can you tell i like superheroes(excuse the mess. i'm trying)
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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ur gonna do so well, sweetpea <33 we'll be here when u return
GOD HOW DID I MISS THIS IM CRYING AND THROWING UP so hi!! i’m here and technically free for the long weekend (thank u labor day) and i’m gonna try and get some stuff done…no promises because i’m seeing loved ones for the first time since move in but i want to tell y’all i love and appreciate you!! to doing well and succeeding!! <3
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Can..can u make a shy assistant reader x jimmy olsen fanfic?
ml trust me whenever i get the time this is at the top of the list. need to write jimmy bringing reader coffee and reader flipping their shit (internally). i haven’t really ever written for a shy reader so i am HOPING i can do you and ur hilarious reaction pics justice!!
wishing u welllllll heheh
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hi kiki!!! from a writer to another, I'm absolutely in love with your works! i just had to send an ask, i just read all your current works and your style of writing is so captivating,
of all your current superman works (all of which i love by the way hehe) my favorite by far was the party girl series 🙏🙏 I FELT LIKE AN ACTUAL DAILY PLANET JOURNALIST LMAOAOA ts got me feeling things
AND ADDING TO THAT, THE EDITOR!READER WITH CLARK IS SO GOOD. i'm a copy editor and editors barely get rep sometimes LMAO, thank you for this!!
this was meant to be a very serious and solemn ask but i got carried away, i'm real excited about having a new writer whose works i look forward to hehe i hope you don't get intimidated
i'm a student who just moved into a completely different city too, so i felt a lot for your announcement post. we got this twin!! carry on!! staying passionate is totally punk rock 💓
OKAY HI LITERALLY SOBBING WAS JUST ABOUT TO MAKE AN UPDATE POST </3 you have NO idea how much this means omg. to be quick w it hi!!! i am alive!! i ADORE getting asks and you haven’t scared me off hehehe don’t even worry. i’m slowly making notes of requests so when i do have the time (and am not up to my literal armpits in welcome week shit) i can feed the ppl!!
i want you all to know i see every notif even now and it keeps me grounded and ily all for that.
and yeah, being passionate 100% fuckin punk rock :) (wishing you also all the luck. we got ts) my classes start tomorrow so yk shitting my pants slightly but. we persist!! i will not fail bc uni is crazy i will succeed because i am crazier!!
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"i love, i get scared, but that is being human, and that's my greatest strength." (superman masterlist is finally here!!)
"currents" EP (jimmy olsen x fem!reader) 1 & 2 & 3
"insomnia" track (clark kent x reader)
"die young" EP (jimmy olsen x reader) (in the works...) 1 & 2 & 3 & moodboard
"this is how tomorrow moves" EP (clark kent x reader) (in the works...)
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✩ tldr: i'm disappearing for a second because of school </3
hello if you're still reading !! slight small announcement :) firstly i wanna say hi and thank you to the followers i've gained and the love i've gotten on my works. i couldn't imagine even getting past 50 notes in general, so for my top one to have over 200 is insane to me.
for the important bit: i'm disappearing for a second :') i'm moving into a dorm for the first time and (un)fortunately i love people very deeply and i already know adjusting is going to be hell for me while i learn to live without people right outside when i need them. so my (hopefully brief) hiatus will only last through that and while i get used to being moved out, school workloads (honor student. yaaaaay), new social life, etc, etc.
(corniness under the cut)
i can’t lie to you guys, i'm horrified. i'm scared of change, and scared of new situations, and scared of so much it's (probably?) a sign to do something about it. but tumblr and writing and doing all this "cringy" stuff is me doing something about it. posting on this hellsite was a way for me to step outside my comfort zone and start getting used to being uncomfortable, but i was met with joy and compliments and now all i wanna do is post more.
i started writing because of one of my incredible best friends (you can check out her blogs here or here) and she is also one of the reasons i have this courage to post in the first place. i get my strength from the people i love so to be away from them even just a little bit is hard, but i know i can manage and survive because of those relationships and the hope i carry as well.
as stupid as it sounds, superman gave me a lot of hope. in the beginning, this was going to be a blog for a lot of shitposting and anime fics - and it quickly spiraled into something else that i both cannot control and am not mad about. superman means a lot to me, especially for someone who wasn't all that interested in seeing it until i saw others loving it online (i'm a sheep. i'm sorry) and it reminded me how much i love heroes and how badly i needed one right now.
all of this is to say that i appreciate everything. every like, every comment, every reblog, every note. especially every follower. and just because i'm not posting writing as frequently doesn't mean i won't see it all. it seriously never fails to make me smile. you guys are incredible and i'll be back as soon as i can breathe comfortably again.
-with all my love, kiki <3
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“c’mon, cause i know what i like - and you’re looking just like my type!” ⋆。°✩
(james gunn superman) jimmy olsen x party girl!reader
okay so this one took me a liiiittle bit longer to get out and is all over the place, my life is a slight mess right now so if this seems jumpy or inconsistent i apologize, but party girl!reader (now retired because life smh) part two is here! part three is in the works and will happen (eventually) for reasons y'all will see soon enough. know i'm trying and i could neva eva abandon y'all!! (wc: 3.4k)
warnings: swearing (don't act surprised, you know me), mentions of past partying, also that reader got their bellybutton pierced? just at some point which reminds me!! mostly gn!reader again but you are referred to as "my girl" once. oh and also sparkles. no i'm not sorry
back to the alleyway | part one
the first time you ever set foot in metropolis, it's because you're running away.
in your defense - gotham kind of sucked. not in any major way, but you were relocated to their local office of your boring desk job for some corporate reason you couldn't really decipher. so you went, even if it was farther than you wanted because you assumed that, hey - maybe it wouldn't be terrible.
it was. it was terrible. for you, at least.
your friends were scattered across the country, you had to leave what little coworkers you tolerated, and your family is now miles and miles away at any given point. gotham at least had a cheaper cost of living, but your furnished apartment brought little comfort when their were constantly supervillains duking it out in the alley beneath your window. and that was on the edges of the city.
not to mention that your boss expected you to do the work of a secretary, for the salary of an intern. that was the worst part, being ordered around and treated like something expendable when you weren't. you knew that you weren't.
so when you found out they wanted to move you closer to the heart, even further from everything and everyone you loved, you refused. especially because they wanted to cut your pay for it also. your boss stressed the decision - it was either relocation (again) or termination. the choice was laughably easy, actually.
so, now you're here. in a new city, with a nice unemployment check - because they at least did that correctly - and a new beginning. you forgot how nice it feels to breathe.
metropolis. well, at least it's safer than gotham. it has that going for it right off the bat.
your new apartment is cute. it has a balcony, and a fire escape, and even rooftop access if you play your cards right and act nice with your landlord. this is your chance to start over. and so, you do.
with every deep clean, every redecoration, every new piece of furniture, you can feel yourself returning. gotham made you tough, but you were tough before. you needed something more than just survival. and this feels like a good place for something more. it takes barely a day with the help of the movers, and suddenly the flat you're just renting out starts to feel like home.
you have an interview with your new boss the day after next. so you spend the morning before shopping with what money you had set aside for a rainy day and completely deck out your wardrobe, just the way you like it. a new work bag, new shoes, new whatever. you name it. it feels like freedom - and, kind of is. they're much more relaxed about their dress code. and you get some cute keychains for your bag.
and when the time finally comes, you're ready. all mr. white wants to see is how much you can do, where your skills will work the best. it's a publisher, but at least all your moonlighting as a secretary means you can edit. write, eh, maybe a little, but your talent is with numbers. that's where you know you can impress him.
you get dressed, and with your new clothes, you feel more put together than you have in months. you also stop at the coffee shop you found along your route the other day. it's not that overpriced, but for coffee in the city, it could be worse. so you don't complain. the doorman is sweet also, and directs you where you need to go even though you kind of already know.
the elevator ride up is more nerve wracking than it should be.
the daily planet is beautiful, especially before work hours. mr. white called you in early so he'd have time to talk to you properly before he was stuck running around, hounding his employees all day. you can tell he's doing his best to put you at ease, in his own gruff kind of way, but you're too busy looking around to be anxious.
it sounds corny, but the way the sun lights everything up and bathes it in gold? it could bring you to your knees, it's so beautiful. the desks are organized, sat in pairs or facing each other. you're not sure you'll have a cubicle in the center of the bullpen alongside the reporters, but you don't mind. you don't need to be in the center of the action. you just need a job you don't hate.
the interview is a little tense, at first - you're expecting to get hounded for your degree choice or why you chose the daily planet of all companies. but in reality, the conversation flows once he asks you about your specialty. and then you don't shut up. you don't think he minds necessarily, but also that after this, you might want to chose your words just a little more carefully.
it doesn't take much after that. of course you're hired. it'd be a surprise if you weren't.
⋆。°✩
jimmy's had a rough morning. another intern quit, which marks the second one this month. he doesn't care, not really. he has his circle, his bubble, and that's just the way he likes it. it does, however, mean that he's taking on more than he should really have to.
so, add that to the fact that there's spilled coffee both on his shirt and on some of his unused (and now ruined) film, and that he barely slept because off all the coffee the day before - he's not doing so great.
lois is trying to complain to him, talking about sources or something and some other. jimmy isn't listening, he's just wishing the day was over already. and perry's been busy all morning, which isn't helping his mood either. he needs this next piece greenlit so he can move on to the other one in his queue of projects, but he still hasn't come out of his office and come on man, what could possibly-
the doors opening - finally - and jimmy shoots up out of his chair, rough draft in hand. he doesn't even look when he speeds over, already talking and flipping through stapled pages like it's on fire. he just wants this over with so it can get uploaded before the rest of his portfolio rots away.
