#i don’t have an explanation for paul

[lilywave]

paul matthews, linda monroe, and karen chasity are all siblings actually they told me themselves

[fruit-teeth]

Zhanna: you talk too much. I will pick you up and throw you across room if you do not stop talking

Miss Pauling: are you making a move on me

Zhanna:

Miss Pauling: it’s fine I just didn’t see it coming

[sethsclearwater]

synopsis: based on this request from @raxwrites where paul imprints on reader but she’s already in a (very shitty) relationship. paul convinces her to spend one night with him and reader realizes just how quickly he’s making her fall for him.

warnings: smut, dom!paul, sub!reader, cheating(?) (on a shitty guy lol)

word count: 5.49k

…

you and leah had been friends since childhood. you two were more or less attached at the hip and it was one of the many reasons why leah had decided to fuck with sam’s head and tell you about the shapeshifters. fortunately for everyone, you had taken the news quite well and actually found the whole thing rather funny considering how annoyed you had the opportunity to watch sam get when he heard she broke the news. 

shortly after the news broke, embry had made an off-handed joke about you being paul’s imprint - yet another thing you were unfamiliar with. despite the death stare embry got from paul after saying that, he stumbled out some half-assed explanation of it which left you more confused about the whole thing than ever. 

after both leah and embry had given you the world’s vaguest explanation of it, you had decided to just drop it and go back to focusing on the fact that leah and her entire “friend group” were a bunch of massive wolves. 

all of this led to today where you and your boyfriend were in a heated argument over his night out with a girl who he had repeatedly told you not to worry about. “for fuck’s sake josh! what part of you two spending the night together was platonic?” you yelled, angry tears streaming down your cheeks as you got up from your spot at the kitchen table to find your keys and phone. 

you two had been going at it for over 2 hours now and were making absolutely no progress so you figured now was as good a time as any to get the hell out of your apartment. 

“we literally didn’t do anything! i don’t get why you have to make such a big deal out of everything! you seriously need to work on your jealousy issues because you sound crazy right now!” your boyfriend yelled back, making sure his voice was louder than yours in some weak attempt to assert his dominance over you.

at the use of the word ‘jealousy’ you decided this was it and grabbed your phone and keys before quickly getting out of the apartment, sprinting down the steps to your car despite the sub-freezing, snowy conditions currently happening all around you.

as you turned the ignition on and began pulling out of your parking spot, you could faintly make out josh at the top of the steps yelling some slew of obscenities at you. you ignored him, using the back of your hand to wipe the tears off your cheeks before you were driving over to emily young’s house where leah supposedly was according to her last text a few hours prior.

after hearing that your boyfriend decided to spend the night with another girl (who he adamantly claimed was just a friend), leah let you know that she’d be over at emily’s for most of the day if you needed her or a place to stay for the night while you cooled off.

the drive over to emily’s was only about 10 minutes but ended up taking nearly double that thanks to the snow-covered roads. as you pulled into her driveway and quickly got out of your car, you neglected to realize that the only car in her driveway was one of the boy’s. 

in your haste, you ran up to the door, knocking rather hard when you finally felt the chill from the 20-degree temperatures outside. it didn’t take more than a few seconds for the door to open and reveal paul lahote.

he looked just as confused as you imagined you must’ve but you couldn’t have really cared less, just desperate to get out of the cold at this point, “where’s leah?” you asked with a sniffle as you pushed past him to get into the warmth of emily’s house.

paul stepped back, quickly shutting the door behind him to keep the heat in, “she’s on patrol- or work, fuck, work-” he stumbled out, watching your crying figure as you kicked your shoes off and tossed your keys and phone onto the entryway bench. 

“are you okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice softening as you slumped down in one of the kitchen chairs with another round of tears rolling down your cheeks. you’d seen paul on occasion, mostly in group settings with the rest of the pack but he did drive you home a few times when it was too rainy or snowy for you to walk back so you weren’t total strangers.

you paused at his question, looking up at him pleadingly with tears rapidly streaming down your cheeks. you imagined you must’ve looked like a hot mess. you’d gotten out of the shower just before your boyfriend arrived home so you hadn’t had time to do anything with your hair and were only wearing a pair of old sweatpants and some oversized t-shirt you’d pulled out of the back of your closet.

“do i look okay?” you asked, letting out a weak laugh as you reached your hands up to palm away the tears that couldn’t seem to stop streaming down your cheeks. paul frowned, watching you carefully as he pulled out the chair next to you, slowly sliding down into it as he tried to figure out what on earth to do with you.

“sorry,” paul mumbled after a moment, “he didn’t hit you, did he?” he asked, voice hesitating for a moment before he ended his question, clearly unsure if he was overstepping or not by prying into your personal life despite how little the two of you knew each other. 

you let out another breathy laugh at his concern, shaking your head with a sniffle, “jus’ cheated on me,” you managed to get out, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you pulled your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, still not meeting paul’s gaze. 

every ounce of dignity you had was just shredded thanks to the current state you found yourself in but paul didn’t seem to mind your emotions too much, “you wanna talk about it?” he asked softly, his frown deepening when yet another round of tears came spilling over your waterline and down your cheeks. 

shaking your head, you finally worked up the nerve to peek up and meet his gaze for a moment, “not really no,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “i hate that fucker,” you added after a moment, both you and paul letting out quiet laughs at your comment.

“can’t say i like him too much either,” paul reassured, cracking the tiniest bit of a smile which had you letting out a heavy sigh of relief. something in you just felt unbelievably better knowing that someone was able to sympathize with your pain.

“you want some water?” he asked after a moment, offering you a small smile when you nodded. while you attempted to dry your cheeks of your tears, paul got up and quickly got you a glass of water to stop you from crying even more and hopefully lessen the severity of the headache both of you knew you’d be getting in a few short hours.

he handed you the glass, your fingers brushing for just a moment too long, “thank you,” you whispered, taking the glass and sipping on it to give yourself a moment to shake the insatiable feelings you were now realizing you’d definitely been having for the poor boy for months now. 

paul gave your upper arm a gentle squeeze before he was grabbing his phone, “you wanna sit down in the living room? emily’s got the pullout couch in there if you wanna get some sleep,” he asked as he quickly responded to whatever text he had just gotten a few moments prior. you thought about his proposition for a moment before humming and nodding.

“with you?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him as you looked up at him, your small smile coming in stark contrast to you puffy, tear-stained cheeks.

paul rolled his eyes, “won’t make it weird,” he reassured, “just don’t want you getting all worked up again,” he added, and this time you rolled your eyes, hardly able to contain the small smile on your face as you got up and made the incredibly short trek into the living room. 

while you grabbed your phone to see if leah had responded to any of your texts, paul got the pullout set up so the two of you could sit down there and hopefully just throw on a movie or something, “emily said leah is gonna be back in a few hours,” paul broke the silence with after a few moments as if he’d read your mind or something. 

you hummed and nodded, smiling softly when he offered you his hand so he could help you onto the makeshift bed. your hand slid into his as you got into the pullout, pausing for a moment when he slid his hand onto your lower back to help steady you. 

paul noticed your pause, gently squeezing your hand when you peeked over your shoulder to look at him, “everything okay?” he asked, watching as you finally allowed yourself to actually look at him.

your boyfriend or ex or whatever the hell he was must’ve clouded your vision way more than you thought because you’d never really paid any attention to paul or the way he looked at you before. but today, you finally saw how he’d been watching you this whole time, something much softer in his gaze than anything you’d ever seen with your boyfriend.

you’d never seen a man look at you like that before and weren’t looking to lose it anytime soon. before your mind could catch up to what your heart was planning, you were tightening your grip in his hand to pull him closer to you and smashing your lips against his.

paul must’ve seen it coming from a mile away because he didn’t waste any time before he was melting into you, untangling his hand from yours so he could slide both hands down to your hips and pull you closer to him. 

your hands were on his chest, desperately running them down until you found the hem of his t-shirt so you could slide your hands underneath, “fuck,” paul groaned against your lips when he felt the way your palms flattened out against the expanse of his abdomen, your hands sliding up his chest so you could tug his t-shirt up.

paul already understood what you meant, parting his lips from yours for a moment much to your dismay. he let out a breathy laugh as he pulled his shirt up and over his head when he saw the pout that had quickly formed on your face, “c’mere,” he murmured as soon as he had tossed the shirt to the side, sliding his hands back down to your hips so he could pull you closer to him and press his lips against yours again. 

his fingers toyed with the thin material of your t-shirt, “can i take this off?” he murmured against your lips, letting out a breathy laugh when you quickly nodded pulling back so he could help you take your shirt off. 

in your haste getting out of the shower earlier, you’d apparently neglected to put a bra on which left your bare chest exposed to him. paul sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the way your nipples were already hardening as they were exposed to the cool air, “fuck me,” paul groaned, “lay down-” paul ordered, not giving you a moment to process what he was saying before he was manhandling you down onto the squeaky pullout mattress, conveniently wedging himself in between your legs so he could have better access to you.

he didn’t waste any time, latching his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud while he massaged your other boob with his hand. “paul-” his name fell off your lips so easily, moaning and whining as he rolled your nipple between his finger and just barely grazed his teeth over the other one, “paul please-” you whimpered, desperately reaching down to pull him up so you could touch him in all the ways your body was begging you to.

“‘s wrong?” he asked with a breathy laugh, already knowing you were definitely more than okay but the sudden whining from you had him a little bit concerned he was being too rough with you.

you just shook your head, desperately reaching down to his sweatpants, “i need you-” was all you were able to make out as you dipped your hand below his waistline, immediately wrapping your hand around his now fully hardened cock. 

paul dropped his head against your collarbone and let out a low groan when he felt your fingers wrap around his length.  “i’ll fuck you in a minute,” he reassured, sliding his non-supporting hand over yours to gently pry it off of him so he could finish prepping you for him.

you let out a disgruntled sigh which had paul laughing again, shaking his head, “you got it,” he mused, dropping down to press a soft kiss to your lips. you were happily reciprocating the action against his lips, running your fingers up his chest so you could snake them around his neck and knot in his inky hair to pull him closer to you.

paul was all too aware of just how you needed him, making quick work of sliding his hands down to dip below your sweatpants, toying with the thin material of your panties for a moment, the frustration leaving you whining against paul’s lips.

he paid little mind to your whines, taking his time dancing his fingers along the outline of your panties, barely brushing his fingers over your covered clit, chuckling to himself when he heard the mewling that left your lips at the sensation, “paul-” you whimpered, tightening your fingers against his hair so you could hold him closer to you.

paul allowed you to hold him close, pressing his lips to your neck, “‘m comin’” he reassured, dipping his fingers below your panties so he could swipe them through your slick folds. you were muffling your whines against the crook of his neck, untangling your fingers from his hair so you could wrap your arms around his neck, a rather loud moan leaving your lips when he finally pressed down on your clit.

“there you go,” he murmured against your neck, slowly circling his pointer finger around your little entrance while his thumb continued to toy with the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, “breathe princess,” paul reminded as he lifted his head from your neck so he could get a better look at you, hardly containing his laugh when he heard just how fast your heart was beating from your lack of oxygen.

you nodded, sucking in a deep breath as you ran your fingers across his shoulders, dancing them along his chest while paul allowed you a moment to catch your breath, “there you go,” he mused, slowly dipping his pointer finger into your canal, the muscles immediately fluttering around him as you took the intrusion. 

“deep breaths for me princess,” paul murmured as he began curling and uncurling his finger inside you, working at stretching you out for his cock, “such a good job,” he cooed as he watched the way you followed his instructions, your little whines and moans as he continued to toy with your clit letting him know all he needed to know.

once he felt your walls beginning to relax around his finger, he slowly added a second finger to your channel, dropping his head down to press a soft kiss to your lips when he heard the low whine you let out at the stretch, “breathe princess,” paul reminded, his lips leaving yours for only a moment before he was melting into you again, slowly scissoring his fingers as he stretched you out. his thumb gently rolled your clit, the pleasure and paul’s lips against yours serving as a pleasant distraction from the stretching. 

once he’d decided you were no longer tense, he began curling his fingers inside your delicate walls, smiling to himself when he felt the spongey tissue of your g-spot, the sudden hitch in your breathing followed by a low moan letting him know he definitely needed to continue the action. 

he continued curling his fingers against the sensitive tissue, parting his lips from yours to pepper your neck and shoulders with delicate kisses. as soon as he felt your walls beginning to tighten around his fingers, he began working at marking up your collarbone.

“paul-” you whined, flattening your palms against his biceps, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your head dropped back into the pillows as you felt the coil in your belly beginning to tighten. you had never cum with your ex before, always finding yourself needing to take care of yourself on your own time because he couldn’t be bothered with it. so paul managing to have you nearly cumming on his fingers within just a few minutes was forcing you to rethink why the hell you hadn’t gotten with him sooner. 

“cum on my fingers princess,” paul murmured against your collarbone, continuing his steady pace as he stroked your g-spot and rolled your clit.

you whimpered, desperately working to meet your orgasm and come undone on your imprinter’s fingers, “nice and easy,” he murmured when he felt your walls tightening around his fingers, well aware of just how close you were to cumming, “there you go kitten, let go for me,” he encouraged, keeping all of his actions steady, his words sending you right over the edge as you finally complied and let go.

your orgasm washed over you, your walls desperately throbbing around paul’s fingers while he continued to lighten his touches, helping you work through it without overstimulating you too much. you were sucking in heavy lungfuls of air, eyes fluttering open as you worked at getting your heart rate down to a reasonable bpm. 

you wrapped your splayed palms around paul’s shoulders to pull him down for a tight hug. a soft laugh left his lips at your action, slowly pulling his fingers out of your soaked channel, “deep breaths princess,” he cooed, pressing his lips to your hairline while he allowed you a few more moments to compose yourself. 

“there you go,” he chuckled when he finally heard your breathing and heart rate even out to a reasonable level, “you think you can take my cock?” he asked as you loosened your grip on him a bit, allowing him to lift his head so he could get a better look at your expression.

you nodded, “please,” you whispered, running your hands across his shoulders and biceps before sliding them down his chest, looking down to the ever-prominent tent in his pants from you. your cheeks were heating up to a bright pink when you realized what an effect you were having on him, quickly lifting your gaze away from the bulge to look back up at him.

paul chuckled, “i’m all yours,” he reassured, failing to hide his smirk when he saw how flustered you got at the thought of him being yours. you’d been so oblivious to him for over a year now, too invested in your own problems to ever realize just how he looked at you or see how he always managed to be there for you at the perfect time. 

you slowly nodded as you processed his words, blushing an even deeper red when he got out from in between your thighs to get up and tug his sweatpants down. his hardened cock was quick to stand at attention, the tip a fierce red with droplets of precum pooling.

paul smirked again when he saw the way you were staring at his cock, leaning down to hook his fingers around your sweatpants and panties to he could tug them down and toss them to the side as well, “all mine?” you asked after a moment, finally pulling your gaze from his cock to look up at him.

“all yours,” paul confirmed as he got back on the pullout, “get on your hands and knees for me, yea? gonna show you who you belong to,” he added, barely holding back his laugh when he saw how flustered you continued to get every time he spoke to you. 

as you processed his words, paul slid his hands down to your hips so he could help you get onto your hands and knees, the poor pullout bed making all sorts of pathetic squeaks as it desperately tried to stay up while you and paul fucked. 

“such a good girl,” paul praised once you were settled on your forearms and knees, one of his hands remaining on your hip to steady you while he spit into the other one, quickly spreading the saliva across his cock to help lubricate him so you wouldn’t have too much difficulty taking his length. 

paul was by far the largest man you’d ever been with, something paul had managed to figure out by himself when he felt just how tight you were clamped down on his fingers a few minutes prior, “deep breath for me princess,” paul ordered as he slid his hand in between your thighs, dipping his finger into your channel for just a moment to make sure you were still ready to take him before he was pulling it out and replacing it with the tip of his cock.

at the feeling of his cock prodding at your entrance, you reminded yourself to breathe, letting out a slow exhale, and relaxed your hips so paul could pull you back onto his cock, “so fuckin’ pretty,” paul groaned, both hands tightly gripping your hips as he tugged your hips back to impale you on his cock, “keep breathing princess,” he reminded, keeping a firm grip on your hips as he felt the way your walls were desperately working to accommodate the intrusion that was your imprinter.

you were whining, resting your forehead against your hands as you tried to relax yourself enough to make room for paul, “‘s really big paul-” you whimpered, moving to pull your hips forward but paul’s hands remained firm.

“breathe princess,” paul reminded, “i’ve got you, yea? not gonna hurt you, just need to stretch you out on me, okay?” he added, gently rubbing his thumbs in circles against the fatty flesh of your hips.

you slowly nodded, peeking over your shoulder to look up at him, immediately feeling way better when you saw how confident he looked in his promise, “you want me to hold you? might help you feel better,” he suggested, smiling when you quickly nodded.

“c’mere,” he cooed, sliding his hands down to your ribs, slowly pulling you up. as he helped you up, his cock pushed further into your channel, “you’re okay,” he reassured when he heard your whining. he wrapped his arm around you, coming to rest just under your breasts as he pulled you up so your back was flush with his chest.

“just a little more,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around your abdomen so he could hold you steady as he pushed himself the rest of the way into you, “such a good girl,” he mused, pressing his lips to your head when he felt you finally relax into his arms, allowing your head to rest against the crook of his neck.

while he allowed you a few moments to process the feeling, he pressed gentle kisses to your hairline, murmuring quiet praises. once your walls stopped desperately clenching around him, relaxing just enough to accommodate him comfortably, you were letting out a soft sigh, lifting your head up to peek over your shoulder up at him, “feels okay?” he asked, pressing his lips to your temple when you hummed and nodded.

“that’s my girl,” he praised, muffling his chuckle against your hair when he felt your walls flutter around him at the praise, your heart skipping a few beats as you processed just what you were doing with him. you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck in a weak attempt to hide your blush from him, your hands hooking around his forearm to hold yourself steady.

paul decided against teasing you about it, suddenly becoming much more aware of just how badly he wanted to cum inside you when he felt your walls clenching down around him, “you let me know if you want me to slow down, okay?” he asked, waiting for you to nod before he was drawing his hips back, his cock dragging along your walls in the most delicious way possible before he was plunging himself back inside you, not wasting a moment before he was setting a rough pace, one hand holding you up while the other held your hips in place so he could snap his against yours.

you let out a loud whine at the first thrust, dropping your head back against his shoulder again, eyes closing as pleasure began flooding through your system yet again, “just needed my cock in you didn’t you?” he asked with a chuckle when he saw the way you were desperately nodding, loving how much pleasure you were so easily able to provide each other.

he slid one hand down to your abdomen, splaying his palm across the smooth skin so he could keep you steady but also drop his thumb down to toy with your clit. “oh my god-” you whimpered when you felt the pleasure coursing up your spine, forcing your brain into a fuzzy mess as you tried to comprehend all the sensations and emotions spilling through you.

