#she has the clark kent glasses disguise down

[cybernecromancer365]

I think Stephanie March would make a good Superwoman.

[chocolatespringonion]

This onion has only a couple of minutes to spare so this will probably be a short one.

The premise would be the Clark Kent effect.

Homelander has had a rough day and needed a time off from The Seven, from Vought. He never really did it often, only after Maeve's comment "Wearing glasses is the best disguise you can use against the mass," Homelander did try.

Miraculously it did work and not a single person has asked him for even a single picture.

With this newfound knowledge, he sometimes sneaks off for a drink to blow off some steam, no one to watch him, nothing that he does will affect his rating, just peace and quiet for the evening.

Today was such day, he brought out his civilian clothes, wore a cap and glasses and he ordered whatever strongest drink the bar had. He had just finished a glass when he heard a new patron enter the bar, his ear immediately perked when he heard the new customer sat beside him.

Homelander thought the guy would order and leave but he stayed. Out of curiosity, he looked at the man beside him. Colour him surprised, it was Campbell, Hughie Campbell. The same Hughie who would turn into a nervous wreck whenever Homelander was near and the one and only Butcher's number 1 loyal puppy.

Hughie smiled when he saw Homelander watching him, "Hey, can I get you a drink?"

If Homelander could, he would've fallen off the chair. Thankfully almost nothing could break is composure.

Seeing the blonde's lack of response, Hughie became more nervous than before, "I-I just saw you from across the bar and—You seem like a good guy."

Homelander internally frowns at the word good guy, that's the opposite of what the normal Campbell would say to him. But still if this is his attempt at flirting how in the world did he get Starlight to fall for him.

"I'm Hughie. Can I get your name?" The taller of the two pulled out his hand for the blonde to shake but his determination faltered when Homelander left him hanging.

Homelander stilled for a while, confused why Campbell was asking for his name until he remembered he was in disguise. He didn't expect mere glasses would change his appearance so much that one of the people who persistently try to take him down unable to recognize him.

With Hughie's kicked puppy appearance, Homelander decides to entertain the younger man, "John."

The moment Homelander said his name, Hughie Campbell fucking glowed. As if he became the happiest man alive by simply hearing John's name.

Afterwards Hughie became chatty the entire night. Homelander had expected himself to ran out of patience halfway but he unconsciously engaged with the younger man and even lost track of time.

Drinking the last glass for the night, Homelander was about to leave. Hughie seems to notice this and pulled gently on the blonde's jacket, "L-Look, I know it's only been a few hours but I really like you. It's just– the moment I saw you, you were everything I want and more. Sorry, it's a cheesy way to say you're my type."

He figured that Hughie was actively flirting with him the entire night, at first he enjoyed the irony but then he really liked the time they spent together.

"Can I see you again?"

Again with the puppy dog eyes. No wonder Starlight didn't mind spending a fortune to give this guy the Believe Expo pass. Homelander scoffed how much of a simp she was towards Hughie.

"Tomorrow, eight pm." He is not doing this because he is interested nor did he fall for the Campbell boy, he is simply doing this to enjoy the look on the boy's face when he suddenly found out he was pursuing the person he has been trying to take down. It's different.

With that, Homelander left the bar and went back to the tower leaving a lovestruck Hughie that's still watching the closed door where he left from.

__________________

A few hours earlier:

Hughie laid his head flat on the table, tired and still saddened by yesterday's event. Annie had told him, she needed space and they should break up while explicitly said they are still friends despite their separation.

The other's, especially Butcher seemed irritated by his pity party and evicted him from their base until he finally got over his breakup. He had no where to go and it was cold outside so he decided to go to the nearest bar.

When he entered and saw the most gorgeous man he had ever seen, sitting alone by the bar table, an empty glass in front of him, despite the thick glasses Hughie could see how blue the blonde's eyes was. Frankly speaking, He was matching Hughie's type to a T.

He shouldn't let this opportunity pass him by, so he went and sat beside the blonde and immediately felt giddy when the other's eyes finally fall onto him.

"Hey, can I get you a drink?"

________________________

A few weeks later:

Butcher: The flying cunt's acting weird.

Kimiko: *types on her phone* What do you mean?

Butcher: Can't put my finger on it, but you noticed him looking at Hughie strangely?

Kimiko: *shakes head and typed* I'm more worried about Hughie, he's been sneaking off at night.

Butcher: He seemed fine to me.

Kimiko: *rolled her eyes and left*

[tickletastic]

Bruce is Not Here Right Now, Leave a Message?

Fandom: DC Comics

Ship: Clark/Bruce

Warnings: Mentions/hints of suggestive acts

Summary: Clark will never get sick of seeing the juxtaposition between Bruce and Brucie. It's almost impossible to think that his sleep deprived, coffee addicted, moody boyfriend can go to a playboy flirt in only an hour's time. Day five of Miya and Mia's Tickletober: disguises!

“Your ass looks great in those pants,” Bruce whispers under his breath, watching Clark’s cheeks turn pink across the room. The reporter turns away from his conversation for a moment to send him a disapproving look. 

“Mr. Wayne,” a voice from Bruce’s left calls, he turns his head quickly, charming playboy smile on his face. 

“Why hello,” Bruce says, voice gravelly, “I’m glad you could make it to the gala, Niecy. These galas could always use some more fresh, talented reporters.”

Niecy’s cheeks turn a dusty pink, and she reaches her hand out to shake Bruce’s. “Thank you for the invite, Mr. Wayne. What’s Going in Gotham hasn’t gotten many invitations so far, it can be pretty difficult for new websites these days.” Her smile twists into something playfully sinister, her eyes darting to something behind Bruce. “Speaking of the news, the word on the beat has been that you, Mr. Wayne,” she points a wobbly finger at him, and Bruce takes note that she had been enjoying the free champagne, “have been dating one of us.” She ends with another unstable point towards herself, looking pleased.

Bruce laughs, not his natural one, but the one he adopted for the moments when he had to be Brucie instead of just Bruce. “Now Niecy,” he starts, lowering his voice, “what do you mean by that?”

“Reporters talk, you know, and some of them have mentioned seeing you with a certain blue-eyed star as of late.” Niecy tips her head down a little, looking up at Bruce from above her glasses.

“I’ve been seen around with a blue-eyed hunk?” Bruce asks, perking up, “which one?” He winks in her direction, and she looks away to avoid another blush. 

“So you’re saying there’s more than just Clark Kent?” Niecy asks, cutting straight to the chase. 

“Oh Bruce and I?” A new voice asks, Clark throwing his arm around Bruce’s shoulder. “We’re just great friends, I don’t know if I could be with such a heartbreaker.”

Bruce laughs, nodding his head along with Clark. He makes a show of leaning upwards– he’d say later that he barely even had to adjust his height, claim that he’s just as tall as Clark– and placing a loud kiss on Clark’s cheek. “I’m not sure Mr. Southern Hospitality would like the limelight so much.” 

Bruce leans forward, not jostling Clark’s arms too much, but making sure he can stage-whisper to Niecy, “That’s not to say I wouldn’t, though.”

Niecy laughs at the spectacle, her eyes showing that she is intent to learn more, somewhat disbelieving of the two men in front of her. “Never say never, Mr. Wayne,” she says with a wink. Her eyes follow a tray of champagne as it passes them, and she has to play it casual for a second, looking around the room, “well, I’ve got to go, but it was nice to get acquainted with the two of you. Thank you again for the invitation, Mr. Wayne.”

Niecy leaves to not-so-subtly trail the waiter with the champaign, and Clark and Bruce watch as her face lights up when another waiter passes with hors d’œrves. 

“That was,” Bruce begins before being cut off by Clark. 

“The funniest thing I’ve seen in weeks,” Clark says, grinning smugly at Bruce. 

“Shut up, Clark,” Bruce sighs, looking across the room. Dick and Tim are chatting with some investors, Jason had once explained that Dick plays the part of the charmer and Tim plays the part of the genius: either way, Bruce knows that it always works. Damian is surrounded by a group of adults– one of them being Selina, of course, who makes sure things are alright when Bruce is playing Brucie– all of them looking incredibly impressed with him. Jason was not in attendance of course, because he is legally dead, and Steph, Cass, and Duke had decided to stay with him and have a movie night. 

When Bruce has finished his quick survey of the room, a silly headcount like he’s some counselor at a daycamp for toddlers, he leans in closer to Clark, lips nearly brushing his ear, “want to get out of here?” 

Clark’s face heats up, Bruce can feel his body heat radiating off, and the reporter is nodding rapidly, eyes wide. 

“Meet me in the bedroom in ten minutes,” Bruce whispers, and then he’s off, grabbing a champagne glass as he effortlessly passes through the sea of guests, saying hello to all that he passes, stopping to say some quick words with others. Clark knows he should look away, given what Niecy had just said to Bruce, he probably shouldn’t be watching the billionaire’s ass as he saunters out of the ballroom… or at least not so obviously. 

When Clark makes it upstairs, having been practically vibrating with excitement the entire time, Bruce is just in his boxers. Clark knew he would be, in part because he knows his boyfriend, but also because he couldn’t stop himself from listening, but with how slowly Bruce had undressed, Clark knew that Bruce had known.

Clark shuts the door and quickly crowds Bruce on the bed, pinning him down. He strokes his hands up Bruce’s forearms down to his wrists, just holding them with a loose grip. He leans in for a kiss, murmuring something against Bruce’s lips about having to wait through the entire gala. 

He eventually pulls away so Bruce can catch his breath, smiling down at him. His cheeks are red and his hair is a mess, his eyes closed as he hums in appreciation. 

Clark moves his hands up quickly from Bruce’s wrists to his tummy, fingers scratching in circles and webbing out to tickle every part he can at once. Bruce snorts, throwing his head back with laughter. He protests, kicking his legs out, begging his boyfriend to stop.

“Stop so soon? I’ve been hearing Brucie laugh all night, I think it’s time to hear Bruce, too.”

[bluejaysandblackbats]

In The Soup

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam

Summary: Jason Lives AU where he and Superboy become friends, despite Bruce's disapproval of Superboy. (ft. Jason's service dog, Gromit)

Chapters: 11/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Conner Kent, Roxy Leech, Rex Leech

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Conner Kent is Superboy, Good Friend Jason Todd, Protective Jason Todd, Overprotective Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Disabled Characters, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Developing Friendships, Sneaking Around, Disguise, Fluff and Humor, Secret Messages, Hiding in Plain Sight

Chapter Eleven: Second Burger

Jason ate his sandwich, frowning as he thought about what he’d say to Conner. “Hey? Conner?” Jason whispered. 

Conner smiled as he ate his sandwich. “What’s up?” Conner questioned. 

“Do you know why your powers don’t put off Barbara and me?” Jason asked. Conner opened a bag of chips and stared at Jason, studying his expression as he searched for an answer. 

“I figured Gotham was weird like that… Why? Are you telling me that you wanted—?”

“I don’t want anything… That’s not it. I was a bit of a vigilante before my accident,” Jason confessed, “But now—. Now, I’m—.” 

“Jason, why are you telling me this? It’s not like it changes anything,” Conner smiled, “We’re still friends… Aren’t we?” 

Jason grinned. “Yeah. Are you sure you’re not mad?” Jason asked. Conner nodded. 

“But tell me one thing… Clarke with an ‘e’? That was on purpose. Wasn’t it?” Conner asked. Jason chuckled, nodding as he finished his lunch. Conner stared at Jason for a while before he started laughing. “And who is Barbara?” 

“A friend of the family… She used to date my brother. That’s all,” Jason lied. 

“None of my business,” Conner replied, “Jason, can you tell me something?” 

“Sure,” Jason answered.

“Your accident wasn’t an accident, was it?” Conner questioned. Jason shook his head. “I’m glad you lived. And I’m glad we met.” 

“If we didn’t, you’d probably have a girlfriend or a big friend group by now—.” 

“Funny of you to think you’re the one keeping me from having a girlfriend. I can do that all by myself,” Conner half-joked, “Speaking of girlfriends… Why don’t you have one?” 

“I go to a private school where everyone thinks I’m a freak. I might’ve had a shot if I went to a school with kids who are used to seeing real people. A lot of people in this part of Gotham tend to live in a bubble,” Jason replied, “But I don’t mind. Not everyone here thinks like that, but it’s hard to sift through all the ones that do. I don't have the time or desire to dig for the o” Jason took his glasses off and cleaned them before glancing down at Gromit, who lay patiently at his side. “Gromit, how are we doing?” Jason asked after he finished eating. He scratched behind Gromit’s ears. “I love you, sweet boy.” 

**

Conner dozed off during history, and Jason nudged him. When Conner looked beside himself, Jason was half asleep, too. He sipped water to stay awake. “Do you have notes—?” Jason nodded at him. 

The lights came on and the class winced. “Now that I know you’re all awake—.” Jason raised a bathroom pass up. “Yes.” 

“What’s that?” Conner asked. 

“I’ll be right back. Make sure the lecture keeps recording,” Jason whispered. Conner sat up straight, watching as Jason left with Gromit. 

He took notes while he waited for Jason to return. Several minutes passed before Jason returned, holding onto Gromit’s handle for support. Conner turned toward Jason. “Are you alright?” Conner asked. 

“I thought I was gonna throw up… I’m fine now, though,” Jason whispered. Conner could look at Jason and tell he was lying. His face carried a thin sheen of sweat, and he looked pale… Almost green. He had a wet stain on his shirt, and he smelled funny. Conner nodded, trying to give Jason the benefit of the doubt. The class came to an end soon after, and Jason almost made it to the parking lot before Gromit alerted him with two barks. Jason stopped and threw up in the bushes. 

“What do two barks mean?” Conner asked. “Jason?” 

No answer. He tried to run toward the street, and Conner grabbed him. Conner turned to Gromit while he held onto Jason’s backpack and started digging through the small bag on Gromit’s back. “Two barks for a seizure?” Conner questioned. Jason waved his hands in front of his face. Conner pulled another sheet out of Gromit’s pack and pulled Jason down to a seated position while he read Jason’s seizure action plan sheet. “Hey… Shhh…” 

Gromit pulled Conner in by his pants leg. “Okay. Okay, give me his phone. I’ll call Barbara,” Conner replied. He took Jason’s phone from his jacket pocket and called Barbara. 

“Jason? Do you need me to come and get you?” Barbara asked. 

“Yeah, I think he does. Gromit barked twice, and Jason’s—.” 

“I’m on my way right now,” Barbara replied. 

**

Conner sat on the ground while Jason slept on Conner’s leg. Jason was so exhausted that he couldn’t talk afterward, and he was distraught and confused. Barbara pulled up after the other kids started to clear out, and Conner carried him to the car. “Has this ever happened before?” Conner asked as he buckled Jason in. 

“It doesn’t happen a lot… How was he after?” Barbara asked. 

“Tired. He couldn’t talk… So, he just sat down with me and went to sleep,” Conner whispered. Gromit rested his head on Jason’s lap. “Is he gonna be okay?” 

“He’s okay. Let him get some sleep. He’ll be fine,” Barbara replied, “How was your first day as a normal kid?” 

