does the movie iron giant exist within the dc universe and if so does the iron giant still want to be superman and if so how long does it take clark to stop crying
Lois: Why are you crying over the Iron Giant wanting to be Superman? Clark: *tearfully* WHY AREN’T YOU
because, like, okay I can buy that maybe he can disguise himself well enough to hide the fact that he’s superman, but i doubt any amount of slouching and glasses wearing can truly disguise that he’s a very tall EXTREMELY muscular man with a jawline that can cut glass.
So basically this newspaper office has this guy who looks like a weightlifter/supermodel just hanging around but he wears glasses and acts like a huge nerd and everyone just goes with it???
Like “Oh yeah, that’s Clark. No no he works here. Oh no don’t bother being intimidated by him, talk to him for five minutes and he’ll devolve into a lecture on proper tractor maintenance. We like Clark.”
I wonder if the ladies in the office ever drag him with them to bars so they don’t have to worry about creeps trying to harass them like “back off creeps our friend here is 6′4″ and grew up chucking hay bales” And then it’s funny because (as far as they know) Clark is like, the meekest lil nerd around. (He don’t look it though!!!!)
It’s just incredible to me that Clark Kent can pull off being a quiet harmless dork while still looking like, well, superman.
Do you think he occasionally turns up to the office Halloween party wearing a really shitty Batman costume?
“The nature of this mission is such that we need to keep a low profile, so: land vehicles only, fast enough for emergencies but plausible for interstate travel.” Batman set the tablet down. “Any questions.”
Flash threw up both his arms. “Road trip!”
“That’s not a question.”
“I’m out,” Aquaman said, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. He had his chair tilted back so he could cross his boots on the table.
“I’m shocked,” said Batman, who was not shocked.
“Aquaman!” Wonder Woman protested. “Don’t you want to ride with me? It will be fun! I’m told there are giant balls of twine in the desert.”
“This is a mission,” Batman reminded her. “There are no balls of twine between here and the base.”
“We can take a detour after we’re done,” she suggested, not to be dissuaded.
“Obviously I love giant balls as much as the next man,” Aquaman said, leading Batman to slowly shake his head. “However: this whole trip is landlocked. And I have business in the ocean to take care of.”
Wonder Woman narrowed her eyes. “Is this business a redhead?” Rather than deny it, Aquaman grinned, rows of gleaming white shark’s teeth sharp as daggers.
“And is it related to giant balls?” Flash added.
“Or blue ones?” Green Lantern continued further.
Wonder Woman looked between them. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Travel arrangements,” Batman announced, picking his tablet back up. “For logistical reasons we’ll be traveling mostly in pairs, I’ve chosen groups strategically, don’t try to argue, I know where you live.”
“I’m not clear on who that last part was addressed to,” said Green Arrow.
“All of you. Arrow, you’re with Flash.”
The Flash pumped his fists. “Yesss — I drive!”
“Absolutely not,” Green Arrow said immediately.
“Martian, you’re with Firestorm.”
“Shotgun,” Firestorm said immediately.
Martian Manhunter looked at him. “You both get shotgun,” he reminded him.
Firestorm scratched his chin. “Right.”
“Hawks, you’re not coming on this one because we all remember Utah.”
Hawkman buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. Hawkgirl had her fists on her hips, and was laughing, her tongue curled down to her chin.
The tongue was how they knew the laugh was genuine.
“Superman, you’re with Green Lantern.”
Green Lantern and Superman’s eyebrows both shot up. “Really?” they both asked, before exchanging glances.
“Yes.”
Wonder Woman’s eyes widened. “Does that mean—”
“Yes.”
“—I’m with you?”
“Yes.”
Batman was expressionless, a fact which meant less than nothing. Wonder Woman was delighted. Aquaman frowned. “Wait, where was I in the seating arrangement?”
“You weren’t.”
Aquaman took his feet off the table to sit upright, leaning forward with his brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“You weren’t going to come on this mission.”
“You didn’t know that for sure.”
“I did.”
Aquaman slammed his palm onto the table. “I’ve changed my mind!” he announced. “I will join you for this mission.”
“Fine,” Batman said, not missing a beat. “You can join Green Arrow and The Flash.”
They all looked to where the two men were hunched over Flash’s phone, trying to figure out playlists. “I’m not spending five hours listening to electropop,” Arrow was saying. “I get enough of that at home.”
“And thank God, if it were up to you it’d be nothing but butt rock.”
“That’s not a genre.”
“My car is a no Nickelback zone.”
“You don’t even have a car, you run everywhere.”
“Legally, everything in a three foot radius of me is a car.”
“That’s not a law.”
“It should be.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Aquaman announced as he stood. “Atlantis needs me.”
