I miss when ads were a single click and then they’re gone. Now every ad has a minimum of three phases where you watch a video, exit the still frame of fake gameplay, and then exit the app download. That doesn’t even touch on the ones that forcibly take you to another app after opening a tab in safari without you ever touching the screen.
I hate advertising. I hate that you can’t do anything without companies jumping down your throat with mostly bullshit ads. I hate that billboards exist. I hate that every company unanimously decided to make their ads longer and longer. I hate that ad blockers try to charge you money and there are in app purchases to remove ads. I hate that my attention has become commodified. I hate that there’s nothing I can do about it.
Idc, normalize kink shaming. Cause y'all be using “don’t kink shame” and “it’s fiction” to excuse being into incest, pedophilia, cannibalism, etc. Like, be so fr, you ship a 14 year old with a 30 year, want to get railed by your dad and want to see two brothers f*ck each other. I don’t engage with things fictionally that I don’t like/wouldn’t want to do in real life. Yes, I’m judging you.
superman/clark kent x f!reader - you’re a photojournalist for the daily planet, and a good one at that. this leads to scrutiny and rumors from rival papers and misogynistic journalists who have a hard time believing you could get such good photos of the superman without having some sort of special access
or - you’re sick of people accusing you of sleeping with superman (which is insane), your sweet coworker clark comforts you, and you may even get some reassurance from the hero himself?
OR - just a fun fluffy self indulgent drabble because school is kicking my butt and I am majorly struggling to write rn (no like fr please send help)
w/c: 4.1k
the ever elusive metropolis superhero has- yet again- been captured in perfect precision by a certain daily planet photographer. the question remains- is this supposedly skilled young journalist truly just that good, or does she have a secret in with the cape-wearing conqueror?
"original." you grunt from where you're hunched over your desk, flicking through files on your computer as jimmy reads the article aloud to you and your coworkers. "a rework of the last three articles they put out."
"you really shouldn't let it get to you that much." jimmy chuckled from his own desk. this makes your shoulders tense a bit. maybe if you'd been having a better day you would've been able to brush off your coworker's mildly annoying remark, but alas.
"well when you start getting smear articles about how your photos are only so good because you're secretly sleeping with the green lantern, you can chime in jimmy." you spit, standing abruptly from your desk chair and clomping a bit dramatically out of the office. your short heels clack harshly against the hard floor as you round the corner to the break room.
it's empty but for one person sitting at the table in the corner. clark kent. his ridiculously tall frame makes the small table look miniature, like a child's playset, his legs splayed out awkwardly so his knees don't smack the underside of it.
you silently pass through, coming to a stop at the counter where a hardly full pot of coffee sits. at least it still feels hot. you swing open the cabinet overhead for a mug and can't help but let out the frustrated sigh that's been building inside your chest all morning. the bottom shelf is entirely emptied of mugs, only a spare selection left way higher than you can reach. you try anyway, pushing up on tip toes and grappling with a hand to no avail.
"here." a deep voice speaks from behind you, much closer behind you than you would expect, and startles you back flat on your feet. your shoulders hit something warm and hard, and before you can even begin to turn around a long arm clad in rolled up sleeves is reaching past your head and effortlessly retrieving a mug for you. you whirl around as clark sets it gently on the counter, sparing only the briefest of moments to meet your eyes and smile sweetly down at you before taking a step back. you realize you'd been holding your breath as you let it out shakily, cold office air of the planet that had previously been blocked by your coworker's broad frame swirling around your body and sending a small shiver up your spine.
"oh. thank you, clark." you say softly, hand absentmindedly going toward the mug as you stare back at him.
