. I want to add the context of propaganda here, from a personal side, beyond the people calling the shots. Because people I loved joined up drunk on this idea of American righteousness and justice: a lie that cost them their lives in some cases, their sanity in others. Some are still haunted by the things they did, that their government convinced them was in service of justice.

In the years following 9/11, everything was spun as getting "justice" for those killed in terrorist attacks. The news told us we were going into Iraq because we were following "the terrorists." The US was "rooting out evil." They were "forcing us" to hunt them down and find them, and destroy everything our path while doing it. We'd gloss over the deaths and destabilization, much like we fully left out that the Taliban in Afghanistan was set up by our own government before we went to war with them. The cleverness of a "war on terror" is terror can be anywhere. And if you keep your people terrified, they will back you up in continuing your father's oil wars in the middle east indefinitely. (You may note the similarities in how many news outlets talk about Israel's genocide in Gaza. That terrorist language justifying mass murder is the same.)

Americans are in some ways the picture of fragile masculinity. There had not been a foreign attack against the US since Pearl Harbor, and that shook people. We could not look weak. Weak is the worst thing an American can be, and what weakness means to those folks is nonviolent. They hit one of our cities? We have to destabilize a whole region. Under that was still greed, taking control of resources under the guise of justice, and white supremacy--evil in the early 2000s meant brown skin, nonwestern dress, or any knowledge whatsoever of Islam . So, while I learned many years later that many people opposed the war, I can say honestly, it never crossed my mind that going into Iraq was unreasonable. Everyone I knew--absolutely everyone, saw that action as defending our country, and getting justice for our dead. I would go so far as to say the media--and my family didn't watch fox, this was abc, nbc, all over --made it sound like our military actions were preventing WWIII.

As a progressive, primarily anarchist human being now, who's broken up with that culture and religion, I tell you all this so you can recognize that it is baffling to you because you see the facts of history, but you were not there for the spin they put on it, strong enough to convince people to die in service to greed and hate, and believe they are doing justice and mercy the whole time.

Question the stories your government tells you. Never trust messages of patriotism, even subtle, kind seeming ones. Listen to the voices of the other side, even if it makes you scared or uncomfortable. The brainwashing that fear and patriotism create is powerful, and it took me years to unlearn it.

That war seems insane, but what should tell you more than the confusion we have about it in hindsight is the ardor and love for country that so many Americans felt that fueled it.

I missed most of the Iraq war due to being a baby, but every time I read about it I start wondering why we aren’t all talking about it all of the time

[creatingblackcharacters]

could i please ask for clarification on your post here?

"But I have been questioning. I answer a lot of questions on character design. And there were a ton of submissions for the Black characters and entertainers that we loved. That is all well and good!

However, when I present an opportunity to apply, to create a piece to speak directly to a Black audience, whose support we want, who we claim to want to represent respectfully and ask for so many resources to do so... It seems like it's been a lot quieter."

does this means you would like non-Black people to share their works with Black characters here more? or am i misunderstanding? sorry for the trouble and thanks for all of your resources

It means this:

I will admit, perhaps I was too ambitious in this challenge and I might just cancel it 😅 but we can at least use this as a reflection experience. Everything is a lesson!

We live in a society that often writes media with a white audience in mind. On this page, one of my key goals is to shift your perspective to actively think about your Black audience when you create Black characters, because when you recognize and care about someone's humanity, you recognize that getting the depiction of their humanity correct matters. And thus, you should work more intentionally to get it right.

So when I asked everyone to participate in the challenge in September, to submit all their favorite Black characters and actors- a source of entertainment- everyone had a lot to say. And that was good, we should love Black characters! And every day I am being asked questions with the intent of creation, so clearly something is being attempted!

But when I ask you to apply by showing that same sort of kindness toward the people, to create something specifically for a Black audience for this one time event during Black History Month, there seems to be nerves and confusion.

And it makes me realize I asked the wrong reflection questions in the beginning, when I really should have asked... Who is this effort for, if it's not with your Black audience in mind? Do you actually care about your Black audience, or do you just care about not being perceived as antiblack? Because those are two different things, and these are things we have to be honest with ourselves over if we want to create more intentionally!

I am challenging you to do something that should not be that hard- to openly care about your audience the way you care about using their image- but is something many nonblack creators simply do not consider. And that's why their Black characters so often miss the mark!

[biohazbat]

when I say Damian should quit Robin to be a doctor—I mean he should quit successfully for a few years before facing a horrific scene in which he is the only person who can jump in to triage his vigilante loved ones. And maybe that doesn’t reel him back in immediately, but then he’s faced with new medical challenges—I do like an older Bruce dying of a chronic illness.

He wants to do good. He doesn’t want to fail his family, he just wants to make his own way. Won’t forget how his families taught him kindness, for animals or humans. Won’t abandon his day job or night shift. He starts acting as their in-house EMS. But God help you if you mention what made him come back.

He becomes a clearly-overworked-but-so-good-at-what-he-does doctor with strange hours. He tells people its because he’s on-call to volunteer at an animal shelter. Which is also true actually.

[luvfae]

I have a request for Thanos x Fem

Reader is the toxic red flag and ofc thanos is cause his thanos but reader is like 10 times worse and everyone can see it but him since his whipped- but then again his a shit human to.

Can be outside of games or in games up to you..

He low-key follows her around like a dog, and Nam gyu tries to help him see but thanos is a dumbass, addict and just wants HER so bad. No matter how bad she acts. (Not like his a saint 😭)

BLINDED

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: toxic situationship, swearing, mention of drugs

Thanos never understood when people told him he was being used. It didn’t compute. He had his own demons, his own issues, but when it came to you—there was no question in his mind. You were the only thing that made him feel anything, even if it was pain, even if it was constant chaos.

You were a toxic fucking mess, and everyone saw it. Everyone knew it. Hell, even Nam-Gyu, who didn’t care about much, could see you were playing him. But Thanos? He was blind to it. He couldn’t help but be obsessed with you. It was like his addiction, like the drugs he had been fighting off for years—except this time, you were the high. And it was getting worse.

You treated him like shit, and he loved it. Every time you tossed him aside, he came back crawling. Every insult, every time you pushed him away, it only fueled him more. He thought you were different. He thought you could be his, even if everyone else saw you as a trainwreck waiting to happen.

You didn’t need to try hard. You knew how to manipulate him with a smile, with a glance. You had him on a leash, even if you never fully acknowledged it. Every time you told him to leave you alone, every time you screamed at him, called him names, it was like a twisted form of foreplay. And somehow, he didn’t care.

When you looked at him, even if it was with disdain or contempt, it felt like validation. You could tell him he was worthless, make fun of his fucked-up past, but the way you said it, the way you touched him after, made it seem like you didn’t really mean it. At least, that’s what he told himself.

He’d follow you around like a lost puppy, watching from the shadows, waiting for a chance to make you see him the way he saw you—perfect, special, a bit broken, but just the way he liked it. If he could just prove his worth, maybe you’d stop treating him like trash.

You’d go out, meet guys, flirt openly in front of him, knowing it would drive him crazy, and he’d just stand there, swallowing his jealousy. He had no right to say anything, not after the way he had treated women in the past. You’d laugh in his face, brush him off, pretend he didn’t exist—but when you needed something, when you were feeling low, when you wanted attention, he was there. Always.

One night, after a particularly harsh encounter at a bar, you turned to him with that twisted little smirk on your face. “You know, I think you’re the only guy I know who doesn’t know when to quit,” you said, taking a drag from your cigarette. “God, you’re so pathetic.”

And yet, he loved it. The way you tested his patience, how you broke him down and built him up. It was sick. And he loved every minute of it. You were the high he couldn’t shake.

Meanwhile, Nam-Gyu watched this all unfold, and he couldn’t help but get frustrated with his friend. He had been with Thanos long enough to know that this wasn’t just some casual fling—this was a fucking mess. But Thanos, true to form, was too stubborn, too wrapped up in his feelings for you, to even see it.

One night, after watching Thanos trail after you at a club, following you from across the room like some lovesick dog, Nam-Gyu couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“You need to fucking wake up,” he snapped, grabbing Thanos by the arm and pulling him aside. “You can’t seriously be this fucking blind.”

Thanos just looked at him, confused, his expression so naive that it pissed Nam-Gyu off even more. “What the hell are you talking about?” Thanos muttered.

Nam-Gyu took a breath, trying to rein in his frustration. “You’re letting her walk all over you, man. And I don’t even understand how. She treats you like shit. You’re just another toy for her.”

Thanos shot him a defensive look. “You don’t get it, okay? She’s… different. She needs me.”

“No, Thanos,” Nam-Gyu hissed, staring him dead in the eye. “She doesn’t need you. She fucking uses you. You’re just a fucking idiot for thinking she’ll ever see you as anything more than a lapdog.”

Thanos didn’t respond right away. The words stung, but he was too far gone to process them properly. He shook his head. “She’s not like that. I know she’s fucked up, but I can fix her.”

“You can’t fix her,” Nam-Gyu snapped. “You’re not her fucking savior. You’re just a pawn in her game. She’ll leave you behind the minute she finds someone new to fuck around with. Wake the hell up.”

Thanos clenched his fists, his jaw grinding. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to lose you, no matter how badly you treated him. “I’ll take my chances,” he muttered, brushing past Nam-Gyu. “I’m not giving up on her.”

Nam-Gyu watched him go, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He couldn’t help but feel like a broken record, repeating himself over and over. But nothing ever got through to Thanos. Not when it came to you.

The next few weeks were just more of the same. Thanos kept following you around like a ghost, watching you from the shadows, hoping that if he just tried hard enough, you’d finally see him for what he wanted to be to you. He’d do anything for you. He’d put up with every insult, every moment of neglect, because somehow, in his messed-up mind, it was worth it.

Meanwhile, you had no problem letting him chase you. He was just another way to get attention, to have someone at your beck and call. When you wanted something—money, comfort, or just someone to fight your battles—you knew exactly who to call.

But when you didn’t need him? When you were out having fun with someone else? He was nothing but a ghost, a background character in your life that you didn’t give a second thought.

Still, no matter how bad you treated him, no matter how many times you pushed him away, Thanos stayed. He didn’t see it, but you had him wrapped around your finger—and you always would. You were the poison, and he was addicted. And no matter how many times Nam-Gyu tried to tell him, Thanos couldn’t break free. He didn’t want to.

[finchsflight]

The most important thing, that a lot of people who want this kind of job don't get, is that you have to have an explanation.

And not some namby-pamby 'oh, you see, it was simply up my sleeve, ha ha let's all pretend this didn't happen!'. No, you need a proper, actual, well-thought-through explanation.

(At least, for the kids I show off for. If the parent didn't ever bother getting their kid into the business, or explaining tricks -- eh, you're probably fine. But if they didn't explain the tricks, well, they wouldn't need us, would they?)

The kids -- usually, at least, that I see -- want magic. But half the time they're too smart for their own good, and there's no one who'll think you're a real wizard like a little kid. They want you to be a real wizard. But you need them to think you're just really, really good.

(Y'know. On account of how we don't endanger kids. And if that's an issue for you, then I've got a big stick and you have some fun places I can shove it.)

So that's the first thing. Explanation. Every trick you've got, you better be good and prepared for them to ask you about it, in detail, at the end of the show, and if you don't have good answers, it breaks. Yeah, yeah, a magician never reveals their secrets, but little kids hate being condescended to and they'll have a great time if you show them the props and the 'real magic' behind the magic. Yes, yes, I know, it sounds stupid.

The second thing is, you're showing off, but you're not showing off. Big elemental stuff? Usually a no-no, even if you've got a good and sciency explanation. Partially because, like... if you're doing a science show, you don't need a wand. You can just go buy some liquid nitrogen. World's neat enough as is. And partially because -- look, you're a delight. But listen. You are never as good at lying to small children as you think you are, okay?

If you're gonna need an explanation, well, that means you need explainable stuff. Me, I like kinda theming things off human magicians -- you know, cards, ribbons, vanishing boxes, sleight-of-hand style stuff. A few flashy lights. That sorta thing. They love seeing a card trick that's just impossible enough to be amazing and just possible enough to be explained.

Works to add some things they can actually recognize, too; then they get a little moment where they get to feel like they've got one over on you.

And that leads pretty well to my last one.

Eventually, a kid's gonna ask you how you did something, and you're gonna give your made-up bullshit explanation that you will have gotten really good at delivering, and then either they're gonna say "That's not possible," or they're gonna ask you if you can teach them.

And you're gonna not be able to dismiss it, or you're not gonna be able to say 'sorry, I need to go', and there's gonna be a little kid who figures out that you're a wizard.

Remember what I said? How we don't endanger kids?

This is the part where that gets important.

Feel free to remember them, bookmark their name for when they grow up 'cause you think they might be a good apprentice, whatever. But you do not recruit kids.

And you already know that. So you're not gonna like what I'm about to say, because yes, it's gonna feel icky and terrible and it is, technically, about as illegal as anything can be when you're behind the -- what's the word for it these days?

Masquerade? Oh, man, that's so much better than it used to be. Nice.

Anyway.

Learn how to muddle a kid's memories.

Yeah. I know.

No, I don't like it either.

Only a few times. Thank God.

There's a trick I use, though -- and also makes it a lot less icky -- build a time limiter. Make a spell up, on your own, that is inextricably tied to a time limiter. Make it so it breaks when they're... remind me, what's, like, an age where kids are allowed to make bad choices?

Jesus. That's too young.

Well, let's say, uh... twice that? Twice that. That seems fine.

Don't make it something flashy. Just... let the memories fade back in. And after that, if they find you, it's not a kid, and they can make their own bad choices.

Yeah, I know.

I said it wasn't always a fun job. Wasn't just talking about the bodily fluids -- oh, yeah, that too. They're totally gonna get things on you. Snot, vomit, blood... small children end up bleeding a surprising amount, honestly?

Sure, yeah, I can teach you some cleaning cantrips.

When normal people throw a birthday party for their child, they call in a magician. When magicians throw a birthday party for their child, they call you.

[mrspiastri]

for your valentines event, lando with prompt #17 please?

lando norris x reader

prompt 17. “I used to think Valentine’s Day was overrated. And then I met you.”

💌💌💌

Y/N never cared for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t just that she found it overhyped or commercialized—it was that it had never meant anything good to her. While other kids in school had received love letters and flowers, she had sat through the day unnoticed.

When she was older, the holiday only seemed to remind her of how disposable she had always been to the people in her life. It was easier to dismiss it entirely than to admit that deep down, a small part of her wished she had ever been someone’s first choice.

And then there was Lando.

He was the human embodiment of warmth—laughing too loud, smiling too easily, making even the dullest moments feel golden. And for reasons she couldn’t fathom, he had made it his personal mission to get her to like Valentine’s Day.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered as they walked through the bustling streets, Lando’s arm draped over Y/N’s shoulder. The city was drowning in pink and red, couples strolling hand-in-hand, flower vendors pushing overpriced bouquets. It was suffocating. “I told you, I don’t do Valentine’s Day.”