Superman’s fingers were laced together, his index fingers pressed to his mouth as he assessed the situation. There was a metaphorical fire in his eyes, as opposed to the literal fire that was sometimes in his eyes.
“I’m going to have to fight you,” he said finally.
Batman rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Between the gloves and the mask, it was not a very effective stress reliever. “No,” he said, “you’re not.”
“You’re leaving me no other choice.”
“Out of all the reasons that you could possibly want to throw me into the sun–”
“What?” Superman was aghast. “I said fight, why are you going straight to starmurder?”
“I’m sorry, did you have something else in mind? Were you just going to knock me over until it accepts you as its alpha.”
Superman made a face. “Ducks don’t have alphas.” He knelt down closer to Batman’s boots. “Do they?”
The duckling peeped. It seemed content enough to be at least close to Batman, after having spent five minutes frantically chasing after him, little feet slapping against the pavement.
“I hate you,” Superman said seriously. “Not you,” he clarified to the duckling, in case it was confused. It tried to hide behind Batman’s foot. “You don’t even like ducks.”
“No one likes ducks.”
“I like ducks.”
“Why are you complaining like I did this on purpose. In all the time that you’ve known me, what have I ever done to lead you to believe that I would want this.”
“Your noted tendency to collect birds?” Superman suggested. Batman said nothing, but Superman could tell that behind his mask, he was giving him A Look. Superman stood, and the duckling circled Batman’s feet to peep up at him. “It wants you to pick it up.”
“You pick it up. You like ducks.”
“It doesn’t want me.”
“Pick it up anyway. You have super speed.”
Superman shook his head. “Super speed is very traumatic for most animals.”
Batman narrowed his eyes just slightly. “Most?” he asked, intrigued despite himself.
“Turtles don’t seem to notice,” Superman explained. “Peepers there would definitely notice, though.”
“Hmm?” Clark yawned, stretched out his toes but remained mostly sleeping.
“Do you maybe want to get back down here?” Lois sounded slightly annoyed. That didn’t seem good. He cracked an eye open.
Oh. Okay. He was floating three feet above the bed. He could see how that might be a problem. Particularly when he’d taken the quilt with him. He yawned again.
“Heeey,” he said, waving down at her. She grabbed his pillow and threw it at him. He frowned as he caught it, and tucked it under his head with one arm, still floating. “I’m working on it.”
“Am I going to have to start bringing another blanket?” she asked, curling up on his sheets to stay warm.
“Nooo, you’re fine, it’s fine.” He yawned again as he drifted downward, holding the covers out so they’d land on her. “This is… no.”
“Is this going to be like that thing where Wendy had to tie the Lost Boys to their beds so they wouldn’t float off at night?”
It was a highly specific accusation. He tucked the blankets around her as he settled in next to her on the mattress.
“No, I don’t usually – I don’t think I usually…” He gestured vaguely toward the ceiling. “Flying dream.”
“Flying dream?” She was either incredulous or amused. She rolled conveniently onto her side, so he pulled her close against him, an arm around her waist and his knees tucked behind hers.
“Don’t say it like it’s weird,” he huffed, nuzzling against her hair. “People who can’t fly have flying dreams, too. This is facts.”
Lois chuckled, and he pressed his forehead against her back, listened to her heartbeat. It sounded like anyone else’s, but it wasn’t. It was hers. He wished he could pinpoint exactly what it was that made it hers. He’d like to be able to identify her just by the sound of her heart beating. He wasn’t convinced that was physically possible, but he’d like to. “You don’t hear people talk about walking dreams,” she pointed out.
“’s different.”
“How?”
“It’s flying.” The light filtering through the bedroom window was artificial, billboards and streetlights. Moonlight mixed in there, somewhere, lost in neon. It landed yellow on the wall, tinted by the stained glass sunflowers he had hanging above his headboard, flower-shaped shadows.
Concept: a small child whose imaginary friend is Superman. He talks to “Superman” all the time, completely unaware that Clark can in fact hear everything he’s saying. The child and associated adults are infinitely surprised when reply letters from Superman start appearing in their mailbox
so the thing about bees and spiders is, i love them, and i know that with very rare exceptions they will not harm me. they are my friends and they only want to coexist with me. but that is all logic. if i’m eating outside and suddenly there is a bee in my face, or if i’m in the shower and suddenly there’s a spider crawling next to the soap, it all goes out the window. i’m gonna go AUGH and recoil in horror and look like a goddamn idiot until i come to my senses.
my question is, do you think superman ever gets startled by a bee and flies like five feet away in a half second even though it’s physically impossible for a bee to sting him
another dumb headcanon: superman is nice to birds because of course he is, and helps out birds who are in distress. also he can fly around with them. birds see a lot more of superman than they do of most people, basically. the unexpected consequence of this is that the crows of metropolis recognize superman as a friend. sometimes crows just follow him around like a weird flock, or try to give him shiny things. but mostly please just imagine luthor trying to gloat while threatening superman with kryptonite only to have a crow steal it. or just, generally, lex luthor getting attacked by crows. if that does not improve your day i don’t know what to tell you.
