#so does lex apparently.

[foughtbelief]

i TRULY need to either commission someone the "dancing in the rain" scene between arthur and alexios, or draw it myself

[fairyroses]

When did you get to be so wise?

— SMALLVILLE, “Obscura” (1.20)

[starlooove]

“Rich white boy when he’s a thousand other things” what is he that negates the traits listed. Quickly.

[murmeloni]

I need more fanboy Clark Kent in my life.

Like, he's seen Bruce Wayne interact with a child once and immediately fell in love with the guy. Now his bedroom walls are plastered with posters and he follows several social media accounts focused on capturing pictures of Bruce with kids and/or animals etc. He defends Bruce to anyone, no matter the antics he gets up to and it has become a bit of a running gag around the office.

Then, one day, Cat is out sick and someone jokingly suggests Clark should cover the gala in her stead, seeing as Bruce Wayne will be there and maybe this'll be Clark's shot to finally get his man? To everyone's surprise, Perry really does assign the gala coverage to Clark, who spends the days leading up to the event in a state somewhere between absolute panic and ultimate bliss.

But when the day finally arrives, Bruce doesn't show.

Of course Clark does his job and interviews everyone there (yes, even Lex Luthor) but a part of him spends all night waiting for Bruce to crash the party late, like he so often does.

Eventually, Clark gives up hope and it's shortly after that, that he stumbles upon one of the children dragged along to the event by their parents. Because apparently someone thought a charity gala was a good environment for an eight year old. The parents are nowhere in sight and the child is close to tears, so Clark makes it his mission to cheer the little girl up, regaling her with stories from his upbringing on a Kansas farm while he searches the crowd for her family.

With Clark thus occupied, he doesn't notice Bruce Wayne finally making his appearance for the night. But Bruce definitely notices him. The gentle giant who's all kind smiles and corny jokes... Until he finds the girl's parents. Uncaring of the fact that he's here on a job and that these people are richer than any one person should be and could easily sue him into oblivion, he takes them aside, fire in his eyes, and tears them a new one for losing track of their kid like this. Anything could have happened to her and maybe the readers of the Daily Planet would like to know about that? After all, how reliable and trustworthy could a company whose CEOs won't even look after their own daughter really be?

Bruce is immediately smitten. The passive-aggressive lecture and subtle threats - not to mention the broad shoulders and handsome face - are incredibly attractive to him and he wastes no time cornering the man afterwards.

Clark, who is so starstruck by the mere sight of Bruce coming towards him that he loses the ability to speak, nearly faints when Bruce just straight up shoves his tongue into his mouth. They end up in one of the coat rooms and Clark thinks that's it, just a one night stand. It sucks that he won't see Bruce again, but the night was amazing and at least he has the memory to treasure, right?

He thinks that right up until he gets to work the next day and two dozen red roses are waiting for him on his desk. There's a handwritten card nestled inbetween the petals and on it is the name of a restaurant along with a date and time. It's signed by Bruce.

And that is how Clark gets together with his celebrity crush.

[corkinavoid]

I just found this in my notes

Apparently, I woke up at 5:23 in the morning, wrote it down, and went straight back to sleep. Trust my hyperfixated ass to still be making content even as I'm unconscious.

Anyways, yes,

DPxDC Trust Me, I'm an Engineer

Danny is half-ghost, but he is also a child of two mad scientists who spent the better part of their lives elbow deep in building all kinds of stuff out of all kinds of junk. Imagine what their kid, who loves science and engineering as much as they do, if not more, can accomplish?

When he moves to Gotham, he decides to leave all the heroics behind, hanging up his cape. Surely, he will be fine - Gotham has, like, what, six? seven? ten? vigilantes of its own. They don't need any more, and, besides, Danny is fairly certain he doesn't work that great in teams.

But there's just... so much crime happening.

Danny doesn't want to get involved, not really. He's retired. But he wants to help somehow!

So, he starts building unconventional devices for self-defense. A rubber duck that shoots lasers out of its eyes? A fork that turns into a shocker? A rice cooker that defends your home in case of an attack? A pen that transforms into a gas mask? You name it, he can build it.

It escalates quickly. Someone asks him to upgrade a baby carriage to a full impenetrable robot that will protect the baby inside it, and Danny decides why not. It's for safety. He installs countless safety measures so nothing could be triggered by mistake, and even though by the end the carriage doesn't look that much different, it proves effective in the first serious accident. In fact, it is so effective that it saves a total of five hostages, including the baby inside it, who didn't even cry because there are soundproof shields inside and recordings of the baby mother's voice.

Danny builds more of those carriages. Then he switches to home defenses. Then someone asks him to make brass knuckles that turn into a gauntlet shield in case of attack. Danny does a thorough check to make sure it won't fall into the wrong hands, but he ends up making it.

It doesn't take too much time for him to start making full-on robotic suits for people. Bulletproof, running on clean energy - Gotham has plenty of residue ectoplasm - with built-in defense mechanisms and stuff.

It is at this point that the Bats start taking a closer look at his inventions. Before that, they thought it was just some Rogue in the making, and they kept an eye on Danny, but never once has he created anything with the purpose of offense instead of defence, so they let it slide. But then Tim gets his hands on one of the suits and comes back to Bruce, nearly salivating over it.

A few weeks later, Danny gets an internship at WE. A year later, he is invited to work with the JL.

And that's when it hits him.

M e c h a s.

He can do real, actual mecha-suits for heroes. He can make them fit those heroes perfectly, enhancing their strengths and negating the weaknesses.

No alien invasion fucks with Earth anymore, because when they do, the JL just grabs their Danny Fenton Suits and whatever evil aliens were aiming to take control are annihilated in no time.

Maybe Tucker joins him along the way. Maybe Danny has an arms race with Lex Luthor, maybe Cyborg bonds with him over the mechanical rambling. What I'm saying is, cool robots for everyone!

[emo-batboy]

Battinson on SNL

Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀

SO

To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”

But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.

Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨

But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.

They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.

So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.

He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?

Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.

It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:

OPENING MONOLOGUE

It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.

To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.

Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”

It’s working. The audience loves it.

Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.

Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.

There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.

Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!

(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)

SKIT #1

Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)

The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀

Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.

Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.

PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”

He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.

PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”

SKIT #2

For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.

It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.

He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.

Yes, he IS sparkly.

Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”

Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.

Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”

Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”

Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.

SKIT #3

The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.

Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another. 

Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.

Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.

At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”

This time, the mic bit is a bit different.

Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”

Board dings! That was the #1 answer

Brucie Wayne for the win

SKIT #4

Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”

The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…

But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.

Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”

A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…

We hear some generic hero music play…

And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume

(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)

Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”

Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.

Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”

He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”

CLOSING SEGMENT

Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.

Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)

News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”

News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”

News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”

It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!

News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”

And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.

The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.

Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.

THE END

LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D

[htub]

Literally genuinely FORGOT Lex is evil. We've reached a new low

[suzukiblu]

If you feel up for it, for the writing meme prompt, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, with the song You And Me by Lifehouse? If it's not your thing I totally get it though and hope you have a great time and fun writing the things that do catch your fancy!

I think we ALL knew that I was gonna do baby Kon for this, lbr. Also ngl, this came out way more cracky than the prompt would suggest it should've but it is absolutely my favorite thing I’ve written for this meme so far, as the necessity for the following cut should help attest, haha.

Unfortunately, Lex takes one look at Cadmus’s progress report on the newly-crafted Experiment Thirteen and realizes he has paternal instincts. 

Well, that’s inconvenient. And a little disgusting, honestly. Certainly a disappointment. 

He supposes it could be worse. He could be Lionel about this. 

Anyway, that’s how he has a physiological four year-old on his lap when he hears the news about Superman coming back to life and fistfighting an evil cyborg with his own face about it, because of course the man didn’t have the decency to just stay dead. Why would he, after all? 

Lex needs a drink. That would be a bad example for the physiological four year-old, though. 

Then again, Experiment Thirteen should be completely immune to the effects of Earth-based alcohol in about another four to six months of consistent yellow sun exposure, so . . . 

Lex is halfway through his second brandy when Superman shows up on his balcony at super-speed wearing a very pretentiously dramatic black suit and looking both winded and bewildered. And still alive, unfortunately. 

“Don’t you have a murderous cyborg to be ensuring is in custody?” Lex asks dryly, deciding to just not acknowledge the presence of the physiological four year-old who’s moved on to messily but methodically coloring on the floor underneath his desk. Lex didn’t actually give Experiment Thirteen either a coloring book or crayons, mind, but he appreciates the clone’s resourcefulness in breaking into the office supplies. Anyway, it’s useful for developing its hand-eye coordination and fine motor control. 

Superman’s pupils are pin-pricks, barely even there at all. Which is an unusual reaction from him, and Lex notes that fact reflexively but doesn’t particularly care about it. Meant-to-be-dead people do unusual things, especially the alien ones. And it isn’t as if–

“Baby,” Superman blurts, his eyes wide. 

Lex . . . pauses. Takes a slow sip of his brandy. 

Alright then. 

