#herosfoil

🌷 @herosfoil (lex); continued.

❝ honestly, given the current circumstances? yes, i would. but don't worry, lex: in case you'd forgotten, my first week as a waitress you ordered a capuccino and i brought you a frappé, no less. so, if you're feeling embarrased, just remember that. i'm sure you'll feel a little better. ❞ miss lana lang, homecoming queen, top of her class, and waitress with most plates broken in a day. what a stellar track record.

lana damps the cloth in cold water again before pressing it onto the burn, delicately, and a chuckle escapes her at lex's suggestion, ❝ deal. although you do know there's still a hot oven involved in that task, right? ❞ lana playfully remarks, a smile tugging at her lips as she reached for a band-aid, ❝ maybe i should give you a preemptive crash-course next time. but, for the record, you're not a clutz, lex: you're just...treading on uncharted territory. you must've had a pretty good reason to step out of your nespresso comfort zone. ❞ lana gives him a complicit smile, before carefully drying the area and slapping on the band-aid: he was all set, but first, there was something she wanted to bring up. ❝ i always wondered why you didn't send it back, the frappé: luthors don't usually strike people as the settling kind. ❞

After the stories she’s heard and half-believed, Ianthe half-expects it Gideon the First behind the slowly opening door—she’s always thought him a maniac, why wouldn’t he go after her now?—but it’s only a painted face that emerges from the shadows, into the shadows.

“Back to torment me more already?” Ianthe drawls, deeming it not worthy to move. Arms thrown to her sides, she faintly resembles a faithful of a past long gone that prays before an altar of a god gone much longer. Face up instead face down, however, bored instead of filled with holy communion and soft bedding underneath her back instead of stone floor. “And without knocking too, Harry?”

Everyone says Kiriona is undoubtedly her father's daughter, but she doesn't see it. It's in the eyes, they mention, but hers are gold like twin suns and his are black like the void that sleeps in the center of the galaxy, both similar only in their lifelessness. It's in the way you speak, or in the way you move, but isn't that a learned thing?

Ianthe says that she's stubborn like a donkey, and it had to take an insane amount of strong will to become The First Reborn (What the fuck did you just call me? Kiriona had returned back then), and Kiriona finds herself believing her sister-prince more often than she would the other people.

Now that she stands, arms crossed over her chest, staring up into the eyes that are supposed to be like hers, she decides that, in the end, that it's Ianthe's jabs that may have convinced her. Kiriona is very much a stubborn being, and today she is dead set on not following whatever plan her saintly (oof) father has in store for her.

Clark's smile is wide and wild as they ride to the city, electricity crackling under his skin that's only slightly to do with the red rock on his finger. Lex didn't seem as inclined to his usual mad racer style of driving, but that's okay. The afternoon sun is bright and warm, the car is comfortable and it's speakers can go LOUD, and the plane wouldn't leave without Lex's say so.

Lex left his wedding for him. He's giving Clark what was supposed to be his honeymoon.

Normally Clark would be feeling crushing guilt in equal measure to the heavy feeling of hope that maybe, maybe, he really is right about his suspicion their timers ran out when they met in the aftermath of Clark's arrival all those years ago.

Right now though?

All Clark feels is boundless delight at getting away with stealing Lex from Helen, at being whisked away and getting to keep Lex all for himself. No parents, no guilt, no Helen, no spaceships, no Lionel, no Lana or Chloe or Pete or Smallville to shake their heads in disapproval, none of it.

He can't help laughing when they board the plane. His first time flying and its a private jet. "Technically this is the wrong order for Pretty Woman-ing me, you know. You're supposed to have me in your hotel room first before taking me away on a mysterious trip." He says as he lounges into his seat, looking up at Lex. The smile is still there, wide and bright and joyful, though his eyes crinkle almost like when he's told a particularly silly joke.

Almost.

beautiful creatures prompts | accepting

His arms tighten just a little at the words, always careful not to hurt but wanting to feel and also be a solid reassurence. Clark curls around Lex as best he can where he's standing to press his face against Lex's neck. He can feel the strong pulse of Lex's heart this close, keeping the beat he can hear when he focuses in on it. Matching harmony to the one in his own chest.

beautiful creatures prompts | accepting

"No, I don't." He says, his tone flat with anger, annoyance, frustration.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath so that when he speaks again those emotions are pushed back from his voice. "But... I want to get it. I'm trying to get it."

shitpost text starters | accepting

Lex having a dark sense of humor is nothing new, but this one is a doozy. The thought of laughing feels supremely wrong, even though it IS funny.

He's not gonna laugh.

He's not.

He does have to bite his lips to keep the laughter and the grin threatening from leaking out, however.

shitpost text starters | accepting

Clark pinches the bridge of his nose, and feels like an old man as he mentally groans. Okay, fine, If Dick wants to be like that, Clark can play. One side effect of super-hearing, he's heard most slang, of multiple countries, in full context.