“my cock feel that good? makin’ you feel better, isn’t it?” he gritted out, his thrusts getting rougher when he saw just how quickly you were coming undone on him. he held you up, supporting you as he continued to fuck you as you desperately nodded.

“so good-” you whimpered, “all yours,” you added softly, just loud enough for paul to pick up on it. hearing you admit he owned you just as much as you did him snapped something inside him, suddenly every fiber of his being telling him to make sure everyone knew you were his.

“this pussy is all mine, yea? all mine,” paul repeated, his grip around your chest tightening when he felt the way your walls were suddenly desperately fluttering and clenching around him, both of your emotions going haywire at the connection.

you hummed, squeezing your hands around his forearms in a weak attempt to stabilize yourself, “not giving it to anyone else, you understand? you’re mine now,” paul ordered, pinching your clit between his fingers when he realized you weren’t responding to him. 

a loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden jolt, “not giving it to anyone else-” you breathlessly repeated back, able to form a somewhat coherent response by some grace of god. you weren’t used to being made such a mess from a cock, desperately trying and failing to keep some shred of control as paul continued his ruthless thrusts. 

“that’s what i thought,” paul pushed his hips into yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix to send his point home, the action taking away any control you might’ve had as you fully surrendered in his arms, trusting him to support you, “gonna fill you up so everyone knows just who owns you and you’re gonna take it all like a good girl, aren’t you?” he asked, his rhetorical question sending your brain into a tizzy as you desperately nodded, not trusting yourself to form a coherent response.

paul let out a dark laugh when he saw your nod, your approval being all he needed to pick up the pace until he had your breasts bouncing atop his forearms with each thrust, your moans and heavy breaths filling the silence of emily’s living room as your orgasm rapidly began approaching.

“paul i’m gonna-” you started, gasping when he rolled your clit between his fingers, the action having you dangerously close to cumming without his approval and, based on how dominant he had been with you tonight, you’d imagined he wouldn’t take too kindly to you cumming before he let you.

“such a good girl,” paul praised, “make a mess on my cock for me,” he added, rubbing circles against your clit while his cock continued to stretch you out with each thrust, the small bulge in your belly with each snap of his hips sending him over the edge at the same time as you.

the knot in your belly snapped as paul shot his release into your walls, both of you holding each other as tight as you could as you rode your highs. paul’s thrusts stuttered as his cum spilled into you, the feeling of your walls throbbing around him as you came having him pushing his hips as close to yours as he could, “paul-” you whined when you felt the way the tip of his cock was prodding against your overstimulated cervix. 

“not yet-” he responded breathlessly, “let me fill you up,” he added, holding you close to him as he spilled his release in you. you nodded, relaxing back into him as you came down from your high, both of your breathing heavy and ragged as you came back down to earth. 

you gently squeezed paul’s forearms, lolling your head to the side so you could nuzzle your nose against his collarbone, “there you go,” paul murmured after a few moments, slowly loosening his grip on you so he could pull his cock back enough so he wasn’t overstimulating you to the point of annoyance, “you’re staying here for the night, yea?” he asked, pressing his lips to your hair as he waited for your response.

you let out a soft laugh and nodded, “you can have me in the morning if you want,” you added teasingly, squealing when paul snapped his hips back against yours at the comment, a lewd squelching sound from all the fluids pooling between your thighs. 

“i’ll be holding you to that,” paul agreed, giving you one more squeeze before he was slowly letting you go and pulling himself out of you so he could get you cleaned up. as he helped you lay down on the couch, you intertwined your fingers with his hand, tugging him down so he could lay next to you.

paul complied, allowing you to pull him close to you, “still gonna have to clean you up in a minute,” paul reminded, opening his arms so you could get between them wrapping them around you to hold you close once you got settled. 

“just wanna lay with you for a minute,” you whispered, tossing your leg over his hip to hold him even closer to you as paul got a blanket over your naked figures. your comment had his heart doing all sorts of things he’d never felt before so he settled for just pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you cuddled up with him.

before paul’s mind could get the best of him, you peeked up at him, “i’ll break up with him,” you reassured, smiling when paul let out a heavy sigh of relief, nodding. 

you snuck a quick kiss against his lips, smiling when you saw how flustered you managed to make him over the action, quickly burying your face in the crook of his neck so you could get comfortable and allow him a moment to get it together.

paul gently ran his hand up and down your side, holding you close to him as the two of you just soaked each other in. before he could come up with a response to your promise, he heard your breathing begin to even out, quickly realizing you’d definitely fallen asleep in his arms.

“just a few minutes,” he mumbled to himself, holding you close as he also let the fatigue take over him as well.

bonus: leah, emily, and some of the boys coming back to find reader and paul’s clothes thrown all over the house with the two of them passed out on the pull out couch - all of them can’t stop laughing about it and never let reader and paul live it down.

[therealcocoshady]

Hi coco I wanna try putting in a request

Marshall x fem reader

Marshall and reader have a child there 4 or 5 (boy or girl idc ) and marshal and reader are indulging in late night activities (18+) and there child wakes up screaming bc they heard y/n screaming . So they come running knocking on the door to see if she’s ok .

You don’t have to do this kinda a bad idea

Hey ! Thanks for your request ! I love your idea ❤️. I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope you enjoy reading !

The Monster

Eminem x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : Lily gets scared when she hears Reader screaming during sex. Her and Em need to come up with some explanation.

Tags : Smut - Fluff - Comfort

Warning : SMUT (P in V, use of toys, anal, oral, biting, squirting…).

Author’s Note : I decided to use the same characters as in the one shot « One more baby ? » because why not ?

Your daughter was finally in bed, which only meant one thing : it was on. Baby-making time. Ever since you had decided to try for another child, your evenings with Marshall were filled with… spirited activities. Your sex life had always been active, but trying for a baby had you ten times hornier than you usually were. Same for your husband. For the past two months, as soon as Lily’s bedroom lights were out, you couldn’t jump on each other fast enough.

Trying for a baby not only made you hornier, it also made you more daring, more creative, much to Marshall’s delight. He was definitely enjoying the many new lingerie sets you had bought, as well as the toys and accessories. Since you had Lily on your own, with IVF, you decided to have as much fun as you could as you tried to give her a sibling. New positions, games, accessories, toys… as long as he was cumming inside of you, everything was fair game.

You were ovulating and had been a horny mess since this morning. It didn’t help that your dutiful husband had decided to work from home, staying in his grey sweatpants that you found him so sexy in. Days like this, he would usually stay in his home office but, for some reason, he had decided to work in the dining room. You weren’t going to complain : at least you got to admire him.

It was the holidays so were taking care of Lily but you couldn’t help but throw longing glances at each other. Every time he got a chance, he would tease you, brushing against you, gently squeezing your butt… and you got right back at him, leaning and bending forward every time you were in front of him so that he could have a good view of either your ass or your boobs. You felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

From Husband ❤️ : Keep on teasing me like this and you’re not walking for the next week.

You flashed him a smile and « accidentally » dropped the pencils you were holding.

- Mommy, did you drop something again ? Lily asked in an annoyed voice.

- I did, baby, you replied as you tried to hide a smile. I guess I’m really clumsy today…

- Daddy always says that we should be careful with our things, your daughter reminded you.

- And Daddy is always right, Marshall added with a smirk. I swear, Lily is the only good girl around here…

You giggled and bent to pick up the pencils as your husband stared at you - or rather at your cleavage that also showed a hint of the lingerie set that was waiting for him. You saw him licking his lips. Obviously, black lace was always a good choice. You forgot where you were and eye-fucked each other for a second before being taken out of your trance by Lily.

- Daddy, will you come and draw with us ? She asked.

- I have work to do, sweetie, he said with a small pout. I’d love to draw with you but Paul is going to be very unhappy if I don’t review these contracts for tomorrow.

- Uncle Paul always gives you work, she complained as she rolled her eyes.

- True, he chuckled. Next time you see him, you tell him he needs to leave Daddy alone, alright ?

- Yes, she said. You’re my Daddy and I miss drawing with you.

You could see Marshall’s heart melt at these words. He threw a guilty glance at the contracts on the dining room table and you could tell he was tempted to drop everything.

- I really have to work, baby, he said. But if you let me work in peace, I can go quicker and then we can do something together, ok ?

- Ok, she said. Can we make pizza just the two of us tonight ?

- Of course, he said with a smile. We can cook for Mommy. I think she’s a little too clumsy to be in the kitchen today anyway.

You giggled and took your daughter to the living room to draw for a little bit. As the evening came, Marshall kept his promise and cooked with Lily. Pizza was her favorite thing to make with her Dad. The two of them always made a mess in the kitchen, but it made them so happy that it was worth it. When it was time for bed, she insisted that Marshall be the one to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. She was clearly in her « Dad phase » and he was her favorite parent. You’d read it was normal so you didn’t worry much. Plus, it was fair : he was working a lot lately, so she probably missed him.

You decided to make the most of it and wait for your husband in the bedroom, only wearing your lingerie and high heels. With a 5 year-old, you didn’t wear your heels too much, but you knew how much Marshall loved the sight of your legs when you wore these red bottoms. You were searching for something in a drawer when you heard him enter the bedroom and lock the door. The familiar sound was always arousing to you. It was time to play.

- I have a bone to pick with you, Mrs Mathers, he said playfully in your ear as he stood behind you.

- Do you ? You giggled.

- You drove me crazy all day, he whispered. Time for consequences.

You were about to turn and face him when you felt his hands on the back of your neck, forcing you to bend over the dresser. He got closer to you until you could feel how hard he was. You couldn’t help but moan. After all, you had spent the whole day waiting for this moment. Little did he know that you were soaking wet.

- I could take you right here, he whispered in your ear.

- Please, you moaned.

- Not yet, he chuckled. Let me enjoy the view.

He ran his hands on your sides, your back, your legs, spilling kisses all over your body as you stayed in this position, all his to enjoy. He kneeled behind you and kissed your ass cheek before making your lace panties slide off your legs. He kissed your thigh, going higher and higher until you felt him kissing your pussy, from behind. You let out a soft moan as he ran his tongue up and down your slit. He slid a finger inside you, feeling how wet you were.

- For me ? He asked playfully.

- I was actually waiting for someone else, you couldn’t help but say.

He stopped and you felt a slap on your butt. Of course you had to run your mouth. It was going to be the death of you. You silently cursed yourself for making him stop what he was doing. You wanted his mouth and fingers back to your pussy, in their rightful place. He got up and whispered in your ear.

- Am I not enough ? He asked teasingly. Do you want more ?

- Marshall, you moaned. Please.

- No, he chuckled. I’ll give you more.

He opened the drawer next to you, where you kept your toys, and got your butt plug. He put it in your mouth, telling you to suck on it. When it was wet enough, he inserted it in you, before resuming his initial position and sliding two fingers inside of your pussy. His tongue worked his magic on your clit and you tried hard not to make too much noise. The sensation of the plug, his fingers and his tongue at the same time was sending you in overdrive. It was delicious. You thought you were about to come in no time but he seemed to have other plans.

- I’m not done with you yet, baby, he said. You teased me, now it’s my turn to have fun.

He just loved driving you crazy and you knew he got off on seeing you wrestle with your pleasure. Not that you were going to complain, mind you. After years of dating selfish men when it came to sex, Marshall was a breath of fresh air. You knew you had married the right man but, in that moment, you wished he would just pound into you and make you come already. Patience was definitely not your strong suit, and especially not when you were ovulating.

He grabbed your hand and pushed you on the bed, ass up, face down. In no time, he got rid of his clothes and he did not even bother undressing you. He just pushed your panties aside before entering you. His hip thrusts were painfully slow and you knew it was on purpose. However, you were not having it, so you rocked your hips in turn, owing you another slap on the ass. However, he indulged you and started moving faster. He reached for the plug and moved it a bit, causing you to whimper in pleasure. You were on verge of orgasm when he stopped again and laid down on the bed.

- Get on top, he said.

- You’re killing me, you groaned.

- Told you I’d get my revenge, he chuckled. Now, get on top before I leave you high and dry.

You were pretty sure he wouldn’t do this to you, but you were so needy that you weren’t willing to risk it. You were craving for release and he knew it. This gave your husband way too much power over you. He was smirking I when you got on top and lowered yourself on his length, taking all of it. The presence of the plug in your butt maximised the sensations and Marshall felt even bigger than usual. You moaned as you started moving, closing your eyes and chasing your high. Your man seemed to enjoy the sensations, too. He was usually a rather quiet lover but you could hear him whimper.

- God you’re so tight, he moaned.

- I’m close, you warned.

- Come for me.

Your movements started to become sloppy, much to your frustration. You were on the edge but couldn’t quite get there. You looked at Marshall. You didn’t have to say a word for him to understand you needed a bit of help.

- I got you, he said.

He reached in your nightstand and grabbed your Satisfyer. He turned it on and put it on your clit. Your body’s response was immediate. You were shaking on top of him and your soaked sex was clenching around his. It was so strong that you let out cries of pleasure. Marshall captured your lips in an attempt to shut you up, but to no avail. Your nails were digging in his chest.

- Fuck, he said as you felt him twitch inside of you, his release being imminent.

There were too many sensations at once for you to be able to think straight and control yourself. Every inch of you was stimulated. You let out screams of pleasure as you reached orgasm. You could feel your husband try and cover your mouth but you instinctively bit his hand. He pulled you close to him and your teeth found his shoulder as you kept on having spasms. It felt like never-ending waves of pleasure. You weren’t even sure if that lasted seconds of hours. Time and space had become vague concepts. All you could hear were your own sounds.

Your head was buried in Marshall’s neck as you came to your senses, both of you panting.

- Holy shit, you managed to mumble.

You were taken out of your zone by Lily screaming. Parental instinct kicked in and you stared at each other. « On it », Marshall said before hurrying into some clothes and out of the room. You quickly got out of bed and got rid of the sextoys before getting dressed as well. You were about to check on Lily and Marshall when you heard a knock on the door.

- Mommy ? Your husband asked. Can we come in ?

- Yes, you said.

He opened the door and you could see he was carrying Lily who seemed terrified.

- Mommy ! She cried.

- What’s wrong, my love ? You asked. Did you have a nightmare ?

- I heard you scream ! I’m scared…

You threw a glance at Marshall who was trying to hide a smirk. You never realised you could be this loud.

- It’s alright, you said as you walked to them and kissed her head. Everything’s fine, baby.

- Why did you scream, mommy ? She asked nervously.

- I was… scared, you said, trying to come up with a quick excuse.

- Of what ?

- Of the monster under the bed, Marshall tentatively explained. But don’t worry, I got rid of him.

She looked anxiously at her Dad, who have her a reassuring smile. The mark your teeth had left on his shoulder caught her eye and she looked at him anxiously.

- Did the monster bite you ?! She asked.

- What ? Oh uh… yeah, he said. I had to wrestle him. Scratched my chest too. But you should see him. He looks worse.

You let out a giggle. Thank God for his brain and quick thinking. Your daughter looked at you.

- Are you alright Mommy ? Did the monster bite you too ? She asked nervously.

- He didn’t, you said reassuringly. Thank God for your Dad. He’s a hero.

- I am a hero, Marshall said proudly.

Lily hugged him tighter and gave him a peck on the cheek.

- Thank you for saving my Mommy from the monster, she said. I’m proud of you, Daddy.

- Of course, he said with a big smile. I’ll never let anything happen to Mommy, or to you, or your sisters.

- Mommy… did the Monster pee on your bed ? Lily suddenly asked.

Marshall and you glanced at the bed. There was a huge wet spot, caused by a mix of squirt and sweat. You couldn’t help but blush. You might have had your most powerful orgasm ever, tonight, but you were definitely paying for it. You were absolutely mortified, while Marshall was trying really hard not to cry from laughter.

- I guess he did, you said sheepishly. That’s how scary Dad is.

- Why don’t we go downstairs for some water ? Marshall asked Lily. So that Mommy can sort the mess the monster made in bed.

- Yes, you do that and I’ll join you, you said.

- You should also open your window, Mommy. The monster stinks, Lily pointed out.

She wasn’t wrong. The room reeked of smells typical of sex : sweat, squirt, pheromones and God knows what else. Marshall chuckled and winked at you before carrying her downstairs. You opened your bedroom window and changed the bedsheets. When you joined them in the kitchen, they were eating ice cream. You frowned, as they both knew what you thought of having sugary snacks before bed.

- We’re having a celebration, Marshall grinned. We’re celebrating the defeat of the scary monster under the bed.

- Oh, you giggled. In that case, I won’t say anything.

Lily was sitting on Marshall’s lap. She still seemed a little freaked out. He talked to her reassuringly as she asked some questions.

- I don’t want to go back to bed, she whined. What if the monster comes back ?

- I beat him real bad, you know ? He pointed out. I don’t think he will be bad anytime soon.

- What if his family comes back for revenge ? She asked nervously.

- I’ll wrestle each and everyone of them, he said. Come, I’ll tuck you in.

As he carried her up the stairs, she started hiccuping again. He stopped in his tracks and looked at you. Her cries were heartbreaking. You were a little mad at yourself for scaring her with your screams. You joined and hugged the two of them.

- Can I sleep with you tonight ? She asked.

- Of course, you said. But just for tonight, ok ?

The three of you settled in bed and you were ready to turn the lights out when she started asking about the scary monster again. Both you and your husband kept on trying to reassure her but it didn’t seem to work too well. Marshall sighed and got up. You wondered what he was up to, but you quickly understood as he came back with his huge lightsaber replica from Star Wars, which served as decor in his home office that also doubled as a man cave.

- I thought it was not supposed to be taken from the wall ? Lily pointed out.

- Yeah… except in case of monsters, duh, Marshall replied with a grin. If anyone comes in here, I promise you they won’t last long.

Your little girl nodded and settled between you and Marshall. You kissed her forehead as she held your hand tightly. Your husband smiled at you and mouthed « I love you » before turning the lights off.

In the morning, everything was back to normal, though Lily still mentioned the monster. You weren’t too sure how to deal with it and you were a bit scared you had unlocked a new trauma… you were anxiously staring at Marshall, who proved (once again) to be a quick thinker and the real genius in the house.

- How about we call Lainie and ask her if you can have a sleepover at her house tonight ? He asked Lily.

- Why ? She asked.

- Well, I think Mommy and I should check the whole house for monsters tonight, he said as he winked at you. Just in case, you know ?

Author’s Note : I hope you enjoyed this short story ❤️. I really like writing with these characters (I think Marshall and Lily are so cute) so if you have any requests for them, please keep them coming 💖.

[captain-pheonix]

Hello. I will call you Phoenix because that sounds very cool and you are cool and I platonically like you and enjoy your works.