“It was a snooze, but I could get used to it. Listen, I have to do something after you drop him off, but I’ll be back after. Can you tell him I’ll be back to do homework?” Conner asked. Barbara made a soft noise. 

**

“What’s with you lately? You used to be all about this hero stuff,” Rex complained. 

“I’ve got homework,” Conner replied, “If anything needs saving, I will be there… But I’ve got school tomorrow, and I’m doing my best to keep the government off your back about the child labor stuff.” 

Rex paused. “Okay… You’ve got a point there,” Rex whispered, “Do you think your friend might be interested in coming here after school sometimes?” 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Conner replied. “I’ll ask him, though. See you later, Rex.”

“Bye, Kid,” Roxy waved as she looked up from painting her toes on the coffee table. 

“Catch you later, Roxy,” Conner replied in a sing-song voice, waggling his head playfully as he wiggled his fingers. 

He flew to the Clocktower to meet up with Jason, and Barbara let him in. Jason sat on the floor, eating what looked like his second burger. “Saved something for me?” Conner asked. Jason held up the bag, still eating as Conner took the bag and joined him. “ Can you breathe? ” 

Jason grunted in reply before taking a sip of his milkshake. “Starving… Thanks for calling Barbara and not 9-1-1,” Jason panted before taking another bite out of his burger. The pickles fell from his sandwich, and Jason scooped them up between his knuckles.

Conner started on his burger. “Are you always this hungry after?” Conner asked. 

“Mhm… Nobody tells me anything, so—.” Jason finished the last bite and started on his fries. “I don’t know how bad it is. Focal something-whatever. I’d be able to tell you if I could form a thought.” Jason laughed. 

“You just puked and tried to run into traffic… Then you started waving your hands in front of your face,” Conner replied. 

“Oh, well… Okay,” Jason replied, “Does it look crazy?”

“Not really. It just looked like you were really upset,” Conner answered, “ Can I bum a fry? ” 

Jason stuck his tongue out at Conner before taking another sip of his milkshake. “I’m about to start on yours if you don’t take a sip,” Jason replied. Conner chuckled before realizing Jason was serious. He gave Jason his milkshake. “Thanks. You can order another one off my phone.” Conner shook his head. 

“I’m good. Do you want me to stay the night?” Conner asked. 

Jason shook his head. “It’s a school night, and I don’t know if I’ll be at school tomorrow. No reason for you to miss class, though,” Jason replied.

[rihon-scribe-some-writer-guy]

I’m not a hard core Superman Fan. I only have a adequate amount of knowledge to understand enough to pull up a piece of media and not ask annoying questions about what’s going on. Superman is OP. His kryptonian birth name is Kal-El. The original story was an allegory of the struggles of an immigrant living in a strange world. Kryptonite is a elementally impossible substance that acts as reverse photosynthesis.

Anyways, it seems that there’s a new series in which Lois Lane jumped off a building in order to prove that Clark Kent and Superman were one in the same in its fifth episode. It has caused some fuss within the fan base. Half believe that Lois shouldn’t have taken drastic measures, while the other half believes her actions were justified.

My take: Both sides kinda have their points.

Originally I thought that Lois throwing herself off a skyscraper was irrational and manipulative. I feel like she didn’t have to resort to jumping off a building to prove Clark Kent = Superman. One of Lois Lane’s positive qualities should be her intelligence. Maybe she could have swiped Clark’s glasses and realized that they’re non-prescription. Maybe she could have taken a fingerprint sample of Superman and Clark. Maybe she could disguise herself as Wonder Woman and have a heart to heart conversation with Superman about his alter ego. There’s multiple alternative scenarios that would allow Lois to prove the truth in a way that showed that she was smart and resourceful without causing the person who she was considering to be in a relationship to divulge information about themselves that they weren’t ready to do. Considering that said information was something that Clark believed that she would exploit for her own benefits, I get why some individuals don’t like this episode.

Meanwhile, I also understand the argument that Lois was making. Clark was keeping a secret from someone who he was developing a relationship with. Lois was hurt because Clark couldn’t trust her in the same degree that she trusted him.

Part of the problem is that the story of Superman is struggling to adapt to the 2020’s. When Clark decided to take a career as a journalist, it kinda made sense in the 1930’s because it was a job that allowed the employees to leave their desk for hours. As long as Clark turned in an assignment, he could Superman to his hearts content. The Daily Bugle also gave him access to the current news which allowed him to stay on top of crimes. Now that the new series is set relatively in the present, all this starts to make less sense. We have work from home jobs and breaking news reports coming at us through the speed of internet now. Clark doesn’t have to work for the paper whose Pulitzer Prize winner reporter is trying to out the identity of Superman. In this why, the whole unhealthy relationship can be avoided.

Yeah, it’s my opinion that Clark’s and Lois’ relationship is unhealthy. Each one of them is expecting something from the other person. Lois wants the truth over care while Clark wants care over truth. Their lack to compromise led to Lois threatening suicide and then breaking off further relational development once she confirmed the truth, which probably was the most damage that anyone could inflict on the man of steel. Clark isn’t ready for a relationship as well since he is not willing to let Lois know his full story. Both of them hold certain ideals too high.

Now while I personally don’t enjoy how the plot has developed, I’m hesitant to condemn the writers because I don’t see where they are taking the story down the road. I recall when the comic writers ones wrote about Superman denouncing his American citizenship. When they faced major backlash because such a choice went against Superman’s ideals of fighting for the American Way, they stop pursuing that story and simply went into the next as if both happened. I found that more disappointing because there was justification for Superman’s choice. So while I am not thrilled in the manner of how the new series set Lois realization of Superman’s identity, I would be interested to see how they explore this imperfect relationship and attempt to resolve it to a reasonable conclusion.

[hollow-keys]

Diana and Clark for the character bingo (bc you said they were on your mind)

I mean, they were on my mind but I have the attention span of a *remembers goldfish can actually remember things for months* me.

Anyway, on it boss 🫡

Clark

People in the 30's were so right to get attached to him I really love him. I relate to his feeling of alienation and his self consciousness a lot which has led to some. Projecting. A lot of people are wrong about him (by virtue of being so popular) but not enough to tick the everyone is wrong about them box.

Of course there's the "Superman should be dark" Zack Synder crowd and whatever the fuck Injustice is but there's also people who make him too clean and perfect or overemphasise his niceness IMO. My view of him probably comes from reading older comics (especially golden age) where he's a bit rougher and I like that side of him. Like his original tagline was "Champion of the Oppressed" he forced a war profiteer to enlist to teach him a lesson, he trapped a mining company owner (and his party guests) in a mine so he would make his mines safer, he tore down a slum to force the government to rebuild it with better materials all within his first few issues in Action Comics. And this characterization wasn't entirely in those early issues, like later on in DC presents #28 where he fucking. Gives Mongul (unfortunate name)* a brain hemorrhage (it was the only way he could think of to defeat him). Or in The Death of Superman where he kills Doomsday without umming and ahhing over whether or not it's sentient. He's like Diana in that he won't kill most of the time and tries to understand others but he's not a hardline "no kill" guy.

*Elaborating on that but giving a character who is both a villain and has yellowy coloured skin a name that's one letter off of a real Asian ethnicity is uhh... unfortunate ignorance at best and purposefully racist at worst. Mongul. Mongol. They're not even pronounced differently.

*Abrupt segue* Anyway, back to Superman. His meaner and more overtly leftist side frequently gets watered down so he gets characterised as a "hug it out" liberal. I won't say this is a mischaracterisation because there's no one Superman, but it's not my fave.

There's also a lot of discourse about who the real guy is. Is he Kal, Clark or Superman? So you get the shitty take in Kill Bill that calls Clark Kent his critique of humanity (what?) or the Byrne take where Kal doesn't matter.

In my view, he's all of it. He grew up an anomaly, worried he could crush his peers without a thought, constantly having to control himself. Of course he's clumsy because he's spending so much time reigning in 99% of his power, he doesn't have brainspace to think about minutiae. Of course he's anxious because one wrong move could kill somebody. When he's Superman a lot of his brainspace gets freed up because he doesn't have to hide so he's more confident. His heritage does matter because all immigrants, or even descendants of them like me, feel a connection with their heritage, and for someone who never got to know it in the way he should have, he feels a longing for it.

He idealises Krypton and is forced to recon with the flawed reality of it later when he talks to Kara about what it was actually like, which I found a bit relatable because I would idealise Ireland as a child and only really took the rose coloured glasses off later on (which sounds stupid but I was a child and it was really easy to feel like Ireland would be more of a home for me when I didn't fit in in England and my Irish mother accepted me. I extrapolated).

None of it is fake, which is out of line with golden age Clark being non-confrontational and making himself small as part of his disguise, but I don't treat any era as gospel. So yeah, I have a lot of autistic feelings about him.

Umm. I didn't intend for this to be so long I just got rambling about various Clark thoughts that have been buried somewhere in my head for a while.

Diana

She may not be your fave of all time but she's still going in the blorbo by proxy category because you're a fan. On to my actual thoughts about her.

A lot of my feelings about her are mired in my thoughts on her treatment as the only female member of the trinity and how the amazons are treated/written in general rather than solely being about her because in a lot of ways she's symbolic of DC's treatment of women.

WRT the trinity, she's the only member without a secondary title (she used to have Sensation Comics a long time ago) and her potentially much more interesting dynamic with Clark is shoved aside in favour if Clark + Batman. The trinity really feels like it's BATMAN!!! Superman also! and uh *checks smudged handwriting* Wobner Woman.

WRT her she's frequently sexualised, almost always written by privileged men, her supporting characters get nothing (the first non-Diana wonderfam related ongoing was Wonder Girl in 2021 and only lasted 7 issues), her lore gets retconned with much less hastle than Batman or Superman's and her series numbering keeps getting rebooted*

*This may seem like a petty complaint but I've noticed that characters who get rebooted numbering are often ones who while popular enough to get consistent ongoings, don't get a lot of faith from DC so they use the new number 1's as a gimmick to garner interest.

But to focus solely on her as a character, I feel similarly to you about liking her in a chill way. She feels less relatable to me than Clark but she's very cool still. I like her optimism, her strong sense of justice, general badassery and also that she's willing to cross that line and kill under certain circumstances. Her diplomatic bent really makes her unique among heroes too.

I need to read more of her absolutely.

---

But yeah, the reason I was thinking about them was because I was (and am) annoyed that Clark and Bruce are pushed as the dynamic when Clark and Diana make much more sense.

They're both outsiders (in different ways) with incredible power who base their justice around harm reduction and have a sense of optimism about the world and the ability to do better. Both make a point of being compassionate, considerate and diplomatic. Bruce's justice is rooted in his trauma and a desire to protect others from experiencing that and he's more pessimistic. He's not particularly considerate or good at communicating, he can be quite self centered and he's obscenely wealthy, which I think would put him at odds with Clark and his values. (Yeah, yeah, Bruce donates to charity but he's still a billionaire so it's clearly not enough, and while Clark may not be straight up commie, I do think he'd agree that being a billionaire is too much).

The reason Bruce and Clark are pushed so much is because they're DC's most famous characters but Diana isn't too far behind and she makes more sense as Clark's closest friend on the League but DC hates women and loves Batman so it's Batman and Superman: World's Finest forever and ever.

Thanks for asking!

[imjustalittleman]

Kara Danvers is Supergirl.

Alex knows this. Winn knows, along with James. Maggie found out. Cat Grant always knew on the down low. And Lena Luthor obviously knows this, too.

So why hasn't Kara told her yet?

She knows it's not because she's a Luthor. They've known each other long enough for that to not even be an issue. Why then, was Kara not telling her what was so obvious?

Surely, all the clues had to mean something. Flying in on a bus? Having coffee with herself in a cafe at 2am? Always referring to herself as "Kara Danvers" when she's Supergirl? For being 'best friends', Lena has never seen Kara or Supergirl in the same place at once. Ever. Simply putting on glasses and doing her hair up in a ponytail wasn't much of a disguise. So, clearly, this couldn't all just be by accident.

Lena had full confidence that Kara wasn't that oblivious to how very bad she was at having a secret identity.

Maybe it was a test. Kara was leaving all of these openings because she wanted Lena to figure it out without telling her directly. Maybe Kara wanted Lena to tell her that she figured it out. That she cracked the code. Solved the two-piece puzzle.

If that was the case, then she was ready to do it now. Heck, she was ready to do it when she first met the reporter. When she came to visit her with Clark Kent. Aka the man in the suit. Aka Superman.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2022 Day 18: Secret

ao3 fic link. series link.

Lena’s pretty sure Supergirl has just walked into Noonan’s. And no, she doesn’t mean Supergirl, with the cape and the skirt, but Supergirl who apparently wears glasses and a cardigan in her free time.

She doesn’t stand as tall, and she has her hair tied back in a pony tail, but Lena’s sure of it, she’s sure the woman ordering 3 sticky buns and a hot chocolate is Supergirl. She recognises those blue eyes and that smile is the exact same as Lena as seen on TV, in magazines and online.

Lena glances around, but no one else seems to have noticed, and Lena’s just arrived in National City, has only been here a few days, but she’s sure no one else has made the connection, no one is seeing what she’s seeing because no one is reacting to the superhero like you’d expect.

She’s pretty, and the barista behind the counter seems to think so, because she winks when she hands the woman her drink, but other than that, no one pays the woman any attention.

Which is kind of surprising, because she’s drop dead gorgeous, but that’s besides the point, because Supergirl is in the same coffee shop as her, getting coffee, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And maybe it is, maybe Supergirl does this all the time. She knows Supergirl has a secret identity, just like Superman does, she just didn’t expect to see her buying food like she’s just a normal woman.

For a moment, Lena considers saying something, talking to her, but she decides against it. The woman���s identity is a secret, and even though Lena doesn’t think she’s doing the best at hiding it, clearly it’s working so she keeps quiet, buys her coffee and goes about her day like nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

Lena already knows she’s made the right choice to move to National City.

And then two days later, the same woman walks into her office and Lena is one hundred percent sure of her observations because Kara Danvers has just walked into her office with Clark Kent, who is also definitely Superman.

Wow, they both really think glasses and slightly hunched shoulders are a good disguise. But she supposes it must be pretty good, considering she hasn’t seen any news outlets publishing stories after either of their identities have been revealed. 

But she keeps her mouth shut on the matter again, because it’s not her secret and these are real lives that could be destroyed if the secret gets out.

To Lena’s complete surprise, she finds herself becoming friends with Kara. And it has nothing to do with Lena knowing her secret and everything to do with Kara being the kindest person she knows, always going out of her way to help people, always making an effort with her, and Lena supposes it really shouldn’t be a surprise that someone like Kara is also Supergirl.

She’d thought, at the beginning, that Kara might have just been pretending to be her friend, to get close to her, but Kara is too genuine, and Supergirl always smiles at her the exact same way Kara does.

It takes two years for Kara to tell Lena her secret, and all the while Lena has sat on the knowledge. She’s not expecting Kara to tell her, it just happens on a normal Sunday evening. They’d been watching a movie but taken a break to get snacks, and when Kara sits down beside her, she looks uncharacteristically nervous and Lena knows something is up.

