#{ same here with chloe. }

[mwahbabe]

puppy eyes mascs and kitten eyes fems <3

[seaeclipse]

Watching Daddycop, and I'm sorry but why is Kagami criticising Sabrina???

Do they even know eachother?? Had they legitimately even met or known eachother's names before Sabrina stopped being Chloe's henchgirl??

How did Kagami know about this anyway?? Were the other girls gossiping about Sabrina and Chloe's situationship friendship to her or something??

[jq37]

Descendants: The Rise of Red is kind of a bizarre movie to talk about critically because, imo, it almost doesn't make sense to talk about it in the usual terms of good vs bad or enjoyable vs not enjoyable when the way more obvious tension is finished vs unfinished.

Because, more than any other movie I've ever seen, it does *not* read as a full movie. And I don't mean in a "this movie has a cliffhanger" kind of way. The Empire Strikes Back and Across the Spiderverse fit that description. They end on big dramatic cliffhangers that point to a resolution in the third installment.

But Rise of Red just sets all this stuff up and then...ends without concluding anything. It doesn't feel like the first movie in a trilogy (or duology). It feels like the first act of a two-act musical. It very specifically reminds me of the end of the first act of Into the Woods where all the main characters sing the song Ever After about how they all fixed their problems with magic and nothing bad will ever happen to them again and then the narrator ominously says "To be continued" before the curtain drops. But in Into the Woods you know there's a second act and this movie wasn't sold as the first act of a bigger story. Like sure, it has the, "You didn't think this was the end" tag at the end like all the other movies, but those movies were complete, self-contained stories even though they had sequels. This was NOT a full story. It's half of one story.

Like, if we're supposed to take this as a full story, there are so many bizarre choices:

Why did they make sure to mention that Cinderella and Charming fell in love at the ball at the top if it wasn't meant to set up Back to the Future style, "Oh no, I accidentally got my mom banned from the ball so she's not gonna fall in love with Dad and I won't be born" shenanigans?

Why did Maddox very pointedly have that bit about "you could lose your mom completely" if that was never going to come into play? Red never did anything to endanger Bridget or endanger her own birth so it doesn't make sense as a warning in that way.

Why was there all this focus on this Carrie on prom night moment for Bridget if we LITERALLY NEVER SAW CASTLECOMING? Why dance around this moment and talk about it all cloak and dagger with no specificity if they weren't building up to some big reveal that it wasn't as straightforward as it seemed? And like, they leaned in HARD with making Bridget the nicest, sweetest, cotton candy princess as a teen so I need WAY more than, "She got pranked by known bullies she's been enduring with a smile very handily up to this point" to buy that she went from that to "murderous dictator". And even if she did become murderous, I find it insanely hard to believe that she'd include her best and only friend on the list of people she wants to suffer unless there was a betrayal. I find it INSANE that there wasn't a falling out scene at any point in this movie with how thickly they were laying on the admiration and camaraderie.

(Note: And adult Cinderella def has guilty vibes re: the Queen at orientation. Which I know I'm not imagining because it's literally spelled out in the Jr Novelization!)

Before the time travel element of the movie started, I thought they were going for something like they go to the past and realize that Bridget was bullied not by the VKs but by the spoiled royals, and Ella ends up joining in the bullying once she gets with Charming, betraying Bridget and justifying her whole "Love Ain't It" philosophy. Or Ella ditching her at the last minute to be with Charming meaning she has to deal with the monster prank alone and it was the being alone rather than the prank itself that hurt her (though that is NOT a good enough reason to go all off with their heads on your subjects). The fact that, as far as we know right now, it literally was just a relatively mild and reversible prank that caused all of this is just, such flat storytelling, you know?

But! All of this makes way more sense if this is meant to be the first act of a single contained story. And I don't wanna be all "Pepe Silvia, secret good 4th episode of Sherlock" about this but I did see this picture:

Which seems to indicate that this was written as a Part One. Which, if so, idk why they wouldn't advertise it that way but whatever. The point is, if that's the case then it means that we're potentially in bad pacing territory rather than straight up bad storytelling territory. Because this isn't a bad place to be halfway through your story:

The heroes, warned that time travel is dangerous, have gone back in time to change the heart of a brutal tyrant before she can stage a coup. They seemingly succeed in their mission and when they come home, everything is great! But then, the side effects of time travel start to catch up with them. Chloe realizes that, in breaking the vase, she prevented her mother from going to the ball and falling in love with her dad (who was conspicuously absent from the final scene btw) which means she's starting to be forgotten and erased from the timeline. And Red realizes that though this new version of her mom is as sweet and kind as the teen she once met, she's a complete stranger to her (fulfilling the Hatter's warning that she could lose her mom completely). So they have to go back in time once more to make sure the Ella and Charming fall in love again, perhaps at the cost of whatever bad thing that happened to Bridget happening again and bringing back the original version of her future self. But, now with more context of how her mom became that way, Red can now talk to her mother and persuade her to give people another chance.

Boom, that gives us time to go back and hit everything we haven't yet hit. We can pay off the time travel tropes that were set up but not explored. We can go to Castlecoming which feels so obviously set up to be the centerpiece of this story (like, come on, Back to the Future literally does the school dance thing. This is Time Travel Storytelling 101). We can actually get info about what the prank was and why it affected Bridget so completely.

(Note: This is a side thing but it really strikes me as so crazy that Bridget would so SUCH a big 180 here. Like, I know the Queen of Hearts is a silly, goofy, campy villain, but she straight up murders people and there's no way to get around that if we're taking her out of the surreal story she comes from and putting her in a (comparatively) grounded story. If I wasn't doing a betrayal plot, I would make the twist that the spell that turned Bridget into a "monster" didn't just have a physical effect, it had a mental effect and it magically twisted her personality to be the way it is now. So they broke the physical half of the curse, but neglected the other half and it's been festering the whole time, turning her as evil as she was sweet. Because like, a simple physical transformation isn't that big of a deal to have such heavy security--Bridget made cupcakes with a transformative effect and that was totally fine. I'm not saying that that's what's gonna be the case. I just think it would be an explanation that makes sense for why she changed so crazy much that makes more sense than a simple prank or even a betrayal. Her mom wasn't even evil! How did she go from zero to murder without even an evil mom to push her onto the path? But I'm super digressing right now.)