"hey, chief, need you to read over this real quick so i can-" and then he looks up and nearly topples over from how hard he stops. you think his shoes probably left tire treads on the tile.
oh, shit.
you don't look much different. you've changed how you do your hair a little, and you're taller. half a decade has changed the way you carry yourself, maybe, but other than that - that's it. you look like you. he wishes he had bothered to try and look presentable today. or something else, he thinks his brain is failing right now. god, he's staring. he knows he is, but he can't help it. not when you're here and-
are you staying?
he blinks. you look just as startled as he does, but you're starting to smile. just a little. perry doesn't even really notice, just closes the distance jimmy left open and grabs the paper from him. he reads it quickly, nods, make another comment about not calling him chief, and then ignores jimmy's existence entirely.
he doesn't even mind. perry's saying something about where your desk will be - next to lois, how lucky is he gonna get? - and what your workload will look like. monitoring numbers, seeing what grabs the publics attention and how, which categories or styles are best suited for each writer. hell, you even get a title. head marketing director. you don't even know if it's a real title, but you don't care.
you get to design logos and offer input on the layout headings and photos of the papers also. this is already a step up from gotham. in a lot of ways.
it doesn't take long for him to approach you once perry disappears and everyone else is done saying polite hellos. and the time it does take is used to simply steel his nerves. he doesn't know why he's so nervous - it's just you, after all. but that's the issue. it's you.
so, when you're in the middle on unpacking whatever random trinkets and decorations you brought in for your desk, he takes lois getting more coffee as an opportunity. he walks over, tries not to trip over himself. fails miserably.
"hi stranger." he sticks his hands in his pockets to stop from fiddling with them. he's trying to look cool and unbothered, though he doubts he can keep it up. he's already made a fool of himself.
"hi, jimmy." you smile all coy, like you knew one way or another you'd end up here with him. even though you really, really didn't.
"so, you're uh- here? like, officially?" he rocked backed and forth, shifting his weight like it could sift out the right words from his brain. he's still not over the shock and it still kind of feels like he's blue screening right now.
"mhm. head marketing director and everything. wanna see my salary?" you smile again, tilt your head, and he feels his heart physically move in his chest. shit, it hasn't even been five minutes of talking to you and he's already a goner all over again.
but he doesn't say anything, just laughs and keeps watching you unpack. more random figures, one he recognizes from a show you made him watch a lifetime ago, a few pictures. and then he sees it.
another picture, the one of the two of you from that party sophomore year ages ago, where you're both covered in glitter and can't sit still.
he blinks a few times. feels his mouth dry up on the spot. makes the cognitive decision - actually thinks it out in his mind - how little being cool means and how much he doesn't care about nonchalance in this moment.
"i missed you. uhm. by the way." he throws it out like its casual. you both know it isn't, since it stops you with your hand midway in your bag.
"i missed you too, jackass." you roll your eyes like it doesn't mean the world to hear that from him.
and then, you're both screwed.
you meet his coworkers - clark, lois, steve, and cat - and they seem nice enough. steve makes you wonder, but the others seem able to straighten him out, so you don't exactly mind. cat compliments your outfit and clark assures you that if you need anything, you can come to him (much to jimmy's dismay at first). lois is sharp as all hell but relaxes a little when jimmy gives her a look.
you love her already.
you learn the work is somehow both easy and fulfilling, a combination you haven't had in ages. not since you were first working towards your degree in the first place. jimmy spends half of his time leaning over his cubicle and trying to talk to you, much to lois' annoyance. you four discuss superman and what he means for the future of metropolis.
the other three are slightly surprised when you mention that you haven't seen superman yet, outside of the articles you've read and the pictures you've seen. you're grateful, cause it means you've avoided any major disaster since you moved in. he seems alright, maybe a little happy-go-lucky for your taste, but not evil like that bald guy keeps preaching on the tv.
clark laughs when you make the comment. and then the days fly by. you get adjusted quickly, fall back into a routine with jimmy like you never really left one at all. it doesn't feel like you did. he's just as sweet as he was back in school. he even remembers your drink preference when your brain starts to turn to mush and you need a pick me up.
you can't remember why you and jimmy ever stopped talking - one of you got into a relationship, you think? couple that with the distance and the inability to party as grown ass adults with big kid jobs...
whatever. you missed him.
and you do help out, even outside of offering some sense normalcy for him. but now it feels like helping and not being ordered around. you make runs to the other departments if perry asks for an update on their numbers, pick up drinks for the four of you when you're coming back. scribble random details lois asks you to keep track of for her. maybe you're still slightly acting like a secretary, but you don't mind this time - at least you're getting paid properly.
and besides - you're helping out your friends. how could you mind? and the others love you. except when jimmy's puppy dog act starts to get on their nerves.
his stupid ringtone is going off again, and lois is about to tear her hair out for the third time today. it's some song you mentioned forever ago, and then he made it specifically yours once he actually listened to it. all these years later, it's still your song. thank god you never changed numbers.
"yell-o?" jimmy picked up the phone as casually as he could once he saw the name on the screen. spelled out in thick block letters accompanied by a picture he got of you years ago at another party he dragged you off to, blurry and out of focus.
you're standing on a couch, hair messed up and your outfit a state after god knows what. you're screaming song lyrics you don't actually know and you're absolutely covered in glitter. this picture is kind of the only memory you both have of the night after all the partying you did.
you hate the photo. he made it your contact picture the minute he realized he even had it, because it summarizes your college years better than anything else could.
"you owe me for this jimmy. so fucking much." you're annoyed. and tense, he can tell. your voice is all strained like it normally gets when your body scrunches up. you're out getting some pictures for him while he's stuck following up with a source of his back at the office.
you call it headquarters. he doesn't really argue.
"yeah, yeah. i know. but the senator is inside that meeting, we know he is. you just gotta get proof of him leaving and we're set." he puts a little emphasis on his words hoping you'll keep sticking it out. it doesn't work. he lent you one of his old cameras with settings already figured out so you could get a discernable picture for him.
"that's great and all, but i've been sitting here for three hours burning gas and nursing a cold coffee i don't even like!" you're yelling now. it's hard to remain inconspicuous, even in the old car you dragged to this city when you moved when you're being so loud.
but you really don't care - you're tired, hungry, and at this point you think you've wasted away half your muscle mass. being helpful does not mean suffering.
"c'mon. work a little magic for me? please?" he tries for a sweeter approach, and you don't say anything at first. just huff - aggressively.
"you're a pain in my ass, james." he can hear you rolling your eyes, but the irritation is (mostly) gone from your voice. you only ever use his government name when you're trying to make fun of him, but he doesn't mind if it's you. he won't admit to himself why - at least, not yet.
"that's my girl." he smiles into the receiver like you can see him before you curse him out some more and hang up. he sets his phone down to get back to work, but he can feel lois staring at him from across the cubicle. she seems slightly less annoyed now also.
look at him go, he's two-for-two.
"jimmy and sparkles sittin' in a tree." lois starts to hum the rest of the tune before jimmy cuts her off. it's been her go-to nickname since she saw some of the pictures from school, old ones that jimmy had lying around. you don't mind, but you refuse to acknowledge them as your "glory days" when you spent your time living off of bad dining hall food and 2 hours of sleep a semester.
"heyheyhey- knock it off. and seriously? still, with the sparkles?" he looks at her like she might be crazy and like you might somehow overhear.
"oh, come on. i feel like the glitter speaks for itself, here." she's smiling at him like she just won the lottery and jimmy rolls his eyes.
"sparkles is banned. don't use it again." he says it like it's a threat, but he's smiling when he sees you've texted him. more complaining and cursing him out, probably, but it's fine. he's just happy that you aren't going to kill him when you get back to the office.
when you do come back, you hassle him and tell him he owes you gas money and this and that, but he doesn't care. it's like every time you come back to the office, it's just as fun as the first time.
and so, you keep coming back. you don't think anything could keep you away at this point.
it's months later that things start to change, for real this time. you're staying later at the office, or asking him to come over to look at your notes when you don't really need him to. it's just a excuse to eat takeout and hangout like you used to. the lines are starting to blur again, more and more, but neither of you will call the other on it.
you're at the office when the line splits.
you have to give your first quarterly report for the year, which you don't exactly mind. but it's been years since you had to do any sort of public speaking and you really don't wanna. you're complaining to the others, half sitting on the free space of jimmy's desk while he tries to solve a crossword.
"you're seriously nervous?" lois asks, looking over a cup of way too sweet coffee. clark's ears poke up and he rolls his way over by the conjoined desks and jimmy snorts. your attention shoots over to him and you smack him lightly on the back of the head.
"no. i just don't love doing it. it's awkward, you know?" you shift your weight uncomfortably. jimmy rubs his hand across his neck like it hurts (it doesn't) and glances over.
"liar. you hate public speaking. you have since forever." he shrugs and goes back to his crossword, stuck on a word going down the screen.
"that doesn't mean i'm scared. or nervous." you point out the answer to jimmy before turning your attention back to clark and lois. "i've done worse. i just..."
jimmy spins around in his seat and gives you a look. you know what's coming, it's been used as an argument since it first happened.
