#He uses Clark as a sponsor

[idontwannatalkboutitok]

Superman, receiving a phone call

Superman: Batman?

Batman : Nnhg.

Superman : Batman, no.

Batman : ...

Superman : Batman. Friend. It's unhealthy. Please, consider-

Batman: The papers are in front of me, Clark

Superman : Oh, frick. Listen to me. You're stronger than this. You can walk away.

Batman: But..

Superman: No buts, put the papers away. Now, please.

Batman: ... Okay.

Superman, with a relieved sigh: Good. You're doing amazing, Bruce. See? You don't need to impulsively adopt as a coping mechanism anymore! You could even give therapy a go one of these days, and-

Noise of pen on paper

Superman, definitely annoyed: Really?

Batman: Nnhg.

[neilsbeloved]

mess up your white tee (i’ll do you dirty)

summary: driving back to the kent farm after your internship, you see your boyfriend in his tight white tee… drenched in sweat. (inspos: this p-link + this tiktok)

warnings: MATURE (18+) / pure smut w light fluff / no plot, just clark wearing a white shirt / excessive description about cocks and dicks / overstimulation / oral (m) / groping / established relationship / no penetration / mild dirty talk / reader is ovulating, clark is free-use / semi-public sex (someone walks in)

a/n: oh my lawwwd this might be my best smut piece yet !!! pls do not hesitate to comment your thoughts & reactions, it motivates me a lot when u guys enjoy my work :3

gifs from @/zanephillips !

The front door of the Kent house jingles on your arrival.

The smell of Martha Kent's town-famous pies infiltrating your nostrils as soon as you entered the door. Martha, who usually was out of the house most of the time, seemed to have some spare time because she's baking again.

And God knows how happy you are that she is.

"Sweetheart, I set you aside some pies and muffins for you and Clark to eat over the weekend," Martha says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek like a mother would. "I have to go to New York with Lionel for a charity ball… you know we need the sponsors."

You hum, taking a utensil from the drawer to eat the sliced pie on the counter. "That's great, Mrs. Kent! Though I'm not sure Clark'd appreciate you going with Lionel."

"I know," she sighs. "But it's what I gotta do. I can't run the senate seat without sponsors, we need the funding."

The moment you feel the pie melt into your mouth, you're done for. You moan loudly, jerking your fork back and forth making Martha laugh.

"Sorry—have you told Clark about it?" You lean on the counter, voice slightly stuffed as you continued eating.

Martha shakes her head, "Still trying the right time to."

She sets the topic aside, beginning to talk about things happening in the senate. Both of you occasionally laughing when she talks about something particularly ridiculous that the other senators do.

It was a sweet and lighthearted conversation you had with your boyfriend's mother; it always is. Aside from the incredible being that is Clark Kent, you're also thankful that he had such a cool mother and a wonderful father behind him. Makes you feel all the more lucky to be part of such a family.

When you finish your pie, you feel a lot more rejuvenated. Like you could take on the world. Let fate give you their biggest challenge, who cares?

"Want another slice? I have one more—"

You spot Clark come out of the tool shed through the kitchen window, the white shirt he had on was littered with black stains and possibly some oil grease. The fabric clinging onto his body like second skin, barely letting his biceps breathe as he hoisted up some tool his shoulders, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he began heading elsewhere.

Your mouth waters, mind drifting off to the image of Clark underneath you, utterly ruined and glistening with sweat. Hips stuttering, cock begging to be tended to.

Sorry Martha Kent, I just found something else I wanna eat.

"Actually, I'll eat the last piece later with Clark," you tell her, putting on a sweet, innocent smile on your face. "D'you happen to know where he is?"

Martha's mouth forms an 'o', looking behind her to glance through the window. "I think he was at the shed earlier… you should probably go check the barn. I think he's fixing up something there."

You were already by the door when she finished, waving happily. "Thanks!"

A loud mechanical sound comes from the barn, practically reverberating all throughout the farm with how loud it was. You clasp your hands behind your back, discreetly walking inside only to see the first floor empty.

Your eyebrows furrow confusedly, hands coming apart to grip the strap of your bag, looking around the area for your white-shirt wearing hunk.

"You got home early," a voice comes from above.

You immediately looked up, an amused scoff coming from you as Clark leaned down on the wooden rails, grinning at you endearingly.

"Didn't you miss me?" You ask teasingly, face beaming as you made your way to the stairs, meeting with him at the center. Arms immediately thrown upwards to pull him close. Clark chuckles, not expecting you to lunge yourself towards him. Definitely not when he's sweaty and dirty.

But that's how you like him—sweaty and dirty.

"I missed you real bad, sweets. It was—oh—hard fixing the farm without a human radio beside me," Clark grunts in the middle of his sentence, suddenly feeling your hand over his clothed member, rubbing him gently through his jeans. "You okay? I just… I just finished bringing some heavy stuff up the loft and it's…"

Clark's words trail off as you began kissing the thick column of his neck. Messily licking the sweaty skin while your hand continues massaging him, your other one resting on his shoulder.

You feel his chest heave. A low, almost silent, groan leaving his mouth the moment you bite on the spot between his neck and collarbone, same time as you pull at the hairs on the back of his neck with your free hand.

The manly smell of sweat oozing off of him has you grinding your body on his. The hand you previously had on his center, slowly moving up and under his white shirt. His firm abs flexing under your touch.

Just as his eyes roll back, he snaps into reality, pulling away haphazardly.

"B-baby! What's gotten into you?" Clark laughs shakily, confused at the suddenness of your actions. "Look, I'm all dirty," he moves his arm up to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. "Let me take a quick shower and we can continue this, alright?"

Your face drops, "No."

He laughs again, this time with an expression that has you rolling your eyes. He stared at you like the word no was the least of his expected responses. "What do you mean no? Baby, I'm all sweaty—look, my shirt's dirty. I'm dripping of sweat, sweetheart, your clothes gonna get all messed up."

The smile he offers to you was a consoling one. Telling you that he'd really wouldn't want you to be with him in such a state wherein he's not clean and spotless.

You look at him through your lashes, lips separating as you stood on your tiptoes, moving close to his ear while he quickly leans down to your touch. "All the more reason to let me suck your cock, Clark."

When you pull back, you grin devilishly when Clark looks at you with bewildered eyes. His adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably. You push him back onto the steps of the loft, his body falling defenselessly on the top section of the stairs, the two of you hidden by just a few wooden panels.

Clark swallows on nothing, the heat of your voice has blood rushing into his cock, jeans tightening quicker than usual. You throw your bag somewhere in the loft, the rattle of your things being the least of your worries.

You turn to Clark, taking one more look at him; sweaty, flushed, and very much aroused. The evident bulge in his pants and shirt has you drooling.

You climb on top of him, Clark's hand immediately holding your body to make sure you won't fall back. You kiss him with much hunger in you, aggressively swiping your tongue and biting his bottom lip.

Your hips grind on his clothed cock, the rough material of his jeans making you mewl into the kiss. Clark lets you in without a fight, tongue tangling itself with yours as he has his own exploration underneath your top. Big, manly hands cupping your breasts through your bra.

You grind even harder on his cock, a coil building up in your core despite the two of you still fully clothed. You pull your hand up to slide underneath the waistband of his pants, feeling the weight of his hardening cock on your hand. The fabric of his boxers slowly getting wet by the tip.

Clark pulls away to let out a rough whimper, raspy and breathy, his forehead scrunching up with the way you jerk him softly through his boxers. The sound makes you feel hotter, urging you to ruin him even more.

The two of you separate for a brief moment, Clark's hands immediately moving to take off his white shirt, already holding the hem when you put your hand over his. You shake your head, smirking.

"Shirt stays on, handsome," you wink at him, leaning down to kiss the firm center of his chest, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

Clark throws his head back, grunting. You take the moment to hop off of his lap and pull his jeans just past down his knees. Clark helping you out to quicken the process, now equally as aroused as you are… probably even more.

His boxers tent shamelessly, the thin piece of blue fabric failing to hide the outline of his dick as you make out a darker colored blue right at the tip. Your mouth waters at the thought of his cock leaking just for you.

You pull down the waistband of his boxers, completely captivated at the way his cock proudly stands up, just barely hitting past your lips. The ridiculous size of it has you clenching your legs together, doing your best to fight the urge to just take him right then and there.

However, you had other plans, some that supersedes the ache between your thighs… like making sure Clark Kent remembers never to wear a white shirt when you're coming over.

His cock twitches on its own, the tip pulsing with an angry shade of red. It was so hard, you swore it looked like hurt. And for Clark, it actually did—even more so when you stare at it like it's the only thing you ever wanted. His hips move impatiently, Clark doing his best to stop himself from grabbing you and doing the job himself.

Finally, your hand cautiously grabs his shaft, involuntarily licking your lips at you began jerking it off, testing the waters as you flicked your eyes up to your boyfriend.

Clark's barely hanging on. His mind is going dizzier and dizzier by the second. Feeling his sanity hang by a single thread now that you're starting to move your hand even faster. Trying to hold in the moan in his throat when you put your lips around his tip, rolling your tongue around the fat head of his cock.

The salty taste of his pre-cum made you sigh contentedly, the vibration in your mouth making him twitch.

"You taste so fucking good, baby," you rasp, holding out your tongue to lick one thick stripe on the underside of his cock. Making sure you keep your eyes locked with his, not letting him miss a single moment of your version of heaven-on-earth.

"Oh God," Clark groans, now slightly high-pitched. His eyebrows furrowing upwards, lips falling apart.

He stays there, incapable of looking away from you as your tongue began slobbering all over his cock. Tasting and tracing every vein that trail from it, like an artist mimicking lines for their piece.

You take him in your mouth, slowly and deliberately, making sure to breathe through your nose as you already feel him at the back of your throat, lips stretched to the max as you did your best to take him in, both in length and in girth.

Clark's cock is only halfway inside of your mouth when you gag, the tip hitting the back of your throat making you swallow involuntarily. His hips jerk up, chasing after the tightness of your throat as the sound finally escapes his mouth.

The sound. The whimper.

It was brief, quiet, and subtle, you wouldn't have caught it any other day but fortunately today wasn't those days. The sound makes your insides swell as Clark finally falls back on steps defeatedly. His arms stretching to the back of his head, his biceps spilling out of the sleeves of his shirt, the thought of the fabric ripping because of it making you even more motivated.

You pull off his cock with a loud breath, gasping like you had just been submerged underwater way longer than you should have been. Your hand moves up and down the remainder of his cock—the part you didn't manage to suck—your other hand coming to your lips as you spat on it loudly.

A grin comes onto your lips, Clark's eyes rolling to the back of his head when he watches you rub your spit all over his cock. Making sure every inch of him is covered by you.

You put him back in your mouth, this time having an easier time fitting him in. When you began bobbing your head up and down his cock, tongue licking the shaft, Clark's unable to control his moans. Whimpers and whines spilling from his mouth, clearly trying to use whatever sanity he has to manage the volume of his sounds.

You don't want him to, though. You want him utterly wrecked, broken, head too deep in the pleasure to even worry about who hears his beautiful sounds.

"Fuck, baby—oh god, that's…" Your sudden hand on his balls has him moving uncontrollably. Clark pulling himself up to prop on his elbows, lips red from biting it over and over again, his lust-blown eyes staring at where your hand fondled with him.

He drops his head back, feeling you swallow around his cock. One hand stroking him event faster, the other massaging his balls. Everything around him begins to blur as he slowly loses the reins of his mind.

You let him thrust inside of your mouth, keeping your breath going through your nose, letting him hear the loud and dirty sound of your gagging.

"O-oh!" He gasps loudly, eyes closing shut when you moan around his cock. Slipping off for a second to run your tongue over his bails, popping each one in your mouth before taking his cock back in. "Fuck, that feels so good baby. Don't—mhmm—don't stop, baby, please, right there."

You don't stop the smile that tries to come on your lips, every time your name slips from his mouth is like an angel whispering to you the greatest of songs.

Clark's control disappears. Abandoning his care for anything else besides you on his cock.

You do a quick motion to pull his shirt back just a bit, giving yourself some eye candy—his sweaty abs flexing—as you hurriedly try to push him off the ledge.

Clark grabs the hem of his shirt, almost pulling off his white shirt when you stop him. "I said it stays on, handsome."

He groans, dropping the fabric from his hands and putting them on either side of your head. The moment he does, you know he's got nothing else on his mind now aside from getting himself off.