Thought, she doesn’t expect that Kara’s about to spill her secret.

But then she does, she just blurts out the words, looking on the verge of tears as she does.

“I’m Supergirl.”

Lena’s heart fills, she feels entirely warm inside and out, at the knowledge that Kara is trusting her with this, trusting her with such a big secret, and Kara cares enough about her as a friend to tell her.

“I know,” Lena says at the same time that Kara starts, “I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Wait.” Kara cuts herself off. “You know?”

“I know,” Lena smiles.

Kara looks confused. And rather hopeful. “Are you not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner? That I’ve been lying to you this whole time?”

Lena shakes her head. “No. It’s your secret to tell, your secret to share with who you want to. The fact that you’re telling me means that you trust me and that means so much. I promise, I haven’t told anyone who you are, your secret is safe with me.”

Kara lays her hand over Lena’s, squeezes it. “Of course, I trust you. I’m so glad you know, I’ve hated lying to you. How long have you known? How did you figure it out?”

Lena laughs. “You do know your disguise is a pair of glasses, right? It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

Kara’s cheeks heat. “Oh. When did you figure it out though? Is it because you see me all the time? Alex told me you’d probably figure it out sooner or later, especially when I have to leave all of a sudden all the time.”

“I actually…” Lena’s not quite sure how to say this part. “I actually figured it out before we met. A couple of days before we met, actually. I saw you in Noonan’s, and I just recognised you immediately. You look the same, it wasn’t hard.”

Kara’s mouth drops open. “Wait, you’ve known all this time?”

Lena bites her lip, tries not to laugh at Kara’s astonished expression. “Yes.”

“And you never said anything?”

“Again, it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

Lena finds herself wrapped in Kara’s arms before she fully realises what has happened, her best friend pulling her in for a hug.

“Thank you for not telling anyone. And for protecting me, even when I didn’t know it.” Kara pulls away. “And maybe we won’t tell Alex that part, she’s already worried glasses aren’t enough. She’ll have Supergirl wearing a mask next.”

Lena winks. “I think I can keep this part a secret too.”

“Did you know I remember that day?” Kara says. “That day at Noonan’s.”

Lena remembers it for a very specific reason, she’s not sure why Kara would remember it though. “You do?”

Kara’s eyes remain steadfast on Lena’s face, but Lena can tell she’s nervous again. “I do. It was the day the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen wouldn’t stop staring at me in a coffee shop. Now I know why you were staring, but that day, I almost went up and said something, asked for your number or something, but I chickened out. And then a couple days we met again and it felt like fate.” Kara laughs. “I can’t believe you were staring because you were trying to figure out if I was Supergirl.”

Lena swallows, heart beating fast in her chest. “I mean, I was staring for that reason, but I also thought you were beautiful and I definitely would’ve given you my number if you’d ask.”

“Oh.”

Lena laughs nervously. “Yeah.”

“If I asked for your number, would you give it to me now?”

Lena laughs again, this time more genuinely. ”You do know you already have my number, right?”

Kara fingers play with a loose string on the cushion she’s pulled into her lap. “What if I asked you on a date then, would you say yes?”

Lena’s breath catches. She doesn’t need to think about the answer. “Yes.”

Kara’s face breaks into a huge grin. “Yeah?”

Lena nods. She can’t believe they’re talking about this, like it’s something so casual when in reality, it’s something that could change everything. “Definitely.”

It’s something Lena has obviously thought about before, but with Kara’s secret between them, it never felt like anything could happen. But now here they are, secrets out in the open, Lena’s own secret being that she has feelings for her best friend.

“Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Lena grins. “I’d love to.”

[superbatdisasterblog]

DONE! Thank you for the prompt @ilikebadweather

I hope you like it! I don’t know if I followed the prompt to a T (i am not great at banter lol), but I tried!

Shiver

Rating: M (check the tags on AO3! Kinda dark— mentions of death, humiliation, etc…check before you read, my dears!)

Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne

Prompt: Lex, Clark, and Bruce are all at a charity gala having a conversations when Lex starts talking down about Clark in that faux polite jokingly way, when he says something that Bruce knows would have actually hurt Clark’s feelings but also knows Clark isn’t in the position to properly defend himself, so Bruce turns the tables and just lays into Lex in the most condescending, crude, and blatantly rich man offensive way with that high society faux politeness(…)

Summary: Shiver: (n.) a group of sharks.

Bruce hates events like this— fundraising events that are more about networking than raising money. And of course, Lex Luthor takes the chance to rip into Bruce’s favorite journalist…

Excerpt below the cut!

Lex Luthor has never been his favorite. There’s something about him that is just���off. It’s good that they live in different cities, and therefore the likelihood of chance encounters are slim to none, but unfortunately for Bruce, they have to meet on occassion. There are certain events they are both required to attend— and yes, there are moments where they have to compete with each other.

Luckily, Bruce learned to hide his emotions at an early age, so he’s managed to keep his distaste for Luthor fairly quiet over the decades. And no matter how much Bruce wants to denounce Luthor and his manipulative practices (“It’s all just blatant greenwashing, Alfred!” He had blown up just last night), Bruce will be civil. He will be calm. He will not toss his very expensive drink into the man’s smug face.

“I just think it’s irrational,” Luthor smirks at his rapt audience. “We should be teaching values in our schools, and that includes abstinence as a…”

The glass creaks beneath Bruce’s fingers as he tunes Luthor’s grating voice out in favor of mild dissociation. Another thirty minutes and he can make his excuses and leave. This event is just networking for the elite, thinly disguised as a fundraising event. These people don’t care about preserving land for native bats, they care about who can lift them a step higher on the social ladder—

“Kent!”

The pleasant, soft dissociation he was floating in shatters apart. Clark? The hell is he doing here—?

“Clark Kent!” Luthor booms, and several curious eyes swivel around to target their little group. Following Luthor’s gaze, Bruce spots Clark standing near the bar. He looks like his normal self— creased slacks, too big blazer hanging across his shoulders, and an over washed collared shirt that Bruce knows from experience feels soft as butter. A shiny plastic press badge hangs tangled in Clark’s navy tie, sealing the look in. A plain, harmless reporter.

Bruce knows better.

“Come over here and meet my friends,” Luthor beams, holding a hand out and nearly smacking Senator Jamison in the chest. She takes a small step back, one penciled in eyebrow twitching up just the slightest bit.

Luthor waits, and Clark’s eyes dart around the group, carefully gliding over Bruce’s gaze.

Turn around. Go home. Leave.

Continue on ao3

[superman86to99]

Superman: Under a Yellow Sun (1994)

As the cover says, this is supposed to be one of the novels written by Clark Kent when he's not reporting the news or fighting giant gorillas who shoot kryptonite from their eyes. This graphic novel has two sections: Clark's novel, which is about a former Navy Seal called Guthrie who gets mixed up in a plot full of intrigue and romance, and the real world scenes, where we see Clark struggling with the aforementioned plot while his agent breathes down his neck.

Turns out Clark's novel is due in a week and he's got a major case of writer's block. It doesn't help that he's been kinda busy dealing with a mysterious criminal mastermind who has been supplying Metropolis' street gangs with giant sci-fi guns with big logos that say "LexCorp" on them. Whoever could that be? Oh, and while fighting those gangs he finds out his previous novel is now sold on bargain bins, which had to hurt more than those super-lasers.

Superman confronts Lex Luthor about those weapons, but obviously he has already covered his ass by reporting them stolen. While at it, Lex tells Superman to come work with him and make a ton of money, like he did the first time they met, although I get the impression that this time he's doing it just to mess with him; it's almost like Lex knows Clark Kent is worried about having to give back the book advance he already spent if he doesn't finish his dang book soon.

Superman rejects the offer, of course, but his financial woes trigger a creative breakthrough: in the novel, Guthrie travels to the tropical island of Corto Maltese and is offered a job by a filthy rich businessman called Preston Tagger, who is basically Luthor with a goatee. Unlike Clark, however, his literary alter ego ACCEPTS the money from the corrupt fat cat. To cement the fact that this is book is some sort of wish fulfillment fantasy for Superman, Guthrie even hooks up with a character clearly based on a sexy LexCorp lawyer Clark met while investigating those "missing" weapons, Joanna DaCosta.

Yeah, no goatee this time; she's straight up the same character. In fact, even Lois "A Pair of Glasses Fooled Me For Years" Lane notices that Clark appears to be sweet on the lawyer and confronts him about it. This leads to what has to be the most serious argument we've seen in their relationship (so far).

Perhaps to prevent any further relationship troubles, Clark also introduces a very obvious version of Lois: a principled reporter who despises Guthrie for working with Trager. Joanna makes things, uh, harder for Clark when she shows up at his apartment one night and indicates that she's almost ready to give him evidence against LexCorp, because watching a man die due to those super-weapons gave her a crisis of conscience. She also offers to give him other things, but Clark tells her he's a taken man.

Right after she leaves, Clark writes the scene where Guthrie consummates his romance with the thinly disguised book version of Joanna, so it's pretty clear that Lois does have something to worry about... but not for long. The plane carrying Joanna and her evidence against Luthor conveniently blows up and Superman isn’t able to save her. Enraged, he goes to Luthor’s place but stops himself right before doing something drastic to him. Guthrie does the same thing with Trager in the novel -- right until the "stopping himself" part.

It's Lois who tells Clark (after snooping on his novel without permission) that killing the bad guy doesn't really solve anything. It takes a further pep talk from Perry White to get Clark to realize that Lois was right, and he rewrites the ending so that Guthrie actually takes down Trager's criminal empire with help from the "Lois" character and a "Perry" one (there's also a "Jimmy" one somewhere in there, but he contributes nothing substantial to the plot, true to life).

At the same time, Clark eats his pride and asks Lois for help with the LexCorp story. Together, they follow the evidence and bring down... not Luthor, but at least the guy who blew up the airplane, so that’s something. Months later, Clark wins the prestigious Zenith Award (best known as the "Baldy") for his new novel, and Luthor even congratulates him on that detestable Trager character.

Oh, and Clark gets a letter from Joanna telling him she missed that flight that exploded, but the whole "almost dying in a fiery explosion" thing made her rethink turning on Luthor and she's just gonna go into hiding forever now. We end with a short scene where Guthrie says he may not have gotten rich during his tropical vacation, but at least he can live with himself. Plus, the “Lois” character seems to like him now, so it wasn’t a total wash.

Creator-Watch:

This graphic novel is written by John Francis Moore, who also wrote the non-continuity Superboy series based on the late '80s/early '90s TV show (which we're veeeery slowly covering on our Patreon... more soon!). The book sections are drawn by Eduardo Barreto, who also did Lex Luthor: The Unauthorized Biography and the issue where Superman finally brings down Intergang, so he's like the official artist for gritty crime stories around these parts.

Meanwhile, the real life parts are by the great Kerry Gammill, who was a regular contributor to the Superman books around 1988-1990... and might have started this one around that time, since he was notoriously slow. Sadly, this book is his last major Superman project to date (though if you wanna argue that his two pages in Superman: The Wedding Album are "major" I won't argue with that).

Plotline-Watch:

We can establish that this story takes place shortly before Clark and Lois' engagement not just through the state of their relationship (close, but not so close that she'd know he's an alien), or the fact that Lex Luthor is still overweight and bald, but thanks to the poor sales of Clark's first novel. Back in Superman #49, a month before the engagement, Clark shows Lois that The Janus Contract is on the bargains table at a bookstore and she comforts him by telling him he's in good company (does "J.L. Byrne" still count as "good company"?). Presumably he found out about the fate of his book during this story and decided to show Lois not long after that.

This is the second in-story instance of the Zenith/Baldy Awards, introduced during the "Dark Knight Over Metropolis" storyline, and we'll see the third and (I believe) last one soon-ish in 1994 or early 1995. This is the only thing that messes up my timeline above, since Luthor "died" shortly after Lois and Clark got engaged and presumably it took more than a few days for Clark's novel to be edited, printed, distributed, and win the award. Let's just pretend Lex has long red hair and an Australian accent in that scene at the end to make it work.

It would have been cool if the writers had brought back Joanna to testify against Luthor in the main books around this time now that he's finally about to go down, but given that this was a fancy graphic novel (with a fancy $6 cover price) I can see why they didn't.

If only Lois had been there at the writers' room for Zack Snyder's Man of Steel...

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Can I request superman x reader tuskino uasagi older sister while usagi is just her princess and sister reader is sailor moon featuring jealous Lois lane while reader is a superhero sailor moon

Hello dear 💖, I'm so sorry this took super long I've been trying to clear out all the requests lately and I really tried to get to yours.

Don't worry here it is 😀 I made it into a headcanon, to make up for it if you request next you will be the first priority.

Being the sailor moon and in a relationship with superman🦸‍♂️

Superman is the most powerful man on earth so it only seems fair your the second.

Superman met you one day when one of the villians decided to go loose and you hands down defeated them with your powers.

Superman was instantly taken in by your beauty, your sailor suit was foreign to him.

He had no idea who you were but either way you joined him and the justice league.

You were much more cuter then any woman he had seen.

He kept his secret an identity though, even through the glasses.

You were also in disguise as a employee who was clumsy.

You met Clark Kent, a ordinary townie but he seemed similar to someone.

You developed a crush on superman but Clark Kent was certainly cute.

Superman questioned about his love life being he was in love with the work you and the sailor scout you.

Eventually he found out when he saw you transform.

Superman had his first kiss with you on the moon.

Unfortunately every relationship has its problems and Lois lane was one.

Lois was jealous everytime she tried to talk to superman or Clark, he diverted his attention to you.

You were protective of your sister, she was your priority above anything else.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta ✨️

Headcanon requests: open

Writing commissions: open

[toodamnloyal]

@notabirdnotaplane Continued

Superman was by no means a vampire (*cough cough tssk tssk*), but his sensitive hearing did allow him to tell when a person was nervous or lying by way of their body’s reactions… like this person’s speeding heartbeat.

Now Superman knew his rapid heartbeat could simply be a case of awe within his presence… but given the fact that he was staring at Clark Kent… something definitely was up.

“Of course I remembered, Kent. Don’t you know you’re my third favorite employee at the Daily Planet - behind Lois and Jimmy; I’m sure you’d understand my ranking.”

He saw his doppelgänger sneeze, and he knew it was fake given the fact he heard no congestion within his lungs - still, he played along.

“Oh, it takes a lot more than a human cold to get me sick. Would you like my medical staff to check you over? It’s completely complimentary and you would be in the hands of the best of the best.”

He wrapped a firm arm around his shoulder, speaking in a more hushed voice:

“Between you and me, these people are the same guys that stitch up Batman when he gets hurt. But keep that between you and me, okay?”

Superman’s main goal with his words was to get this person away from the crowds of gathered reporters and somewhere behind closed doors, so he could ask him his questions more directly.

“Say, Kent, would you like an exclusive backstage tour? See the stuff that we’re not revealing until opening day? It’ll be my honor, and I’m sure Mrs. Lane wouldn’t mind.”