“What is that?”
Superman followed the direction of Batman’s gaze. A crow had landed on the rooftop beside them, and dropped a bottlecap near Superman’s feet. “Oh! Hey Francis. Is that for me?”
“Caw,” said Francis.
“Do you have a pet crow?” Batman asked.
“No, I don’t have pets,” Superman said as he bent down to retrieve the bottlecap.
“You named it.”
“Not this specific one,” Superman explained. “I just call all the crows Francis.”
“… why.”
“Caw, caw,” said Francis with a flap of its wings.
“I don’t know. Just calling them ‘crow’ felt rude after a while. I’d name them individually but I can’t actually tell them apart. Except for Old Francis and One-Eyed Francis.” Superman tucked the bottlecap into a small pocket on the back of his pants.
“Why Francis?”
Superman shrugged. “It’s gender neutral. I don’t want to misgender them just because they’re birds.”
“Of course you don’t,” Batman sighed, looking back out at Metropolis.
“Caw,” Francis added.
“Do you keep dog treats in your utility belt?” Superman asked.
“Why would I do that.”
“… in case you meet a dog that needs to know he’s a good boy?” Superman suggested. Batman shook his head, but opened a small pouch on his belt and held out a small treat. “See, it was a yes or no question, I don’t know why everything has to be such a production with you,” Superman said as he took it. He tossed it over by the bird’s feet. “Here you are, Francis. Keep up the good work.”
“Caw, caw,” Francis said. When it realized no more treats were forthcoming, it flew away in a flutter of black wings.
“You’re unbelievable,” Batman said, shaking his head again.
Superman took his eyes off the departing crow to look back at Batman, and frowned. “You know,” he said, “it’s really weird seeing you in costume during the day.”
“Don’t start.”
“It’s like seeing your teacher at the mall.”
“Don’t think I won’t take care of Poison Ivy without your help, if I have to.”
i like to imagine that clark kent’s search history is mostly normal but then there’s stuff like “improved superman costume concept art” because he wanted ideas
someone said they wanted to be able to reblog this with my horrible tags
no but like… do you sue him for using your designs? Do you politely ask him to stop using your designs? Do you ask him for license fees when the Superman merchandise adopts your design as well?
i am absolutely sure that he would find one with an artist’s comment/description that included “hey superman if you’re reading this feel free to use this anytime ok ;3″ and he would say “oh man that’s so thoughtful, thank you weedhorse69, I think I will” and like how do you explain in court that you, weedhorse69, did not intend for your statement to be any kind of contractual offer because you did not think he would ever find your public internet post with his name all over it
you should DEFINITELY read weedhorse69’s chatlog screenshots, oh my god
And now I’m imaging that weedhorse69 is Kyle Rayner before he got the ring.
Later, after he gets the ring … awkward. So awkward.
“Obviously you aren’t obligated to join the League, but we’d be happy to have you.”
Kyle was going to die. He did not, despite the obvious facts, consider himself to be possessed of great will. It did not occur to him that the fact that he could make himself stand there and pretend to be casual spoke volumes.
“I’ll have to think about it,” he said, hoping that his voice didn’t shake, turning down the thing he would have liked most in the world. “I’m a pretty private person.”
Superman considered this. “That’s fair,” he said, “but maybe I should mention that the League doesn’t require you to disclose your civilian identity.”
“It doesn’t?” Shit. He shouldn’t have sounded so excited.
“No. Some people choose to disclose to close friends, but it isn’t on file and no one has to share anything they’re not comfortable with.”
“Oh.” Maybe… maybe no one would have to know. Maybe he could do this. “I’ll still have to think about it,” he said, even as he made up his mind, “but I am very interested.” Superman smiled, suddenly, and even though he had been nothing but kind Kyle was terrified. “What? Did I say something funny?”
“No, no, you’re fine,” Superman assured him. “Usually Green Lanterns are a little more candid, is all. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I, uh.” Kyle faltered. “It’s not that I have anything to hide. It’s just… before I got the ring, I… did some things I’m not proud of.” Superman nodded in a manner warily sympathetic. “Things are different now, though. Very different.”
“I believe you,” Superman said, and it was absolutely killing him how nice he was. He was so nice. Kyle’s only saving grace was that he was wearing the classic costume. “The ring chose you, that’s all I need to know.”
Oh, god. Superman thought he had reformed from a life of crime.
He wasn’t entirely wrong. Right? Right. This was fine. Everything was fine. Kyle would join the League and never tell anyone his name and no one would ever know the depth of his sins and he would meet Batman and that would end well.
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