"i held your hand while you got your bellybutton pierced, but you can't handle five minutes of public speaking?" he smiles like the little shit he is. you sigh. damn you, jimmy.
you have to spend 20 minutes dodging questions from an astonished clark and a curious lois, but you think that might be because she wants to get hers done too (you catch her looking at jewelry later).
the rest of the day goes by smoothly, despite clark's strange absence for a good deal of it. but you've learned to ignore his oddities, because c'mon. it's clark! he's been affectionately helpful since day one. even when he's late all the time, even when he gets a little too excited when discussing superman, even when he disappears at random.
you're at your desk, typing away and planning what you're gonna say at this meeting. it's not just the numbers since you've begun, but the summary of past reports from before you showed up - you think it'll be good to be proactive in your summary. you're immersed in your work when the announcement goes off that there's a monster destroying downtown.
the tv's are going as they always are, jimmy's asking lois about source intel, and everyone's running around doing their own thing while some reptilian monster continues to terrorize the city. the news blares on, live and covering the footage they're able to gather of both superman and the justice gang eventually euthanizing the terror.
and then the coverage shifts. and metropolis' very own superman is declared to be a monster.
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jimmy olsen hive is being fed so well thank u for ur service
i am but a humble servant, doing my duty to my people,,,,, no but seriously thank you i'm so happy people like my garbage in the first place <3
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my first time making it to a rec list!! thank you so so so much jimmy olsen community i love you!!!
⭒ Jimmy Olsen Recs
08/18/2025
⭒ Detective Comics (DC)
Jimmy Olsen x reader | @vamplvs
hard to get | @theshiniestgemstone
Newspaper love | @blueberrypancakesworld
Working at the Daily Planet in Metropolis was a dream of hers. Being a part of the paper now was something wonderful, but most of all it was a certain red-haired colleague who had been sweetening her work since her arrival. The only question was, were his feelings serious or was Jimmy Olsen just faking it?
You play a little game of twister with Jimmy Olsen | @crowdedbatcave
You play a little game of twister with Jimmy Olsen ft. Lois Lane and Clark Kent
but, you still lick the wrapper | @genieswishes
Headcanons for being a psychic superhero and dating Jimmy Olsen | @moonlit-imagines
Close Call | @strawberry-knights
You’ve been pining after Jimmy for months, but haven’t gotten the courage to ask him out. The imminent threat of death makes you reconsider.
On Deadline | @dem-obscure-imagines
Jimmy Olsen is catnip for girls, much to his own chagrin. Luna Moth, Metropolis’ newest hero, is way out of his league. But since when has that ever stopped him from trying to take a lucky shot?
“i was doing fine without you, til i saw your face” | @worldsmostesoteric
“somebody new is floating around the office, and a certain photographer is going a liiiittle crazy.”
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your account theme is soo cute and i love love love the jimmy olsen appreciation
HEHEHEH thank yew!!! once i thought of it i was like wait omg i gotta and also. yeah. i've gone and seen superman 3 times at this point and every time i fall for him and clark just a liiiiiil harder. but there's tons of amazing clark writers out there and jimmy olsen fans deserve love also!!
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"i don't wanna go to sleep, i wanna stay up all night, i wanna just screw around!" ⋆。°✩
(james gunn superman) jimmy olsen x party girl!reader

"oh god. olsen's here. yeah, and he brought his little friend with him. dude, 'not a big deal?' didn't you see what happened last time they went to a frat party?"
look me in my eyes and tell me jimmy "babygirl" olsen wasn't a party freak when he was in college. maybe i'm projecting but this series came to me in a prophetic vision and i had to write it. i was literally a woman possessed i did this in a single day it's not even funny oh my god. anyways another 3 part for you!! i'm working on the other parts now and then it's back to clark hehehe (wc: 3.6k)
warnings: mostly gn!reader (but you do wear a lot of glitter), mentions of normal party stuff (y/a shenanigans, drinking, smoking, slight nastiness) but nothing in crazy detail. swearing cause it's me. uhhhh burnt out students?? (this is me coping with school. universe if you hear me send me a jimmy)
back to the alleyway | part two
school sucks. that much you know, even as someone heading into their second year of college. you don't need to be experienced in university headaches to be aware of the obvious.
yes, you're furthering your education. yes, not everyone has the opportunity to go to school in the first place. yes, this is a good place for you to begin your career. but you're on your third project of the week (it's a tuesday) and it feels like your schedule is trying to give you rabies.
you're contemplating all this as you sit in the library. it's your favorite spot, and there's nobody else ever around here. probably cause the librarian's in the middle of rearranging all the old newspapers, so there's a maze of boxes to get through. but the table's out of the way, there's a working outlet, and you can even see the courtyard from up here.
as far as you know, you're the only one who knows about all the hidden benefits. and that means you're left alone and can study in peace without fighting for a table. for the most part, anyways.
you hear someone tripping over themselves, sneakers kicking into cardboard and scuffing the carpet. there's some cursing, both of the box and of the files inside, and then you look up and there he is. jimmy olsen.
he looks like a slight wreck, wearing a ratty old pajama shirt and some sweatpants. his hair's a mess and his eyebags are crazy deep also, but he's smiling. even if he looks just as exhausted as you are, if not more. you at least got to take a nap after your last class - his just finished.
he mumbles something that might be hello, and sets the drinks he's carrying down on the table beside your papers and drops his bag. coffee for him, an energy drink for you. technically another energy drink, since you just finished your other one.
but when jimmy notices the empty can already on the table, he begins sliding the unopened one away like you might claw at him if he takes it. you're tempted, but instead you just lunge forward before he can even register your movement and grab his wrist to stop him.
"i can not, in good conscience, let you have another one of those things." he tries grabbing the drink from you again with his free hand but you don't budge.
"i'll be fine, you act like i'll die." you shuffle around some more of your notes to look for a specific paper. your theoretical marketing output schedule, you think, but you can't really remember. you got the paper a week ago. jimmy finds it in two seconds once he sits down.
"you will. heart attack. i'll sing at your funeral." he nods solemnly like he's already picked out your tombstone for you. you scoff and roll your eyes, taking the paper from him and looking for your last opened word doc on the glowing screen.
"i party like a rockstar. and if i die, it’ll be the way i lived. glittery." you brush a spec of shiny plastic off of your leg as you talk, noticing the shine a mile away. you swear the stuff follows you around no matter where you go at this point, and no matter how many times you shower.
"well no shit." jimmy laughs like you've just stated the obvious. "i watched you do three shots last night then dance on top of a table. i'm amazed you aren't hungover right now." he shakes his head. rockstar is definitely one way to put it, but he can't think of anything better right now.
"who said i wasn't?" you pinch the space between your eyes and try to stop the mild headache working it's way back up. jimmy laughs again, mumbling something about his own work as he pulls out his laptop. he's working on some bonus assignment for his photojournalism credit. different majors you both are, yes.
but nobody really understands the work-life balance like jimmy does.
you met freshman year, some random major-mixer full of inexperienced young adults and awkward small talk. you spoke a little, knowing that business and journalism overlap ever so slightly, every once in a while. whether it's for good reasons or not (cough cough bad press coverage of large corporations).
but it was barely small talk, if you could even call it that. you both had no idea what you were doing, and as charming as jimmy was, you had to go find your roommates. but he was cute, and smart, and he never really left your mind.
and then you went to a party a few nights later. and that was where you officially met him. where he told you to call him jimmy, not james even when you teased him for it. also where you took shots together and managed to keep convincing each other that staying out late was a good idea.
it was not, but there's a fun memory in there somewhere you're still waiting for your brain to recover.
all you know is you woke up with his phone number in your contacts and "jimothu" as his saved name (you still haven't changed it). and he texted you "grt home safee" which didn't help the growing realization that he was both attractive and fun and somehow still kind of responsible.
and now you're here, with a study partner who barely knows the first thing about your major, but can parrot back what you've told him. and if you can't figure something out, you can soundboard your thoughts off of him until something clicks in that beautiful brain of yours.
he's a willing participant in the mess, mostly, even if he doesn't really have any idea what you're talking about. but you help him find small, interesting stories for his assignments and even posed for an official picture once.
(he still has it, even if he swore to delete it after submitting it to his professor for an assignment. you look nice, sue him.)
so he does kind of owe you. and you're funny. and smart. and you don't really question when he texts you saying he wants to go out for the third time this week.
speaking of which -
you look up from your assignment, locked out of your daydream and see him scrolling on his phone. damn slacker.
"remember that one frat?" he asks, not looking up from his screen and not noticing your staring habit.
"i'm gonna need you to be just a little more specific." you brush some hair out of your face and watch as he rolls his eyes. you got over his sass long ago, but you don't think he'll ever stop using it against you.
"that one from freshman halloweekend, the night you dressed up as a cat but made me wear the ears all night?" he glances over, unimpressed.
"hah. yeah, alpha something something." you snort at the memory, knowing there's a video of him somewhere in your camera roll with the ears on, sleeping on the floor of your dorm. "why, what's up?"
he turns his phone to you and shows you some badly made flyer for a party tomorrow. it's bright, and was clearly made by some poor, probably still wasted fraternity brother who did it last minute. but it says as long as you have the flyer, you can get in. and that's good enough for jimmy.
"ughhhh." you drag out the world and set your face in your hands. "another? seriously? i think i might still be drunk from the one yesterday." you complain and peek out from your fingers.
"no, you're not. i've seen you still drunk, you don't whine nearly as much." he nudges you with his shoulder and you fall dramatically across your papers. "c'mon, it could be fun!"