There was a beat as the fae shapeshifter desperately tried to decide if this superhero was really being friendly and making a joke at his (supposed) expense - or if he’d made some fatal mistake. “I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to Lois if I was your favorite.” He said with a grin and quick chuckle that quickly gave way to another sneeze directed into his elbow. “Well.” He sniffled in his disguise as Kent, “That’s a relief at least” then as a funny thought accured to Theo he laughed for real, “I’d hate for you to sneeze and topple over a whole building.” Color rose on his face as he laughed, genuinely amused with his own imagination of Superman sneezing and his breath freezing people and buildings, then blowing them away like something from a cartoon.

Laughter stopped though when a very firm grip wrapped around his shoulders and the man leaned down to speak in his ear. “Oh I don’t think I want to tangle with any doctors who can take on Batman.” Theo said honestly and held up a placating hand. He wasn’t comfortable borrowing someone else’s body as it was, and then being poked and prodded, especially by doctors who could subdue a man like Batman - no thank you he wanted to be as far away from that as possible. “Besides, there’s no reason to attack a head cold like it’s the flu or something.”

Not able to argue against the super strength that steered him away from the rest of the group Theo complied and tried to keep his tone even and friendly despite his growing nervousness. “Only if it’s okay with Lois, she has the story after-all.” He meekly protested and reached up to adjust the glasses on his face, they had been dislodged by his sneezes and laughter. “Really I don’t want any kind of special treatment, it’s okay.” But, Superman was leading him away and ‘Clark’ certainly couldn’t continue to protest. Theo was certain that this was what a heart attack felt like, a cold hard pit, squeezing of his chest, clammy palms. It was enough to make him almost lose his grip on his disguise.

What odd twist of luck, sneak in because he does want the VIP tour, and now that he’s got personal conversation time with Metropolis’ own Superhero - Theo felt so much dread creeping up his spine that his feathers were itching just under his skin. Every instinct telling him he was in deep, deep trouble and had made a horrible mistake.

[phykios]

this one is dedicated to mi amor mari @perseannabeth, who is a beautiful bird and a wonderful friend and i am v v vvvvv grateful to have crossed the airwaves with her :”)

Today Was A Fairytale [read on ao3] T, modern royalty, fun at disneyland!

She stares at him. 

He stares back. “What?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You really think this is going to be enough?” Annabeth points at her head, the blue Yankees cap squishing her curls. 

“Of course! It’s the Clark Kent effect.” As if to underline his point, Percy slips on his fake hipster glasses, except that stupid grin of his is too bright not to draw attention. 

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Sure it is. Studies show that glasses are actually good enough to alter your appearance if someone doesn’t know you well.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a pair of glasses for me?”

“Because your hair is definitely the prettiest thing about you,” he says, automatically tugging an unruly curl which peeks out from under the brim, a gesture so practiced she almost doesn’t register it--until he blinks, dropping his hand, blushing lightly. “I mean--the most noticeable thing. You know. A hat should be fine.”

He looks away. Heat rises to her face, too. Because it’s so hot out, obviously. 

“Anyway,” he mumbles, “um. No--no one’s going to give you a second look if your hair is hidden.”

Chewing her lip, Annabeth can’t help but worry. Percy’s face is extremely well-known, possibly more than hers, and they’ve both spent the better part of three weeks with their faces plastered all over the media on their diplomatic trip. This is probably a really, really bad idea. Then, a thought occurs to her. “How about,” she says, perking up, “you give me your glasses, and I’ll give you mine.” From her backpack, she fishes out a pair of sunglasses, big and nondescript. He’ll practically be wearing a superhero mask with these.

Percy smiles again, and Annabeth thinks she might fly. “Perfect.”

Which is how Her Royal Highness Anna Elisabeth Ingrid Irene of Sweden and His Serene Highness Perseus Alexandros Ioannis of Thera play hooky from their day of boring meetings, insufferable dignitaries, and stuffy security guards, to go see the eighth wonder of the world: Disneyland Resort in California.

And how Annabeth eats her words as they make it past the security gate unchecked. “Eh?” He beams, nudging her with his elbow. “Eh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him back. “Shut up.”

***

[description: a tiktok video which depicts a line at Disneyland. the op, a black girl with braids, covers her mouth and looking into the camera, turning the camera to focus on the two people behind her. one is a tall boy with black hair and sunglasses, and the other is a blonde girl with a yankees hat and glasses. both are white. video text reads: “p sure the people behind me are prince percy and princess annabeth??? um?????”. background audio is a dubstep remix of the fight theme from undertale. end ID]

***

Maybe it’s a little weird, on account of her being actual royalty and all, but Annabeth has always been interested in princesses, both as a matter of historical record (history is awesome) and in the general sense. Like millions of other people, she, too, was raised on Disney movies and tales of princesses and true love, and she was just as captivated as the rest of them. She and Percy used to watch the Disney catalogue whenever their families held state visits for each other, staying up into the small hours of the morning, sharing some popcorn and singing along. 

Luckily for Annabeth, her favorite princess is holding a meet and greet at the Royal Hall.

“Excuse me,” Percy says, approaching Princess Ariel. Well, her cast member, anyway. “Could I get a photo for my friend?”

“Of course!” she trills, her blue eyes sparkling. “It would be my pleasure.” Holding her hand out, perfectly poised and graceful in a way that would impress even Annabeth’s stodgy etiquette instructor, she smiles, warm and welcoming, pivoting to bring Annabeth in for one of those weird, semi-awkward half-hugs. “What’s your name?”

“Anna,” says Annabeth. Hey, it’s not untrue. She’s a little leery of using any of her names, but Anna is common enough. Annabeth? Not so much. Even with her glasses and hat disguise, a little paranoia is justified, she thinks.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Anna,” she says, cheerful, with all the grace and charm of someone who doesn’t spend hours saying the same thing over and over again to excitable, temperamental children. What a trooper, she thinks.

“Don’t you recognize a fellow princess when you see one, your highness?” Percy says, grinning that stupid, smarmy grin of his. 

Annabeth glares. Oh, he thinks he’s so damn clever. 

“Oh, of course,” says Ariel, smoothly. “How could I have thought otherwise? Your highness.” And she curtsies to Annabeth, a short dip, her hand placed delicately against her chest. “Perhaps I can introduce you to my friend Anna, princess of Arendelle?”

Still smirking, Percy takes some more pictures, trapping Annabeth into smiling for the camera. She can’t be glaring daggers in her pictures, nor can there be video evidence of her kicking him--no matter how much she wants to.

And she definitely doesn’t miss the way Ariel not-so-subtly checks Percy out, eyeing him up and down.

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses as they leave the photo area, swatting him lightly, and he giggles. 

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him, though she definitely tries as they enter back out into the park proper, giving him just the barest hint of a cold shoulder. 

“Aw, come on,” Percy says. “I was just teasing.”

“You shouldn’t go around tempting fate like that,” Annabeth says. “Do you want to cause another international incident?”

Percy winces, no doubt remembering the Gateway Arch incident of 2008. 

“If someone recognizes us, we don’t have Zoe or any of her team to protect us,” Annabeth goes on. “Not that I think anyone here would try to hurt us, but…” But it’s a little nerve-wracking, being on her own like this. She hasn’t been alone like this for a really long time.

Wincing, Percy rubs the back of his head. “I guess I forgot you’re a little higher profile than me. Sorry.”

She doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s true. Percy, by his nature as the younger son of a largely defunct royal house, doesn’t have quite the same number of… issues… that someone like Annabeth might have.

Deflating, she uncrosses her arms. “It’s okay.”

“I should have asked you first.”

“It’s really okay,” she says. “No harm no foul.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, entirely serious. “I can call someone up.”

She knows just how long they’ve planned this, how many favors he’s called in and policies he’s sidestepped. Backing out now would just be a waste of a day. She shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just… feeling a little exposed, I guess. But, I don’t want to ruin all our plans. Let’s keep going.” She grabs his hand, squeezing a little.

“...Okay,” Percy says. “But say the word, and we’ll call it a day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Like he doesn’t have any other expression today, he smiles at her again.

It hits her, suddenly. He’s so much taller than she remembers. Once upon a time she used to be taller than him; now, he’s basically a whole head above her. 

It’s annoying. But also… not.

Spying something over her shoulder, his eyes light up, and he practically gasps. “Cinderella!” he points with his free hand, like a five-year old. “Come on!” And he takes off to one of the park corners, dragging Annabeth along with him. 

He has to wait in line behind a pair of twin girls, six or seven years old by the looks of it, in identical Cinderella dresses for a photo, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and when it’s finally his turn, he nearly trips over himself to go up and ask for a photo. 

Cinderella agrees, and now Annabeth is relegated to the job of cameraperson. Percy slides in next to the princess, his hand on her waist, but, ever the respectful gentleman, loosely held, so the cast member can slide out of his grasp without any difficulty at all.

Taking a few shots, it does look kind of strange to have Cinderella’s beautiful, shining face, and Percy’s enormous sunglasses blocking his. “Take off your glasses?” she says, lowering her phone for a second. 

Dutifully, Percy slips them off, smiling again for the camera. 

Cinderella’s smile doesn’t falter, a credit to her professionalism, but Annabeth can see her eyes widen, just a touch.

Annabeth snaps off a few more photos, “Got ‘em!” and Percy once again gushes over the princess, thanking her for her time. Grabbing Annabeth’s hand again, he practically skips off, leading them in the direction of a nearby candy shop. 

***

me: IM SHAKING GUESS WHO I JUST TOOK A PICTURE WITH????

sis: prince percy?

me: HOW TF DID YOU KNOW

sis: its on twitter already

***

They’re walking along, Annabeth slurping up a Dole whip, when she suddenly stops in her tracks, outside of one of the many, many gift shops. “Wait up a second.”

“Hm?” Percy says, around the giant lollipop in his mouth. 

“I want to get some Mickey ears.” 

Very quickly they get lost in the sea of Disney merchandise, walking the labyrinth of Star Wars and Marvel and Pixar goods. There’s a surprising amount of black for the so-called happiest place on Earth, but things do brighten up when Annabeth finally turns a corner and finds the enormous selection of Mickey ears. It’s a wash of sparkles, flowers, bows, and occasionally characters, for children and adults alike. Annabeth eyes a pair designed like Baby Yoda, eyes wide and ears adorably huge, before she fingers a pair of white Mickey ears that have a bridal veil attached to them, contemplating its counterpart, the black ears for the groom, each ear emblazoned with a sparkling silver “Happily Ever After.”

She looks around. Where did Percy wander off to, anyway? 

Well, wherever he is, hopefully he hasn’t gotten mobbed by a horde of excitable fangirls. Given that she can’t hear any screaming--well, any unusual, non-Disneyland-relevant screaming--that’s probably a good sign. 

Running her fingers over the ear selections, she finally picks out a pair of silver sequined earrings with a shiny gold bow, a tiny, rhinestone Cinderella’s castle placed delicately in the middle. 

Yeah. This one. 

Percy finds her as she is paying for her ears, a pair of his own already on his head, red balloons inside of plastic circles. The sunglasses, she notes with a tinge of nervousness, are tucked in his shirt, and not on his face, protecting his identity. “Oh, check mine out--they light up!” he says, giddy, pressing the button on the side, not that she can tell in the brightly lit shop.

“That’s not why I was looking.”

Walking out of the store, ears firmly in her possession, she looks around again. Percy’s face is out there for the world to see, and no one is giving them a hard time. 

And her hat is really sweaty. 

Ah, fuck it.

She removes the Yankees cap, shaking out her sweaty curls, sliding the ears on in its place.

And the glasses, for good measure.

“Cinderella?” Percy asks.

“I thought you’d approve.”

Outside the shop, next to a corn dog cart, Percy pulls her aside, out of the way of a whole classroom’s worth of children, holding up a plastic plag. “So, confession.”

“Percy…” He didn’t. “We said no gifts!” They had agreed to it that morning!

“Well, see,” he says, fumbling around in the bag, pulling out a black t-shirt. “I saw this, and I thought--I thought you might like it.”

He unfolds it, and Annabeth frowns at the shirt design. 

It’s… a drawing of a man in a purple mask against a solid black background, glaring at the viewer. Circling him, in distressed, white-grey military font, are the words “BARON ZEMO,” and the logo for the show he must star in, Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. She doesn’t really watch superhero shows, though, and she’s pretty sure Percy doesn’t, either. Maybe he’s started this one and he really likes it? “Thanks,” she says, confusion coloring her voice despite her best efforts. 

But he doesn’t look too disappointed. “I was looking through their pride merch, and they didn’t have any stuff with the ace flag, which totally sucks, but then I thought that maybe you might like something a little more subtle? So, yeah.” He shakes it. “Ace pride!”

Oh. Oh, this boy. 

She remembers, so vividly, visiting his father’s summer home on Kalymnos, a few years ago, the summer she turned nineteen, waking up to a banging in the kitchen, noisy pots and pans making a real racket. Granted, it had been one in the afternoon, and Annabeth probably should have been awake sooner, but she had stumbled out of the guest room into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, to the sight of Percy wrestling with the standmixer, making bright, neon purple frosting. The night before, sometime around three or four AM, that weird, liminal hour where the shadow of night just starts to recede, the sky a sweet, soft, dusky blue, she had come out as demisexual to her best friend, saying the words aloud for the first time ever. Loopy from lack of sleep, the moment had passed without much fanfare.

But Percy, dark-circled and still yawning, had woken up early to make her a chocolate cake. By the time she had woken up, he had baked the cake, chilled it, and made two out of the three frosting colors, a beautiful, moist, dark chocolate cake which ended up being frosted with a marbled mix of purple, black, and white, all folding into each other into a kind of colorless, grey sugar. 

Here, now, in Disneyland, she throws herself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. His arms automatically come up to circle her, hugging her tight. 

She had been worried it had been some kind of defense mechanism. A young girl with an alarmingly high profile, Annabeth had been the subject of intense scrutiny with regards to any romantic entanglements, with critics, tabloid reporters, and fans alike attempting to invent gossip-worthy relationships with every boy she ever talked to--most usually Percy. They did grow up in the public eye together, attending all kinds of events and functions together over the last fifteen or so years. And they did tweet at each other. Like, a lot. They even had their own portmanteau hashtag. But no relationship ever materialized.

She thought maybe she was just being stubborn, unwilling to play the media game. But it hadn’t been stubbornness. It wasn’t about shyness or inexperience. It was real, and it was her.

And Percy hadn’t even blinked.

“I love it,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, swaying her from side to side, just a little. “It was my pleasure.”

***

What’s happening: #percabeth (Entertainment • trending)

@kndrck__ STREAM CHROMATICA: um @TheraUS @SwedenRoyals i think i found your sick royals? #percabeth #disneyland

@wasabiviking: omg werent they supposed to be at some hospital opening today #percabeth

@ChampionSno brando he/him: LMAOOO NOT #PERCABETH PLAYING HOOKY LIKE IT’S ROMAN HOLIDAY

***

“Holy shit,” Percy moans, his mouth full of food. “Oh my God. Dear God in Heaven.”

Annabeth kicks his ankle under the table. “Don’t be rude.”

He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Oh my God, Annabeth. Holy shit. This is the best damn sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“A monte cristo?”