(Note #2: OK, one last thing. The trap on the book presumably would have hit the VK's and trapped them in Merlin's office regardless of what Chloe and Red did, right? That's like, net zero influence on the timeline. I genuinely can't tell if that's a straight up plot hole or set up to be like, "Oh no. Actually when she said that she was turned into a monster in front of everyone it was meant in a less literal way." Like she was just made to look bad and that was the real thing that pushed her over the edge. Like idk. It really feels like the only thing they really did that would change the timeline was get Ella banned from the dance and presumably out of the way where she couldn't hurt Bridget. OK NOW I'm done.)

Anyway, my point is that this is not how I would have structured my movie and I think this was a super weird way to go into the second era of Descendants movies, but they can still tell a complete story if that's their plan. I'm genuinely really curious to see if this pans out to be a fairly competently told story that just happens to be split over two movies or a complete fumbling of the narrative bag because it could really be either at this point and it's fascinating to me.

[caus34concern]

every bmc character is neurodivergent and i don't just mean autism and adhd

[weirdfreakshow]

You’re in a sawtrap where you have to rape one of your mutuals, who’s gonna get violated??

I can just pick random cause i love them all sm 😁😁😁 and im sure they can take it, for me ♡

[carnivallsarchive]

want to bring her into the mutual circle so bad

[timothyslucy]

oh, i started episode 7x09 btw, and also... i love my firefam, just look how wholesome. 🥰🥰

[marsneedstherapy]

okay, cuz like, when chloe posted on her Insta a few days ago about oliver technically being in ove everyone was like "yes I knew it! conformation!" and what not, but I straight up never even thought for second that ppl thought it was just a theory, I assumed it was already accepted canon- 💀💀

[plumsaffron]

Sigh how many times shall I say this.

Lila Rossi did not get kicked out.

Literally she willingly dipped after Bustier called the rest of the students to help Mr Damocles.

In other words she could pop back in again if she felt like it.

This was after the Mayor No U to the principal that said Chloe and she are expelled.

He also noped them forged forums from being refilled out again.

Second of all. Her models tone are flat out the same (do you need to rewatch carefully or remember um various lights environments color correction are a thing? Do you need to re look up each all leaked or Lila models or Lila models). Episode(s) After contradict this thing of oh she’s lighter now or this oh she has fake tan.

Ayo I think London Special Proantagonist and ML Wiki writers/editors should hold hands.

[louisdotmp3]

fr u all need to get into big love it has everything you want

[flovverworks]

(person whos exhausted and thought of chloe a second too long) u know how im 70% sure chloe has an area convo where akira says something nice and chloe goes "is this what its like to have a big sibling?!?!", i need rustica to date someone n chloe to go "is this what its like to have (loving) parents?!?!?"

[toestalucia]

(person whos so tired theyre about to go to bed) would u like to hear about my gbf promise of wizard collab dreams

[svnriseblvdd]

neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: with a new problem in smallville ridding people of their inhibitions and exacerbating urges, clark finds himself confronted with a dilemma as his neighbour arrives in his loft, afflicted by the same epidemic

WARNINGS: where to start?, slight dubcon (purely because reader's emotions are being exaggerated by an outside force (not a person though, it's unspecified)) but consent is verbalised later between both parties, clark is kind of pathetic (what did you expect from me?), kissing, palming(?), he's a sensitive guy, clark reacts to seeing reader's bare skin like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle, kind of dirty talk, clark in that white t-shirt (i KNOW you know what i mean), blowjob, handjob, clark compares every sexual experience to ascending to a new plane of existence and finding paradise, he's a loud boy, couch sex, semi-public sex? (in the loft in the barn, but literally no one is around and they're alone for hours), fingering, clark using his super speed for illicit activities, cowgirl, missionary, it's not said whether or not clark is a virgin, but he's definitely inexperienced, clark being scared of his strength being a danger to reader, praise kink (neither of them react to the praise in any particular way, it's just that there's a lot of praise so if anything i'm just showing off my praise kink), mention of sex against a wall, creampie

this is inspired by the episode of smallville in season one where there's that flower that makes people make poor decisions and behave rashly, and also by this scene that i saw on tiktok with clark and lana (if anyone finds this i need them to send me the link... for research purposes) (EDIT: someone found it so here's the link) where he just folds the moment she kisses his neck. i also borrowed a few lines of dialogue from my clark jacking off headcanons.

also for someone who rarely spells the word rhythm right first try, i use it a lot in this. fair warning there may be accidental tense changes and pronoun changes but i've tried to go through and eliminate that.

this will probably be the last instalment of the neighbour clark series, although i'll probably return to this idea eventually to add thoughts, but they won't be tied directly to this series, just to neighbour clark as an au. thank you to everyone who has enjoyed and supported this series and been so patient with me (i had no idea it had been over a month since part four).

part one! part two! part three! part four! part five!

Clark can’t seem to escape you over the next week, not that he really minds much. But it’s become almost impossible to make it through an encounter with you where he doesn’t feel like he’s at risk of coming undone. 

You’re always hanging out with Lana and Chloe in school and out of it, you’re at the Torch whenever he is, same with the Talon. He’s even come home to find you baking with his mother! What divine power hates him so much that you have to be everywhere he turns? 