" 'course." he replies simply, shaking his head minutely as if there's nothing to it.
when you'd first started at the daily planet, you'd been thrown into an office of coworkers with drastically varying personalities. ones like jimmy and cat, who were very easy to get to know due to how much they liked talking. then there was lois, who you spent the first few weeks slightly skirting around because you were afraid she didn't like you. it turned out she just hadn't even realized you were a new hire, and when you actually had a conversation with her for the first time you became fast friends, close friends outside of work even.
but then there was clark.
clark, who showed up nearly thirty minutes late to work on your first day, stumbling in with a briefcase that was unzipped and holding onto an assortment of files for dear life as its owner bounded into the office. glasses half sliding down his nose, hair looking unkempt and tie... he wasn't even wearing the tie. that was hanging out of his briefcase too.
you had read clark kent's articles, a handful of them actually, before you'd been hired at the daily planet. lois's too, of course. she was the only reason you'd even heard of kent. they were good. seemingly well researched, thorough, sometimes a bit more biased than you'd prefer but, to be expected. he seemed like a hard worker, and a serious journalist.
so when the bumbling, giant mess of a man had come rushing into the planet so late that first day, you would never have guessed it was the clark kent whose articles you'd been reading. maybe an intern, or a higher up who didn't need abide by the guidelines of the work day. he'd clambered right on over to the empty desk next to the man who'd introduced himself to you as jimmy- and hadn't stopped talking since- and sighed deeply.
"rough morning, clarkie?" he'd asked, and you were much more eager to take the opportunity to actually start working and get out of the conversation than pay attention to the new face.
"something like that." the man sighed in response.
"don't worry, told perry you were out on a source run. i don't know if he actually believed me, but it at least got him to stop pacing your desk waiting for you to show up." jimmy clapped the man on the shoulder.
"thanks jimmy."
you were logging into the desktop computer that the chief of the daily planet, perry white, had told you would be your workstation. it seemed brand new, all shiny and untouched. a huge upgrade from the tiny, dark photographer's room you'd been shut away in at your last job. your attention was caught by a reflection in the computer screen as you typed, the large frame of the man who'd come bumbling into the office a few minutes ago approaching you.
you turned slowly in your office chair, eyes meeting deep blue ones as he came to a stop at your desk.
"hello." the man greeted you, hands shoved in his suit pockets.
"hello." you replied kindly.
"i'm clark. clark kent." he extended a hand then, and it took you an embarrassing moment to realize he was trying to shake yours. how gentlemanly.
"nice to meet you, clark kent." you smiled, introducing yourself in return. "i've read a few of your articles."
a wave of pleasant surprise seems to spark over the man's face, his eyebrows lifting over thick glasses and shiny smile reappearing. it's endearing. it makes you want to smile back.
"really?" you'd nodded. he'd smiled harder.
"yes. i enjoyed them. even the superman superfan ones." you'd joked with a wink. clark had blushed madly, which you'd chalked up to simply being teased about the number of articles he'd written about the anonymous hero.
that had been your first interaction with clark. and you'd decided that he wasn't quite so easy to pin down as some of your other coworkers. he seemed clumsy, distracted, a bit... haphazard. you learned he was from a small farming town and had only moved to metropolis a handful of years ago. that he was late to work nearly every day, and would often "go out for meetings" and never come back.
but you also learned that he was a hard worker, one of the most hard working at the planet. that he'd probably gotten that trait from working hard on his parent's farm his whole life. he was kind, like genuinely kind. brought people coffee when they hadn't stood up from their desk in hours, distracted perry with his own shortcomings when jimmy was late turning photos in, let lois yell at him when there was no one else in the office to be yelled at. and for all his clumsiness and tardiness, clark kent seemed to have a knack for always being exactly where you needed him to be.
you'd seen him drop his own things more times than you could possibly count, but if a cup slipped out of your hand or files began to slide off of your desk- there he was, large hands scooping them up before they could hit the floor.
he was quiet most of the time, nodding along or shaking his head in amusement when the rest of your coworkers told stories theatrically. you often caught yourself watching him in those moments, and could never quite put a finger on why. but he was sweet, never holding back from complimenting a submission you'd put in or giving the credit for his articles to "the fantastic pictures you'd given him to go along with it".