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” he settles on eventually, raising an eyebrow at him. Experiment Thirteen peers out from under the desk, immediately decides Superman isn’t an interesting presence, and then goes back to coloring all over Lex’s floor. It seems to be drawing either a puppy or a chain of complex genetic sequencing, but judging by the kinds of things it’s been drawing so far, it’s fifty-fifty. Lex has been getting the impression the clone actually likes art, which is a baffling interest to find in his own progeny, but how does that quote go . . . “I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet”? 

Or something like that, anyway. 

“No, I–baby,” Superman stresses, looking bewildered as he floats down a little closer to the open balcony door. 

“. . . yes, I’ve noticed,” Lex repeats, raising his eyebrow again and taking another sip of brandy. Superman looks frazzled, bobbing up a little higher in the air again to get a better view of Experiment Thirteen under the desk. Experiment Thirteen keeps ignoring him in favor of its coloring, displaying no apparent interest in the most powerful uninvited guest in the history of illegal immigration. Lex experiences a moment of overwhelming paternal pride, which is such a bizarre and unanticipated experience that he doesn’t even know what to do with it. 

“Where’d he come from?” Superman asks with a wondering expression. Ugh.

“A cloning lab,” Lex replies dismissively, setting his near-empty glass down on the desk. It’s hardly worth lying about Experiment Thirteen’s origins at this point. He didn’t want to murder everyone in Cadmus to keep the secret. He might need them if there’s an issue with Experiment Thirteen’s genetics later, after all. “We mixed it up a couple weeks ago while you were off wasting everyone’s time being dead."

“You had my baby?” Superman says, tilting in the air and still staring at Experiment Thirteen, as if he's somehow forgotten both how much kryptonite Lex owns and how much kryptonite he keeps specifically in this office. “While I was dead. You had my baby while I was dead.” 

. . . alright then, Lex thinks again, both eyebrows raising this time. 

“I really wouldn’t put it that way, personally,” he says. “Also, I don’t recall saying it was in any way yours.”

“Baby,” Superman repeats inanely, then lands on the floor and ducks down into a crouch to peer under the desk better, his pupils still reduced to barely-there pinpricks. Lex is so mystified he doesn't even activate the security system or the weaponized red sun lamps. Experiment Thirteen frowns at Superman–Lex, again, basks in unanticipated paternal pride–and then turns its back on him and hides all its drawings from him as seriously and carefully as if they were under NDA. 

It's almost adorable, frankly. 

Not that Lex finds things adorable, of course. 

“His heartbeat's so cute,” Superman says, looking absolutely fascinated. Which is surprisingly useful of him to mention, actually, since Lex had previously been vaguely concerned that Experiment Thirteen's odd thrumming heartbeat might be a sign of a heart defect, but apparently it’s just a Kryptonian thing. A . . . “cute” Kryptonian thing, according to Superman. 

Lex is increasingly mystified by this interaction. 

“Can’t say I’ve spent much time listening to it, personally,” he lies, because he has in fact obsessed over that heartbeat’s health and stability since first finding out about its unusualness and has done a truly aggravating amount of research into heart murmurs and conditions and the like. But that’s hardly Superman’s business, now is it. 

“. . . what’s his name?” Superman asks hesitantly. Lex is possibly having an out of body experience. 

“Experiment Thirteen,” he says. Superman immediately looks offended. 

“We need to give him a name, Lex,” he says. Lex, again, has an out of body experience. 

“‘We’?” he repeats incredulously. “I made it, I get to decide what it’s called.” 

“He’s got my DNA!” Superman protests, looking indignant. Lex has absolutely no idea how to process that expression. 

“It has both our DNA, in fact, yours was too irritating to stabilize alone,” Lex informs him dubiously. More accurately it was literally impossible to stabilize alone, but he’s not mentioning that to Superman. “So it has my DNA, and I made it. And also put eight point two billion dollars into its production, as a lowball estimate. Therefore I’m the one who decides what its name is, thank you very much.” 

“Lex,” Superman says disapprovingly. “You can’t call a baby Experiment Thirteen.” 

“It’s physiologically developed enough to complain if it doesn’t like it,” Lex retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. Superman frowns at him. Lex has never had a more ridiculous conversation with the man, including all the times Superman’s tried to appeal to his nonexistent “better nature”. “Well it is.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Superman says, then ducks back down and peers at Experiment Thirteen again, gentling his voice to address it while Lex is still incredulously mouthing “ridiculous”? to himself. “Would you like a real name, kiddo?” 

Experiment Thirteen sticks its tongue out at him. 

Lex is finding parenthood to be a very rewarding experience, actually. 

[monstersandmaw]

My love letter to Scar and Lex from AVP

aka 'why AVP is definitely a love story XD'

(I was talking to someone about this yesterday who is definitely not a monsterfucker, and they were not convinced by my take on AVP at all XD. I think this is definitely a monsterfucker spin on the movie)

_

her expression when she's peeking through the wall and watching him go through his scarring ritual is curious, not fearful

he's obviously curious about her too, and doesn't attack, letting her say her piece before deciding what to do about her

she's the one who calls him friend first :) (admittedly, it's in an 'enemy of my enemy' context, but hey)

he could kill her here, but hesitates a long time:

He's clearly torn about letting her come with him, but when he sees her looking at him like this, he can't help but want to assist her:

He does not have time to waste hacking a xenomorph to bits, let alone giving Lex Xeno Biology: 101, but he does it all the same, and he even makes a little joke to lighten the situation

He cobbles together some gear to keep her safe:

His plucky human goes first into the danger ahead, but he's there, guarding her back. Plus, he's taller so he can see ahead too:

He lets her take care of her friend and doesn't butcher him to get at the parasite/hatchling/chestburster. Instead he waits for her to leave, then catches the thing and destroys it (so as not to upset her further?):

Even in the heart of the hatchery, where time is 100% of the essence, he pauses yet again to explain the self-destruct feature on his vambrace to her: (10/10 for communication, Scar)

Yautja can run way faster than humans, but he stays half a pace behind her for the entire escape sequence:

Tell me this isn't the face of a man in wonder at the person before him:

And Lex isn't exactly... unaffected... oof

Then he waits for her to nod her consent, and does a really tidy job of marking her as a Blooded, and his concentration is to the max!! (his little purr after he's finished is so cute too). The he bows in respect to her. She may be human, but she's his equal as a warrior.

After Lex has saved his life and injured (and seriously pissed off) the Alien Queen, and while she's tearing the place to bits to get at Lex, Scar does the most Extra™ spin attack to draw her attention away from Lex, lodging his combistick right through her face. Bad. Ass!

Then while Lex gets away, he roars and flares his mandibles in a challenge at the Queen, which gives Lex the opportunity she needs to pick up the chain, and the two of them haul on it together and work seamlessly. They clearly understand each other without the need for words, or ego. This is very much a Team Effort:

He protecc:

Bonus Alien vs Predator shot :)

This heartbreaking scene, where he feels like he's trying to tell her something (in the novel, he apparently says 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' in her voice...)

Lex seems genuinely grief-stricken when he dies:

I wonder how long she stayed there like that before the Ancient's ship showed up?

Lex' final expression:

In short, this definitely is an inter-species love story and you can pry that theory from my cold, dead little claws :).

Also why did he have to die??? T.T

[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 6)

Masterpost

Lois prides herself at being good at rolling with the unexpected. Unfortunately, all of her experience with aliens and supervillains and magic has not prepared her for Danny.

Danny has a disconcerting habit of dropping disturbing or traumatizing information in an off-hand way, seeming to not even realize the implications of his own words. It started with what he said about the dimension he'd grown up in discriminating against people with powers, then with what he'd said about the red son and the lack of superheroes, but it just keeps happening.

Lois tries not to call attention to it, because she prefers it to the alternative, which is Danny shutting himself up in his room and refusing to talk to any of them.

Lex Luthor is on the nightly news-- as he so often is-- and Lois has to explain the man's many crimes to Danny. (No, Jon, it is not a rant.)

"Oh," Danny says. "He sounds like Vlad."

"Vlad?" Lois asks.

"Yeah, Vlad Masters. He's my godfather. He's a total fruitloop who wanted to marry my mom and make me his son."

Lois carefully does not react. She wants Danny to tell her things. She wants to know what his life was like when she wasn't in it. "That sounds..."

"Yeah, he tried to clone me. Well, I guess he succeeded, but none of them were stable except for Ellie, and she wasn't really that stable to begin with."

"Ellie?"

"Yeah, short for Danielle. She went by Dani-with-an-I for a while, but she decided she wanted her own name."

That is not the part Lois was looking for clarification on. She goes with it anyway. "Tell me about her," Lois says, and tries not to be concerned about Danny’s descriptions of a teenage girl who apparently lives and travels on her own because she doesn't like to be stuck in one place. Ellie doesn't even get the full benefit of being quarter Kryptonian, living in a world with a red sun.

The four of them are sitting down to dinner-- pizza again; one of them should probably cook sometime this week, but Lois and Clark are both on deadlines-- when Clark asks Danny more about his adoptive family, the ones he grew up with.