Sometimes you’re not even doing anything particularly scandalous. The only remotely salacious thing you did while baking was licking the batter off your fingers, and that definitely did send Clark through the loop. Your pure existence anywhere nearby just threw him off. 

~~~ 

You have one thought and one thought only as you walk towards the barn that contains Clark’s little hideaway. The farm is empty besides him - Mr and Mrs Kent are in town at the market, so they’ll be gone for a while. You’ll have plenty of alone time with Clark. 

“Clark?” You call as you enter the barn. 

“Hey!” He greets, voice a little breathy. 

“Can I come up?” 

“Yeah, no problem.” You make your way upstairs, finding Clark reading through some book when you reach the top. “Hey, what’s-” 

He turns, and the sight he’s met with has him pausing. You’re in a pair of teeny denim shorts, a black cropped tank top with thin straps, and an open button-up. It’s a warm summer’s day and your skin is practically glowing in the light that filters through into the barn. The cute little brown cowboy boots on your feet really tie it together. There’s nothing particularly out of the ordinary about your outfit, but something about it feels different. It feels… he can’t place it. Although maybe it’s just to do with the air you have about you as you stand there. 

“What are- what are you doing here?” He asks. 

You shrug. “Well, it’s just been such a long, hard day, and I missed you. Kept thinking about you. Thought we could hang out. We haven’t hung out together in ages, you know? Just the two of us.” You’re moving towards him as you speak. Well, it looks like you’re just moving further into the space - pacing, perhaps - but he’s sort of backing away the entire time, keeping equal distance, and you’re turning to match his direction the entire time. “It’s been so long, Clark.” 

Your hand grazes over the telescope, but you don’t move it, don’t look in it (which he’s more than thankful for, because it’s currently aimed towards your house). 

“Y-yeah, we can hang out.” 

“What have you been doing?” You ask, looking around, then at him.

You take off the shirt, and it feels like he’s watching it in slow motion. The way your head turns, the way the material just gently, slowly glides down your smooth skin, and then it’s draped over the back of a chair. You stretch, arms reaching into the air above your head and showing off more bare skin. And as you reach the peak of your stretch, fighting the tension in your muscles and bones, you let out a purposeful moan. 

Clark is going to die. 

“Uh, just homework,” he says, swallowing to combat the dryness in his mouth as you turn towards him and begin to approach him. 

You smile a little. “So smart. You’re so good, Clark.” Well, you and he both know exactly where that comment’s going. 

“Uh- hm. Not- I’m not…” He’s backing away from you to keep some distance as you keep walking towards him. His foot hits a metal bucket, a loud clang! ringing around the barn as he stumbles a little. 

“Not what, Clark? Not smart? Not good?” Clark glances behind him to make sure that he’s not going to trip over something else or fall down the stairs, and when he turns his head back to face you, he’s shocked to find you directly in front of him. 

Your fingers hook onto his belt loops, tugging him closer to you by his hips. His eyes go wide as he looks down, then at you, multiple times in very quick succession, his face the epitome of bewilderment. 

“We both know that’s not true, Clark. You’re good. And smart. And strong. You’re amazing.” 

“Wh-what are you doing?” He manages. 

“Come on, Clark, I know.” 

“What?” 

“I know how you feel. I get it now. I’ve been totally blind to it because you’re too polite to look. But I want you to. I want you to look. I want you to touch-” His eyes turn wider still, and he’s still looking confused beyond anything. “I want you to taste. I want you to do whatever you want.” 

He sees then how dilated your pupils are, how heat radiates off you. You’re not yourself. Whatever’s been going around and getting to people the past few days has reached you. This isn’t you. 

But everything he knows points to this thing, whatever it is, exacerbating existing feelings, not creating new ones. So maybe you do really want him. It doesn’t make it any better, though. It’s still taking advantage. 

“Y-you’re sick,” he tells you as you lean in and begin to mouth at his neck. 

His eyelids flutter and a smile begins to pull at the corners of his lips. No. No, he needs to be responsible. He can’t do this now. Even though you’re handing yourself to him on a silver platter, telling him you want him to. Even though his heightened senses are letting him know the way your heart begins to beat a little faster, the way your breath turns shallow and gaspy, the way you smell as arousal begins to form a little patch in your underwear. 

“This isn’t really you. You’re sick.” 

“Oh, trust me, Clark, I’ve wanted this for a while.” 

“N-no, you’re not yourself. You can’t - ah!” He’s cut off by his own high whine when one hand releases his belt loop and instead directly palms him. His hips buck into your touch involuntarily. “Oh my God.” You apply the slightest bit of pressure, and watch proudly as his eyes roll back momentarily. Oh, he’s pent up. “N-no, no you- you’re sick. This is wrong.” 

“Don’t you want me?” You ask. 

“Baby, I’ve never wanted anything more than this, but-” 

“Then take me!” You whine. “Fuck me!” 

“Please,” he tries, although with your hand still on his clothed cock and his neck still tingling with the lasting effect of your kisses, it comes out more like a whine. 

You lean up, kissing at his jaw. “What if it makes me feel better? What if it cures me?” 

“I-I don’t think-” 

“Don’t think, Clark. Please. Just- just let go. Just be with me.” 

His eyes shut for a moment. “Fuck,” he breathes out as he reaches his verdict. He turns his head, meeting your lips. It’s a messy clash of tongues, desperate for one another. 

You back him towards a desk that’s been set up against a wall, and push at his shoulders to make him sit down. He looks up at you with those angel eyes, pupils blown and eyebrows raised a little, lips pouting and all coming together to create a look that just begs you to ravish him. 

You meet his lips with yours again, hands reaching blindly to find the hem of his sweater. You find it, pulling it up and over his head with as much speed as possible, finding that tight white t-shirt underneath. 

“Fuckin’ love this shirt,” you mumble, kissing him again. “But I need it gone.” 

Clark nods, eagerly reaching to pull the t-shirt over his head. His desperation means it gets stuck a little on the way up, and you have to help him get it off, but you don’t mind. You’re quick to get your hands on him, as he begins to kiss down your neck, you trail your hands over every muscled inch of him. 