"hard day?" clark asked, tucking his hands into his pockets as you picked up the mug and tapped your nails against it rhythmically, simply for something to do with your hands.
"you could say that." you sighed. he extended you a sympathetic smile, and you turned to fill your cup with the break room coffee.
"there's some of that creamer stuff you like in the fridge." he spoke from behind you.
"oh, I think I finished it yesterday actually-" you began to reply, but then there he was right next to you again, holding an unopened carton of your favorite coffee creamer out to you. "oh." you laughed awkwardly, taking the carton from him and popping the cap open. "thank you. I don't know who restocked it. that's nice of them." you hummed, somewhat to yourself, lost in thought. you weren't aware of just how well clark could hear you- or just how closely he paid attention to things. simple, normal things really. like how your mouth pinched when you were in a bad mood or how you hunched over your desk when you hadn't slept well the night before and what you liked to put in your coffee.
"what's buggin' ya?" clark asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the table he'd previously been sat at.
you let out a long sigh, feeling your shoulders physically tense up at the question.
"it's nothing."
"it's not nothing."
you're quiet for a beat, and then another. and then you turn to look at him, mug clasped between both hands.
"they keep running those articles on me. I mean, it's not like they're putting my name or anything but. still. every time I get a few good shots- you know- actually do my job? they're accusing me of fucking a superhero. as if women can't just be good at what they do all on their own!" you add, voice a bit louder than you want it to be. when you meet clark's eyes, they're a bit wide, but he's trying his best to school his expression. "sorry, clark. I forget you're such a-"
clark huffs a laugh that stops your words in their tracks, and you realize you weren't even exactly sure what you were going to say. goody-two-shoes? something like that. you'd never once heard a curse word come out of clark kent's mouth.
"it’s okay.” he chuckles, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. his face turns a bit serious then though, and he looks off as if thinking deeply before speaking again. “i’m sorry. i saw the article today. i didn’t realize there had been so many of them. it’s wrong, and obviously completely untrue. not that you need me to tell you that of course.” he adds quickly at the end, as if worried to further offend you. you laugh softly now.
“no, it’s okay. i appreciate hearing it. thanks clark.”
“nothing to thank me for.”
your conversation is interrupted then- and you aren’t quite sure why a current of striking annoyance zips through you- when cat walks into the room to fill her own mug. you bid both coworkers a polite smile and head back to your desk to finish editing your photos for the day.
the end of the day finally draws in, and you bend to retrieve your bag from under your desk as the clock strikes five.
the smarting hit to your pride had softened slightly since you’d send the article about your photos this morning, but mild annoyance was still bubbling in the back of your mind. it certainly didn’t help that the planet was running a story on the man of the hour himself this friday, and you by no surprise had been tasked with capturing some new photos for it.
apparently clark had scored another one on one interview with superman, caught him after the tussle with some freaky alien creature that had been terrorizing a coffee shop the other day and gotten a full two pages out of it. it was no surprise really, kent seemed to be a super magnet these days. you thought with mild annoyance that no one seemed to be writing articles on him having a nefarious in with superman, but the thought quickly faded when none other than clark himself appeared at your side with a warm smile.
“heading out?” he asked, his own bag slung over a broad shoulder. you nod in response, standing from your office chair and shrugging on your coat.
"finally." you reply, tugging out the locks of hair that were caught inside your coat. you met clark's gaze and he gave a soft nod toward the exit, motioning that he'd walk out with you. you smile in return and ignore the way it makes your stomach flutter a bit. you walk for a few steps in comfortable silence, bidding quiet goodbyes to your coworkers as you pass. then clark speaks.
"so, I read the article." he sounds almost hesitant to bring it up, and you don't blame him after how you'd been acting this morning.
"okay." you hum in response, unsure where he's going with it.
"it was trash. obviously." he huffs a laugh, and you're grinning before you even realize.
"obviously."