Anyways I have come to request an all mercs + Pauling if you’re comfortable and want to write that. (If not maybe just Medic +whoever else you want to write for.) with a reader who has Schizophrenia? I’ve been going through some moments with it and the TF2 mercs are my comfort characters and your blog just feels nice.

If you aren’t comfortable with this feel free to block me or just ignore this ask entirely! Thank you very much!

A/n: GAHHH ILY PLATONICALLY TOO 🫶 ty for sending in a request, I’m so glad you enjoy my works! I try my best! I made sure I did some more extensive reasearch about schizophrenia/the real experience with it before I wrote this, please let me know if I should make some edits! (And other ppl reading this, also don’t be afraid to send an ask about making edits!)

Mercs + Pauling w/ reader w/ Schizophrenia (headcannons)

(Platonic or romantic!)

Pauling:

- will have some guilt about how she works all the time and can’t be there for you

- might send some gifts and call you in between jobs/travel, asking how you’ve been, asking if now was a good time or if you needed a distraction

- as soon as she gets the chance to come see you, she takes it

- asks over and over if you’re okay, because it’s been keeping her anxious on her jobs

- she’ll comfort you with sweet words over the phone if you call her for help

- reminds you to take your meds

Scout:

- absolutely clueless

- buys into stereotypes

- “the voices” type shit

- this guy is gonna need a thorough explanation as to how you feel all the time

- probably asks you how you’re feeling all the time too

- might be a little too quick to do his sneak-attack hugs

- likes hugging you a lot, so that could offer some grounding if you’re having delusions/hallucinations

- words of affirmation 10/10

- expect a lot of words…

- speaking of a lot of words, need an auditory distraction? The scout-o-matic is here! (Only $69.99)

Soldier:

- clueless prick

- thinks you’re some spy or something

- it might take the entirety of the team to convince him otherwise and try to explain it to him with your help

- might also buy into the stereotypes

- if you say you hear or see something that man is going to run around screaming with his shovel trying to chase them off for you (believes they’re real, but only you have magic powers to see them or something)

Medic:

- #1 meds administer

- does not buy into stereotypes, since he may know something about it

- (fw researching you heavy)

- dude is taking notes as you’re straight up not having it

- jk he goes to comfort you if he can after a bit

- you WILL be staying in the infirmary with him (sorry I don’t make the rules)

- will look into techniques to help you

Demo:

- you already know he’s offering alcohol to take the edge off/distract

- you have tried many times to tell him that that will not work

- if you had alcohol with your meds things would not end well

- offers himself as a napping space for being really exhausted (I’d take him up on that)

- he might already be passed out when you go to ask if you two can nap

- might wanna just scootch in there

Heavy:

- will protect you from the bad things (or at least try)

- if someone hurt pookie that’s no good it will not do

- offers protective bear hugs if you need something/somewhere/someone to cuddle up to and be distracted/grounded

Pyro:

- if you’re describing what you see to them, or have in the past, they might try to draw them with good old fashioned crayons and printer paper

- also schizophrenic 😭

- huge empathy from them

- but uhm they might also just straight up not know they’re schizophrenic, so bro could just be like “same”

- alright enough Gen z talk from me (there can never be enough)

- even if just hanging out with them makes you feel more comfortable

Sniper:

- probably feels bad for you

- opts to hang out indoors if hallucinations/delusions are not fun outside

- comforts you when you think you see or hear something

Spy:

- if he’s attempting to be subtle you might expect some noise cancelling headphones and other helpful tools show up at your door

- if you need a break from certain rooms he’s definitely gonna offer his smoking room

- gets you pill organizers for your meds if that’s something you struggle with

- offers lots of gentle comfort

- let’s be honest, this guy was clueless before you started talking to him about it and what it was

- now he just wants to offer help

Engie:

- probably pities you a bit

- gives you that Texan hospitality but may take a bit to understand you better

- will 10/10 make you something if there’s something he can make to help and if it’s possible

- gonna try everything in his power to make your life easier

————————

Hopefully I did okay 😭 ty for sending in your request!!

[papaya-queen]

Teenage Dirtbag babyy !! - F2/3/F1 academy grid

my first smau - please be kind I’m new with the tools

Y/N x Paul Aron - Ollie Bearman x Andrea Kimi Antonelli - Abbi Pulling x Doriane Pin

<3

Later - 3 am

Yourusername

Yourusername I’m just a teenage dirtbag babyyy

tagged : paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, racerbia and 6 others

User1 young drivers on social media are a blessing

User2 WAIT IS THAT OLLIE AND KIMI ?!!

            User3 AND DORIANE AND ABBI ?!!

maxverstappen1 stop posting on social media and answer our calls

User4 oh to be a part of that friend group …

<3

Racerbia

Racerbia never let Y/N plan the hangout

tagged : yourusername, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, paularon_ and 6 others

Yourusername hey !!! It was amazing !

User6 AFTER BEARNELLI AND PINING WE GOT PAULY/N ?!!!

Arvid.lindblad actually the best hangout of my life

            Yourusername finally who someone likes my hangout plan

            Landonorris wait until tomorrow morning

<3

The next day

Sunlight was already picking through the curtains when Y/N woke up. Her head was hurting, like someone was hitting it from inside. She tried to get herself up, but some weight was keeping her pinned against the mattress. She turned her head and saw a blond head she knew too well. Sure, her and Paul were big on physical touch but sleeping like this never happened. She carefully shifted to see the room without letting go of Paul’s embrace.

Y/N observed the room and the people in it. She could recognize Kimi and Ollie on the couch opposed to her, the older spooning the other. She had a moment of confusion, but she knew Kimi and Ollie had always been big on PDA even as friends. She kept looking around, checking if all her friends did make it back to the apartment. Arvid, Dino, Maya and Bianca were all sleeping on the floor with some blanket resting on them. And on the armchair, you could find Abbi and Doriane literally glued to each other, managing to fit in the tight chair. Y/N tried to get up to go eat something but all the moving and shifting in Paul’s arm woke him up.

“Hi princess!” he said with the sleepiest voice ever.

“Hi baby!” she responded, hugging him tighter.

Then she got up, after spending a few minutes convincing Paul to let her go. Y/N walked to the kitchen, open the door and faced Charles, Max, Oscar and Lewis. She brutally closed the door before reopening it. “Good morning, everybody!”

“Good afternoon actually!” Charles pointing the clock on the wall. He was right, it was indeed way past noon. 3pm actually.

“So, what’s the reason for the visit?” said Y/N trying to act cool in front of her 4 grid-dad.

“Humm…You don’t remember last night, do you?” Oscar asked.

“Euuh no …?” She responded.

“Well, we have a little explanation to do when everyone wakes up” Oscar sighed.

Max stood up and entered the living room to shout, “EVERYONE WAKES UP NOW!” The mass of teen made a groaning sound, some of them complaining about their head. There was also some confusion like Abbi and Dorianne who were looking at each other, not understanding the how and why they were like this. Same for Kimi and Ollie. After a couple minutes, the other older driver entered the room and told everyone to sit and listen to them.

“You kids are fucking mental; you should definitely know that! Before we start scolding each of you, do you actually remember what happened yesterday?” Charles was endorsing his role as the principal grid-dad of those kids.

“I remember that we met up here, we drank maybe one or two beers then we went to the bar.” said Kimi, rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, and Y/N picked up a worksite cone and put it on her head.” Gaby completed.

“I remember something about Ollie and Kimi, and Abbi and Dorianne, like they kissed or something like that” Arvid said earning some weird looks from the four.

Bianca finished their story and added “I remember Y/N got stuck on a tree, we called Oscar to help but Paul got her back before he arrived.”

“Well we have a base to work on” Max said pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s actually not that bad, I thought they would black out like completely.” said Lewis.

“So kids, you all got wasted at the bar and started doing random shit, like sitting on rooftops, stealing shopping carts, scooters and you also did some private things, you should check your insta especially Bianca and Y/N” Charles resumed the whole night and let all the teens check on their insta and realized all the things they did while he decided with the others grid-dads to post something to try to peace the situation.

<3

Charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 2 others

Charles_leclerc why did we have to adopt that many teens?

Tagged yourusername, paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 7 others

Olliebearman  we’re sorry dad 😖🥺

            Yourusername speak for yourself

User8 the dads regretting their choice 🤣😭

Paularon_ it hurts but it was amazing

User7 The Bearnelli and PaulY/N pic 🥹

Dinobeganovic_ never let me have alcohol ever again

            Maya_weug same

            Gabrieleminiofficial same

____

well that's it ! I'm kinda proud of this, i hope you're gonna love this as much as me ! byye :)

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Sick

Pairing: Dark Paul Atreides x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: You can’t travel if you’re sick - that’s what Paul is counting on.

WARNINGS: Intentional (light) Food Poisoning.

AN: I feel like it's not as dark as usual, but well. Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

Paul drags his hand through your forehead, a wrinkle appearing on his own.

“You don’t look any better, my love.” he says and you hold back a grimace. Truth be told, he’s right - you don’t feel any better. You’re burning with a horrible fever, feeling your stomach ache. 

But you need to get better. You have to. 

“I feel much better, Paul. I swear.” you lie, your voice hoarse and Paul only lifts his brows. 

“Love…I know how much being in your brother’s wedding meant to you, but I can’t allow you to go if you’re in this condition.” Paul drops his hand to your cheek, caressing it with the pad of his thumb.

You close your eyes, desolated. All those troublesome weeks of convincing Paul to let you attend your little brother’s wedding now proven useless, but it hurts less than the fact that you won’t see him on his happy day. 

“Love, don’t cry.” you don’t even realize tears started to roll down your face until Paul starts cleaning them with his fingers. 

“I really wanted to go.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “I can’t believe I’m gonna miss it.”

Paul only looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face and you feel uneasy.

As much as you love your husband, there are occasions where you sometimes feel something is wrong with him. Not that you’d ever publicly express that thought. 

“Maybe it’s for the best.” he speaks, his voice low but you still catch it.

Your mouth drops with shock, how can he say that? His eyes are focused on some distant point, a strange expression taking over his face.

“What do you mean? Paul?” your question seems to wake him from his trance, his face shifting back to normal. 

“The Harkonnens would be there and that would be a liability.” he explains and although his explanation makes sense, it doesn’t fully convince you. But you can’t do anything about it either. You’re stuck here. 

[jayduztumb1r]

ATTENTION DANONATION!!!

This is for all my Edward Nashton/The Batman 2022 fans specifically, because I have a BIG pet peeve for plot holes.

So is anyone else confused on WHEN The Batman takes place? Specifically, how OLD Edward is?? Because like. He’s not 40 😭

So. I know a lot of people think “oh! We see his driver’s license! And it says that he was born in 1984-“ NO! I simply thought that ORIGINALLY it was an Easter egg, because-

Edward’s birthday is 7/21/84. HOWEVER, Paul Dano’s birthday is 7/19/84. Just 2 days BEFORE Edward’s birthday. So I thought that was a simple Easter Egg

OR! That his license is correct, and that the movie took place in early 2010’s, however, according to the new show “The Penguin”, we see that on Alberto Falcone’s grave that he died in 2022. So we know that the movie AND show take place in 2022, But! I still don’t think there’s any way that Edward can be 40!

According to “Riddler, Year One” we see that Edward is like. no older than 10 when the Wayne’s die (which he know happens 20 years ago as the course of the movie happens).

like. HE IS YOUNG YOUNG. He is so young, that he has to look up at like a 90° angle to talk to the Wayne receptionist the night of the Wayne Murder.

So. By this. Edward SHOULD be in his LATE 20’s or EARLY 30’s. Not a 40 year old man. I just. Ughhh. Plot holes. My worst enemy..

Soooo. Anyone that has ANY sort of explanation, PLEASE send them my way. I would be happy to talk about Riddler anyway as well 😎

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

---

Chapter Eight: Home, Safe.

Now Playing: Everlong by Foo Fighters

Charlie was pissed when he found out that Bella had run off to Italy to save Edward. I couldn’t really blame him.

Jacob was pissed that she was running back to him after all the shit he put her through. The rest of the pack agreed, but I thought they were a little biased. I agreed with them, so I suppose I was biased, too.

I was grounded for not telling Charlie about Bella leaving, so for the entirety of Spring Break I was locked in the house until Charlie fell asleep. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? I sounded like my sister.

When Charlie fell asleep, I would slip through my window and into the woods. Jacob would be waiting for me in wolf form, letting me climb on his back so he could whisk me away to Emily’s. I would wait anxiously for a call from Bella, but all I got was radio silence.

She had left the first day of break. Three days later, and she still wasn’t back. I had no explanation, no texts, and no returned calls.

Sitting at the dinner table at Emily’s was comforting. We had two new additions to the pack; Seth and Leah Clearwater.

I didn’t think Leah was meant to turn. She was twenty one, older even than Sam was when he changed. The proximity to a vampire triggered it, though, just like everyone else.

Her brother, Seth, was forced to change before his body was ready. He was only fourteen, and he had been a scrawny kid, too. The stress of his father dying and sister turning had shoved him into his own change.

Jacob had told me that the first change was painful for everyone, but that it had especially hurt for Seth. His body had rapidly developed the fever, shooting his temperature up from ninety-eight degrees to one hundred and eight. He had passed out, his body trying to save him some of the pain as it tore itself apart during his transformation into a wolf.

Jared had whispered to me that Seth had broken or tore nearly everything in his body. They had to call his mother to come help set it all again so he would heal properly. I realized then that rapid healing didn’t always mean correct healing.

I snapped back into reality when I realized that everyone was looking at me. I cleared my throat, “Sorry, zoned out.”

Quil laughed, “You need some sleep, Y/n.”

“I’m well aware,” I sighed, reaching out to take a sip of my water. The phone rings and Paul answers it as he’s getting another burger. His eyes go wide.

“Y/n, it’s Bella!” He says, and I’m up as soon as he says my name. I clamor around the table, nearly tripping over Jared’s large furry ass as he lays on the floor in wolf form. I quickly regain my balance as Jacob hauls me back to my feet, the two of us anxious to hear my sister speak.

“Bella?” I ask, my heart beating in my chest, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m okay, we’re all okay, Y/n,” She says, her voice slightly raw. “We’re heading back to Forks now.”

I glance at Jacob, and he gives me a meaningful look.

Carefully, I ask, “You mean yourself and Alice, right?”

She hesitates, and I sigh loudly.

“Am I on speaker? Actually, no, he can hear me anyway, right?” I don’t wait for an answer, barreling on with my rant, “Edward, you sparkly leech, leave my sister the hell alone! She was finally happy and now you have to go and mess everything up again!”

“Y/n—” Bella tries, but I cut her off again.

“No! No, he needs to hear this!” I say vehemently, “He needs to know the hell he put you through while he was traveling around the world for funsies, and how he’s going to screw everything back up by coming back!”

I speak directly to Edward now, “I don’t care if you’re some immortal vampire, asshole, if you come back to Forks to fuck up my sister’s life again, I’m gonna make you wish you had never been reborn as a sickly reanimated corpse!”

There’s silence on the other end, and I know Bella’s hurt by my words. I don’t care. Let her be hurt by the truth and by the fact that neither Charlie nor I can stand that boy.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Alice says, “I’ll deliver Bella safe and sound to your home, Edward will stay away.”

“Thank you, Alice.” I say, my voice harsh but infinitely kinder to her, “Drive safe getting here. Bella; I love you, I’ll see you soon, and also you’re grounded. Charlie’s pissed.”

She sighs, mumbling, “Yeah, I figured. I love you too, Y/n, I’ll see you tonight.

The line goes dead and I hang the phone up.

“She’ll be back home tonight,” I announce, cheers ringing up. I continue, “She’s bringing that freak back with her.”

Boos and gags sound, and it makes me feel better. An idea floats in my mind, and I grin.

“Jake, I need you to go into the spare closet of the house and get the duffle bag of clothes we haven’t donated yet.” I order, and he salutes me, grinning, before turning and running.

“Why’re you grinning like that,” Embry complains, “It’s scaring the children.”

“I’m not scared!” Seth protests, but Embry shoots him a baffled look, “I’m children! I’m scared!”

I ignore them, “Sam, I need to borrow any shirts that don’t fit you.”

He eyes me, “What for?”

“To piss off Eddie boy, what else?” I ask, going into the laundry room and finding all the clothing scraps we haven’t been able to throw away yet. I put them in an old grocery bag and set them in my room. When I get back, Jacob is panting as he hands me the duffle. I grin, setting it down on the table and pulling out shirts.

I hand a pile of shirts to everyone with instructions to either hold them, wear them, or somehow make them smell like a werewolf. The biggest pile goes to Jacob, and I take the remaining pile and crouch beside Jared, still in wolf form.

“Hey buddy,” I say slyly, and he almost seems to laugh as he rolls over onto his back. I snicker as I rub several shirts over him, looking up when I hear laughter.

Quil has stuffed himself into one of my old shirts, and it looks like it’s about to burst at the seams. It fits him like a crop top, tight as a corset. I cackle as he pretends to model it, laughing harder when he moves a little too much and splits it in half.

---

When Bella comes back, I had already hidden the clothes around the house. In the vents, under her floor boards, under her mattress, in her pillows, behind the mirror in the bathroom, anywhere and everywhere I could think of was fair game. I was even wearing one of the shirts, just in case Edward made an appearance. I had a good deal of them hidden in my room, and Charlie’s. Again, just in case.

He didn’t come, thank god. Alice wrinkled her nose when she got here, but gave me a hug anyway. I hugged her tight, thanking her for keeping my sister safe.

Bella went and showered. I sat in her room and waited for her to come out. When she did, I saw how weary she looked. I didn’t ask questions, just wrapped her in a blanket and turned off the lights.

Charlie was furious the next morning, telling her she was grounded until she wasn’t anymore. She accepted it with grace.

---

Months passed. It was summer now.

I stormed into Emily’s house, throwing the door open as they all sat down for lunch.

“Woah, what’s got you bent out of shape?” Quill teased, and my scowl deepened.

“That stupid, idiotic girl is accepting him back into her life so easily!” I yell, flinging my hand out in a direction that isn’t necessary towards my house. Jacob dodges my arm easily, continuing to eat moodily.

I pitch my voice higher, “‘Oh Edward, my sickly Victorian child, I missed you so much! Please, make me your vampire child bride! I don’t want my soul anymore, I don’t care what this will do to my family, I—”

I take a shuddering breath, hot tears streaming down my face. Emily stands, coming to hug me tightly.

“Oh, Y/n,” she says quietly, rubbing my back.

“She’s so stupid,” I bite out, “Throwing away her life for—for him!”

Jacob had stopped eating, staring furiously at the table. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his body shaking. He looks up at me, his eyes blazing.

“Well then, I suppose that we’ll just have to try and be voices of reason.” He spits out, and I sniff, nodding.