"it's gonna be on a wednesday, jimmy. how is going to my 10-am thursday lecture nauseous going to be fun?" you glare over at him, still partially horizontal. he's trying to use his puppy dog eyes, and it's not working this time. you don't take the bait.
"why do you hate me?" he turns his phone off after a minute of silent (and failed) pleading, but despite being turned down, he's still smiling.
"i don't hate you, i hate feeling like death and walking into a class still smelling like booze. at least the weekend ones, i have time to recover." you sit back up and rub at your eyes. he shrugs, conceding (for now), but you know you'll probably get another text about it later. or some other function he'll try and drag you out to when he says he has no one else to go with.
that's only partially true, you know that he has other friends. it's just that none of them are really all that interested with trying to keep up, especially when he's spurred on by you there with him. you make things fun.
so instead, when you decline, he'll stay in for the night. work on assignments when he's actually supposed to, not minutes before they're due. he'll clean up, watch something, take care of himself. he's not an animal after all, he knows when it's time for a break.
he just likes making memories, and you know that just as much as he does.
but for now, he'll sit around and wait. ask what you want for lunch, insist you go with him to pick it up before you have to separate off for classes again. he'll walk you to your dorm once you're both finished since you're in the same hall and he's a floor below you, and bother you again after with another idea.
because there's always something going on on campus.
⋆。°✩
jimmy sticks to his words this time. you make it through the rest of the week, submitting work and dragging yourself through lectures without hearing anything about any sort of party. you make it all the way to saturday morning before he suggests a different one he found.
now that welcome week is over and there's not just a bunch of freshman looking for their first taste of freedom, all the usual party-throwers are waking from hibernation. and a lot of the cops that hang around campus are starting to relax now that there's a lot less worry of inexperienced underage drinking. as far as they know, at least.
because apparently jimmy's roommate's friend's lab partner or something or some other is throwing a party.
"and because you ditched me earlier this week you owe me" you stare at the message like it's threatening you. you know he would never make you go if you didn't want to, you know that. and you could probably suggest finding a movie to watch in the quad like they always do on saturdays, but-
oh what the hell. this week sucked, you deserve some fun.
so when he tells you be ready at 10, you shower at 6. have your hair done by 8, and your outfit picked at 8:13. you spend the rest of your time asking your roommates for feedback and finishing your makeup and sticking on some jewelry.
you're ready at 9:50, and two minutes later when you tell jimmy that, there he is in your doorway and watching as you kick on your shoes. wearing a random t shirt he bought ages ago with some jeans and the same sneakers he always has on.
"nice outfit." he scans you and nods like he means it, but he's got that stupid smug smile on his face. you close the door behind you, shouting goodbye to your roommate and locking the door. you toss your keys to jimmy, trusting them in his pocket more than your own.
"you didn't give me a theme, jackass." you huff and stick your hands in the back pocket of your shorts. he laughs and takes off to the elevator ahead of you at the end of the hall.
"there isn't one." he shrugs and does his best to look innocent after pressing a button.
"yeah? sure it isn't corny t-shirts?" you nudge him with your elbow and point to the fading graphic on his chest.
"low blow, low blow." and then the elevator comes and you make it outside before he starts talking again. "why, you wanna switch shirts?" he copies your move from earlier and points to the sparkly top you have on.
"oh my god, shut upppppp." you swat his hand away and listen to the way he laughs as you take off down the sidewalk. and he pokes and messes with you the entire way there.
douche.
when you do finally make it to the house, you realize it'll be a miracle if the cops don't get called within the next two hours. it's clearly a noise complaint waiting to happen, but those parties are always the best ones anyways.
as long as you don't have to hop another fence. jimmy almost died when he face planted on the ground last time.
there's piles and piles of cars lining the street, parked in ways that betray all sorts of traffic laws. some you recognize, some you don't. and this, you remind yourself, is why we both walk. that, and it's easier than having to secure a designated driver every time.
there's some kids laying out on the front lawn, seltzers and burnt out vapes clutched in half-conscious hands. there's silhouettes of kids dancing in front of the window, backlit by dollar general light systems and bad music. you and jimmy have to push past some random kids making out on the porch to get inside, and when you do, it's even more chaotic than the street.
the music that was just heavy bass outside is now a million times stronger - and louder - and there's more people than you think should be physically possible. everybody's pressed together, and you spot people pouring out of the kitchen with solo cups in their hands filled with what will probably taste like rubbing alcohol. you blink, and before you know it, there's a girl spreading glitter on your arms with a saccharine sweet smile.
she's done up in a tight dress, some pretty pink thing you think you saw a few weeks ago at the mall. she's covered in sparkles and has her hair pulled back in the tightest bun you've ever seen. it takes you a minute to register that she's wearing some sparkly fairy wings, also.
she leaves some more glitter in your hands, the gel already beginning to dry down in your palms. she points behind you, mumbles something that sounds a lot like "for your boyfriend!" and then disappears off into the sea of people like a mermaid and compliments your hair over her shoulder.
you pause, not knowing what to do for a solid second or two. then you feel jimmy bump into you when you stop and your brain starts working again. you motion for him to follow you, searching for a slightly less busy corner of the house where you can stand still and not be pushed around by a million people.
you end up against the wall, jimmy questioning what's going and what the hell is all over your hands and where did you get it in the first place?
you don't pause after, or really think for that matter, just grab his arms and cover him in glitter to match you. left arm, then his right. and there's still more left over, so you carefully grab his face and wipe a little on his cheeks.
"ohhhh- hi." he smiles like a doofus when you rub your thumbs back and forth and leave your fingers cradling his jaw. you roll your eyes, running what's left down the front of his neck. he swallows, and can feel his skin burning and oh my god thank god it's dark in here because he is bright red and he really does not need you to know how flustered he is right now.
you wipe your hands off finally on your shorts, clearing the gel from your hands. it's not long after that you find a drink stuck between your fingers, then another, then another. jimmy brought one of his cameras, a small digital one that he hates admitting he owns so he only ever takes it to parties.
he gets one of you cheering. another of you meeting back up with glitter-girl from earlier and hugging even though you don't even know her name. you take it from him and there he is, dancing to a song he doesn't know and looking like a dork. another of you. a bad selfie of the two of you together before someone offers to take the picture.
he hand goes around your waist out of instinct, and lean onto him like you've done it a million times before. at this point, you kinda have. there's a couple of them cause the first two come out blurry and you both can't stop laughing. another of you doing a shot. a blurry one of him smiling. another one of you. you giving a thumbs up. you. you.
when you're both significantly more tipsy than when you first arrived and half the people have cleared out, you agree that it might be time to head home. he double checks that he still has your keys, his phone, his camera, and then makes sure you're nearby and ready to go. he also ended up with your phone, somehow, but at least one of you has it.
you stumble out the front, pushing past more kids tangled together in the grass and left out beer bottles. something tells you that you should stop and throw them away, but your feet are already hurting and you really just wanna lay down right now. you'll come back tomorrow if you're still alive and help clean up.
jimmy loops his arm through yours and leads you down the sidewalk, stepping over stomped out blunts and more random shit. the night air helps your brain a little at least, sobering up slightly when the breeze hits.
you two don't really speak, having done this enough times before to know that the words never come out the way you really want them to. for a number of reasons, but neither one of you will admit that.
"am i dropping you off?" he scrunches his face together like he's genuinely confused, scanning his student ID into the dorm hall's security system. you try and be as quiet as possible, but you can hear the security guard listening to some awful pop song and you both start giggling like little kids. eventually you stop and shake your head.
"i'll sleep at yours, i don't care. i just want to go to bed." you answer and rub your eyes, feeling your makeup get a little ruined. whoops - you forgot about the eyeliner. and the rest of the glitter.
jimmy just nods and pushes another button and before you know it, you're outside his door and watching him fumble with his keys. he gets it (after a solid attempt with his car key) and before you know it, you're flat on his bed. jimmy goes to get changed, and you watch sleepily from the corner of your eye with the pillow swallowing your face.
you think you fall asleep, since the next time you open your eyes, jimmy's back in another old shirt and some pajama pants that do not match. you look at the tiny dinosaurs covering his legs while he urges you to at least get up and get changed. he's also had the sense to brush his teeth, since while he helps you sit up and tosses a shirt at you, the smell of cheap mint and faded cologne swallows you.
you get changed (somehow) swapping your party outfit and shoes for the top he threw at you and a set of basketball shorts. when you leave the bathroom, there he is, asleep on the tiny couch shoved against the free wall of his room. he always leaves the bed for you, damn gentlemen, and he's out cold when you crawl under his sheets.
you leave your jewelry in a pile on his nightstand, listening to him breathe as you fall asleep just as fast. in and out, in and out. you dream of camera flashes and lightning bolts and flying and softness.
and that's how the rest of your college years go. you and jimmy don't stop encouraging bad behavior and then helping each other out of it. you keep making incredible grades on your assignments, and you pull through every time with a new theory or a way to streamline the work. you watch as you both grow up a little, get taller and start ever so slowly running out of time until suddenly there's none at all.
you keep studying together, prepping for midterms and for finals and trying not to lose your mind while you do it. you tease him the one time he shows you how he looks in a suit, prepping for a meeting with the guy organizing his internship. you hate that he's going so far, but you know it'll be good for him and that it'll stick. you both keep digging holes for yourselves and letting the other pull you right back out.
and then you graduate. and it's five years before you see him again.
