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So Bruce goes and wheedles Lois (who here knows who Clark is), and would you look at that, Superboy has someone who actually gives a crap who doesn't wear a mask! And teaches him important life skills, like how to throw yourself out of windows like a boss to get interviews, and the correct way to interrogate people.
Because Lois Lane is A BADASS and deserves representation on Earth-16, yo.
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“I’ve been fine without one,” Superboy replied, arms crossed. He was wearing the only men’s shirt Lois had in her apartment - Clark’s, unsurprisingly, one of his terrible old sport shirts that were a little too tight on him. It hung on Superboy, too big in the shoulders, and he seemed uncomfortable in it.
“Really?” Lois said, crossing her arms, and Superboy shifted. “Don’t you want one?”
“No,” Superboy mumbled, eyes downcast. “Yes. Maybe - I don’t knowThe shout rang out loud enough to echo; it was a good thing her neighbors already hated her. The new dent in her wall - well, nothing a photo or two couldn’t cover up ( ... )
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At 11:05, Lois sent Conner to get her coffee. The fact that Clark was by the coffee pot at the time was only a plus.
At 11:07, the copy machine was no longer functioning. Clark had tripped over it in his attempt to escape. (Fortunately the Planet suffered major damage about five or six times a year, if they were lucky, and no one really batted an eye at a smoking copy machine.)
At lunchtime, Lois kicked open the restroom door.
“Lois!” Jimmy shrieked. He zipped up, horror written all over his face.
She jerked a thumb towards the door.
“Out,” she said.
“But -” he tried. “This is the men’s room“Out!” Lois said. She stood silently by while he washed his hands and slunk out the door, shooting her sad puppy ( ... )
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The Lois Lane version of "Look at your life; look at your choices."
BRB LOLING FOREVER
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I laughed so hard I have a headache omg
I need to fix my laugh
it hurts me too much
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“Is that so?” Lois asked around a mouthful of noodles.
“Except when he thinks I’m not looking,” Conner said, frowning. “Jimmy says he’s kind of shy.”
“Some people are shy,” Lois replied. “Pass the chicken?”
“Jimmy doesn’t have superhearing,” he said, handing it over. His frown turned thoughtful. “Those glasses aren’t as good a disguise as you think.”
Lois couldn’t help it; she set her chopsticks down and threw her head back laughing.
--
From: C.Kent@dplanet.net
To: L.Lane@dplanet.net
Subject: Is he adjusting okay?
The body of the e-mail was blank. Lois raised one eyebrow. She pushed her chair back her from desk, leaning around the partition until she could see Clark. He smiled sheepishly and waved at her. She rolled her eyes.
She fired back a quick reply: Fine, aside from the fact that my home computer is now plastered in cat macros. You could ask him ( ... )
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She was standing in front of what had been large windows, before the bullets had shattered them. Now they were gaping holes, and the early spring air made her shiver more than the rows of armed guards staring her down.
Conner bared his teeth, fists clenched, standing in front of her like a shield. She wasn’t sure if he was as bulletproof as Clark, and she didn’t intend to find out. Lois caught him by the elbow.
“When I say jump,” she hissed through her teeth, “you jump. No questions.”
He didn’t seem happy about it, but he nodded shortly.
The guards parted, and Victor Capricorn, CEO of Capricorn Industrial stepped through. Capricorn Industrial had started out in Gotham, somehow managed to not be blown to smithereens or otherwise utterly destroyed by the two million or so supervillains lurking in those alleys, and recently made the move to Metropolis. Honestly, Lois wished Killer Croc had gotten him ( ... )
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This was awesome!
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