He sucks a mark into the skin of your neck, kissing over it when he’s done, like a finishing touch. “Oh, Clark,” you breathe out, nails lightly scratching over his stomach. He shivers a little, breath shaking. 

Your fingers find his chin, tilting his face up to give him another kiss, before you’re getting to your knees in front of him. He watches with wide, adoring eyes as you begin to undo his jeans, kissing down his stomach as you do. 

You make quick work of his jeans, bringing them halfway down his thighs, then pulling his boxers down far enough to free his cock. He looks painfully hard. Clark knows that this is his body’s standard reaction to you. You don’t. You’re also not aware of the way Clark’s thoughts run wild when he fists his cock to the image of you at night. Granted none of his fantasies have ever played out quite like today has, but he’s going to be thinking of this for a very long time. 

Your hand wraps around his thick base, and he lets out a precious little gasp. You smile up at him, and from this angle, you look like a fucking enchantress. He swears you’ve got him under some kind of spell. 

You move your hand. Clark is ascending to a new plane. 

And then, with your hand still pumping him, and as Clark watches, you lean your head closer to his tip. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. 

You lick over his slit, and his head tilts back against his wishes. He doesn’t want to look away. Doesn’t want to miss a single moment. He wants to bask in the glory of this image forever. 

And then your lips wrap around his tip, a sensation like no other, and you press forward, taking him as far as you can. “Oh, baby, please-” he moans, wrangling the urge to flex his hips forward. “Y-yeah, that’s it, honey.” 

His head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut as your hand pumps what you can’t fit in your mouth. You watch him through your lashes, waiting for him to look back at you. But he doesn’t. 

So you pull off. 

Clark just about suppresses the whine that threatens to escape at the loss of the wet heat of your mouth, and instead a rather disappointed sigh leaves him. The world outside your mouth feels cold and lonely. 

But you fix it by leaning forwards and beginning to kiss around his pelvis, smirking a little against his skin as he shudders. Your hand is still moving to a steady rhythm, and even though Clark misses the feeling of your mouth, the combined sensation of your slick hand and your kisses on his hips is too good. “Clark, honey,” you mumble, nipping at the skin over his hip bone. He gasps. “Would you look at me?” 

“C-can’t,” he denies, shaking his head. 

“Why not?” 

“Because - oh, God-” You suck his skin just a couple of inches away from his base, disappointed to find no mark when you pull away. “Because if I look at you, I think I might cum.” 

You give him a sympathetic look. “What would be so bad about that?” 

“I can’t. Not yet. Have to - have to last.” 

“Oh, Clark,” you hum with a pout. “It’s okay if you cum. I want you to. We’ll go as long as you can. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.” You reach a hand up, smoothing it over the planes of his chest. “Look at me? Please?” Clark nods, looking down and meeting your eyes. “There’re those pretty eyes.” 

You plant a final kiss on his hip before taking him in your mouth again. “Oh, please,” he whimpers, his hips twitching. 

His hands rest against the desk beneath him, but not gripping it, instead clenching his fists until his knuckles turn white. You reach for one of his hands, guiding it towards you, but Clark shakes his head and pulls it back, placing it firmly on the desk again. 

“Keep going, baby, please. I’m almost there.” 

You pull away to breathe, jerking him off with newfound speed, and Clark’s breaths turn into panting moans. This time, when he feels the urge to throw his head back, he fights it. He holds the eye contact you’re giving him, just like you’d asked. 

“Let go for me, Clark. Wanna see it. Wanna taste it.” Your tongue meets his tip as you wrap your mouth around the blushing tip of his cock, and you drag along his slit. 

“Yeah. Right there. Yes, yes, fuck!” 

Clark crumbles as he cums, shooting spurts onto your tongue and moaning through it, your hand and mouth working him through the pleasure and milking him for all he’s worth. 

You grin up at him, kissing the head of his cock, and standing. He lifts a hand, cupping your face and shifting some fallen hair, smiling at you, blissed-out and awe-struck. 

He leans forwards, catching your lips in a sweet kiss. “Couch?” You mumble, and he nods, taking your hands in his as he walks towards the couch. He sits down on it, an old and worn piece of furniture - but it’ll do. It looks sturdy enough. 

You sink into his lap, knees either side of his hips, kissing him. You blindly find his hands, pulling them to the button of your shorts. The way his fingers move to get you out of those shorts is nothing short of eager, quick and fumbling in his desperation to become impossibly closer to you. 

He finally gets the button undone and the zipper down, and you clamber off him, pushing the shorts down till they hit the floor, and you step out of them. Clark sits forward, pretty green eyes gazing up at you, flickering down to the hem of your tank top. 

His nose nudges at the skin revealed beneath the bottom, and he takes a long breath in, eyes closed, as though he’s savouring a sweet smell. Through all this, though, his hands remain balled into fists at his sides. He doesn’t grip the couch cushions like you’d expect, doesn’t dare touch you, for whatever reason. 

You toy with the hem of your tank top for a moment, Clark watching with hopeful eyes, and then you pull it up and over your head. You hook a finger into the band of your underwear - another light blue set Clark remembers fantasising about, silk and lace and matching the bra - and pause. “You wanna help me take these off, Clark?” He nods, lifting his hands and hooking his fingers into the material on your hips, tugging them down gently. 

“Oh-” he breathes out. You push him back softly with a hand on his chest, straddling him again. His eyes trail down from yours, landing on your clothed chest. 

You laugh a little. “Touch me, Clark. Then I’ll take it off and you can get a look.” 

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Okay.” 

You smile, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it to your core, fingers gently stroking over your folds. One finger slips through, and Clark almost gasps. 

He’s slow with it at first, tentative, until you kiss him and whisper, “Clark, please.” 

He adds a finger, finds a rhythm, faster, but still so gentle, like he’s afraid he’ll hurt you. He curls his fingers just right, prompting a moan from you. 

“Oh, God,” he whispers to himself at the feel of how wet you are. Because of him. 

