that. is. paradoxical!

That said, I just want to put it out there that Jesse Eisenberg’s iteration is not of that class of Lex Luthor.

45 is an incompetent monster who is easily manipulated by those around him, by the media he consumes and the people who flatter him. 45 is either playing the most incredible game of Hamlet in history, or he is as I have described.

Eisenberg’s Luthor is basically the opposite of that. Eisenberg’s Luthor is a master manipulator, pulling strings of government officials and the media in order to push a violent agenda. His manipulations, in fact, succeed, because he acts from the shadows, with the kind of power that only money and manipulative skill can buy.

Basically, if you had to pick a member of 45’s administration as a real-life counterpart to Eisenberg’s Luthor, it’s not 45 himself you’re looking at.

Lex feels it when it happens, Clark spilling inside him -- a feeling he hadn’t realized he’d missed during his unintended celibacy these past few years.  It feels good, and while it doesn’t make Lex come, Lex doesn’t generally expect to come during sex -- he has masturbation for that, after all.

ok so I’ve started rlly getting into reading N52!lex and i cannot stop having n52-lex-is-secretly-really-attracted-to-and-eventually-in-love-with-n52-supes feelings. reasons:

HE WEARS HIS CAPE NOW. literally now that his clark is dead, n52!lex is wearing his cape and his emblem and my heart is broken

part of the reason he used to hate superman is that superman is like, an idealized version of manhood that lex wasn’t (n52 action comics vol. 1 gives me a slightly pudgy, energy-drink-slinging, gets-into-weird-deals-with-aliens-he-met-online lex; he is garbage and i love him). basically lex hates him in part because he’s too hot (hot damn)

i saw a spread from the most recent action comics issue and lex is so mad that he’s stuck with this superman that isn’t his, to the point of goading supes into punching him in the face

“I’d better be. I might make a point of it.”

Chewing on her lip, she leans back—on nothing, seated in empty air by levitation, uncaring to restrain her magic around one so viscerally aware of it already. “Baby pictures, too. Sonogram black-and-whites of that little kidney bean that’s worth far more than its weight in gold. Quite a keepsake, don’t you think?”

@thatisparadoxical

“The president, obviously.”

“You…got into an argument…with the president….on Twitter?”

Lex clings to Clark’s chest -- it’s been so long since he’s had sex, and sex has never felt like this, not remotely.  It’s addictive, he can feel it already in his blood.  He knows without having to be consciously aware of it that he will do this as often as Clark will let him, that he will need Clark, and his touch.

Lex doesn’t mean to corner Sean under the mistletoe, he promises – it was a total and complete accident.

But now that they’re here, he’s not entirely sure what to do.

Lex moans as Clark rolls his hips.  It feels -- it feels incredible.  Clark’s coiled steel body drives into him in a way that almost feels like a controlled car crash -- exhilarating, and the only good kind of violence there is.  He aches from the nails digging into his skin, but it feels better than anything ever has before.