Clark begins to chase after his own release. Hips thrusting into your mouth with a roughness that has you stuck on the spot. Eyes watching every strain of muscle in his features. His cock hits the back of your throat multiple times but you didn't care. Not even a bit.

All you cared about, at the moment, was letting him finish himself, letting out every bit of frustration he has about the world inside the warm inside of your lips.

"There, shit—nnghf, fuck, stay like that baby," Clark says, whiney and breathy. Pleas of your name falling endlessly.

He feels the coil in his lower stomach twist even harder. The familiar white spots appearing in his vision as he clenches his teeth together, doing his best to tip himself off the edge without accidentally hurting you.

When your fingers tighten around the base of his cock, just enough to give him mind-dizzying pressure, he looks down. Your eyes locking with his in the most erotic way you could. Then he lets go.

Clark's lips split open to let out one of the deepest groan you ever heard from him. Ropes of his cum coating the inside of your mouth as he rides out his high, grunting and whimpering every time his dick touched the softness of your cheeks.

"Shit, that was… Oh fuck," he sighs, slowly coming back down to Earth as he looks around.

You grin at him, holding your tongue out to show him his masterpiece. "Baby." he says, running his hands through his hair as the aftershocks of his orgasm still made his thighs clench.

You swallow his cum without a question. Throwing your hair to the side as you shifted in your place, peeling off your panties from underneath your skirt.

Clark smirks lazily, thinking he knows what comes next.

Unfortunately for him, you weren't done yet.

You throw your panty over to him, Clark catching it with ease before he holds it close to his face, just enough to get a whiff of your wetness on it. His eyes darkening the moment he sees it absolutely drenched.

"You did so good for me, handsome," you purr, coming on top of him to nip at the neckline of his shirt. Licking the beads of sweat twinkling down his neck. The salty taste of the liquid making you hum contentedly. "So fucking good."

"Let me take care of you now, sweets. Must be so drenched for me, huh?" Clark tries to slide off your top, running his hands all over your sides.

You chuckle, the glint in your eyes telling him something different. "I'm not done with you yet, baby. Just relax for me, m'kay?"

You sit back up, sitting on top of his thighs, your skirt bunched around your hips to give Clark a sight of what's happening to you underneath that composed facade of yours.

Clark watches you with anticipation, tongue coming out to lick his lips as he tries to prop himself up with his elbows again.

"H-hey!" Clark stutters, eyes widening when your hands grab his cock again. It was still hard, leaking, and even aching. You're not sure just one release gets the job done. "Sweets, I just came…" he breathes, voice cautiously low. "It's your turn now, c'mon. Let me take care of you." He tries to pull you up from your position, maybe even have you sit on his face as a way to return the favor.

You don't budge though. You slap his hand away with your free one, leaning down to put your face beside his cock. The lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out your palm paired with the subtle tingles of overstimulation, and your erotic eyes, it gets the same fire inside of him burning again.

"Just give me one more, Clark. One more and I'll let you take me," you pause, tilting your head to his cock, spitting on it loudly, "…however you want."

Clark glares at you, jaw clenched and body tense, his eyes holding a sense of determination that tells you he's not turning down your offer.

A proud smile comes on your lips, giving the base of his cock one kiss before you start jerking him off. Using your spit and his pre-cum to slide it smoothly. You use both of your hands now, one at the top focusing on his tip, while the other moved up and down his length.

"Mhfm," Clark groaned, his tip being too sensitive right now. His face getting warmer by the second, body clenching uncontrollably. "B-baby, it's… oh… fuck."

"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow, taking your hands off abruptly making him thrust upwards into nothing.

He looks at you wide-eyed, shocked and confused. You only chuckle at him, slowly placing your hand by his face, open palm by his mouth. Clark stares at you, awaiting your word.

"Spit." Clark gathers up his saliva for a second before spitting it all in your hand.

You smile, thanking him sweetly before you went back to your position. Letting the feeling in his stomach subside before placing your hands back. The hand with his spit placed over his tip, swirling his own liquid around the engorged head.

It was right then did Clark understand how fucked he was. How fucking dirty all of this is.

Worst of it all, he can't even do anything. He's fully at your mercy. Having to take everything you're giving to him without a complaint.

You find your pace, wasting no time to finally get that second release you desperately wanted from him.

Clark doesn't fight it anymore. He lets out every groan, whimper, and moan he has in him. Your name being at the top of the his lungs as he continuously called out for you, begging and pleading to let him come.

"Please, baby, I'm—I'm almost there baby."

"You gonna come f'me?" You tease, batting your eyelashes innocently.

"Uh-huh, keep going," Clark nods repeatedly, his features scrunching up as he feels it start to hurt, start to tingle. Somewhere between the pain and pleasure of the overwhelming sensation—that's where he is. Almost at the top. "Yes, baby, just like that."

You decide not to torture him even more, letting him have his release as you continued to move your hands with a faster pace. The sounds of his cries slowly getting louder.

Then, you hear a voice downstairs.

"Clark? You there sweetheart?" Martha Kent.

His eyes shoot open, hand immediately slapping over his mouth to stop his own moans. He looks to you with panic, but you only smile wider.

"I've finished baking!" Martha called again. Apparently she's been looking for you as well. "When you find her, head to the kitchen, alright? I tried a new recipe for my muffins, try 'em out."

You swiftly, and carefully, move to his ear, whispering: "Answer her."

He shakes his head, "No," he says quietly.

"Now," you say, dropping one hand from his length to his balls.

Clark's eyes roll back, taking his hand off of his mouth. "Y-yeah, mom, we'll check… check it out in a bit!"

His voice was shaky, but you applaud him from even trying. Staring at him proudly, stars dancing in your eyes as you hear Martha's great! see you! in the back, footsteps slowly disappearing.

Clark releases all over your hand the moment you sit back on his thighs, wet slit touching his bare thigh. An aching and almost painful groan ripped away from his throat as more strings of cum shoot out of his cock. Generously falling down the tip and onto the base.

Clark's breathing heavily now. Chest moving up and down after what felt to be like the last orgasm in his lifeline. It was so strong—so intense, he couldn't even wrap his head around what just happened.

Why you were still smiling at him as your tongue licked up the cum dripping on his length, as if you didn't just swallow it minutes ago.

You clean him up, his cock finally softening just a bit in your hold. You move up to him, resting your chin on chest. "You’re so pretty."

Clark's weak scoff enters your ear. Arm weakly wrapping around your back. "Have I been neglecting you or what?"

You laugh at him, kissing his lips lightly. "Never stop wearing white shirts."

When you start rolling away to get up, Clark tightens his hold on you.

"Oh, baby," he shakes his head, tongue poking at his cheek. "You're not getting off that easily. Up the loft, c'mon. It's my turn."

hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo

[lailalalesisblog]

Clark Kent Is Dating an Influencer (And Other Lies Lois Refuses to Believe)

Clark kent x influencer reader

In which Jimmy and Lois think Clark is being catfished

If you asked Jimmy Olsen when he first started suspecting Clark Kent was lying to all of them, he’d say, “Wednesday. Around 11:03 a.m., give or take a minute. I’d just microwaved leftover dumplings.”

But even Jimmy knows that’s not true.

It started earlier. Much earlier.

It began the Monday after Clark claimed to have taken a “quiet weekend upstate.” He returned to the bullpen suspiciously well-rested, humming as he typed, smiling at his phone like it was sending him love notes. His texts—normally one-thumbed and typo-ridden—were now quick and fluid, peppered with emojis he used correctly.

That was red flag number one. Clark Kent doesn’t do emojis.

Red flag number two: the man who once referred to Bluetooth as "blue teeth" was now using the term “photo dump” in casual conversation.

Then came the biggest red flag of all.

“I'm seeing someone,” he said during their Monday morning coffee run, voice gentle, like he wasn’t just dropping a conversational nuke.

Jimmy nearly dropped his latte. Lois froze mid-sip.

“You’re… dating?” she asked, tilting her head slowly. “As in, mutual romantic interest dating?”

Clark blinked. “Yes?”

“And this isn’t, like, a metaphysical concept? You’re not writing a feature on intimacy in the digital age? You mean you, Clark Kent, are dating a person who… exists?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “Her name’s [Your Name].”

Lois’s brow arched so high it could’ve brushed the ceiling tiles. “[Your Name] as in… 15.6 million followers, cover of Vogue, skincare line, works with that designer who refuses to dress anyone with fewer than five Ivy League degrees?”

Clark nodded. “That’s her.”

Lois put her coffee down slowly, deliberately. “Okay,” she said. “Bold lie. Respect.”

“I’m not lying.”

Jimmy peered at Clark over his glasses. “You said you met her in real life. Not DMs. Not a dream you had during a NyQuil coma. Real life.”

“We’ve been on three dates,” Clark said, crossing his arms like he was bracing for a hurricane. “Coffee. Bookstore. Pizza in Metropolis Heights. She even paid once.”

Lois squinted at him. “Three dates. With a verified influencer who wears La Perla robes to drink turmeric tea on balconies in Santorini. Who has not posted one blurry elbow shot. No mysterious extra wine glass. Not even a cryptic soft launch?”

“She likes to keep things private.”

Jimmy snorted. “She posted her cuticles last week, Clark.”

Clark looked uncomfortable. “She said she didn’t want to commodify our relationship.”

“Clark,” Lois said, slowly and gently, like she was addressing a patient in a psych ward. “She sells sponsored yoga mats. She commodified breathing.”

Still, Clark held his ground, eyes soft and stubborn behind his glasses. “She said it feels real with me. Normal. That she didn’t want to ruin it by putting it online.”

Which, frankly, was romantic enough to throw both Lois and Jimmy off their game for a full three seconds.

Three seconds only.

Then the real investigation began.

The Inquiry (a.k.a. We’re Not Spying, We’re Fact-Checking)

By Friday, the bullpen had become an amateur intelligence agency. Jimmy had a corkboard with push-pinned printouts of [Your Name]’s recent posts. Lois was triangulating timestamps and flight itineraries like she was breaking a national security scandal.

“She tagged herself at that rooftop brunch spot Sunday,” Jimmy whispered, holding up his phone. “Clark said they were at a used bookstore.”

“She posted a flat white with oat milk,” Lois murmured, scrolling. “Caption: ‘Solo Sundays are sacred.’ With a heart emoji.”

Jimmy nodded solemnly. “Clark is the heart emoji.”

Lois frowned. “Clark is the absence of the heart emoji.”

Clark, meanwhile, was calmly editing copy, sipping coffee like he wasn’t under an active, office-wide surveillance initiative. Which made it worse. The audacity.

So they staged the only intervention journalists know how to do: a coffee break ambush.

The Confrontation

Clark had just stirred two sugars into his coffee when Lois leaned against the counter next to him, too casual to be casual.

“Big weekend plans?” she asked.

Jimmy materialized behind her, voice far too innocent. “Another one of your invisible dates?”

Clark sighed, long-suffering. “This again?”

“She’s not invisible,” Lois said, sipping her coffee. “She’s just suspiciously undocumented.”

“I’m not dating Bigfoot.”

“No,” Jimmy said. “You’re dating someone statistically less likely to exist than Bigfoot.”

Clark turned, exasperated. “She’s real.”

“She’s real,” Lois repeated. “But we’ve never seen her. Never heard from her. She hasn’t even soft-launched you with a blurry shoulder shot.”

“She wants to keep our relationship offline.”

“She filmed a skincare tutorial from a hot air balloon last month, Clark.”

Clark groaned. “Why is this anyone’s business?”

“Because we care,” Jimmy said, nodding sagely.

“Because we’re worried,” Lois added. “About your heart. And your passwords.”

“She’s not scamming me.”

“You wouldn’t know,” Jimmy said. “Have you even video chatted?”

“I have a photo,” Clark muttered.

“Show us,” Lois and Jimmy said in unison.

“No.”

A pause.

Lois narrowed her eyes. “Clark. Are you being catfished in person? Is that a thing now?”

Clark looked genuinely pained. “No! I’m not being catfished. She just… likes that I’m not like everyone else in her life. She says I feel normal. I don’t treat her like a product. She doesn’t have to pose for me. She can just… be.”

Lois stared at him, eyes squinting, but there was a crack of something softer in her gaze now. Not quite belief. But not pure doubt, either.

“She really said that?”

Clark nodded. “She doesn’t care about clicks. She cares about me.”