“Besides Edward,” Sam said slowly, “Why does she want to become a vampire?”

I swipe at my eyes furiously, “Apparently Alice saw her as one in a vision. You know, the ones that are constantly subject to change.”

I know I sound bitter, but I feel betrayed. I don’t want to lose my sister.

---

Edward had appeared at Roy’s the day I started back. I scowled when I saw him, but he held up his hands.

“I’m here to tell you what Bella isn’t.” He said, and my attention was snagged.

I stared for a moment, then slid into the booth seat across from him. I had gotten off work already, so I had time.

“Bella wants to become a Vampire.” He said, and I nodded. “I don’t want that. I want her to remain human for as long as possible. I want her to stay human forever.”

His words surprised me. I had figured that he was the one to put ideas of vampirism into Bella’s head, but he was apparently thoroughly against it.

“She had my family vote.” My heart stopped in my chest. He continued, “Everyone voted yes aside from Rosalie and I. Neither of us want her to be changed.”

I clenched my hands into fists, “Why tell me this?”

He sighed, “Because I’m hoping that you can talk sense into her. I haven’t been able to, Rosalie can’t. You and the wolves are our last ditch effort to dissuade Bella from becoming a vampire.”

I was silent.

“What are you telling her to keep her from getting someone else to do it for her?” I asked, and he paused. I scoffed, “She wants you to do it, right?”

He nodded, and I continued, “She’s stubborn. If you won’t do it for her, she’ll get someone else to. My bet’s on Alice.”

He let out an odd sort of snarling sound, vaguely similar to one of the snorting sounds that the guys would make in wolf form when they would fight playfully. This was out of frustration, though.

“Tell her something, anything that would keep her from getting someone else to turn her,” I begged, “Buy time, and I’ll change her mind.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“I’ll do my best.” He said quietly, looking almost defeated.

He got up to leave, but I grabbed his arm.

I flinched, so used to feeling higher temperatures that it was a momentary shock to feel his frozen skin.

“Give me your number. We’ll keep each other updated so Bella can’t hide or lie.” He nodded, handing me his cell. I punched in my number, texted myself so I had his, and nodded.

“I still hate you.” I told him, “But I hate you less for this.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then let out a breathy laugh.

“I’ll take what I can get, I suppose.” He said, then added, “I did think I was doing the right thing, leaving her. I thought she would be better off.”

“She was.” I tell him, adding, “But there’s nothing we can do about that now.”

---

Ok!! Short chapter to transition between New Moon and Eclipse! I do plan to give reader some more clarity on Edward’s feelings btw bc I knowwweww he was pressed about Bella wanting to be turned.

Anyway, I hope yall enjoyed ☺️

[mister-mickey]

ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AUU!!!!!

I’ve been chatting about this with people on discord and I’ve had so much fun doodling these lol

Doodles aren’t that gory, but the relationship are def a little fucked up sometimes, but you never know what people are sensitive to so everything is under the cut!

Okay so basic explanation

Nobody (except siblings and Paul and Darry) knows each other. They’re all total strangers, I feel like I should get that out of the way

The apocalypse starts in 1964 (that way the characters are their canon ages when the plot really happens)

The Curtis family is a normal family doing fine until the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Mr and Mrs Curtis are some of the first casualties (Darry had to put them down after they got bitten and turned)

The brothers decide to leave Tulsa and go somewhere less populated, but while they do that, they run into Paul. Only Darry likes Paul, but they’re all relieved to see someone they know (who isn’t eating people) so they let him come with them

The only problem is that after a few months, Paul decides that with the government gone and everything, he can do whatever he wants. So he kidnaps Darry and runs away, leaving pony and soda alone.

Stressful situation, I know. They’re looking for Darry, but get separated at some point. Now they have to focus on not just finding Darry, but each other as well.

At this point it’s been about a year since the apocalypse started

Pony runs into Dallas and Johnny, who met each other like a month before. He gets taken in by them (they’re all wearing bucks old clothes, because dally was living with Buck when this all started. Buck died) and they’re fighting zombies and trying to survive together

Soda meets Steve and twobit, who are eager to have more people join their ranks. Twobit’s mother and sister died, and Steve’s dad abandoned him at the start of the apocalypse. So they’re all alone with each other.

Darry is where it gets interesting. He’s living with Paul and can’t really escape becuase he doesn’t actually know where he would even go. He doesn’t know where pony and soda are so he’s just hoping to come across them. But he knows it’s important to avoid being alone so he stays with Paul, even if Paul is kind of losing it.

Paul is getting annoyed because Darry is being lame (because he misses his brothers obviously)

Which is when they meet curly. Curly, Tim, and Angela were all together at the start of the apocalypse, but Tim and Angela got turned a few weeks in. Curly managed to wrap their hands and mouths so they couldn’t attack him and now he gets to keep his older siblings with him! Yay! (This also keeps other zombies from eating him, because he smells like death) curly is a little bit crazy, he’s been talking only to Tim and Angela for a year. He knows they don’t understand or care, but he’s convinced himself that they do

It doesn’t matter in the end because he meets Darry and Paul. They are freaked out by him and his zombies, but Darry makes Paul let curly stay with them (because Darry sees pony and soda on curly, and he can’t bear to let some kid be alone in all of this, even if he is a freak with two zombies)

Eventually Paul comes around. On his own terms. Which means that he kills tim and Angela and kidnaps curly to create a family with Darry (to try and keep Darry from missing long and soda) curly is traumatized and angry (and a million other things ofc) and Darry is pissed, but Paul is very pleased with himself.

Anyway, there’s more but it isn’t super developed. If you want to know more (or drop suggestions or doodle ideas) send asks ❤️❤️

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Don Moynihan at Can We Still Govern?:

Imagine being an employee so toxic that you were fired by a guy who boasted to his co-workers about beating a dog to death with a shovel. Now imagine that you are still less sketchy than the guy using the dating app he started to solicit 18 year old girls, offering them free trips to LA to “hook up.” What do these people have in common? They are key figures in Trump’s effort to redesign the federal public sector. The guys who should trigger calls to HR want to become the HR system for government.

I am speaking of Paul Dans, the head of Project 2025 until he exited in July, John McEntee, who led the screening of Republican political appointees for both Trump and Project 2025, and Kevin Roberts, the President of the Heritage Foundation overseeing Project 2025. Both Dans and McEntee are people who would not have held any positions of power in a normal presidential administration. McEntee was kicked out of the White House when he failed a security check due to frequent gambling. He had no obvious qualifications apart from being the guy who carried Trump’s bag and being unswervingly loyal to Trump. But when Trump brought him back to the White House, he ordered that McEntee also be put in charge of the enormously important Presidential Personnel Office.

One of Tump’s own appointees voiced concerns about McEntee, saying “Mr. President, I have never said no to anything you’ve asked me to do, but I am asking you to please reconsider this. I don’t think it is a good idea.” Trump grew apoplectic: “You people never fucking listen to me! You’re going to fucking do what I tell you to do.” Paul Dans was another Trump loyalist, one who struggled to find a place in the administration despite volunteering on the Trump campaign. He had no relevant experience in government, and had failed to make partner in an unremarkable legal career. Despite his lack of qualifications, Dans had a different explanation, which was that he was one of a group of “people getting sandbagged because somebody thought that they were too ‘America First’-y or too Trumpist.” He finally broke into government with a position in HUD thanks to a Federalist Society connection with James Bacon, a college student working for Ben Carson. Bacon would later get recruited by McEntee to join him at the Presidential Personnel Office, and in turn brought Dans on board.

“Toxic and Abusive Behavior”

From the Presidential Personnel Office, Dans star finally rose. He was deployed to the Office of Personnel Management, which oversees the career civil service. At OPM he championed Schedule F, the directive that would allow appointees like Dans to fire long-time career public servants. The Director of OPM resigned when she was told by McEntee that she now answered to Dans, who became the de facto leader of the agency. Dans’ inexperience with government showed. Anytime he encountered a delay he assumed it was deliberate: “He questioned everything from the point of view that there was a conspiracy against him and the president,” said a fellow Republican appointee. He would lose his temper and “just throw bombs into senior staff meetings” making him an intimidating figure. The pattern of abusive workplace behavior did not stop him from being handed the plum assignment of leading Project 2025. And when Dans exited in late July, Heritage praised him, with Kevin Roberts posting that Dans “built the project from scratch and bravely led this endeavor over the last two years.” New reporting paints a darker story. Dans was fired for being a toxic colleague. He yelled and swore at co-workers, demeaning them. Colleagues said that Dans “always struggled to maintain collegiality” and described “toxic and abusive behavior” especially toward female colleagues. He failed to listen to repeated warnings, including from Roberts, to behave professionally. After an internal investigation, he was fired for what the Heritage Foundation now acknowledges was “professional misconduct and mistreatment of colleagues.”

The “Deputy President”

When the Trump administration ended, McEntee could have followed the route of other ex-Trumpers and joined a think tank. While he would eventually return to this world via Project 2025, his priorities were elsewhere. With backing from the tech billionaire and Trump/Vance supporter Peter Thiel, McEntee launched a dating app aimed at conservatives, called “The Right Stuff.” In explaining his motivation for creating the app, McEntee wrote: “Washington, D.C. is a very liberal city, and I'm super conservative. How could I find people who had the same values as me? I found I couldn't really use the apps because it was tough to find someone on there with similar opinions…Personally, I have never and would never date anyone who doesn't share the same political views as me.” McEntee’s app received mixed reviews. Users complained about the Ashley Madisonesque lack of women on the site.

[...]

The Dog Killer in Charge

Overseeing all of this is the Heritage Foundation President Kevin Roberts. And Roberts has his own problems: multiple former colleagues said he had boasted about killing a neighbor’s dog with a shovel. The timing is bad, of course, since a key policy message of Trump and JD Vance (who wrote the foreword for Robert’s new book), is that that it is immigrants are killing beloved pets. Instead, it seems to be the person in charge of the governing blueprint that Trump keeps trying to distance himself from. While Roberts deserves some credit for firing Dans, the anonymous Heritage leaks disparaging Dans appear to have come after he demanded a $3.1 million severance package, which Heritage rebuffed. At the same time, Heritage has nothing to say about their other Project 2025 employee, McEntee. While it might denounce toxic behavior in their workplace, predatory behavior by their employees is fine. Dans is a person that Heritage would not employ because of his toxic behavior. But they think his ideas are appropriate for massively restructuring the federal personnel system so that people like Dans and McEntee can fire whoever they want. McEntee is not someone you would want anywhere near younger women. But he is the person that both Trump and Heritage put in charge of recruiting the next generation of appointees.

Don Moynihan wrote another solid column on how three toxic men who seek to control the federal civil service sector should Donald Trump get back in.

[jolieblack]

Jolie’s notes on

The Lion’s Mane (Sherlock & co podcast)

Oh, this case made me so happy. 🦁🪼⛴️

Sweet domesticity in Baker Street, then a client ringing the bell bringing a dramatic case… This is another ACD story with quite striking hidden horror. You don’t really think much about the state of the body when you read it, but when you really start thinking about it, it is horrific. And off they go, our heroes, to solve another mystery and right another wrong.

Heroes with a pension plan, of course. Because of course Mariana would have set that up for them all. I love how this show keeps finding modern ways of showing how well Mrs Hudson cares for those two crazy boys.

Heroes who drink tea with marshmallows, too. Sherlock being a big petulant child about those cracked me up.

Loved Maud‘s early reference to tentacles, too. 🦑

Archie being able to sense when people are sad. 🥹

The non-consensual bathroom sharing made me laugh, too, but can people PLEASE just stop making fun of men who sit down to wee? Housewives and cleaning staff all over the world would be so much happier if all men just did.

"It‘s a trolley stuck in a wall." 😂 Trust Jonk to turn absolutely everything into a rant against the rich. 😝

And then they’re off.

Loved this modern version of "Holmes and Watson get on another train for a case", and John waxing poetic about the countryside by night. I have looked out of the window of a night train at the starry sky in the not too distant past myself, so this scene struck a particular chord. But I‘d just love to see more of this reflective, quiet John. He hides him too well usually.

And talking of beautiful, evocative mental images, the moment when Fjara rises out of the sea mist gave me absolute goosebumps. A sight that makes even Sherlock Holmes go "oh my word" must be a sight indeed. And all that with just voices and music. Amazing work.

I also loved how the mythical aspect kinda crept in slowly but unstoppably, and I spent the longest time wondering why Maud had mentioned none of it. In retrospect, of course there was zero reason why she would have. I kinda forgot that Sherlock Holmes stories love playing with our fears of the supernatural, only to supply a completely natural explanation in the end. But that’s quite an achievement in itself! Well played, Joel.

I’m quite happy with the solution as such, too. The original story has always been a little fantastical, that the waters of the British Channel should contain one single organism who could inflict such damage on a human being. But the combination of Lion’s Mane burns, chemical burns, previous fistfight with probably head trauma and quite possibly also a touch of the Martini effect together could totally do it. I’m glad Ian Murdoch survived, btw, I thought he was going to be the third corpse.

I also really appreciated the Lion/Liona throwback to Rache/Rachel in Study in Pink (which seems to confirm to me that we have seen Study in Pink already and it won’t come back).

And the accents! I loooooved the accents. I think they’re a major part of the reason why I listened to this case three or four times before I even managed to pause the flow to take these notes.

Jonk was really taking cringe to a whole new level in his interactions with the locals, though. This is really a part of Watson’s character that they entirely made up for this adaptation and while Paul plays it to perfection, it never sits quite right with me. I’m glad John was his kind and sensitive self with Maud though.

Sherlock wading in rock pools with his trousers rolled up is a mental image that will stay with me for a long while. Check out this lovely art by @noodles-and-tea

"Sexy murderous sea demons?" - "Very, very unlikely." 😂

"We‘re cutting the engine *and* the conversation." & "You are not a priority." 😂

Poor John, nobody wants to hold his hand…

THE JELLYFISH

There’s a reason why the scene with the submarine submersible has inspired a lot of fantastic fanart. I’ll just let these speak for themselves:

Behold the Lion’s Mane by @starfruitsomething

Lion’s Mane by @abstractfrog

The Lion’s Mane Part 3 by @sealbug

The Lion’s Mane by @reibub

Lion’s Mane Comic by @abstractfrog

I’m so glad they went and found Fitzi McPherson in the end, too. I didn’t expect that and it was a lovely touch.

I may also be a tiny bit obsessed with Sherlock competently handling boats. Very happy to see this several times in this story.

All in all, pure enjoyment this time around. Story, atmosphere, humour, acting, straight As all around for the entire team. More, please!

[heaventonightmp3]

my sister and i did acid and created an entire fictional war with a bunch of musicians but they’re all rabbits. and basically there’s the friendly rabbits vs the evil rabbits and the friendly rabbits are led by their patron saint, jimi hendrix and the evil rabbits are led by eric clapton. and the rankings go like

friendly rabbits:

- chosen one: serj tankian (daron malakian is his messenger)

- military leader: lemmy (w/ vic rattlehead as 2nd in command)

- bob dylan (minister of propaganda)

- nick mason (prime minister)

evil rabbits:

- chosen one: jimmy page (robert plant as his messenger)

- military leader: lars ulrich’s lazy ass (w/ the fuckin disturbed mascot as 2nd in command)

- steve o (minister of propaganda)

- jon bon jovi (prime minister)

and a really essential thing about the war is symmetry, so every friendly rabbit has an evil counterpart. for example:

joey ramone vs billie joe armstrong (punk rabbits)

paul vs john (mclennon rabbits)

john frusciante vs flea (rchp rabbits)

and the friendly rabbits live in the lab from the korn music video while the evil rabbits live in the black hole sun music video.

and there’s over 200 names in this war and they’ve all been assigned a role (ie. army, navy, air force, medical, weapons testing) and some of them have even won medals of honour for their work. and each role was chosen very specifically and has an in-depth explanation

also keith richards is the neutral force watching down on everyone but he’s not a rabbit he’s just keith.

this is also only like 1/8th of the lore. i have so many notes and spreadsheets dedicated to this like i genuinely don’t think i’ve ever put this much effort into anything. and this might be a sign that i finally lost it lmaooo

comment to find out if your pookie is evil or friendly rabbit

[crepesuzette2023]

I’m really interested that you think John was in love with Brian too! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone suggest that before.

Hi Anon, For context, I assume you're referring to my tags on this post (Klaus Voormann on Paul's reaction to John and Brian and Barcelona, as observed first-hand by Klaus on Tenerife).

So, when I read the words Brian Epstein was in love with John, so Paul felt isolated, it got me thinking that first, it's always Brian being in love with John that's mentioned, never John's feelings for Brian. And it's not as if there's nothing there: John himself referred to his relationship with Brian, specifically during Barcelona, as an unconsummated, intense almost-love-relationship, with Brian's open gay identity as the main source of attraction. Does that mean John was pining for Brian and writing letters and leaning over the piano while looking at him over his shoulder? Probably not (though, who knows), but I have no doubt John was was fascinated by and infatuated with Brian. Lewisohn mentions this in some detail; John makes a point of clarifying that Brian was in love with *him*, actually.

(I also wrote something here about why the "John was vetting Brian as a manager" and "casting couch" scenarios don't do it for me as explanations for John agreeing, after having declined similar offers before, to accompany Brian to Barcelona in '63.)

[I also wanted to write: what would piss off Paul more: Another man being in love with John, or John being reciprocally in love with another man? Option 2, please! Q.E.D.! But: see below.]

About that Klaus quote in general.

I think Klaus was much smarter as an artist than he was in his words, in some ways. Paul had many reasons to be annoyed by "Barcelona": it split the band, it introduced imbalance into Lennon/McCartney, maybe he was concerned people would 'talk', which they did, and yeah, maybe he doubted Brian's good sense, and was worried about his own standing with their manager.

And on top of that, maybe, he was jealous of John's feelings for Brian, and Brian's for John, and tired of the ongoing triangulation games.

Who knows?

But what I don't believe is that their emotional snapshot during Barcelona held true for the entire lifespan of the Beatles. Paul didn't 'always' feel the outsider within the band, come onnn! And Brian's good friend Nat Weiss said Brian and Paul got on really well in the end — etc. —

The truth is probably as haunting and layered and rich in details as Klaus's drawings! :-)

Thanks for listening if you're still there.

[purplelupins]

Lamb

Midnight Mass

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Father John Pruitt/Father Paul Hill x Fem! Reader

Word count: 10k

Summery: An entire life of being a good girl was a difficult cross to carry...especially in a tiny town with 127 residents on a good day. You kept the town fed and spirits as high as you could, but when a new face steps off the afternoon Breeze, things around you start to change; you don't even know you're in the eye of the storm.

