#jon--s--kent

[loislanereporting]

It was Lois’ job to respond to scenes like this. It wasn’t the first time that she had been thrust into a dangerous situation as a member of the media. She had her camera around her neck, held up to get video footage of what could only be described as chaos as patients fled the Asylum. She was so focused on what was going on that as she slowly backed up she didn’t expect to step on someone, she expected to feel the curb.

Her surprise lasted only a second. “Jonathan Samuel Kent! What are you doing here?! You need to go home RIGHT now.”

| @jon--s--kent

[therapisttothedevil]

@jon--s--kent

“And that is how at your age if elements of mutations start to effect you emotionally, mentally or physically, it’s important to go and confide in someone you trust rather than trying to keep anything a secret.” Linda finished to an expected lukewarm applause from her teenaged audience before the teacher took over an informed everyone they could speak with ‘Dr. Martin’ if they wanted to before she left. 

Frankly she hadn’t expected any of them to want to talk to her but when a young man did approach she smiled in a friendly manner and stood (tying not to sign at the fact that the teenager was still taller than her). “Hi there, anything you want to ask me?”

[loislanereporting]

| @jon--s--kent

I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you And I think to myself what a wonderful world

[loislanereporting]

She couldn’t believe after everything, the tense hostage situation, being trapped inside the museum — that the thieves were forced to just — return everything and then they could basically just walk out.

It wasn’t so easy, but it seemed like it should have been more difficult than it was — but it felt like a blur.

She tugged her jacket around herself as she walked, quick, hurried steps. Her phone was dead, she had no way of checking on Clark or Jon but they were all she could think about. Where had they been? Had they not been in trouble they would have come — which meant they were in trouble. Having been trapped in the building she couldn’t get updates on what was going on in other parts of the city. She could smell smoke — she took that as a bad sign.

Something in her, a mom instinct, made her look up. “JON!” She literally jumped, waving her arms like an idiot and when he landed on the sidewalk she ran and tackled him in a hug. “Oh my god, are you okay? Where were you?!”

[loislanereporting]

@jon--s--kent sent 💭

Knowing you has been the best thing I have ever experienced. If I lost everything, I’d have the world because I had you. Never stop being my baby.

[loislanereporting]

| @mansuper | @jon--s--kent

Christmas pajamas.

[loislanereporting]

A Kent Christmas

Lois carefully carried a breakfast in bed type tray piled high with goodies. It had a big bowl of popcorn, a few different candies, a thermos with her world famous hot chocolate, and a mug of tea for her. She carried it into the living room where they had pushed all the furniture to the side and made a big bed in the ground with cushions and comforters; a Christmas Eve tradition from when Jon was small. “Did we decide on a movie?” 

Lois grins as she carefully kneels to set the tray down on their makeshift bed. “What do we think? All of our snack needs met?” She asks, standing up and looking around to see if there was anything else they needed before they opened their pajamas and a present.

@mansuper @jon--s--kent

[loislanereporting]

Merry Christmas from the very extra home of the Kents.

@jon--s--kent @mansuper