Jimmy opened his mouth, then paused. “Okay, but… like, if she is real… what’s her skincare routine? Because her skin glows like—”

“Jimmy.”

“Right. Sorry.”

The Resolution (For Now)

Lois didn’t quite drop the issue. But she did back off—for now.

Jimmy kept his corkboard. He called it “The Truth About Clark’s Alleged Love Life,” but he stopped adding to it after he saw Clark smile at his phone during lunch, cheeks flushed the way they only ever got when he talked about her.

And eventually, on a random Tuesday, a blurry photo did appear. Just a pair of glasses and a half-visible smile in a mirror behind [Your Name]—captioned "This one's mine. He likes bookstores and oat milk and asks too many questions. Don’t tell him I said that."

Lois liked it immediately.

Jimmy commented, “You exist!!! 🎉”

And Clark?

Clark just smiled and went back to whistling.

----

@animegamerfox

[emacrow]

Jazz sat in the couch, with Dani chewing on a snack bar provided by Clark, her once ginger hair that drooy with a growing line of purple flicking like fire at the end.

The silence was short as Clark spoke, tied up in a chair with his hand and legs tied to the arms and legs of the chair.

"What happened here, Jazz-?" Clark said, concerned as Jazz shush him, rocking the fussy baby.

She look up to him with dead looking eyes and caution written all over her face.

"The GIW is what happened a year ago when Mom and Dad accepted danny after he revealed himself to them about being a halfa on his birthday, they wanted to tell you the news, but the power was out for weeks for some reasons... The town was arming together once the word spread about danny to overthrown GIW, who was sponsored by the government as they were getting out of hands, cutting out electricity and other people driving in to delivery food and water or let anyone out of their own homes.

"But it was a set up the moment they left one day, some of the town folks tried to leave town to get help, only to find bloodblossomed covered steel fences and an anti-ghost forcefield cover the town. The GIW supposedly told the government and the Justice League that the whole Amity Park was contaimnented with a virus that can revive the dead after giving false evidence video that Tucker used to scared them off months ago.

They had it almost all wrong, but Almost everyone were contaminated with ectoplasm due to the portal being open so long in the town and being in the Ghost Zone for too long after the Pariah King incident that everyone was liminal. Nobody could touch the fence that they build all the way under the town thanks to the wreaked area before or get past the force field.. except Mom, who slipped out easily to get help, saying that you can help us because there was no way you would allow this to happen... but

Clark could feel his heart drop to what Jazzy said next.

.. they got to her before calling your number, spoting her at the wrong time, dragging her body away while they talked about examining her inside as if she were not human in their eyes..." Jazz said, her voice quieten a bit, rubbing her moisten eye with Dani patting her leg softly.

"Danny and Team Phantom thought that if they go through the portal, they could get to Vlad’s manor, but his portal inactive.., so we thought of the next best thing was to defend ourselves before they could kill everyone else, too.." Jazz explained a bit sniff a bit, her hair intensifying darker purple as she got emotional. Clark could hear her heart skipping a bit.

"Danny led everyone because Amity Park town wasn't going down without a fight the moment the GIW brought their own army to take everyone out, some of our good friends and former enemies didnt make it, Mr. Lancer, Star, Technu, Dad.. Danny went feral at the point that he was literally tearing them apart despite more kept coming into the town.. this has been going for 1 year and 8 months now.

There was no food by the time half a year went by that Frostbite offered, giving everyone some food from the ghost zone, though it had side effects. Everyone was too hungry to care about the side effects. It was better than eating one another..

Jazz laughed a bit bitterly to herself as she continued on.

"There was few remaining these scums sneaking around Town afterward when we nearly busted the Fence hard enough with their own vehicles that most of them retreat for now with the force field deactivate, but they got Danny real good with one of Dad's old invention a few months ago, but then most of us escape and spread out into hiding, the A team, phantom Team stayed to destroy the any evidence of Ghost info in the lab before we leave today..." Jazz finished explaining before looking up at her Uncle Clark, her eyes looking dull greenish blue after she put danny back in the baby sling, gripping the Glowing Green fenton bat covered in spikes and dried blood. Her eyes glowing redder then a ruby.

"Now I have only one question for you. Why did Justice League ignore our calls for help despite our numerous emergency calls."

Part 1 link Here <- Cliffhanger for good :)

[im-lost-in-ikea]

Sponsored by my MRI results taking forever to get back, you ever think about who's reading the X-rays and MRI's and such for the bat family?

I don't know what it is in canon, but in so many fics Bruce is rich enough to have MRI machines and such in the cave, which I'm sure he is, but who's reading it?

I'm sure Alfred or Leslie could bs their way through an X-ray, but an MRI? A CT scan? No way.

Look I've seen a lot of scans in my day. I've done my best to read them with the power of a god complex and Google. I refuse to believe anyone without an 8 year degree in radiology can read them.

And look, I know their all geniuses. This ain't about genius. It's about experience. That none of them have.

Which leaves us with two options. Bruce is sending them out to some poor private radiology company who's just wondering who TF is paying them billions to tell them just how screwed up their bodies frequently are.

Or, Bruce is stubbornly refusing to believe this, and their all walking around with even more untreated injuries then they think.

This also raises questions about Clark. Sure, he has X-ray vision, but that don't mean crap if you can't understand what your looking at. Is he secretly a doctor, or bsing everyone?

[jinkoph03nix]

So. I made some bad decisions and a DC comics Formula 1 AU is the result of them. More info under the cut I guess lol.

TEAMS

Note: this is a no capes AU, and all sponsor companies are neutral parties because of it.

Wayne Industries (makes engines)

Bruce “Batman” Wayne

Tim Drake

Damian Wayne (backup)

Dick Grayson (former driver, no longer associated)

Jason Todd (former driver, retired due to injury)

Lexcorp (makes engines)

Clark “Superman” Kent

Conner Kent

Jon Kent (backup)

Queen Industries (makes engines)

Oliver “Green Arrow” Queen

Roy “Arsenal” Harper

Artemis Crock (backup)

Star Labs (makes engines)

Barry “Flash” Allen

Wally “Flamebird” West

Bart “Impulse” Allen (backup)

Atlantis (uses Star engines)

Kaldur’ahm/Jackson “Manta” Hyde

Garth “Tempest” Ranzz

Arthur “Aquaman” Curry (former driver, retired, now team lead)

Themyscira (uses Wayne engines) 

Donna Troy

Cassie Sandsmark

Diana “Wonder Woman” Prince (former driver, retired, now team lead)

Lantern Corps (uses Lex engines)

Hal Jordan

John Stewart

Kyle Rayner (backup)

Zatara (uses Wayne engines)

Zatanna Zatara

John Constantine

Kord Industries (makes engines)

Ted Kord

Jaime Reyes

Hawks (uses Lex engines)

Carter Hall

Shayera Hol

DYNAMICS

TEAM

Hawks and Zatara are relatively low performing teams, but have loyal fans that root for them as underdogs.

Kord makes its own engines but has only started recently, and used to be a relatively low performing team but has begun to make progress.

Lantern Corps, Themyscira, and Atlantis are all solidly performing and occasionally make it to top spots.

Wayne, Lex, Star, and Queen are all top performers, and all make their own engines. 

Wayne tends to perform the best overall and has the largest fanbase, but also has some of the most vocal critics, including some coming from inside the house.

INTERPERSONAL

Dick Grayson used to drive for Wayne but is now retired and fully supports his boyfriend Wally West's team, which initially caused a scandal when they started dating.

Jason Todd also used to drive for Wayne but got seriously injured during a race, prematurely ending his career. Nowadays, he's mostly out of the public spotlight.

Jason is also secretly dating Roy Harper, but the public has not found out yet.

Kaldur'ahm and Garth have the fiercest intra-team rivalry in the league, but it mainly stays on the racetrack.

Tim Drake and Conner Kent have the most public inter-team rivalry, but also regularly flirt with each other. The internet eats it up.

Roy and Wally have somewhat of a rivalry, but it’s less obvious to those on the outside.

Hal and Barry also have a bit of a rivalry during races, but are close friends outside of them.

Tim Drake and Damian Wayne have a very big rivalry but because Damian is consistently a backup driver, it normally does not gain much publicity. They, however, do not limit their rivalry to the race track.

Donna and Dick used to be rivals, but are now good friends and work together helping F1 Academy.

Bruce and Clark are constantly rumored to be secretly dating, but these rumors are unfounded (at least for now). They do not consider each other rivals beyond being the two drivers consistently vying for the top spot in races.

Jaime and Bart are really close friends, but rarely race each other because Bart is a backup driver. They hang out a lot in the paddock, however, and fans love their interactions.

Arthur and Diana used to have a massive rivalry, and it has continued into them both being team managers.

People speculated that Dick would’ve been contracted by Lex if he had kept driving, as he was pretty good friends with Clark especially.

PERSONAL

Bruce and Clark are hailed as the best two drivers on the track currently, and both have massive fan bases.

All of the Wayne drivers tend to be more serious/argumentative over comms, and are very competitive.

Bruce and Tim are a powerhouse for racing strategy, and their calls are almost always the right ones, even if their pit team doesn’t always trust Tim’s calls yet.

Bruce gets called a DILF a lot, but doesn’t know what it means, so he ends up accidentally playing into it

Dick Grayson used to be a fan favorite and The Eye Candy for the league. He was majorly respected by his team and fans because of his smarts and because he had a far more approachable personality than the rest of the Wayne drivers.

Since Dick left, he has functionally become an Instagram boyfriend for Wally. He also helps out with some of the F1 Academy/driver talent finding programs in addition to helping support Star.

Jason Todd used to be a very competitive driver and got a lot of fans because of his creative shit talking before he retired.

The Lex drivers are known for being very friendly both on- and off-track.

Conner tends to be reckless while driving, which has resulted in several times where Tim has gotten mad at him because of it.

Conner is very much a PR liability and will say the most random and out-of-pocket shit when you least expect it.

Conner is seen as a very “cool” and fashionable driver, which has gotten him a lot of fans.

Tim and Conner are both fan favorites and projected to be the spiritual replacements for Bruce and Clark when they eventually retire.

Bruce and Clark are both speculated to be preparing to retire soon, but still haven't done so.

Clark presents himself as more of a goofy dad off-track, and the other Lex drivers usually rope him into doing social media stuff.

Roy Harper and Artemis Crock both are highly competitive drivers and are the most likely to be guilty of swearing over the radio, which their fans all find funny as shit.

There’s also a very dedicated portion of the fanbase that finds Roy incredibly attractive.

Roy has fully shown up to race weekends with visible love bites before and has never acknowledged them. Most people suspect he's just dating a random person from his personal life that he doesn’t want to reveal because they’re not a public figure, but there is an extremely dedicated conspiracy community that thinks it’s Jason. Most people just meme those guys. Jason finds this funny as fuck.

Oliver Queen tends to be generally serious during interviews, but is also is down to do any social media trend he gets roped into. His fans call it cringe, but they keep watching regardless.

Oliver Queen’s wife Dinah Lance isn’t really associated with racing but she is an entertainer that is often featured at races. Outside of that, she doesn't pay much attention to the sport.

The Star drivers are all very friendly, but are very creative shit talkers over the radio.

The Star drivers are also known for their reflexes being very good even compared to other top teams, but are also known to overestimate the power of their cars.

Barry is seen as a goofy dad both in and out of the car, and will regularly crack jokes during races.

Barry also has a proven track record with very good strategy calls, rivaling those made by the current Wayne drivers.

Wally tends to be a bit more willing to take risks during races, but it generally proves well for him as he’s known for being really good at overtaking people.

Bart earned his nickname for just how risky some of his driving calls are, and they don’t always pay off. This is the main reason why he’s usually on backup.

Bart is also a PR liability because of how much he will run his mouth during interviews, which also makes the decision to keep him on backup easier.

Arthur is a really chill coach off-radio but is highly competitive on-radio, especially against Diana.

Kaldur'ahm tends to be a pretty chill driver but still takes his job seriously. He is mostly a team player nowadays except for when he’s dealing with Garth's antics.

Kaldur will try and one-up Garth’s attempts for fastest laps, and usually succeeds.

Kaldur is also seen as one of the better-looking drivers, but his fans tend to be more chill about it.

Garth is highly competitive but primarily against Kaldur, and does shit talk Kaldur if/when he successfully one-ups Garth.

Donna and Cassie are a fan favorite team, especially among younger female fans, and they are both incredibly sportsmanlike and personable. 