Warnings: nsfw, reader is religious, religious symbolism, ideology, explanations and general conversations of religion, age gap (like this man is 80 technically and he watched reader grow up, and can remember reader as a little girl so if that’s creepy to you then go no further), stalking, manipulation, murder (hello have you seen the show?), drinking of blood, hunting of a person, grief, ANGST, description of animal death, reader is described as blushing, character death, non consensual help showering, guilt and god maybe more but I think that’s it…this is not really a fix it fic

Notes: I’m sorry

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sleep had evidently taken you during the night, though you couldn’t recall when. Sometime between you telling yourself it would all be alright, and weeping for God’s grace. Now as you opened your eyes, you half wished you hadn’t. You wished you had stayed asleep and let this tumultuous time crest over you.

They say God gives his hardest battles to his best soldiers.

You did not want to be one of his best soldiers that day.

You wanted there to have been no oil spill and for the Monsignor to come back and for Leezas accident to have never happened and for Joe to be sober and you wished you had a crush on someone when you were a teenager and you wished the world was kinder-

You wished so many things.

You only managed to pull yourself up from bed when your stomach curled painfully and begged for food at around 7:30am. You begrudgingly put your kettle on the stove, and stared out your front window.

A watched pot never boils, your mother used to say.

Does if you stare long enough, your dad would reply.

You face fell as you watched a stray leaf float past your window. Your eyes glazed over as you waited, and only refocused when there was more than just a leaf going past your window.

Erin Greene slowly walked past your house, white as a sheet, and you found yourself transfixed by her. She looked…disturbed. You had heard that she had gone to the mainland for tests, and you wondered if there was a complication with her pregnancy. Perhaps she had started taking morning walks to help…

It took a moment for you to decide to open your front door, and when you did she didn’t turn around. She was further away now, and you wanted to shout to her and ask her in for a coffee, but it was early, and you didn’t want to wake your neighbours.

You went to turn back inside- your kettle starting to whistle. But something lurched inside you then. This wasn’t you. The you that you knew would run out after her friend and check on her.

Without another thought, you were down your steps in a second and running down the road after her.

“Erin! Hey Erin!” You called to her.

Erin stopped and spun on you- her eyes red.

You were panting once you stopped, and you waited for her to say something, but went she didn’t you did. “Sorry I just…I’m making some coffee an-“

You were cut off by her wrapping her arms around you and hugging you close. You slowly returned it, rubbing her back. You didn’t know Erin very well outside of Mass or the odd conversation, but you almost felt a shock zap you when she held you. Like you connected to her somehow.

“Erin are you alrig-“

“Don’t lose yourself…” she said as she pulled away.

You stared at her and laughed nervously when she remained serious, “I don’t…what’s going on?” You asked. But when you saw that deep sorrow in her eyes, you stopped looking for a reason.

She shook her head. And sucked in a breath as she released you, “You’re smart. And you’re good. Don’t lose that. You have your life ahead of you.” She repeated, then squeezed your arms and left you there in the morning air with only your whistling kettle in your ears.

You didn’t remember eating, or drinking your coffee for that matter; but your sink full of dishes said otherwise. Erin had startled you terribly. While you could have chalked up her behaviour to her pregnancy, somehow you felt she was talking about something else entirely. It was as if she had embodied all the turmoil you had been experiencing, and had shown it to you.

Did she feel the same discomfort you had? Was this something not unique to you?

You downed a few more cups of warm drinks as you dwelled and thought. You thought about calling your family on the mainland…but they were always so busy. Instead, you sat and pulled the book you had borrowed from the Father and began to read it again. You found you had a difficult time keeping up with the book itself; the sequence of a man’s decent into Hell. It was morbid though fascinating to read…almost like a train wreck that you couldn’t look away from.

Eventually, you snapped the book shut and set it down beside you.

You didn’t know how to feel about it, and you didn’t like how heavy it weighed on your heart. Like somehow it felt all too real.

It was only when the old streetlights outside your house started to flicker on that you realized how late it had gotten. Still a few hours left before Mass. You reached for a record to play, and stared at the one closest to you. The same one you had listened to the night before the Crock-potluck.

You berated yourself for associating Father Hill with the record, but it had been such a significant night that it was difficult not to.

You mindlessly played it, and as the sound filled your home, you listened. Calm began to come over you, though you weren’t certain you liked that. Sure it was an old family record from the 90’s, and brought some nostalgia, but you didn’t find yourself thinking of your family.

You thought of how Father Hill had taken your sorrows and given them back in the form of healing. How he had taken your hand and walked you through your first confession in years. How he hadn’t judged you. How welcomed you felt.

Renewed.

How he had single-handedly entered your life and begun to mend it with such precision. As if he knew what you needed.

By the late evening you had eaten dinner and washed your dishes, brushed your hair and wrapped a warm cardigan over your spring dress. You admittedly looked a little less pristine than usual, but you tried to not let it bother you.

A breeze crept up your thighs as you began down your front steps, and you faltered for a moment. You opted instead to hop on your bike, and began pedalling down the road. Somehow you felt more at ease the faster you went, though you just assumed it was because it meant you would be outside in the cold less.

You greeted a few people as you went, and found yourself starting to calm down the closer you grew to St. Patrick’s. Then as you created the hill, you sighed in slight relief; as you slowed your pace to the side of the building, you caught the eye of Father Hill as he welcomed his parish inside as he almost always did. You sent him a small wave as you stepped off your bicycle and leaned it against the church.

“Evening Father Hill.” You said, coming up to the steps.

John smiled at you. You looked so fresh with your rosy cheeks and less neat hair.

“How are you, little one?” He asked you, focus purely on you for a moment as Bev welcomed the others who passed.

The endearment caught you off guard. More than off guard. It must have been a coincidence, but that was what Monsignor Pruitt used to call you.

You shifted a little but started to make your way past him, “I’m doing well, thank you Father. I hope you’ve been feeling alright.” You put a small smile on, though your stomach was still tight.

“Feeling even better now.” Father Hill said- the crows feet around his eyes deepening.

You nodded and quickly made your way up the stairs and inside the church to your spot on your pew. In some way it felt as if you were a little outside your body; your ears rang and you found your eyes flickering over the heads and faces around you. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and you had hoped it would pass when Father Hill started speaking, but it didn’t.

“I hope these last 39 days have been rewarding and regenerative for you all. We are here on the eve of Easter…we have all come so far together this year. When I first come here to this community, I didn’t see a failed island, no…no I saw what I know God sees and that is an island on its way to rebirth. Each and everyone of you have helped it get there too. You think you’re insignificant or that you’re just small cogs in a large machine, but you’re all so much more. You are representatives of Gods glory.” Father Hill started. You had noticed that for a few days now, his passion for his sermons had returned tenfold. And while his words still moved you, you couldn’t shake that feeling of disconnect. You felt like such an outsider that evening, and you almost checked around you to see if you had done something different.

While you tried to ground yourself, you stared at the wooden crucification of Jesus behind Father Hill as he spoke, and at some point your eyes blurred and for a moment you swore the idol and the man were one and the same. The visual was enough to make you frightened.

You looked away quickly, and focused instead on your hands. You looked at each line and your knuckles and picked at your nails and traced the veins.

Before you knew it, Mass was finishing, and you found yourself a little shaken. More than a little. You rarely tuned out a service, but the anxiety that curled in your muscles refused to leave you.

Shame prickled inside you, but somehow your trepidation overwhelmed it. You wanted to leave. Quickly.

You didn’t wait to speak to anyone that night, and certainly not Father Hill. If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t know what to feel towards that church or preacher anymore. All you knew was that you didn’t feel like yourself, and that the priest only seemed to enhance that.

You heard a few people call your name as you hurried outside, and as you were just about to grab your bike, there was one voice in particular that made your steps stutter.

But still you didn’t turn back, and only got onto your bike faster, and sped away until you were racing home like the Devil himself was licking your heels.

John Pruitt stood on the top step to bid his parish a good night, but as he stepped out into the cool air, he noticed one had already slipped by.

He called your name, and could hear your heart rate spike for a moment. He could hear you quicken your pace too. You were running from him.

Guilt and worry began to fill him. This was his fault entirely- he had been lacking in his guidance for you. You hadn’t had enough of the sacrament, and you were lost. That blood in your veins was a shadow of what you deserved.

John made up his mind. You would have the gift even if he had to give it to you himself.

No lamb left behind.

In the morning, you stared at the photo of you on Easter from when you were a child. The same one Father Hill had pointed out. Your hair in little pigtails and a carefree smile…that little dress that made you look like a doll.

Now as you stood there you were far from smiling, and instead found yourself fighting the nausea that stirred in your stomach.

In your hands was the book Father Hill had given you.

Dante’s Inferno.

You hadn’t finished it, and it didn’t feel right of you to have it. It didn’t feel right for you to finish it too. Like you shouldn’t know how it ends. The more you thought about it, the more you realised the same applied to your own future. You had no inkling as to where it would end up. At one time not too long ago you might have been fairly confident that you knew where you were headed or what you might do with your life, but now you found yourself unable to trust your own judgement. When had you lost your moral compass?

You swallowed and steadied yourself. Back to the task at hand.

You stepped out your door, book in hand, and began making your way through town to the rectory of St. Patrick’s. You told yourself you were just going to leave the book on the porch and walk away. No knocking, no visit, just simple and quick.

A few people stopped you on your walk to ask if you had been alright after last night. “You left in such a hurry after Mass, honey, just wanted to make sure if you were okay.” They would say.

And you were so well practiced with your sweet smile and unbothered tone that of course they believed you when you told them you thought you had left your oven on and raced home. You even earned a laugh from one of them.

You wished you could laugh as easily as them. Smile as easily. You wished you weren’t burdened with this disturbance.

In an attempt to make yourself feel stronger, you tried to put your shoulders back, and began to walk up the hill, but the closer you got, the smaller you felt. You felt very much like a child going to the principal’s office.

That dread that had been festering in your nerves peaked as your eyes fell upon the rectory. The lights were on. Somehow that made everything feel so much more difficult. Your nerves vibrated and seemed to shake in tandem with your hands.

You sucked in a breath, and held it as you pushed yourself to walk down the side of the church and to the small house. Quickly, and as quietly as you could. Things almost seemed hopeful as you went to place the book down on the porch, but just as you bent, the door opened, and you jumped.

You were frozen in place.

“Ah, Y/n. Can we help you?” Inside, you could see Bev was sat at Father Hills desk, while Wade stood, Dolly sat and Sturge held the door open. Father Hill was standing by his bookcase. The same one he had retrieved the book you held from.

You swallowed but tried to muster up that practiced smile to seem apologetic.

“So-sorry, I’m um…I just wanted to return this book to Father Hill.” You held the book up, and went to give it to Sturge, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Bev went to speak again, “Oh that’s just fine, Sturge why don’t you take the bo-“

“Please, you’re welcome to stay,” Father Hill cut her off.

You startled again by the sound of his voice. He was watching you. Had his eyes gotten darker? “…I think we were just finishing up.” He added.

Bev smiled tightly.

You didn’t.

“Oh that’s alright, I’m sure you’re all very busy with tonight and the sheriff is actually expecting me to talk abou-“ you tried, almost looking helplessly at Sturge and Dolly as they started to file out past you. You had hoped that using Hassan would gain you some credibility, though it seemed to fall upon deaf ears.

“Please…” The Father said again, now coming closer as he followed the group, though he stopped just at the edge of the couch, “I’d like to know what you thought.” He added with a small, quick smile that showed his teeth.

John didn’t like you avoiding him. He had nothing notable against the sheriff, but somehow you wanting to prioritize a meeting with the other person irked him when you had clearly walked across the island to see him. It was as if you were crying out for help, but refusing to let yourself follow through…

Do not deny yourself my lamb…let me be your guide…let me help you.

You felt your fingers go numb and your mind start to go fuzzy as Bev slipped past you and left you alone. That was the last thing you had wanted to happen.

You gaze was fixed on the older man before you, and he grinned and beckoned you inside. A chill ran down your spine. At one time he had been a beacon, but now you weren’t so certain. It was as if he knew you weren’t yourself. Like he knew you were having doubts.

“Come in.” He said, and gestured to the chair that Dolly had sat in.

You stood in the doorway.

John could almost taste your fear. He was losing you. Fast. He needed to help you find your way back to him.

“R-really it’s okay, Father…” you tried again, weakly.

“I insist.” He replied.

You sucked in a breath, and took the step inside. You knew you shouldn’t, and your gut screamed at you to leave.

You closed the door, and timidly walked further inside.

With the door shut, John walked over to you and placed a hand on your back to guide you to sit at the desk there he sat across from you.

“I didn’t finish it, Father.” You said honestly. You felt guilty for the look of surprise on his handsome face.

He blinked and nodded, “It’s a difficult read.”

You placed the book on the table in front of you, and slowly looked up at him. It was strange to not try and fill the silence, but you truly didn’t know what to say.

You’re scaring me, Father

I’m afraid.

Of course you wouldn’t say that to him but that was all you could think of.

“I want to apologise.”

You looked up at him. You hadn’t been expecting that.

“I- forgive me…I want to apologise for not being the guide you need. My health has been unpredictable for a while, and I haven’t been there. For you, and for many others.” He said gently, leaning forward to fold his hands on the desk.

You swallowed, “That’s alright, Father.”

He stared back at you then, thinking. Contemplating.

“How are you?” He asked after a moment of studying you.

He knows.

You clenched your hand.

“I’m alright, Father.” You whispered, not that you meant to.

“Are you?” He asked. The Father refused to take his eyes off of you.

You forced that sweet smile you had, and nodded, “Definitely.”

He knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows…

You put your hands into your lap to hide how you shook.

“Good.” Father Hill said plainly, “Off you go then…big night tonight.” He smiled a little.

You nodded and stood up a little too quickly, “Yes- yes for sure. Have a good day, Father.” You already started backing away, and he stood to follow you. You didn’t dare look away from him or turn your back on him…and you didn’t know why.

“See you tonight.” John called to you as you turned the door nob. He cursed his gift in that moment. How he couldn’t walk you out…just have a little more time to calm your anxious state.

You didn’t say anything, though you did nod and smile tightly as you opened the door.

You were out the door and down the steps and walking briskly away before the Father could manage to say anything else. The door barely clicked shut from how fast you left. You kept your head down and continued that way until you were home.

The tremor in your hands hadn’t stopped. You clenched and unclenched them in an attempt to remedy it but nothing seemed to stop it. You were troubled…so troubled.

You weren’t even certain if you wanted to go to the vigil anymore. All you wanted was for that feeling to go away.

But this was Lent.

This was Easter.

It was just an evening in the church, then after that you could keep your interactions with Father Hill short, and simple until he left and Monsignor Pruitt returned.

Your gut jolted at the thought of the younger pastor staying indefinitely.

No…no Father Pruitt is on the mainland…for…months.

You pulled your knees to your chest and gripped your rosary as the night grew darker. The shadows began to envelop you in their grasp, and you found you had never missed the sunlight so much before. The power had stopped working an hour ago, and you found yourself nervous to wonder why. Now the darkness around you seemed to weigh down on you. You muttered prayer after prayer as you contemplated going, but then suddenly you stopped.

The faint sound of singing reached your ears, and you walked to your bedroom window to look down. Sure enough, there were dozens of little lights being held by islanders as they sang their way through the roads. You turned away, and looked down at the rosary in your hand; it had cut you. You pursed your lips, then sucked in a breath, and descended your stairs to the main floor and grabbed a sweater before walking quietly out your door. Beverly was stood just beyond your gate, and she paused when you caught her eye.

“Good evening, Y/n, join us.” She beckoned you down with an outstretched candle.

And against your better judgement, you went to her.

You took the candle, and she patted your arm like she cared about you. “Bless you, my sister in Christ.” She whispered, then continued singing. The hymn was pulled from you like “Please.” and “Thank you.”- you didn’t even realize you were singing until you approached the church and your throat was growing tight. A tear fell into your cheek, and you didn’t bother trying to hide it.

Just one more night. Then maybe I can go to the mainland for a while…just one night.

St. Patrick’s glowed amongst the trees. Calling you all in. As you ascended the stairs, the glow of hundred of candles swallowed you whole. Your skin prickled at the warmth, and while you didn’t notice, your hands stopped shaking. The hard, old wood of your pew was supporting your weight as you sat without thinking. You found yourself in a slight daze as you looked from left to right to see the people around you. Faces you knew so well. It was only when you looked behind yourself that you jumped a little. Hassan was sat with Ali not far away, and while it was strange to see both of them there, you found that you grew calmer knowing your friend was there.

Both then when Hassan’s eyes met yours, you found that same look of disturbance there, and it was like a bucket of ice water. He didn’t look uncomfortable. He looked…worried.

You pursed your lips and looked around a little more, and noticed that Erin was back in her usual spot. You almost wanted to sit beside her to ask if she was alright after the last time you saw her that morning…but everyone was finished sitting, and you lost your chance.

It seemed your staring was enough to make her look in your direction though, and it was like looking in a mirror. She looked horrified. Terrified.

Something was wrong.

Any comfort you had felt began to wane. You both exchanged a look, and you suddenly wondered if you had been right; perhaps that underlying terror that had been poisoning you hadn’t been unique to you.

Both of you turned away from each other after a moment, and that feeling of solitude returned. Even amongst your community, you felt so very strange.

You slowly turned back and watched Father Hill take his place on the pulpit. His demeanour was so at ease now…he walked and stood like he belonged up there. You supposed he had been there for over six weeks…he had settled in.

You swallowed.

“This right now is one of the most beautiful things that I’ve ever seen. Now, some of you may have noticed that I’m wearing a gold chasuble tonight. I was actually wearing this on that first Sunday, the first day of the New Covenant. Bev called me out on it, in fact, and asked why I was wearing it on a day in Ordinary Time. And what I couldn’t tell her then, but what I can tell you now, is that I chose it because it was not an ordinary Sunday. Not even a little. And I had cause to celebrate, to rejoice. It was a holy day. And tonight will be different as well. Tonight is the beginning of a new era. And we are meant to celebrate the Resurrection tonight, and, and we will more than anyone ever has.”

You listened, staring at the pew in front of you. The man’s voice alone curled in your ear far too easily, and you didn’t dare look at him. Too afraid of what you might see or how you might feel.

“But first, bless me, brothers and sisters, for I have sinned. It has been too long since my last confession, and it is so long overdue, but here is my sin. I’ve lied to you all. I didn’t come here to replace Monsignor Pruitt. He isn’t recovering in a hospital in the mainland. He’s perfectly healthy.” He admitted.

At this, you looked up.

“He has been blessed. As you have all been blessed, he has been made well, made whole, made young, the same as you. He was healed long before you ever saw this face. He was the first, in fact, and he stands before you right now, asking for your forgiveness.”

For a moment, you looked from left to right at the front of the church, expecting to see the Monsignor, but then his words sunk in fully, and you grew pale. The realization fell from the base of your skull to the pit of your stomach like an iceberg. Cold paralysed your spine as confusion curdled to horror and ate at your bone marrow.