You reach a hand between you, middle and index finger on your clit, and you begin to rub tight circles, gasping at the spike in pleasure. 

Clark is watching every response to every bit of stimulation, and he looks down at your moving fingers. “Does it- does it feel good when you do that?” He asks. You nod. He meets your eyes, innocent as can be for someone who’s got two fingers buried inside you. “I want- can I?” He asks. 

“Uh-huh.” Clark replaces your fingers with the thumb of his free hand. His hands are huge. You’ve thought about it before, plenty, about Clark’s large hands on you, on your chest or cupping your ass, but now that you’re actually with him in this setting, the thought turns you on even more. If only he didn’t seem scared to touch you. 

“Am I-” Clark begins, looking up at you with hopeful eyes. 

“You’re doing so good Clark,” you praise. “So good. Please.” 

He leans forwards, kissing your neck, collarbone, down until he finds the tops of your breasts. He kisses you there too, while his fingers below speed up in their rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Clark- Clark, oh, please.” 

“Good?” He questions. 

“Yes. Yes. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, breathless. 

Your hips begin to move with the rhythm of his fingers, and Clark watches in awe as you do, adding pressure to your clit and practically doubling his speed. Your eyes go wide at the feeling, intense but so, so good. He’s so fast, you think it’s inhuman. In fact you’re pretty sure it has to be. 

“Hhhmmmm, Clark, how are - fuck, oh, God - how are you doing that?” 

Clark doesn’t respond, and you don’t get the chance to ask again because all of a sudden, your orgasm crashes over you in a heavy wave that feels like it’ll never end. 

You collapse onto him, legs trembling and chest heaving. You bite into his shoulder, hard enough to break skin possibly, which you feel bad for, but he doesn’t seem hurt by it. 

“Oh my God, Clark. That was incredible.” You lean back, cupping Clark’s jaw and tilting his head so he meets your eyes. 

“Can I- can you, uh…?” His gaze lowers to your chest momentarily, and you smile. Your hands reach for his wrists, lifting them up, pushing his fingers towards his mouth. He knows what you want, and he complies wordlessly, sticking his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean of your slick. 

“That’s it,” you hum, guiding his hands to your back, to the clasp of the bra. 

He unhooks it, dragging the straps down your arms, and discards it to the side. He stares at your bare chest in complete awe, green eyes shining. 

You reach down, pumping his cock to get him good and ready, and Clark still struggles to shift his gaze. “You ready?” You ask, and he nods. 

You push yourself up on your knees, and Clark’s eyes widen a little suddenly. “Wait, wait, what about protection?” 

“I’m on the pill,” you say. “And I’m clean. Are you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And do you still want to do this?” 

“More than anything.” 

“Good.” You line him up with your entrance, and sink down onto him. 

If Clark thought anything before was good, this was a whole new level of ecstasy. “Fuck, oh my God,” he gasps. 

His hands clench into fists at his sides again. You ignore it for now, even though you want nothing more than to feel his hands on you. 

You begin to move, starting with a slow rhythm to ease Clark into it, and hooking your arms around his neck, kissing him. “You feel so good,” he whispers. “You’re tight, and wet, and warm.” He kisses you softly. “Baby, please.” 

“I know.” You pick up your pace, bouncing on his lap, smiling at the way he moans. Your ass meets his thighs with a rhythmic plap! plap! plap! sound, your hands clinging to his shoulders for some stability, because he’s still not touching you, and more than confused, you’re starting to feel even a little insulted. 

You kiss his pulse point, just beneath his jaw, and bite at his earlobe. Your hands slide up to his hair, giving a tug, and he moans. You notice his hands twitch, but he doesn’t touch you. 

“Why won’t you touch me, Clark?” You ask, leaning back and slowing your hips. 

He meets your eyes, guilt flashing through. “I-I just… I’m really strong.” 

“I know,” you say, one hand squeezing at his bicep. 

“N-no. I mean… like, really strong. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’m not fragile, Clark.” 

“I know, but - I’m inhumanly strong. And if something goes wrong…” 

“I don’t care. It’s a minor risk. You know what I do care about? The fact that I have an insanely hot guy under me who refuses to touch me. And my legs feel like they’re gonna give out. So unless you want this to stop right now, you’re gonna have to take the risk.” 

He nods. “Are you sure? I don’t want-” 

“You won’t hurt me, Clark. I trust you.” 

He nods again, hands finally finding your hips, and with the aforementioned inhuman strength lifts you up and lays you down on the couch, crawling on top of you. 

“There we go,” you say, grinning and looping your arms behind his neck. 

Clark slips back into you, beginning to thrust slowly. “You look so pretty under me,” he muses. 

“Clark, you can’t just say that to a girl,” you giggle. He laughs a little, kissing you softly. He’s still keeping a slow pace, which you presume comes from the fear of hurting you accidentally by using too much force, but you’re impatient. “Clark, can you go faster?” 

“Y-yeah. Yeah.” He speeds up, and props himself up with one arm above your head, while the other heads south, fingers finding your clit and beginning to rub circles onto it, just like before. 

“That’s good. That’s good.” 

He nods, and more sounds begin to flood from his mouth, matching your moans. “Oh, God, baby. You feel so good. You’re so good. So pretty.” 

“You’re doing so well Clark,” you tell him. You wonder about his strength, about what he means by inhuman. Certainly, there was something inhuman about his speed earlier as he worked your clit. “Do I get to see this inhuman strength later?” 

“Uh- I probably-” 

“Please?” You clench around him for a moment. 

He falters, hips stuttering a little as a whimper escapes him. “If you do that, I think I’d give you anything you wanted.” 

“So I can see?” 

“Yeah, you can see. I’ll show you. Promise, baby.” 

Clark lets out a breathy moan, head falling into the crook of your neck as his hips gain speed, and he adjusts his thrusts to match it. “Are you close, Clark?” 

He nods. He hardly trusts his voice. “Just need a moment.” 

“It’s okay. You can cum.” 

He shakes his head. “Not before you.” God, you’d think his invulnerability would give him some advantage in holding out, but poor Clark’s so sensitive that every stroke feels like absolute heaven and it feels like he’s barrelling full-force to what will no doubt be the most incredible finish of his life. 