Cassie tends to be a pretty funny during interviews, but Donna tends to be slightly more reserved. Both are well-respected.

Donna also helps out with F1 Academy.

Diana is a relatively strict coach but makes good strategy calls and is highly respected by her team and fans. She also regularly hangs out with her drivers and acts as a mentor for them both.

The Lanterns are an older team and a bit more reserved than other teams, and are also very sportsmanlike. This gets them a lot of respect from the general racing fan base.

All the Lanterns are veteran drivers as well.

Hal tends to get called a DILF by fans, and while he takes the dad part in stride, he tries to avoid joining in on social media trends to avoid stoking the rest of the sentiment.

The Zatara drivers both tend to get a lot of thirsting from fans, and while they definitely play it up, they mostly treat it as a joke.

The Zatara drivers also tend to be pretty chill. Both realize and accept that they’re not the most competitive drivers, so they instead attract fans by being quite creative shit talkers.

Kord is an underdog team trying to become a consistently high-preforming team, and have a lot of people rooting for them because of it.

Jaime is a fan favorite especially because he’s pretty funny and a lot of people find him good looking.

Jaime doesn’t always make the best strategy calls, as he’s relatively new. He's getting better thanks to Ted's mentorship, however.

Ted is a bit of a goofy dad personality and is a veteran driver. His veteran status allows him to better mentor Jaime while still being the primary driver for the team.

Ted’s husband Michael Jon Carter is the gay equivalent of a massive wifeguy (positive), and shows up to all of Ted’s races. Fans find it very cute.

The Hawks are pretty chill, but also seen as very tired and not as invested in the racing anymore.

The Hawks also realize they're not a very competitive team, and do not pretend to be.

There’s been rumors of the Hawks disbanding for some time now, but they keep coming back because no other teams have been formed to replace them.

That's all I've got for right now, we'll see if I update this more. If you want to see more from this AU, let me know! Also you can blame @fivespade for me posting this (thank you for dealing with my ramblings about this AU bestie) :P

[chaoticallyfluffy]

To celebrate pride month I’m gonna get myself cancelled by saying my sexuality headcanons for DC characters! Most of which I know pretty much nothing about! Please don’t kill me :D

This is a long post and NONE of this is canon. I have very little knowledge on any of these guys these headcanons are based purely on vibes and it’s all for fun so take it with a jar full of salt.

Bruce/Batman:

He would be bi. I have no doubt about it. His Brucie persona would be very open about it, flirting with potential sponsors at galas no matter the gender to convince them to donate more to his charity as well as flirting with the reporters just to spread the rumors that he's a playboy. As Batman he’d be much more quiet about it. He never talks about himself so no one knows anything about him. No one ever realizes he is bi until he reveals his identity and as one of the most prominent openly bisexual celebrities in the world, they realize right away.

He was born a man and understands and supports transgender people but he never thought too hard about it for himself and is very confident in his gender being male. He is comfortable with being feminine at times without it reflecting his gender and sometimes dresses in drag for photoshoots and paparazzi.

Diana/Wonder Woman :

She lived in a society of exclusively women where lesbian was the default. You either liked women, or you liked no one at all. She was the latter for many years until she met Steve and then she felt something strange for the first time. It took her a long time to realize it was love and that she was only attracted to men which is why she never felt anything for the women in her previous home.

When she hears about transgender people she’s a little bit offended by people ‘deciding’ not to be a woman at first but that’s because she misunderstood the concept. After a bit of explaining she not only accepts it, but becomes a huge ally and will defend their rights fiercely. She has never considered she would be anything but female and is incredibly confident in her own gender.

Clark/Superman:

He’d be just a tiny bit bi but he doesn’t know since he never put much thought into it and much prefers women anyway. He gets a bit uncomfortable when people talk about lgbtq+ things since he doesn’t understand it but he supports it anyway and will fly over pride parades with various flags given to him by Bruce.

He knows transgender people exist but doesn’t understand that being trans is an possibility for him specifically. It just never crossed his mind. When asked his pronouns he says “I’m a man :)” and he’s so kind about it and clearly trying so most people just smile and nod and don’t bother explaining that that isn’t an answer.

Barry Allen/Flash:

He definitely experimented in college and wasn’t exactly opposed, but romantically he is only into women and after marrying Iris he had no reason to keep trying new things. He loves his wife and that’s all that matters. When Wally comes out to him as gay he’s very supportive but doesn’t understand much and promptly researches every single lgbtq+ label in existence.

He doesn’t fully understand transgender stuff but he’s trying really hard. Right now he’s too busy memorizing the names and flags of every sexuality. Check back in a few weeks when he realizes theres more to it than that and actually pays attention to things like transgender rights and homophobia. He will be a changed man and a fierce ally, trying hard to shed light on these issues and change the laws to be more inclusive.

Martian manhunter:

Gender and sexuality are human concepts. Biological sex is irrelevant to a shapeshifter so why would he let it limit him? He doesn’t understand why it matters so much to humans but he tries to understand. He knows a lot more about the lgbtq+ community than most people and fights for their rights but still doesn’t care much about his own labels.

He accepts whatever pronouns other use for him. He literally could not care less.

(I just wrote so much stuff and it all got deleted. Pain.)

Hal Jordan/ Green Lantern:

After travelling through space for so long you start to realize that human gender norms are kinda stupid. When you meet enough sexless space blobs who’s pronouns are based on developmental stages or races with thirty seven sexes and only one set of pronouns for all of them, you start to question if “male” is really the only optjon for you. He doesn’t know his gender quite yet but he’s pretty confident he’s not exactly a man. He doesn’t talk about it much except with people he’s very close to. He has noticed that he has a heavy preference towards 'women' no matter the species, as long as they're sentient.

Billy Batson/ Captain Marvel/ Shazam:

I think he’d be biromantic asexual trans man because hes my favourite boy and I say so. Again, do not kill me. He’s canonically dated and had crushes on girls but I feel like the whole ‘sometimes looks like an adult’ thing would really complicate things and he would try to push away any romantic feelings to not let it distract him from his work or cause any problems. It would probably take him a good few years to realize that he also likes guys and even longer to realize he never really felt anything further than romantic about anyone.

He knew he was trans since he knew what gender was. He has never identified as a girl and as soon as he could talk he told his parents he was a boy they were like “alrighty then!” And treated him accordingly. Hair cuts, pronouns, clothing and such. He didn’t even realize it was seen as ‘abnormal’ until his parents died. his uncle refused to call him by the correct pronouns and all his foster homes after that were similarly transphobic. He never faltered though and when he started living on the streets, he threw away all the dresses and bows his previous fosters got him and never looked back.

Batkids lightning round:

Richard Grayson/Nightwing:

Very openly gay while in costume. Still open out of costume but is just the teeniest bit quieter about it (aka when he’s out of costume he can’t yell at villains about being homophobic for hitting a gay man every time he takes a punch)

He’s a man (either trans or cis, i havent decided yet lol) but he isn’t afraid to wear a dress and makeup every once in a while and is very comfortable with his femininity and masculinity.

Jason Todd:

Who cares? He sure doesn’t. He’s dated women and doesn’t think it’s necessary to explore any further.

He’s never explored his gender and is a bit toxicly masculine but he can, will, and has killed people for being transphobic or making a transgender person feel even slightly uncomfortable. Huge ally though he doesn’t talk much about lgbtq+ rights, it’s just so obvious to him that he doesn’t think it needs to be talked about. A fan group online keeps a tally of how many homophobes and transphobes he's sent to the hospital and the number is unbelievably high.

Tim drake:

Unlabelled. He doesn’t have time to think about any of that but he knows he’s probably not straight, especially considering he has dated men, women, and nonbinary folk. It doesn’t really matter much to him.

Same thing for gender, who has the time? He identifies as male because looking too deep when he feels just fine as a guy would be a waste of time to him. If he had a transgender friend suggest it though, he would look a bit deeper and find that he’s either cis or gender apathetic. At that point he'd get bored and stop again lol.

Damian Wayne:

He has other things to worry about. Like eliminating all crime, for example. And polishing his swords. He'll deal with the whole 'romance' thing when he is the appropriate marriage age and will select if he wants to date a girl or a boy then. (He has not yet realized that isn't how it works. He'll realize hes aroace eventually but for now teaching Alfred the cat how to steal from Tim is much more important)

Other misc hero’s:

Zatanna: bi with a preference for women.

John Constantine: (edited this one because it was misunderstood) Bi but that’s none of your business. Won’t go out of his way to hide it but isn’t gonna tell you about it either unless it’s actually relevant.

Kon-el/Conner Kent/ Superboy: Gay. Maybe one day he’ll try dating a woman or something just to see if he’s interested but for now he knows he likes men so he’s sticking to that. They use He/they pronouns.

Wally west/ kid flash: Gay. Thought he was bi for a bit but realized he was just trying to hold on to a tiny bit of normalcy and accepted he would never be ‘normal’. He’s very happy with his boyfriend now! Experimented with different pronouns for a few months but ended up being a cis man. The experience really helped him understand the community better and hes glad he tried it out even in it didnt result in a big self discovery or anything.

And thats it! If you have a different headcanon please tell me in the comments/reblogs/tags/whatever!! I’m super interested to hear them.

[seilnakyle]

Do you think there's gonna be something wrong with the drug he takes? Like it works at first but then it all hits the fan type of thing

Yea that or almost certainly the company, the other rich people using it or more likely Scarlett Martha Scott will be involved in some sinister goings on having to do with or being sponsored by Sangraal, It’s kinda giving secret society. I’m thinking it’s gonna have a “Eugenics Bad!” Message which yes obviously that’s correct but I don’t buy Bruce getting wrapped up in something like this to begin with even when it’s packaged as “for the mission”

I though we were on the right track with this panel, “No part of me believes that” though he’s still nowhere near as disturbed by it as he should be…

There’s also that conversation with Clark that confuses me, you can’t convince me that Bruce, who suffered so much from watching his parents die in front of him, would ever volunteer to live forever, guaranteeing that he will outlive his entire family just so he can keep being Batman.

[cyanogen-miasma]

Spoilers for Doctor Who episode "The Interstellar Song Contest"

I was very worried about this episode when I first heard it was supposed to be about Eurovision. There are two avenues that the episode could have gone down: one that was super critical about Eurovision and its politics, and one that is just mindless self-indulgent Eurovision fun. Because people seem to like Eurovision and ignore its politics

So the writers tried to have their cake and eat it too, and it doesn't work

so they've tried to put some critical ideas in there, with the sponsor of the song contest destroying a planet for honey flavouring and demonizing its oppressed peoples, but at the same time we've got to save the song contest and look guys it's Rylan Clark from the hit old Earth show Eurovision isn't that so cool?! And this big meanie protestor from the oppressed people wants to derail the contest to make a political statement (by murdering an unimaginably large amount of people which makes you look bad if you criticize that plot point)

which makes for a very jarring experience

Ncuti does the terrifying doctor act very well but this is overshadowed by the fact that he's tasering an orphan from an oppressed planet and he's refrained from physically injuring much more politically uncomplicated and unapologetically evil opponents like Davros and the Master

And that shot of all the 'corpses' floating out of the space station would have been great if it actually had any permanence

I think the only thing that could save this episode politically is if they have a follow-up episode where they go up against the Corporation (mysteriously not the Villengard Corporation, even though I thought this situation was what we were using then for now)

at least we have Dugga Doo

[buds-and-baubles]

Kon for the headcanons game

(HA you were expecting me to send Tim Drake, weren't you?)

ask game

since you didn't list what you wanted it to be, i'll pick one!

headcanon 2: may or not be realistic, is definitely funny (at least to me);

wait i actually have one that i discussed in a server i'm in.

kon when he first was flying outside of CADMUS, decided to sample a cloud. he later learns that clark had also sampled a bit from a cloud when he was younger, but kon decided to build upon that. he'll use his ttk and scoop bits of a cloud to create.. ttk sponsored s.s.s.c (super sky snow cone)!