“You say that every year,” Lando grinned, adjusting his beanie as he glanced at her. “And every year, I take it as a challenge.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. “And every year, you fail.”

“Not true,” he countered, nudging her playfully. “Last year, you actually let me buy you chocolate.”

She scoffed. “That was because I was hungry, not because I enjoy this ridiculous holiday.”

Lando only chuckled, undeterred, before leading her toward a small café tucked into the corner of the street. The warm glow from the windows was inviting against the cold February air. He held the door open for her, and the scent of coffee and cinnamon filled her senses as she begrudgingly stepped inside.

She settled into a seat by the window while he went to order. She watched as couples exchanged gifts, whispering soft words, fingers intertwined like they belonged together. She had never experienced that kind of love. She didn’t believe she ever would.

“Here,” Lando said, placing a mug in front of her. “Extra whipped cream, just how you like it.”

She frowned slightly. “I never said I liked whipped cream.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said with a smug smile. “I pay attention.”

She hesitated before taking a sip. Warmth spread through her, but it wasn’t just from the drink. It was from the way Lando was watching her, like he had just accomplished something important.

“You’re annoying,” she muttered, but there was no sharpness in her tone.

“And yet, you keep me around.” He leaned back in his chair, his grin softening. “I must be doing something right.”

She hated that he wasn’t wrong.

As they left the café and walked toward her apartment, the streets were quieter, the world settling into the kind of hush that only came late at night. Lando was still talking, his voice animated as he recounted stories from his latest race. He was always so full of life, like he had never known loneliness, like he had never spent years wondering if he was enough.

She found herself smiling without meaning to.

Then, just as they reached her building, he stopped abruptly. “Wait, before you go inside—” Lando shifted on his feet, suddenly looking a little nervous.

She frowned. “What?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. “I, uh, got you something.

Y/N blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” He handed it to her, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know you think Valentine’s Day is stupid, but I figured… you never really got to enjoy it properly. So, consider this a redo.”

Her fingers hovered over the ribbon before finally untying it. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, simple yet beautiful, with a small charm in the shape of a tiny race car. She swallowed hard, her throat tightening in a way she wasn’t used to.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she whispered.

“I wanted to,” Lando said softly. “Because you deserve to know what it’s like to have someone care about you today.”

Her chest ached. No one had ever done something like this for her before—not because they had to, not because they wanted something in return. Just because they cared.

She let out a slow breath, her fingers tightening around the box. “I used to think Valentine’s Day was overrated,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “And then I met you.”

Lando’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. For once, he didn’t have a quick reply. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers before intertwining them fully. His touch was warm—steady, like he had been waiting for this moment all along.

“Guess that means I win this year’s challenge,” he murmured, giving her hand a small squeeze.

She exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

He smiled, tugging her a little closer. “Too late.”

And for the first time in her life, Y/N thought that maybe, just maybe, Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

[dunmeshistash]

Chilchuck Revealed in Five Keywords

5 keywords section from the Adventurer's Bible, this is transcribed from the EHScans translation for more info you can check this post. My own notes will be at the end of the post.

1. Encounter

Laios and Chilchuck were first introduced to each other through a member of the half-foot guild, Dandan. Though at the time Chilchuck was considering retiring from participating in dungeon expeditions due to his age, no other half-foots had the expertise necessary to accompany Laios to such a deep floor of the dungeon, so he agreed to go with them. Incidentally, the average lifespan for half-foots is around 50 years old. Since Chilchuck is the equivalent of about 50 years old by the standards of a modern human*, this would have been quite an early retirement for him. He intended to become a locksmith after quitting adventuring.

2. Weight Management

Compared to the average half-foot, Chilchuck is on the taller side. Accordingly, his body weight is greater as well, which means it's easier for him to set off traps. He's very meticulous and careful about maintaining his body weight at an acceptable level. However, after Senshi took over cooking duties for the group, he's become a hearty eater and his body weight keeps creeping up steadily.

3. Liquor

Chilchuck is a heavy drinker. Apparently his father died from excessive drinking, but Chilchuck thinks that dying while doing something you love isn't the worst way to go. Thus, he makes no effort to avoid alcohol, and heartily partook of the homebrewed beverages made by the residents of the Golden Castle.

4. Family

Chilchucks family consists of his wife and three daughters; all three of the latter are already independent. He and his wife were childhood friends, and they are the same age. She currently lives at their middle daughter's house. The panels shown bellow are** from one of Marcille's fantasies, and only Chilchuck knows the truth behind what really happened. In any case, since any lingering doubts about him cheating on his wife were cleared away, Chilchucks reputation amongst the women in the party (mainly Marcille) was mended.

5. Appearance

With their youthful faces and short stature, many half- foots are seen as adorable by others. Some of them use that to their advantage to do things like ingratiate themselves with people of other races or to commit crimes. Chilchuck thinks that though such actions may have short term benefits for the individual in question, in the long run it causes others to look down on the half-foot race as a whole, and loathes his brethren that use their appearances in that manner.

------

*This part causes a lot of confusion, it says he's "the equivalent of about 50 years old by the standards of a modern human". I think this comparison isn't about objective age (29 being the equivalent of 50 would be like half-foots living to be the equivalent of 86 on average, that's 10 years more than modern human average), I think it's more likely about what his life stage is compared to humans today. The average lifespan for half-foots in Dungeon Meshi is 50 so he still got 21 years left on that, which would be similar to a modern day 50yo retiring (Average global life expectancy irl is a bit over 70). (Edit: btw, converting his age to tallman using this conversion chart we get 33, which I think is more accurate than 50)

**Original translation by EHScans says "panel shown to the left is(..)" but I adjusted the wording to match the post format

Stats

Timelines

Official version bellow the cut

[acourtofthought]

I agree with your post that Azriel was an asshole in that scene 100%. But I think making it seem like Elain didn’t have a choice whatsoever in that moment is also why people keep saying the fandom infantilizes her. She was wrong too for thinking it was okay to do that especially when Lucien was there. Again I agree that Azriel acted like an ass there, but Elain wasn’t forced to do anything with him. Let’s start treating her like the adult she is in this fandom. If you want Azriel to apologize to Elain, then Elain should apologize to Azriel too because she was aware she’s a mated female and still chose to accept that kiss.

I actually don't agree with this take and it sounds like you're confusing infantilizing a character with what is you wrongly thinking a female somehow owes a guy something. A guy who, even if she's confused and secretly wants him, has not at this time been giving him any mixed signals therefore her actions were not in any way "cheating" or disloyal.

How was Elain in the wrong for exploring something outside of one likely super serious commitment after she just got out of a super serious commitment when she has currently made no commitment to anyone?

I LOVE Lucien, my heart breaks for Lucien but I also realize how much Elain has gone through.

Lucien lost Jesminda but spent the next how many centuries having casual liaisons with others. Yet for some reason people think Elain has to go from an engagement with Graysen immediately into a super serious mating bond which is a forever sort of thing. Somehow she has to accept her bond with Lucien RIGHT NOW because .....? Why? Why is she not allowed to have a hot girl summer before maybe deciding to explore the thing someone else decided for her. Make no mistake, I am all here for Elucien's story and the reluctant soul mates / arranged marriage trope but that doesn't mean she's not entitled to take time to herself without worrying about Lucien's feelings. Did you forget everything she's been through in the last two years on their timeline? Lost her entire life in the human lands, rejected by her fiance, forced to become a species she grew up fearing, had to stab someone, lost her father and on top of that everyone seems to expect that she focus on Lucien. Everyone but Lucien of course because he's a complete green flag which is why he is her endgame. But she's allowed to be a 24 year old girl processing trauma even if that means having a meaningless fling just to see if she's ready to get back on the dating horse.

Rarely does the fandom fault Nesta for all but confessing her love to Cassian, being willing to die by Cassian's side then turning around and (without any sort of discretion) sleeping with MANY other males, something he was fully aware of. I also do not remember Sarah having Nesta apologize to him for sleeping with others.

Elain did not set out to hook up with Az that night, she thought everyone was asleep. And yes, Lucien was in the house but as far as we know he was also asleep and not aware which means she was a lot more discreet than Nesta had been.

Elain does not need to apologize to Az for anything because Az was fully aware she has a mating bond. They both chose not to discuss her mating bond, Az never asked her whether she planned on rejecting it which means he was fine moving forward without those answers. And just because she has a bond doesn't mean she owes Lucien loyalty. Again, Nesta suspected Cassian was something to her yet she still went on to hook up with multiple others.

Infantilizing Elain is when others act like she's the only person who never had a choice therefore she HAS to end up with Az, that somehow ending up with Lucien isn't a choice because "we need to respect what she wants" as if she's not a fictional character whose wants can change from one book to the next.

Acknowledging that Az hurt Elain in that moment and not the other way around is what happened and I think if you somehow think Elain needs to apologize to HIM than that is you infantilizing a 500 something year old guy with communication issues.

Edit thanks to @zenkindoflove :- Here's your apology from Elain, anon: She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I'm sorry." "You don't - Don't apologize he managed to say. "Never apolgize. It's I who should...." He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he'd brought to her expression. "Goodnight."

The 24 year old apologized to HIM when he called things a mistake after he was the one who left his hands on her neck then titled her head. And instead of saying, "It's I who should apologize, I'm so sorry" he just decided he couldn't handle telling her he was sorry.

[froegis]

but it’s not funny. why would wishing rape on anyone ever be okay? no matter who they are or what you think they believe? in what circumstance is that ever a valid wish? because you think pro-life people are actively forcing women to give birth, and each one of us is a malicious man who hates women and is okay with rape? have you ever talked in depth to someone who is pro-life, asked them what they think and believe, without getting your information from a biased source catered to your viewpoint, without immediately deciding they are evil because they have a different point of view, without deciding what you think they believe?

to clear things up, talk about abortions that occur because of inconvenience, which is the majority of abortions (which is what we try to talk about most of the time, but pro-choice people often choose to clump all types of abortions into one big category, equating abortions of rape with abortions of convenience.) so abortions not of rape, not of incest, not to save the mother, all of which you conveniently focus on in this conversation without addressing the reason 90% of abortions occur.

abortion is used massively as birth control when people have sex, get pregnant, and decide they don’t want to face the consequence of that action. deciding to “prevent a clump of cells from becoming a baby”, as you so delicately put it, is killing a baby for your own convenience, after choosing to have sex and choosing to face the risk of getting pregnant. that’s what that is. preventing a clump of cells designed to BE a baby is killing a baby. “preventing something from living” is the same thing as killing.

i am a woman, so you cannot possibly throw out that prolifers have no empathy for women when there are prolife people who are women. how does that not click?? you are literally just saying words to say words and incite negative emotions in the reader. there are so many women who have been through hell yet still believe that clump of cells you think is nothing is actually a growing human being with a future. i have met a girl who went through the craziest shit imaginable done to her by her immediate family, and she had a kid. it’s absolutely tragic, and yet she still told me how much she loves her little girl, and that she doesn’t understand how someone could think of ending the life an innocent human before they even get the chance to breathe. i know that’s just a case of one person and i don’t intend to use that as a catch-all argument by any means. i only want to call attention to the women like her, and i want to make it clear that they exist and you erase their survival and insult their dignity when you throw such accusations around.

still don’t understand how wishing rape on someone could be excused, yet here you are, excusing it with a premise that is entirely false and not at all the reality of prolife people or our beliefs.

and im pretty sure wishing rape on anyone is evil. no matter what. that should be pretty clear, out of anything. there is nothing that could ever excuse that. the hatred you speak of, which you claim we push onto women having abortions, is coming suspiciously from your own mouth.

i’m truly curious about how you would treat a woman who had sex and got an abortion as birth control versus a woman who was raped and decided to keep the baby because she believed it would be wrong for her to get an abortion. if she decided to speak up about it, would you support her as a survivor? would you hear her out or listen to a word she says? or in your eyes, is she a woman-killer and a forced-birther because she identifies as prolife and advocates for something she believes (which by the way, is no different from what you do)?

what is the difference between these two hypothetical women? i am genuinely curious what you think, because i have seen people who are pro choice praise the woman who got an abortion for exercising her right to bodily autonomy, then turn right around and wish the other woman more rape and death for keeping the child and for advocating for something she believes to be true with her whole heart (which, again, is no different from the other woman). and i truly cannot understand the logic behind that.

there is no excuse. wishing rape on anyone, regardless of their beliefs, is no less evil than the prolife person in your brain who is actively “forcing” women to give birth.

I think all pro-lifers should be raped, forced to have the baby (no exceptions), and become forced to raise it for 18-20 years just to see how it feels

[thiccpersonality]

The Difficulties of The Working Class (Just Clark Kent): A Beautiful Omega, His Pups and The Fact He Wants Both

Happy Valentine's Day my loves! I know this isn't a post for that Damian story, nor is it the 5+2 that I'm doing, but I did say that I was working on a 5k+ superbat story (that obviously didn't stay 5k+ words). I kept myself up the whole night just to be able to post this on today, though sadly I won't be able to make a double post like how I wanted, but I hope this will suffice?

I really hope everyone is able to find some humor and love within this story? 😂 Enjoy! 💛

Being a reporter can be a pretty rough job...or so Clark assumes. It doesn't make him as physically drained as his very human coworkers, however, the Kryptonian can often feel mentally and emotionally overwhelmed depending on who it is he's talking to and what exactly he's researching. 

And maybe it's just his body's way of trying to relate to earthlings?

But, Clark often feels a physical weight on his shoulders or back when a scoop is particularly difficult to look into, or his legs get phantom aches and pains in them when he's been moving too much. All the bodily discomfort he tends to feel is most likely just Clark taking what he's heard the people around him complaining about daily and trying his best to imagine that for himself—again—in anyway to try relating to the humans around him, all to show that he's not too different. Anyway, Clark could go on forever talking about his identity crisis, but that isn't what this is about. 

No.

This is something much bigger than any stories he could ever chase down.

'Why', you ask?

That's a very good question. It's because most of Clark's mental, emotional and physical distress comes with one eligible bachelor's children. 'Who?' You ask this time instead. Well, one Bruce Thomas Wayne and his hoard of children...or demons? Clark isn't too sure on what exactly those—creatures are yet.

Figuring out if Bruce Wayne's children are also an alien species like himself, an experiment gone wrong, or demons that crawled their way out of hell, is a mystery that Clark has yet to solve at this moment in time. But all is well—if nothing else—than because everyone's beloved Kryptonian has found himself growing closer to Bruce everytime they do an interview together. It's honestly like a dream come true...ah, having those strikingly blue eyes on you that is, not the hoard of gremlins children that stare into your soul from afar off because they most definitely know that you have a crush on their mother and do their very best to make your life miserable and your job impossible.

Clark can't say that he knows for sure how they feel when seeing someone try to flirt with your mother during business hours, and eye him like he's eye candy. But, he supposes he could understand feeling protective over the only parent/person who–out of their love and kindness–took you into their home and loves you for who you are.

You see.

Not much is known about the Wayne childrens parents. It's something that hardly anyone talks about, and while there have already been released (and confirmed) statements on how all of Bruce's children (except one) is adopted, most people-including Clark himself-wonder if that's all true. I mean, most of Bruce's kids look like they could be his by blood...especially the Wayne brothers, and there's also the possibility that the rest took after their birth fathers more than the billionaire himself.