He looks sad, the way he always does whenever his adoptive parents come up.   Lois can hardly blame him, when he lost them in such a sudden and traumatic way.  

"They're scientists," Danny says.  "Or they were.  They studied, um, the Ghost Zone and the things that live there.  They didn't really understand it at first-- they thought all the-- um, everything from there was evil and needed to be killed, but they learned they were wrong eventually."

Lois meets Clark's eyes and knows he is as concerned about what happened before that 'eventually' as she is.  Still, neither of them comment, not wanting Danny to clam up again..

Jon, however, has no such reservations.  "That's really messed up."

Danny shrugs.  "Yeah, kind of.  They came around, though.  And I think they blamed themselves for how bad the GIW got because they were the ones who designed the weapons."

"The GIW?" Lois asks, instead of what she really wants to know, which is: Your adoptive parents designed weapons to be used against beings from another dimension??? Did they know what you were? 

"Guys in White," Danny says.  "I don't think that was their real name, but they were from the government."

"Your parents built weapons for them?" Clark asks, his tone deceptively light.  "I thought they were scientists."

"They dabbled in a lot of things.  But they were fantastic engineers."  Danny segues into a story about some of the modifications his adoptive parents made to their car, which is a topic only slightly better for Lois's heart.

Later that night, Lois is sitting in bed, checking her emails on her phone, when Clark sits down next to her and turns on the white noise machine they keep on the nightstand.  (It's the only way to have private conversations when your child-- children-- have super-hearing.)

"I'm concerned about Danny," he says.

"No shit."  The more Danny tells them about the dimension he grew up in, the more Lois hates it.  "But there's nothing we can do now except be there for him."

"I know people who have traveled across dimensions, you know," Clark says.  "I could always ask for a favor."

"You won't," Lois says.  "Because if you do, I'm going to end up committing felonies in another dimension."  

Clark smiles humorlessly. "What makes you think I wouldn't be there with you?"

"Because you're a better person than I am."  Clark never believes her when she says that, but it's true.  Clark is a fundamentally good person.  Lois tries to be a good person, but there's a reason she's not a superhero.  

-----

Kon intended to stop by Metropolis several days ago.  Or at least call Clark back.  But he’d gotten sidetracked by an earthquake in Southeast Asia, and then by Dr Light causing problems in California.  

He gets a few hours of sleep back in Smallville, then remembers that he’d planned on dropping by Metropolis and meeting Danny days before.  He walks the last few blocks to Lois and Clark’s house— flying would be way too noticeable in their neighborhood— and lets himself in.  He walks up to the living room and spots Lois there, furiously typing on her laptop.  

Kon is man enough to admit, at least within his own head, that Lois kind of intimidates him. Sure, Clark is physically stronger, but there’s an intensity to Lois that Clark lacks.  She glances up at Kon, and even though she’s smiling, he still feels pinned under her gaze.  

Kon shifts uncomfortably, reminds himself that unless he turns into a corrupt businessman or something, he’s not actually in danger from Lois Lane.  

“You here to see Danny?” she asks.

“Yeah.”  Kon shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.  “I figured I should probably meet him.”

“He’s in his room,” Lois says.  “He’s not… It’s not a good day, but maybe he’ll talk to you.  He hasn’t exactly gotten the chance to be around anyone his own age since he showed up.”

Kon knocks on the door to Danny’s room.  

“Come in,” a voice calls from inside.

Kon’s first thought is that he looks more like Clark than Danny does.  Stupid; of course he does.  He’s Clark’s clone.  But then, Jon resembles Clark almost as strongly as Kon does, so maybe it wasn’t a completely stupid thought.

Danny is sprawled on his stomach across his bed, phone in his hand.  There’s a video playing on it— someone talking about the history of the Justice League— but he’s ignoring it, watching Kon with a wary expression.  The room is still as bland as it ever was; other than the clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor, there’s no sign a teenage boy lives here.

“I’m guessing you’re Kon?” 

“That’s me.”  They stare at each other awkwardly for a moment.  

“Have you actually seen any of Metropolis, or have you just been hanging out in here?” Kon asks.

“Lois took me shopping for some stuff,” Danny says.

“Okay, no,” Kon says.  “You have got to get out of this house.”  

“You don’t even live in Metropolis,” Danny says.  

Kon shrugs. “Doesn’t matter; I’ve spent more time here than you.” There’s an old-school arcade he’s been to a handful of times, and a couple of places to eat.  Anything has got to be better than Danny hanging out and brooding in this sad bedroom by himself.

It's a warm day outside.  The sun shines down on the two of them as they walk in near-silence toward downtown.  The awkward silence doesn't quite break until they're at the arcade, competing on an old racing game.  

"I don't think we have this one in my dimension.  The other dimension.  Whatever."  Danny says.

"Yeah?"  Kon speeds ahead of Danny in the game, just in time to cross the finish line.  Danny groans.

"Yeah, but this world doesn't seem to have Doomed, either," Danny says as they start another race.  "There's a lot of little differences like that."

"That's gotta be weird," Kon says.  

"Yeah, Clark kind of freaked out when I told him the sun there was red."

Yeah, Kon can see why.  They talk more as they play more video games, and Danny tells Kon about his friends and what they'd do when they were hanging out in his hometown of Amity Park.  The main people he talks about are his best friends, Sam and Tucker, and his older sister, Jazz, but he mentions a few others.  

"Wait, who is Ellie again?" Kon asks, after Danny shares a story about a prank she pulled on another kid at Danny's school.  They've left the arcade, and are hanging out at the diner a few blocks away.  It's not the coolest place-- in fact, it looks like a grandmother decorated it-- but Clark introduced Kon to it, and it has great food.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Danny asks.  "She's my clone."

Kon chokes a little on his soda.  "You have a clone?"

-----

Danny is probably being paranoid.

Scratch that, he's definitely being paranoid. Lois and Clark have been nothing but nice, and they're clearly used to weird things happening. Like, even aside from the whole alien superhero thing, Lois just saw a kid fall out of a portal and decided to help?  Plus, Clark is an actual superhero.  

Even his— the Fentons came around on the whole “ghost powers” thing.  Eventually.  But he’s gotten used to hiding, to trying to blend in.  

(And what had them accepting him done for them in the end?  They’re dead, the GIW killed them.)

He’d rather hide than suddenly discover that Lois and Clark aren’t cool with their long-lost son being half dead.

Some of his powers he can pass off as Kryptonian— super strength, flight, enhanced senses.  He knows Lois saw his ghost form, and though she hasn’t asked about it, he’s pretty sure it’s just a matter of time.  

These thoughts circle through his mind over and over, only leaving him temporarily when he’s hanging out with the Lane-Kents.  

His bio family.  

That’s not much better, though; there’s a sadness in Lois and Clark’s eyes whenever they look at him, although they try to hide it.  Jon just a kid, and clearly doesn’t know what to make of the whole situation.  Lois keeps saying they are going to introduce him to more people, especially people his own age, but Danny shies away from that.  He doesn’t want to meet more people.  He doesn’t want to get comfortable here.

Still, he’s glad he came out with Kon.  An afternoon of videogames and greasy food hasn’t solved any of his problems, but it’s a nice break, and Kon has already promised to introduce Danny to his friends— a whole team of teenage superheroes.

“I can’t get over how many heroes there are here,” Danny says.  “Like, why do you even need that many?”  Sure, it would have been nice to have some more backup when he was Phantom, but in this world there seems to be at least one superhero for every major city, plus some extra.

Kon shrugs. “Natural disasters, alien invasions, supervillains, street crime… No one can handle all of it.”

Out of all the things he’s encountered so far in this dimension, this might be Danny’s favorite.  Even more than the proven existence of aliens.  Back home, Amity Park needed Phantom, even if they hated him.  But the world here doesn’t need Phantom.  

It’s kind of freeing, and Danny hates it.  He doesn’t want to like anything about this dimension more than his own.  

Would it really be that bad?  You might be stuck here forever, a little voice inside his head whispers.  

He ignores it.

[thelibrarian1895]

Gotham Rich People

So there are other millionaires and billionaires in Gotham besides Bruce Wayne.

I'll wait for you to get over the shock.

You good? Ok

There are other stupidly rich people in Gotham. A thought that if you've really made it in stupidly rich society in the dc verse then you have to have some property in Gotham where you stay for like a month or so every year like it's the regency society season. It's a sign that you're so ridiculously rich that it doesn't matter if someone steals your priceless painting or holds you for ransom because you can afford it and still be ridiculously rich. You are rich enough that your bodyguards are so skilled that they can keep you safe in Gotham. Because people are stupid and people who are rich and want to be snobs about it and show off tend to be a little more so than not.

Ridiculously rich seasonal Gothamites will also absolutely think that being kidnapped and held for ransom by one crime family or another or a rogue shows a different level of quality and status. Because they are just that bored and just that rich. And it lets them deal with the ✨trauma✨ ala gallows humor.