“A deep-fried monte cristo! In sweet batter!” Taking another bite, he moans again, just this side of indecent. “Oh my God I love Americans. They are absolute culinary geniuses.”

“Better than Bistrot Chez Rémy?” They had both been to Disneyland Paris, separately, sadly, and Percy had recommended the restaurant to her with great enthusiasm for her upcoming trip. As usual, he was spot on with his food recs. 

He nods, eyes closed in rapture. “By a mile.”

“You’ll have to learn to make your own when we get back home, then.”

He jolts, straightening up, cheeks full of food. Roughly, he swallows. “You’re right! I need to take notes.” And he takes out his phone, hurriedly typing down whatever scent and flavor notes he must be able to discern. “This is definitely challah…”

Plucking another piece of chicken with her fork out of her jambalaya, Annabeth lets her attention wander a little, content to watch the passengers on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as they float on beside them, down in the artificially constructed bayou river. 

Truth be told, she’s kind of tired. They’ve been walking around all day, and even with the brief reprieve of rides, her shoes really aren’t the kind that deal well with huge amounts of walking. She can already tell that she’s going to crash, and crash hard, whenever they get back to their hotel. You know, if their security detail doesn’t eviscerate them first. 

When Percy had first presented his idea to her, she had agreed without hesitation. They had had a long, dense schedule of public appearances planned for their excursions to the states, and the days had begun to seriously wear them out. Together, they had worked out the kinks, coming up with contingencies, negotiating things to do, all over Discord so no one else would get wind of what they were doing. Prior to this trip, she hadn’t seen him in… probably almost a year. She knows his father had been keeping him close to home for whatever reason, and Annabeth had had a handful of official functions to deal with. Their paths just never managed to cross, up until now. 

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. 

It’s lonely, growing up in the public eye. It’s cliche, but it’s true. And while Annabeth is afforded a metric ton of various intersecting privileges, she thinks she’d probably give it up in a heartbeat. It kind of sucks being a living, breathing tourist attraction. 

Growing up, she had her cousin Magnus, and a handful of other assorted children to play with, but she would never say that she had a best friend, or even a good friend, until she’d met Percy. Her mother and his father, famous for their mutual dislike, had put aside their differences to host some kind of charitable dinner for the disgustingly wealthy, and had trotted out their respective children in all their finery. Annabeth, being all of twelve years old, hadn’t really grasped the gravity of the event, and had gotten into an itty bitty little food fight with the then-unknown Prince Perseus, the result of an extramarital affair whom his father had so graciously decided to acknowledge and adopt. 

After that night, they became fast friends, and she decided that, if she ever left the royal life, she’d make sure to take Percy with her. He’s one of the few things that makes her life bearable. 

She thinks about it, sometimes. Renouncing her title. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. There was Magnus, just in line behind her. And it’s not like her family held any executive power anyway. They’re just fancy, historically interesting celebrities. 

Would Percy give up his, she wonders?

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

He looks at her oddly over their dessert, two vanilla-bourbon creme brulees. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Long day.”

“You want to call it a night?”

She frowns. “What’s left?”

“Well, we did Space Mountain, Rise of the Resistance, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, a few others,” he counts off his fingers, “saw the princesses, got Mickey ears, ate at Blue Bayou… I guess all that’s left is walking around the pier, if you want.”

“Sounds like you two had a full day.”

As one, they almost leap out of their seats, Annabeth choking on her spit. “Jesus, Zoe,” Percy pants, his hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh?” says Zoe Nightshade, the head of their security detail, who had just apparently materialized out of thin air. “Funny. I could say the same about you, sir.”

Coughing, Annabeth eventually manages to get her air back. “Hey, Zoe,” she wheezes. “How was your day?”

“Eventful. Let me tell you about it in the car.”

Annabeth glances at Percy, who’s looking a little bit like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she’s surprised they even made it this far without one of their own tracking them down. Still, it looks like their game is up. 

...Or is it?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a large tour group, approaching on the horizon.

“Sure,” Annabeth says, getting up. Luckily, they’ve already paid, so they can just head out; they don’t need to wait for another big group of people to cross their paths. “Will you let us go to the bathroom, first?”

Zoe squints. She’s always been able to see through Annabeth’s bullshit. But Annabeth has her best, Percy-patented baby seal eyes on, perfectly innocent. Surely, Zoe wouldn’t deny them a physical need such as relieving themselves?

After a moment, she nods. “Make it quick, if you please.”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, looking over at Percy, hoping he gets the message. He stands up, slow and stiff, eyes darting between the two of them. “We’ll be right back.”

They wander through tables and chairs towards the bathroom, her eyes always on the tour group as it just starts to pass by. Reaching out, Annabeth grabs Percy’s hand, and with a turn that would make her track coach proud, sprints out of the restaurant, using the throng of people as cover. 

She thinks she hears Zoe yelling behind them, but maybe it’s just her own laughter. “Come on!” she shrieks, breathless, as Percy’s long legs keep pace with her. “To California Adventure!”

***

darthbingus said: the monarchy are fucking parasites but percabeth is pretty cute i guess :/

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: it’s obviously a publicity thing lmao, also prince Percy is gay???

eowynning reblogged and said: he’s dating rachel dare, right? he can’t be gay 

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: That was a publicity thing too obvs, and Annabeth hasn’t ever been linked to a guy. The king of thera is hardline greek orthodox, there’s no way he’d let his son come out publicly. They’re both gay and pretending to date because homophobia

lardoftheprks reblogged and said: people can be bi and ace and pan and all sorts of things you know

batgirlcock reblogged and said: can you animals leave them alone fr

***

Zoe only spots them after the ferris wheel starts moving. Sprinting over to them, they’re still a full forty feet off the ground by the time she reaches the operator. “Sorry!” she yells down to her, hands cupping her mouth. “We’ll be down in ten minutes!”

“Ananbeth!” he chokes, giggles still escaping him. 

“What?” she laughs. 

“We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

“Exactly,” she says, settling back on the ride. “You’ll probably be grounded for life.”

“Me?” he squawks, playfully offended. “What about you?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ll just pin it all on you.”

Leaning back, he pouts, arms crossed. “Wow. I plan this amazing day, violate a few embassorial rules, and probably put both of our countries on a massive red alert, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I helped plan it, too.” But he does have a point. “Thank you,” she says. “I had a lot of fun today.”

He turns his head to her, a grin stretching across his face. “Me too.” 

His voice is so soft, so fond. They share a look, a moment, no words between them, only the silence of a true, deep companionship. They don’t need to say anything else, because they already know what the other would say. 

As one, they break away, looking back out into the California evening. 

They don’t talk much as the ferris wheel climbs higher and higher. Honestly, Annabeth is kind of impressed with how well he’s handling himself--she knows heights are a bit of a weakness of his. He grabs the edges of their gondola every once in a while as it drops a few feet, knuckles white and face a little green, but he manages to keep his dinner down, even as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt, Percy and Annabeth at the top of the world. The swing back and forth a little, hot faces against the cool evening breeze. 

And they stay there. 

And stay there. 

And… stay there. 

Annabeth checks her watch. How long have they been up here?

Percy taps his feet, a little too frantic just to be ADHD. 

Finally, there’s a burst of noise from below them, garbled and static. “Uh, yes, excuse me--” the voice says, amplified through a megaphone. “Yeah, um, it appears we are having some… uh, technical difficulties with the Pixar Pal-A-Round. Please remain calm, as we have our best technicians on it, and we are working on evacuating the ride in a calm and efficient manner.” Then the voice cuts out. 

Annabeth glances towards Percy. He has his hands in his lap, fists clenching and unclenching, over and over again. “Uh… you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Percy says, “just fine. Peachy keen.” He squeezes his eyes shut, slowly blowing out his breath through his mouth. 

“Hey.” She reaches over, and takes one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. After a long day of holding hands, somehow it still manages to surprise her, how well they fit together, how her skin tingles as she rubs her thumb against his finger. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be just fine. They’re going to get us off this ride, and then we’ll fly home and be grounded for life.”

“I thought,” he wheezes, “you’d blame it all on me?”

“As if you could come up with a plan as genius as hiding from our guard in It's A Small World.”

He nods, shakily. “Right. All you. Definitely not my idea. Everyone knows I’d have looped back to Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Definitely.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer. “Just breathe with me a little, okay?”

They breathe together, slowly and evenly. At some point, Percy takes her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her palm, tracing her lifelines like a map. His hands are big, and warm, and it seems to calm him down a little, so she doesn’t mind all that much. 

Twilight darkens, stars twinkling against the grey, dusky sky, and still they are holding hands. Eventually, Percy relaxes, slumping against his seat.

“You good?” 

He nods. He still doesn’t let go. “Yeah. Just…” he sighs, stretching his arms up, taking Annabeth’s hand with him. “Not super looking forward to the dressing down I’m going to get.”

She winces. Annabeth’s dad is a little more flexible than Percy’s when it comes to breaches of protocol. The king of Thera is somewhat famous for his paranoia. “I hope it was worth it.”

He whips his head to her, eyes wide. “Of course it was worth it!” he says, as though the opposite were even fathomable. “You kidding? This was the best day of my life.”

“Better than your sixteenth?” His father had officially acknowledged him that day. Annabeth had spotted him in a deserted hallway with his mother, the two of them fighting off a few happy tears. She knows just how special that day was for him. 

“Not even close.” Squeezing her hand, he smiles again, that smile she knows almost better than her own by now. That smile she grew up with, a quiet oasis in a whirlwind of ancient tradition and modern media coverage. That smile is safety, familiarity. That smile was there to greet her when her mother chose to leave her family, when her uncle died without heirs, thrusting the position of heiress on her, whenever she had a rotten day or a bad grade or a lonely night, just on the other end of a phone, or down the hall, or in the kitchen. 

Whatever happens, she knows, Percy will be her best friend. Her anchor. 

Her…

She swallows. “Thank you,” she says again. “I needed this.” A day without an agenda. A day just for them. 

His eyes are dark, and soft, like the water beneath them. One hundred and fifty feet in the air in a broken ferris wheel, there’s nowhere safer she can be. “Me too.”

So she’s not really surprised at herself when she says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Eyes widening, just a hair, he opens his mouth, momentarily speechless. “You--are you sure?”

She nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“Cool. Uh, me too.”

“Cool.”

Neither of them move. 

“So, do--do you want to--”

Annabeth leans in, her other hand cupping his cheek, and kisses him. 

His lips are soft. His mouth tastes like vanilla and bourbon. They are trapped in a metal box, one hundred and fifty feet off the ground, about to get the punishment of their lives when they get down, and it is absolutely, utterly perfect. 

And when Annabeth pulls back, there are fireworks. 

Quite literally.

Percy’s face glows with pink and green and purple, and a little fire in his eyes that’s all him. The pops of the fireworks, loud and brassy, and muted, completely overshadowed by the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

They rest their heads against each other, breathing each other’s air, quiet and intimate, the calm before the storm that is surely coming. But that’s fine. Let it come, she thinks. She’ll be safe with Percy.

When the park technicians eventually get the ferris wheel moving again, Percy and Annabeth disembark from the gondola like nothing’s even gone wrong, waving to the crowd of people, fans, and reporters alike, who have swarmed the pier, phones and cameras held aloft in a constellation of light, before being quickly hurried away by Zoe and her crew, ushered to the end of the pier where Annabeth’s embassy’s car is waiting. 

Percy doesn’t let go of her hand once. 

***

KALYMNOS, GREECE--Prince Percy has arrived on the island for his family’s annual summer retreat, bringing his girlfriend, Princess Annabeth of Sweden, with him for the fifth year in a row, and the third as his official partner. Lifelong friends, the couple were most recently seen at Disneyland Tokyo, continuing something of a tradition for the two royals where they visit Disneyland parks across the globe. Our sources inside the castle are hinting that the family is planning something big this year. Could we see a proposal by the end of summer? Be sure to subscribe for more updates!

[taleasnewastime]

VEXED (Teaser)

Read it in full here

Summary: Vexed; to be annoyed, frustrated or worried about something. Or by your definition, the feeling you have towards the industry you work in and the media who are seemingly out to get you. Nothing inspires you anymore, nothing makes you want to continue to stay in the spotlight, and on top of that, the media’s negativity is spreading into your personal life so that you feel lost and lonely all the time. But at your lowest moment, there’s a spark of light in the form of a man. A man who you keep bumping into and who helps to drag you out of the dark.

It’s a love story, about a boy who meets a girl and teaches her to love herself again, to not worry about what people say about her, to make her realise what she wants in life, and about what’s really important.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Actress reader, fluff, smut, angst.

Estimated word count: ~35k

Teaser word count: 1.8k

Warnings: There are themes of anxiety, bad mental health throughout this story, please don’t read if you find this triggering. Though the teaser has no sexual content, the full fic will.

You step into the shop, your eyes squinting at the stark light difference from the night outside to the florescent light inside. You’d asked your driver to drop you at the shop after the small party one of your cast members had thrown after all the film's success at the awards. You don’t need anything, but want to have a look and a walk home. With the few days being home alone, not socialising with many people, you want to do something that feels normal again. The chances of someone seeing you and recognising you are slim, and even if they do, at this time, you can’t imagine they would cause much of a scene.

Plus, the night has been so good, you don’t quite want it to end. You haven’t felt this happy in a while, not since before Eddie broke up with you, not since your name took a deep dive and the media basically use it as a synonym for hate.

You tie your hair into a loose ponytail and pull a cap over your head. A stupid precaution, but one that makes you feel at least a little better about walking into the shop alone.

The lights feel blinding as you walk further into the shop, ducking your head down to hide your eyes as well as your face. You move through the shop, looking at the shelves, not really sure what you want. You find yourself in front of the chocolate when you eventually come to a stop. Eyes looking around at the range of flavours and colours of all the different bars. It depends on the role you’re playing, normally you’re quite fortunate and never have to do hard, weight losing diets, but chocolate has always been something you’ve found hard not to indulge in.

You reach out for one of the brighter packages, one that you’ve never seen before. Mind only seeing the bright colours and not the words

“It’s not quite as good as Superman.”

Your head whips up to the sound of the voice and find a man smiling down at you. It takes you longer than you would like to recognise him. And he must catch the fact as his smile falters, but he recovers it quickly.

“Your disguise,” he clarifies. “Clark Kent would not be impressed.”

A full-blown smile breaks across your face. You’d thought you’d been caught by a fan, but instead stands the man from the after party. The man who had stayed with you when you felt so low. You’d assumed you’d never see him again, but here he stands.

He’s not wearing a suit tonight though, his hair not styled back to show his undercut, which you reason might be why it took you a second or two to recognise him. Instead, his hair is loose and slightly wavey as it covers his forehead. Earrings in his ears and rings on his fingers. He has a large black sweater on, with black combat trousers and black vans. He looks cuddly, while you have a feeling he might be aiming for intimidating.

“I knew I should have gone with the glasses,” you joke and watch as his lips pull back to show his teeth, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Your second mistake was the chocolate bar,” his eyes flick from your face to the item in your hand.

“Not a fan of...” you look down, “orange and avocado?”

Your lips twitch realising your mistake. You’d picked it up merely for the bright orange and green, not noticing the flavours. The man lets out a small chuckle and you flush in embarrassment.  

