🔷 -> you're the bravest person i've ever known, said clark (@themanoftomorrow).

a dazzling smile reaches lana's hazel hues, light oozing off her porcelain pores as she turned to face him: the bliss of flattery distracts her from the gnawing feeling that she didn't agree with clark. not one bit, not even at all. but it's only temporary, and so lana is left spoiling that perfect sunset moment with the complicated truth brewing inside her, ❝ that's a comforting thought, specially coming from you, clark, but i couldn't point out a single reason why you'd rationally think that. ❞

it's the most subtle she manages to be when describing his personal bias towards her, but it's okay, because the silence settles in the barn for a moment: it feels peaceful, to be there with him, almost being able to hear dust settling and the sun finding its home behind the corn fields for one more day. WHY COULDN'T IT ALWAYS BE THIS EASY? TO BE CONTENT? ❝ for the record, you're the bravest person i know, and i'll tell you why: ever since we met, i've seen you go out of your way to do the right thing and help the people around you time and time again, without a moment of hesitation. that's not just brave, it's extraordinary. and while i'm aware you're not exactly the smug type, you should be proud of yourself. i know i am: it's an honor, to be your friend. ❞

Lisa Frankenstein "I can never, ever talk about it. For personal and legal reasons, and I also pinkyswore."

Jason huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “You don’t hafta be all condescendin’ ‘bout it.” He’s eleven, not some little kid—he hasn’t been a kid in a very long time—and he doesn’t appreciate being treated like one. A scowl twists his features, sullen and annoyed, but unable to just leave, because he has to do this stupid interview with this stupid reporter who’s stupid Bruce’s friend, now that he’s been adopted by the man.

Apparently, Mr. Kent—”call me Clark”—is the only one Bruce trusts enough for this. Trusts enough to leave Jason alone with him. Sure, they’re still in the manor, and he knows Bruce is lingering close by. Knows the man will come running if Jason starts yelling. This Clark guy wouldn’t be able to pull anything, if he were to try, but that doesn’t stop Jason from picking anxiously at the hem of his shirt sleeve. From kicking his heels steadily against the armchair he’s sitting on.

“Whatever. You don’t gotta admit you’re Superman; I already know.” It’s not like their conversation is being recorded or anything—Jason can speak freely here. And Clark is Superman. Bruce didn’t even have to tell him. Clark and Superman are basically best friends with Bruce and Batman respectfully, and they look exactly the same. It’s not rocket science, and Jason might not be Robin yet, but he’s still not an idiot. “For the record, just puttin’ on glasses ain’t a very good disguise.”

“It is.” He nods seriously, arms crossing over his chest. “Like it or not, Supes, I’m not telling you my source.” What Clark doesn’t know is that Jason’s source is actually one of the street kids he watches out for.

Julia—all of nine-and-three-quarters and scrappy as hell. He’s worked real damn hard to earn her trust, and if he goes back on it now, she’ll never forgive him, let alone ever trust him again. He’ll lose her, and she’ll truly be back on her own on the streets, with absolutely no one to care for her.

So, yeah. In this case, a pinkyswear may as well be law. One Jason has no intentions of breaking.

Shit My Friends Say in hawaiian shirts, we are all equal before god. [for cass fdhfjkrghjkfgr]

She has absolutely no idea what he’s saying, but she nods seriously anyways. His expression says serious, trust me, truth, but his body says teasing, playful. It’s strange, being around someone who plays little games like that with her. Not something she’s used to, but she thinks she likes it anyways. It’s fun. Silly. A stark difference from the serious and unhappy demeanor of everyone she’d been surrounded by when she was still with her father. Her finger traces lightly along the petals of one of the pretty flowers that decorate his shirt, before she looks up at him questioningly. It’s different to what he usually wears, and she wonders why the change.