#marxipann

[marxipann]

I love all of them, your honor.

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[marxipann]

We were robbed.

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[marxipann]

Egghead

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[marxipann]

“if it weren’t for the baby”

I thought I would do something a bit different for a little bit of a laugh :)

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[marxipann]

I was following the Strawhats

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[marxipann]

wondering where ive been? ive been writing! im almost half way done with my superbat fic, but I need the motivation to keep going…

so here is a short excerpt from the first chapter! it isnt on ao3 yet, so consider this a special sneak peek!

Let me know how you feel in the comments! ask me anything!

...

A quick interview was all Bruce agreed to when his advisors suggested it. Meet with this news reporter about the new financial quarter and how he expects their stocks to skyrocket, yadda yadda yadda. Blah blah blah. He really wishes he could bail, but he does have a mask to maintain, making sure his alter ego Bruce Wayne is presentable.

In walks this tall, cute, and curly-haired puppy, who looks more like he writes about the local high school football games than about the financial district. Definitely not who he was expecting. But it seems like the puppy dog persona didn’t stay in place for long; Bruce almost immediately noticed a strange frequency interfering with his contact lenses. Mr. Kent was hiding something, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Clark looked behind himself and found his chair. Reaching into his bag, he fumbled with his recorder. He took a deep breath and pressed play, “Clark Kent interviewing Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises.” He looked up at the billionaire, “So, Mr. Wayne,” he cleared his throat, “how long have you had this building?” The reporter looked around the room, noticing the family heirlooms on the wall, quickly noting the antiques in his legal pad, not sparing any details.

Bruce smirked down a bit, “Well, it was built back in 1888 by my great-great-grandfather,” he sat down in his leather office chair, “It was passed down. After my father died, it went to me. I added a few additions over the years, but” Bruce paused, “I think I've done a good job at keeping its history alive.”

Clark was in the middle of writing down his last quote when Bruce interrupted his thoughts, “You got right down to business, didn’t you?” said with another chuckle.

“Well, I know you’re a busy man.” Clark was only half telling the truth. The other reason was that he was nervous he was going to screw this whole interview up by just being himself. As his doubts started to settle in his mind, Clark looked up momentarily to catch a glimpse of Wayne’s vague smile. He suddenly forgot his uncertainties.

He continued, “So,” if he was able to sweat, he would’ve started about now. Clark adjusted himself in his seat. “Has your family always had…money?”

Bruce can feel the beginning of a headache start to set behind his eyes; the contact lenses have not stopped glitching out over the reporter’s glasses. He focused his lenses to adjust the aperture. There, he started to see it, but Bruce can also see Kent’s discomfort with the question he just asked.

“Huh?” Bruce spurted out loud, trying to adjust his eyes to the light shining on the reporter’s face. He momentarily got lost in how the sunlight cascaded behind his irises. But he told himself he was only focusing for the lenses. Yeah…for the lenses…

“What?” Clark tripped up, “D-did you need me to repeat the question?”

“No, that's-” Bruce took a short breath. “Is that really the question you want to ask me?” his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“Well…yes?” Clark’s voice trailed off, but came back shortly with honesty. His gaze went distant. “...No, not really.” Bruce stared intently as Clark started to look defeated. He looked down at his notepad, “Look, I know you haven’t really read up on my work, but this isn’t my usual beat. Lois sent me with some questions to ask, but I guess I'm just not sure as to why you agreed to this interview.” He looked up from his writing, “You don’t do many of these.”

Bruce’s contacts had finally stopped glitching for a moment to see Clark’s true face, his true identity. He could recognize that jawline from anywhere.

*…There you are…Superman…that's why you looked so familiar…And those eyes…those blue eyes…those are Superman’s eyes…*

...

[marxipann]

Zuko was being polite.

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[marxipann]

Supernatural S1

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