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and if i said the next fic was the first part in a series jimmy olsen x party girl!reader who have to work together years after graduation then what (moodboard below)
party girl!reader: late nights and early mornings. messy closet. always has candy on her. 4.0 GPA. complainer. naps in between lectures. jimmy once watched her solve a crossword in two minutes. sweetest person ever. polaroids. disorganized backpack and disorganized files.
(i use she/her and say “girl” but tbh anyone can be a party girl the same way anyone can be a baby girl. does that make sense? who cares!)
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"and the only thing i can think about is you!" ⋆。°✩
(james gunn superman) clark kent x editor!reader
"did you see that kent guy? no i know, he's massive, it's insane. you're telling me he looks like that and he's single? no way. he's gotta be hiding something."
so. i watched superman for the third time today. you know what that means.
i had to feed my clark lovers (me included) after almost turning into a jimmy fan account for a second...but i have series/pieces longer than just headcanons in mind for both of em at this point. and in the spirit of NOT flooding y'all's feeds this one is long and basically a mega list of hc for clark my goofy lil guy :') even if there's a lot more regular writing in this and the hc-style is more of a framing device than anything else.....but anyways
warnings: a liiiiiittle bit of swearing, if you've watched criminal minds imagine spencer/elle and this is that kind of. yeah. anyways reader is gn! and kind of a workaholic mess subtly but it's okay we all stay on that grind tbh
back to the alleyway
editor!reader who's been working at the daily planet since it was barely a startup. it's always had a good reputation for impressive stories, and when perry agrees to hire you, that positive reputation only grows.
editor!reader who's been working for months, climbing the ranks with an impressive past of both editor of high school and university newspapers, blogs with emotionally grabbing articles about anything that piqued your interest and a near perfect score in any english class.
editor!reader who has survived countless interns who dropped when they couldn't take the chaos of the office, but made friends with the ones that have stuck, even if they're a lot newer to this than you are.
editor!reader who can handle anything. last minute deadlines changes, early meetings and late nights, caffeine filled emails and emergencies all like it's nothing. you know how to bend and not break. you've got hobbies, you decorate your cubicle, organize your work and home time. things that help you from burning out entirely, but you're adaptable. that's where the power is.
and then perry throws a kansas sized wrench into all of your plans.
it's a tuesday when it happens. you're already exhausted from the week, two of your sources getting back to you at the same time for three separate articles. lois is handling the third contact, thank god. which means you can focus on drafting these last two. you switch between tabs like it might mean war - and for a second, while you're so in your own head and worried about this story - it feels like it might. and then your boss walks right over with all of his usual levels of unbothered nonchalance. there's someone trailing behind him, looking around at everything almost like he's in awe. he can't be much older than you - you're probably the same age in all honesty, but he's just so tall. and he's broad shouldered, which should make you feel intimidated considering how imposing his form is, but he's looking around with wide eyes like the office has stars hung inside of it. he's wearing a full suit which considering the summer heat is ridiculous. there’s a few curls are stuck to his forehead, but when he turns to you, he's smiling. like nothing could ever bother him. and god, he's beautiful. blue eyes, black hair, tanned skin. he's even got a few freckles. perry says your name and you snap out of it almost immediately. there is not time for daydreaming when you've already got a bad feeling growing about whatever this is going to be. "this is clark kent, newest intern. he's got a resume only slightly less impressive than yours, i figure you can show the kid the ropes." he moves to light the cigar in his mouth like he hasn't just wrecked your entire schedule. you're screaming internally at the thought of having this job - no matter how pretty - dumped into your lap. maybe he’ll catch on fast, but that thought doesn't do much to soothe you. perry walks away, telling this kent guy that his first article is due next monday. "sink or swim kid, your choice." and then the door to his office shuts. and you're left with a country sized problem, eyeing the desk in front of you instead of making eye contact and mumbling hello to your files.
editor!reader who has never really had to train anyone before, ever. and doesn't really know what to do with clark, even though he shows up every time you call and is attentive as hell.
editor!reader who is trying to good by him. keyword is trying.
editor!reader who now has a too-small folding chair drug up to the desk for him to sit in while he learns new software and website formatting to keep all the dates in order. his first piece is something small, an overview of a politician's plans for the city following their (possible) success in the upcoming election.
you can practically feel how nervous he is. you do your best to reassure him.
a few days later, he's sent out into the field with another new hire. jared, maybe? james? no, he told everyone to call him jimmy. he seems alright enough too, though he's photojournalism and that's outside of your ruling domain. so you see him off with a wave and a small nod of encouragement and try to hold off on how anxious you're feeling.
editor!reader who is now trying to convince yourself and everyone else that the only reason you're nervous is because if it goes bad, it could reflect poorly on you. not that the country charm is starting to work. not at all.
editor!reader who does light up a little when clark comes back, coffee in hand a wide smile on his face. "the conference went well!" and he's smiling even harder now while jimmy runs off to his desk to upload some pictures he got. clark turns bright red when he remembers the coffee in his hands, extending it to you like it might be a bouquet of flowers and not a beverage.
editor!reader who also smiles when clark rambles some more. "i'm not sure if you like iced coffee, i texted lois to ask for your order. the coffee place nearby was kind of intimidating and me and jimmy had no idea what we were doing. but it also seemed too hot for regular coffee?"
editor!reader who has to cut him off, giving him a small word of thanks and that makes his absolute week. he's even redder now, laughing through the awkwardness and sitting as gracefully as he can. he asks you about your day while he was gone and how your other projects are going.
editor!reader who silently cheers when his first article is approved and uploaded and goes smoothly, both online and in front of perry. you had to stand in for his first meeting one-on-one, and you would be lying if you said you weren't nervous. you've gotten somewhat attached to him, even though it's only been a week, and you would hate to see him fired.
so, when perry nods and tells him to run it, you're internally jumping for joy.
editor!reader who now has a desk across from clark's new one (once he becomes an official employee), but he still spends half of his time floating around yours anyway. asking for editing help, advice on what picture looks better with the formatting, if there's anything he can get you while he's up.
editor!reader who is utterly gone for once he brings you breakfast one morning without being asked or without being told your order. he tries to frame is as he was already stopping because jimmy asked, but the red-head shuts that down real fast with a quick yell. "did not, clark. if you're gonna lie on my name, at least make it believable, please!"
editor!reader who now has a best friend in the office and a new band to listen to when you miss him on his sick days.
⋆。°✩
editor!reader who is trying to adjust to having a reason other than work to look forward to being in the office.
you keep telling yourself its because he's such a stupidly good person. it drives you up the wall, and at this rate, you're going to lose your mind if something doesn't change. but it does, gradually. he brings you coffee, you buy him lunch despite his vehement refusal. "ma would kill me if she knew..." but he takes it anyways because he hates wasting food even more.
you help him edit more articles, even though at this rate, you really don't think he needs it. he'll split your workload with you, since perry is still inclined to putting as much as you can fit on your plate and clark really hates seeing you stressed.
editor!reader who hangs around late under the guise of finishing work, which you do have some projects that need attention. but the night normally ends with you and clark sitting on the floor, backs against the window and splitting lunch leftovers.
editor!reader who is getting way too adjusted to him, way too quickly. he just slots in with everything else so easily, it almost scares you. his jokes are corny, but they make you laugh. he rambles, especially when he gets excited or nervous about something, but you listen. he carefully pushes your boundaries to try and get closer, and you just let him. what is going on?
and then, he starts showing up late for work.
editor!reader who doesn't really notice at first. or at least, you try not to. clark's always hurrying around, no matter where he's going. you just assume that he ended up on the wrong side of his punctuality for once.
and then it happens again. and again. and again.
it's spread out over a few weeks, but you're still noticing. you feel like you're overreacting, especially when nobody else is saying anything about it. maybe you're just stressed. perry's assigning you the highest honor of writing the daily planet's first official piece on this new superman guy who keeps showing up.
sure, metahumans and superheroes aren't necessarily anything new for you or for metropolis, but something about this guy is different. and trying to figure out where he's going to strike next or what's going to catch his attention first is like shooting darts blind and trying to hit the board.
in short, your strategizing is not working. at all. you can never catch him, and jimmy's pictures are nice, but they do little to cushion your theorizing. even if it is good theorizing.
editor!reader who starts staying late to write a good, honest to god article on superman, which clark seems flustered about. you can't figure out why for the life of you, since you've stayed later for less important things before. you chalk it up to all the coffee and ready-meals you've been consuming. maybe he's right when he says you should take better care of yourself. but that can wait.
editor!reader who manages to get something decent going when you fall asleep at the office. whoops.
lois is the one who finds you, still in your clothes from yesterday and slumped over your papers and now-dead laptop. when clark finds out, you think world war three might break out. he insists you go home, at least to change and shower if nothing else. trying to get you to take breaks these days is like pulling teeth.
editor!reader who agrees anyways, and in the middle of heading to the subway, something shakes the concrete beneath your feet. in your hazy, half-asleep state, the only thing you can think is that concrete is certainly not supposed to do that. at all.