Lex Luthor has a bunch of snobby rich people look down their noses at him because he doesn't have Gotham property (Bruce keeps outbidding him when he tries and then Tim does the same when Bruce is busy because neither want Luthor in their city though sometimes people just won't sell if they find out it's Luthor trying to buy the property because they don't want him in the city either) and while he's rich enough to make mechs to go after Superman he can't afford quality Gotham caliber bodyguards.

Oliver Queen might have had a tiny by rich people standards apartment in Gotham, he inherited it. It may have been destroyed during the quake. He doesn't bother to rebuild or buy a new one and just stays in fancy hotel if he has to be in Gotham for any length of time and grumbles that Bruce won't let him crash at his place.

Tim gets Drake Manor back, if he didn't have it already, and puts it in his and Kon's name so Kon can be smug at Luthor because Kon has property in Gotham. Tim might come up with another secret identity as Connor Luthor's Gotham bodyguard just for fun. Superman may be Luthor's villain nemesis, Tim is determined to make himself Luthor's social and business nemesis because Tim apparently doesn't have enough people who want his head on a pike. Also fewer people give Tim well meaning lectures against villainy when Tim makes trouble for Luthor than when he's made trouble for Clark after Clark has said or done something dumb to Kon. Plus having a business nemesis makes being primary shareholder in Wayne Enterprises less mind numbing for Tim.

These other stupidly rich people also end up getting fleeced for millions by the Waynes for the Wayne charities because if they're going to have all these extra idiots to keep an eye on then these extra idiots are going to pay for things like the road work that the city isn't paying for because the city budget was embezzled by some jerk who ran off with the money to some other hole in the ground.

If Jason is bored enough he will be one of those rogues who kidnaps one of the Gotham elite visiting for their maintain the status month and the ransom money goes directly to literacy and educational programs. This way his preferred causes are funded and he doesn't have to be stuck in a suit at a horribly boring gala where he has to be polite. He is also considered the top tier platinum star in rogues to be kidnapped by since he is professional, has kidnapped Waynes before (Damian convinced him to do it so Damian could get out of a series of civilian parties and go hang out with Jon instead and a few times Cass has gotten Jason to "kidnap" her so she doesn't have to deal with a gala either) and is known for returning people when the ransom is paid. He has, on occasion, returned people after the ransom demands were made and denied and it is later discovered that he took the ransom anyway and the person who denied to pay the ransom finds themselves in serious physical and legal trouble. Seasonal Gotham rich people will absolutely brag about having been kidnapped by the Red Hood who clearly has good taste in hostages.

[thestargayzingheroine]

Why A Better World is my favourite "Evil Superman" Story

So in the last two decades or so, there's been a notable amount of dark and edgy stories around superheroes turning evil and whatnot and most of them really love to do their own expies of Superman. I've never been the biggest fans of these kinds of stories.

And then there's the actual stories of Superman and other heroes being outright villains or at least just massive assholes. In recent years, this has been largely thanks to the influence of media like the Injustice Games or the Synderverse DC movies. It's... honestly become a trope I am tired of.

Because you know the damnest thing? There is a story that does all these ideas really damn well and arguably better. It is the two-parter from the Justice League cartoon "A Better World".

Now, I am aware how most people favouring the DCAU has become a bit of toxic nostalgia at times and it's something I myself am trying to work through a bit. But in this case, I do think it's the best idea of doing an evil DC story, much better and more interesting than the Crime Syndicate, who if you ask me are not very interesting, though I do remember liking the Crisis On Two Earths movie a lot, which funny enough, was originally going to be this two parter before various things led to it being canned and then later repurposed as a direct to DVD movie.

Anyway, my main crux of why I love this story is simple... The entire Justice League turns evil... and the reasons are very much in-character for all of them. You look at the scene with Justice Lord Batman for example.

As fucking evil as the Justice Lords are... Batman can't quite fully hate his alternate self for his reason for taking part in all this being basically one-step further than his own mission, that no child should ever go through what he did. Hell, I recall reading that the reason the writers had Batman drop his batarang at the end of this scene... was because he genuinely wouldn't be able to come up with an argument to that.

Superman likewise kills Lex Luthor because yeah, Luthor literally exploited the flaws in Democracy and became president of the US, threatening to kinda basically start world war 3. It's obviously horrible... but Superman is a character whose main motivation is making the world a better place. And if people who abuse the systems of power of the world are hurting people, why shouldn't Superman put a stop to that?

And yeah, Superman should obviously never kill, he's the most paragon of paragons of the DC universe, a man committed to always being better than the villains he fights... but this is him pushed to his most logical extreme. Hell, the main Superman knows this and its why Lex used his knowledge of this alternate universe as part of his plan in the season after this, to goad our Superman into crossing the line because yeah, there's a part of him that could go this far.

But right as Superman is about to apparently finish him, the big guy says this.

"I'm not the man who killed President Luthor. I wish to heaven that I were but I'm not."

Because Superman like everyone else, obviously would have those same thoughts and same urges. He's human.

I've kinda gone off Injustice a bit because to be honest... the injustice games were kinda just this but a bit too edgelordy. Hell, in A Better World, Lois Lane still lives and the whole genesis of it doesn't revolve around her getting fridged.

So yeah, A Better World is probably one of my favourite mirror universe stories because of the fact that well... it really is like looking in a mirror and seeing just how easy the greatest heroes can become evil and how they wouldn't be massively out of character doing so. But also it reminds us that as much as this darkness can tempt some of our finest, the ones who don't go down this dark path are stronger in heart than anyone else. Because when the world becomes a dark and horrible place, it becomes very easy to be just as dark. But even though it can be hard to still try and be a good person even in dark times, it's ultimately worth it. Because good always triumphs over evil.

[lynzishell]

The Past 🩵 Asher

Once we’re seated and buckled, Lex turns to me to begin her interrogation before I even have a chance to pull out of the parking garage. “Okay, so, first things first, did you sleep with him?”

I glance over at her, surprised by her question. I figured that was implied considering we left the club together last night and I didn’t come home until this afternoon, but good for her for not making assumptions, I guess. “Yeah, I did,” I say, fighting a losing battle with the smile spreading across my face. 

She smacks me in the arm and gasps, “Really? How was it?”

This really isn’t the part of the night that I need to talk through, but I allow myself a moment to think about it anyway. I prop my arm up on the door so I can rest my head against my hand. My hair feels clean and soft, and still smells faintly of his shampoo, sparking a memory of running my hands over his body in the shower. The image makes my stomach flutter, and my voice comes out a little dreamy when I speak, “It was amazing.”

“Amazing? Well, I’m going to have follow-up questions.”

“And I won’t be answering any of those questions.”

“Ugh, fine,” she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, “So, then what happened? How did things go from ‘amazing’ to you sobbing into my shoulder and getting snot all over my jacket?”

“I don’t know. Like, the whole night was great. It was fun, and he was so sweet, and it really felt like… It wasn't just a hook up, it was more than that. Or at least I thought so. Maybe I was just projecting or seeing what I wanted to see because I… fuck, I’m so embarrassed… whatever, I kinda put myself out there today, really thinking he’d reciprocate, but—”

“He didn’t?”

“No.”

“What did he say?”

“Same thing he always says. He doesn’t want to date me because we work together. He just wants to be friends. I don’t know, maybe I’m the asshole. How many times does he have to tell me he just wants to be friends? And I’m over here like, ‘are you sure? how ‘bout now?’ What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop.”

“Babe, c’mon, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. I know you. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t really believe he felt the same way. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you’re not imagining it. Sounds to me like he’s saying one thing but acting another and he’s fucking with your head and that’s not okay. If he truly wants to be your friend, then he needs to act like a friend, and he’s not. If you ask me, he’s the asshole, and you deserve a hell of a lot better.”

“I hear you; I do. He’s not an asshole, though. He’s really not. I think maybe it’s more complicated than that. Like, he was so kind, and affectionate… I really felt like he cared. And then today, he just looked so sad when I was leaving. You know how he does sometimes. But I’ve never seen him more down than he looked today, and my heart just, I don’t know, I just want to take that sadness away. I feel like I could make him happy if he’d let me.”

“Careful, Ash. Don’t do that. Don’t fall into that trap of thinking you can rescue him or fix him or something. That’s some toxic co-dependent shit. Pretty sure you get enough of that with your sister.”

“Ow.” Leave it to Lex to stab you in the heart with her honesty. I respect it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“Did you or did you not drop everything to rush out to the Bay to help her the second she asked?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are your parents home?”

“Yes.”

“So, in theory, they could help her with her baby furniture or whatever today?”

I let her words sink in. I’ve gotten better at setting boundaries with Iris, but apparently, I still have some work to do. It didn’t even feel like an option to say no to her today, but now that seems ridiculous. Now, I wish I hadn’t rushed out on Atlas. Maybe we could’ve had a nice day together. Maybe I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself if I wasn’t so frazzled and trying to make everyone happy all at once. Damn. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I’m doing that with Atlas though. Like, sure, I want to make him happy when he’s sad, and maybe I overestimate my ability to do so, but I’ve never felt a need to ‘save’ him or whatever. It’s not like that. I just… I like him so much, Lex. I really do. I love spending time with him. And I love the way he makes me feel when we’re together. I could’ve sworn he felt the same way. I mean, just the way he…” my voice trails off as I remember all the ways he looked at me and smiled at me and kissed me and touched me, and then his words “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”, and the tenderness in his voice and in his eyes when he said it. The sweet way he kissed my forehead in the bathroom. The way he held me as we slept.