But in all honesty. That's not a thought Clark tries to dwell on too much...he gets...jealous whenever the thought of Bruce sleeping around with anyone that isn't him pops up in this useless brain of his.

Which Clark truly feels guilty for feeling. Isn't that, what did one of Bruce's kids put it as, red flag behavior right there? I mean, they aren't even together, so why should he be concerning himself about who Mr. Wayne sleeps with? The answer: he doesn't know. Which is making Clark start to feel disheartened at the fact he ends up with more questions than answers, he's a reporter for goodness sakes! That's all he does is find answers to questions left untouched and unsolved. Anyhow, Bruce's kids make his job so much more exhausting than it needs to be (or should be) for him. I mean, when he said he wanted to feel human, he didn't mean for it to be in the form of the world's most menacing kids making him feel like he aged as gracefully as forgotten milk in the fridge.

No matter though.

Because Clark can put all his worries behind himself—please don't ask why again; he'll tell you this time. It's because he gets to interview (again) for the fourth time in the same year and month, his unofficial lover crush/boss, Bruce Wayne.

The man's smile can make Clark feel like he can do anything both in and out of his suit (civilian and superhero). He makes him feel indestructible, as if even Kryptonite wouldn't be able to take him down. Which maybe that's the secret weapon? Clark should give it a try sometime. But, the man and everything he exudes does wonder for Clark's health, especially when those soft, fair skinned cheeks flush a pretty pink whenever Clark looks at him a certain way when interviewing...there's always a pleasant smell that escapes Bruce Wayne's scent patches whenever Clark flusters him, a smell that only the Kryptonian can detect and bask in.

A fact that makes that possessive side of Clark simmer down like a dog finally given a bone after growling and barking for it.

And when looking at Bruce.

What a pretty bone he is. Clark wouldn't mind biting on that one any day.

Ahem! Where were we? Clark is being extremely unprofessional right now...he's about to go interview his crush/boss and he can't be thinking such thoughts while interviewing the other, or else nothing but intense staring and heavy breathing will ensue after simply looking at the man sitting in his seat with that beautiful smile on his face to welcome him.

Which Clark wouldn't mind staring at Bruce all day. But the other might not appreciate it, and might even fire him for looking so creepy.

And if he's fired. There's no more getting to hold in-depth conversations with Bruce and hear that soft as silk voice caress his eardrums like a gentle lover. He won't be able to see the billionaire's carefully sculpted (yet somehow delicate) face flush a soft pink whenever Clark brings up something he actually enjoys.

.

..

...

....

Oh, yeah...and there's also the fact that if he's fired, he won't be working anywhere ever again. There's also that.

But today is a day to be free of any burdens built up over the past few months of carefully inspected stories and grueling hours of getting the scoop on people that don't want to talk. Because Clark is now sitting (im)patiently in Bruce Wayne's lobby, waiting to be told by the too stern receptionist (her name is Clara) that he's okay to head on up to the office. Even if it's always the same routine of him being allowed up before the interview actually starts...Clara sure is stubborn about him actually going up when he's allowed (she claims he's too early and should just be on time for once. Rude).

Clark jiggles his leg up and down in an anticipatory manner, sighing softly as he stands up from his seat and heads over to Clara's desk, the woman only giving him a warning glance as he leans onto her desk before continuing to clack away at her keyboard.

"So...Clara-"

The strawberry blonde sighs, pushing her stark white cat eye glasses up her nose when they slip. "Mr. Kent. I swear if you are here to ask me, 'can I go up now?' one more time, I'm going to lollipop your throat with my pen." The receptionist rolls her eyes when hearing the defeated whine escaping the beta's lips, glancing up from her computer to look at the pouting reporter, raising a brow unimpressed at the behavior. "You are a grown man with a job, not a pup, please remain professional. And do you really think Mr. Wayne's children would accept a father who acts just like they do?"

Clara smiles victoriously at catching the taller off guard, basking in the embarrassed sputtering escaping from Clark.

"I-I don't—I'm not-" Clark looks around nervously to make sure no one heard them, narrowing his eyes at the female omega when she speaks up again, her voice amused while the corners of her lips tilt up impishly. "What? The only people around are you and I. Unless you're suddenly afraid of the chairs and walls talking about how embarrassing you are. Do you even realize how pitiful it is to see you trail after Mr. Wayne like a lost dog? And you always come way earlier than you need to and it always ends up the same routine." 

Clark's flush deepens at how matter of fact the woman is about this...he's not that easy to read...is he?

"I-It wouldn't be the same if you just let me up early. You know Bru-Mr. Wayne doesn't mind it."

Clara snorts and shakes her head, "Well, I'm not Mr. Wayne, am I? I'm just a humble receptionist trying to do her job without bumbling Metropolitan reporter's disturbing me while receptioning." Clark's brow furrows and he groans while resting his cheek in his hand dejectedly, "Receptioning isn't a word, Clara. Are you sure you can't just-" he cuts himself off when seeing the omega reach for her pen. "You aren't a word, Kent. And I swear if you ask me to send you upstairs." Clark frowns in offense at the woman's implied threat, staring at the hand that squeezes the pen defensively. "First off, that doesn't make any sense. And second, you really meant that? About lollipopping me with a pen?! But...but it's such an expensive looking pen, surely it'd be a waste of money just to harm me?"

Clara twirls the object between her slim fingers, her smile pleased and relaxed. "I could afford it. Now, go sit down." Before Clark can raise another protest, a small child's voice speaks up from behind the man. "Good afternoon, Ms. Clara, is this...intruder disturbing you?" 

Both Clara and Clark turn their gazes onto Damian Wayne, the small pup giving the larger male an assessing look before clicking his tongue. "Oh, it's you...again. Why haven't you kicked him out yet?" Clara smiles at the boy and sighs, "I've tried. Your mother just so happens to really like Mr. Kent's interviews...so here he is for yet another one. Are you here for lunch, sir? It seems a bit early to be out of school, doesn't it?" Damian tuts and straightens up his school uniform, lifting his nose high into the air and brushing off imaginary dust. "I got into trouble today. The only reason mother does not know about it is because he was doing something of the utmost importance today-" he side eyes Clark suspiciously and tiptoes up so that he can loudly whisper to Clara-"This Metropolitan invader isn't the...important thing, is he?"

Clara looks Clark up and down, taking in the cheap suit (that's one of the man's better one's) and clunky tie (which aren't bad things, she just likes teasing the man) before chuckling and whispering back. "No, it's definitely not him."

Before the beta can protest, Clara clears her throat, "Alright. Alright. Your mom would be cross with us if he heard us teasing his—friend. How about I send you upstairs to your mom? I'm sure he'd be happy to see you despite getting into trouble. And no matter what he may say, I am proud of you for throwing a nice punch to whoever troubled you."

Damian nods his head and gives a small, but genuine, smile at the receptionist. "Thank you. I'll have to remind mother to give you a raise."

Clark sighs and moves away from the desk, inching closer to his seat before Damian snaps his fingers towards him. "Straggler, you're coming up with me. It's always so pitiful seeing you sit there alone...like a dog left in the rain." When the man refuses to move, Damian looks over his shoulder to raise a brow at the other. "Are you coming or not?" Clark practically vibrates in excitement and speed walks to the open elevator, playfully sticking his tongue out at Clara before the doors close. "U-Uh, thank you so much for allowing me to come up with you! But what's with everyone comparing me to a sad, lost or wet dog?"

Damian just hums noncommittally while loosening the tie around his neck, he hates these things and wishes whoever invented them had a horrible life.

Clark clears his throat at the silence and works on fixing his hair and tie before stepping out of the elevator with the small pup, willingly ignoring the piercing glare sent his way as they both stand outside the omega's office. "Listen up, Kent. I'm going to enter first, because my face is the first one my mother should see, and then after that you can come ruin everything with your sudden appearance, okay?" Clark feels like crying. He doesn't know what he did wrong to get Bruce's kids to be (what is it that Jason says) out of pocket with him, but he just nods slowly and nervously stands as far away from the door as possible so that he's not seen through the glass by the hardworking omega.

Damian narrows his eyes at the taller one last time before opening up the door and smiling brightly at his mother once getting his attention, "Hello mother. How is everything going today?"

Bruce blinks in surprise for a moment before immediately pushing away from his desk and standing up to greet his baby son, "Damian? What are you doing here, baby? Did something happen at school today? Why are you here? Did-" the omega suddenly looks distressed-"did someone get hurt?" Damian hugs onto the omega's legs, rubbing his neck on the soft fabric of the pants so that Bruce smells like pup. "I'm here because I wanted to see you, mommy. I got in trouble at school because someone-as per usual-was being an idiot. Again, I'm here cause I'm in trouble and wanted to see you. And the only person that got hurt was that little idiot at school. But, if someone were to get hurt that we know, I bet it'd be that idiot brother of mine."

Bruce slowly finds himself relaxing as his questions were answered one by one, gently running his hand through his pup's hair while shaking his head fondly.

"I've told you about getting into fights at school if you can help it, baby. But, I'm always happy to see my little boy." Bruce purrs happily and picks Damian up, "Please try not to call your classmates idiots...even if it can seem true sometimes. And don't call your brothers idiots either...though, which one are you talking about hurting himself?" Damian nuzzles into his mom's neck with a small squeak, "I don't know? Maybe the one that would do a flip off of the Empire State Building just to prove he could do it all because he was in the circus. Oh, or the one that would encourage the stupid behavior of the first one. Or, the one who would die because he can't properly care for himself–oh, wait a minute. That's all of them."

Bruce sighs softly and bumps his forehead softly against Damian's, "Don't be that way to them. All of my babies are very smart, and I won't have anyone, even you, saying otherwise."

Damian gets so caught up in snuggling his mother, that he almost forgets about the reporter he (practically) promised to let see Bruce. Key word being: almost, as the sudden flash of a horrid looking patched pattern of the man's sleeve, seen out the corner of his eyes, jump scares the poor boy into looking out of the window and towards Clark Kent, who looks dejectedly into the glass as though he wants to be a part of what's going on.

Ugh! He really is pitiful.

Damian clears his throat and quickly scents Bruce more before speaking up, "Ah...yes. I almost forgot that I wasn't the only one to come up here to visit you-" he directs his snuggle drunk mom's soft gaze to the reporter in the window-"That...reporter you insist be one of the only people to interview you is right outside. It wasn't time for your appointment yet, but I brought him up with me anyway." Because he looks like a kicked dog whenever he sees him, is left unsaid, but he's sure his mom understands. Damian pouts slightly at the way Bruce perks up and looks towards the door, a startled flush tinting the omega's cheeks pink as he automatically makes sure his hair and suit look good for his special guest. "Why didn't you bring him in with you? I look like a horrible person making him wait outside like this."

Damian clings onto the omega tightly, pursing his lips in displeasure while glaring at where the beta stands outside.

"Maybe he should learn how to actually be punctual for once in his life, rather than coming when you aren't yet prepared. And mother could never look terrible-" the pup perks up when complimenting the omega, his squishy cheeks rounding out until his eyes squint as he smiles-"you are the prettiest person ever. I look like you, so I must be pretty too." Bruce chuckles fondly at the compliment and peppers his son's chubby face with kisses, "You and your siblings are such flatterers, you know that? And you-" he boops Damian's button nose softly-"are adorable. You're just my pup, my baby, my little boy whom I love so dearly." Damian shouts in mock protest as he's cuddled close to his mom's chest, accidentally giggling when the older playfully bites the ticklish side of his neck and squirming as the omega keeps it up with a few laughs of his own. "M-Momma—stooop!" Bruce blows a raspberry into the tan skin and inhales the calming scent of his pup, getting one last tickle in before kissing the boy's face.

"Okay, okay. I stopped. Satisfied?"

Damian hides his face in Bruce's neck, raising his shoulders up to his jawline just as a precaution while nodding. "Yes."

Bruce smiles softly and kisses the crown of his pup's head before shaking off his nerves and opening up the door for Clark, looking up at the tall beta fondly when he just stands in place. "I hope I haven't become a stranger to you?" Clark snaps out of his daze when the omega addresses him, blinking away the brain fog and smiling down happily at finally seeing the man of his dreams. "H-Huh?"

Clark scratches the back of his head bashfully when Bruce giggles at him, "What? What did I do? Why are you laughing at me?"

The omega scrunches his nose in an attempt to stop laughing. A thing that usually isn't hard for the billionaire as he controls his facial expressions all the time being Batman, but leave it to Clark to achieve what seems like the impossible. "I-It's not you, per se, not in a bad way. I just think that you're cute-" Bruce smiles kindly and ushers the taller into the room, unaware of the now disgruntled pup in his arms-"You usually are so talkative whenever you come up, but some reason you are being really quiet this time." Clark can feel the air leave his lungs as Bruce flutters his long eyelashes up at him, the look screaming genuine in a way that the omega usually doesn't show in public, as though this is just Bruce himself choosing to do this and not Brucie.

Something about it also is a bit more reserved and shy than usual as he juts out his lower lip into a pout.

"Has my beauty finally stunned you into silence, maybe?"

Clark doesn't know what he looks like right now...but he knows it's probably stupid. His brain feels like it's turned into mush at how...soft and eager the omega looks as he asks the question.

'Everything about you has.'

Is what Clark thinks...or that's what he thought he thought at least. He must have said it out loud as Bruce's pout disappears into a surprised look, as though his mind is processing what was said before he ducks his head shyly.

Yeah, he definitely said something out loud. The look Damian is giving Clark makes the man fear for his life.

"U-Uh...I'm sorry for saying that out loud...ha, ha, ha. I just—you—I never really have gotten to see you interact with your kids much, you know? They usually rush off when I'm around or don't talk. So, it was nice to see you be...uh, a mom just now."

The silence is deafening.

God, why is it so quiet?

Clark blushes something fierce and feels like being launched into a red sun, anything to escape the embarrassment of his big mouth. However, the regret is quickly replaced with one of satisfaction as that pleasing scent from before escapes Bruce's scent patches...and it smells...pleased? Happy? Satisfied?

Clark swallows nervously and stands a little taller, clearing his throat to get Bruce to look back up at him before giving the final tier to his compliment cake. "And I just think that it's a great look on you. I can tell you love your pups dearly, Bruce. And that's admirable." He holds his breath. Gosh, he hopes that didn't sound demeaning or anything? That's definitely not the route Clark was trying to go, but what if that's how he made it sound? He just...just thinks being a mom fits Bruce, especially witnessing that affection in person. It's almost unreal how gorgeous the man acts when he's...acting like a mother.

Oh, gosh.

Does that sound horrible?

Clark slowly spirals internally the longer Bruce just stares at him. Is this some weird fetish thing he has? He's not just thinking this way because he's objectifying being an omega or a mother?

Because if so. Someone should just shoot him with Kryptonite for being like a lot of these alphas in the world.

