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people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation

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insta!rec -- Five Things That Never Happened to Lex Luthor...and other stuff
children of dune - leto 1
Reason four thousand nine hundred eighteen that I love rivkat.

Five Things That Never Happened to Lex Luthor. I wish I could hit everything I loved, but every bit of it would spoil, so go with the fact that number four was--man. And number five? Oh yes. And number one? Ooh.

Notice all the non commital noises. And I didn't even get around to two and three, geh and whoa.

She rocks.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY musesfool. May it be filled with much Sirius/Remus, Eowyn, chocolate, and other lovely things, honey. *hugs*

Reorganized my hose by color. Lookie there, only two colors. That took a long time. Tore one pair on suit of armor (miniature) I recieved from sister for Chirstmas, kind of liked it, and scrapped it to make masks to play burlgar with Child later. I'm leading him to the dark side big time.

Why do I see myself testifying about this in court someday? *worries*

Am joining family on vacation beachward in a few weeks. This means, of course, bathing suit shopping, the single most terrifying experience of my life, and I'm counting the time I tried on sixteen (SIXTEEN) prom dresses in varying shades of pink before being allowed to settle back into black.

I did look at some of the bits, though, that are so cheerfully considered appropriate outdoor attire. I was thinking I'd like that twenties sort of look--ankle to wrist covered, maybe something in stripes, with a big floppy hat and very large sunglasses. Apparently, however, like the never ending stretches of capri pants that seemed to be assaulting me from every direction, the bits left from creating Barbie's wardrobe tied together with tiny bits of string are so the way to go.

It interests me in a morbid kind of way. Just looking at them reminds me of every inch of inexpertly placed fat and the sheer lack of cup size I have going on. There was this one that I sort of liked--a kind of top that went to just above the navel, adn cute little hot pants, which actually looked not only comfortable, but also like it might protect those bits that should never really come in contact with one hundred degree sun and the unfortunate abrasions of sand. It also would have required a mortgage to own.

It's cute. But no bathing suit is that cute. I'm leaning toward t-shirt and cut-offs again. I shall be viciously unfashionable and also? Boondocky. But comfy as well. Perhaps I should not have gotten my tooth fixed after all.


I have a new classification system for them.

Stories I'm Hiding From

Clexbrothers weird AU -- yeah, yeah, yeah, this one's old news and I've posted bits here.

Pretty When You're Mine -- I almost want to finish this simply because raincitygirl said in such a mournful tone that I probably wouldn't, as I am contrary like that.

Stories I'm Ignoring

Something Like Forgetting -- yes, I'm actively ignoring. Even whistling during.

Where No One Else Can Follow -- because I have no idea what to DO with it.

This, Too -- cowrite with Pru. I am pleased to say we are BOTH hiding AND ignoring it splendidly. And also? This sucker won't stop growing. I don't trust it. I keep expecting it to attack.

Bruce/Lex for Te -- because I'm malleable and she KNOWS that. And also, I can't get Bruce to do anything but stalk. Stupid weird boy.

Pretentiously Titled Fic -- aka, the one that accidentally got a plot. I was amusing myself by writing up a scene where Pete and Clark from Standing in the Common Spaces have another chat. Bah. Go away.

Stories That Annoy Me and Act Dumb

The Yard -- because it scares me and the outline I was dumb enough to make won't stop growing.

Rising - stupid AUness.

And the rest that I am pretending aren't there until I can deal with them.

With any kind of luck, they'll all go away.

How to...

Amuse yourself during break at work.

The break room has newly cleaned, waxed, polished, whatever floors--slick and slippery and I was in my non-slick shoes, which wasn't satisfactory at all. Since I go to lunch a half-hour early than most, I was in first, admiring the way the worn million-year old hallogen lights overhead turned the floor a perky shade of sick yellow, and considered the fact that the partition that separates it from the conference room was down.

In this room, you see, are chairs with wheels.

Nice, slick wheels. That sliddddeee.

You tell me what I spent fifteen minutes doing in the break room while I warmed up my lunch and waited for it to cool to eat.