“The way he what? Hello? Where did you go?”

“You know what? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not. I know he feels it too. So, maybe he really is just super weird about dating people he works with. I mean, on paper it seems logical, right? To not mix your professional life with your romantic one?”

“I don’t know. I guess? What are you getting at?”

“Well, it’s an easy enough obstacle to remove, don’t you think?”

“You’re gonna quit your job over a guy you’ve only known a few months?”

“Why not? It’s better than giving up on a great guy over some job I've only had a few months. I’m not just gonna quit though, don’t worry. I’ll get something else lined up first. But I have a decent portfolio. I don’t think it’ll be that hard.”

“Okay. Well, what if it doesn’t work? What if he’s full of shit, making excuses? What if you leave for him and he still just wants to be friends.”

“Honestly, at this point, if there’s any chance of me being his friend, I think I’ll need some distance for a while to get over him. And also, if I call his bluff and tell him I’m going to quit, and he still doesn’t want to be with me, then hopefully he’ll at least have the decency to tell me the real reason why. Otherwise, maybe I shouldn’t even try being his friend. Maybe, in that case, I’d have to face that he’s not who I thought he was and move on. But I won’t be able to do that unless I know for sure. So yeah, the more I think about it, this seems like the obvious solution regardless of the outcome.”

She pouts at me, clearly not happy, but she doesn’t have an argument against it, so she concedes, “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.” I reach over and hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Sorry about your jacket.”

She smiles at that, “It’s okay. Do you feel better at least?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Worth it then.”

Prev // Next

AN: Thank you so so much @madebycoffee for creating the perfect poses for this scene!!! This was my very first car scene and I was so nervous about it, but I love how it turned out and I couldn't have done it without you!! 🥹🩵🧡

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller 90s AU: Lily's Rental

This came to me in a dream. I don't know how much of it I'm going to write, but I love the late 90s as a setting and couldn't resist.

Masterlist

tw: hypnosis, kidnapping

September 12, 1998

Lisa shook her can of Mountain Dew, dismayed that there didn't seem to be any more in it. She'd had three sodas tonight and was still struggling to stay awake.

She was working the late shift at the video store again, and she was really more bored than she was tired, the endless preview reel playing on the TV above her head doing little to hold her attention. She'd grown tired of the book she brought with her, she'd already restocked the candy and cleaned out the returns, and as she lived in a city that very much slept, there weren't a lot of customers so late on a weeknight.

Maybe no one would notice if she rested her head on the counter for just a few minutes and…

The sound of the door sliding open had her jerking back awake. "Welcome to Blockbuster, can I help you find anything?" she said on instinct.

"Well, you're a helpful one!" said the customer in an annoyingly cloying voice. "But we're just looking to browse the movies. Don't mind us."

She was wearing a floral sundress and tights, and looked a little too put-together for someone looking to rent a video at 11:40pm on a Tuesday. Trailing behind her was a man with a purple flannel shirt, a long blonde ponytail, and sunglasses perched on his head for some reason.

Far from the strangest people she saw in this job, of course.

"I'm feeling something with a lot of action," said the man as he walked deeper into the store. "What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking of -- ooh, no one told me Titanic was out on video!" The woman had stopped in front of the cardboard Titanic standee, apparently having lived under a rock until today.

"Did you somehow miss the nonstop ads on TV?" said the man, echoing Lisa's thoughts.

"I don't have time to watch that much TV. Some of us work for a living, you know," she said. "We have to rent this."

"Isn't it supposed to be four hours long? You know my attention span sucks."

"It'll be fine. I'll let you know when the interesting parts are happening."

Normally Lisa would mind her own business and not be especially interested in the usual chitchat of customers picking out movies, but right now it was the only thing keeping her alert. She idly flipped through a catalog as they talked.

The man picked up one of the many rental copies of Titanic and flipped it in his hands, a dubious look on his face. "I guess. And Lex might like it, he loves tragedy. It's cute when he's trying not to cry."

"I don't know, does Lex watch movies with color? You might blow his mind."

"I'm pretty sure he's still getting used to talkies."

"Anyway, I'm definitely getting this," said the woman. "And I think there's something else I'd like to take with me…"

Her tone of voice was a little strange. Lisa's brows furrowed in confusion as she pretended to be interested in winter fashion.

"Oh, right," the man said. "Brian wanted some video game. Ah, shit, what was it? I should've written it down. Final something."

"That's not what I'm talking about. Come on, Fitz, I want to show you something."

The two disappeared behind the rack of horror movies, their voices too low for Lisa to hear what they were saying. She was starting to get uneasy now. They were probably planning to shoplift, which was not at all the kind of excitement she was hoping for. Lisa ran her hand over the panic button on the underside of the counter, just in case.

The two split up and seemed to be browsing the movies. Lisa was keeping her eye on the man -- Fitz, what a goofy name -- who was over by the video game rentals, watching if he tried to slip one under his shirt. At the moment, he was staring at the video games as though they were some puzzle he needed to solve. This guy really didn't seem clever enough to get past our security, so maybe he was a distraction while --

"Hello, I had a question!" said the woman cheerfully. She had walked up to the front desk without Lisa even noticing, because she was too focused on the other customer.

It was probably part of their scheme -- the woman would distract the clerk, while the man stole video games. Lisa made a point of keeping her eye on Fitz while talking to her. "Sure, what do you need?"

"I was wondering if you have any good movies to help me sleep at night. Something calm… relaxing…" She yawned, and Lisa had to fight not to yawn along with her. "I have a hard time sleeping, and I take medicine that makes me so drowsy, so I could really use videos that will help me sleep."

"Um…" Lisa blinked slowly, feeling like her head was stuffed full of cotton. "We have some, um… some nature videos. Over there in the nature video section. Those are relaxing." God, she was way too fucking tired for this. She couldn't even think straight.

"Nature videos do sound relaxing. So, so relaxing." The woman's voice was very soothing, and her eyes were soothing too. "I think I might be able to fall asleep to a video of rain or waterfalls. Do you have anything else that would help me sleep? I get so tired this late at night."

Lisa yawned wide, and as oxygen hit her brain, she realized that she was being super unprofessional (not that she would get in trouble or anything) and that she had completely lost track of Fitz. Instead, she was gazing into this stranger's eyes, like that was a normal thing to do. "Well… uh…" she said, trying to tear herself away. "I think we probably have… like, lullaby videos for babies? In the kid videos. And we probably have some meditation videos over in the self-help section."

"Lullabies sound perfect," said the woman, a comforting smile on her face that made Lisa feel warm inside. "Lullabies are perfect when it's time for you to go to sleep. Don't you think so, Fitz?"

"I think you're right, Lily."

Lisa's hand was grasped by hands that were cold but incredibly soft. She realized that Fitz had also come up to the front desk, and was holding her hand for some bizarre reason. Before her sluggish thoughts could catch up to her and she could try to pull away, he began to rub a slow circle into her palm, and Lisa…

…just couldn't…

"There we go, sweet girl. You're so tired, aren't you? Tired and sleepy," said the woman. Lily.

"Mmm, she looks so drowsy. Like she could nod off at any second," Fitz agreed, as he stroked the palm of her hand so gently, a motion that seemed to steal away her focus and muddle her thoughts.

"Drowsy and docile. You'll be drowsy and docile for me, won't you?"

Fitz used his other hand to run his fingers down her jaw and tip her chin into his gaze. "You heard her. Drowsy and docile. Isn't that right?"

Lisa felt herself nod slowly. "Drowsy… and docile…" she said, her voice sounding like it was coming from a million miles away.

This wasn't right. There were alarms going off in the back of her mind, warning her of the danger. They were going to rob her. She was going to be in so much trouble. Why was she acting like this? Why couldn't she wake herself up?

"Shhh, shhh, just relax, dear," said Lily. "Everything's just fine. You're tired, aren't you? You just want to sleep."

"Go to sleep." Fitz's fingers traced down her neck. "Just go to sleep."

"I… I don't…" Lisa's vision was blurring, the buzzing fluorescent lights slipping in and out of her mind as her eyes began to close.

"It's okay, dear. Just have a little nap. You're safe with us. You can sleep."

"You look so, so tired. You want to shut those eyelids, don't you?"

"You do. You want to shut those heavy eyelids and go to sleep. It's time to sleep, dear. Sleep…"

Lisa, making a last ditch effort to resist whatever was happening here, pulled open her leaden eyelids. The new releases shelf was at an angle -- no, her head was tipped over, almost sinking onto the counter. Why couldn't she snap out of it, stay awake? It all felt like a dream -- not even the strangest dream she'd had about the shop.

"Poor sleepy girl," Lily whispered in her ear. "You're going to fall asleep now, all right? No more resisting, no more fighting, just a comfortable deep sleep."