And then his fingers are moving against your clit just as fast as before, if not faster, desperate to get you to finish before he does. “Oh my God, Clark, what the fuck? How are you doing that?” A loud moan escapes you. “Fuck-” 

“You like that?” He asks. 

“Fuck, yes. What other inhuman abilities are you hiding from me?” 

“I’ll tell you later?” 

“You better.” 

He leans down, kisses everywhere he can reach, your jaw, your neck, your chest, your lips, even drags your earlobe between his teeth and gives it a gentle bite. You really don’t care about Clark hurting you, because it doesn’t exist as a thought in your mind that he could. He wouldn’t ever lay a hand on you, and you know that. In fact, at this point you’d willingly let him throw you against a wall and take you there. 

“Clark, I - I’m close. Please.” 

“I’ve got you. It’s okay, baby.” He adjusts himself to grab your hand, holding it by your head and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

You lift your head, searching for his lips, and he’s more than happy to gift you a kiss, soft in comparison to the speed and desperation of his thrusts. You moan into his mouth as you reach your climax, body twitching as Clark carries you through it, your walls clenching around him like a vice, drawing a particularly loud moan from him. 

“That’s it,” he hums as you come down from your high. “You okay?” 

You nod, a blissed smile on your face. “So okay.” 

You card your fingers through his hair, pulling lightly, and Clark moans. “I’m close, baby. Please, I need it. Need it so bad. Can I - where do you want me to-” 

“Inside,” you say. “Want to feel it.” 

“Okay.” 

His eyes meet yours properly, finding your dilated pupils, hazy eyes, and the utter joy in them, and that’s all it takes for him to be thrown headfirst into his own climax. He presses his forehead to yours, gasping your name as he spills his load inside of you. “God, you feel so good. Oh, fuck.” 

“There you go. That’s so good, Clark,” you praise, kissing him and swallowing his whimper. “You’re so good, honey.” 

Clark pants as he slows to a stop, giving you a soft kiss before he pulls out. He watches in awe at the way his cum drips out of you and onto the couch beneath you. 

“You were amazing, Clark.” 

“You were incredible,” he says, smiling at you. 

You pull him onto you and wrap your arms around him, smiling when he does the same to you. 

Needless to say, when Clark later demonstrates his inhuman strength by lifting a literal tractor above his head (not forgetting the joke you made when you met him about him benching a tractor), you’re quick to drag him up to his room before he can show you all the other superpowers he possesses. Although he does a damn good job of showing you that super strength.

taglist;

@mariswxt @blueeweeb @ssnapsaurus @i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this @milestellerismybf @purple-1995 @writergiih @elysianrosie @glennussy @rainwaterxx @brinascorpio @withthistreaserisummon @babble28 @mollymal @alexcole1326 @mizzfizz @jiminie1028

[zoe-oneesama]

The Kwamis! Some of these came easier than others, but since Angelic Layer has no magic involved, all the kwamis became human~ They won't be very prevalent, they're mostly here to fill in background character roles - shop clerks, MCs Tournament Directors, fans - so they won't have a whole lot of speaking roles (aside from, you know, the MCs who're there to commentate on the fights lol). But I thought I'd give them all a nice nod in the story somewhere.

As expected, Tikki and Plagg are the main MCs. Marinette and Adrien's fights will be going on concurrently so Tikki will be commentating Marinette's fights while Plagg commentates on Adrien's. They'll have the most dialogue of the kwamis, so I do want them to have unique ways of discussing what they're seeing.

Pollen will be working directly for the Bourgeois'. As a VIP with a direct relationship with the international director of Angelic Layer, Chloe has her own private practice layer in her home and Pollen is in charge of it's upkeep and maintenance. She matches Armand the Bulter's levels of competence.

Trixx is a Rena Rouge mega fan. They've been following Alya's blog for as long as they can remember and are mega stoked that Alya moved to their city. When Alya starts to doubt herself, it's Trixx's voice that can be heard cheering her on to not give up.

Nooroo and Duusu are servants in the Agreste Estate. Unknown to Adrien, they are fully aware of his sneaking around to play and the two do what they can to make excuses and deflect Nathalie when Adrien isn't where he's supposed to be. They're rooting him on from the shadows!

Wayzz is the adult son of Marianne and Fu. He brings them to Angelic Layer fights against his will because the two really enjoy them. The two seem to be really invested in Ladybug and Chat Noir's career (and the behind the scenes shenanigans that they secretly spy on).

Longg is Kagami's bodyguard. Like Nooroo and Duusu, they are fully aware of what Kagami is doing behind her mother's back and feigns ignorance when Kagami pulls something..."sneaky" to get to a fight secretly.

Here's where we get into some existing jobs from the show:

Orikko and Kaalki are the "Layer Hot Girls (and boy)". lol I just thought it was funny that Angelic Layer even has them.

Mullo is the sales clerk at the Princess Piffle store (the store where you can buy your Angel and all the accessories). All of them lol. Mullo and her many many sisters who look just like her.

Barkk and Fluff take similar but still different roles (the uniforms are ALMOST the same but there are some tiny differences). So Barkk is the receptionist at the Practice Ring (literally you pay to reserve a mini-layer to practice on) while Fluff is the waitress/cashier at the cafeteria at the Tournament Center.

(and back to making shit up lol)

Daizzi is a nurse where Rose goes to the hospital and she has segmental localized vitiligo. Rose is particularly close to Daizzi since she helps Rose make her donations to the hospital.

Sass is the backstage directory, aka, the guy who makes things run. He has an earpiece that has the same diamond pattern as his pants on it! The anime does show one person who helps backstage, but I wanted to have a little fun with Sass's look and tie in to him being "in charge" of the kwamis.

Ziggy works at Socqueline's family art supply shop, which is frequented by Angelic Layer players who are on a bit of a budget. They love talking with the customers about their angels, though mostly the design part.

Stompp is Ivan's foster mother and Roarr his foster sister (Stompp's bio-daughter). I actually didn't think of what kind of job this outfit would be good for, but I think she'd make a good security guard - usually working at rock concerts, which she bonds with Ivan over, but she's also been hired for Angelic Layer tournaments. Sometimes sore losers get a little...violent.