I will just point out--man, that was fun.

And no one is going ot convince me that other people weren't doing it, too.

Today was serenely monotonous, filled with small annoyances, but I did get to overhear a client bitching out the senior clerk on the phone. That was a mistake on his part. The rest of us are kinda--leery, about being sharp with rude clients. She's sort of not. She gave him a three second warning and hung up the phone.

I want to be her when I grow up. She hung up with style and even a flourish.

Mmm. Flourish.

Made triple chocolate brownies from box, the best kind. Chock full of preservatives, artificial colors and flavors, massive amounts of fat, oil, and tiny Hershey's kisses to make the chewy and the gooey.

Mmm. Cholesterol. (is that how you spell it?)

I want another one.

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Pretty When You're Mine -- I almost want to finish this simply because raincitygirl said in such a mournful tone that I probably wouldn't, as I am contrary like that.

Well, in that case, I'm sure you won't finish it. *hopes reverse psychology will work*

I mean, really, hooker!Clark is adorable, so it's just a tease not to finish it... *bg*

*looks at you*

*looks at Word*


If Clark had said "twelve but very well-grown", Lex probably would have believed him.

Too tall, too awkward, staring around him with wide, utterly surprised eyes, he's almost a stereotype if you forget his profession. Which frankly, Lex has a hard time visualizing, and in all things sexual, visualization has never been a problem. Especially with someone that looks like that.

And also looks like he should be in some sort of school setting. Playing football. Whatever boys his age do under normal circumstances. Though Lex is kind of hazy on the concept of normal.

"Leex." The brunette's hands settle on his hips, and Lex wonders when exactly clubbing became so boring that he spends quality time watching a kid quietly freak out. "Whatcha thinking?"

God, wouldn't she be amused to know. Confused. Something. He tries to remember her name.

"Nothing." It's more dismissive than he likes, and she retreats almost instantly. And that, Lex Luthor, is easy sex backing off. You, my friend, need to get your ass on straight.

Before the thought finishes, though, Lex watches Clark react to a pretty blonde climbing into his lap. The outright panic is almost funny--no, scratch that, it *is* funny, hands coming up without touching, like he's worried he'll leave incriminating fingerprints on her. She's good, though, catching him in a fast, messy kiss that makes both hands close on the edge of the stool in shock.

So right, club boring, but Clark, very interesting, and it may say a lot about the current state of his life that he's finding this the most entertaining night of his life since his return to Metropolis. Picking up his drink, Lex slowly winds his way through the clumps of people, smiling when it seems appropriate, and the blonde is gone when he finally arrives at the table.

Clark's hand is on his mouth like he tasted something *really* weird.





*beams* Deliriously so, Jenn.

It's like fic on demand!

*goes back and reads again*

Can I beg for more?


Oh man, that's great. Now, was that hard? (I mean difficult) No. So it would be easy to finish it, doncha think?

Yay! I'm happy. Unless my being unhappy will make you write more of this, in which case I'm miserable. ;) Yay for more sexworker!Clark!

I said mournfully that I didn't think she would precisely because I was hoping that would bring about finishing of it, using a variant of the reverse psychology approach. Alas, it didn't seem to have worked. Maybe I should go for a full-on reverse psychology approach and say I too am sure Jenn won't finish it.

*looks at snippet that Jenn just wrote*

Yeah, try it raincitygirl. I mean, it certainly can't hurt. *bg*

(I love your icon. Really, it sums up just how I feel at this moment in time. Hooker!Clark fic! Hip hip hooray!)

I will harass her mercilessly. Now I know it worked once, I will redouble my efforts.

P.S. The icon was created by LiviaPenn, I believe.It's a cute one, huh?

Thanks! They were kicking my ass for so long, I just had to get them out of the way (in order to make room for the next set of half-baked ideas).

As for the beach, just make sure you've got plenty of sunblock. I missed an irregularly shaped spot on my upper arm and the crease of my elbow, did a four-hour drive under the sun, and now look like a palomino with a skirt on.