The drowsiness was pouring into her from her hand and face where Fitz was touching her, like she was being drugged. Her thoughts strayed briefly to the panic button under the counter before her eyes shut and she slumped over completely. She just couldn't seem to stop herself from falling asleep…

"I've got her." Hands wrapped around Lisa's waist, and Fitz's voice was much closer now. "I can see why you wanted to take her. She smells delicious."

"I know good merchandise when I see it," said Lily.

Delicious? Merchandise? Lisa tried to stir.

"Shh, don't worry about it," said Lily, brushing hair out of Lisa's face. "Sleep tight. Pleasant dreams."

Lisa could feel herself being lifted in the air and carried, but she was too much asleep to protest or do anything about it.

"So I'm guessing we're taking her to the auction house, then?" said Fitz. "D'you think the Blockbuster's going to charge us a late fee if we don't return her?"

"Very funny, and yes, let's take her to the auction house. We can run a background check to make sure we haven't picked up anything too dangerous. I'm thinking she's going to fetch a nice payday," said Lily. "Oh, is this the video game your thrall wanted?"

"Hell if I know, but it's probably close enough. Could you grab that for me? Thanks."

Cool night air hit Lisa's face, waking her up just slightly as she realized she must be outside. Someone needs to close up the shop, she thought in a bleary daze. She heard a car door open.

"Stay with her in the back and keep her asleep, okay?"

"You're better at keeping thralls asleep. Are you sure you don't want to do it?"

"No, because I'm also better at driving. It'll be easier to keep her calm if we don't have you slamming the brakes and pounding the horn --"

"Oh c'mon, I only do that to people who deserve it."

The next thing Lisa knew, she was laying down. Her legs were only halfway on the seat and her head was in someone's lap. A chilled hand stroked her forehead and combed through her hair, and Lisa couldn't help but sink into it, losing herself.

"…could just take her home, you know."

"…don't think she's…"

"…don't you think she'd be a good match for…"

"…but she'd be worth…"

The voices slowly faded away as Lisa slipped deeper into slumber.

Masterlist

Stay tuned tonight for your regularly scheduled Bookseller update.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole @slightlydisturbedbeans @paperprinxe @demetercabingreen-thumb

[trashpandato]

Breakaway

“Lena, this could really be good for the company. Think of the good publicity for L-Corp, sponsoring the biggest women’s cycling race in the world.”

“Sam,” Lena huffs and presses her fingers against the bridge of her nose, “L-Corp isn’t in the business of sponsoring sports events.”

“Yet.”

“We’ve never done anything even remotely similar. Don’t you think it would look a little…desperate? Not to mention suspicious given the timing?”

Sam shifts a little in her seat. “Lena, —”

“Lex’s trial concluded less than six months ago. Any effort to get good press at this point is going to be suspicious. Especially something as blatantly outside of the scope of L-Corp’s usual activities as showing up at some bicycle event. This could actually do more harm than good.”

“You said yourself that you’re trying to move the company in a different direction. You could easily position this as giving back to the community, supporting causes that are, by design, the opposite of what LuthorCorp stood for.”

And Lena can’t really argue with that. She does want to do things differently, from re-naming the company to ending contracts with military suppliers to focussing primarily on research and development projects that would benefit previously underserved communities. But this is a step, or ten, outside of her comfort zone. She doesn’t want to be in the public eye more than she has to be, and she most definitely doesn’t want to be seen as taking advantage of a women’s sports event to bolster her company’s reputation.

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t have to decide right now. Just, think about it. You’re sponsoring girls in STEM events all the time, and this could be along the same lines of supporting women in areas that are traditionally dominated by men.”

Lena sighs. As always, Sam makes a good point, and as always, she is exceptionally pushy about it.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Later that evening, after Lena has sent off the last few emails dealing with a contract issue with a new subsidiary company in Japan, she clicks out of her email application and pulls up her search engine. If she is supposed to think about sponsoring a cycling event, she wants to know exactly what she would be getting herself into.

Three scotches and a considerable amount of time later, Lena has learned that women’s cycling is woefully underfunded, under promoted and clearly suffers from blatant misogyny of those in charge. She listens to multiple interviews of riders complaining that their races are intentionally shorter than the men’s races because the sport’s regulating body apparently thinks women can’t handle the extra distance. Other than that, the sport seems entertaining enough, and from what Lena can tell, most races are currently dominated by select riders from two or three teams, a fact that speaks to uneven support for equipment and development of new talent across the sport.

While an interview with a sweaty and strikingly good looking blonde cyclist is playing in the background, Lena rubs her eyes and fires off a quick text to Sam.

LL: I’ve thought about it. Go ahead and set up the sponsorship for that race.

—

On race day, Lena regrets every decision she has ever made that has led her to this point. She gets up extra early that day to deal with a number of important issues at L-Corp, but the morning quickly gets away from her. At noon, she is already so behind schedule that she is tempted to text Sam to cancel her appearance at the race. It’s only the knowledge that her friend would never let her hear the end of it that keeps Lena from hiding in her office for the rest of the day. She leaves L-Corp with barely a minute to spare, knowing full well that she is going to have to work late that evening to make up for the time she is going to spend showing her face at the race.

By the time Lena gets there, the medal presentation is just about to start. A race volunteer quickly leads her to the side of the stage, just out of view of the crowds, where Lena spots Sam.

“There you are,” Sam says, handing her a bottle of water to combat the truly ludicrous heat that has built up under the temporary structure surrounding the stage and podium. “I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t show.”

“I told you I’d be here for this.”

“Yes, but you missed out on seeing the race action.”

“I'm a busy CEO of a multi-billion dollar international company. I don't have time to watch women in lycra pedal around the city for hours."

“Oh, but you did notice the lycra?”

“Sam,” Lena hisses as her attention drifts toward the woman stepping on the podium to accept the congratulations for the win. She grimaces when she sees Maxwell Lord and Morgan Edge hover near the cyclist, Edge shuffling closer and closer to the woman, sporting his usual sleazy smirk. He must say something offensive—not a big surprise, Lena thinks—because the woman accepting her medal suddenly stiffens and grimaces, clearly trying to remain polite and smile for the cameras while her body language conveys that she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Lena takes a few swift steps toward them.

“Edge. I see you’ve learned nothing from your recent sexual harassment lawsuit. Do you want me to call your probation officer now or later?”

“Lena,” Edge sneers but he steps away from the woman nonetheless. “What a surprise. I didn’t think this event would want to associate themselves with family members of domestic terrorists. Then again, cycling doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for being a clean sport, so I suppose it fits.”

Lena crosses her arms across her chest and raises a challenging eyebrow. “You realize there are mics everywhere, yes? And that you just insulted the sport you’re supposedly here to champion, and everyone could hear it?”

She watches as a couple of official looking men in suits approach and whisper something into Morgan Edge’s ear. With a huff, he turns and retreats behind the stage to the soundtrack of shocked murmurs from the audience gathered in front of the podium.

Lena almost forgets why she is here when she hears an amused voice next to her ear.

“Thanks for that. Not entirely necessary, but I appreciate it.”

Lena’s head snaps toward the voice and all of a sudden she is looking into the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. The woman, Kara Danvers according to the information the race officials had handed her when she arrived for the medal presentation, looks flushed and a little disheveled, but is smiling brightly at Lena.

“Not necessary? He was practically grabbing your butt.”

Kara shrugs. “Not the first time that’s happened during a podium presentation, and won’t be the last. It’s part of the job, unfortunately.”

“It’s part of your job to be groped by men like Edge?”

Another shrug. “At least I usually also get kisses from the podium girls, so it evens out?”

Lena frowns. “What?”

But before she can get more information, one of the race officials hands her a bouquet of flowers and motions for her to hand it to today’s race winner, congratulate her and move on. Lena obliges. She steps in front of the podium, shakes Kara’s hand and ignores the way her stomach swoops when Kara thanks her and winks, fucking winks. Who does that? 

Lena briskly walks off the stage on the other side, where Sam is already waiting for her.

“You can never do things at a normal level of intensity, can you?”

“I told you I’ve never done anything like this before, so maybe don’t blame me for not knowing the proper etiquette here,” Lena snaps. “You could have warned me that Edge and his greasy buddy Lord would be here.”

“Relax,” Sam chuckles. “You did great. I thought we’d maybe get some decent headlines about L-Corp sponsoring the race, but now the media is going to have a field day with you taking on Morgan Edge in public and defending the reputation of women’s cycling.”

“I did no such thing. He spewed his vile nonsense all by himself.”

“He did, and you took him down a notch in front of one the sport’s biggest names. Who seemed pretty taken with you, by the way.”

“Right,” Lena scoffs. The heat behind the stage is unbearable and she can feel sweat trickling down her lower back, her shirt sticking to her skin uncomfortably under her suit jacket. “Are we done here? I need to get back to work.”