“I seem to always make a fool out of myself in front of you,” the words tumble out as you turn and place the chocolate back on the shelf. You carry on before he can talk. “And always seem to say exactly what’s on my mind, it appears.”

Making the most of your back to him you try to compose yourself. You’d not thought of him much since that night and you certainly had never thought you’d actually see him again. So now, with him stood in front of you, you wish you had been able to predict it, had given more thought to how sweet he was. And all the embarrassment from after that night comes flying back.

You turn back to look at him and there’s a small smile on his face, his eyes gleaming as he looks at you. He looks thoroughly amused by your ramblings.

“I guess I should apologise for crying on you too,” you continue. “So, sorry if I ruined the after party for you, I wasn’t really expecting anyone to walk in on me, but thanks for staying.”

Your voice rises at the end of the sentence as if it’s a question, as if you’re unsure of yourself. Probably because you are unsure. Talking to strangers, especially this candidly is not something that you do. It feels weird and abnormal that it’s you flushing under his gaze and not the other way around.

Still, he doesn’t talk, just continues to stare at you with what you assume is amusement, but could be anything, and it only makes you more flustered.

“Anyway, not only did I ruin a party for you, now I’m totally ruining your shopping experience by blabbering at you. I’ll let you get back to buying,” you look down at the items in his hands, some tangerines, a pot of instant coffee and some washing tablets. “Your breakfast?”

He chuckles, his gummy teeth showing again. And you can’t help but smile at the fact that you did that.

“You’re ok,” he says when he’s recovered and your heart jumps. Did he mean to repeat the words you said to him from that night? It shouldn’t affect you, but it does. “I’d go for the peanut butter KitKat.”

You instantly frown, so thrown by his comment that it takes you a second to understand the words. And when you realise what he’s on about, you only frown more.

“Really?” You say disgusted, one of the corners of his lips quirks up. “I wouldn’t have said you’d be a peanut butter kind of guy.”

“What type of guy would you say I was then?”

You don’t know, you still don’t even know his name, let alone his preference in chocolate. You don’t even know if he’s talking about chocolate, the tone of his voice could be him hinting at wanting to hear you tell him more about what you think of him. But that would be ridiculous, he’s definitely talking about chocolate. You could take the easy road and say something flavoured orange or coffee, but you don’t do that. You turn to survey the rows of chocolate, humming as you think.

“Double decker,” you say.

“Nope. Never tried it, so I definitely wouldn’t pick it.”

“What?”

“I’ve never tried a double -”

“Yeah, I got that,” you cut him off, eyes still bulging at him. “What I should have said was, how?”

“I guess I just never bought one,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal. But it is. It is a massive deal.

“You do know what a double decker is, right?”

“Yes..?” He elongates the word, his tone suggesting he doesn’t understand the question.

“Are you not a fan of nougat?” You persist as if he has just declared he hates your mother and you need to find out why.

“Nougat is good.”

“What about cereal, or wheat, or crunchy bits, or whatever that crispy stuff is.”

“Crispy stuff is good,” his tone remains level, but you can see the amusement glowing in his eyes.

“Ahh I get it,” you say like a light bulb has just lit above your head. “You don’t like fun.”

The man’s eyes open wide in surprise, eyebrows going up his forehead. But his smile only widens at the words.

“Well then, it’s decided,” you carry on. “I’m buying you one.”

You turn to the shelf and pick up the chocolate bar in question. He doesn’t try to stop you, doesn’t say that you don’t need to buy him anything. You take his silence to mean he accepts the offer and it brings you more joy than it should. Money was always a weirdly touchy subject with you.

“In that case.” He steps forward and starts scanning the shelf. You realise what he’s doing straight away.

“Oh, you’ll struggle to find any chocolate I haven’t eaten,” you say with pride in your voice.

He hums, looking at you as if reading you, nodding his head lightly. “Ok,” he says before turning and walking away from you without another word.

It takes you a second to trail after him. A second where a part of you wonders whether that was it, whether you had done something to ruin whatever it was you two were. A second where you wonder if he wants you to follow him. But you push those worries away and do a small jog to catch up with his retreating figure.

He doesn’t speak as he wonders around the store, his head looking down each aisle as if he knows exactly what he’s looking for, just doesn’t know exactly where it is. He turns down the penultimate aisle and you look at the sign indicating what is there; crisps, soft drinks and bread.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’ve probably tried most types of crisps too,” you say to his back, but he ignores you.

Finally he comes to a stop. You stop a foot away, staring at the shelf, trying to work out what it is he’s going to pick for you. His hand reaches out and plucks up a small green packet. He turns and holds it out to you expectantly.

You take the packet from him as if it’s a bomb. Fingers light as your eyes take in the words.

“Jalapeno pretzels?” Your eyes drag up to meet his.

“Well?” He asks. “Have you had them?”

You look back down at the packet as if you need further clarification.

“Nope, I can’t say I have.”

Long, ringed fingers reach out and snatch the packet back, grazing you only slightly, but sparks blossom at every point.

“Then it’s decided, I’m buying them for you.”

You smile broadly at him, unable to contain the glee at whatever game you seem to be playing. The man only stares at you. The amusement is still clear in his eyes, but his facial features remain flat. You can imagine most people wouldn’t be able to see that he’s just as delighted as you are now, but you aren’t like most people.

“Let’s hope I like spice,” you reply.

“You will,” he replies confidently.

He gives you another long look, another look that makes you feel like he’s reading your soul. And then he holds up the items in his arms.

“Well, I’m going to pay,” he says and then for the first time he sounds less certain of his words. “If you’re done, that is.”

[lloydskywalkers]

planetary go

me: hey this would be a great time to actually do some of that oc development I’ve been planning for the last two years

also me: lloyd has no good very bad spiderman day

i’ve had this in my drafts for...over a year now, i think?? it’s entirely self-indulgent and i was very much committed to never posting it ever, but it’s oc day, so. maybe i will leave it up for five minutes before hiding it again gdhjkfg

(for background, the oc is Rachel, who’s Brad’s friend from school and a useless nerd, and one day i’ll actually take the ideas i have for her further, but today she’s just a kid who got her hands on an axe)

In theory, bringing Lloyd on their school’s annual planetarium field trip sounded like a great idea. Brad’s been trying to get Lloyd to hang out with them in a normal setting for forever now, and he knows that, as much as Rachel secretly enjoys waving at Lloyd during life-or-death situations because deep down she’s an adrenaline maniac, he also knows she’s been wanting to have five minutes of peace and normality with him as well.

As for Lloyd, Brad’s pretty sure he doesn’t even know what that is, but there’s always time for a learning curve.

Plus, Lloyd deserves it. As soon as Brad managed to get wind that the only education his friend’s had is Darkley’s — which is a tragedy, honestly — he’d started scheming a way to sneak Lloyd into his school. Only for the fun stuff, of course — he’s not about to subject Lloyd to the horrors of Pre-Cal, or AP Physics.

A field trip, though, is perfect. All the fun parts of school, without the actual busy work or potentially anxiety-inducing memories of school hallways. Sure, the planetarium their school insists on visiting is boring as it gets, but it’s still better than math class. It’s a full hour-long bus ride away, too, which means that by the time the teachers or the ninja catch wind what’s happened, they’ll be home free.

(Well, Brad thinks so. If Lloyd didn’t end up clearing this trip with the ninja and snuck out instead, he’s not sure their school bus is up to outrunning a bunch of dragons. It’d be funny to watch, though.)

The point is, it had been a great idea, until Rachel went and fell asleep in the first five minutes. Which would’ve been fine, except Lloyd took one look at her and decided that he liked the idea of being asleep too, so now Brad’s lost two friends to naps, and he kinda needs them awake, because hour-long bus rides are boring.

He eyes the two where they’re sleeping in disdain. Some friends they are. He contemplates shoving them both off the school seats for a second, and watching them sprawl all over the floor like a pair of idiots, but he decides against it. Lloyd’s packing a little too much power, and he’s seen Rachel when she’s angry. Also, he watched the news report this morning, and he knows the kind of night Lloyd had. Brad’s still trying to figure out how he doesn’t have ugly bruising all up the left side of his face, much less a decent night’s sleep.

Nah, he’ll let them sleep for now. He can read Lloyd’s comics in the meantime, since he doesn’t have school books. Brad can be nice, when he wants to. Not that it’s going to make up for the hour long bus ride on his own, but he can suck it up this once, he supposes.  

If only that had been the worst of his problems today.

*********

“This is a terrible plan.”

“What do you mean?” Brad’s eyebrows furrow. “This was your plan.”

“Well, yeah, okay, fine, but I mean—” Rachel shrinks in her seat, still rubbing sleep from her eyes as she glances around at her classmates on the bus warily. “I didn’t really think it through,” she mutters.

Brad rolls his eyes. “Kai’s not gonna find out, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, it’s not Kai I’m worried about,” Rachel scoffs. “I figured that out. Lloyd was right, Kai’s just a big softie. It’s Nya you gotta worry about.”

Brad scoffs. “Wimp.”

“Fine, you can face her down when she comes at us with all the wrath of god for hijacking Lloyd for the day.”

Lloyd shifts guiltily where he’s crammed in the seat between them, jacket hood pulled over his head, as it that’s gonna hide who he is. “I don’t have to come, guys.”

“Yes, you do,” Brad immediately responds.

“We want you to come,” Rachel says, emphatically.

“You can’t just ditch us, you’re the only exciting part of this dumb field trip,” Brad adds. “Plus, it’s like, way too late to back out now. We’re ten minutes from the planetarium, you should’ve spoken up earlier.”

“You deserve a normal day out,” Rachel steamrolls over Brad. “You’re coming.”

“Okay,” Lloyd says, still unsure as he glances around. He’s starting to wonder how, exactly, he managed to sleep through the better part of this trip. The West Ninjago High school bus is chaos incarnate, the high school students crammed in the seats all chattering loudly and occasionally chucking everything from straws to entire notebooks at each other.

Maybe he should get his reflexes checked, he thinks dully. Then again, it’s not like the school bus is an immediate threat. It’s pretty nice, actually — a lot nicer than the buses they used to have at school the guys taught at, at least.

“We do need to work on your disguise, though,” Rachel mutters, surveying his outfit. Lloyd tugs anxiously on the school jacket Brad lent him, the dark blue fabric scratchy and uncomfortable. Luckily, Brad and Rachel’s school doesn’t require a uniform, so his casual outfit blends in just fine. The jacket’s just a field trip requirement.

Why he’s crashing their field trip, he’s yet to figure out, but they’d made it sound fun, and he hadn’t had anything better to do today, so Lloyd Garmadon’s now Brad’s distant cousin from Metallonia. They haven’t decided on his fake name yet, because Rachel wants to use Luke Skywalker, and while Lloyd isn’t great at going undercover, he’s not that bad.

“Here,” Rachel says, rifling through her backpack. She pulls out a pair of glasses, unfolding them and handing them off to him. “The lenses are fake, don’t worry.”

Lloyd stares at the glasses in his hands. “This is my disguise?”

“Yeah,” Brad nods. “Like Clark Kent.”

“Clark Kent has the most obvious disguise ever.”

“Yeah, but no one ever finds him out.”

“Because it’s the comics. This is my life. Something’s gonna go wrong.”

Rachel doesn’t seem to share his concerns, pushing the glasses toward his face. “Just put them on?”

Lloyd sighs, complying. He slides the glasses on, frowning at the unfamiliar weight. “There,” he grumbles. “How do I look?"

Brad snorts, but he gives him a thumbs up. Rachel turns a weird color and coughs quickly, before saying what Lloyd’s pretty sure is “they’re alright”.

He’ll take it.

“So I’m good to go?” he asks, glancing at the teacher up front anxiously.

Brad and Rachel stare at him. Lloyd isn’t a fan of the looks on their faces.

“Well, you’re gonna have to…talk with your mouth closed a little more,” Brad winces. “The uh, the teeth.”

Lloyd shuts his mouth tightly. Right. His genetics.

“And um…” Rachel bites her lip. “Is there any way you could, like…turn the brightness down?”

Lloyd frowns. “The what?”

“The uh—“ Rachel gestures to her own dark brown eyes. “The eyes.”

Lloyd folds his arms, glaring at them. “This is part-human discrimination.”

“It is not—“

“Yeah, the only part we’d discriminate you for is the lame part—“

“We’re just trying to make sure no one figures out you’re a big ninja celebrity!”

Rachel immediately claps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Lloyd sinks lower into his seat, and Brad cringes.

“Sorry,” Rachel whispers.

Fortunately, no one else seems to have overheard, or they simply just don’t care. Lloyd straightens up a bit, still wary, but he uncrosses his arms.

“Yeah, I get it,” he sighs. He closes his eyes, focuses briefly on the thrumming power that’s always in his veins, then opens them.

Rachel looks guilty, and Brad snorts.

“They’re, um, they’re red now.”

Lloyd bites back a curse. “Darn it.”

By the time they reach the planetarium, Lloyd’s finally got his eyes to stay a color Rachel says could be normal, and Brad says is lame. Lloyd’s eyes are itching, and he’s starting to have seconds thoughts about this, because the kids in the seat across from him are giving him weird looks.

“D’you think they recognize me?” he asks Rachel under his breath, pulling his hood back up over his head.

Rachel looks over, and her lips pinch. “I don’t think so,” she says. She gets a weird look on her face. “I think they just…like you.”

“Like me?” Lloyd frowns. “They don’t even know me. I haven’t even said one word to them.”

Rachel stares at him, the weird look replaced by a blank one. “Lloyd.”

“Yeah?” he blinks.

“Never mind,” Rachel sighs, and Brad snickers. “Hey, we’re here.”

Lloyd’s stomach does a little flip, which is ridiculous, because he’s faced things ten thousand times more terrifying than a field trip.  Maybe it’s the fact that he’s got a miserable track record with disguises, and really just acting in general?

Yeah, that could be it, Lloyd thinks. He never could pull off accents, unless you wanted like, an Oni one, which was useless anyways, because any Oni would probably just kill him for being a blood traitor on the spot, and anyone else who heard it would go running for the hills, or lock him up, or—

“—c’mon, Lloyd, we’re going!”

Lloyd snaps back as Brad shoves at him, forcing him out of the seat and into the aisle. He stumbles in with the other high schoolers crammed in the bus, all fighting to get to the front exit first, and is immediately onset by claustrophobia.

“Move it, people, come on—” Rachel shoulders her way past him, shoving the people in front of them until they’re stumbling forward, gradually thinning up the crowd. “I hate this bus,” she grumbles beneath her breath. “It’s like a mosh pit, but without any of the fun."

“I can start kicking kneecaps in,” Brad offers.

Rachel glances back at him, unimpressed. Lloyd considers it briefly, before quickly schooling his expression into “unimpressed” as well. Brad deflates.

Rachel finally gets them out by sheer value of being taller than most of the other kids, and Lloyd can’t help but be grateful as she tugs him in front of her, letting him escape the bus first. This last about half a second, because he immediately comes face-to-face with their teacher.

“Uh. Hi,” Lloyd says, weakly, as the teacher frowns at him.