"I just thought I should let you know, you know- as someone who's done a few interviews with the guy, he doesn't make himself easy to get to."
"you've done more than a few interviews, I'd say clark." you say, a tone of slight teasing. it was still somewhat beyond your understanding how exactly he managed to have such luck reaching the elusive superhero. your coworker doesn't quite give you an answer, instead smiling in a way that makes you wonder if there's something he's not saying.
"anyway." clark starts as he reaches out for the door handle, long arm pushing it open and waiting for you to exit. you hum a quiet thank you as you pass under him. "don't let those idiots get to you. you're work is fantastic. it always has been."
you're blushing furiously, you can feel it. you pray that the evening light outside the planet building isn't highlighting every inch of your fiery red cheeks.
"thank you." you whisper, having a hard time meeting clark's eyes. you'd learned a long time ago that the earnest kindness the man extended was just a part of who he was. it didn't make it any easier to accept such flattering comments from your undeniably handsome and sweet coworker. you think he must be done, his flattery coming to a necessary close as the two of you need to part your separate ways to head home. but before you can turn away, hand still half raised in the air to wave farewell, clark speaks again.
"and even if you were working with an... advantage- anyone would be more than lucky to be posing for your photos. especially superman."
you're stuck still, heels glued to the pavement as you watch clark's head of black curls get swept up in the sea of pedestrians making their own walks home. only when a passerby accidentally knocks your shoulder, making you jostle and blink back into reality, do you turn on your heel and begin walking your own path home.
had you imagined that? imagined the subtle tilt of clark's lips as he'd spoken, made up the underlying tone of more than friendly flattery in his words? or had it really been there?
it was completely in clark kent's nature to be so kind- to extend compliments and reassurance to all of his co-workers when they needed it. but to so blatantly address the accusation of you having a more than friendly relationship with -superman- of all people, not to pile onto the unfounded rumors or joke about how crazy such a claim was, but to say metropolis's savior would be the lucky one in the arrangement...
that was a bit more forward and friendly than you'd ever witnessed the old fashioned gentleman being.
it had been about a week since your semi-awkward moment with clark, and to your credit you'd moved past it quite well if you did say so yourself. it was totally normal to be overly flattered by such a kind compliment, and you were simply a human woman with working eyes! anyone in close proximity with a man as endearing and handsome as clark kent would get flustered from time to time. nothing to obsess over.
and so you'd managed to put both the interaction and any lingering annoyance about the article out of your mind, getting back to your hardworking normal self and taking on a handful of completely non-superhero related articles for good measure. this could only last so long in a city that seemed cyclically plagued by extraterrestrial terrors, though.
it was a thursday morning, and you were jolted alert so suddenly you nearly fell right out of your rolling desk chair. perry had shouted for everyone's attention, jogging into the main office and flicking the channel on the tv. a few clicks and the screen lights up with an aerial view of metropolis's skyline, and the shining globe of the planet is center stage.
that's not what grabs your attention though. no- your eyes are following the blurred flash of red and blue zipping on and off the screen. it takes no solid form, but it doesn't need to to be recognized. superman is veering up and down, around buildings and under bridges as a robotic looking figure, all heavy dark metal and smoke, follows his path through the sky.
you're out of your chair, fist clamping around your bag as you head for the back door before perry can even finish saying your name.
"on it!" you holler over your shoulder, pushing through the door to the stairway and taking two stairs at a time. one hand is digging in your bag as you reach the top landing, and you pull free your camera as you shoulder open the door to the roof. a blast of air hits you dead on, strands of hair flying back as you make your way onto the roof only to be met with another in quick succession.
superman is circling the mystery assailant, and from all the way down here you can feel the distinct blast of warmth as red hot heat shoots from his eyes.
you whip around, camera held up to your eye as another blast goes by overhead- the unknown enemy your subject of attention is currently fighting against.
then, it all happens at once. a deafening crash that has your hands smacking against your ears, camera only saved by the strap around your neck as you fall to your knees and clutch either side of your head against the noise. smoke blooms behind you, and when you've blinked hard and shaken your head free from the daze of the boom you turn to see it. dust and debris scattered from where something hard has collided with the roof of the building. the roof you're standing on.
from the plume of smoke, you watch in frozen shock as the hulking metal of the robotic figure you'd seen flying through the sky just moments ago rustles and fights to stand. even with shaking hands your camera is raised, finger snapping photo after photo of the scene.