when you look up, there's some gross monster stomping all over the city's center. you run, because a 9-5 daily office job hasn't completely dulled your survival instincts just yet and you'd like to live to see your next article published. but you are tired, and have been living off of cheap vending machine food and ramen for the past 48 hours. you're not moving as fast as you need to, and you know that. even with your bag left back at your desk, you feel like something is slowing you down. probably the oncoming exhaustion, if you're being honest, but right now you're more worried with staying alive. there's something coming at you and fast, but your brain tells you to keep moving forward. the motto "any progress is good progress" that has kept you motivated at work suddenly becomes very applicable. and then - you're off the ground. entirely so, not just thrown around by the impact of where you just were, but in the air. by several feet. and for a while, too. you think you might puke. until you're back on mostly solid ground, landed on the rooftop of a nearby building. you recognize it as something vaguely technical, maybe luthorcorp? your brain is reeling through the shock and the fear, and in the panic, you think someone might say your name. but when you look up, you don't see anybody you know. or, well, anybody who knows you. cause when you look up, you see superman. standing their ever so casually like he didn't just save your life. he looks worried, not effortlessly reassuring like you've always seen him. in photographs that is. this is the first time ever seeing him in person. you're a little starstruck, and he can tell. but he still waits for you to calm down and begin breathing again until he speaks. "are you alright?" he looks genuinely concerned, scanning over you for injuries. you nod, still a little in awe at the sight in front of you. man of steel, reduced to a pile of anxiety when someone he doesn't know is hurt. it's sweet, in a sad puppy kind of way. he keeps checking for cuts and bruises, while you wait for your mind to catch up to where you are. you're on a roof. with superman. who's hanging around and making sure you're alright despite his track record of flying out as soon as he confirms someone is alive or in safe hands with paramedics. this is what you've been waiting for. "can i interview you?" you can feel your head starting to throb, and you grab his arm for support. he looks surprised that you're even talking to him right now, but the shock is quickly replaced with a small smile and a head tilt. "maybe later? i need to- uhm. take care of this, really quickly, promise." he rubs the back of his neck like he's cancelling a date. you're still too disoriented to really do anything other than nod, feeling a little shot down, but you get it. the dollar tree version of godzilla is currently terrorizing your city, and you would also like it handled. "are you sure you're alright? you look..." superman trails off like he doesn't want to be rude. you shrug, explaining how you didn't sleep well last night and you haven't necessarily been eating great recently either. you don't know why you confess all this to him, maybe because he's easy to talk to? but it's more than that, he seems familiar in a way that you can't place. he nods like you're confirming what he already knew - you must look worse than you thought. he says something about flying you back down to the first responders below and you try to refuse, but it's hard to overpower a 6-foot brick wall. it's over before you even know it, being scooped up bridal-style and set back on the ground in less than 3 seconds. he makes sure that there's someone there to take care of you before he turns to leave. he lingers, just for a moment, before smiling and waving. then he flies away just as quickly as he showed up. and you realize that you have got to see him again.
editor!reader who makes it safe back home, thanks to the paramedics. eventually, you check your phone and see a million missed calls, both from your friends at work and your family. apparently when clark realized you were heading straight through monster territory, he was out of the office like a man on a mission.
editor!reader who calls him back as soon as possible, assuring him that you're alright and that you're safe. you just watched superman take care of the creature on your tv and excitedly tell him about your rescue attempt. though he sounds slightly embarrassed at the sound of your retelling.
editor!reader who agrees to take the rest of the week off (only a day) and the weekend to recover. clark even comes over and takes your laptop to ensure you don't have the means to write as fast as you normally do. you complain, but he remains unmoved.
editor!reader who also gets a homemade meal out of clark, who makes something with chicken and seasonings an you swear it tastes like comfort in a bowl. almost like home, but you can't place why.
he tells you it's a family recipe, and that his parents always made it for him whenever he was hurt or sick. that explains the oddly calming part of it. you realize the next time clark's on the phone with his ma, you owe her a word of thanks.
editor!reader who has a built in nurse for the night, even though the extent of your injuries is a light bruise on your forehead and the overall fatigue from work. you love your job, but you admit that maybe you've been pushing it a little hard recently. even if it is just to subdue clark a little.
he just mumbles about concussions and the dangers of head trauma while he gets you and icepack.
editor!reader who is curled up in bed after a shower, dressed in comfortable clothes and being pampered like you're in a lot more pain than you actually are.
editor!reader who eventually has to assure (beg) clark that you're fine and to go home and get some actual rest himself, since it's late and his hands begin to shake when he's upright for a little too long. he agrees, barely, but asks you to call him if you need anything.
so, the next morning, you call him just briefly for some company. and to ask if he has anymore recipes to share.
⋆。°✩
editor!reader who turns back up to work on monday, good as new. though clark still won't stop worrying, and won't let you carry anything heavier than a manilla folder and a cup of coffee if he sees you try.
editor!reader who gets about a week of rest and slow paced work before you start worrying about clark again. he's back to being late again, but this time, he's showing up with already-fading bruises.
which wouldn’t be weird, clark’s always been kind of clumsy. but they’re always in different spots than they were the day before. a few on his arm when his shirt sleeves are rolled up, one across his jaw.
you tease him for having a hickey even though the thought makes your stomach churn. he lights up red like a fire engine and vehemently assures you it is not. you try to press, but he dodges.
editor!reader who eventually drops it, but isn’t happy about it. and isn’t sure what to do, or how to help. you don’t mean to, but you begin to freeze up a little when he’s around. you don't think he notices. but he does.
things are the same, but something feels different. you know he’s hiding something from you but there’s not the first clue as to what it is.
you’re trying to figure it out, really, you are. but the days keep going and the work keeps coming and clark keeps getting bruised and you keep finding them.
editor!reader who heads home for the weekend, dejected after the week and the amount of work that’s been landing on your shoulders. and now, you know clark's keeping a secret from you. and you're worried you've done something to make him think he can't tell you. oh god, what if it's a girlfriend?
editor!reader who gets comfortable, just sitting on the couch before getting a text from clark. you debate even opening it, your favorite show up and ready to watch. but your mind won't drop it - it's clark for god's sake - and you open it.
"did you get home safe?" you tell him yes, you did, before he asks if you're busy. admitting your entire weekend will be taken up by trying to distract yourself from clark, to clark, is humiliating. so you tell him you might be, but also ask what's up. you're not going to pass up whatever this might turn into. "could you head up to the roof for me?" hm. well. that's not normal at all, even by odd-clark kent means. you fight with yourself again, briefly. you're in your pajamas already. but curiosity gets the better of you and you agree. because what could he possibly be planning that has to do with the roof of your apartment? you briefly wonder if it's some grand declaration. and then hope that it isn't, because as dramatic as it sounds, you don't think your heart could handle it right now. but you do still go up, against the cold and the slight wind that's started. is it supposed to rain today? you can't remember, and you think you're deluding yourself into some sort of coherent thought or conversation to keep your mind from racing. there's a small boom sound from somewhere far off, the other side of the city you think, before you hear rustling behind you. you can't place it, and frankly, you're a little scared to look. but then it clears it's throat and you turn around, still in your sweatpants. and there's superman. you open and close your mouth like a fish, but the words don't come. your mind works faster than your lips do. you already know. and suddenly everything starts clicking into place. his help with the superman story. superman's concern for you a few days ago. clark's fawning after. the bruises. superman knew your name. "clark, you-" you slap a hand over your mouth like someone else might hear and work it out for themselves also. he lands, nodding and rushing to stand in front of you. gentle hands wrap around your forearms while he tries to calm you down. "i know, i know, i'm sorry-" he looks almost embarrassed at the situation. you look at him, really look at him with the perfect hair and the face without the glasses. it's still clark, you tell yourself. it's still clark. it takes a minute - understandably - but you do calm down. he talks you through everything, his background, his parents, why he's here. to do good for humanity. you can't think of a more clark thing to do. "so- my best friend in the office has been a superhero since when? forever?" you're sitting on a couch, one of the cheap ones your landlord bought to decorate the roof for parties and tenants. clark kind of nods, shrugging a little too. "i learned to fly after walking, so- basically?" he smiles, but it's nervous. he's still trying to gauge your reaction, and you can tell. you sigh again, nodding and leaning against his shoulder. "well. it could be worse- i thought you were hiding a girlfriend from me." you throw it out ever so casually, and he sputters. actually chokes on nothing while trying to think of a response. yup, still your clark. "you wouldn't like me having a girlfriend?" he asks. you look up, seeing he's still red but now adorably smug. ''that's not- i didn't- damnit clark." you turn so your eyes are pressed against his bicep, hiding from him. this isn't how you wanted to tell him, if you ever did. he doesn't say anything, just threads his fingers through yours and laughs. his laugh, that stupid sound that got you from day one. "i know what you meant." and you know that he does.
editor!reader who goes back to the office with a newly found story to write, easily drafting and finishing the first official piece on superman from the daily planet. perry greenlights it almost immediately, satisfied with the work from one of his best employees.
editor!reader who still gets coffee in the mornings, and lunch on days when the work seems to stretch on longer and longer. but it's okay, clark's there to help.
editor!reader who gets teased one day coming into the office, because jimmy saw someone get kissed by superman. he even got a picture of it.
editor!reader who just laughs, even when lois starts to question if it's clark or if it's superman you're seeing.
and you don’t answer. because now technically it's both.