[ao3feed-superbat]

To Be a Raisin With You

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/o5jPA0u by 518Crows "I don’t have scars, my bones don’t ache, I don’t have wrinkles, no sunspots, not even a grey hair!” He reached up, raking through the strands, and gave it a furious yank. “I have no evidence of my life mapped out on my body.” Bruce listened helplessly. He couldn’t deny what had been said when the evidence was right in front of him. The man, no matter how enervated he was, always looked immaculate. Never a wound, never a scrape, not even a paper cut. All evidence of change, pain, growth wiped away in seconds. When they first met, Bruce was jealous of this invulnerability; later, it became a relief. He never saw it as a flaw. Couldn't fathom that it could symbolize any kind of loss. Not until now. --- Or Kal watches 'Bicentennial Man' (Not sponsored) one night, and it hits a little too close to home. Luckily, Bruce is there to help him through his nightmare. (If only his brain could catch up to the very serious conversation they were having at three in the morning.) Words: 4367, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman/Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Batman, Superman Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Not really its more, Bittersweet, Old Married Couple, Aging, Fear of Immortality, Clark Kent Being a Shit, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Clark Kent Needs a Hug, and he gets one, Sleeping Together, Mentions of Fruits and Vegetables, Talk about death, Superman is Emotional, And Superman makes Batman Emotional, Immortality sucks read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/o5jPA0u

[tacomasterstudios]

Underdog's Secret Origin Story

Published for the first time in 2005 in the book "How Underdog Was Born" by Underdog creators Chet Stover and W.W. "Buck" Biggers, this origin story for the Mutt of Might was originally written back in 1963 as part of the series bible, but never shown to sponsors and never used in any episodes. It's also completely unhinged.

He was born in Huntsville, West Virginia, where his father, Lewis N. Clark, worked as a coal miner. Wages were low and the family of three, living in a small log cabin in a wooded area far from town, had difficulty making ends meet.

His mother, Molly Barker, before she became Molly Clark, helped earn money by writing poetry which was bought by local and regional publications and, occasionally, by national magazines such as Reader's Digest and The Saturday Evening Post.

Named after his father, the future Underdog was called "Junior" by his parents and by his friends. Although the family was poor, Junior's life was happy and relatively uneventful until he was about to enter high school. At that time, when a dangerous criminal escaped from nearby Fullsome Prison, and everyone in the area was asked to help find him, it was discovered that Lewis was extraordinarily gifted at tracking, finding the path the escaped criminal had taken and discovering his whereabouts under even the most difficult of circumstances.

After capturing the first escapee and then repeating the feat several times, Lewis' fame spread rapidly, and he began to be called upon by prison officials, bail bondsmen, even private individuals suffering because someone close to them had vanished. The elder Lewis might have become wealthy as his fame spread, but he refused to take monetary advantage of

his talent.

His tracking freed him from the coal mine, which pleased him greatly because his lungs had suffered there, and a lower level explosion had damaged his hearing. But in terms of fees for tracking, he would take little more than the money he might have earned down in the mine shaft if his tracking talents had not been discovered.

As his reputation grew, Lewis prided himself on the fact that he had never once failed to bring back anyone he had been hired to track. Then, when Junior was 18 years of age, it appeared that his father's perfect record might be spoiled. Lewis was searching for a particularly unpleasant criminal, a fraudulent dentist (no credentials) who had been convicted of pulling healthy teeth and then charging exorbitant prices for doing this totally unnecessary, often very painful, work. The day he had been convicted, he had escaped from a courtroom far from Huntsville.

When Lewis was recruited to bring back this criminal, he was shocked to discover that this dentist had once worked on him! He had removed two teeth, quite painfully, which had almost certainly been healthy. This was the first time Lewis had ever been personally involved with anyone he hunted, and it may have caused him to be over-zealous and perhaps careless. 

Chasing the dentist across an unprotected railroad crossing, Lewis' car stalled and, with his poor hearing, he did not hear the approaching train until it was almost upon him. Miraculously, he lived, but only long enough to make a deathbed plea. In the hospital, he asked Junior to finish the hunt, to bring the dentist to justice. 

Even as distraught as Junior's mother was, almost destroyed by her husband's death, Molly did not try to stop Junior from going after the dentist. On a stormy night filled with lightning that streaked again and again from sky to ground, Junior picked up the dentist's trail at the rail- road crossing and tracked him to a deserted coal mine. It turned out, Junior had not really been tracking the dentist so much as the dentist had been leading him to this mine... to destroy him. 

Tricked into going down into the lowest level of the old mine, Junior discovered that the dentist had already made his exit, and now blocked Junior's only way out with an explosion. As if this alone was not enough to finish poor Junior, the dentist began pumping into the mine where Underdog was trapped the "laughing gas" dentists used at that time to ease patients' pain.

At exactly the moment this gas reached the bottom of the mine and filled the space where Junior was trapped, a bolt of lightning struck the mine and raced down the shaft to that room full of gas. What followed was like nothing ever recorded before in history.

The combination of lightning and laughing gas in that small area so far beneath the surface of the earth produced an unreleased explosion with a power and pressure of such dimensions that the coal left in this mine was literally turned to diamonds, and Junior underwent a comparable transformation. While he was laughing hysterically due to the huge quantity of laughing gas, Junior's eyes, ears, and muscles underwent a remarkable change, and he was empowered to become "Underdog.”

Without full realization of what had happened to him, Junior's first thought as he made his way out of that mine was to keep his promise to his father: bring the dentist to justice. This was not difficult; did not require any of Junior's newly developed powers. So certain had the dentist been that he had finished off this tracker, that he had not even left the premises. Junior captured him quickly, and returned him to the authorities from whom he had escaped. The record of the late Lewis N. Clark remained unblemished.

Back at home, Junior did not immediately speak of what had happened to him, for he and his mother were too caught up in grief, in burying their father and husband. And as weeks passed, Molly seemed unable to recover from this loss. But Junior finally spoke to her- he had to speak to someone-and discussed his new powers.

"It's providence," said his mother almost immediately. "Your father is gone- can no longer track down criminals- and you have been given strengths beyond belief."

"So, what should I do, Mother?"

"Use those powers to do what your father did; use them to fight for right and to help others in need. Use them for good. Help to bring a balance to life, to protect the poor and the helpless, the needy, the underdogs of the world."

And that was how Junior found his new name, "Underdog."

"I understand," he said to his mother. "That's what I'll do.”

"But you must never let those powers make you feel better than others. You must keep your feet on the ground, my son. Find a way to help you remain unchanged inside, no matter what fame comes to you."

This was why Junior would eventually adopt the personality of Shoeshine Boy whenever he was not fighting evil or helping others as Underdog. Shoeshine Boy would help to keep Underdog's feet on the ground.

Molly did not live long. There seemed no medical reason for her death. Some said the cause was simply the loss of Lewis; a broken heart. She did not want to continue on without her husband. Whatever the reason, she was gone less than a year after Lewis. And Junior was left alone.

He promised on his mother's grave that he would do as she had asked: Fight for the underdogs of the world and always remain humble. He made one other promise: As the hero of the poor and helpless- as Underdog- he would always speak in rhyme so that each time he spoke, he would be paying homage to his mother.

And, close to his heart, underneath the "U" on his chest, Underdog would always keep the last poem his mother had written.

Lies are like doors, And quickly we learn, When doors lock behind us We can never return.

Underdog would never lie.

[digitalwizard01]

Ok I have a bit of a theory for Superman 2025. Multiple different synopsis have referred to Superman as a Metahuman and that the plot revolves around Clark coming to terms with and reconciling his alien heritage with his human upbringing so maybe at this point in his career the public doesn't know that Superman is an alien but Lex does. What if when Lex breaks into the fortress he steals a database of kryptonian wildlife DNA sequencing and uses that as a basis of experimentation to create monsters, and that's what the Kaiju and the big sphere at the end of the trailer are? He could use these lab grown "alien" monsters and expose Superman as being an alien who's presence "attracted the creatures" and that's why the people seem to have turned on him and thats why he goes to Pa Kent looking sad, he could be asking for advice. Maybe Lex sponsors these other "heroes" The Engineer, the man in the black suit and the Lex Corp troopers because they're human and can be trusted unlike the alien who has been lying to everyone since the beginning

[superman-the-secret-third-thing]

Superman: Clan of the Fiery Cross

This episode of the radio show that premiered in 1947 directly lead to the loss of popularity of the Klu Klux Klan in the United States by featuring them as a Superman villain. If you want to listen to the show, I recommend this one.

It's very good, but a few things.

Jimmy doesn't seem to know what racism is.

Clark expresses his hatred for "those who discriminate based on religion or the color of one's skin"

I'm paraphrasing, but he does express the "tolerating intolerance is unacceptable" idea by way of saying that you shouldn't listen to racists, and that the community cannot just ignore them.

They don't call them the KKK, they're only called "The Clan of the Fiery Cross"

The voice acting for the leader- the Grand Scorpion is so good I got a little uncomfortable. He's very good at spitting in rage and glee at the thought of harming others.

Kellogg's Pep are the sponsor for the episode, which is inducing Whiplash.

The Clan are insane. They hate this poor chinese man, Dr. Li and his son Tommy Li because Dr. Li was more qualified than a white man and got the job as a microbiologist for the local university. They hate Tommy because he's better than the leader's nephew at baseball.

Superman is a very, very bad liar. "Gee Clark, how'd you see the bike bomb under the seat from inside the house?" "uhhh. You've uh. You've got a baseball game. Go go go."

They burn a cross on Perry White's yard and warn him to stop slandering them in the Daily Planet. He refuses and they kidnap him and Jimmy Olson, who he was giving a lift hom.

Perry White says directly to the leader's face that they are all "stupid bigots" despite the fact they're holding him at gun point and plan to torture him.

Olson and White tell them that the US was founded by foreigners and each and every person there was decended from a non-native, giving an inspirational speech about the ideals of America. The Klansmen ignore this.

One woman says the Klan is no better than the Nazis and need to be stamped out.

A kid has information that could save the life of Jimmy Olson and bust the Klan, and the Daily Planet put out a newspaper announcement asking for help, specifically for him since he did call them anonymously. His mom reads this in the news and says that, "If that were my son and he refused to help save the life of another boy I'd DESTROY the child. Kick him out of my home. I'd hate him forever." I presume she makes eye contact the entire time.

[allthistrashtalkmakemeitchin]

Ghostwriter CH 17

Unbetad Unedited Unhinged || AO3 / Wattpad

Character(s): Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, Logan Mitchell, Mercedes Griffin, Gustavo Rocque, Kelly Wainwright, Mrs. Knight, Katie Knight, Veronica Clark oc, Curt Haverfield

Pairing(s): Kendall Knight/Veronica Clark, James Diamond & Veronica Clark, Kendall Knight & James Diamond & Carlos Garcia & Logan Mitchell

a/n: because Ronnie's birthday is next week I want her birthday ch to be the only ch I put out that week

“Alrighty!” Mercedes pulled the brush away from his face and smiled. “Now, Daddy says that when you go out there, you must advertise RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid as much as possible.” 

��Mercedes, I can handle this.” Curt chuckled and gently swatted her hands away. The makeup on his face felt strange, but he would get used to it eventually. Thus was the price of Hollywood. “Have you ever gone on live television before? No? I didn’t think so.” Mercedes popped her gum and packed away the makeup she had brought because she believed she was far more competent than the makeup artist on the team. 

“It’ll be fine. I don’t need the cue cards your dad made for me.” Curt put the stack of cards on the table. “I’ll be myself, and it will be fine.” 

“Uh, no.” Mercedes planted her hands on her hips. “It will not be fine. Stick to the cue cards, and whatever you do, do not answer honestly. They’re looking for drama, if anything, and you cannot give it to them.”

“The RCM-CBT segment is on in five!” Someone in the distance called. 

Mercedes giggled and clapped. “You’ll do great! Don’t forget to have fun!” 

Curt waved her off and hopped out of the chair. He smoothed down his custom RCM DBT jersey, a gift from Arthur Griffin. It was his official debut as a player on the L.A. Kings and being sponsored by RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid. Pushing his shoulders back, he took a deep breath and waited for his cue. The interviewer was a gorgeous woman. Silk-pressed brown hair was cut into an angeled bob, and she wore a satin lavender dress. The backdrop was a mix of yellow, purple, and white—the colors of his hockey team. The interviewer stood up and gestured to the left of the stage. The blonde took this as his cue to walk out. The live studio clapped and cheered as the bright lights of the stage hit him. He squinted but continued walking. 

“Thank you for coming on the show.” The interviewer sat down again, and Curt did the same. 

“Well, thank you for having me…” 

“I’m Lindy Lam, and in today’s segment, we’re interviewing the youngest player of the L.A. Kings.” She spoke to the camera with her signature television smile. “Just a couple of days ago, you were signed onto the team after CEO Arthur Griffin of RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid offered to endorse them.” 