Roarr falls in love with Juleka's Angel Purple Tigress immediately thanks to her pre-existing love of tigers in general. She's even bold enough to proclaim her love to Juleka herself!

Xuppu is Ondine's sibling and a fan of King Monkey, though they'll go out of their way to make fun of Kim himself. Secretly, they're very invested in Kim's career and get very upset on his behalf when he loses.

[kjhbsies]

Baked With Love

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Smallville Clark Kent x popular reader

synopsis: Y/N was the popular girl who wore her heart on her sleeve—for him. But Clark, caught between fear and pride, kept pushing her away… until her absence finally made him realize what he had lost.

wordcount: 3,505

note: 16+ angst to fluff

For most of his college life, Clark Kent had genuinely no idea why you liked him so much. It all began on a very unfortunate afternoon when Lex Luthor introduced you two. Lex had said...

"Clark, this is Y/n. She's a family friend from the city. Be nice."

You were effortlessly intimidating— born in a silverspoon, a wardrobe that looked like it walked straight out of a fashion magazine cover, and a confidence that Clark couldn't even fathom. You were loud, bold, smart-mouthed, and just happened to be jaw-droppingly pretty. Clark tried not to think about it, but he failed miserably.

Clark didn't feel uneasy with you, per se. But you weren't exactly his to pick for "people I'd like to be trapped in a room with." Not because you were mean. No, you were actually weirdly nice. You just had this energy. An unshakable presence that made Clark, the most powerful being on Earth, feel like an awkward schoolboy with sweaty palms.

One day, you popped in the barn, saying something about "needing fresh country air." Then the next week, you were lounging in his loft like you owned it, flipping through one of his books like you weren't just sitting in the sacred space of solitude he thought only he and Lana would occupy. Then there was the time you baked cookies and just showed up at the Kent kitchen, and Clark genuinely thought Martha had invited you. She didn't.

It was like you were on a personal mission to infiltrate every square inch of his life— and you were doing it so casually that no one really questioned it. Not even Clark.

Until Pete started teasing.

"Hey, look. Your girlfriend's here."

Clark would turn with a flush in his ears. "She's not my—"

But Pete was already laughing.

Even Chloe had chimed in. "You know, Y/n's got her sights on you, right? Like a missle. Might as well surrender."

Clark had no response to that. Mainly because he had just run into you in the hallway and accidentally inhaled whatever perfume you were wearing, which now lived permanently in his brain.

You'd greet him like it was the most natural thing in the world— "Hey, Clarkie." With that little smug grin like you knew you made him nervous. And maybe you did. Okay. Fine. You definitely did.

But to be honest, Clark didn't find any of it funny anymore.

Sure, despite being one of the popular girls on campus, you never acted like it. You were popular, yeah, but not in the usual sense— people gravitated towards you because you had personality. You were brilliant in class, always raising your hand with the kind of answers that made instructors nod like proud parents. You were involved in different university organizations, and somehow, you still made the President's List every semester like it was no big deal.

Basically, you were the kind of girl that many people admire. And yet, somehow, you had decided to direct that same energy to Clark. And it wasn't subtle, either.

You brought him snacks. You had saved him a seat in the library. You texted him stupid memes at night. You even helped him with his Physics project once— and looked good doing it, too, in that annoyingly cute shirt and eyeglasses.

But Clark had brushed it all off. It's not like he didn't find you attractive. He did. Painfully so.

You were a lightning in a bottle— vibrant, driven, and bold. And he was just... Clark. The farm boy with secrets a size of a planet, who spent most of his nights chasing off meteoric weirdos and hiding his abilities from half the people in this town.

You deserved someone normal. Someone who wasn't still half-tangled in the heartbreak that was Lana Lang.

You arrived at the Kent farm with a basket in hand, your smile as sweet as the scent of the freshly baked pastries you brought.

"Oh, Y/n. You always bring something so delightful." Martha beamed, ushering you in.

Clark, leaning against the barn wall, tried not to stare. You were just... too much. Too pretty, too kind, too good to be real. His mom always looked at you with sparkling eyes, and Jonathan always seemed to feel the same way.

When the two of you were finally alone, you turned to him, hopeful.

"So... you free this Saturday?" You asked casually, hopping to sit on a slab of wood. "It's my birthday. Lex is hosting something in his house. Nothing too crazy, just a small thing. A few people, food, music. Chloe and Pete are also invited. I was hoping you could come?"

Clark looked up from the hay he was pretending to be interested in. Your eyes were soft, curious, and earnest. He hated it.

"I... uh, I might be busy. Football stuff. The season's picking up, and my parents are going to be out of town this weekend. I'll probably be covering some chores."

You blinked once and then smiled faintly.

"Oh..." You said, trying to hide your disappointment. "Well, it's open if you change your mind."

You left him a cupcake on the table. Vanilla with pink frosting and sprinkles. He didn't eat it.

And Saturday came fast.

You woke up with butterflies in your stomach. Your room was filled with balloons Lex insisted having delivered, despite your protests. "It's your birthday, Y/n. Let people celebrate you for once." He argued.

You liked Clark. A lot. It wasn't some game. Not some challenge your friends had dared you to do. You weren't being ironic. Your feelings were real— surprisingly real— and Lex had raised an eyebrow once, muttering something like, "Well, that was unexpected."

But he didn't understand. Clark was real in ways no one else around you ever was. He didn't care about money or popularity or image. He was awkward and shy, yet grounded. And you loved that about him.

So you got ready. You wore your favorite dress. You styled your hair. You told yourself he'd show up. He had to.

By 8:00 PM, the living room was warm and full of laughter. Music played softly in the background. Your friends chattered around the dinner table, passing drinks and stories.

"Clark's coming?" Lex asked you as he handed you a drink.

You shrugged, smiling tightly. "I hope so."