But, by only nothing short of a miracle, Bruce finally reacts with the deepest blush he's pulled from the omega yet. That hidden scent that only Clark can smell drifting the hidden alpha's way, causing his pupil's to dilate at the happy and (admittedly) alluring smell coming from the shorter. It should be impossible to smell this good, shouldn't it? Clark fists his suit pants at the overwhelming scents coming from the omega, detecting a smell that is more similar to–no? No way.

Clark inhales deeply (without being noticed) and closes his eyes for just a second to focus on that one particular smell, stiffening up when realizing the omega is releasing a scent of gratification.

And he wouldn't call it a sexual one exactly.

Even though there is a hint of that sort of pleasure in the scent as well.

No.

Right now. Right now Bruce seems to be releasing a scent similar to the one's omegas release when they find a desirable mate.

Clark's eyes bug open. Internally screaming, gagging, throwing up (all in good ways. I promise) at how his simple words have caused Bruce to react in such a way.

The reporter has to fight his inner alpha so hard right now. It's jumping the gun and practically demanding he make Bruce his right now so that the omega's family can finally become his own and they can get an early start of making pups of their own. But, he has to remind that eager part of him that Bruce's kids seem to not even like him...and that is one of the most important steps is to at least have them be comfortable enough around him before doing anything with or to the omega.

Bruce's soft voice finally speaks up, cutting through some of Clark's troublesome thoughts. "I...u-um..."

Clark feels like howling with his inner alpha at the sight of the shorter hiding his still red face in Damian's fluffy hair. "Thank you...t-that is always such a-a compliment to me. It reassures me that I'm doing something right with these pups of mine." Bruce looks up at the alpha before glancing away timidly and turning his gaze back up to the taller man once more, the way his cheeks push up and round out all to similar to Damian's face when he smiles big, the sight enough to have Clark wanting to bow and thank the omega for gracing him with such a sight. "Especially coming from you, Clark. I...admire you a lot, so thank you for the compliment-" he hesitates for a moment before pushing onwards-"and I'm sure that whatever omega gets to be yours someday will be so lucky."

It takes everything inside of Bruce to say that last part. A slightly bitter feeling in his mouth as the weight of what he just said settles on his tongue.

Before Clark can respond to the comment, a puppy's call bursts the two adults bubbles, both men looking down at Damian who's face is now lifted from the omega's neck. The boy huffs and squeaks in irritation while fisting his mom's suit jacket in his small hands and tugging desperately, "He's not cute!" Bruce and Clark are both taken aback by the random outburst, the omega rubbing Damian's back comfortingly as he thinks about what he did wrong.

A subtle hand movement from the corner of his eyes gets Bruce's attention, the man looking up at Clark and furrowing his brows curiously as the man mouths something to him.

The omega squints at the taller man's lips in concentration before the realization hits him.

That's right. He called Clark cute earlier.

Bruce tries to hold back his amused chuckle and bounces the pup slightly to get his attention, "Ah...is this because I said Clark is cute?" Damian's brows furrow more and he lets out a small growl, looking betrayed as his mother responds by giggling at him. Bruce coos at the hurt look he receives from the boy and clears his throat, "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to laugh. But adorable and cute are two different things, right? I think adorable is much more endearing than cute is."

Damian perks up at that and smiles innocently, "So that means he's actually ugly?"

Bruce shakes his head and looks at Clark apologetically, "That's not what that means. I just think that out of the both of you..." he trails off to build anticipation, smirking slightly at the insistent tugs to hurry up from his pup. Surprising the boy by suddenly attacking his neck again. "That you are my baby-" a ticklish nibble to the soft skin-"my pup-" a gentle brush of his nose to the neck glands-"my everything in life and more!" Bruce ends with a loud, over exaggerated eating noise to the neck as he digs into that weak spot, chuckling himself at the squirming pup's loud belly laughs as he tries to escape the omega's attack. "And therefore, that means that out of the two of you, your cuteness will always triumph his." Damian squeals (though he would insist otherwise) at Bruce getting one last nibble in before releasing him, causing the boy to slump against his chest again, his small hands releasing the collar of his mother's suit to now wrap around his tie absentmindedly. "Okay-" he purses his lips and fiddles with the tie-"I'll stake my claim on both titles until I'm pretty like you."

Bruce's face hurts from all the smiling he's doing right now, but he hums in satisfaction at how his pup is learning to be content with being a child more and more everyday. Placing a gentle kiss to the pup's forehead before refocusing on Clark.

"I'm sorry for taking so long to start our interview. I'm pretty sure we should have started already?"

Bruce smiles apologetically before heading towards his desk chair, making sure Damian is situated just fine in his lap before gesturing for the beta to take his seat. "Don't be a stranger today. We'll do everything as usual, the only difference is that Damian is here for it. Okay?"

The only difference?

Does the omega truly not realize what he's doing to Clark and all of his instincts and desires right now? How can he focus on everything else when all he wants to do is watch Bruce be a mom all day, and he truly means that respectfully. It's probably dangerous how...fulfilled Clark himself feels just from watching the family–heck, even reading about them in the papers is enough to bring out that warm, fluffy feeling of contentment. As though he's watching a family of his own just simply be.

Sigh...

Clark realizes how much he wants to have a family of his own every time he's around the omega.

But what's worse is the constant realization and confirmation that he wants all of those things with Bruce alone. And isn't that taking his wishes too far? All of those little moments with Bruce that seem like flirting are probably just in his head, right? I mean, he definitely is probably a little bit obsessed with the other in some way, probably to the point of imagining the other flirting back, amongst other things as well, cause Clark is positive it's not too normal to envision a whole life with someone you only talk to for work. And he's also positive that you probably shouldn't have dreams where said person you talk to only for work is carrying your pups inside him...and not even in the sexy, you turn me on sense, but quite literally imagining the ways you can love and care for your pregnant mate who works so hard everyday.

And while Clark knows he might be a little obsessed.

He also knows that he's terribly, undeniably, truthfully, a lot-fully in love right now.

Clark's shoulders slump slightly at the thought. He sounds like Clara right now with the made up word...so that must mean he really is in love.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Clark places a careful smile back on his face and takes his usual seat, pulling out everything he'll need to do this interview. "I could never be a stranger to you, and I would never want to be." 

Because I hope to be more than that to you someday.

Clark sighs softly at his own thoughts, distracting himself by smiling at Damian instead. "Also, if he would like to, and if it's allowed, I'm sure the Planet would love to hear a few words from Mr. Damian." Bruce's eyes widen slightly in surprise, a doubtful look overtaking his features at the suggestion. "I don't know...I don't really like having the children in the news if I can help it, Mr. Kent-"

Clark interrupts Bruce with a calm smile, taking the omega's breath away as he looks at the other.

"I thought you asked me not to be a stranger with you today? Why are you suddenly calling me Mr. Kent?" Clark messes with his pen and holds eye contact with Bruce, his smile remaining open while his eyes suddenly hold a seriousness within them. "And you don't have to do anything that you're uncomfortable with, Bruce. If you don't want Damian to be in the papers, even if it's just with a quote, then he doesn't need to be. That's your choice ultimately as his guardian to make."

Ah! Why is Clark always so thoughtful?! It makes the omega's heart flutter and his stomach to tingle.

Bruce smiles thankfully at the other man, his posture relaxing at the beta's understanding, looking down when Damian taps on his hand to get his attention. "Do I not get a say in what I want to do?" The boy grumbles and crosses his arms to show how he doesn't agree with what's going on, huffing more when his mom just gives him that same amused smile once more. "I'm sorry. But you don't, not in these cases. You know that I consider it, but the choice is ultimately up to me, especially with those of you who are still underage...and I don't think I could handle seeing the comments people would, could and will make about you guys. And you know that no matter what, the media always finds a way to portray anyone horrible, even children. You all have enough troubles on your own...I'd hate to add onto that by shoving your faces in the news too."

Damian sighs softly and concedes to the rule by snuggling back into the omega's side. "Fine...but people find a way to talk about everyone in our family anyway and they barely know about us. It's not our fault we are iconic and they can't help but to talk about it all the time."

Bruce pats the boy's head for his obedience and laughs at how much Damian is picking up his older siblings ways of speaking.

"Thank you, puppy. And until the day you and all your...iconic-ness can be seen in public, you'll stay right here hidden away with me. Doesn't that sound better?" Bruce tilts his head down and to the side as he asks, humming happily when Damian snuggles more into his body, his small arms tightening around the omega's waist as his answer. "Well, since that's settled, Clark, would you like to begi-" Bruce sighs at the interruption from his desk phone, whispering a quick apology to Clark before picking it up and signing into the receiver. "Clara...what are you doing? You know I'm supposed to be having an interview right now?"

Clark does his best not to look like he's listening in on the conversation. Distracting himself with small doodles of his and Bruce's names put together on the back of his notebook in different fonts.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt the meeting we both know hasn't started yet. But, Mr. Hannington showed up for a meeting, or so he claims, and he isn't leaving no matter how much I insist that he has the dates mixed up. He told me to tell you that it's an emergency, but if you don't feel like coming down, I can just call security on him." Bruce rubs at his temple tiredly and sighs once again, "Why would you call security on him? He's a seventy-five-year-old man with memory problems. Tell him I'll be right on down and that I'm sorry for my misunderstanding, maybe find him something to snack on while I finish things up here, okay." 

Clara makes a suspicious sounding noise on the other side of the phone, her computer keys clacking away and her voice lowering as she whispers. "You never know what a seventy-five-year-old man can be capable of, but I'll do what you said right away, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce sighs tiredly at the woman's paranoia (that's rich coming from him) and puts the phone back on its stand, clearing his throat to get the reporters attention, his icy blue eyes apologetic as he stares at the taller man. "I'm so sorry to cut this short when things barely even got started...but there's an older gentleman downstairs who usually comes around unexpectedly, expecting me to have a meeting with him. He's a very sweet old man with no one to keep him company, so I would hate to leave him alone for so long and disappoint him."

Clark is truly and definitely in love.

How can his the omega be this kind to people? This is exactly why Clark is so smitten with Bruce. The man is just so naturally caring and generous to anyone willing to accept his help. The reporter nods his head in understanding and rises out of his seat along with Bruce, "I understand. It's very kind of you to...entertain him like this when you aren't obligated to. I guess I'll see you whenever you schedule another meeting-"

"It doesn't have to be a waste of his time, mother."

Both Clark and Bruce look down at Damian for his interruption, the omega giving his son a pointed look at the suggestion. "We've already talked about this, sweetheart-"

Damian crosses his arms and huffs, "No. You talked about it and I just agreed because I love you."

Bruce raises a brow at the backtalk and puts a hand on his now cocked hip, "Damian Wayne-" at the full name, the pup immediately snuggles up to the man's side and wraps his small arms around the other's legs. "I'm sorry, mama...but, don't you think me being interviewed by someone as trustworthy as Kent could be beneficial to me?" Damian looks up at the omega, determined to get his way, smiling a little in victory at the man's curious look. "Think about it this way, mama-" he presses on when Bruce still doesn't correct him-"I can learn how to act and talk in interviews now, so that way when the time comes for me to say something in the news later, I know how to be professional about any dumb questions the reporters ask me."

Bruce hums thoughtfully, carding his fingers gently through Damian's hair and grumbling internally at how he can never properly stay mad at his kids.

'Well..." The omega glances at Clark considerately. It's true that he trusts the beta with a lot more information and things considered normal for someone who's ultimately his employee to be trusted with or to know, but it's also not his fault that the man has proven himself to be trustworthy and a gentleman to top it all off. But, just because he trusts Clark with himself, does that mean he trusts the man to be alone with his children?

Clark clearing his throat snaps Bruce out of his thoughts, the omega looking up at the now awkward beta as he scratches the back of his neck nervously.

"Um...if you wouldn't feel uncomfortable leaving me with Damian, I wouldn't mind giving him a trial interview. I promise that I won't record or write anything down...i-it can just be a few easy questions for your pup to get a feel of things, you know?" Clark glances down at Damian briefly before looking at Bruce again, licking his lips nervously as he shifts in place slightly. "Plus, I would be lying if I said the thought of getting to talk to one of your kids wouldn't be exciting-" at the omega's unwavering gaze stayed on him, Clark clears his throat awkwardly-"O-Only because I often see your children hanging around the office with you...but every time I come around, they run off or something. It's probably stupid. But, you've been such an amazing person to hang around, so I could only imagine what your kids were like, but I haven't really gotten the chance to speak or have a real interaction with any of them until today."

Clark laughs nervously and shrugs, "I don't know? I guess it was also a bit discouraging to see your pups run away from we whenever I come around. I've always liked children...so, uh...I guess having a whole group of them not feel comfortable around your presence is a bit sad." He paused for a second before panicking and waving his hands around frantically, "Of course I'm not saying that they are obligated to be near me or anything! That is fully up to them if they would want that. I just-I guess I just wanted to get to know them better since I feel I've gotten to know you so well now."

Bruce is silent. Damian is silent (and glaring). And Clark is most definitely quiet now that he's word vomited everything to the omega.

Are they still even talking about the interview? Bruce wonders silently. At this point, it sounds like Clark is someone he's been seeing romantically for awhile now and he is trying to get to know the family after a couple months or a year of dating one another. I mean, Bruce wouldn't mind that option either, but he's in a working environment...so the intense blush from imagining building an imaginary life with your employee is probably some form of inappropriate workplace behavior.

Nevermind the fact that said imagination is almost causing Bruce to just ask Clark to be the father of his children.

Yeah, that's definitely crossing some sort of workplace code of conduct.

Bruce sucks in a deep breath to calm down his racing heart and gently nudges Damian's head, giving the boy a soft and serious look as he gestures towards Clark. "Baby, do you...would you feel comfortable sitting up here with Clark for a bit while I take care of Mr. Hannington?"

Damian can't help the sassy reply as he looks up at his mom, "Do I...do I actually get a say here?"

Bruce playfully slaps the back of his pup's head for the remark, "Of course you do. This is different...like if I were to leave you in the care of a babysitter or something, I want you to truly feel comfortable around them above anything else. Cause it doesn't matter what my personal feelings or opinions are about Clark-"

Damian tugs on the omega's pants, his gaze steady as he stares his mom down. "And what are your feelings on him?"

Oh, wow...

Bruce suddenly feels called out by his own child (even though the boy hasn't said anything worthy of him feeling that way) as the boy looks at him almost analytically, the pink tint coloring his face once more as he does his best to meet the big green eyes of his youngest pup. "Well—" Bruce gives Clark a passing glance, his tone uncharacteristically soft-maybe even shy-as he answers—"I trust him a lot more than even I ever expected to. H-He's a really outstanding reporter...and man from what I've gathered."

Clark swallows down all the saliva that suddenly decided to have a get together in his mouth. How is it possible for his throat to feel too moist yet dry at the same time?

The taller man looks down at Damian and focuses on the serious look the boy wears. Watching closely as the boy's lower lip juts out into a pout as he thinks (like Bruce does), and how his eyebrows scrunch together and wrinkle in the middle because of how hard he's thinking (exactly in the way Bruce's does too). The pup huffs softly before sticking his nose high in the air as though he didn't look troubled before and kindly waves his mom away, "Well...if you trust him, mother, then surely I have a reason to feel comfortable around him as well."