“That’s right, Lindy,” Curt chuckled and tried to relax under the lights. He was starting to understand why Griffin had given him cue cards. 

“Speaking of which, I see you’re representing RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid on your jersey.” 

“Yes,” Curt nodded and pulled at his jersey. He turned to give the camera a more precise shot. “It was a gift from Arthur Griffin.” 

“Would you say you’re close with Arthur Griffin?” She framed her question as an accusation. 

“If you’re saying that I got accepted by the L.A. Kings because of Arthur Griffin, I have no idea where you heard those rumors. I barely knew him before I came to California.” 

“Right,” Lindy’s smile pulled tighter. She was not happy about his answer. “Our sources say you’re from a backwater town in North Carolina.” 

Curt choked on his saliva. 

“Roxobel may be a small town, but it is not some backwater town.” He tensed up. The last thing he needed was for the tabloids to spin him into this caricature of an idiot. 

“You have quite a temper.” Lindy laughed lightly, and Curt joined in to make it seem like he let her comment roll off his back like water. 

“Now, your face has been plastered all over the media. Fans alike have been dying to know, who is this girl?” Lindy pulled a remote out of nowhere, and on the projector screen behind them was a picture that made Curt’s blood run cold. 

The paparazzi had taken a photo of him and Ronnie on one of their dates. The wind blew through her hair, and she clung to his arm. He flushed and scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t raise suspicion or paint anyone negatively. Lindy looked at him expectantly as he sat there floundering for an answer. 

“From the intel we gathered, she isn’t a supermodel, movie star, singer, or famous. Who is she?” The cameraman panned to Curt, and he started sweating. 

“Well…” He cleared his throat and shuffled around, gripping the armrests with white knuckles. “Lindy, she is my girlfriend. Ronnie Clark, she’s writing songs for Big Time Rush.” 

“Oh?” Lindy turned to the audience and gasped. “How did you two meet? Is she a fan of the L.A. Kings?” 

“She’s a hockey fan, alright.” Curt laughed. “Of course, because she’s dating me, she’s decked out in L.A. Kings memorabilia.” 

“Will we see her support you at your first game from the stands?” 

“Oh, I hope so.” Curt turned and winked at the camera. He had a feeling Ronnie was watching the channel. She seemed like the type of girl to watch celebrity gossip. She was a simple girl and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. That’s why he liked her. 

“We cannot wait to catch up on your whirlwind love story.” Lindy laughed. “But do tell me, are you threatened by the rising boyband Big Time Rush?” 

“What? No,” Curt scoffed. “They care about her a lot, and it’s not her fault if they find her attractive. She’s a gorgeous girl.” 

“I bet she’s happy to hear that.” Lindy chuckled. “You seem so secure in your relationship. This is quite an exquisite thing that two teenagers rarely share.” 

Curt’s smile faltered. Lindy leaned over and patted his knee. 

“Oh, no, no. I don’t mean that as an insult. It’s just something you don’t see often.” She smiled at the audience. 

“I didn’t think it was an insult.” The blonde tensed up. The stage lights were hot, and sweat dotted his forehead. 

Ronnie knocked on the door to apartment 2J, and luckily, James opened the door. Her hair was damp and dripping on an old t-shirt. James gave her a confused look and raised a brow. She was dying her hair, but for some reason, after she mixed the bleach and picked it up with the brush that came in the box, she dropped the mixing bowl and began to panic. The songwriter could have very well texted him, but she had forgotten her phone in the living room of her apartment. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

“I need you to dye my hair.” She grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him down the hall without much explanation. The brunette shut the door and let her drag him wherever she was going. 

It wasn’t hard for people to be friends with James. He was easy to talk to and incredibly comforting, but Ronnie somehow clicked with him effortlessly. After a month, James didn’t question it whenever she asked for his help. Logan would chastise her about dying her hair at home, Carlos probably had no idea what to do, and Kendall would argue. At least James knew about proper hair care because his hair was his best feature. Mr. Clark didn’t ask when the brunette crammed into the small bathroom with her and thrust the mixing bowl into his hands. Curt’s interview on Starstruck was on the television in the living room. It was weird that Mr. Clark was watching it, but maybe he had put it on for Ronnie. James looked down at the mixing bowl of hair bleach and then put it on the counter. A box of rubber gloves had been haphazardly thrown into the mess. As a precaution, he feared ruining his hands with hair bleach. James put on the rubber gloves. He snapped the elastic against his wrist for fun, and the songwriter cringed. 

“Sorry, sorry.” The singer gave her an apologetic smile. “What color are you dying your hair? It’s been blue for quite a while.” 

“Green, I want to dye it green, but I just– I’ve done my hair for so long, but now the bleach makes my skin crawl.” 

“You’re lucky I know how to do hair, or else we would have a bigger problem.” James chuckled. 

“You don’t mind dying my hair?” 

“What? No.” James rolled his eyes and tsked. “I’d rather you not botch your hair color, and this is better than not dying it at all.” 

“Thanks,” 

“Don’t mention it, Ronnie. I’m happy you asked me.” 

Ronnie sat patiently while James worked the bleach through her hair. He was gentle even though he didn’t need to be and didn’t want to ruin her hair. Dyeing her hair took about an hour, including waiting for the color and then rinsing it. While the two waited, they watched Curt’s interview in the living room. Mr. Clark was eating cereal and looked to be intently watching the interview. He glanced at Ronnie out of the corner of his eye. 

“Isn’t that your boyfriend?” He asked. 

Ronnie squeaked, and her face flushed. In the blink of an eye, her dad started showing support for the L.A. Kings when he found out his daughter was dating a soon-to-be player. At least, now Curt was a player. Ronnie noticed her picture on the screen and her shoulders hunched up. The paparazzi had taken that picture on their first date. She was wearing the outfit James had picked out. 

“Hey! Didn't I throw that outfit together?” James pointed excitedly at the screen. “See? I told you, you look awesome.” He nudged Ronnie gently, and she nodded absentmindedly. 

If her picture was on celebrity gossip television, there was no telling how Gustavo and Kelly would react. When it was time to rinse her hair, she locked herself in the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. Ronnie hadn’t noticed how dark the circles under her eyes were. The water from the shower head ran cold, and she flipped her head over and stuck herself under the ice-cold water without warning. She shut her eyes and let the water assault her skin and hair. The cold water pulled her into the present. When she goes to work tomorrow, Gustavo and Kelly will tell her how they felt about the interview. Gustavo would express how disappointed and upset he was about the interview, which would cause Kelly to attempt to calm him down.

Who knows? Perhaps Griffin would visit to chat with her about how the interview would be a smear for RCM CBT Globalnet Sanyoid. It had been a while since Ronnie had talked to him, but he was giving them time to finish the second album. They had another three months to arrange and produce music for a second album. Once again, Ronnie’s career depended on how much Griffin liked the album. Each morning she woke up, she would pray that Griffin would like the album they were working on because she wanted to stay in Los Angeles. The songwriter had friends she cared about, and she was making a name for herself. It would be a cruel twist of fate if she and her father were sent packing because the album wasn’t to Griffin’s liking. Stuck in her thoughts, she didn’t know how long her head had been underwater, but the water ran clear. Ronnie took the old bleached stained towel and used it to dab at her hair to get rid of the excess moisture so she could wrap the towel around it. Maybe Kendall would be surprised she changed her hair color. Part of her was hoping he was surprised for some reason. Oddly enough, his opinion meant more to her than it should. She didn’t know why, but she hoped Kendall liked that she changed her hair color. If anything, it might even catch his attention. Ronnie stepped out into the living room. Her phone started ringing, and the sudden noise made goosebumps pepper her arms. 

~ ~ ~ 

“Veronica, tell me why you were on television.” 

The green-haired girl just opened the door when Gustavo stopped her in the doorway. Admittedly, she had been worrying about their reactions since she saw the interview. Kendall and James shared worried glances. The boys knew better than anyone that their producer could blow up over the most minor things. Ronnie tugged at the drawstrings on her hoodie. She already had to deal with the paparazzi swarming the five of them on their way to Rocque Records. People in black clothes with cameras were almost shoving in her face. 

“We have paparazzi swarming outside! Are you proud of yourself?” Gustavo shouted in her face. She shrunk into herself and looked away. It wasn’t her fault that her picture even made it on television. She had no idea what Curt would say anyway. 

“Gustavo,” Kelly shot him a look and gently touched Ronnie’s shoulder. “We’re not angry at you.” The talent scout was glaring at her boss. “We just want you to know the gravity of the situation because we don’t think you’ve had to deal with the paparazzi before.” 

There was static in her ears. Ronnie nodded absentmindedly, her eyes glued to the floor. 

“Why is this a big deal?” Kendall asked. 

“Why– Are you not aware of what gossip can do?” Gustavo scoffed. “At least in Hollywood, gossip can make or break a celebrity career.” 

“And the last thing you guys need is for a scandal to destroy your career,” Kelly added. 

“What kind of scandal would we be involved in?” Carlos asked, but he couldn’t read the room exactly. He was smiling as if everything was okay. 

“Well, thanks to your songwriter, the world practically knows she’s dating that hockey player–” 

“I think we get it.” Kendall interrupted him. “But if something ever happens, can’t we go on the show and tell Lindy Lam that we’re just friends?” 

“You’re kidding.” James smacked his arm. “Paparazzi function off of juicy drama– Wait, did you say they’re swarming the building.” The brunette’s eyes lit up, and Kelly shot him a look. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Kelly chidded, wagging her finger. 

“But, Kelly! I need to be propelled into the blogosphere!” James whined. 

“No. There will be no propelling into anything!” Gustavo snapped. “None of you should be in the media.” 

“It’s not like I knew what he would say.” Ronnie frowned. “Besides, you can’t tell me not to date him.” 

“Could you?” Kendall quirked a brow. 

“No,” Kelly answered for the record producer. “He cannot tell you who you should or shouldn’t date.” 

“I still don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” Kendall sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, this doesn’t stop us from doing our work, does it?” Ronnie sat in the same spot at the back of the studio as every other day. At this point, the couch in the back of the room belonged to her. Gustavo sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“All I’m saying is now that the media knows you are, you must be vigilant.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you need to be careful!” 

Ronnie flinched. She stared wide-eyed at Gustavo. It had been a month since she moved to Los Angeles, yet his yelling surprised her. She had yet to get used to his yelling, even though he constantly yelled at the guys. For the most part, he refrained from yelling at her unless necessary, which was all the time. The record producer had quite a temper, almost like Kendall's. They clashed too often, but the blonde never walked out on Gustavo, regardless of his anger.  

The songwriter didn’t understand why Gustavo expressed his concern. She and Curt had been conscientious about avoiding the paparazzi, and this wasn’t even her fault. She didn’t know that Curt had the interview on TV. Ronnie was left to her thoughts while the guys got set up to record one of Gustavo's newer songs. She flipped to an old page in her notebook, the lyrics she had written down after Kendall had taken her sightseeing. The lyrics didn’t seem right. She must be missing a bridge or might need to swap the chorus with one of the verses. Humming the song quietly, the words brought to mind her first date with Curt. 

James picked out her outfit. Curt took her to a fancy restaurant, where their table was in the back. The atmosphere was very romantic. A candle was on the table, and the sound system played classical music. She remembered being extremely nervous. The first twenty minutes were a bit awkward, but she felt more comfortable once they got to talking. She kept the conversation away from music as much as she could. Curt complimented her quite a lot, but she had no idea what his favorite color was. They were close because they were dating, but that didn’t mean she knew much about his personal life. 

Ronnie leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. She had only ever known about the paparazzi from the few television shows she watched at home. This one show about a teenage singer managing her double life had quite a few encounters with the paparazzi, and they were fixed, albeit pretty quickly. She would be naive if she believed the paparazzi were like that in real life. All she could do was hope that this didn’t mean she had no privacy. She might consider returning to Vermont if she had to give up her privacy just because Curt Haverfield was her boyfriend. For now, there wasn’t anything she could do. It wasn’t like she would lie on television about her relationship status. If she tried to fight back against the paparazzi, they would make a distasteful spin on whatever she said. She’s damned if she does and damned if she doesn’t. Ronnie sighed and ran a hand down her face. It looked like today was going to be a long day indeed. 