Go, write stuff with Pru. I'm counting on you.

I missed an irregularly shaped spot on my upper arm and the crease of my elbow, did a four-hour drive under the sun, and now look like a palomino with a skirt on.

You give the most intensely vivid images I've ever run across. *boggles*

Go, write stuff with Pru. I'm counting on you.

Pru keeps curling up on the floor muttering 'this isn't happening' every time I bring it up.

Of course, I hide under the desk when it's mentioned, so I'm no judge.

Stupid one-night PWP gone all bizarre....

I noticed that there is no 'stories I'm working on studiously' category. I'm sure this was just an oversight. *g*


*raises eyebrows*


Well, imagine that.


I'm--pondering. THAT sounds legit, no?

Hey. Taking what I can get here. *g*


And also, I can't get Bruce to do anything but stalk. Stupid weird boy.

There is in fact a reason so many of us ignore him in favor of his former sidekick.

(See, in comics, it's easy. He can stand there silently and brood. You can't do that in prose).

As someone who went bathing suit shopping just the other day, I must mention that if you can find a Speedo store, or a place that carries Speedo, this summer they have a lovely black (also comes in navy!) two piece with boyshort bottoms and full-coverage tank style top for sixty dollars, total. I know because I bought a set!

Not too bad, considering.

And that fills my random comment quota for the day, I guess. :D

Right. So, you have no idea who I am (the 'anonymous' thing is probably going to make me do a Shimmer one of these days), but in a bold move of Internet-only non-shyness, I am going to post my two cents! *waits for imaginary-but-huge background crowd to stop cheering*
*crowd stops*
*waits some more*
*crowd starts booing and yelling 'just get on with already!'*
Ahem. Yes. I just wanted to tell you that while I enjoy all of your stories (I'd mention a few specifics here but that would just make an already too long comment...much longer) I especially look forward to *read lurks about your lj in (non-violent but still very creepy) stalker-like manner hoping for more*

Clexbrothers-love this idea and what you're doing with it. Fifth helpings welcome.

Something Like Forgetting-have had very hard to bear sense of anticipation ever since Lex found those old delivery receipts with Clark's name on them and *really* need more.

The Yard-sometimes I think the drool just speaks for itself.

Anyway, I think the whole reverse psychology thing has probably been worn out by now so I am going limit myself to good ol'fashioned pleading and puppy dog eyes. *makes irresistible puppy dog eyes*
And if that doesn't work-I know some awesome sliding chair tricks that could be yours...

Harmony (yes that is my real name, my parents were hippies)

Stories I'm Hiding From

""""""""""""""Stories I'm Hiding From

Clexbrothers weird AU -- yeah, yeah, yeah, this one's old news and I've posted bits here."""""""""""""

It may sound strange, but I read your brother au in context with mobiusklein brother au. Your au is when are both are young, hers are fist time when they are older. The background is not the same, but I´m pretending.

What I wan´t to say? I don´t know.


Bathing suit shopping always sucks. Majorly. No matter who you are. I am convinced that Michell Pfeiffer angsts about her bathing suit.

Tankini are the way to go though (which sounds like the one you liked)

This is maybe close - although I don't know about the color etc.:


At least it is affordable. Landsend had some nice ones, but at $59.00 I decided to not bother listing them. ;-)

By the way - I am still in the middle fo moving and have not got my own on-line access yet. I hope to have it by Monday. this has meant I have hardly been able to participate in The treasury, and I don't know if I will be around when the tallying comes up. If I have my own access then I'll be able to help, but right now, everyting I won is in boxes and I am stealing time on my parents computer to post anything.

and you know? reading slash on my Mom's computer?


somehow it is just WRONG.


Stories I'm Ignoring: Something Like Forgetting -- yes, I'm actively ignoring. Even whistling during.

ignoring is ... good... kinda... right? At least you haven't trampled it to bits with nice red shoes and buried it to be forever forgotten. Ignoring means it's gotta be somewhere close by waiting to sneakily ambush you while you're off whistling. And it made the list which is more than Seventy Two Hours did, right? *g*

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