“Now, some of you must have thought it before, in the backs of your minds. Minds so trained by the world to ignore that voice, because how could it be? That would be impossible. But nothing is impossible with God. As we have seen. I was lost and confused, tired and old, on the road to Damascus when lo and behold, an angel of the Lord appeared unto me and bestowed upon me the healing graces of God. And I was restored, as you have all been restored. I returned to you all and I brought with me that angel of the Lord so that he might bless us all, and we have, we’ve seen the miracles. Our new bodies. The resurrection of the body, new and everlasting life. Now tonight, we will be tested, just a little, but we will be tested, as was Jesus. I was afraid when the New Covenant was fulfilled for me. Afraid as was our Savior, but “he who says he abides in Him, ought himself also to walk just as He walked.” “Be imitators of Christ.”I followed him into the valley of darkness, and like our Lord, I endured death. Mercifully short. A leap of faith, a step out onto the water, was all he asked of me. And, like Jesus, you will doubt, you will feel fear, but believe me, I promise you, brothers and sisters, if you follow me, if you follow us, if you follow Him, He will raise you again in His glory to eternal life. There is a price to be paid for everlasting life, as there was for our Savior. And each one of us will have the opportunity tonight to pay that price. But first and… I know after everything we’ve been through together, this is not easy to believe, so I invite you as Jesus invited Thomas to witness for yourself…Sturge?” He beckoned the gruff man over.

“And I John saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of Heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of Heaven saying… ‘Behold, the Tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them and be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more. Mourning and crying and pain will be no more. For the first things have passed away. And the one who is seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.'‘I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.To the thirsty, I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.'”

You watched, unable to look elsewhere. You half hoped this was some horrible dream you were having, fuelled by the discontent you felt. But as each second passed, the more you realised you were never going to wake up.

“This will be frightening for all of us, but, Sturge, my brother in Christ, are you afraid?” Father Pruitt asked him and he grasped the communion cup.

“No, Father. No, I’m not.” Sturge answered, so tamed.

I am! I am, Father! You shook.

“God be with you…” Father Pruitt murmured as Sturge drank, “I’m with you. I’m with you. I’m with him.” He cooed so gently that you actually started to feel a calm come over you, but it was gone again in a flash.

You watched Sturge jolt and grip his stomach; you jumped to your feet in horror.

“It’s all right. That’s okay,” the Father tried to sooth the crowd, but you only watched as Sturge began to cough blood all over himself, “It’s okay. It’s all right.”

The older man collapsed into the priests arms, and they both slowly lowered to the floor, “That’s all right. He’s all right. It’s all right.It will be over soon. It will be over soon.It’s all right.”

Father Pruitt cradled Sturge’s head as he convulsed, “It’s all right. Have faith! Have faith! Have faith, my brother. Have faith! It’s all right…This will be over soon. Soon. Soon.” He shushed him.

“Faith!” John cried, now looking up at the parishioners, “Just a few minutes! Just a few moments, really! The body is dead, but just for a moment! The resurrection of the body is what Easter’s about. That is what we are about to witness.”

You gripped your rosary so hard it dug into your fingers and carved into that spot it had already cut.

From behind you, you heard shuffling, and you turned to look. Hassan stood then, and gripped Ali’s arm in an attempt to pull him out the door, and you very nearly followed them, but you stopped cold when you looked past them and to the door.

“Sheriff, please. I…” Father Pruitt started to say, but as everyone turned to the door, a hush fell over the church. As your eyes focused there, you could taste your heartbeat.

There was no knowing exactly it was that stood there before you, but what it was…was evil. It was death, and pain, and forced that visceral sense of terror you had been keeping at bay to infect your sinew.

John straightened and stretched his hand out in welcome, “Behold…Lo… lo and behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to them. And they were afraid.” At his words, you dared to look away from the creature walking slowly through the church, and stared instead at the very man who you had begun to think was a true testament to the good of man. In the face of such harrowing calamity his smile was one of giddiness.

He was…joyous. Excited. Almost shaking as he beheld the beast perverting his church.

You stared at him. And as he smiled…you finally noticed how that smile was so much more dangerous than it once had been. Where it had once been one of wise luminosity, now it was one that could shred flesh from bone. Those sharpened peaks that sat just a little further from his other teeth. You wondered if he had practiced hiding them.

Then that dread that had seated itself in you curdled into anger. An anger so burning that your cheeks began to warm.

“Have faith, brothers and sisters. I would not make you see what you have seen, I would not ask you to choose what you may choose, without first showing you God’s messenger. And remember, brothers and sisters, have faith that in the Bible, every time they mention an angel, when an angel appears to we humans, we are afraid. ‘And an angel of the Lord appeared to them on the right side of the altar of incense.And when Zechariah saw him, he was terrified and overcome with fear.’”

You watched the beast unfurl two massive wings from under the chasuble. Gasps echoed around you, but you could barely hear them. You were lightheaded.

“Just then, an angel of the Lord stood before them. And the glory of God shone around them and they were sore afraid. And the angel said, ‘Fear not, fear not, be not afraid!'”

Just then, Sturge gasped and sat up. You jolted and almost fell back into your seat.

“And then they took away the stone from the cave where the dead man was lying.” Father Pruitt helped the man up and embrace him, “And Jesus looked up unto the sky and said, ‘Father, I thank you, for you have heard me. You have heard me.' ‘Thank you for hearing me.'” He sobbed.

Your skin began to crawl when you heard Andy start to play the organ, and Wade and Dolly leave to the vestibule. Leeza stood there, tears in her eyes.

These were not the people you knew.

You silently walked over to the girl and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but she only wept harder.

“And he cried out in a loud voice! ‘Lazarus, come out!'And the dead man came out!” You saw the Scarboroughs hand out cups to each churchgoer, and a dolly even smiled at you as she handed you yours, “And his feet and hands were bound with shreds of cloth, and his face was wrapped in cloth, and Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him and let him go!'”

Bev, Wade, and Dolly all made their way through the parishioners, cups upon cups upon cups of liquid that made you more nervous than ever.

“ Brothers and sisters, you are so close to salvation. The miracle is already in you. The blood of the angel is already in your veins, but it is incomplete. The final transformation will not be yours unless you let your earthly body die, so that your divine body can awaken.” Father Pruitt pleaded, and the horrified knot that squeeze your stomach only tightened.

“One moment of faith. That’s the price God asks of us. Just one moment of courage. A small step out of the boat. Just onto the water itself. A small moment of discomfort. A small passion of our own. A gift offered up, and then we are reborn. Open your minds! Open your hearts! And listen to that voice. That voice in the back of your head. That voice the world has tried to silence, has tried to teach you to ignore! The voice of our angel, telling you, “Be not afraid.”

“No. No.” Hassan shook his head and gripped Ali’s arm, “Come on.”

You watched your friend try to pull his son out and away from the horrors, but Ali tugged, trying to stay back, “Dad. Dad! Dad! Stop! Stop!” He twisted free and stood away from his father.

Your heart broke. You couldn’t watch this. You put your cup down, and walked from Leeza and took Ali’s arm, but when you tried to reason with him to go with his father, Father Pruitt began to speak again.

You were silenced.

“Sheriff, Sheriff. I implore you not to deprive yourself. Not to deprive your son of the opportunity for salvation.” He said, hand outstretched to try and calm your friend. You held Ali, trying to inch him away from Father Hill.

You saw something change in Hassan then. Like something in him finally broke.

“Okay.” He muttered, then drew a gun from his belt and pointed it straight at Father Pruitt. You gasped, and pulled Ali but he stayed put as the priest stretched his arm out in front of you and the boy.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks as you watched helplessly. Guilt and fear began to bind itself to your tendons. You should have told Ali to stay away. You should have-

“Everybody stay back! Ali, come here right now. You’re coming with me right now. And if one of you fucking people come anywhere near my son!” Hassan spat.

You swallowed and turned Ali towards you, “Ali, Ali you need to go…please…listen-“ you tried, but he wasn’t listening.

Wade slowly began to walk out in front of the sheriff, and spoke so slow and dazed that you almost didn’t recognise him, “Hey, Sheriff, put that down. There’s no need to be waving a gun.”

Hassan raised his hand and shot the ceiling- everyone ducked in fear, cowering amongst the pews. You tried to pull Ali again, but he stood there watching as three men jumped onto his father and wrestled him to the ground.

You stared down at your friend as he struggled to look up at his son. You quietly begged Ali to listen to you, but there was a strange smile on his face. Your words weren’t being heard by him.

He was gone.

“How dare you?” Bev sneered, slowly walking down in front of the sheriff, “How dare you bring a firearm into the house of God!”

She turned then, on Ali and her violent face turned gentle, “Blessed are you, my son, for setting an example of courage. This young man is choosing God in the face of pressure from his own father.That we should all be so fearless. Thank you. For setting an example…Welcome, my son.” Said, handing him a cup just like the one you had been handed.

You went to take Ali’s arms again to stop him, but just as you went to move, your shoulders we enveloped and tugged back by large hands. You were walked backwards, firmly but gently, out of the way, “Shh…it’s alright. This is a blessing…” Father Pruitt whispered in your ear and he kept you away from the boy. You struggled against him, but you couldn’t even move under his strength.

“Let- let me go-“ you tried. But if what he said before was true- he was far stronger than you, and you were only wasting your energy.

“It’s okay, little one…it’s okay…” his voice might have eased your worry at one time, but now you found it sending your mind into a panicked frenzy, “Have faith.”

You could hear the horror and heartbreak in Hassan’s voice as he pled with his son, “No, Ali. Hey, look at me.” He struggled just as you did, “No.”

“Ali-“ you tried to get his attention, but he was already raising the cup to his mouth.

“I choose God.” He decided.

You struggled harder, twisting and turning to no avail as he tipped the cup and swallowed the contents.

The rest was all white noise. Father Pruitt released you slowly, and you wriggled away to run to the nearest person. Begging them not to drink. Most were tentative, and you were stupid to hope that meant they wouldn’t do it. But one by one, despite your pleas and a few others, they drank. You watched as Dolly stood with Leeza and drank. You rushed over to them and pulled the young girl away from her mother as she collapsed and turned her away when she convulsed.

Faith. Faith. Faith…

You could hear the Father repeating that word.

You felt Warren take Leeza and guide her back further away from the scene unfolding around you. You let him.

So many of the people you held dear drank and died before your eyes. Men, woman, children, elders. You knew you couldn’t do anything. You wanted to curled into a ball and sob.

Faith! Faith! Faith!

“When he raised them up, and carried them on eagle’s wings and brought them to himself!” His was elated to see so many accepting the gift. John stood and couldn’t help the smile on his face as he reassured his flock.

Everything seemed to slow down then. Your eyes were nearly glazed over as you watched Mildred Gunning stand and stare down the priest. You still held Leeza with Warren, and you both tried to figure out what she was doing, though it seemed she answered your question for you when she gripped the Sheriffs gun in her hand.

Your ears rang as a shot rang out.

Your tongue went numb when you saw the bullet tear a hole through John Michael Pruitt’s head.

He collapsed.

Panic rose in you again. It was second nature to want to check on the Father, but you shoved it away; he had trained you so well…preyed on your giving nature. But everything came rushing back to you when that winged creature screeched and tore Mildred from the church; her screams filling the air.

Somewhere across the church, Sarah was sobbing for her mother. The kind of cry that chilled your blood. You found her in the row next to you being held back by Erin.

It was silent…so silent aside from her sobs. All around you were bodies of the people you knew and loved. Gone in minutes.

Was this what was to become of Crockett Island?

You felt fear begin to drain from your body then.

This was your fate.

You were going to die.

That realization made everything so much less paralysing.

But you certainly were not about to be dinner.

“Close the doors. Close the doors!..Lock them!” Bev shouted as she knelt beside Father Pruitts body, “He is okay. He will be okay. He will heal. That is part of God’s miracle!His miracle which some of you would destroy!”

You turned and watched Bev cradle the priest’s head and speak to him so gently. She spoke to him like a mother might her child; you had never seen her care so much for another person.

You realized then that she was just as lost as the rest of you. He was her Jesus. She put her faith in him and made him her idol.

Gods army. He had called you all gods army.

But he had made an army for himself, with him at the centre of it.

“Hold him down.” She snapped to the men gripping Hassan still. You turned back to stare at him, “What is wrong with you? Spitting in the face of such a gift! Remove the sheriff. Take him out back. We’ll need… We’ll need food soon.” She seethed.

You felt dizzy. Your ears began to ring again, and though you saw Bev’s mouth moving, and the look of fearful realization that Sturge was staring at the blood on her hands, you couldn’t hear.

You saw Ali awaken, and felt sick at the look of euphoria on his face.

Then, one by one, the bloodied bodies around you began to twitch and groan. You couldn’t feel your toes, and you wondered if you had somehow died along with them and were floating off the ground. Just as slowly as they rose up, your hearing returned too. Though you wished it hadn’t.

“Mommy?…Mommy?” You heard Leeza cry as Dolly slowly stood.

“Leeza…” she whispered. You watched, gut twisting horribly as Dolly’s expression was nearly blissful. You had watched blood erupt from her lips just minutes ago…yet here you were now staring at her as she regained her footing.

You looked this way and that, and while the people you once knew were indeed standing, there was something in them that wasn’t quite as it should be. Something…something-

Magnetic. That was what you had first thought of Father Pa-

John Pruitt.

You corrected yourself mentally. There was no Paul Hill.

Another lie from a pious man.

Then after another few minutes came the begging. The “Please don’t hurt me.” And “Mommy it’s me.” And the calling of names. The crying. The screams. All at once. It was so loud; you could hardly think. Impulse and instinct kicked in when Sarah came to you and Leeza and helped you tear her away from Dolly as she smelled her daughter’s neck.

You were pushed and shoved amongst the chaos of it all until Hassan grabbed your waist and pulled you through to the church vestibule, then hauled in Sarah and Leeza and Annie and Erin. You all piled into the small room and knocked into the wall and the table. You heard Annie sob for Ed as the door shut…and your heard broke even more.

After a second, you looked around to see tins of rat poison on the table. But it wasn’t that that made you go stock still. It was the cowering figure of Bev Keene at the end of the room that made you all stop.

“That’ll all be over soon. And they’ll all wake up, eternal.” She said like she was trying to justify the hell on Earth that was unravelling just feet from you.

“You hid?” Sarah asked in disbelief.

Then as you all stood in silence, Bev caught sight of the gun Erin held in her hand, “What are you gonna do, Erin Greene?Guns? Those things don’t matter anymore, “she egged her on, “Not in the new world. The world without death. You could shoot me right now. It would mean I’m five minutes behind-“

Erin fired, and the bullet tore right through Bev’s chest.

You all stood there stunned.

“We have five minutes.” Erin said calmly.

And just like that, you all ran.

Keeping off the main roads seemed the best route, so you sprinted through the trees and tall grasses into the heart of the island to get some distance. After several long, exhausting minutes, you all seemed to slow and duck into a thicket near town square.

“We need to get to the boats…” Annie panted.

Hassan nodded, as did you, but Erin and Sarah shook their heads, “They’re not working. Sturge disabled them all.” Erin looked out over the landscape.

“How did…?” You started to ask.

“We…we knew something was wrong…tried to leave this afternoon but it was too late.” Sarah chimed in grimly.

And suddenly, you felt as if you could weep. You weren’t crazy. It wasn’t just you who didn’t feel right.

“Anyways…we’re going to have to figure out a strategy. We can wait them out until morning…then we can radio for help.” Erin sighed.

“Erin?” You asked, and she turned to you, “I don’t think you should be running so much what with baby-“

“She’s gone.” Erin muttered.

You went pale, eyes wide. Sarah nodded in your peripheral, and you felt your gut twist painfully, “I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Better than her getting stuck on this fucked up island.” She shook her head.

“We should burn down any empty houses…try to warn as many people as we can.” Hassan said. His voice was thick with emotion, and it took all of your strength to not hold him and weep.

Instead, you nodded.

“Y/n, you take Leeza and Warren to the Uppards…hide there. Take one of the row boats out into the water if you need to.” He stared into your soul, and you nodded.

“I want to help-“ you tried.

“You will be. Keep those two safe.” He said, and you finally nodded.

“Atta girl.” He said, “Alright…Annie let’s go find some fuel.”

Your throat went tight when he spoke to you, and you could feel yourself on the cusp of hyperventilating, but you forced yourself to ignore it. You all stood up together, and you gathered the traumatised teenagers. You all stood there for a moment looking eachother over.

“Be- be careful.” You forced out as tears began to rise in your eyes.

“You too.” Annie smiled tightly, and kissed Warren’s head, “I love you my boy.”

No one hugged aside from Annie and her son, no one said much of anything. There was so much you all wanted to say to each other but there were not enough words to say it. You cast Hassan one last look and offered him a small, tight smile before your groups parted. He returned it with a nod, and you patted his arm before you grabbed the children by the hands and began leading them back towards the church to get to the Uppards.

Once you were halfway through your journey, something caught your attention, and you quickly yanked both teenagers down u to the high grass with you for cover.

“What’s wro-“ Warren started to ask, but you put your finger to your lips for him to be quiet, and you all listened. You could hear feet on gravel. Several pairs of feet…meandering down the road not far from you. You felt a wave of nausea crest through you. They let them out of the church.

On the loose to feed.

Adrenaline had been pumping in your bloodstream for well over an hour now, and it told you to run. That you could make it- that they wouldn’t catch you. But you weren’t about to risk it…not with Leeza and Warren with you.

Minutes ticked by, and your muscles ached from being in the same position, but after a long while, you didn’t hear anyone else. You smile rose your head up and sighed a breath of relief that was short lived. Just moments after you had deemed it safe to run, a new sound reached your ears.

Faint screaming.

You turned and looked back towards the town. Small plumes of smoke had begun to spiral into the sky. You sucked in a breath, and steadied yourself before taking the hands of the teenagers and pulling them up and began running again. You moved deeper into the trees, and twigs scratched your legs and face as you pushed on, gasping for breath as you tasted iron.

Tears began to sting at your eyes again. You wished you could have told your friend’s how much they meant to you. That you would see them after. But it all seemed so empty in hindsite. Even just telling them that wouldn’t have been enough.

As the three of you began to pass the church, you slowed your pace amongst the trees to stare at the glowing building.

You didn’t know why you needed to go there, but you felt that pull inside you.

One more time.

“What is it?” Leeza asked when she noticed you had stopped.

“Nothing. Go. Go I’ll meet you there okay?” You whispered, “If I’m not there in twenty minutes, you push one of the rowboats into the water and you get out into the bay, and you pray to God. Okay?”

They both nodded, and you returned the gesture before shooing them away. You watched them go for a few minutes- the sound of screams growing more constant all around you.