James was positively over the moon when he saw the paparazzi outside. Ronnie and the guys were in the Rocque Records lobby. While James excitedly pressed his face against the glass, Ronnie pulled her hood on and curled into a ball on the floor around the corner. She had underestimated how many people were suddenly interested in her life. The constant chatter mixed with the flash from the cameras was too much. Perhaps the shows she used to watch as a kid downplayed the severity of it all. Kendall was on the phone with his mom when they realized they would be stranded there until the crowd dispersed. 

“Okay!” Kendall clapped his hands together. “Mom will be here in a couple of minutes. We need a game plan on how we will get out there.” 

Ronnie lifted her head when she heard whispering. The guys huddled in a circle, heads pressed together. Was this her fault? She couldn’t help but think she had condemned her friends. If she weren’t their songwriter, this paparazzi thing wouldn’t be as big of a deal. Occasionally, Kendall would look over his shoulder at her, hugging her knees against her chest on the floor. The blonde felt a tad bit helpless in this situation. There was nothing five teenagers could do against a swarm of adults. Then, the honking of a horn hit his ears. 

“Okay, break!” The guys pulled apart and turned towards Ronnie. She furrowed her brows in confusion. 

“What?” 

She had no choice when her friends surrounded her, like the Secret Service. She ducked her head when she saw the flash of the cameras. Four hockey players from Minnesota worked in tandem to keep the paparazzi away from her. Ronnie could barely hear them if they said anything to her. The next thing she knew, she was being shoved into a car. The guys piled into the car. Logan, James, and Carlos were squishing her against the door, but it wasn’t like she could complain. Mrs. Knight’s third rental car was her only way out of there. 

“Go! Go! Go!” Kendall instructed his mother as he haphazardly put on his seatbelt. 

Since Ronnie was squished, she couldn’t reach the seatbelt, but it wouldn’t make a difference even if she could. She hugged her back to her chest and ducked her head to obscure her face from the windows. Carlos waved at the paparazzi outside the car, and Mrs. Knight sped off. Unfortunately, the paparazzi were also at the Palm Woods, and Bitters inhaled the sweet scent of cash. The guys' protection plan fell apart in the blink of an eye. Carlos, James, Logan, and Kendall were shoved to the side as adults with flashing cameras swarmed Ronnie. They prattled off questions at a speed that would make her head spin. Trying to push through them was almost similar to treading water. She struggled to get to the front doors, but the struggle wasn’t over because Bitters happened to be a sellout in every form of the word. She didn’t have time to breathe when cameras were blinding her. James, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan fought through the crowd out front. Once they got to the lobby, Kendall picked her up without thinking and threw her over his shoulder. 

The five of them hid in apartment 2J. Ronnie called her dad in the bathroom since he was away at work. She left him a voicemail. She sat cross-legged on the couch and hugged a throw pillow to her chest. Katie was watching a random show on Fox, nibbling on popcorn. James, Carlos, Kendall, and Logan were plotting in their room. Katie quirked a brow. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Huh?” Ronnie had been staring at the coffee table, stuck in thought for quite a while. She snapped out of it and blinked rapidly. She hadn’t noticed her eyes were dry. “No, yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? You look like you’re five seconds from a breakdown.” 

Ronnie groaned and leaned back. She covered her face with her hands. 

“You know, I watched the interview with Curt. He didn’t say anything bad,” 

“No, I know, I watched it too, but… I didn’t expect the paparazzi to be interested in me so suddenly.” 

“Technically, you’re a celebrity now.” Katie shrugged. 

“Yeah, but this wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

“Something else will happen, and then the paparazzi will go away. That’s usually what happens.” 

“Are you trying to make me feel better?” Ronnie quirked a brow. 

“Is it working?” Katie asked with a mouthful of popcorn. 

“Not really…” 

“Are the guys always like this?” 

“What? Protective?” Katie tilted her head. “Yes, all the time. Especially protective over me.” 

Mrs. Knight brought over a tray of homemade cookies. 

“If you can’t make it to your apartment, I am happy to let you stay here. I have extra blankets, and if you do stay, I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” 

“It’ll wind down eventually,” Ronnie hesitantly reached for a chocolate chip cookie. “Hopefully.” 

“If it doesn’t, you are more than welcome to stay here for the night.” 

“Thanks, Mrs. Knight.” 

“Anytime,” the red-haired woman smiled kindly and returned to the kitchen. 

Ronnie felt weird sitting down and watching television at someone else's apartment, but she wanted to know what the guys were scheming. She could only hope that they wouldn’t do something to Curt. James watched the interview with her, so he should know it wasn’t Curt’s fault either. Lindy Lam dug for juicy details, and the paparazzi took their photo without consent. Ronnie nibbled on the cookie. It had been a while since she had homemade baked goods. Her mother used to bake when she was younger, but that felt like a lifetime ago. 

The paparazzi left, but Ronnie couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking about the tabloids. Sitting on the orange couch in the living room, she searched the tabloids on the internet. The blue light from her laptop was harsh, and she couldn’t sleep. Music was playing through her headphones. 

Kendall wandered out of his room in the middle of the night. At first, he thought Ronnie was sleeping on the couch, but rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he noticed she wasn’t there. The blanket he gave her was thrown over the sofa. Her bag was on the floor, but her laptop wasn’t on the table. The blonde shuffled into the bathroom to do his business, then returned to his room to grab a pair of slippers. The singer was concerned because he felt the paparazzi were lurking around to catch her when she was alone. It wasn’t that he felt the need to protect her, but she didn’t need any more trouble than she already had. 

The blonde searched the halls, no longer half-asleep. He was wide awake now that he was worrying about her. It was ridiculous how quickly everything snowballed. Would this be what it would be like when Big Time Rush became famous? Will their privacy get invaded and their personal lives destroyed? James would love it because he has always wanted to be famous, but Kendall wasn’t so sure he would enjoy it. He had always kept to himself and preferred a quiet life. Fame was exciting, and he wanted to help James achieve his dream, but being in the spotlight wasn’t meant for him. He always knew that if he played on the Toronto Maple Leafs or Minnesota Wild, there would be a slight chance he would be centered in the spotlight. But sports fans were something he could deal with. They were easy to ignore. Singers and celebrity fans were ravenous and cutthroat. The four knew that Big Time Rush wouldn’t last forever, and the situation with the paparazzi cemented that belief even further. They all had goals and ambitions but came together to help James because he was their friend. 

Kendall took the elevator to the lobby. On the one hand, he hoped Bitters wouldn’t catch him or try to get him kicked out because he was awake, but on the other hand, he hoped Ronnie was there. He noticed a shadow in the pool area and ducked behind a potted plant. He didn’t bother putting on the tree hat since no one was around to see him. Ronnie sat by the edge of the pool. Her sweatshirt was discarded on a lounge chair behind her. She played with her hands in the water, and her laptop sat beside her. Kendall stopped hiding behind the potted plant and stood up. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, glad she wasn’t in danger. 

“What are you doing up?” Kendall slid the door open as quietly as he could and made his way over to her. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ronnie chuckled. 

“I’m not here to drag you back to bed.” Kendall squatted beside her. He squinted at the blue light of her laptop. She was reading tabloids. 

“I couldn’t sleep…” Ronnie pulled her hand out of the water and shook it, careful not to get water on her laptop. 

“Gee, I have no idea why.” Kendall snickered as he picked up her laptop. “Why are you reading these? Why does it matter what they say?” 

“It was better when people didn’t know who I was.” Ronnie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t– I can’t help it. I need to know what they’re saying.” 

“Ronnie,” Kendall put her laptop on the lounge chair and sat beside her. “All you’ll find is negativity, and you won’t like it. It won’t make you feel better.” 

“But they’re talking about me, and I’m not a part of the conversation.” 

“Of course, they’re talking about you. Who wouldn’t want to talk about you?” 

“But what if people hate me? What if they call me all sorts of names? What kind of reputation will I have?” 

“Not–” Kendall sighed. “Not everyone is going to like you.” 

“That’s something I would be telling you,” Ronnie laughed. 

“That’s not what you’re worried about, is it?” 

Ronnie looked down at her hands. How did he catch on so quickly? It wasn’t that she was worried about what people were saying about her, but more so that she couldn’t control how other people viewed her. She couldn’t control the headlines in the media or the photos the paparazzi took. All of it was out of her control, and she felt helpless. Nothing she could do or say would make any of this better. If she tried, then her words would be taken out of context or used against her to make her look like a horrible person. 

“Ronnie?” 

“I wish I was a nobody again…” Ronnie whispered. She put her hand in the water again and watched how the ripples disturbed the motionless surface. 

“You were a nobody to begin with. You meant something to someone.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” 

“I know, I know. Sometimes I think about my life before I came to L.A., too.” 

“At least, in Vermont, people weren’t scrambling to find trivial facts about me to judge my character.” Ronnie snorted. “What’s so wrong with my favorite color being yellow?” 

“My favorite color is blue,” Kendall watched the ripples on the water's surface. They were hypnotizing. 

“Together, they make green, like my hair.” Ronnie grabbed a strand of hair and giggled. 

“I didn’t even notice you dyed your hair,” 

“James helped me dye it the night Curt had the interview.” 

“You– You watched his interview? Then you know what he said about you,” 

“He didn’t say anything wrong if that’s what you’re wondering, but that’s not the problem.” 

Kendall grabbed her laptop and scrolled down to the comments left on the article. Many of the usernames were either their names or something like CurtSuperfan45, and none of the comments were nice. Most of these people seemed bitter that Ronnie got to go out with a hockey player instead of them. 

“Ignore them,” Kendall returned her laptop to the lounge chair. “It doesn’t matter what they say. All that matters is you’re awesome, and the people who care about you won’t let bitter fans get in the way of that.” 

“How come you weren’t this nice when we first met?” 

“Because I felt like the world was trying to make me move on too quickly,” 

“Oh.” 

“It wasn’t anything against you!” Kendall added to reassure her. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t the nicest.” 

“I’m sorry I made it worse,” Ronnie said quietly. She looked down, her hair curling her face. 

“But you didn’t make it worse.” Kendall reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were treating me the same way I was treating you,” 

“Thanks, Kendall.”

[blerb-f1]

Immortals / Centuries Max Verstappen & NB!Reader

They were like a ghost in the pit of Formula One. Everyone saw them like a piece of furniture, a constant that stayed unchanging. That’s what they were - constant. No one spoke about them, no one photographed them. Like a big shared secret, even the media abstained from ever considering them an icon before their lens.

Yet, history showed them throughout the years. The 10th september 1961, Monza. Wolfgang von Trips collided with Jim Clark, passing away in the accident. They were there, seen directing medical health and other advisors, just barely visible in the background. 

That same Italian grand prix, nine years later, they were there again. The horrible day that took Jochen Rindt.

Some people considered them a bad omen yet that sentiment had died out over the time. Their body unchanging, their mind staying sharp. Having seen death for so many times, they had become an audible figure, greatly advocating for safety.  So when refueling had been reinstated in 1994, they were greatly angered and fearful for the drivers lives.

For the years they’d spent watching over the races, chatting with sponsors and consulting staff, they’d always stay with one team for a season. Be it a successful one or one on the decline - they didn’t judge in any way. They’d frequently chat with Niki Lauda, seeing him grow old over the years was rough but they were very glad to have him around. He was still a man of the old mindset, less caring about their origins and more about their personality. And money, after all, finance was his origin. 

That day in 1994, they sat with the Benetton mechanics. Benneton was a great team for them to be around, so young and riddled with fresh ideas and talent. Niki Lauda, a frequent yet unseen guest was visiting them again. He didn’t care too much for the team, just appearing for their old friend.

Slowly he settled onto one of the chairs they had placed around, letting out a sigh. “Y/N, truly am I jealous of you sometimes.”

Y/N laid their head to the side, grinning. Their currently very fashionable pinned up hair falling to the side. They were such a victim to trends, always following along or partaking. Trends were a good way to hide or disappear under.

“Aging sucks, you know that?” Niki cursed, sorting his iconic red hat.

With a chuckle, Y/N punched his shoulder. “Shouldn't you head back to Ferrari? You’re their advisor, not ours. And I bet you 20 Mark that nobody wants the enemy in their pit.”

He looked at her with an offended face. “This old man walks all the way to meet you and what do you do? Tell me to fuck off. Also ‘not ours’? You change allegiances faster than underwear.”

They shook their head. “Niki, you know how it is. I can’t stay long anywhere. Also, what are you talking about, old man? What are you, barely 45?”