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Ur account is set up so cute I adore it
HALLOO sorry for answering this only now but YAYAYAY i’m so happy you think so it took me so long,,,,, canva is my best friend
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“oh my love, can’t you see yourself by my side?” ⋆。°✩
(james gunn superman) jimmy olsen x fem!reader



"jimmy finally asked the new girl out. let's see is he sticks the landing or if he crashes and burns. i'm rooting for him, though."
so i know i said i wouldn't do a part three. but here we are!! the people requested more and who am i to deny the people? so here's part three jimmy hc!! this for sure is the final part because there's simply other projects i wanna worry about but i did have a lot of fun writing this. cause i love writing male yearning it's great
warnings: a lil swearing cause i fear i do like a sailor, but other than that, nothing crazy!! still a fem!reader with mentions of she/her but the next series i'm working on will be gn!reader and i'm making sure my proofreader is put to work. trust this is her job
back to the setlist | part one & part two
writer!reader who agrees to the date with jimmy, not knowing what to expect exactly. yes, maybe you've anticipated this (as in, thought about it. a lot.) but what exactly is he planning?
writer!reader who still doesn't have a clue up until the day off, getting a text on saturday morning asking for her address. and a clearly nervous rambling that goes about as follows: "and look nice" "i mean you always look nice" "just no sweatpants, please" "ok i'll see you tonight" "im excited" "bye"
writer!reader who gets picked up right on time, jimmy standing on your doorstep with a small bouquet of flowers. he's so corny. but you're smiling anyways.
you're not even ready yet, all half outfit and your hair isn't done either. but you know jimmy doesn't mind. he was just excited to see you.
writer!reader who has so much fun on the date. it's a sit down restaurant, not too fancy but not too casual either. the conversation is easy, the food is actually really good, and jimmy looks actually offended when you offer to split the bill. (you're both on a reporter's salary, god forbid you try and be considerate.)
writer!reader who gets walked home, jimmy on the outside of the sidewalk like you live in gotham and not metropolis. it's just more time to hangout, but you don't mind.
writer!reader who even manages to get a kiss on the doorstep before heading inside and jimmy turns bright red. like he hasn't slept on your couch and nursed you back to health before. it's painfully sweet.
writer!reader who, after the date, is convinced that she and jimmy are hiding their relationship well enough. mostly just because you two act the exact same as you did before, but lois knows something is up. it gets to the point where even clark is starting to tease you.
oh well, let them tease. it's more fun this way.
writer!reader who ends up being jimmy's lock screen multiple times, even when he changes it. it's always a candid picture of you he's managed to snap when you least expect it. you hate it, but he loves it. he's even got his own folder going of you on his laptop. the consequences of dating a photographer, right?
writer!reader who, at this point, is certainly guaranteed first access to all his photos. clark and lois don't mind, and even steve is starting to lay off about it. after more unhelpful comments, that is. but he does stop.
writer!reader who is now apart of some sort of unspoken agreement in the office. so is jimmy. even if you both never come out and say you're together, it doesn't matter. everybody knows you're both off limits.
much to the chagrin of the giggling interns who still look jimmy's way.
it's sweet, in a way. how little things change in the office when you two make things official. you always new it was never going to be a big deal, if it did ever happen. and it did, he wormed his way into your life like he was always meant to fit there. cooking in your kitchen while you prepped the living room for another movie night, or napping beside you on your bed while you finished up your latest article. there was never any grand declaration. just the kiss on your porch and a mutual understanding. you've seen him nearly every day since then, and much to your surprise, you're not tired of him. you don't think you ever will be. you're at your cubicle, now just emailing clients and sources back and forth. jimmy went to go get coffee a few minutes ago, since he's been downing cups like crazy. you're partially responsible since you stayed on the phone late last night. whoopsies. you can hear him talking to someone - barely. his responses are short, and polite. he's not really engaging, and when you turn to see who he's talking to, you realize why. another intern, just like you were. a pretty little thing, all bright eyes and ambition. also just like you. but jimmy looks utterly bored, and when he catches you sneaking a glance, that stupid smug smile is on his face and he waves. ugh. you hate it when he catches you staring. he loves teasing you for it. within seconds, he's back over with his cup refilled and whatever conversation he was pretending to be apart of forgotten. "had to wait for the machine to refill?" you lean over the cubicle wall and look at him. he's still smiling, and it only grows when he watches you move. "mhm. took a lil' too long though." and then he's sliding you your favorite type of gum, the type he keeps in a drawer just for you. you know the conversation's not over, far from it actually - especially with the glint in his eye. but there's a team-wide meeting with perry today that everyone's trying to prepare for to avoid getting their ass busted. so he'll drop it. for now at least.
writer!reader who lets jimmy come over and hangout for the most mundane reasons, doesn't even matter what. your pets are starting to love him.
writer!reader who now has an audience whenever she gets ready. hair, makeup, picking out an outfit. he'll just sit and watch, offer commentary when you ask for it. it's mostly just fascination that you're so damn pretty. it's really not fair, when he thinks about it.
writer!reader who ends up around him so often you're not sure what counts as actual dates or just hanging out. it doesn't really matter anyways, but he does try and take you out somewhere nice every once in a while. lois gives him recommendations.
writer!reader who starts to find little notes left around her flat from when she wasn't paying attention. nothing crazy, just sticky notes scribbled in jimmy's bad handwriting. "see you friday?" "i hope you like the flowers" "i found your baby pictures - adorable"
writer!reader who steals so many of his shirts. like, so many. your closet is now stacked with familiar patterns and minimal designs. plus a couple college shirts he doesn't know you have. and a jacket from when it got crazy cold after work once.
writer!reader who convinces jimmy to let her paint his nails just once. he refuses a couple times, then you call him babe and he folds like a chair.
writer!reader who agrees when he actually officially asks you to be his girlfriend. because, well - it's him. of course you will.
girlfriend!reader who really is stuck now.
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Hi I was wondering if you do character x male reader??
hello and thank yew for the ask! i've only ever written for a fem!reader and have little experience writing for a male!reader (actually none at all) - i'm working on more gn! types of fics but if i ever do write for male!reader it'll be in the distant future when i'm more confident and in the meantime my proofreader can keep me from making a fool of myself <3
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"said, 'c'mon superman, say your stupid line!'" ⋆。°✩
(james gunn superman) jimmy olsen x fem!reader



“well, the intern’s not really an intern anymore. and jimmy’s acting…at least slightly more normal.”
hai!! okay so one i wanna say thank you to all the well wishes on my first post, 100 notes is more than i could’ve ever dreamed of and i’m kissing you all on the forehead rn i’m actually crying thank you. in the spirit of not being a corny mess i’ll move on but know i'm giggling. here is part two to the original jimmy hc post!! this one is longer and i hope you enjoy. this will probably be the last part to this series specifically but don’t worry!! there’s LOTS more in the making hehehehe
i just want to reiterate how much i appreciate you all. seriously. i hope you like this and whatever else i have cooking up :’)
warnings: another fem!reader i’m sorry y’all i promise gn!reader will happen at some point i’m just bad about hyper focusing on specifics and that’s hard to do and still make something vague enough to be gn! i’ll make it up to y’all eventually. otherwise there’s swearing/mentions of drinking and feeling ill (but like as in a cold). also 2nd POV!
back to the setlist | part one & part three
writer!reader who has been working at the daily planet for a few months now, and at least at this point, jimmy can hold a conversation like a normal person. his jokes are even landing. becoming actual friends was not apart of the plan, but you don't mind.
writer!reader who has a built in proof reader, even when lois is busy. she always has time for her favorite ex-intern, but this other luthorcorp scandal really needs addressing and- it's fine. jimmy's here to help.
writer!reader who also helps with his articles, even though most of the time they don't really need correcting. but it's nice to hangout.
writer!reader who gets another cup of coffee made without even having to ask, just cause he noticed and was "on the way." (he was not. he was bored and wanted attention) either that, or he'll say it's payback for when you got him coffee - which was a week ago.
writer!reader who didn't expect all this considering how jimmy used to be. turns out the rumors weren't really true at all, even now when he’s gotten comfortable. he wasn't some womanizing mastermind, just a guy with some inexplicable pull to him.
you hated to admit that it was accurate, and you hated that someone had felt the need to whisper the things about him in the first place. how could the guy who got you breakfast most days and lent you pain killers when you had a headache be some conniving genius?
you watched him spill coffee on himself two days ago when he hadn't slept right. and then there was that time with the umbrella.
how many times is the metropolis weather man allowed to be wrong before they just fire the damn guy? you're contemplating the answer as you stare out the giant windows revealing the outside world to the daily planet office. heavy, fat droplets of water pour down in sheets and pummel the street below. you let out a sigh. not only are you wearing both new shoes and new slacks, you also have no umbrella. it's not really your fault. the weather man's been wrong twice in the past month, and when he's the expert, you believe him when he says it's going to be sunny all day. which is ridiculous, you think, when the city has the funds to turn people into superheroes - but apparently can't afford proper forecasting instruments. forget proper technology, you have a resident metahuman to fly up and check out the clouds himself. there is no reason to be stuck in this situation. lois and clark are content to simply camp out and wait for the bad weather to end, but you had plans tonight. that's why you dressed up in the first place, you're meant to get dinner with some friends after work. and the idea of showing up looking like a wet rat doesn't really appeal to you right now. especially not when your hair and makeup came out so good today. plus you're not sure which of your jewelry will tarnish or not, and you don't exactly want to find out the hard way either. jimmy notices - because of course he does. and before you can even blink he's offering his umbrella to you. he's also ready to go, all of his things packed up in the messenger bag slung onto his shoulder. he looks good today, and it really would suck to see his outfit ruined also. but he hasn't even said anything, he just extends his hand out further when you don't take it at first. "...you don't need it?" you're eyeing it skeptically, like it might be a weapon somehow. jimmy shakes his head, dropping his arm when you accept it wearily. "nope. my subway stop is like - half a block from here, i'll be fine. you said you have plans." he shrugs. you mentioned those plans four days ago and haven't said anything since. and you know for a fact the subway entrance is farther than that. "i owe you, jimmy. like- crazy bad, you're the best." you're smiling, all giddy now and giving him a quick side hug before you can talk yourself out of it. "i'll see you tomorrow!" you tear off to the elevator, leaving him smiling by your desk like an idiot and leaving you giddy and breathless. not really from the running, though.