"ma'am."
"AH!" you whirl, once again nearly startled off of your feet as your eyes meet the figure that's materialized silently behind you.
standing on the roof ledge- no, no not standing. levitating a solid few inches above the roof ledge is a man, a tall, broad, smiling man in head to toe blue and red. his long cape billows behind him in the rustling breeze as he extends a hand toward you.
for all the talk about how well you'd photographed the hero over the past few months, you had truly never seen him so close- in all of his true glory. what surprises you most, takes your breath out of your chest most sufficiently, is how very human he looks.
"you really can't be up here." the man speaks again, and his point is only further proved by another hulking screech of metal from behind you. you turn to look, but before you can even fully turn a rush of air hits the side of your face, and superman is mere inches from you. you let out a soft and startled woah. "I'm going to pick you up now." it's all the warning you get before the world is spinning around you, camera bouncing helplessly against your chest as strong arms wrap around you and whisk you off the roof.
it's only mere seconds before your feet hit solid ground, and you're standing in the park across the street. you look up bewildered, eyes landing on the roof of the very building you'd just been on top of. you have the distinct feeling that you might throw up.
"sorry about that, miss." not for the first time in the past few minutes, you whirl in surprise to see the man standing just beside you, looking completely unruffled by the fact that you just flew off a damn building. "just trying to keep you safe."
your mouth opens and closes like a blubbering fish out of water, and superman gives you a kind nod and cheesily bright smile before blasting off into the air again, disappearing behind the daily planet. a few loud crashes and booms shake you out of your state of shock well enough for you to get back to work, camera at the ready as you once again witness the scene of the battle.
it hardly lasts another minutes, the caped hero grabbing the now dilapidated and smoking hunk of metal and whisking it up into the atmosphere. when it comes back earth-side, landing a few yards behind you in a deserted area of the park, there's hardly anything to take a picture of. you snap a few anyway, mostly of the thick plumes of smoke and sparks flying from the wreckage, before your lens is overtaken by a much more colorful scene.
you peer over the device to see a familiar face.
"I would offer you a photo, but I think we both know you don't need me to help you out."
you could almost swear he winks at you. you stutter over a response, but he beats you to it again.
"here's a direct quote for your next article. superman doesn't do any photoshoot favors. even for the best photojournalists." you know without a doubt that he does wink at you this time. he leans in a bit then, hands on his hips in a way that could only look natural on a man like him and speak just to you. "though I certainly wouldn't mind posing for you, miss."
he doesn't give you a moment to respond, to even process. he's up into the sky again, hovering a few hundred feet up only long enough for you to realize what exactly he's doing.
you raise the camera with still shaking hands and the shutter snaps under your finger, once, twice, a few more times as you get the clearest photos you've ever managed of the flying hero. in the last one, he raises two thumbs up and shoots you a shining grin, before disappearing in a blast of air.
when the article comes out on the attack the next day, lois indeed does quote superman directly, and includes not one but three of the pictures you'd gotten of the scene. you'd like to see any other journals come up with something to say about your work now that the superman himself has come to your defense.
you'd kept that last photo for yourself though. and when you stared at it sometimes, pulled up on your laptop as you worked in your apartment, you'd wonder why exactly that bright, warm grin seemed so very familiar.
y'all mind if a pitt girly goes back to her superhero roots for a minute ? -reef <3
all the rights that come with marriage you should be able to have without marriage btw. you should be able to designate a person who can visit you in the hospital regardless of your relationship to that person.