The possibility of death was not so horrible as you strode through the woods that thinned at the back of the rectory. You had accepted your likely death back when you had been sitting on your pew.

Be not afraid…

How ironic that indeed you no longer held any fear for your end.

You slowly walked through the grass, down the side of the church, and up the stairs. With each step you saw more and more of the remanence of the carnage that had taken place. Bloody handprints streaked the doorway and the floor, and various articles of clothing were left strewn around. You looked at the pews that you had sat in since childhood, and at the windows that you used to stare out of. A flood of memories you had from St.Patrick’s invaded your head, and you felt a single tear roll down your cheek.

Your gaze moved down the aisle, taking in what was left of St. Patrick’s. Then as you reached the stairs of the pulpit, you stopped.

There sat John Pruitt and Mildred Gunning, both staring back at you.

You sucked in a breath.

There were no words you could say to that man. Not anymore. You might have spilled your heart out to him at one point not long ago, but whatever it was that you needed to say to him didn’t matter anymore.

John heard a heartbeat approaching from outside, and waited as it approached. He felt his gut twist at the prospect of it being lost islanders who didn’t understand what was happening. How did this all go wrong?

But he wasn’t prepared for it to be you. There was so much he needed to say to you…so much you needed to know, but he had never seen you cast such a cold look before.

Father Pruitt went to stand, “Y/n-“ he called to you, but you were gone just as fast as you had appeared.

Hearing him say your name was like a blow to your stomach. You spun around and bolted outside and into the bushes to save a life you barely had. Your lungs burned painfully but you didn’t dare stop running until you were on the sand of the Uppards. The trees thinned into high grasses, and you slowed your pace as you walked out to the shore. You looked out at the water, and saw Leeza and Warren in a small boat in the water. You saw them spot you, and you waved, which they returned.

You thanked God that they were safe.

There was still a couple hours left before sunrise and the safety it brought you, so you found a softer patch amongst the thick brush, and you sat down. Either you would be found and killed, or you would live another day. There wasn’t a great deal you could do to avoid the former, so you waited.

Waited for that sunrise of revival that you used to love as a little girl.

You rocked back and forth, and sang gently to calm yourself as the world began to glow. Smoke from the town had begun to fill the air, and you wondered if you would be able to say hello to your friends again. You were anxious to walk back into town; you just wanted to know who survived. You needed to see Hassan to radio for help or see if he had any connections to the coastguard. You knew he would be alright…he had to be. Even if he was turned you were certain he would try to help you get away.

You stayed in your place until Leeza and Warren returned back to shore. The sky was a bright blue then, with fading pinks and oranges- colourful just like the Easter eggs you used to hunt.

The teenager’s eyes were just as bloodshot as yours, and you were certain there were no more tears left in you to cry.

The three of you began walking back down the island. You tried not to focus on the blood stains in the dirt and grass every so often, and the other two didn’t seem to wish to comment on it either.

You came to the church, and the other buildings there, and noted that the windows were all covered and boarded up aside from the rectory.

You looked back at Leeza and Warren, and they both stared at the buildings, lost. You knew what they were thinking. “Our parents are in there.” But they didn’t say it. You pursed your lips and began guiding them along, down Main St.

The closer you got to the town, the more bodies and…remains you saw. You steeled your nerves and kept going, hoping and waiting to see someone else alive.

Various buildings were still smouldering. You walked past the general store, and stopped short when you came to your little shop. Or what was left of it.

You thought you might burst into tears at the sight, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t feel anything. It wouldn’t matter if you did or didn’t. Everything was gone.

“Warren?” You muttered.

“Yeah?” He said, tearing his eyes from a bloodied shirt on the ground.

“You know where my house is right?”

“Yeah it’s-“

“Go there.” You breathed out, “Check if the windows are covered…if not, go inside and wait for me. Don’t go anywhere else. There’s food in the fridge.” You gave them both a tight smile and ushered them away. Leeza took his hand and cast you one last look before hurrying to keep up with Warren’s stride.

As they disappeared down the road, you started to look around the town more carefully. You weaved through buildings and along the shore, calling out for anyone.

“Hello? Hello!” You yelled as you trudged along the sand. But on seagulls cawed back to you, “Hassan?” You tried.

You walked further, and came to a pause as you stared out over the water. You had always liked how quiet Crockett was, but now it was silent.

You sighed, and turned back towards the bushes to find a break in them so you could survey the damage further. Just a few meters away there was one, and you began trudging towards it. But as you grew closer, your steps slowed.

There was a body lying there.

You hadn’t noticed that you were walking again until you stopped cold. You had thought that you couldn’t feel your stomach drop anymore, but it seemed that you were able to one more time.

It was the blue denim jacket that stopped you.

You knew that jacket. You saw it almost everyday. You made jokes about that jacket.

“No…”

You took the remaining steps to it, and collapsed to the ground- knees colliding with the earth painfully.

Your friend. Your coffee buddy. Your ally.

Hassan Al Shabaz.

Your throat was tight and dry as you wept. Rivers of tears flooded your cheeks as you knelt over his body, and gripped his limp arm.

“Wake up…Hassan wake up…pl-please…don’t leave me alone…” you sobbed, shaking him.

Out of everyone you thought he would be the last to go…and never like this.

You wished you had told him what a wonderful father he was. You wished you had hugged him. You wished you had told him that he did all he could and that was enough. You wished you told him he was loved by God. You wished you had been able to say goodbye.

You wished none of this had happened.

You wished John Pruitt had stayed lost in that desert. You wished you had told him to leave and never look back.

You wished you had done better.

But now all you could do was roll him over, and push his hair from his face. You took a shuttering breath when your eyes caught the bullet wound in his stomach with the halo of blood around it that saturated his clothes.

You could have sat there until night fall to let the islanders have you. But you knew Leeza and Warren were waiting for you, and you were going to keep them safe.

When you walked to your house, Warren asked you what you were doing as you grabbed your shovel. It only look one grim look for him to understand.

“Need a hand?” He asked you.

You shook your head, and walked back to where your friend laid. It took the remaining daylight for you to bury him. You placed a halo of stones around his grave, and retrieved a photo of him with Ali from their house. You placed it directly over him, and let out your last few tears before returning home and reinforcing your house.

It took an hour past sunset for the power to be restored. You hid in the basement that night. You could hear the Flynns and Scarboroughs pounding on your door begging to see their children. But they didn’t break the door down. They understood.

It wasn’t until a couple days later that the islanders got the kids.

You were out during the day when their parents called your landline, begging for them to see them. It was likely with good intent, but while their parents might have meant well, there was dozens and dozens of hungry islanders who didn’t.

You had felt so numb when you returned to find them gone.

You would survive purely off the idea that one day your rage would be witnessed by the man who made your life putrefy from the inside out.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@littleredwritingcat @zaunite-leo @f4er1e-g1rl @purplemotif @vampyre-kin @professional-sinner @hamishlinklaters @spacechupss @pansexualpamandabear @ebiemidnightlibrarian @erialuna @nilla-bear @vintageglassheart02

[dangerousduckcloud]

take my hand, i'll fly you to the stars - a superbat oneshot

Clark Kent, Daily Planet reporter, doesn't know that Bruce Wayne is Batman. Bruce Wayne, Gotham's billionaire, doesn't know that Clark Kent is Superman. So when Superman confesses he kissed Bruce Wayne in front of Batman one day, there's only one reason as to why he began acting weird with him. Batman's homophobic. or: two idiots in love that don't know how to communicate and instead make their own assumptions.

Read it also on AO3

I know I should be writing for 'Flowerbeds' but I got a bit of writer's block and I had this idea in my head for a while so I began writing a bit to get inspiration for the fic, but I got too much inspiration for this fic and so I wrote it all. Sorry.

English is not my first language.

Being a reporter comes with a lot of benefits; you are privy to information before anyone else. You uncover truths, bring down empires. You’re the voice of the people, helping to be heard those whose voice is underwater.

You fall in love.

Alright, well, maybe that last one is not exactly tied up with the job, but for Clark Kent, Daily Planet reporter, it sure felt like it. Being born out in space and raised in a Kansas farm, the possibilities of being invited to a Wayne Charity Gala were none had it not been because of his profession, although ‘invited’ might be a bit of a stretch, more like Cat Grant had gotten sick and no one else wanted to come, not even Clark, at first.

Point is, he’s here now. His tall, broad figure easily ignore by the one percent who could perceive he didn’t belong; they could sense his suit was off the rack, his glasses from the dollar store, his watch older than most people here, a gift from his Pa when he turned eighteen, a Kent heirloom that’d been passed down every generation from father to son, something he’d probably do one day.

So no, he didn’t belong here. Nevertheless, that didn’t matter, he was here to do a job, and he hoped ‘Clark Kent, clumsy Daily Planet reporter’ would strike pity in the guests to grant him and interview.

“Mr. Paul!” Clark mumbled, his pen ‘accidentally’ falling from his hands and clattering to the polished marble floor, the stifled chuckles heard with clarity thanks to his super hearing. “Do you have anything to say about the recent allegations regarding your company’s involvement in money laundering?”

Clark was a good man, he cared about the safety of the lives of beings walking on earth, be it human or animal, but he still allowed himself from time to time to see pleasure on seeing how guilty people changed their faces when confronted about their criminal activities. The mighty, haughty smile on Mr. Paul’s face fell, a sour look replacing it.

“There’s not much I can say that hasn’t been reported on the news. We discovered the person behind it all and we have left the police to handle the matter.” Generic, memorized answer that Clark was sure his PR team had advised him to learn by rote. One explanation that in reality it meant ‘I was behind it all and I already paid the right people to not do anything about it.’

“And what about the rumors it was your people doing so to avoid bankruptcy?” Had he added more force, Mr. Paul’s wine glass flute would shatter.

“It’s just that, rumors.” Mr. Paul said acerbically. “Such a brilliant mind as yours should know better than to believe what the common mouth spews. A shame, Mr. Kent, that quite an outstanding reporter as yourself has been reduced to writing gossip columns.”

“Well, that’s why I’m coming to the source. To stop the gossips.” Clark had another question ready for the man when he conveniently received a call on his phone, raising a finger to stop his next words.

“One moment, please.”

Clark was no idiot and knew that meant ‘don’t bother me anymore’ while he saw the man walk away, his hearing revealing the man was, in fact, talking to no one.

It was fine, Clark had already learnt a thing or two more about him by other attendants with a loose tongue due to the alcohol making them more talkative than usual.

He checked his watch for the umpteenth time that night; he desperately wanted to leave, and it’d only been two hours since the gala started and the main person of the night had yet to make an appearance, the only reason he still couldn’t leave, as Perry had asked him to get at least one quote from him.

Bruce Wayne, the man every reporter just could not get a serious single answer out of him, unless you were asking about his children or ‘The Gray Ghost’.

Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, labeled as the hottest man in the world by several magazines for several years now.

Clark knew about Bruce. Everyone did. However, he hadn’t had the opportunity to meet the man, no actual reason to do so, but he’d done his research; orphaned at eight, ‘disappeared’ at sixteen, came back at twenty-three, more children than braincells, according to some people.

Single. Hot.

Yes, Clark had eyes, and he recognized the man was nice to see, staying up late at night re-watching all his interviews ever given despite not having something more to learn about his businesses or recent charities work.  

Unintentionally, he did discover something else.

Bruce ‘Brucie’ Wayne was a liar.

He wasn’t as stupid as he pretended to be. Every single word that left those plump, pinkishlips was idiotic on purpose, to keep up a façade of a bimbo idiot for some reason. Business advantage, maybe?

And no, it wasn’t his slight, minimum, non-existent ‘crush’ as Lois had worded it, nor ‘all the hits to his head Bruce had gotten in all his accidents leaving him dumber every time’ theory Jimmy had concluded. No, it wasn’t anything like that.

There was a clear difference between his first interviews, his more recent ones, and all the undercover videos people had uploaded of him on social media, where he showed quite a different personality when he was with his children.

He used to be shy, withdrawn, a lot of vague answers but on point. Now he always finds a way to get into the interviewer nerves, to be obnoxious. And with his kids? Totally different. Sweet, calm. There was a recent video of him discussing with Timothy Drake about if time travel was possible, all his answers those that belonged to a scientist.

Bruce Wayne, the man who had barely stepped one foot in the ballroom and was already swarmed by potential opportunists—err, shareholders, businessmen, reporters, gorgeous, single men and women and mothers with single children that would do anything to get their daughters married off to the richest man in Gotham and, in turn, become part of that position.

All lovely people, Clark was sure.

Brucie didn’t seem to mind, though. At least, not externally. While on the outside he was all smiles, handshakes, and flirtatious jokes, his heart, Clark could hear, was beating rapidly, the tiniest crease on his temple and the way his eyes were searching for a way out.

Another point to his theory.

Clark desperately wanted to go back to his hotel room, the only good thing about this whole event. (He could totally get back home in less than a minute, but he wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity of being pampered) but in lieu of making a beeline to where Mr. Wayne was currently being held by the arm by a beautiful blonde woman attempting to seduce him, Clarke opted to take another walk around the perimeter of the gala, keeping himself out of view.

If he wanted to get a good interview, or at least a quote, with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor, he needed to wait, not corner him like a wild animal.

Clark liked to wander and mostly hover around the food table in these kinds of events, making a bee line to the hors d'oeuvre, without fail trying to find the baked brie, glad that the staff had re-stocked them.

“I recommend the stuffed mushrooms, they’re my favourite.” Clark jumped a bit in his place, how had he managed to sneak up on him?

Clark had his breath taken away, the man was even more beautiful up close and in real life that all the pictures he’d seen of him.

“Mr. Wayne! It’s, uh—pleasure to meet you!”

“Bruce, please. Mr. Wayne was my father.”

“Bruce, then.” Clark smiled widely, enthusiastically shaking his hand until he heard a groan from the billionaire. “I—I’m so sorry, I—”

“Quite a strong hand for a reporter.”

“I… Exercise.”

“I noted.” Bruce’s gaze travelled over his body, and this time, Clark wasn’t pretending to be clumsy, he was flustered and anxious. “Now, usually I prefer to be left alone, but why is it that a Pulitzer winning journalist would prefer to hover over the food table rather than trying to interview me? Am I that uninteresting?”

“I was just— you know about me?”

“Of course, I read all about your piece on ecological alternatives to reduce carbon emissions, been a fan ever since. In fact, I implemented quite a few of your ideas on my companies.”

That was written years ago. Had he been noticed by the Bruce Wayne for that long?

“Thank you, Mr—Bruce. It’s good to know someone like yourself cares about the environment. If you let me, do you have something else to comment on the topic?”

“Well, my parents always taught me to give back to the world that helped us be where we are now. Be it the people or mother nature, and without her, we’re nothing. So, I urge people, but most importantly my most fortunate peers, to research on how we can help heal our world.”

Nothing at all like the clueless man seen on TV.

“And the charity, it’s being held due to your youngest son, right?”

“Yes! Damian is such an animal lover. He brought to my attention that there are not a lot of animal sanctuaries in Gotham and those few don’t have the support they need. So, we’re raising money and awareness to help them rebuild their buildings, to give those precious dogs and cats a proper place to live while they’re waiting to be adopted. And as well, to encourage people to adopt and not to buy. He also volunteers every weekend in one of them. Of course, he couldn’t be here today, as it’s a school night.”

Bruce’s face changed completely when asked about Damian, his eyes shone with pure love and pride, a real smile on his lips, not the kind where it seemed as it physically pained him to smile when talking to others.  

“You never answered my question, though.”

“Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you want to interview me?”

“Oh!” How could one man hold so much power? To look at him with those blueish-grey eyes and turn him into putty? “I didn’t—I mean, I wanted to wait for the right moment. With all those people…”

“Well…” Bruce got close to him, taking a hold of his red tie and pulling him closer. “You got it. Now, why don’t we go somewhere quiet and finish this interview?”

𓆩𓆪

Life had gone back to normalcy —or as normal as it could be for an alien on Earth. But at last, he’d gone back to Metropolis.

He’d all but fucked up his chance to sleep with the most handsome man, though.

They’d gone back to Clark’s hotel room, as it was just two blocks away from the building where the gala was held. He felt as giddy as a teenage boy getting his first kiss, hands sweating and looking into every reflection he could to check he was presentable.

Bruce didn’t wait a second until they closed the door to start kissing him, touching him everywhere. Clark had held his face between his hands, feeling the strong, but soft skin under his fingers, the small nips and cuts that littered his face.

It wasn’t until Bruce had unlatched his belt and had almost pulled Clark’s pants down that he asked him to stop, anxiety pooling in the pit of his stomach and hands cold.

“Is everything alright?”

Clark nodded, looking everywhere but him. “Yeah, yes. I just… I don’t know how I’m feeling with being just a one-night stand.”

Bruce stood quiet, still halfway getting down on his knees and Clark’s zipper on his hands.

“I understand.” He stood up, looking up to meet Clark’s eyes, placing a quick, soft kiss on his lips. “Unfortunately, I can’t assure you this could become a regular thing. I’m sorry.” He fixed his opened shirt before leaving. “I’m… Well, if you ever need an interview, or help with anything, I won’t say no to you.”

And with that, he left.

And now Clark was chiding himself for letting him go.

Hero life had also taken an extremely rare break, with little to no serious attacks, only an attempted robbery here and there.

“In more recent news, Gotham’s billionaire, Bruce Wayne, was held for ransom two nights ago.” The T.V droned out, catching Clark’s attention from the game of Scrabble he was playing with Flash. Like all nights for the past weeks, the night watch at the Watchtower had been long and dull. Don’t get him wrong, he was glad there wasn’t truly a need for them, but they still had to stay the whole night just in case. “When questioned after his rescue, the man had this to say:”

“Oh, this was real? I really thought they were pretty bad strippers.” The image on screen showed a dirty, bloodied Bruce. A lip split open, with messy hair and shirt halfway unbuttoned, his tie loose. “So that’s why they taped me up after ten minutes. I guess it wasn’t a kink thing.” That explained the reddened area around his mouth.

A very tired and embarrassed man in a chauffeur outfit asked to have no more questions, helping Bruce get in the back of a limousine.

Was it simply a game for him to appear so dense in front of the cameras?

In front of him, Flash chuckled. “Can you believe someone like him owns half of a city?”

“He’s not that bad.” Clark said, arranging the letters on his tile rack to see if he could form a word with his remaining letters. “He’s a nice guy.”

A truly nice guy that didn’t pushed Clark when he told him he didn’t want to be used for pleasure.

On the computer behind him, the click-clack of the keyboard stopped momentarily. Taking advantage of the slow, calm nights, Batman had thought it best to update the Watchtower’s security system, bringing along with him Robin, the one you would rarely see without an energy drink. Apparently, the kid was a real prodigy with computers, maybe even more so than Batman.

“Wait, so you know him?” Flash asked, hand halfway through placing a tile on the board.