writer!reader who's starting to dress up more for work now but won't even tell lois why. (and jimmy is getting increasingly more smug about it whenever the rest of them theorize. clark suggests a more positive mindset, bless his heart.)
writer!reader who gets first dibs on nearly all of jimmy's pictures. some of them are front page material even without your accompanying article, but he'll barely even glance at them again if you wave him off. off to the folder they go.
you do eventually take him up on the offer, since the refusal before was just common politeness. and the pieces end up only second to more of clark's superman front-pagers. you're starting to think he's dating the guy or something. how else is he getting all of these interviews when literally no one else can?
writer!reader who has jimmy by her side the second a meeting goes anything other than great just in case it sucks more than you let on. (it does kind of burn when the group as a collective is getting hounded by perry, but you're getting used to it.)
writer!reader who agrees to go out with the gang™ after clark gets another front page article at work, and thankfully it's a friday night and nothing else is going on. whatever other leads you have can wait til monday.
writer!reader who ends up talking with jimmy the whole night, just sitting there and sharing stories while clark and lois giggle. you're not sure why they are, but jimmy can tell that it isn't their normal flirting-giggle. they're plotting.
writer!reader who does the job for them before they even have a plan and maybe has a smidge too much to drink, and once clark disappears off coincidentally when a bog monster starts terrorizing city square the night is essentially over.
writer!reader who wakes up to a thumbs up text from lois and jimmy NOT in her bed (like the gentleman he is), but trying to make her breakfast cause he slept on the couch when you complained about not feeling well.
which has carried over through the night, because this is not normal hangover pain.
when your eyes first open, the house smells like slightly burnt sugar and fruit. you try and move, but it feels like someone's shoved a pound of cotton into your head through your nose. your throat hurts also, and you think this might be the worst combination to get after a night of drinking. you must make a noise or something, since in two seconds jimmy's standing in your doorway and his hands are still damp and smell like your dish soap. "hey, you feeling any better? you were, uh. out of it last night." he winces a little like he already knows the answer to his question, patting his hands off on his shorts. you don't remember taking off your makeup, but there is a vague memory of you changing clothes. which tracks since you're in your pajamas from the night before last. you probably look great right now, all snot-nosed and messy hair. "i don't think i'm just hungover anymore." the sound of your own voice is both nasally and scratchy, and all jimmy does is nod like he understands. "right, right. makes sense. you go back to bed, i'll take care of it." he motions back to your kitchen, possibly on fire, but you don't really care. gravity is your enemy right now, and even sitting up for this long makes your back ache. "why are colds always the worst in this stupid city." you groan as you lay back down, and the last thing you hear is him laughing quietly and leaving your door cracked. when you wake up next, it's to the sound of your front door closing. you don't know how long you've been out for, but the sun has clearly shifted behind your blinds. you're confused until you remember jimmy was here, but now you're sure he's just left. it sucks more than you thought it would. until you hear someone trying to kick off their shoes and the rustling of plastic bags. plus the distinct sound of your microwaving opening and the awkward clinking of bowls and silverware. just what is he doing in there? and then there he is again a few minutes later, standing in your door. he's got something in a bowl, plus a bottle of water tucked in his hand. he sets everything down and tries to help you sit up (as you wave him off and insist you can do it) before handing everything to you and sitting beside your bed. his back is to you, and he doesn't say much. just glances over from his laptop, left on your floor when he ran out, and makes sure you're eating every once in a while. you realize he's alternating between editing an article of his own and reading clark's latest on superman and metahumans in general. when you're finished, he moves to grab the bowl and take everything back to the kitchen. "hey jimmy?" you're settling back down and call to him before he makes it out the door. "yeah?" he stops immediately, ready to help like this is his job now. he's oddly okay with it, he wouldn't have stayed if he wasn't. you're oddly okay with it too. "can you get me some of th' cold medicine? the strong stu-" you start to explain and he cuts you off with a nod and a small smile. "i got some at the convenience store. i can go grab it." he shifts awkwardly on his feet like he didn't just tell you he's the nicest guy you've ever been involved with. "how'd you know that's th' kind i get?" you're borderline asleep at this point, a warm meal helping to soothe the ache in your body as your face is half smashed into your pillow. "saw it in the cabinet." he shrugs like it's obvious. "well-" you fight to sit up. "then how come you bought more if i've got some?" "cause i didn't want you running out. duh."
writer!reader who buys a new wearable strap for his camera as a thank you, even though he looks like he might combust when he opens it. half of it is from lois teasing, the other half is that you did it in the first place.
writer!reader who, now, really doesn't like missing work. "i don't wanna fall behind," except that's just what you tell people.
writer!reader who starts staying late with jimmy just to have a second to exist in together, even if you don't talk much. the silence feels like something to shatter, and it's nice to just know he's there. living, helping, exisiting.
writer!reader who is guaranteed a spot next to him at meetings at this point, even if it's just the core four of you catching up on the latest damage to downtown metropolis and sharing superman theories.
writer!reader who is the last one to know about jimmy's plans to ask her out, considering he went to both lois and clark for ideas and advice first.
writer!reader who says yes, because who can say no to jimmy olsen?
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"i was doing fine without you, til i saw your face" ⋆。°✩
(james gunn superman) jimmy olsen x fem!reader



“somebody new is floating around the office, and a certain photographer is going a liiiittle crazy.”
hi!! so this is my first piece of writing to be posted on this app (i am so scared rn). i'm sure it's random as hell, but i also have a lot of mha stuff in the works currently as well as a clark version and a clark series! plus however many more ideas pop into my crumpled receipt of a brain. so if you might like any of that!! maybe stick around!!
i had to write for him, jimmy olsen fans deserve food too and skyler gisondo is CRAZY attractive in the movie. idk what he has going on but it’s working and i fell victim to it
warnings: reader is referred to as "she" / new girl. also 2nd person pov. and swearing. promise to really try and write a gn!reader one next this was done on a whim :)
back to the setlist | part two & part three
intern!reader who applies at the daily planet cause she's determined to be apart of something good in metropolis.
intern!reader who, on her first day of the job, gets into a fight with steve lombard when he says something backhanded to lois. and as her intern, how can you let that slide?
intern!reader who is given the nickname "sparky" and immediately becomes an office favorite amongst a majority of the floor. even the doorman has extra things to say.
intern!reader who has caught a certain photographer's attention and literally has no idea at first.
intern!reader who is the reason he got rid of "the photo" on his desk and replaced it with one of his most impressive shots as a conversation starter. it only kind of works.
intern!reader who has to sit through jimmy absolutely fumbling the first few conversations because he's incapable of being normal and is incredibly relieved when you don't catch on. or when he overhears you and lois talking about him later.
jimmy was going to kick himself after his shift was over. he couldn't hold a normal goddamn conversation with the new girl for more than two minutes before his brain started leaking out of his ears. at this rate, he'll be lucky if she even decides to take the job offering. which, of course she'll get one. she's brilliant. he knows he's made a fool of himself, since now he can hear you and lois discussing him from over by his coworker's desk. he knows you're talking about him, since this impromtu trip to the coffee machine was a thinly veiled escape to get away from his own words. another chance at conversation, and he's blowing it with corny jokes and rambling about as bad as clark does. he was never, ever like this. he had to get a grip or he was going to consider quitting. the sound of your laugh brought him back out of his head. he thinks the sound alone was enough to kill him. "so, making friends already, huh?" he could practically feel lois burning a hole into the back of his head as she spoke and he tried to look busy. damn her and her observant nature, she had probably clocked what jimmy was trying (and failing) to do ages ago. you didn't answer at first, and jimmy was damn near ready to just walk out the door and take the elevator down into oncoming traffic, laptop and camera be damned. he could buy another at his new job. "well, y'know." he heard you laugh again and swore his face was nearly the same shade as his hair. "everyone's so nice, even if..." you trailed off. shit. "even if someone keeps accidentally mentioning his camera settings?" lois offered. he could hear your smile from all the way over here. "mhm. but it's nice, y'know? to have someone try."
intern!reader who is so excited to work on her first big piece after weeks of nothing crazy happening.
intern!reader who has no idea that clark was this close to offering her an interview with superman, or even just some community serivce - because he was starting to feel bad.
intern!reader who is assigned to work with jimmy as a team to investigate luthorcorp's upcoming press conference after yet another humanitarian scandal.
intern!reader who has the time of her life working with jimmy and secretly starts to hope that they'll get assigned together again soon, but won't admit it or ask for it because of his reputation in the office.
and she knows at this point, given the way some of her peers giggle and wave when he so much as looks at them for too long. she hasn't decided if she wants to really listen to whispers or not just yet. not when he smiles so sweet and is always getting her coffee and hanging around her desk.
intern!reader who gets praise for her first article being so compelling. she even gets a half-smile from perry over it and that seals her fate.
writer!reader who, at this point, is definitely sticking around - attractive photographers or not.
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