“I look old compared to you, you know. This face doesn’t make me look like an icon of vitality.”

“Can’t you send Gerhard over? He’s more fun than you.”

Niki cursed again. Y/N would always tease him like that.

With a serious expression he turned towards them again. “That Schumacher..”

“Go on Niki, speak your words.”

“You are very annoying, did anyone tell you that?”

"Absolutely. Stirling Moss would always banter with me.”

He cursed again. “Anyway, that Schumacher guy. Has he got a long contract? Because I think we could use a driver like that. Jean isn’t the youngest anymore and Gerhard also could use a break, I think.”

“Want to steal our driver? No way in hell! Leave right now!”

Y/N jokingly lifted Niki out of his chair, taking one of the brooms to shoo him away. He came to a quick standstill, however. His face was serious again. “Y/N, i’ve known you awhile. Whenever you stay so glued to a team, something happens. What will-”

His words were cut off by them whistling a tune. The chain by Fleetwood Mac. 

He sighed, finally leaving.

Y/N took the chance to head into the garage, “What’s Upping” a few of the mechanics and sending Michael a nod. Finally they had reached their target, young reserve driver Jos Verstappen. Or half reserve driver, since Benneton originally had set their horses on JJ Lehto. He was just lacing up his boots, looking in the air with a concentrated expression. He knew this race would not be his to shine. This was the German GP of 1994, the homerace of driver number 1, Michael Schumacher.

They just padded his shoulder with a constrained expression. Jos knew, this meant something bad would happen. He hoped it just wouldn't hit him.

As destiny however had planned before his prayers, he was the one incurring it’s wrath. Refueling gone wrong, his body on fire. Y/N had stood in the pits watching, the flames reflecting on their eyes. Afterwards Niki had approached them again, his lips pressed into a stern line. “Will there be more of this crap, this season?”

Y/N looked up at him in pain. “You better steel your heart Lauda. Because I already did.”

Multiple smaller incidents but nothing could overshadow the pain left in everyone's hearts. The loss of Senna and Ratzenberger. Afterwards, Niki had reconsidered his friendship with Y/N. They were almost like a harbinger of doom. In some way it was comforting however. He knew they’d tell him if he were to get hurt.

In 1997, at one such Grand Prix he had seen them again. The hairs on his arms standing up, cold shivers running down his back. Y/N just comforted them. “Nothing bad this time, Niki. I’m here to meet our future.”

“Our future?” He asked. 

“Come and see” was their reply, leading the dazzled man up to the Tyrrel pit box. There, a soft baby's cry could be heard. A little red faced thing was there, wrapped into a soft blanket, looking very young.

“Hello Jos!” Y/N had exclaimed. “I brought a friend to see your youngling!”

The man had looked up in surprise at Niki Lauda standing there, staring at his son. “Uhm.” With a still unsure expression he slowly lifted the babe up. “Nice to meet you, Niki. This is my Son, MaxEmilian.”

Niki took the baby for a moment, just as unsure as the fresh baked father before handing it to Y/N. They gingerly held it, staring into those little, still so young looking eyes. Their eyes darting towards Jos for a moment before going back to little Max. “You will have a hard early life, little one. I wish I could help you but I cannot, always destined to be a bystander.”  They lifted one of the fingers which the baby seemed to follow. “But I know that you will prevail, proving yourself. If there’s anyone that can be considered our future, that’ll be you.”

5 years later at the Japanese Grand Prix, Y/N was seen sitting in the Minardi Hospitality. There they were playing with a little child, just a bit red faced than before. Max was pushing the vintage toy cars that Y/N had given them around. Niki stood beside them, judging those cars.

“Y/N, did you buy them in an antique shop?”

“Antique?” They were offended. “I only bought them a few years ago, I just knew I’d need them.”

“Define ‘a few years ago’. I know you and I count in very different ways.”

They seemed to ponder. “I remember buying them with Giles, back when he heard he was going to be a father. So uh.. Maybe thirty?”

“God Y/N…”

“Wait, that’s the wrong ones. Those i gave to Michael for Mick. These are others.”

Niki cursed again. “Y/N, please. Consider my blood pressure.”

“I think i remember. It’s only a few more years. It was Graham who had picked them out, you know. I don’t have taste in such things.”

He pinched the skin between his eyebrows, sighing loudly. “I really wish you would act reasonable once in your life.”

“I definitely did that once before at least.”

“Tell me then!”

“I’d rather not. The date might shock you.”

"Goddammit."

At that moment, two kinds of toy cars hit their leg. Little Max had encountered little Mick who was barely out and about. Both had combined their set of race cars, now pretending to play ‘Grand Prix’ with a route made out of tossed cable ties and napkins. Most likely, Max was actively playing cars and Mick was just pushing things around with a little toddler grin on his face. “Y/N, you’re in the way!” Little Max complained with an angry voice, letting his car repeatedly drive against their legs.

They looked up in surprise. “Sorry Max, I’m moving.”

Stepping to the side, Niki questioned again. “Y/N, why are you stuck to these kids?”

They sighed. “They’ll have it rough, in different ways.”

“Doesn't everybody?”

“Oh Niki, you just don’t know.”

“Well obviously, I can’t know if you don’t tell me.” Y/N tried to interject. “I know, I know. You can’t tell me. We’ve been through this spiel many times.

That day, Y/N had left for quite a while. They’d stayed at Jaguar when Niki was there, stayed with Red Bull for a moment. Then they disappeared from the scene, only returning in 2015. It was the first race of the season and there they stood, right before the Toro Rosso hospitality, requesting to go in. Some youngin checking passes looked at them in confusion. “Sorry, uhm… You can’t go in. That pass, it’s ancient, you know. Gotta update it.”

Y/N stared at their entrance pass in confusion. Bernie Ecclestone had given it to them right after his takeover. Full access to everything. “I can’t even scan it! And look at that paper. Where’d you even drag this old thing out from?”

Y/N was purely baffled, eyes trained on the young man ahead. Things really had changed. As they wanted to speak up, one of the older employees noticed them standing there. He was still there from the good old Minardi Days.

“Y/N, is that you?”

He cursed, approaching them. “Dang, people were right. You really don’t change.”

They chuckled while the youngin stared in confusion. 

“Go away, Peter. Maybe get this badge remade. Don’t worry about it, the FIA knows what’s going on. At least I  hope so?”

The youngin quickly rushed off. This whole thing was way too strange for him.

“So Y/N, what finally made you return? We’ve all turned old.” He said, patting his now well shaped stomach. 

“I heard Max is making his Grand Prix debut today. I came to greet him.”

The man chuckled. “Right. Him and little Mick were always your favourites. Come, I’ll lead you.”

The new pit had awed Y/N. So much technology, so many things with a different appearance becoming almost unrecognizable. Yet there in the back stood a person they were sure to always recognise. 

“Hello Max, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Max jumped up as he heard that voice. His face was full of surprise, eyes so wide. 

“Y-Y/N”

Said person smiled.

“It’s been ages! Where have you been?”

“Here and there, you know. Seeing more of the world.”

Max looked at them again, his eyes shaking. “It’s my F1 debut today, you know…”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“Really? For me?” he looked so hopeful, deep lyiing hurt glittering in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Then-”

Before finishing he rushed away, returning with a little beat up Box. “Look!”

He opened the Box, revealing a few now very beat up toy boxes and letters.

“Thank you for these, Y/N. They helped me stay true to my goal. Keeping my focus.”

His eyes were shaking now, watering. Y/N just spread their arms in response, cradling him like a child. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d get here, one way or another. And now look at you? That young and in a league with all these old guys.”

Max sniffled, holding her tightly. “Mom told me not to go with unknown adults.”

“What, I’m definitely a trusted adult.”

Back at the beginning of 2018, Y/N had left the Red Bull Team to stay with Mercedes. Max had understood, knowing Y/N had their reasons to do things. Niki had cursed when he saw them again.

“I really look like your grandfather now.”

He sighed, sitting down again. “I’m old and tired, Y/N.”

They smiled sadly. “I’m aware.”

His face turned sad as well. “Your prophecies were so true again. I sometimes wish you’d use them in a different way. Little Max and Mick would both experience hardship.”

Y/N had their lips pulled into a thin line again. Niki looked at her with an angry expression. “I know you well enough, seeing you appear means something will happen here.”

He huffed. “This time I’m ahead of you. I know I’m not well. My body…It’s reached its limit, hasn’t it? I’ve defied fate so many times but everyone got their limit.”

Y/N patted the almost 70 year old man on the shoulder. Their smile turned more comforting. “Could you greet Wolfgang for me? Tell him that I still sing that little song he taught me?”

“Scheiße, what do you think? That i’m the social services? Do that yourself! I refuse. You can do that on the day fate picks you up.”

That was the last time they had spoken.

Niki passed away in 2019. That was the first and only time Max Verstappen had seen them the cry. The all so stoic Y/N had broken down, crying on his shoulder. Max, unsure of what to do, patted their back like you’d do to a dog. 

When 2021 came, Y/N was back to mad cheering. Max was Champion after all!

The party was mad. Everyone was crying, sniffling and drinking. Kelly had brought Penelope with her who was like a little sun in the restaurant. Max himself was shining just as much, lifting his trophy repeatedly and as much as he could lift the alcohol anyone was willing to pour him. 

When night came and Penelope was tired, Kelly had carried her outside, beckoning Y/N to follow her.

Her face looked serious as she looked at them. “What are you, Y/N?”

They tilted their head again. “What do you mean, Kelly?”

“I remember you, though others apparently don’t. Or they do and just accept you without a second thought. When dad took me to the races, I saw you there. You are the same as you were back them. Your hair’s different but that’s it.”

Y/N hummed. It was Wolfgang’s Melody.

Kelly frowned when no answer was coming. “Then at least tell me this, will you hurt any of us?”

“Hurt?” Y/N looked on, offended. “I’ve never hurt a fly.”

“Then…” Kelly continued. “Why are you here?”

Y/N pondered before fishing around their pockets. “I’m immortal. I am Fate. Make of that what you will.” They then produced a little toy car, just of the same kind as Max had gotten years ago. “Give this to P once she’s awake, will you?”

Kelly just nodded. Y/N left.

Max missed them dearly. After his win, nothing of Y/N could be seen or heard. He’d asked the old mechanics and they all said the same to him. “They’ll appear when they want to.”

That’s how Max grew older and older, never seeing them again. 

Slowly but surely the mysterious figure escaped from the back of his mind, not of importance to his successful life. 

Everything crashed down when his father passed away. Max started spiraling, his entire life was planned and decided by Jos. How exactly should he go on now? 

At the funeral, he saw them. Approaching with a delicate umbrella over their head, dressed in vintage funeral gear.

Max stared in shock, never expecting to see them again. 

Y/N stared at the fresh grave, placing down a little wreath of flowers. “Jos, I really wish I could punch you. But alas, I can’t. Fate caught you as well.”

Max hesitated, staring at them. Instead of speaking, Y/N just engulfed him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, Max. I can’t interfere with your life much more. I wish I could but this is beyond me.”

From there, he once again didn’t see them again. Years passed, Seasons changed. His hair grew gray, his skin got wrinkly and his body heavy.

With a nice summer day rolling around he laid in his bed, his grandchildren had just left the room, window open and curtain fluttering. Max stared at the shaking curtain, once again getting surprised by a voice. “Hello Max.”

He slowly turned to the side, spotting Y/N sitting on the chair that had just been sat on by Penelope. They were dressed like he remembered during his childhood, their face sad.

“Hello, Y/N.” His voice was silent, weak. 

“Has my time come?”

A sniffle rang out as Y/N leaned forward to touch his hand.

“Yes.”

He nodded. “I see.”

The silence was surprisingly comfortable. “Can you tell me now, what you are? I’m about to die anyway so…”

Y/N chuckled. “Always the smart boy, you were.”

They got up, their appearance changing to something ancestral. “I’m immortal. You could also call me Fate.”

“Fate…” Max rolled the words around on his tongue. “So will I see you in the afterlife?”

Y/N lowered their eyelashes. “If Destiny decides to release me from my duties, possibly. I cannot see my own path. Will you greet Niki for me?”

Max nodded again, folding his hands.

“I will. It was great to see you again.”

Akin to a sigh, Y/N saw his soul depart. With a tear running down their face they settled back onto the chair. 

“I knew you’d be great. I just knew…”

And you're a cherry blossom

You're about to bloom

You look so pretty, but you're gone so soon

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