Sam looks like she’s about to say something, maybe to try and convince Lena to stay, but Lena is already five steps ahead of her, finding the most direct path to where her driver is waiting for her with her car. And maybe she’s walking faster than strictly necessary, desperate to get away from the cacophony of noises, people and media equipment surrounding the area, and maybe she should have paid closer attention to her surroundings because when she’s not even halfway to her car, she suddenly collides with a solid body. The force of it bumps her sideways and Lena half expects to fall, but then two warm hands hold her upright.

“Golly, I’m so sorry,” Lena hears and when she looks up, it’s the woman from the podium again. 

Kara Danvers.

She’s still holding Lena up, and they’re standing close, so close that Lena can see faint salt lines on her skin from where her sweat had dried off after the efforts of the race.

Lena blinks, too stunned to say anything for a moment.

“Are you okay? I totally didn’t see you and I barrelled right into you. I’m really sorry.”

Lena clears her throat. “It’s fine. I should be the one apologizing. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You definitely looked like you’re in a hurry to get away,” Kara says, her voice teasing and light.

“I mean, I do have to get back to the office.”

“Of course. Time is money, and all that. Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy day for this, Ms Luthor.”

Lena is used to people commenting on her wealth and her business, and not always in friendly terms. She wears her professional demeanor and her last name like a shield; one that attracts a lot of unwanted attention, but a shield nonetheless. She doesn’t quite know why, but something about the woman in front of her makes her want things to be different.

“Please, just call me Lena.”

Lena can see the flash of surprise on the other woman’s face, but it is quickly replaced by another easy smile.

“Okay, Lena. I’m Kara.”

Lena nods. “Well, Kara, I should get going. Congratulations again on your win. Maybe I’ll see you around at some other races.”

“If you’re going to do the podium honors again, that’ll be more motivation for me to ride extra fast.”

Kara says this last bit with a laugh in her voice that makes Lena blush a little.

“Alright. You do that, but I really have to get back to work now. Bye, Kara.”

—

When Sam enters Lena’s office for a budget meeting a few days later, she finds Lena focused intensely on something on her laptop.

“Did you know that these so-called podium girls are almost all university graduates?”

Sam chuckles. “Are you looking for a side-gig?”

“What? No! I just mean, look at this woman, for example.” Lena turns her laptop toward Sam, the screen highlighting one of the blonde women usually tasked with handing over some stuffed animal to the race winner and giving them a kiss on the cheek. “This is Eve Tessmacher. She has two advanced degrees in biomedical science. She could easily work at L-Corp. Hell, she could probably even lead an entire department here, given her qualifications.”

“And?”

“And?! She spends her time following around the race circuit, smiling for the cameras in a dress that’s entirely too short to comfortably walk up the rickety stairs of those podium stages.”

Sam sits down opposite Lena at her desk and sighs.

“I see you put on your judgy pants this morning. What if they made a conscious decision to work at a women’s sports event? What if representing the race organization is important to them? And who knows, maybe traveling around the country and being a part of this is fun?”

“Fun?” Lena pulls up a few videos and turns the laptop back to Sam. “Does this look like fun to you?”

Together they watch a compilation of footage from various podium presentations. The common theme is the presence of handsy middle-aged men who seem to have made it their mission to make any woman involved with the race event uncomfortable, and the “podium girls” seem to be taking the brunt of it. 

Sam winces as she watches one of the women trying to maneuver her body out of the grasp of a particularly persistent man.

“Okay, fine. That looks…unpleasant. But I assume their presence is part of tradition.”

“Mmh. Maybe it’s time to end this particular tradition.”

That gets Sam’s attention.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that? I thought you wanted nothing to do with sports?”

“You did tell me to sponsor this race. And right now, L-Corp is only one of many corporate partners, but we could easily become the headline sponsor for this race series, and then we could encourage some changes. Not to the racing itself, of course. But those ceremonial parts could do with less of the misogynistic bullshit.”

“Does this sudden interest in who gets to kiss the race winner have anything to do with a certain blonde cyclist?”

“What? No. You…why would you even say that?”

“Because I have eyes and I saw how she looked at you when you played the hero and saved her from Morgan Edge.”

“You’re delusional. I don’t, it’s not about that. It’s about making sure these women get highlighted for their actual talents, not just to be eye candy for men with a bottomless Viagra prescription.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “I see what you’re doing. But if you want to explore what it would take for L-Corp to become the main sponsor, leave it with me.”

It takes a few weeks of meetings and contract negotiations, but in the end, Lena gets exactly what she wants. The L-Corp logo is prominently displayed on banners, posters and race leader jerseys. The media has run a few mostly positive stories about Lena’s newfound interest in women’s cycling, complete with a few soundbites from prominent cyclists who seem pleased with seeing some extra funding and attention for their sport.

During a break in the race calendar, Lena asks her assistant to set up a few meetings with the women working for the race organization. With Sam’s words about being too judgy still echoing in her mind, she wants to get a feel for how much of their job is simply about carrying over traditions from the men’s races and how much wiggle room there is for making changes.

In the first three meetings, the women Lena speaks with are polite and careful. Lena doesn’t get much of an answer to her questions, but she does get the distinct impression that the women would welcome a different approach to some of their duties but are too afraid to rock the boat. It’s only when she meets with Eve Tessmacher that she gets a pretty blunt assessment of the current state of affairs.

“So, Miss Tessmacher, what would you say you enjoy most about your role?”

“Oh, you know, we do get to travel around a lot and it’s nice to see different parts of the country. The quirky small towns are the best, usually, even if the accommodations can be challenging there.”

Lena nods. “And if you could change anything about your tasks with the race, what would that be?”

Eve cocks her head to the side a little and hesitates. Lena can sense that all she needs is one more firm nudge.

“I want you to be honest with me, Miss Tessmacher. If there is anything I can do to change your work environment for the better, I will do that. This is important to me. And I promise I won’t tell anyone what you share here.”

Eve blinks a few times but then nods.

“Truthfully, we would all like to see more respect. I mean, you saw what happened when Morgan Edge was at the medal presentation last month. That’s a constant occurrence. I understand that we need to invite local dignitaries when we pretty much hijack their town for a few days. It’s photo op stuff for them, we all get that. But that could be done in a much more respectful way.”

Lena nods and motions for Eve to continue.

“The outfits are a little much. I always feel like a flight attendant from the 1960s. It would be nice to have some leeway there.”

Lena nods again and jots down a few thoughts on a notepad.

“What’s your long-term goal?” she asks. “Career-wise, where do you want to be in five years?”

At that, Eve lets out a small giggle.

“Is this a job interview?”

Lena looks up from her notepad and raises an eyebrow. “Well, I do know that you have the education to work in R&D here at L-Corp, so if you want this to be an interview, I can make that happen.”

There’s a shocked expression on Eve’s face that is enough to make Lena backtrack slightly.

“Or we can set up an interview for you another time. To give you more time to prepare.”

“Really?” Eve asks, her voice pitched higher than before.

“Absolutely. When you leave here, talk to my assistant, Jess, to set something up.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Luthor. I have to admit, this is not what I was expecting when you called me in for a meeting today.”

“I’m trying to change things for the better, Miss Tessmacher. Both here at L-Corp and at the races, though my influence is a bit more limited there. But I do see that the women representing the race organization are generally overqualified for the task and I’d be more than happy to facilitate a move to other opportunities for those who want that.”

Eve nods but lets Lena continue: “I also want to change things for those who want to stay with the race. Make it more comfortable. No more handsy old men. Better pay. A safer work environment. I really appreciate your candor. You’ve given me exactly what I need to get started.”

From there, Lena gets to work. Her legal department helps draft language that makes it clear to anyone who is part of the podium celebrations that any inappropriate behaviour will result in immediate legal action. She re-assigns two of the podium girls to observe and enforce the new rules if necessary. Several others, including Eve Tessmacher, line up interviews for part-time positions at L-Corp that still allow them to participate in race events if they so choose, and she removes most of the existing stipulations around work attire. Finally, Lena highlights that in order to set clear boundaries, no one should be touching or kissing the winning racers beyond a congratulatory handshake.

It takes a few weeks for all the changes to be implemented, but the impact is immediate. The race series makes waves not just in the sports media, but bigger outlets start featuring the changes and run headlines like “L-Corp race series moves away from outdated traditions” and “Is women’s cycling finally stepping out of the shadows of men’s racing?”

Lena thinks the coverage is a little overblown but it’s still nice to see articles about L-Corp that don’t even reference her brother at all.

Over dinner one evening with Sam, she takes a sip of her wine and sighs.

“You know I don’t admit this very often, but you were right.”

“About?” Sam probes with a smirk on her face.

“You know what I’m talking about. The race sponsorship. The media coverage for L-Corp has been great, stocks are up, the board is pleased with it all. Thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“You’re welcome. But also, I really only said you should do a small sponsorship. You turned that into practically taking over the race series in order to impress Kara Danvers.”

“I did no such thing,” Lena huffs.

Sam simply smiles and clinks her glass against Lena’s. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night. But you really should ask her out at some point.”

Thankfully, their waiter interrupts the conversation then, and Sam sticks to talking about Ruby and their weekend plans for the rest of their dinner.