“I don’t remember you,” he mutters glancing down at his clipboard, where he’s been checking off students. “Do you sit toward the back?”

“Ah, no, sorry, he’s with us!” Rachel says quickly, coming to his rescue. “He’s a visitor, just checking out the school, y’know?”

The teacher narrows his eyes. “Is that so,” he says, and Lloyd shrinks under his gaze. “And you’re who, now?”

“He’s my cousin,” Brad answers for him. “Luh — Floyd. Floyd…Calrissian?”

Rachel makes a muffled sound of agonized exasperation. Lloyd has to violently stifle the urge to stomp on Brad’s foot.

“Yeah, Floyd,” Brad nods, steamrolling ahead. “He lives out of city, in, um…“

“Ignacia,” Lloyd says, seizing on the name.

“Ignacia, yeah!” Brad snaps his fingers. “You know how it is there, real small town. He’s checking out schools here, so I thought I’d…bring him along…for the day.”

The teacher stares at them all for a beat, then shakes his head, looking uninterested. “You’re supposed to check him in, you know, but we’re already here. Nothing for it now. Keep an eye on him, Tudabone. Miss Lennox, you keep an eye on them both.”

“Yes, sir,” Rachel says, ignoring the face Brad’s making. “Thanks, sir.”

She seizes both their arms, dragging them away before Brad can make any kind of undoubtedly snarky remark. Lloyd’s too relieved to be out of the teacher’s stare to complain about being manhandled — he hadn’t realized how much he didn’t like teachers. Real good to know that he’s scarred for life thanks to Darkley’s, apparently.

“I thought you were gonna be from Metallonia,” Rachel hisses at him as they pass through the sliding doors, interrupting his train of thought.

Lloyd bristles. “I blanked, okay? It was the first thing I could think of on the spot. At least I did better than Brad.” He glares at him. “Lafloyd? That’s my name now?”

“It’s better than whatever you could come up with,” Brad shoots.

“Really?” Rachel turns on Brad. “‘Cause — Floyd Calrissian? Seriously? And you gave me heck for wanting to call him Luke.”

“Whatever, Miss Lennox, snooty teacher’s pet—”

“Oh, just ‘cause I didn’t spray-paint the teacher’s lounge—”

“Hey, here’s a fun idea, why don’t you drop it.” Lloyd glares at them both, immediately silencing them. Rachel makes a face, but her cheeks darken, and Brad glances at the floor. Lloyd watches his sneakers on the linoleum, where bright colored solar systems have been inlaid in fun little patterns.

“Lafloyd is a funny nickname,” Rachel suddenly remarks, quietly.

Lloyd stares at her, hoping it conveys the utter, crushing betrayal. Rachel just grins brightly back at him.

“Lafloyd Calrissian, from Metallnacia,” Brad snickers, and Lloyd feels a headache coming on.

At least it’s not Lloydkins, he tries to convince himself. Floyd is not the most awful option here. It could be worse.

*********

The planetarium is actually pretty cool, more so than Brad was selling it as when he termed it “the most boring school trip conceived”. The domed, dark room is quiet and comfortable, and Lloyd could go for a really long nap in here, if time permitted. But then the ceiling lights up in constellations and the teacher starts introducing some visiting Serpentine professor, and Lloyd figures taking another nap would probably be rude. He’s here to hang out with Brad and Rachel, after all, he can’t sleep through the whole thing.

Plus, astronomy is fun, now that he’s getting to actually learn about it from a nice planetarium seat, as opposed to hurtling through space on a nindroid spaceship in a desperate attempt to stop the Overlord from ending the world.

Not that it’s going to stop him from bragging about it.

“I’ve been on an asteroid,” Lloyd remarks under his breathe, as the professor starts detailing the orbital paths of comets. “It’s not as cool as it sounds.”

Rachel chokes where she’s sitting beside him, coughing out what might be a laugh. Brad stares at him, before casting his eyes to the ceiling digging his hands in his hair. “Of course you have,” he mutters. “Why not. Been to six different realms, what’s one asteroid?”

“You’ve been to other realms?!” Rachel hisses, looking equal parts flabbergasted and wildly interested. “Which ones? What were they like? Did you make it to that one that’s supposed to have fire-breathing dogs?”

“Shh!”

All three of them shrink in their seats as the teacher hushes them. Lloyd swaps looks with Brad, who’s already smirking at the familiarity.

Lloyd grins back, a bubble of happiness rising in his chest. His recently-rebuilt friendship with Brad has been slow-going at best — mostly because of how busy Lloyd’s schedule always is — and he’s been quietly fearing that the bridge their friendship was built on might’ve been a little too burned to build back. That there’s too much distance between them now, with how different their lives are.

It’s nice to proven wrong, he thinks. In fact, this entire field trip thing was a good idea, in hindsight. He’s having a pretty good—

The back door slams open with an almighty crash, and several shrieks ring out as a frazzled, deranged-looking man in a stained lab coat stands highlighted in the doorway, one accusing finger pointed toward the Serpentine lecturer.

“And you thought you could escape me, you halfwit snake.”

—oh for crying out loud.

“You,” the lecturer says, his face paling as he takes a noticeable step back. “You’re supposed to be in prison.”

“It didn’t agree with me,” the man cackles, his expression manic under the spiraling lights of the solar system. Brad and Rachel’s classmates are rooted to their seats, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes like some terrible soap opera. Their teacher’s kind of just gaping at the entire thing, like he can’t believe this is happening. Lloyd can completely sympathize.

“Should we call the police?” Brad whispers uncertainly, his eyes wide.

“No way, the police are useless,” Rachel hisses back. “Lloyd, use your zappy power-thing.”

The crazy guy continues before Lloyd can form a response. “So you’ve regressed to teaching now, have you? How the mighty have fallen.” A leer drags up the corners of his mouth, and Lloyd’s hair stands on end. Nope, he doesn’t like that—

“Luckily for you, I perfected the serum even without your help,” the guy continues, and the lecturer makes a strangled sound of horror as he pulls out a syringe. “Or unluckily for you, I should say."

The deranged man then grins, looking entirely too unhinged, and Lloyd’s stomach drops. He’s on his feet before his brain can catch up, ignoring Brad and Rachel’s yelps of alarm as instinct wired into his limbs drives him towards the guy before he can do anything, because Lloyd knows that look and he’s definitely going to do something—

“This is the turning point, old friend,” Crazy Guy hisses. “Now, no one will ignore me, ever again!”

He raises his hand, the syringe glinting in the dim lights of the planetarium. Lloyd puts on a burst of speed, mere yards from the guy, if he can just—

“Lloyd, wait!”

The man slams the needle into his arm, injecting the vivid purple right into his bloodstream. Lloyd reaches him just as the last of the liquid’s draining, launching himself from the top of one of the seats as a student screams, and kicks the syringe into an arching spiral away from his arm.

Oh, mistake. Big mistake. The guys gives a loud shriek, and the slight change in air pressure is all the warning Lloyd gets.

He whips back around to the students, eyes wide as he screams a warning. “Get down—!”

There’s a spectacular purple flash, and Lloyd goes flying, hurtling backward and smashing through an entire row of seats. This wouldn’t be so bad, except then his head cracks against something entirely too solid, and Lloyd’s vision goes out in bright, incredibly painful fireworks.

On second thought, this was a bad idea, is his last conscious thought, before the fireworks go dark.

*********

Lloyd jolts back into awareness to a throbbing pain in his head, and a feeling similar to someone trying to tear his arms off. He moans, blinking hazily as sound filters back in with consciousness, the unfortunately familiar sound of panicked screaming and destruction filling his ears.

That’s a bad sign, he thinks dizzily.

“Oh, thank FSM — he’s waking up! Lloyd, Lloyd, can you hear me?”

Brad finishes this last statement by yelling it in his face, and Lloyd flinches back, his head pounding.

“Stop that, you’re hurting him!”

He registers that as Rachel’s voice, coming from near his left side. He cracks his eyes back open, trying to get his bearings, and realizes that he’s being dragged forward. The pressure on his arms must be Rachel and Brad’s grip where they’ve got them slung over their own shoulders, they’re hauling him away from — from what?

“The crazy scientist guy lost it,” Rachel explains, her breath coming in sharp pants. “I think he’s got some big grudge against the lecturer, or something? Like, really intense drama—”

“That’s not the point!” Brad hisses. “He just turned himself into a freaky lizard monster, how are you not focusing on that?”

“Details are important!” Rachel snaps back, flinching as something explodes from behind them.

Lloyd blinks again, trying to get his dazed brain to work with him again. His first thought is, I didn’t know I was Spider-Man.

His second thought is that he needs to get with the program, now.

“Where’d’e go,” Lloyd slurs out as he yanks his arms from their hold, stumbling briefly before he finds his balance. He wavers as a searing pain slices through his head, and he grits his teeth, pressing a hand to his temple as he takes quick inventory. Other than his head, everything else seems to be in working order, he finds with relief.

Which is a really good thing, because it sounds like mutated science guy is about to try and start snacking on high school students like popcorn shrimp.

“He’s still back in the show room, but — Lloyd, you need to sit down,” Rachel says, her hands flitting toward his head anxiously.

“Yeah, you hit your head bad,” Brad echoes, his eyes wide. “I mean, the crack was epic, but you were passed out for like, ten minutes or so, which is bad.”

“M’fine,” Lloyd waves them off, blinking in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Here,” he shoves his phone into Brad’s hand. “Call the guys if I’m not back in fifteen, okay?”

Brad and Rachel stare at him like he’s lost his mind, their eyes wide and faces pale. Which is rude, they could at least try and have some confidence.

“Lloyd—”

“I got this,” he says, and gives them a thumbs-up. Or he’s pretty sure he does, his vision is still doing that weird wobbling thing again. “I do this like, every day, guys. Just get somewhere safe, okay?”

Before either of them can protest, Lloyd takes off sprinting back to the show room, where the worst of the roaring is coming from. He grinds his teeth as another chorus of screams ring out, green light already flashing at his fingertips.

No luck. He’s got no luck at all.

*********

“We’re so dead.”

Rachel doesn’t even respond. She’s just standing there, rooted to the floor while their classmates run screaming past them for the doors, her fists clenched.

“His team’s totally gonna kill us,” Brad continues, trying to stifle mounting panic. “Kai’s gonna roast me alive. We’re gonna die.”

Rachel still doesn’t answer, staring after where Lloyd disappeared, her jaw working.

Brad shakes his head, flinching as another roar echoes from the back. “Let’s go.” They should probably at least honor Lloyd’s final wishes, he thinks, dizzily.

Rachel shakes her head. Brad’s stomach begins to sink.

“Rae, come on,” he implores. “We gotta go, Lloyd said—”

“No,” Rachel cuts over him, and Brad’s stomach finishes sinking right to his shoes. There’s something dangerously stubborn in her eyes. “We can’t just abandon him,” she continues. “Friends don’t leave other friends to fight crazy mutant lizard monsters on their own.”

Brad gapes at her. “Uh, yeah they do, if one friend is a super-powered ninja, and the other two are just average joes!”

Rachel whirls on him, and his sputtering dies in face of her glare. “Brad, it’s just Lloyd, all on his own! And he’s already concussed, he needs our help!”

“What help?” Brad throws his arms out, helplessly. “What are we even supposed to do?! We don’t! Have! Powers!”

A high-pitched explosion echoes from the back, as if to emphasize his point.

“Didn’t you go to a school for evil masterminds?” Rachel snaps back, and Brad flinches. “Use your brain, come up with something!”

Brad sputters at her, but she’s darting off before he can reply, fiddling with something on the wall. Brad fists his hands in his hair in frustration, trying to formulate an explanation that while he did, of course, go to a school for evil kids, he never actually got to the part where they taught him how to fight, much less defeat giant mutated lizards, and he has no idea what to do about it. If they were going to be of any help to Lloyd, they needed to make sure they weren’t giant liabilities, first off, and then they’d have to find out what the scientist had actually done to himself, and if there was a way to reverse it.

“And we’re gonna have to — holy FSM, is that an axe?”

“Yup,” Rachel says, testing the weight and swinging it briefly. “It is.”

“Where did you get an axe?!”

“From the glass box for fires and emergencies, duh.” She swings it again for emphasis, then nods in satisfaction. Brad jumps a foot back.

“Don’t you want to be a doctor?” he yelps. “What happened to ‘do no harm’?”

“That thing is trying to eat Lloyd,” she snaps. “So yeah, I’m gonna do some harm. Are you coming or not?”

Another explosion goes off from the halls inside the planetarium, and two of the kids on the basketball team run by screaming. Rachel blows her breath out, sets her jaw, hoists the axe and takes off after the high-pitched sound of Lloyd’s powers.

Brad looks at the exit, then back at the hallway of doom. He brings his foot down hard, and groans. “I — you — gah, we’re so gonna die.”

He grabs the fire extinguisher and heads after his friends.

*********

On the bright side of things, Lloyd’s managed to get all the high schoolers and their dumbstruck teacher out of the show room, and hopefully they’re now running to safety. He got the poor lecturer out too, even if it was a ridiculously close call and he’s gonna look like a rabid lizard attacked his right shoulder the next two weeks. Now the only ones duking it out in the room are Lloyd and Mr. Crazy Lizard Guy, so the chances of collateral have gone down, at least.

On the significantly less bright side, Lloyd might actually be losing this fight. He’s not sure, because the room’s pretty dark and the only real light is from some distant solar system the ceiling’s still whirling them through — which is really not helping with his headache, or spinning vision — but the fact that Lloyd, trained ninja that he is, hasn’t already obliterated this desk-job half-insane scientist is a bad sign.

As it turns out, fighting half-concussed just isn’t Lloyd’s strongest point. Which is dumb, because you’d think that by now, he’d at least be used to it.

“Infuriating child, why won’t you die—!”

Lloyd yelps, twisting aside as the mutated lizard-guy takes another swipe at him, razor-sharp claws whistling through the air where his head just was. Lloyd powers up a burst of green to retaliate, only to look back up and find that there are now three lizard monsters swimming in his vision, warping and swaying like snakes.

He shakes his head, desperately trying to re-focus, but it’s a fatal hesitation. The next swipe lands solidly against his side, and Lloyd cries out in alarm as he’s sent flying again, slamming into the auditorium seats before tumbling to the floor.

“Ow,” he coughs into the carpet, propping himself up with his arms and trying not to throw up. He’s going to feel this tomorrow — and look it too, probably. Man, the others are gonna kill him—

Scaled claws suddenly slam into the floor next to him, and Lloyd yelps, flinching back and craning his head upwards.

“Next time, know your place,” Crazy Guy hisses through jagged teeth, eyes flashing in deadly intent. Lloyd’s brain slams into panicked instinct, and he grasps at his powers, preparing to blast the entire room—

Thwack.

Lloyd stares with dinner-plate-sized eyes as Rachel appears from nowhere, swinging an axe straight into the mutated man’s raised arm with a wild shriek and a startling amount of force.

“Go to hell, you maniac—!”

Her next hit finds a shoulder, and before Lloyd can blink the guy’s scaly right arm is gashed open, his mouth open in an agonized howl as he staggers back. Rachel’s eyes are wild as she gasps heavily, brandishing the axe like a baseball player gearing up to swing. Lloyd manages to gape for a good three seconds before someone’s hands are pulling him to his feet, dragging him back.