Before Bruce can protest, the pup pushes insistently at the long legs. 

"And before you scold me for what I said. I know that it's ultimately up to how I feel...but, I also trust your judgment as my mom. I know you wouldn't leave me with someone you know would hurt me-" the same can't be said about yourself, is left unsaid-"So, I am willing to find out for myself why you feel this way exactly. Now, off with you, mother. Go tell that old goat I said hello." Despite Bruce's complaints at being pushed, he humors the small boy and gives in to the pushes, heading towards the door step by step until he's 'shoved' outside of his own office.

Correcting Damian about referring to his elders as 'old goats' before the pup shuts the door in his face, respectfully, of course.

Clark shivers at the temperature dropping in the room suddenly when the pup turns around, the boy's soft green eyes (when looking at Bruce at least) suddenly turning sharp and cold as he looks the beta up and down. "Take your seat."

What is Clark to do but to listen?

This is a whole new side of Bruce's kids that he has never seen before. Of course, he's seen the kids in passing, usually when they ran away or made his job difficult by pulling little pranks on him, but he truly has never interacted with one of the creatures the children so closely before. He feels like his movements should be slow...and it's sad to say, but at this point he's not sure if the slow movements are for his sake or theirs.

Damian nods approvingly as the older listens to him and takes the same spot he was in earlier, hopping up onto his mom's desk chair and folding his hands as if he's in a serious meeting. "Look, Kent-" the pup sighs tiredly, as though he's been talking to the older man for hours on end already-"I understand that you have this...'infatuation' with my mother, but I'm here to tell you that whatever it is that you are scheming isn't going to work on him or us. You are here to do your job—" he pauses and waves his right hand around, rolling his eyes when the alpha just stares at him stupidly—"Your job, which is what exactly?" Clark blinks in confusion and pushes up his glasses nervously, "Um...being a reporter? More specifically: interviewing the people that I'm told to interview, go to the places I'm sent to go to get information, writing and getting the facts on my stories...to...uh...name a few things."

Damian nods his head, "Very good. And because you are constantly working hard to get such information from people, wouldn't you say that there requires a specific kind of professionalism to be had during work hours?"

Clark isn't sure where this conversation is going...but it sounds like one he doesn't want to have.

"Yes. Of course I remain professional during work hours. I wouldn't be a good journalist if I couldn't remain so."

The boy stares at him silently before humming and knocking thrice on the wooden desk, "Then why exactly have you been flirting during working hours with someone who you are sent to talk to for business? And not only that! But you flirt with someone who is now your boss." Clark flinches at the harsh accusation, looking on curiously as Tim Drake-one of Bruce's many pups-slides out from one of the desk cabinets with a large tablet in his hands. Damian choosing to carry on as if what's happening is completely normal, "My brother here has compiled up all the moments in which you've made those disgusting looking googly eyes at our mother."

Tim nods his head in greeting and draws Clark's attention to the device in his hands, his gaze accusing as he stares at the older man.

"Thank you, Damian. You did a wonderful introduction to this whole problem. Anyways, Mr...Kent, is it?" At Clark's slow nod, the young alpha continues. "That's what I thought. My siblings and I usually wouldn't bother to involve ourselves with our mama's business (that's a lie), but you see, we have been keeping our eyes on you these past few times you've come to interview our mom—" a few taps of the screen suddenly shows an image of Clark and Bruce, the video playing exposé style—"and we haven't appreciated what we've seen from you: 1. You are flirting on the job, 2. You are flirting on the job with someone who is supposed to be your boss now, 3. You are flirting with our mother and 4-"

Clark jumps in his chair as someone drops down dramatically from the ceiling, the tall and bulky alpha snarling meanly at the reporter. "And 4: We don't know what your fucking plans are with our mom, so spit it out or we'll help you spit it out."

Ah...

This one must be Jason. Clark remembers the few (un)lucky reporters who have actually gotten up close and personal with a few of Bruce's kids (jealous) saying that the second eldest boy is nothing like the omega describes him as: cute, innocent, a baby, the most precious being to ever walk the face of the earth, his small little boy; and now that Clark is looking at the alpha, he can see what those reporters meant. This 'baby' is built like a reinforced war shelter or something...but the man can't help but feel like this young alpha looks familiar in some way.

A whine escapes Tim from behind Jason's bulk, the much shorter alpha hitting at his big brother's back with his tablet. "That's no fair, Jay! You got in the way of my presentation! You promised that you'd wait until the end."

The older boy growls at being hit, but it must not be as threatening as he makes it sound as Tim keeps hitting him, even going so far as to start kicking at the older one's leg, in rebuttal to the sound. "I promised that I'd think about it, pipsqueak, and guess what my answer was? A big, fat, loud f-no. I'm getting impatient with this guy's innocent act...especially since he obviously wants something out of our mama."

Okay, okay, okay.

1. Clark knows he should be terrified right now because of how menacing Jason looks.

2. He is terrified...but not necessarily for the reasons they may want him to be.

3. How can he be scared when Jason calls Bruce, "mama", with an adorably scrunched up nose of protection (because that's definitely a nose scrunch of protection...Clark can tell. And is that something they all got from Bruce?)

And 4. Why is this whole experience making him want to father his pups these pups more than he already wanted to?

Clark, at the realization that his nervousness and fear is more so because he wants to impress Bruce's kids, rather than because they actually and genuinely terrify him, causes him to bury his face in his hands with a loud and pitiful cry. 

Jason licks his lips in excitement at the reaction, a twisted smile gracing his face as he looks down at the wailing reporter and giving a menacing chuckle. "Yeah, you motherfucker (and I oop-), cry me a river you bastard. I wanna smell the distress coming off of you in waves by the time you leave this place. You think you can just-just enter our mom's life without us knowing about it, huh? You think that you can make heart eyes at him and get away with it, hm? You think that you can just waltz in here and try to take him away from us, is that it?"

What is wrong with Clark?

Why would he want to be a father to what seems like some of the world's most stubborn, paranoid, crazy, out of hand, bloodthirsty children to ever exist?

I mean, some of those descriptions may be a bit true...but, Clark also can hear the adorably sincere, protective, maybe a touch possessive (in the way pups can be over their mother's), dedicated, filial, genuinely loving and caring tone coming from these-these gremlin children. 

Clark is just beginning to realize how crazy he either is himself, or, just how selfish he can truly be right now. Cause all he wants to do is to make these pups his own and be strong for them...because the way they seem to be talking right now disturbs his heart and penetrates deep down to his own protective instincts, at what sounds like the fact that none of these kids seem to have had a decent alpha figure in their lives.

I mean, what are they talking about taking there mom away? What do they mean by his 'plans' for their mom? They make him sound like he's here to hurt Bruce and his family rather than love them.

Jason growls low in his throat at the lack of a response from the seated man, the pups scrambling back in surprise when the reporter suddenly shoots up out of his seat and stands over them.

And stand over them he truly does.

They never actually realized how big the other man was until now...is he standing at full height?

Jason feels a pang of regret for talking the way he did. What if he got his younger brothers in trouble because of his big mouth? The young alpha pushes the younger two behind him, growling low in his throat when they try to protest his protection, forcing them to stay behind himself as they don't know what happens after backtalk. It always leads to beatings and bruises...and he doesn't want that to happen to them, not if he can help it. 

"Stay the fuck away from us!"

Clark freezes at the deep baritone of the boy's voice. He sounds...angry? That one is for sure, but the Kryptonian can hear beyond the instinctual anger and down deep to the imperceivable–well, imperceivable to anyone without super hearing that is. The older alpha (though they don't know he is one) stands as still as he can be and lets his super senses do the work for him. Frowning at hearing the slight, almost unnoticeable, shakiness of the boy's vocal cords; fear, the boy is feeling fear when talking to him. Clark carefully scents the air and has to hold back his distressed cry at the uneasy, weary smell coming from the young man.

Jason narrows his eyes suspiciously at the taller and how he seems to have listened to the command to not come closer...at least for now he has.

Baby blue eyes look behind the alpha as the office door opens and Richard enters the room with the rest of their siblings. They were on standby as clean up crew just in case things got messy, but now, the older is inching his way on up to be close to Jason when seeing that glassy look trying to take over the younger one's eyes. "Jay, everything is alright, Mr. Clark isn't moving a muscle." The eldest Wayne child suddenly turns a sharp gaze onto said male, looking over his body to make sure that he's remaining in place.

Cass does the same and looks over the older man, relaxing slightly at what she sees and huffing a quiet laugh to herself at how open the other is with his feelings.

The beta pushes past Richard and skips over to her three brothers, giving a big smile to Jason in response to his protective hissing. "Cass! What the hell is wrong with you?! Don't get so close to him!" The younger tilts her head slightly and looks behind herself to get a glimpse of Clark, taking note of the sadness in his eyes before turning back to Jason and making an x with her arms, "I don't sense anything threatening from him. I promise you, Jason. Everyone is okay as far as I can tell...if anything, Mr. Clark is uber easy to read, if a bit confusing? He's thinking too many things at one time for me to pinpoint what's causing his distress."

Jason watches his little sister sign closely, snorting at the last part of her comment. "Yeah...right, distressed. Why in the hell would he be distressed right now? Because he's been called out for his atrocious behavior?"

Richard finds himself relaxing a bit at having Cass's two cents on what's going on, though he still wants Jason to feel comfortable enough himself to release Tim and Damian from his protective grasp...the poor pups look like they're suffocating with the way the taller is pressing them into the wall. "Maybe we can give him a chance to explain himself? Even if he is some big, horrible man at the end of the day...I don't think he would harm us, especially as mom can easily come up and catch him doing it. And he seems a little too fond over B to hurt us outright."

Clark blinks away the wetness in his eyes...he understands what Richard is trying to do, but it still is a pain to hear someone say that their brother thinks that you'd harm them to your face indirectly.

Jason stiffens up as Clark is on the move again, making a confused noise in the back of his throat when the beta hunches in on himself (as though to make himself smaller) and clasps his hands together as though he's begging for forgiveness. "I-I'm sorry if I have ever acted in a way that has caused any one of you to think I meant harm to yourselves or your mother. I doubly apologize at the fact that I don't know what it is that I did to make all of you feel this way, but if you would be willing to tell me so I can fix it..."

Everyone stares at the reporter in varying stages of shock, confusion or guilt, Barbara being the one to break the silence with a long-suffering sigh. "I told you guys that this would be going too far."

Clark glances over to the sheepish looking woman, the ginger waving her hand in a gesture for the man to relax. "I'm sorry about our behavior towards you...we...uh...we got a little to overzealous in our plans to come talk to you in concern of our mother's new interest, and I don't mean that to be offensive. Mom usually only shows this much interest in us...so I guess we got a little jealous over you."

Stephanie nods her head in agreement, though she still looks curious and a bit cautious as to why Clark is so interested in their ma. "Yeah, and I hope you can excuse Jason? He has some...personal issues, like the rest of us do, and he just got a bit startled." Jason tightens his grip on Tim and Damian (that he moved to holding at some point), burying his nose in their hair for comfort (just like Bruce does *sobs*) as he protests. "I didn't get startled! And I wasn't scared-" his baby blue eyes shift over to Clark cautiously as he slowly relocates himself and his baby brothers over to where his siblings are gathered-"I was just making sure that he didn't do anything stupid is all. You can never trust a stranger."

Stephanie deadpans, "But all of us met B and trusted him when he was at his strangest to us."

The slightly younger alpha frowns, "But this is different, Steph. B is-is our mama. He's able to be trusted because he's showed himself to be." The blond sighs softly in response and just tiptoes up to ruffle the younger boy's hair.

This time it's Richard who turns to look regretfully at Clark, "I'm truly sorry about all this. I feel like I should take most of the blame as I'm the eldest sibling...and I know for a fact that I didn't help dissuade the others when they made plans to come interrogate you-" the older whines as he's slapped upside the head by Barbara-"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I left out how I was one of the first to suggest coming here to do this."

Clark looks between the group of pups (because that's what they are, okay?) and finally lets his tears fall, causing the children to look troubles by the intense reaction.

Damian stops trying to wriggle out of Jason's arms at the sight of Clark's tears and sighs empathetically, "I understand how scared you must have felt when I started talking to you. But...just know that while I was trying to intimidate you, this was not the reaction I was expecting–hey!" He shouts in protest as his hair is roughly ruffled by Jason (who has chosen to release Drake...how unfair). "It wasn't you he was intimidated by, it was me, obviously."

Damian frowns deeply at the obvious lie, nipping and biting at the older boy's hand in retaliation, causing a chain reaction as the rest of his siblings join in on the chaos and forget the crying reporter watching them fondly.

It's only when the man releases a deep chuckle that everyone turns to look at Clark confusedly, especially as he keeps on laughing. "I-I'm sorry to disappoint...but I wasn't scared of either of you-" he looks between everyone before shrugging-"Well, maybe just a little boy at first? But, I'm so selfish and greedy; covetous about something that isn't even mine." Everyone is taken aback by the yearning in the deep blue eyes. "I-I accidentally said too much earlier to your mom when he was in the room...I am guessing that Tim and Jason heard me as they were hiding the whole time? But, I just wanted you all to be impressed by me I guess...I just found it discouraging how none of you seemed to feel comfortable around me whenever I came to interview Bruce."

Jason purses his lips and stares Clark down, "And why do you even want us to feel comfortable around you? It's not like we'd be around you twenty-four seven."

Clark nods almost dejectedly, a small sighs escaping him. "I know...I guess it was partly because I ended up coming around a lot, so to see you kids in somewhat of a consistent enough manner really made me hope that I could get to at least speak to one of you. And...um...I said that I was selfish and greedy earlier—" he swallows nervously at the sharp looks he receives for the change in tone—"and I meant that. I suppose you all were somewhat right when saying I had intentions, but I promise you that it's not anything nefarious."

Stephanie hums thoughtfully before waving her hand, "Explain."

Clark nods in thanks at the chance to share his side of things, "It's true that I've been...flirting with your mother-" he ignores whoever murmured about stating the obvious and pushes forward-"and I'm sorry for being unprofessional in my work, but...but your mom–Bruce, he's such a hard worker and a dedicated boss to those working for him, as well as a committed mom to all of you. And I saw that and I-truthfully I fell in love with his everything: his passion to make this city and the world a better place for the struggling, the reddening of his face when I take an interest in something he finds interesting, his care and adoration for children and youths of all ages and backgrounds." He takes in a deep breath and deals the final blow, "But especially I fell in love with the children of Bruce Thomas Wayne: my boss, crush-and honestly-someone who feels like my best friend during these moments of getting to know each other."

Clark doesn't know where the sudden confidence comes from, but he looks each and every single pup in the eyes as he finally finishes. "And when I said I fell in love with his everything, I meant everything. All of you mean so much to me and I haven't even gotten to know you. That's the reason why I was so scared, it's because I wanted you to see me as someone worthy enough to talk to and feel comfortable around, and I'm only sorry for not being able to be that someone for you all."

With that, Clark bows his head and waits for the biting remarks from the Wayne children, only to be surprised at the gentle tugging of his suit sleeve.