“I’ve… Met him. Once. He, uh…”

“Oh, Sups, there’s a child present!” Flash chuckled, looking at where Robin was sitting. “Our Sups has a crush! It’s his pretty face, isn’t it? Can’t be his brains.”

Next to the computer, Batman put down his coffee mug with more force than necessary, his super hearing catching on a low, muffled chuckle from Robin.

“I… No.” He sighed, placing I and R on the board to spell ‘Liar’. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Guy’s already being kidnapped every other day; he wouldn’t be able to leave his house for the rest of his life if somehow word spreads that he’s dating Superman.”

Flash nodded, playing the word ‘soul’. He was unusually quiet for the guy who always had something to say, especially if it came to the love lives of everyone in the League. “Cape life’s not easy, is it?”

His sombre demeanour made Clark feel he wasn’t talking specifically about his situation.

𓆩𓆪

Bruce knew, knew chaos was bubbling in his son’s mind, sure to ensure as soon as they got home. Tim had been suspiciously quiet all the way home from the zeta tube location to the Batcave, a leg going up and down repeatedly, and he knew it wasn’t from the energy drinks he so desperately wanted him to give up drinking.

“Don’t say anything.” He grumbled as they entered the cave, the dark tunnel giving way to the lights from the cave.

“Say what about what?” He turned to give him the bat-glare as Dick had once so eloquently named it, but his only response was a meek smile, hand reaching for the door’s handle, waiting for Bruce to unlock it.

He couldn’t really hold him here the rest of his life, could he?

With a sigh, he unlocked the door, and Tim hurried out of the car and up the stairs leading to the manor, not caring about Alfred’s ‘no capes inside the house’ rule. “DICK, YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS.” Was all he heard before the clock closed.

There goes Bruce’s peace.

Making use of the few remaining moments of tranquillity, he sat on the batcomputer, his cowl removed and hanging behind him.

So, Superman had interacted with him in his civilian identity. Both of them.

Problem is, when? How? Everyone had agreed that they would reveal their identities when they were ready, and Bruce had agreed not to investigate them, as they knew he so easily could. And he’d kept his promise.

Kind of.

He knew it would be a total break of their trust in him, but he also knew this kind of information could be necessary in the, hopefully not probable, case any of them ever went rogue.

Thus, he’d written a code, with Tim’s help, to analyse every bit of information online and compile possible candidates on who was who. Information heavily encrypted and hidden.

Surely this is something he’s allowed to do? It involves him, after all.

Opening the file for Superman, he scrolled past the names of people that were a likely fit for Superman’s physique and related events. There were quite a few, but the stats always showed a probability below sixty percent, besides, those were names he didn’t recognize ever talking to. All except one.

Clark Kent.

His file had a ninety-eight percentage of being Superman.

He was adopted by a couple in Smallville, Kansas, moving to Metropolis… Right around the time Superman was seen for the first time in the city, not to mention there had been strange sightings and unexplainable situations both in Smallville and around him in general before that.

When Bruce inspected more on his adoption, he was met with an unsuccessful result, as there hadn’t been any records of him before the Kents adopted him, as if he didn’t exist for the first few months of his live.

And the adoption agency had only handled one adoption before going ‘bankrupt’ just weeks after opening. His.

God.

He almost slept with Superman.

The man he has been dreaming with ever since he met him.

When the echoes of hurried steps reached his ears, he closed the file, heart beating frantically with this new information, yet he had a stoic face. His oldest son rushing to his side, with Tim behind him. “Superman what?”

“Irrelevant.” Bruce said as he stood up, taking off his gauntlets.

“B, you have to date him, can you imagine how cool it would be to have Superman as your dad?”

“What about Batman being yours?”

“No offense, B.” Tim’s voice reached his ears. “But you’re just a regular guy with enough money to buy this.” He gestured with his thumb to the screen behind him, leaning on the desk of the computer.

“Yeah! And Superman is Superman!”

“Hng.”

“Oh, you know we love you.” Dick said, hugging him and not letting him move, something that made his senses spike when he heard Tim on the computer. “But you’re our favourite after Superman.”

“And Wonder Woman.” Jason’s voice was rarely heard these days in the cave, surprising both Bruce and Dick.

“And Wonder Woman.” Dick nodded, his chin resting on Bruce’s shoulder.

“So why are we dissing Bruce?”

“Superman has a crush on Brucie.” Tim replied, fingers still pressing the keys on the keyboard, Jason’s laugh resonated through the whole cave, only once cutting when they heard a grasp from Tim. “The reporter?”

They all turned to see what he just discovered, Clark’s file on display for them, the picture of him with a cute smile taking a quarter of the screen, the blinking ‘98% MATCH’ going off and on.

Shit.

𓆩𓆪

“KENT!” Perry’s shout shook the building, and years of working for the man had taught him it was a terrible idea to have the man call out for you a second time, rushing to his office and closing the door behind him, standing in front of his desk. “Pack your bags, you’re going to Gotham, again.”

“What for? I can’t, Perry, I’m still working on my investigative piece—”

“You can do it later. You’re going to another Wayne Gala; the man loves to throw his goddamn parties…”

“And why can’t Cat do it?”

“Wayne asked specifically for you. And the man owns the newspaper, so we can’t exactly say no to him.”

He… Had? Had he been thinking of their past encounter? Why would he ask for him specifically?

No, maybe it was because Clark was focused on his job and wrote worth-reading  articles, as the official account of the Wayne family had shared his reportage of the past gala on their social media.

Surely, it was simply that.

He was once again waiting for the horde of guests to stop hogging Bruce’s attention before trying to interview him. He didn’t worry, he had promised he would give him an interview if he asked.

But the bewildered and flustered look Bruce gave him when he noticed him didn’t make him feel all that confident.

So today, he was eating a stuffed mushroom, savouring the melted cheese and toppings inside it while he waited.

It seemed this time, Bruce had opted for the company of two of his children, his oldest, Richard Grayson, and his third oldest, Tim Drake.

“You think we should?” Clark heard one of them say, he didn’t need to use his super hearing, as they’d also decided to favour the food over the people, and the kids weren’t talking particularly low.

“B’s getting lonely, and I can only handle so many ‘father-son’ days when Damian’s not around.” The youngest one groaned.

So, Bruce’s sons were playing matchmaker, that was genuinely nice and cute of them.

Except when he sensed them behind him. “Excuse me. Are you Clark Kent?” It was the youngest one who’d approached him, the poor kid had more bags under his eyes than a Christmas tree, his face looking a second away from falling asleep in the middle of the Gala. Just what could be so dire to keep a billionaire kid staying up all night?

It couldn’t be parties, Clark was sure. Unlike their parent, none of the Wayne kids had taken to be the life of parties —excluding, of course, Damian Wayne for the moment—, they rarely were seen in one if it wasn’t hosted by Bruce.

There actually wasn’t much about Timothy Drake online besides what he wanted there to be; son of the deceased Jack and Janet Drake, taken by Bruce, suspected to be Wayne Enterprises next CEO, despite barely being able to drive.

“That’s me, what can I do for you?”

“We want you to interview our dad.” Said Dick Grayson, —or ‘Gotham’s sweetheart’ as most gossip magazines liked to call him— standing behind Timothy. There were more things online about him than his younger brother. From his earlier research for the first gala; Richard Grayson was son of the world renown acrobats John and Mary Grayson, who had, sadly passed away in an ‘accident’ at the circus, taken shortly after by Bruce. The kid was a prodigy in gymnastics, always outshining everyone in every school competition he went to in his youth, although why he never made it a career out of it and go to the Olympics was a mystery to everyone. “You know, you’re the only honest reporter who won’t twist his words.”

The way they both smiled and shared a look was unsettling, the kids knew how to be creepy if they wanted to. There was something in the twinkle of their eyes that only spoke of mischief. Clark might not be a top-notch detective as Batman, but he still had learned to tell when people weren’t being sincere.

He wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, he was here to do that, after all, but he needed to know the reason as to why they were personally asking him to interview him. However, the sound of glass shattering and screams put him on alert. “Oh, great. Not another one.” Timothy mumbled. Were Gothamites plainly this desensitized about criminals taking in hostages?

He was looking for an exit to change into his suit when the cold end of a gun’s barrel was pressed to his back. “To the centre, now!” Clark complied, if only to not risk his identity or risk the chance of the man accidentally shooting one of the kids. Kids that were much calmer than they should be.

He’s never coming back to Gotham.

The trio moved to the centre of the ballroom, where every attendant was huddled in a circle. “Everything of value in the bag!” Another man shout, holding a dirty, ragged brown bag in a hand, and a semi-automatic gun in the other.

Clark tripped, or at least, he made it seem like that, to take the opportunity to slide behind all the hostages, for the outside eye, it seemed he did that to cover himself in case things went awry, but in truth, it was so he could make his disappearance easier and change from Clark Kent to Superman.

There were only four armed men inside, and another outside sitting in a car, the getaway, Clark assumed. He couldn’t see much else with his x-ray vision, just that the car had the trunk open, waiting to be filled with the spoils of the night.

Thing is, they weren’t taking that much stuff to require the extra space, so what could be the actual reason? Kidnapping, maybe?

But who?

“I love playing rough, don’t get me wrong.” Of course it had to be him. “But even I think this is a bit overkill.”

“Shut up.” The man holding Bruce by the scruff said, pushing him to the floor and letting the end of his gun crush his hand. Bruce’s howl of pain mingled with the cry of Timothy, ready to get up and run to help his father, only being stopped by Richard, who held him by his shoulders and sitting him down again, talking in hushed whispers. It was the only reaction the kid had shown so far tonight.

They’d already taken Bruce outside, leaving only the guy who was still collecting money and jewellery, walking backwards towards the exit, gun pointed at the attendants. The split second he turned to leave was his mistake, colliding with a body as strong as steel. Clark had taken that millisecond to change into his suit and get behind the man, swiftly taking his gun and pulverizing it in his hand. “I don’t think you were invited to this party.”

Clark didn’t need to use much strength to knock out the assailant, a simple hit with his index finger was enough.

The rumble of an engine let Clark know the rest of them didn’t bother to wait for their partner, clearly already having secured what they wanted, and the things in the bag were just a bonus.

The getaway car, had, of course, not made it very far before Clark stood in front, crashing into him. The back going up in the air for a second before falling, and he rushed to hold it and gently drop it lest he hurts Bruce even more.

Clark made sure the delinquents were unconscious before opening the car’s trunk. “Are you alright, Mr. Wayne?”

Despite looking a bit green and having a broken finger, he didn’t seem to have any other serious injury… Not recent, at least. All his bones hand been broken in several places, several times, some not fully healed correctly. Just in what kind of situations was this man getting in?

He, in turn, was oblivious to the revelation he’d just had, awestruck, and eyes wide. Bruce accepted the hand Clark had lend him to get off the trunk, careful not to put too much pressure on his broken finger. “Superman.” He whispered. “I… I’m fine. Just a broken finger. I’ve had worse.”

“No doubt.” Clark mumbled. Wayne looked at him curiously, as he hadn’t heard him completely, but shook his head after a second, his dazzling smile back in place.

“How can I pay back the man who saved me?”

“It’s not necessary, Mr. Wayne. I’m glad to be of help. Please, let me take you to a hospital so that you can get treated.”

“No need, I’m sure the ambulance will be here soon.” And true, Clark could hear the siren a couple kilometres away getting closer to them. “Besides, my sons will worry if they don’t see me, but…” he placed is good hand on Clark’s shoulders, standing on his tiptoes to reach him and place a gently, warm kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, superman.”

𓆩𓆪

Batman hates him. There’s no other way to put it.

It’s not hard to make the man broody and angry, Clark thinks, he just never expected it would be because he’s disgusted by his choice in romantic partners.

He’s never said it outright, but he shows it in the way he’s began to distance himself from the man every time they are together in a mission or in a meeting debriefing. If his hands happen to slightly touch his or any other part of his suit, Batman pulls away as if he was burned.

And the man was always cold, talking only if needed, but Clark could see that he was getting even colder with him, his words clipped as if it offended him to talk to him.

He never thought Batman would be homophobic.

He was conflicted. He didn’t want to get into his companions’ personal matters and preferences, but this was something he couldn’t simply ignore, as it was something he considered was wrong of him.

But he also didn’t know how to approach him.

He was distressed. Even though they didn’t know each other names, he had still considered Batman a reliable ally —how ironic—, and to discover the man who claims to fight for justice and peace it’s in truth a hater with prejudices… Well, it was a lot to take in.

But now it made sense. He’d seen Batman work with the Red Hood a few times, and he knew he was a part of the ‘bat-family’ due to the red bat symbol embedded in his chest. He’d also seen how cold Batman was with him unlike the others, like Nightwing, or Robin, or Batgirl.

He also knew Red Hood was involved in some kind of a romantic mess with Arsenal, as Green Arrow once told him in passing.

“I’m surprised Batman hasn’t threatened you already.” Flash mentioned so casually as if he were talking about the weather. “Or has he?”

“What?” Clark turned to see him, his cape slightly billowing. “Why would he do that?”

“Because you slept with his boyfriend?”

Clark had to rewire his brain for a second. “What did you say?”

“Oh, come on!” Flash gestured with his hands, bits of granola flying around from the bar he was eating. “It’s common knowledge those two are dating, how do you think Spooky gets all his toys?”

It would explain why Batman has suddenly turned so hostile against him.

But it doesn’t explain why he’s also cold and hostile with the other guy who’s also dating a man. And he didn’t want to believe sweet Bruce would cheat like that. At least, he didn’t seem the type the other night.

But then why Bruce would still flirt so carelessly if he was dating him? Could it be to throw off all those rumours about them? Because it would explain why he’s getting kidnapped so frequently.

But even behind closed doors, he still wanted to sleep with him.

This is all a mess.

He’s a mess.

He should go to the one person that could have the answers.

Even though he’d decided to never come back to this city if he could help it, he still found himself taking a bus towards Gotham city. It would be way easier to get there flying than having to spend an hour and a half in an uncomfortable bus seat, but if he wanted to do this, he would need to be laying low as much as possible to avoid detection from the bat.

It didn’t take long to find the man he was looking for, he simply had to keep an open ear for any kind of gunshots he could hear, as he knew the vigilante wasn’t opposed to using guns. Clark was concerned about the number of gunshots he heard in one night in different parts of the city.

“Red Hood.” Clark said before the man could get on his bike and drive away.

“Boy scout.” The robotic voice from the helmet’s modulator reached him. He leaned on his bike, his arms crossed. “What brings the man of tomorrow to our lovely, green city?”

He ignored the sarcasm, walking closer to him. “We need to talk.”

“About…?”

“I know about you and Arsenal.”

It was hard to gauge a reaction out of him with the helmet on. The man kept quiet for several seconds.

“And that concerns you, because…?”

“I… First, I want to say that it’s alright. And if you ever feel that you’re not safe, you can always count on me if you need help.” Clark was able to hear the small ‘what the fuck’ coming out of the helmet. “I don’t know what the extent of your relationship with Batman is, if he’s your father or just a mentor, but whatever it is, you shouldn’t have to be shunned for being yourself.”

“Look, man, I appreciate the feelings and whatever. But I must know, what the fuck you’re talking ‘bout?”

“I… I thought Batman was mistreating you because you’re dating a man?”

“What?” The robotic voice was high pitched, a low chuckle coming out. “You think B’s homophobic?”

“He’s not?”

“Of course not. Hell, me dating Arsenal is probably the only thing he’s approved of me ever since I came back.”

Clark wasn’t sure what he meant for ‘came back’, but it wasn’t something of importance right now.

“But then… Oh, so the rumours are true?” He couldn’t help but feel even more disappointed, because that also meant that Bruce had tried to sleep with him even though he’s dating someone else, and he’s also gotten on the bad side of Batman. His voice had gotten small at the end, clearing his throat to hide that fact.

“What rumours?”

“Batman’s dating Bruce Wayne.”

This time, Hood’s boisterous laughter was heard through the whole alley, having to place his hands on his knees for support.

“You’re on your own, boy scout.”

𓆩𓆪

Several weeks had gone by since the gala fiasco, and Bruce had already been kidnapped twice, his lucky star —or as lucky as it could be—, had helped him leave unscathed just a couple hours later.

Of course, Clark would only find out about this when the news would report it in the evening news, as he hadn’t been in Gotham again since the night he met with Red Hood.

“Batman.” Clark greeted him when he saw the man walking into the Observation Deck. Tonight, they were both going to be alone for the night watch.

He hadn’t seen the vigilante in a while, as the man was ever busy with all the criminals running rampant in Gotham since they escaped the asylum a couple of weeks ago.  He and Wonder Woman had offered help, of course, but being the stubborn bat that he was, he never accepted, despising the presence of other supers in his city.

Which was the topic he wanted to talk about.

“Superman.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of me being in Gotham a month ago. I know you don’t like it when we step foot in your city, but I… I was visiting some friends, and happened to hear the screaming, I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. I hope you understand.”

The man had continued walking to the computer, ready for a night of sitting down in front of the screen until sunrise, waiting for an attack to happen, and not once acknowledged the kryptonian, besides the slight twitch on his fingers, not visible for the human sight, but enough for him.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

With a sigh, Clark sat on the air with his legs crossed, hovering a meter over the floor, looking at the Earth through the windows surrounding the deck.

An hour had turned into two, then into three, all spent in complete silence.

“I apologize for my comment the other day.” Clark settled on talking about the elephant in the room rather than continue like this. “I didn’t know you two were…”

“What are you talking about?”

He was going to make him say it, didn’t he?

“You, and Bruce. I didn’t know you two were a thing. And you don’t have to worry about me, I won’t get in the way of you two.”

“We’re not… You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” Clark stood, walking towards the bat, his voice louder than it should. “Because then I don’t know why you’ve been acting so cold towards me, even more than usual. If you hate me because I kissed the man you’re dating or if you hate me because you’re a bigoted idiot, then please, let me know and stop with these childish attitudes.”

He waited one, two, three seconds and the man had barely even tried to face him, although he’d stopped tipping in the computer, but he didn’t say anything. “Figures.” Clark scoffed, turning around and ready to leave the deck to stay the night in any other part of the watchtower.

“Clark.” It wasn’t just that Batman talked that made him stop, but the fact that he used his civilian name.

And when he turned, he certainly wasn’t expecting to see the man without his cowl.

“Bruce?”

“I don’t hate you.” The man who spoke wasn’t Batman, nor it was Brucie. It was simply… Bruce, the real man that probably few people got to meet, probably just his family. “Quite the opposite.”

Taking long strides, Bat—Bruce walked until he was so close to him, they could almost melt into each other, placing his hands on his cheeks. He didn’t need to stand on his tiptoes this time, as the suit added him quite a few centimeters more. “Totally the opposite.”

And then, he kissed him.