“Move, move you moron!” Brad’s yelling, as he slings Lloyd’s arm around his shoulder and retreats. It takes Lloyd another second to realize he’s not yelling at him.

Rachel is still staring at the monster, her face pale and axe held aloft, frozen by shock. Or terror, either one’s fair game.

Lloyd snaps himself out of it, shrugging off Brad as the world swims again. He darts forward, grabs Rachel by the hand and pulls. He snags Brad as they go, hauling tail away from the still-howling scientist and throwing them behind the control podium at the back of the room, just barely sliding in behind them and out of lizard guy’s sight.

“We’re gonna die,” Brad gasps, his dark hair a frazzled mess. “It’s been real nice knowing you guys, we had a good run—”

“We are not gonna die,” Lloyd hisses, blinking black dots from his vision, That’s probably a bad sign. He shakes his head, fixing them both with a glare. “What are you guys doing?! I told you to get somewhere safe!”

“What, and let you die?” Rachel whispers back hotly, her hands still shaking around the axe she’s clutching, an odd green liquid dripping from the blade that Lloyd doesn’t wanna think about right now. “You were getting trashed out there!”

“No I wasn’t!” Lloyd defends. “I was just—”

“You think you can stop me?!” Crazy Guy’s voice roars across the room, and Lloyd pulls Brad and Rachel closer to him, ducking down lower. “Insignificant children, you’ll be the first to fall to my reign!”

“Wow, he’s really gone off the deep end,” Brad mutters, as if that, of all things, has jolted him from his ‘we’re gonna die’ mindset.

“I told you, huge grudge,” Rachel murmurs back.

Lloyd briefly wonders just how, exactly, he managed to end up with two utterly insane people as friends, then remembers who he is.

“Okay,” he breathes, pressing a hand to his throbbing head again and squeezing his eyes shut. “Plan. Need a plan. Um.”

“We got one,” Brad offers, exchanging looks with Rachel. “Uh, sort of.”

Lloyd looks between the two of them, trying to ignore how they suddenly blur into four of them.

Rachel makes a face. “Brad’s going to hack the light system and we’re going to get really, really annoying.”

Lloyd stares at them. “Absolutely not.”

Brad and Rachel glare back stubbornly, the planetarium lights dancing over their faces, their expressions set in shaky determination as the lizard guy continues to tear the room apart, searching for them. Lloyd’s hit by another vicious wave of anxiety. Brad and Rachel aren’t his team. They’re just — they’re just people, his friends, maybe, but civilians, he can’t ask them to—

“It’ll be fine,” Rachel assures him, the effect somewhat ruined by the manic way she’s clutching her axe. “I’ll be your eyes, so you’ll actually know where to shoot.”

“You can throw that axe at him, too,” Brad mutters, eyeing it warily.

Lloyd shakes his head. “No. No way, it’s too dangerous. You guys are gonna run, and I’m going to take care of him myself, because it’s my job.”

Brad and Rachel have those glares on again. “Sorry, Lloyd,” Brad says, with a burst of confidence Lloyd really wishes didn’t exist. “This isn’t Darkley’s. Friends don’t bail on each other. Also, you’re obviously gonna die if we don’t help out. No offense.”

Lloyd puffs his cheeks up with air, then slowly blows his breath out. This is an awful idea.

But he’s to the point where he’d admit that he’s concussed to Nya, and that means he needs all the help he can get.

“Okay,” he sighs, heavily. “Okay, but one rule — you are all staying far behind me.”

*********

Rachel breaks the rule in the first five seconds, but it’s only to stop Lloyd’s skull from getting banged up any further, so he’ll let it slide for the time being.

Also, he’s too busy trying to listen to her harried shouts over Crazy Guy’s enraged screaming to be mad at her now.

“Five — no, six o’clock!” she shrieks at him, tugging on his shoulder to move them out of the way. “Six o’clock, ten feet!”

Screwing his eyes shut against the dizzying lights, Lloyd hurls a streaking ball of energy where Rachel’s told him, and is rewarded with a screeching cry of pain.

“Nice!” Lloyd winces as Rachel yells directly in his ear. “Sorry, sorry — you hit him dead on!”

“Please tell me he’s down.”

“Uh, I think he might — oh, nope, he’s getting back up, but he looks a little dizz—yyyy duck, duck!”

Lloyd grabs for Rachel’s hand and pulls her down with him, sending them both sprawling across the floor as a something large whistles overhead.

“He’s tearing up the seats and throwing them at us,” Rachel pants, sounding indignant. She’s got a death grip on his hand, which might hurt if she wasn’t shaking like she’d shotgunned energy drinks.

Lloyd gets it, even if his adrenaline high of terror is more because he still can’t see straight.

He can see enough to tell that the lights of the planetarium are still going berserk above them, flashing from panel to panel and lighting up the dark room in a dizzying kaleidoscope of changing skies. It’d be super cool if it wasn’t one) really disorienting, and two) taking place while a mutated monster of doom tries to murder high schoolers.

“Guys, get up!” Brad’s scream echoes from the control podium, where he’s spinning them through Ninjago’s nearest satellites now. Lloyd feels the floor vibrating a second before the lizard monster comes barreling toward them, screeching in fury. Rachel sucks in a sharp breath of horror, and Lloyd’s stomach drops as he runs into another row of chairs. Reacting half on instinct, he grasps Rachel by the arm, pulls her close, and gasps out a ‘hold on’ — then, briefly siphoning the green power — tosses her straight up in the air, soaring inches from the ceiling.

Lloyd barely registers Brad swearing in shock as Rachel screams, but he’s too busy counting the seconds as the lizard monster charges him.

One, two—

Lloyd sidesteps, wind whistling past him as he narrowly avoids being pummeled again—

Three, four—

Lloyd sends two screeching bursts of energy into the monster’s back, a howl of pain missing with a sizzling sound as he goes flying across the room—

Five—

Lloyd skids back into place, and throws his arms out just in time to catch Rachel as she comes screaming back down.

“Sorry,” he pants, carefully setting her on her feet. She’s rattling in place like a wind-up toy now, but Lloyd can just see her giving him a shaky thumbs-up through his spinning vision.

“L-little more warning, next time,” she gasps, sounding winded. “Would be nice.”

Lloyd feels a flash of guilt bubble up, followed by a helpless burst of frustration. She shouldn’t be anywhere remotely near this kind of situation, neither her or Brad — they’re his normal friends, he’s supposed to go on dumb boring field trips with them, not blow up half a planetarium in a fight for their lives.

Rachel suddenly goes rigid, then grabs his shoulders and pulls him back. “He’s up!” she yelps. “He’s coming, he’s rushing us—”

Lloyd can see that, through the dizzying lights of the nearest solar system. “Get behind me!” he orders, just in time to get sent flying by a torn-up chair the guy’s chucked at them.

A litany of curses streams through his brain as both him and Rachel cry out, and Lloyd barely has the sense of mind to wrap himself around her before they slam back into the floor, rolling several feet before Lloyd’s head slams right against the stairs with another solid crack.

So many aspirin, he thinks faintly, as the world pulses in and out in dizzying flashes of white. Gonna need so many aspirin tonight.

“—et up, Lloyd, come on—”

That’s Rachel’s voice, a vaguely functioning part of his brain notes. She sounds upset, all scared and worried, which is…that’s bad, right? Lloyd’s not sure, there are like, five of her all up in his face right now—

A roar sounds closely behind her, and Rachel’s expressions spasms in panic. Lloyd’s vision finally solidifies just in time fore her to throw herself over him, and panic screeches everything back into awareness, but it’s too late because the lizard monster’s right on top of them—

Another solid crack rings out across the room, but this time it’s not Lloyd’s head. Crazy Guy howls in pain as he staggers back, clutching his head where the fire extinguisher struck his temple. Lloyd stares blankly as Rachel shakily lifts her head, before Brad’s suddenly in front of them, grabbing them both by the arms and struggling to haul them up.

“Get up!” he yells, dark eyes wide but glinting in determination. “Don’t just lay there, you’re the green ninja, come on!”

“Shu’up,” Lloyd slurs, but Brad’s words are enough to cut through the hazy film inside his head. He staggers to his feet, highly conscious of Brad and Rachel supporting both arms. This is beyond humiliating, what kind of—

“Children.” The guttural hiss has all three of them freezing in place, hair standing on end as lizard-like eyes pin them in place, glinting yellow in the flashing lights. “All of you, infuriating bugs to be crushed beneath my feet. Your deaths will be the first in my new reign—”

Irritating monologuing aside, Lloyd can’t help but be grateful for the way the guy pauses to detail their deaths, because it gives him a split, beautiful second of clarity to finally send a concussive blast of green hurtling dead on. There’s a high-pitched shriek as it sends him flying, hurtling across the room and smashing into the bottom edge of the planetarium screen with a blinding burst of sparks.

“Now that’s more like it!” Brad crows, watching as the lizard guy flops to the floor. “That’s what you get for messing with us, you ugly—”

The lizard guy pushes himself to his feet, briefly swaying dizzily before turning furious, burning eyes on them.

Brad swallows. “Did I say ugly? Actually—”

Lloyd’s already gearing up for another round, green sparks lighting on his fingers as Rachel brings her axe up again — when an ominous cracking sounds from above them. Lloyd glances up, the frantic flashing of the cracking planetarium screen nearly blinding him, and his eyes go wide.

“Get down!” he cries, pulling Brad and Rachel and diving beneath the control podium. And not a moment too soon, because in the next second the entire planetarium screen comes crashing down with an exploding screech, large chunks of mangled ceiling smashing down on the guy, pinning him firmly in place.

Lloyd, firmly crushed between Brad and Rachel, but otherwise spared any further head trauma by the solid control panel sheltering them, gives a shuddering exhale of relief.

“Well,” Rachel finally says, with a shaky laugh. “You probably won’t have to worry about boring field trips here anymore, Brad.”

Brad makes a pained, weary sound of exhaustion, and simply buries his face in Lloyd’s shoulder.

*********

Lloyd’s used to the after-battle adrenaline crash, for the most part. Brad and Rachel, as it turns out, are not. Five minutes after the paramedics have stopped fussing over them, leaving all three wrapped in the ugliest orange shock blankets Lloyd’s ever seen, there’s a sudden weight on both of his shoulders. Lloyd blinks, his head swiveling to where Brad and Rachel are snoring on either side of him, then sighs, staring upwards. At least they’re warm, he tells himself, even though it’s starting to get hot under the shock blanket.

Despite the screaming sirens all around him and the frantic voices of the students, Lloyd’s almost tempted to drift off himself. With the loss of adrenaline, his head’s really starting to hurt by now, and the flashing lights of the ambulance aren’t helping his headache in the slightest. He’s just deciding that dozing off with his friends is a good idea, when a familiar sigh has him yanking his eyes open.

Lloyd immediately wants to close them again. Kai and Nya are standing in front of him, arms crossed in identical expressions of disappointment, though it’s tinged mild amusement.

“Hi,” he croaks. He glances between Brad and Rachel, still snoring peacefully against his shoulders. Traitors. “Um. You got my text, then?”

Nya gives him a careful, judging look. “A month. You’re grounded for a month, at least.”

“Oh, come on,” Lloyd moans. “I was living my teenage years. Having a normal day.”

Kai snorts loudly, glancing back at the smoke still rising from the planetarium. “Totally normal teenage stuff, huh.”

Lloyd drops his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “S’not fair,” he moans. “It’s not my fault trouble’s always following me.”

Nya’s expression eases up, and she shakes her head, uncrossing her arms. “Hey, we’ll have a normal evening back at home, okay?” She eyes Brad and Rachel, her lips quirking in amusement. “You can have a sleepover with your friends, or something. I’ll braid your hair.”

While the idea of anyone going remotely near his head sounds awful right now, Lloyd can’t help but smile back.

“Sounds like a plan,” he yawns. Anything to get them out of this parking lot. At least he knows what he’s missing out on with school, now.

Really, he doesn’t get the hype.

[sigritandtheelves]

guys i wrote a 500 word The Office fic for my students. it’s not TXF but it’s very silly and it was fun to write, set at the beginning of season 3 

I Feel God in this Chili’s Tonight

“Pamela-shamela-ramela,” Michael Scott drummed his index fingers on the edge of the reception desk. “You ready for your Dundee tonight? Hottest receptionist?” He winked.

“Oh,” she said. “No, I told you I can’t go.”

Michael stood up straight. This was news to him. “Pam,” like she was an idiot, “you have to go. It’s the Dundees. Everybody has to go.” His hands were on his hips.

“I can’t.”

At the seriousness of her expression, Michael became conspiratorial. He moved in, leaned over the desk. “Is this because of Jim? Is it because Jim’s not here?”

Face reddening, Pam shook her head. “No.”

“Because of Roy? Toby? Is it Ryan?”

“No, Michael, I’m not allowed in the Chili’s.”

Michael’s mouth fell open, and he tilted his head in confusion. “What are you talking about.”

“Because of last year.”

“The Dundees went great last year.”

Pam couldn’t help but smile, remembering. “Yeah. They did. But I guess I had a little too much fun because I drank a lot and then they told me I couldn’t come back.”

“You,” he said. “Pam Beasley. You got kicked out of the Chili’s.”  

She shrugged.

Again, he looked shocked, stricken. “God, if I could never eat at Chili’s again, I’d kill myself.”

Pam nodded. “Yeah. It’s pretty bad.”

She watched determination set in on Michael’s features as he thought of something. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming anyway.”

“What?”

Michael turned to the sales desks. “Ryan, I need you to go get me two boxes of hair dye and a slutty dress.” He turned back—“Pam, what’s your size?”

“What? Michael, no.”

“Yes! We’re going to put you in disguise, your new name is Paaa—tricia. Patricia Measley. And you’re a brunette.”

“Michael, I’m not dying my hair.”

Ryan hadn’t moved from his desk, but had swung around to face them. Dwight, however, was on his feet. “Michael, I can do this. Pam, your shoe size is eight and a half, right?”

“How do you know that?”

“Dwight, sit down, I asked Ryan.”

Ryan’s eyebrows were up in his hairline, but he still hadn’t moved.

“Michael, why don’t you just have the Dundees at a different restaurant?” This from Phyllis.

“What? No! No. It has to be Chili’s.”

“What about a wig?” Dwight asked. “I bet Oscar has wigs.”

“That sounds homophobic,” Phyllis added.

“Okay! I got it,” Michael said. “Wear that slutty top you tried on in the office last week and we’ll get you a hat and glasses. Dwight, give her your glasses.”

Pam’s face had fallen into her hands and she was shaking her head. Angela and Kevin had stood up to see what was happening.

“It did work for Clark Kent,” Dwight said, pulling off his glasses. “Try them on.”

—

In the end Pam attended the Ninth Annual Dundees in her regular cardigan, with her natural hair color, which Kelly had pulled back into a bun at lunch. Phyllis let her in through the back door of the restaurant ten minutes into the “ceremony.” None of the waiters or hostesses noticed.