Cass smiles kindly at Clark when he looks up at her, the girl's eyes a bit watery from the confession and baffled at the level of sincerity radiating from the man as he confessed. "You...you already sound like more than what any of us deserve. We're sorry for putting so much pressure on you rather than talking it out...most of us aren't good at that-" she gives a playful smile to lighten the mood and continues signing-"or in my case, can't simply do so. But, your honesty is appreciated...if a bit overwhelming because of its level of sincerity. Thank you."

He doesn't know how it's possible, but Clark is falling more for Bruce's kids and how...soft they actually seem to be.

They just need a little love is all.

And maybe a father? (Fingers crossed)

Jason grumbles to himself dejectedly at how wrong his analysis of the man was. Which really is a good thing! He would have freaked out if he found out the other had bad intentions towards his mama, but, he also doesn't know what to do with this new information, because it's nothing like what he expected it to be.

However, in a rare moment of showing respect, Jason turns to look at Richard and nudges the older with his elbow to get his attention and opinion as the head alpha (when Alfred isn't around that is). "What do you think about this? About him?" Richard's eyes crinkle in that familiarly comforting way it does when he's low-key (read: high-key, cause he ain't low-key about nothing) excited about something, the older wrapping a lean, yet strong, arm around Jason's neck and leaning in to nuzzle the boy's cheek. "I...actually feel really good about him, Jay. Don't feel pressured to like him either just because I or anyone else does, okay? You were very brave today too, by the way, thank you for standing up to what you saw as a threat."

Jason would never admit it, but he preens under the praise and returns the muzzle back to his older brother, allowing his tense body to relax into the slimmer build as Richard holds him up. His blue eyes scanning Clark from head to toe, "I...think I trust him too? I'm scared that I do though."

Richard hums in understanding and hugs his baby (because he is a baby) brother close, the two watching as Damian finally gets out of Jason's hold and stands up in front of his siblings with a heavy pout on his face. "T-Traitors! The lot of you! All of you don't love mommy, for you betray him by falling for such acts!" Uh oh...the boy is stressed out right now, he calls Bruce mommy to/when: 1. To soften the omega up when he wants something, 2. When the omega is distracted with something and Damian whines for his attention or 3. When he gets distressed at a situation and wants to snuggle into Bruce.

And with the way he's looking right now, Damian falls into category number three.

Tim softly tries crooning to Damian when seeing the boy get teary eyed at what he perceives as unfair treatment. "Dami-"

"Damian?" 

Everyone jumps in surprise at hearing Bruce's voice suddenly, the omega growing defensive at the thought of his pups having been hurt by Clark at the sight of their teary eyes, until he sees that the man himself also has been crying. "Baby, what's wrong?" Bruce purrs to soothe the distressed pup, lifting the boy into his arms and rubbing gentle circles into the small back as he looks between his kids and Clark for an answer. "What is going on right now? When did you kids even get up here?"

At the apologetic looks from his kids-and the very obvious looks Richard is giving Clark-Bruce immediately mourns whatever it is that his kids said or did to the poor beta.

"What exactly have you kids been doing while I was downstairs? And why are you all crying?"

Bruce extends a gentle hand to his kids and allows them to take off the scent patches on his wrists so that he can rub his comforting smell on all of them, his voice a calm rumble as he calms them down. "There you go, it's okay. Now, I want answers as to what is happening. No one is on trouble, understand? I just need to know if anyone was...hurt or anything." The doubt in Bruce's voice immediately causes all of them to speak up at the same time, the omega looking back and forth between his children in confusion as their words jumble together. "I love you, Bruce Thomas Wayne!"

Now that voice, that voice Bruce most definitely heard.

It's loud, booming, deep, gentle yet commanding and so undeniably alpha of Clark Kent. 

Which is confusing. Isn't he a beta?

It takes a moment for everyone to get themselves under control, Clark being the first to shake himself out of his own surprise as he boldly takes off his scent patches so that Bruce knows about him. "I-I wasn't expecting for my confession to ever go this way-" he looks at Bruce's kids in amusement-"much less with an audience around. But, I said I love you and everything about you, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet I love you. From your piercing blue eyes and the way you roll them unknowingly whenever someone says it does something stupid—I should know, you've given me them a lot—to your pink lips and the way you pout them in deep concentration whenever you think hard about something."

Bruce is too busy staring in a daze up at the alpha to pay attention to whichever one of his kids cooed about the romance happening and for someone to scoot over so they can get a better view (though it's most likely Richard).

Clark keeps his eyes trained on the shorter man, standing to his full height and slowly stepping forward until he's right in front of the man, his gaze overwhelmingly fond and loving as he looks down at the smaller. "I love the way you gracefully handle the most troublesome situations in your city, yet complain about the small things like a certain vegetable you don't like in your food or how the weather is a touch too cold for your liking—" Bruce frowns at that and unconsciously rolls his eyes. "Those are perfectly reasonable things to fuss about–w-what?"

Clark watches as the omega adjusts Damian so he can hold him with one arm and pat at his face with his free hand, to see if there's anything on his face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The alpha smiles and raises a hand slowly until he's cradling the soft face in his wide palm, basking in the heat radiating from the blushing man. "It's because I love you and the way you complain to me-" he whispers it as though it hurts him to realize just how much he can love someone else-"and...and I don't even know if it's possible for me to have you and for me to be yours in return. I—you are so beautiful, Bruce. Inside and out. And to be around you for so long the way I've been privileged to is such an honor, while also slowly driving me mad with thoughts and dreams about a future I don't even know is obtainable for me." Bruce's arms tighten around Damian, soothing the pup as he whines from the confession going on, his voice nothing but a whisper as he nuzzles the hand cradling his cheek. "Then...then why don't you ask me what I think?"

Clark's breath is taken away at how beautiful Bruce is, his eyes searching the omega's face hopefully as he swallows down his nerves and does as requested. "W-What do you think about me, Bruce? What do you think about us being together?"

Bruce exhales shakily at hearing the question even though he asked for it, "I think...I think a lot of things: how crazy you must be to actually enjoy being around me, how correct you are for loving kids-but especially my kids; how I think that y-you'd make a wonderful father to the omega lucky enough to have you as an alpha." Oh...is this a rejection? Clark can feel his shoulders automatically slump dejectedly, though he keeps his hand on the other's face, fighting off the urge to protest and complain. The alpha caught off guard at the warm tears dripping onto his palm and the warmth of the omega as he steps closer and closer, until their chests are aligned and Damian is cradled in a warm cocoon between the two.

Bruce's voice is small yet optimistic as he asks, "Can I? Can I be that omega?"

Surprisingly, Damian is silent this time, everyone holding their breaths as they wait for Clark's reaction.

Before Bruce can self doubt anymore, Clark lets out a happy shout and picks up the omega and swings him around, placing a tender first kiss onto the shy omega's lips. "You can...as long as I'm allowed to be your alpha in return?" Bruce feels overwhelmed at feeling so...loved and sniffles loudly, stretching up on his toes when Clark pulls away from their kiss, stunned at how addicted he is to the alpha's taste already. He nods his head quickly in answer to the other's question, "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, C-Clark."

The alpha wipes away the omega's tears, hugging the man close to his chest and places a tender kiss to the man's forehead as he lets him cry.

Clark catches Damian teary eyed stare in the middle of making sure Bruce is okay, giving a gentle smile to the pup as he croons softly to the boy. "And you-" he bends down until he's face-to-face with the pup-"I promise that I'm not taking away your mom from you or the family. I...I hope to add on to the family he's built, not take away from you guys, and I hope that I can prove that to you and your siblings in due time."

Damian remains stubbornly curled up against Bruce, though he's not as stiff and weary as before, his little nose twitching as he sniffles and looks between Clark and his mother.

"M-Mommy—" Damian whines and clings onto Bruce's suit—"he...he isn't like father."

Bruce sucks in a sharp breath at the admission, nodding his head in agreement, "You're right. He's not your father...he won't hurt you, baby, or me." Damian nods his head softly and leaves it at that, dragging Bruce's hand up to his face so that he can smell at the scent glands on his wrist to be comforted.

Well, that worked out better than expected for Clark, he gives a hopeful smile to Bruce before they turn to the rest of their kids.

Richard smiles brightly and practically vibrates excitedly at the thought of having a dad (again), "Welcome to the family! Is it too early to invite you over for dinner?" 

Barbara rolls her eyes good-naturedly as she carefully pushes the eldest to the side and nods her head in polite introduction, "Excuse the family dog, he hasn't had enough playtime today-" she smiles at the offended exclamation she gets from the alpha, waving him off when he tries to play fight her over it-"I'm Barbara and that's Richard...though I'm sure you knew that? I'm really sorry about what happened earlier...but, I'm glad you're one of us now."

Clark feels like crying even more at the beta's kind acceptance of him into the pack.

Cass steps forward next and waves excitedly, "I'm Cassandra; the favorite child,  but don't tell anyone else that. I admit that I don't understand why you love us the way you do...not many of us will right now, but like Barbara said, I'm glad you're with us now instead of anywhere else. I'm glad we didn't scare you off...you're kind." Clark barely has time to respond to the small girl before Stephanie is barreling her way through her siblings, the blonde eyeing him carefully now that she knows for sure he's an alpha. "Most alphas we know personally have sucked, so I hope you really aren't one of those ones? You don't seem like it though, so welcome to the family, and let's learn to bug people together. You and me. That's our bonding time."

That was...blunt, but appreciated nonetheless. Clark just is happy at the fact she mentioned bonding with him.

Jason bites his lip when the older alpha looks at him, scratching his index nail against his jeans nervously from the attention. "Uh...I guess I'm sorry for the...overreaction, but I don't have good experiences with alphas." The nineteen-year-old finds himself blushing as he quickly spits out, "But thank you for not freaking out about it-" a quick pause-"I guess."

Clark smiles and softly reassures the boy that there's no need to be sorry, unaware to how Bruce is melting at the dad energy radiating from the man.

Everyone stares at Tim as he's the only one who hasn't said anything yet. Not that he's supposed to, of course, but it's making Bruce worry about it the boy is feeling neglected already...he knows the pup as abandonment issues, so change is often a scary thing for him. "Timmy, is everything okay?" Bruce questions softly, gently brushing away some hair from the alpha's eyes just to see what's going on in his head. The boy only stares up at Clark as though he's found something (or in this case, someone) amazing, the teen hugging his tablet to his chest as he exclaims in awe: "I can't believe Superman is our dad."

Clark's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as he chokes on his spit, the Wayne family practically breaking their necks to look at him as the room descends into chaos, Stephanie loudly exclaiming.

"I guess #superbat is now trending!"

And that's how Superman found out he was in love with Batman and vice versa.

(Damian's bio parent in this is Ra's Al Ghul. If I would have a decent writing schedule, y'all would have understood that as it's in the separate Damian story I said I was writing. But, just a quick explanation for anyone who would be curious as to who the parent is.

Just know that this also isn't related to the 5+2 story I have in this series as well, as due to popular votes, the majority wanted Clark (in said 5+2) to be Damian's bio parent. So, this takes the route on what I would have done if I would have kept anyone else but Clark as his other bio parent.

Also, please don't ask me what I was thinking when writing this? I was confused on whether to add the crack tags or not, especially as I don't think this is so silly/odd to the point of me tagging that, however, I felt (personally) that the certain way I wrote things was leaning into that crack-ish territory (though I'm most likely wrong lol).

Also, also, I had so many cute endings planned and some reason went with that. I swear if y'all are mad at the ending, I can try fixing it XD, but I just felt the story reached a certain point of angst I didn't expect to have for this...so I made the ending a bit silly-stupid

You all are always so greatly appreciated! And know that I love and appreciate each and every single one of you for taking the time to read, comment and kudos. You all are the most amazing Valentine's a girl could ask for, thank you!

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[capesch-arts]

Addie and Goldie thoughts™

[Tell me, Addison]

"You can call me Addie, darlin'"

[Ah.. okay.. Addie. When you told Faroe, about your father... What did you feel when you offered him to the gods?]

"Why're you askin'?"

[She told me that humans are not so keen on killing each other. That it takes a lot to do. But, you said it so casually. I could say you seem to revel in it]

"Well, Goldie-"

[Goldie-?]

"- My father's been worshiping the ancient gods for a long long time. He's devoted. Very devoted. He even shared with us his faith and ushered us to believe as he does. I thought it was wonderful that he loves us so that he would share us the honour of serving them as he did... Until we discovered... That he wanted to offer me to them..."

[He wanted to sacrifice you?]

"Like I said, devoted. It would be a lie to say I didn't feel betrayed. I mean, he had a town worth of people to offer! But, he wanted to offer me. Me and my siblings weren't too keen on that. After all, what's stopping him from using the rest of us? So, we ensured he was the one the gods took instead. Ha!"

[Hm... I understand. But, his devotion... Do you.. admire it? In some way?]

"Admire it? No. After a long time I thought, that wasn't devotion. Not REAL ones anyway. He's a coward"

[A coward? How?]

"He sacrificed an innocent, defenceless, girl. A girl who loved him all his life and would do anything for him. That's weakness, cowardice. Anyone can do that, no wonder the gods stopped giving him wealth and power down the line.

Do you know why I kill? Why do I personally kill every man that comes with my own hands? Because I'm not a coward. I offer them men of high standards, not children, not weak peasants, and I cut and gut them up to show them how much love I want to give to them.

That's real devotion

Besides, if a man's effort to provide for his god's and family is half-assed, they're better off dead! Haha!"

[Devotion... Your devotion, Addie... I want that]

[watching-sam-and-dean-again]

Confession Time!

A lot of people say they wouldn't have a problem with destiel if it wasn’t for how terribly the hellers (not the regular, unproblematic Destiel shippers) behave. I agree on the fact that the death-threat hurling, actor harassing, fandom toxifying, gaslighting asses make me actively hate the ship, too. But, even if all of its shippers were calm and lovely, I would STILL hate the idea of destiel. This is going to about the ship itself and why I don’t like it, not about criticizing the people who ship it (reasonably).

If anyone stumbles across this and wants to claim it’s because I’m homophoic or some dumb shit, feel free to show yourself out. And grow up. If you agree or are just curious as to why, feel free to read on.

The first reason I can’t get on board with destiel is Castiel himself:

I hate the ship because, if you look at it as Castiel having feeling for Dean from early on, he comes off as an even bigger creep than he already is to me. First, how many times has he invaded Dean's personal space or stared at him while he slept, even though Dean has told him not to and indicated it made him uncomfortable? I can think of at least 4 off the top of my head, but I’m sure there are more. These moment are written as jokes, and to show Cas is a derpy weirdo, but if you want to read them as a biproduct of Castiel having feeling for Dean, it makes him a creepy stalker.