—-

It’s a few weeks later when Lena finds herself back on stage next to Kara Danvers, handing her another bouquet of flowers and a medal for sprinting to an impressive win at a race around National City’s harbourfront. It’s a bit of deja vu, but Lena is happy to see that the overall atmosphere on stage is that of respect and professionalism for all involved.

When she hovers near the edge of the stage after the ceremony is over, Kara walks over to her with determined steps.

“I hear that it’s you we have to thank for the much more relaxed vibes at the medal presentations now?”

“All I did was establish compliance with current labour laws. I don’t want L-Corp to get pulled into a lawsuit over one of these groping incidents.”

Kara nods. “Ah. Well, even if you only did it to protect your company, I appreciate it. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“I do miss getting a kiss on the cheek for winning, though.”

And maybe it’s the glass of champagne Lena had while she was waiting for the medal presentation to start, or maybe it’s the heat or a combination of both, but suddenly she has no control over the words that tumble out of her mouth.

“I can provide the kiss if you’re amenable to that.”

The laugh that bubbles out of Kara’s chest is loud and bright when she says: "You know, if you wanted to be the one to kiss me exclusively, you could have just asked me out on a date. No need to go to all that extra trouble of making changes to the races." 

Lena blushes. “Okay. This is me asking.”

There’s a moment where Kara only blinks, and it’s obvious to Lena that for all her teasing and bravado, she clearly didn’t expect Lena to play along. She’s about to backpedal when Kara stands up a little taller, smiles and holds out her hand.

“Then let’s go. Let me show you how many carbs I need to eat to fuel top performances. And if you’re into it, I might even show you my tan lines later.” And then she winks. Again. 

All Lena can do is laugh and loop her arm through Kara’s. “Alright. Show me.”

[moodymisty]

Hi i have a request yandere lorgar x f reader (9 ,47,45,42)

Reader decides to support lorgar more after seeing the mental state of him after the burning of monarchy,lorgar starts to become more and more obsessed with her to the extent of treating her like a goddess , he wants to always have her by his side he doesn't want to lose more things in his life.

( idea inspired by roroco316's recent drawing https://www.tumblr.com/roroco316/746301636466589696/the-annunciation-warning-very-hereical-yes-the?source=share )

Sorry for the bad English I'm using an online translator.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

 Author's Note: I love that art so much, so I hope this in a way provides a similar vibe?

Relationships: Lorgar/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Tokophobia, Pregnancy, Does it still count as breeding kink if you’re already pregnant and he gets off on that?, Possessive, Praise Kink, Overstimulation

"Lorgar?"

You cautiously walk into his study and gently call out, peeking your head into to see where he is.

A few moments later you notice him on the far side of the room, looking out one of the large windows at the darkness, spattered with only a few stars. He turns shortly after hearing your voice, and gives a small, pained but pleased smile.

"Ahh, my little goddess. What are you doing up?"

Having successfully tested his mood and found it safe you come in, the door closing behind you. Your more casual, plain nightclothes are at odds with his decorated study, even if it pales in comparison to the one he had on Monarchia.

But that's nothing but ash now. All of those tomes, scrolls, tapestries, memories, gone.

The Fidelitas Lex is now your permanent home, after everything.

"I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to come see you."

There's a myriad of reasons you could blame for your inability to sleep; The only just concluded razing of Monarchia and your sudden transplant onto the Word Bearers flagship, or your growing child; Which has constantly caused you to feel ill up until recently. You absentmindedly brush your hands over your still somewhat subtle belly at the thought.

“I thought maybe seeing you for a bit help.”

You keep shaking and your mind is still racing even days later; It’s preventing you from getting much rest at all. Lorgar softens at your comment and beckons you closer with a hand.

"Come here then, I'd love for nothing more than for you to sit with me for bit."

You walk closer and he moves to sit down on his large chair, lifting you into his arms and sitting you in his lap sideways. It lets you rest your back against his right arm, legs going across his lap.

Taking his left hand he gently brushes it over your shoulder before he rests it on your belly, silently thinking. During it all however, he consciously avoids your arms, and his brow furrows for a moment when he sees your sleeves have ridden up to expose more of your skin.

Your arms and hands still have burns on them from when the invading Ultramarines set the entire palace ablaze, intent to smoke out anyone inside.

They'll heal, its the mental wounds you're far more worried about. For Lorgar more than yourself.

Apparently Lorgar had been not unlike a raging beast when he realized you were still trapped inside, and only managed to calm himself when you'd return to him, Word Bearers at your side. They’d hauled themselves through flames to get you if not only to then plead for their primarch to retreat; as even their legion mother was not worth losing their primarch and everything he had built.

Lorgar speaks up; His voice is quiet, but you can hear it fine in your little bubble.

"To think I almost lost you... Both of you," Lorgar moves his hand from your stomach to cradle your jaw. "I don't know what I would've done. You are my guiding light."

His grip is firm, holding you close as if afraid you'll leave, or be nearly ripped from his arms again. You gently touch his arm.

"I was afraid I was never going to see you again."

Lorgar's face softens, looking down at you.

"Don't worry. I will never allow that to happen again." You grasp at his clothing and pull yourself upward, him leaning down to gently press his lips to your own. The angle is still awkward with his height, but you just manage it.

The look in his eyes is dark when he pulls away, staring down at you as you lay so small in his lap. His tone of voice seems to change as does is attitude; He’s been even more mercurial as of late, to at least given circumstances it isn’t entirely surprising.

“They were all jealous of me, you know that?”

You at first don’t know who he means by that, but his latter statement adds some clarity. “They were all jealous of the world I built, the things I wrote, created,” Lorgar removes his hand from your jaw with a gentle caress, before trailing downward.

“They were all so jealous I found you, someone so beautiful, who understood me,”

His hand rests on your thigh and grabs the fabric of your dress, pulling it upward. Thankfully any cuts and bruises there have healed, since Monarchia. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you shiver from the air against your once covered skin, and Lorgar puts his warm palm against your thigh.

“Perhaps if they weren’t so intent on killing one another, they would have found love.”

You sense a subtle jab at Guilliman, who had not only been one of the more vocal Primarchs against Lorgar having a lover so close and intertwined with his legion, but as well as having tried to kill all that he loved by razing Monarchia.

Lorgar's hand slips between your legs, spreading your thighs across his own as his right arm still cradles you close to him. His fingers brush over your outer lips and instinctively your knees try to close, but you can’t with his large hand in the way.

“You’re already so wet,” He mutters as if in a way teasing you. “I know I haven’t been accommodating to you, as of late.” Your bed has been quite cold without him, too busy commanding his legions movement after the Ultramarine’s devastation and his newfound disgust for the Emperor.

But he still had you, he had said; All to himself. The news of you being with child had still been fresh in his mind happening only days before Monarchia was up in flames. It only seemed to further his possessiveness of you.

"I have always thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world," Your hands grip his clothing deathly tight, trying to hold yourself steady. "But something about you and our child, you keep getting more beautiful by the day."

His index finger slowly sinks into you, curling upward as he fully sheathes it inside of you. The way you’re sitting sideways, you don’t have much options to move, and so you’re stuck writhing in his lap as he has his way with you.

"Lorgar..." He makes you feel good, you want more, but you can't help but feel as if something is off. Nothing you can speak of to him, as you lean into his arm and your heart hammers against your chest. Your thighs quiver and shake as he slips a second finger into you, stretching you just enough to get the friction you needed.

You've been so sensitive since getting pregnant, it's not long before he makes you cum on his fingers. You cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your noises despite the room being empty apart from the two of you.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, but doesn't completely remove his hand from between your thighs. Instead as you feel your muscles twitch from the aftershocks he presses his finger against your clit, causing your hips to jerk from the suddenly overwhelming sensation. Within moments you're whining even louder than you had been earlier, the sudden overstimulation nearly too much for you to handle.He gently rubs, slowly pressing and rolling with his fingers before he eventually decides to slip them back into you, but he doesn't get much farther beyond just barely pressing against your entrance.

A firm knock on the door startles you, but Lorgar almost seemed to have been prepared for it. Perhaps he heard them coming, long before the knock.

“...Primarch Lorgar? You’re needed on the bridge.”

Lorgar pulls his soaked hand from between your thighs, and wipes it off on his clothing as he turns to look over his shoulder at the still unopened door. His other arm still holds you closer to him.

But while he is irritated by the interruption, you know that Lorgar enjoys the suffering, in a way. You know once his duties are done he’ll find you again and finally satisfy himself, after he’s waited so long it aches.

“Very well. I will be there in a moment.” Lorgar gently ushers you to your feet, hands hovering as if doubtful you won't fall.

“I can walk still, Lorgar.” You joke at him, and he smiles back.

“I know, I only worry.” His hand drifts across your jawline, before he stands fully upright; You notice him softly adjust the fabric of his trousers.

“I will finish with whatever they have for me, and then I will return to you. Get some rest in the meantime, I urge you.” You nod, crossing your arms gently.

Lorgar’s eyes are soft, but there’s a darkness in them you catch.

“But do be ready for me by then.”