Second, Castiel only caring about other people, including Sam and Jack, because of Dean makes him a s selfish and kind of shitty character to me. I like the idea of Castiel being a defective amgel, coming off the assembly line with a "crack in his classy," meaning he was always inclined to question things too much, maybe have an natural affinity for humans, to rebel. The idea that our show's version of Sam, Dean and even Castiel were special because they always defied the story that was written for them is the ultimate demonstration of free will winning out, and it speaks to the uniqueness of "our versions" of their characters. But, when it’s framed as Castiel only rebelling because he has a boner for Dean (like the "confession" scene seems to retroactively suggest), only ever questioned anything because he had a boner for Dean, only went against his fellow angels because he was hot for Dean and not becuae Dean inspired him to do the right thing, and only cared about people he says he loves and calls family because of Dean … that makes Dean special, not Castiel. In fact, it makes Castiel a simp who can’t think for himself, and is anything but genuine in his claim of caring about anyone but Dean. It makes him bereft of his own agency.

Finally, I hate the idea of Dean and Castiel ever being in a romantic relationship because of the seriously wrong things he has done to people. Castiel essentially forced Jimmy Novak to become his vessel again by possessing his daughter and basically holding her ransom until he consented to be Castiel's vessel again, and he still thinks he did the right thing into late seasons, Even when he finds Claire to sort of, kind of try make up for taking her dad away, he makes a feeble effort at best, and then basically just wonders off and forgets about her again after his momentary attack of conscious. For Dean, a character who fights to have free will, to shack-up with someone who took over a man's body and when he died (because Castiel took his boy into battle), he just sort of took over the body for himself and called it his, like a crab … is a huge smack in the face to Dean being heroic. Hello, even Sam wouldn’t bang Ruby until she found a braindead vessel, whose soul had likely departed already (and he’s the monster fucker). Castiel also broke Sam's hell wall leading to him going insane and nearly dying of insomnia, and he did it purposely to hurt and worry Dean, and to distract him from his plan to play god. This is inexcusable, and that fact that Dean even stays his friend feels like a betrayal to Sam, as well as out of character frankly, never mind going on to have a relationship with him. Finally, Castiel has threatened and beaten Dean when he doesn’t do what he wants more than once, and despite what hellers think, I don’t find abuse sexy.

The next reason I can’t get onboard with Destiel is Dean:

Dean laterally implies, out right says, and demonstrates multiple times throughout the show that he is straight. Thus, with the version of Castiel that Dean knows being in a male vessel, Dean just isn’t going to be interested in him that way. I’ve seen shippers srgue that people sometimes fall in love with someone of the same sex despite identifying as straight, but come on, that is going to be a relatively small percentage of of people. But more than that, Dean isn’t a real person, he’s a character. If the writers were going to make his character have a change of sexuality, or make an exception for Castiel, they would have had to explicitly show it on screen, through words and actions, and not just drop "subtext hints" that never go anywhere, and are largely stupid or hinged on stereotypes. They never did, so Dean remained hero sexual to the end.

Even if his sexuality were not a barrier, Dean does not knowingly peruse monsters. Castiel despite how depowered an essentially useless he becomes over time, is not a human. Angels are essentially just another flavor of monster on Supernatural, thus Dean is not be interested in dating Castiel even if he were in a female vessel, despite what some shippers like to claim. The only times Dean has knowingly hooked up with a monster was with Anna, and that was before she got her grace back and was a true angel again. The other monster he slept with was the Amazon, or whatever she was, before she had a kid with him without his consent, and Dean didn’t know that she was a monster. He frequently criticized Sam for having been with monsters, and that criticism makes it pretty clear that he wouldn’t want to be with any himself. Finally, this is a bit of a side note, any many may not agree with me, but I don't think Dean sees any supernatural creatures as quite equal to humans, and that includes Castiel, Jack and Benny. If it weren’t enough that Dean isn’t into males, the fact that he also isn’t into monsters, pretty much makes the destiel ship dead in the water for me.

Finally, the way Dean treats Castiel is not conducive friendship at times, never mind me shipping them. Dean pretty frequently belittles Castiel, calling him essentially uselesess when he doesn’t have powers (baby in a trench coat), and he makes fun of Castiel working at the Gas 'n Sip to try sustain himself, after Dean kicked him out of the bunker powerless and penniless. If Dean loves Castiel, mocking him for working whatever job he can after he turned him away, is an interesting way to show it. He also lashes out at Castiel pretty harshly (I though often deservedly). He tells Castiel that "nobody cares that he’s broken," and he says "everything that goes wrong" seems to be because of Castiel, and he told him that if anything happened to his mother after Castiel failed to warn them about Jack' behavior, Castiel would be "dead" to him. Even when the show reminds us of Castiel's existence when he’s not in an episode by having Dean claim he’s worried about him, or having Sam reassure him they’ll find/help Castiel, when Castiel actually is back, Dean essentially goes back to ignoreimg him. Dean only seems to care about Castiel when he’s missing or when he can help them fight something. In down time, he’s usually pretty happy just to chill with Sam.

Finally, I can’t ship destiel because of Sam, or more specially, Sam & Dean:

Sam and Dean have such a twisted-up, enmeshed, and all-consuming relationship with each other, that shipping either of them with characters outside of their relationship just isn’t interesting to me. I personally don’t ship them together, either. What they have goes beyind relationship categorization (brothers, friends, adversaries, parent/child, life partners, etc.), and I honesty think if the show had defied network parameters and actually had them hook up sexually, the relationship would have lost something. Sam and Dean are so unique and compelling in that their big love is a sibling and not a romantic parnptner, or even a parent/child relationship, that even as a fan of a good romantic pairing normally, I love that them exactly as they are. And their relationship is more meaningful to me than almost any other fictional one I’ve encountered. So frankly, shipping either with anyone long-term (I wouldn’t have hated seeing both of them have one more short romantic relationship in there somewhere) just feels pointless to me, and would just pale in comparison to what Sam and Dean are with to each other.

[tvboaerosmith]

I thought it'd be good fun if I did a list like this for Smith and Neo, so I took one that looked interesting and this happened. Happy reading.

1. When did you start shipping them?

I first watched The Matrix somewhere around May or April of 2023. I didn't ship them on my initial watch through of the Matrix... It was just more of a gradual like for them as a pairing. I think I started concretely liking them around August 2023? In fact, the first ever ship related art I drew for the Matrix was Morpheus and Neo, and my first ship fic was quite literally *Merovingian* and Neo!

2. What do you like about them as individuals?

I'm surprised to say that what I love most about Neo isn't even actually his looks or his personality (even though I like these parts of him too) but rather what he represents. He's a second chance, freedom personified.

Though he was indeed a puppet in the end, I loved what he built for himself even as he was stuck to his role, how calm and collected he can be. He really is elegant, svelte, but that doesn't mean he's blank or wooden — It makes me smile that sometimes classic "90s badass hero" speech leaks through, like "Hiya fellas".

As for Smith, I initially only found his writing interesting. I cannot say I am attracted to Hugo Weaving. Gradually I understood his character more and more and found that I really can relate to him. Actually, people often call the Matrix movies a trans metaphor, and I feel like this metaphor for self discovery and struggle with the world can actually be found most in Smith?

Of course I'm not saying I think his character is trans, just that his problems really felt like mine. I like that he's such a lonely character in perfect parallel to how popular Neo is, I like that he is the perfect personification of bigotry because people hate what they do not understand because they are crucially scared of it just the way Smith is terrified.

He reminds me of a child grappling tearfully at things he just can't understand, because he simply has a mental blockade to these things because he was made and bred and raised in a totally different purpose and world than that of Neo's.

3. What about their dynamic appeals to you?

Actually, I often see others say their appeal is in Smith and Neo as the classic enemies to lovers troupe. I admit a lot of my favourite ships fall under this too, but I've always viewed Smith and Neo's story as one of redemption and one of a second chance.

Smith represents somebody who doesn't fit into society, suddenly finding himself ripped away from the comfort of conformity, even when he was made specifically for that. He hates everything that he perceives, because to him they are mentally and physically vile. He craves the comfort of belonging.

And when he is totally thrown and discarded from the system, instead of changing himself the way Neo does for his own freedom and peace of mind, he foolishly deigns to change his cage, to hijack The Matrix.

He struggles, and in this struggle I find sympathy with his character. Neo on the other hand is Smith's saviour, as is his entire character as the saviour of the human race, but I like to think he can save other races too, even when Smith is to me the most human of the two.

This is important: Neo is the ONLY one in the whole world who can possibly understand Smith's anguish. Inexorably they are linked not just through fate but also by choice. They need each other, they love each other, they hate each other, and all these things surmount to such importance it cannot not be mentioned in tandem with the names of Smith and Neo.

They are together in life and in death. Neo is the only one who can soothe Smith's fears, and it is Smith's own refusal to accept that Neo understands that dooms him. They matter more to each other than anybody else. The Matrix is a love story—but not between the characters of Neo and Trinity.

4. What are their favourite things about one another?

This is a hard question to answer, considering Smith and Neo aren't just some regular pairing.

I can't decide if Neo's favourite thing about Smith would be his machine side or his humanity. Would he enjoy that Smith is a program, because it shows him the whole new world he didn't know of, of programs who love just like Rama Kandra told him, or would he enjoy that Smith is so human in his emotions and his inner conflict and find it beautiful in a creature meant to be incapable of them?

Would he love that Smith can access these emotions, that Smith chose to access these emotions, that it means he can love and hate Neo so deeply and so subconsciously and so truthfully?

Either way, Neo's favourite thing about Smith would definitely be his character. I think speaking on terms of by the end of Revolutions, he'd like to watch Smith struggle, because it shows Smith is trying, Smith is alive. But he would not like Smith's pain, or his fear.

And how about Smith's favourite thing about Neo.... Hmm, I don't know! I thought maybe "his capacity to understand Smith" would be a good answer, but Smith's just scared of that as proven by his reaction at the end of Rev.

I think I'll still have to keep that as my answer though, but with some notes, that Smith would come to love this part of Neo, that he is the ONLY ONE for Smith, but only with time and only by learning this very very slowly. In the end, what he likes (or maybe more accurately, what part of Neo successfully attracts the most of Smith's attention whether positive or negative) most about Neo is that he *is* Neo.

He's human in all the worst ways, he's relentless, he's able to learn his own mistakes, he's able to rise above conflict, he's able to accept Smith as his death, that Neo believes in love so fiercely that he'd throw the world away for said love.

5. How do you envision them getting together?

I don't think there's such a thing as "dating" or "talking phases" for these two. It's more of a natural, unspoken thing. From the start they've "gotten together" after all, they're stuck to each other from beginning to end!

Technically they've been "dating" since conception, even. To be honest, I have never once agreed with any portrayal of Smith or Neo confessing to each other, because they understand each other so innately that none of it even has to be said. It comes to them like breathing, their love for each other.

Maybe if I had to picture it, Smith would be the first to explicitly say something like "I love you" years into the future after Revolutions (this is following the theory that Smith and Neo become tutelary saints after Rev), but only just to say what they've already known, and what they've frankly already said a thousand times with their eyes or their actions, just to set it all into concrete, to acknowledge this in a healthy way because Smith would definitely become a changed man after everything.

By then, Neo wouldn't have any reaction to it, he'd probably just reply "I know", and they'd continue on as normal.

6. What would their dream home look like?

7. How do they split up the housework and chores?

Going to skip both these questions because by the way they operate, neither Smith nor Neo would require anything like a house. But whenever I imagine them in any kind of living quarters I surprisingly imagine either the mail building where Mouse was killed and Morpheus got captured, or in The Merovingian's chateau (thanks to this old RPG on LJ). Though I do think Room 303 would be a place of significance to them both.

About question 7, I don't even need to elaborate on why I can't even answer this one.

8. What are their love languages, and how do they show their affection?

If we're talking about affection the way a regular couple would show it like buying flowers or a peck on the cheek or holding hands—thats just a big fat MAYBE for this pairing, and probably only YEARS after Revolutions with a lot of character development for Smith.

Otherwise? I think the way Smith would show affection in a very unhealthy way would be by possession. He must own Neo. He will chase him (the exact way he did in Reloaded through Revolutions, even chased him all the way into the real world!) until he gets him. He'd be overly territorial to the point it'd be overbearing.

If we're talking about how he would show affection while the timeline is still set in the movies, he simply would not be able to understand his own intense feelings for neo adequately enough to be able to interpret and act them out in a way that wouldn't be completely destructive. In order for his manner of "affection" to win Neo over, Neo has to be a god that understands and forgives and sympathises, and thankfully, Neo really is this kind of "god". Smith would break the moment Neo sees through him.

Neo on the other hand, if I'm going to go off what I can parse out from the movies.... To be honest it'd probably be sex. We can see that he never ever once gets his hands off of Trinity in Reloaded. For fucks sake he jumps on her the MOMENT Link walks out. He'd probably crave sexual contact with Smith.

In the draft script of Reloaded though there isn't any such thing as an explicit Neotrin sex scene, there's still a scene where Dujour and Chong tell them about how important it is that they should have sex, etc etc. Plus the existence of the rave orgy scene implies that apparently this is what is considered the highest form of affection and intimacy for Zionites, so it'd be the same for Neo.

Otherwise and on a far less sexual note, his way of showing affection is probably just *being there* for Smith as he struggles through his messy existence. Quality time together, you know.

9. Do you see them getting married, and if yes what does their wedding look like?

No, they wouldn't get married. Marriage is only a piece of worthless paper made from only human customs to signify a relationship. It doesn't have to be the end point of any relationship to "perfect" or "complete" it. Neo and Smith have a deeper connection than this, but I still think there is potential for fun in an OOC type marriage scenario.

10. Can you imagine them having any kids or pets?

I actually have this weird running thing that keeps popping up in my head where Neo and Smith adopt a white cat called Jamais Vu, a parody of Deja Vu.

Of course the word "adopt" doesn't quite fit here, it'd be more like the cat shows up often from time to time til the point Neo can name it and they recognise each other.

And a little bit of OOC guilty pleasure: I like to think they might unofficially adopt Sati, though she'd definitely think of Smith as the bad parent and Neo as the good parent and get grumpy when she sees Smith. You best believe Seraph would be "fighting for custody", though.

11. How do they comfort each other?

With presence, with existence, with words and feelings and their connection. With deep, unrivalled understanding of each other and therefore who they are, what they're here to do, how they feel.

12. Is there anything you don't like about this ship?

Nothing. Not even the fact it isn't canon, actually, in fact I think that makes it even better. "The fact Smith died!" Could have been a potential answer, but even then, that was such masterful writing on the Wachowski's part, that I can't say anything.

13. What would be their least favourite thing about each other?

LMAO.

Smith hates Neo's ability to understand, ability to believe in love or even in something no matter what it is, hates Neo's ability to be unbothered by the stench and smell and abhorrence of his own human kind, he pretty much hates Neo himself, even, even if I like to interpret that hate as more of a messed up byproduct or outcome of his own hard to understand, burning love for Neo that he interprets as obsession, and because he is wired the way he is and made for that one purpose and that purpose only: To Kill Neo, his love comes out as hate.

Neo probably hated Smith too in the beginning, but as a personification of the system. After all Smith is an enforcer of it, this fake digital prison that has so many of his fellow men in it. And also Smith literally kidnapped Morpheus, a man Neo already had held in high regard. But frankly, that hate turned into understanding into a little bit of pity or sympathy.

14. What sorts of things might they argue about?

Everything they already do argue about in the trilogy (take special note of their final conversation in Revolutions). I have nothing to add onto this.

15. Do they face any pushback from friends, families, or society over their relationship?

Now THIS is an interesting question! I read once in this really cool RPG a scenario where nearly all the programs and rebels disapproved of Smith and Neo's public relationship because they were "different races", and they even had a made up slur for a human that dates a program (little questionable, but keep in mind this RPG was made in 2005)

Meanwhile, Neo's "parents" who are still alive in this AU are deeply shocked that he's dating a man, but if we are to be precise, Smith is not a man, he's genderless lines of ageless code meant to look behave and talk like society's portrayal of a man and to inhabit a man's shell. We don't even know for sure if Smith has a dick, I don't even think he's ever taken his clothes off before frankly!

So basically I mentioned this AU because it got me thinking: holy shit, Smith and Neo would be the ONE and ONLY program/human mixed relationship in their world. That'd be cool. I like to imagine they'd be more of a beacon of the humanity in programs and the ultimate symbolism of humanity and machinekind's ability to love each other and work together more than a point of disdain for all three factions (machine, programs, humans) though.

So no, no pushback, though I imagine it would definitely be shocking to learn that the adored One is in a relationship with what is considered the "enemy", but that's nice too, because it shows the ultimate acceptance, and isn't that exactly what progressives(the rebels) strive for?

16. Who has more experience with relationships?

Definitely Neo lol. Neo would be the first ever person Smith would have ever had something going on with. I think Neo may have had relationships with others before Trinity, too.

17. What physical traits do they find most attractive about each other?

Hmm, this is tricky.

I can't exactly see Smith outwardly liking anything physical about Neo to be honest? I know that sounds absurd, but if following canon we all know Smith finds humans repulsive to smell touch and even see, I think. It'd be hard for him to overcome this problem even when together with Neo.

But then again, that's the thing about being in love. When you love them, you will love the body that holds the mind and the person that you love. The more you speak to them, the more you are enamoured by them, the more attractive they appear to you, the more you are able to romanticise their body. That's the case for me as well.

So maybe.... Smith's favourite thing about Neo's body is... His elegance??? The way he moves with totally unconscious grace. He'd love everything about Neo's body, there wouldn't be a favourite part, all parts are equally liked.

And Neo's favourite thing about Smith's is his expressive face that shows his humanity, particularly his eyes, the window to the soul.

Sorry, I can't answer these questions sexually as originally intended. I realise that I've never even put in thought to that question before answering this, which is a bit shocking.

18. Do they ever engage in PDA, and if so, to what extent?

Neo seems to be more private. Everybody knows what goes down behind doors, but he still has the decency to wait until they'd be alone to go ham on Smith. If in public, I don't think I've ever seen him even ONCE touch or hold trinity's hand or kiss her in the audience of several people.

If however let's say they haven't seen each other in a long time etc or something serious is going down, Neo would probably abandon all pretense and kiss him and throw his arms around him at his first chance, just the way he did for Trinity in Mobil Ave and after she revived.

Smith on the other hand.... Oh boy. He'd PDA all OVER the damn place. In the first place he wouldn't hold any regard for what is considered acceptable in human society or etiquette in the first place, he's a rogue program.

That's ironic, since he is supposed to be the personification of those societal expectations. Plus because of his tendency for possessiveness that I mentioned earlier, he'd probably feel a need to signal to everybody and anybody that THIS IS MINE, HISS, DO NOT COME CLOSE.

Besides, Smith is childish in the sense that he is just now figuring out his own humanity, so like a child he'd probably want to completely own the one constant and one thing in his life, Neo, and cling onto him.

19. What are the most sensitive parts of each others body?

Neo: Waist, stomach, back. He probably doesn't have a ticklish neck if he can wear that long mandarin collar all day every day. Maybe his inner thighs if I let myself be a little idealistic?

Smith: Does Smith even feel sensations???? Or does he just mechanically register them in code or some shit? Maybe he only is able to start registering them after he goes rogue? Either way I don't think Smith would be sensitive literally anywhere. That or the complete opposite, where he is sensitive everywhere because he is unused to the new sensation of pain or pleasure or touch etc, and hates it.

20. What is their dynamic like in the bedroom?

As for the question of top or bottom, I honestly am only interested in Neo as a bottom and Smith as a top, but realistically speaking they would switch. Although here's my take on that: I think the very first time they do it, Neo would definitely have to be the receiver, because of Smith's desire to consume and own, and because Smith who has always craved a position of power/security would probably rather shoot himself in the head than ever bottom.

For Smith to bottom would have to take time and would only happen later into their relationship once Smith fully trusts Neo, and once he's developed enough. Besides, Neo would probably like to try something different from what he's used to with Trinity.

And no, I don't believe Trinity would have ever pegged Neo at all, because that's a common projection from the queer fandom onto two characters who are a typical cisgender heterosexual couple. So yes, Neo would have something different in bed with Smith. I think that's a cool parallel with the two people most important to Neo's story.

Okay, seems like that's it. Thanks for reading through this whole thing, if you did! Feel free to make your own SmiNeo or TriNeo or etc etc versions of this, I'd love to read that.

20 Shippy Questions for your OTP’s, OT3’s, and Polycules

The basics

1. When did you start shipping them?

2. What do you like about them as individuals?

3. What about their dynamic appeals to you?

4. What are their favorite things about one another?

5. How do you envision them getting together?

The fluff

6. What would their dream home look like?

7. How do they split up housework and other chores?

8. What are their love languages, and how do they show each other affection?

9. Do you see them getting married, and if your answer is yes, what would their wedding look like?

10. Can you imagine them having any kids and/or pets?

The angst

11. How do they comfort each other?

12. Is there anything you don’t like about this ship?

13. What would be their least favorite things about one another?

14. What sorts of things might they argue about?

15. Do they face any pushback from friends, families, or society over their relationship?

Bonus ~saucy~ questions

16. Who has more experience with relationships?

17. What physical traits do they find most attractive about one another?

18. Do they ever engage in PDA, and if so, to what extent?

19. What are the most sensitive parts of each individual’s body?

20. What is their dynamic like in the bedroom?

[obsessedwithfictionalmen01]

Celestial Date

A/N: Hey there! It's been a long time since I've written anything!! This is a little idea I had a few days ago I hope you guys enjoy it and just remember English is not my first language so if there's any mistakes please let me know! 🩷

Pairing: Castiel x Fem!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Summary: Reader has a crush on Castiel and her brothers (Sam and Dean) know about it, more importantly they also know Castiel feels the same way, so they play a little match maker game by setting them up for a Valentine's Day dinner!

Warnings: none? i think?

Castiel stared at the state of the bunker, he didn't know how or why but someone had decorated it with heart balloons, heart shaped paper cuts on the walls, a heart shaped pie laid on the kitchen counter. Why so many hearts? He asked himself as he looked around the bunker. For sure this wasn't Deans’ idea, maybe Sam… but then he herd it, your small giggle echoing the hall. This had to be your idea.

“Hey, Cas! You like it?” You asked excitedly, holding pair of scissors and a pink colored paper.

Castiel stared at you for a few seconds confused, that's when it hit you. He didn't now about Valentine's Day. But he knew freaking cupid himself.

“It's Valentine's Day!” you said excitedly as you pointed at the heart shaped balloons around the room. Castiel followed your pointing finger and looked around.

“You do know that's not what hearts look like, right?” He asked with a small soft smile, he didn't mean it in a rude way, he was actually confused.

“I know! But this is much prettier than a real heart” You explained with a gentle tone looking at him, you didn't know why but everytime you stared into his eyes you swore you could get lost in them for hours, a pretty blue color and so many emotions packed in them.

Castiel on the other hand could listen to your voice for eternity, whenever you would start rambling about your newest hyper fixation Cas would be the only one listening, your brothers too used to it dissociated and just nodded. But not Cas, he would listen carefully watching your lips move and voice getting pitchier the more excited you got with the conversation. Like now.

“Valentine's Day is literally the best day of the year, it's the only day we truly celebrate love and friendship, there's hearts everywhere, people buying and receiving flowers… It’s so magical” You said with dreamy eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you like flowers?” He asked.

“Are you kidding? Who doesn't love flowers?”

“Well I understand why humans would find them beautiful but you know they are basically dead, right?”

You looked at him trying not to chuckle, you were amazed by his point of view of life, how he found everything so complex and rare. And he loved how you viewed life, you found beauty in the most simple and small things.

“I'm gonna go and get ready for tonight. Sam and Dean want all of us to have dinner tonight in a nice place near the bunker, they say they are doing it for me but I know they just want to have a drink later and maybe find a desperate girl in the bar” You said with a small grin before you turned around and walked towards your room “See you at dinner, Cas”.

Castiel watched you walk away, his heart skipping a beat when your head turned to look one last tie at him before entering your room. He decided to head into the kitchen where he found Dean and Sam eating a slice of the pie you made, he sat down next to them with a concerned look in his eyes.

“You are going to spoil your appetite for dinner” He said when both brothers looked at each other and then at him. “Oh we are not going out” Dean said with a small grin chuckling. “But I heard we were…” Castiel started before Sam cut him off “No, Dean and I aren't going”

“I don't understand” Castiel said, Dean looked at him and sighed, he stood up from the chair and walked towards him, his hands placed on his shoulders “A little birdie told us you may have a crush on our little sis” He said with a mocking tone “And another birdie told us that maybe our little sister also has a crush on you” Sam continued “So we thought… maybe it's time they both had a chance to have a date, and what better day than Valentine's Day? As you can see he loves it” Sam said with an amused smile.

“She… likes me?” Castiel asked, still shocked. His eyes stared into the table, he would have noticed, right?

“Just one thing…” Dean said before he pressed his angel blade against Castiel's back “One wrong move and I end you” He stated now in a more serious tone. Castiel only stared at Sam worried, this wasn't the first time he felt something like this for a human but this was her it wasn't just any human and of course Sam and Dean's sister which he already knew what it meant.

Castiel took a deep breath and when Dean put the blade away he looked at both brothers with a pleading look “What should I do?”

“Hey man, just be yourself. We know how much you care about her, you’ll be fine” Sam said with a small genuine smile. Castiel nodded and got up from his chair “Thank you” He said to them before he quickly disappeared. Both brothers looked at each other and laughed, they wished they could be there to witness this date.

A few hours later you were all dressed up waiting outside the restaurant for the boys and the angel, you looked at your phone when you felt a presence behind you, turning around quickly you were met with Castiel, he wasn't wearing his usual trench coat and suit. He was wearing a much nicer suit without his tie, the white shirt had a few buttons undone and the black suit jacket fitted his form perfectly. You couldn't help but look at him up and down your eyes taking in how handsome he looked, you were so distracted by it you didn't even notice the hand he was hiding behind his back.

“Hello” He said gently with a small smile, he was nervous but tried his best not to show it. “Hey, Cas. You look very handsome” You said feeling the heat rising up to your cheeks.

Now he was the one taking in your appearance, your outfit hugging the curves of your body perfectly, the color perfectly matching with your eyes which sparkled under the moonlight, Castiel could swear he was in Heaven again. His mouth opened but nothing came out, he was stuck. That's when he remembered the small gift he brought you, his hand finally sticking out holding a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Oh, Cas. You shouldn't have…” You said when you looked at the flowers, your eyebrows arching with a small pout, but a happy one almost endearing. “Well you said that you liked flowers and that that was something people did in Valentine’s Day so I thought…” You stopped him by standing on your tip toes and kissing his cheeks gently

“They're perfect, thank you” You said taking the flowers and smelling them briefly.

Castiel looked at you wondering how was it possible for such a simple creature to be as beautiful and sweet as you, he wondered what he had done to deserve you. His thoughts quickly pushed aside when you took his hand leading him inside the restaurant, you sat at your table placing the flowers on top of it when it hit you, the table was for two, not four. You frowned and looked at Castiel confused “Are the boys coming?”

Castiel looked at you briefly before his hand rubbed the back of his neck “No” He replied nervously, he didn't know how you would react when you found out about your brother's little scheme.

“They had this planned didn't they?” You asked rhetorically. He simply nodded with a shy smile.

“Well since they went through the trouble we should just enjoy, right?” you said with a small grin, the waitress appeared and you both ordered drinks and your food, you knew Cas didn't usually eat or drink but after he became a human he missed savoring food so he tried every now and then.

An hour passed and both of you were having a great evening, you talked about everything instantly connecting in a deeper and more intimate way, you felt your cheeks slightly turning red from the wine you had and Castiel looked more relaxed and happier than usual, he felt like he could listen to your voice for hours and not get tired.

Finally both of you decided to pay and have the last drink at the bunker, he took your hand gently and then walked with you through the streets at night, all restaurants filled with lovers celebrating this day you couldn't help but look subtly at them, which didn't go unnoticed by Castiel.

“You know, angels can feel love, we can fall in love and feel all kinds of emotions but humans… you take it to the next level, you live and love in such a special way. It amazes me” he said, looking at you with a small smile.

“I guess knowing your life has an ending makes everything more special” You replied, squeezing his hand gently. You both remained silent after that admiring the calm night when finally you reached the bunker.

You entered first looking around to see if your brothers were home but no one seemed to be there. You took Castiel’s hand and guided him inside, he sat on the couch while you looked for Dean’s whiskey bottle he hid from everyone. When you finally found it you poured it in two glasses and sat next to Cas on the couch, one of your legs on top of him as you handed him his drink.

“I had a really good time tonight” you said looking into his baby blue eyes, you wanted this night to never end. “Me too.” he replied, placing the glass on top of the table “Dean told me… that you liked me.”

You stared at Castiel blinking for a few seconds, feeling your cheeks turning even more red “That bitch” you replied “Cas, I know it must be weird for you, I don't expect nothing from this you don't have to feel pressured honestly I don't know why he would tell you that I simply…” Castiel kept listening to you when he noticed you rambling nervously he leaned in, finally kissing your lips. You stopped talking instantly and closed your eyes feeling his hand on your cheek gently caressing you, you could taste the whiskey on his lips. You wanted more so you placed your hands on his chest and deepened the kiss slipping your tongue between his lips. A small moan escaped Castiel’s mouth and he took your hips in his hands lifting you up and sitting you down on his lap.

“Is this Ok?” He asked breaking the kiss to look at you, worried you would change your mind. He had his hands now on your hips holding your body against him and your hands were unbuttoning his shirt very slowly “Yes, Cas. This is perfect” you said before attacking his lips again. You both got lost in each other's hands and lips, he was unzipping your dress, his hands caressing your skin, your heart beating loudly and your hands taking his shirt off…

“For the love of God, not on the couch!” Dean yelled, startling both of you.

“Oh my God I’m gonna need therapy after this” Sam said laughing with his hands covering his eyes.

“Get a room!” Dean yelled again.

Castiel and you looked at each other and chuckled, your face hiding in the crook of his neck “I wouldn't mind taking this somewhere more private” he whispered in your ear. And that's how you both ended up entering your room and closing the door behind you. This was gonna be the best Valentine's day ever.