Chloe had shown up with a gift and a knowing smile. "Clark and Pete didn't say anything to me. But maybe they're just late."

You nodded. But the hours passed.

9.00. No Clark.

10:00. Still nothing.

By 10:30, your phone screen was painfully blank, and your stomach had started twisting into knots.

By 11:00, the guests started filtering out. Some hugged you and wished "happy birthday" with laughter and light hearts. But all you could feel was this hollow building up in your chest. He wasn't coming; he never was.

"Come on," Lex said gently, wrapping a gentle arm around your shoulders. "Let's go back inside. Stop waiting for someone who won't show."

Unbeknowst to you, Clark was not at home. Wasn't working on some chores. He was at a party across the town. A big one— loud music, red solo cups, beer pongs, too many football jerseys, and girls hanging around. Pete and Clark had been invited there, and both of them reluctantly showed up.

Clark drank a lot. Way more than he should've. But not enough to get drunk (he couldn't, anyway), but just enough to blur the guilt.

The sun hadn't even reached its peak yet when you arrived at the Kent farm, your hands cradling a tray of leftover cake—chocolate hazelnut with buttercream, the one you baked yourself because it reminded you the first time Clark ever complimented something you made. You told yourself it wasn't a big deal. Just a small peace offering. Just a way to see him.

Maybe, you thought, he regretted not showing up. Maybe you could laugh it off, hand him a slice, tell him he owed you one, and pretend like the silence between you hadn't cut through your chest the night before.

But as you reached a gravel path leading to their porch, your steps faltered. An unfamiliar girl emerged from the front door. Probably your age. Wearing one of Clark's flannel shirts, barely buttoned. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick smudged, like she had just woken up.

You took a step backwards, hiding from their line of sight.

And then came Clark. Topless. Barefoot. Looking like a tragic painting of betrayal in broad daylight, sunlight washing over his body like it was trying to make him look holy. But there was nothing sacred about the red kiss marks littering his neck or the one at the corner of his mouth.

The girl turned, smiling up at him before heading to her car. And before she got in, she tiptoed and planted a soft, small kiss on his cheek.

He smiled back. Not awkwardly. Not nervously. Like it was easy.

You quickly backed away, ducking behind the side of the barn as Clark went back inside his house. The pain burned inside of you. It was sickening and humiliating.

God, you thought, I wore my favorite dress last night just for him.

Without a second thought, you immediately found the nearest trash bin and shoved the cake in with trembling fingers. You walked away without looking back.

"Why didn't you show up at Y/n's birthday party?" Chloe asked sharply, catching Clark mid-page of the local meteor-rock incident report. Pete, just beside him, visibly flinched and gave him a look.

Clark blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." Chloe leaned across the table, arms crossed. "She was excited to see you, you know? Lex threw the thing in his house. It wasn't exactly as small as one would expect. So where were you?"

Pete tried to focus on his apple juice.

"I... we were busy. Football thing. Plus, I didn't think it was a big deal. I mean, she was always around, right? I figure she'd understand."

"Always around?"

Clark sighed. "She's just... always there, alright? Popping out of corners. Bringing pastries at 7 AM. Sitting in my loft like she owns it It's annoying. She's always tailing me, and I never asked her to."

Silence.

Even Pete stopped sipping on his juice.

And behind the bookshelves, hidden just out of sight, Y/n froze.

You had only come in to return Chloe's notes in your shared Philosophy class. You weren't even going to say hi. You were keeping your distance— just like you promised yourself.

"She's not so bad like you made it seem, Clark." You heard Chloe.

"I just want some peace," Clark muttered, clearly annoyed.

"You can't run away from her forever."

"I'd be glad to try."

But Clark didn't have to because that same week, you became an enigma after that. He didn't even have to dodge around the barn. Didn't have to wake up seeing your face first in the morning. You weren't popping in with muffins or sticking heart-shaped post-it notes around his loft window. You weren't waving at him in the hallways. You were just gone.

His brows furrowed every time he walked past your locker and found it unopened. He found himself always glancing at the entrance of their barn more than once, hoping you'd finally show up one morning. At the farmer's market, he wandered longer than necessary at the baking aisle booth, wondering if you'd suddenly walk by.

You didn't.

Jonathan asked him to take out the trash. And Clark, half annoyed, half distracted, grabbed the bin from the porch and stomped towards the compost. But when he opened the lid, he saw a cake box. Pink polka dots, cute bow— the one you always used.

His stomach dropped.

What's it doing in here?

Clark's grip on the edge of the box tightened. Guilt rolling in immediately.

You weren't annoying. You were just kind. Consistent. Loud in a good way. You liked him, and he treated it like a problem. And now, he realized what kind of an asshole he was.

He had to apologize. But he didn't know where to start. Finding you was not an easy task, either. He wandered through the halls, eyes scanning every classroom, but you weren't there. He went to the farmer's market three mornings in a row— hoping— praying— you'd be there. But you weren't.

He had gone two full weeks without a glimpse of you. He hated to admit how often he found himself pausing during the day, waiting. Hoping.

So when Lex rolled into their farm one day in one of his new ridiculously expensive cars, Clark barely noticed. He was too busy dragging the hay until he heard Lex's voice.

"Clark," Lex said, grinning. "Hope I'm not interrupting you."

And then Clark saw you.

You stepped out of the passenger seat, wearing jeans and a simple cropped tee, hair styled neatly. No designer boots. No bold lipstick. But Clark swore his lungs forgot to work.

You offered him a polite nod. "Hey, Clark."

And that was it.

Lex greeted the Kents, asking for a quick word inside. And then, it was just the two of you, sitting in silence, like strangers.

You took a seat on one of the old wooden benches, thumbing through your phone. Clark awkwardly stood by the wooden door for a few seconds, pretending to dust his hands, eyes flicking towards you every five seconds.

He cleared his throat, stepping closer. "Lex got a new car."

You didn't look up. "Yeah, Lamborghini. He won't stop talking about it."

Clark scratched the back of his neck. "It's... nice."

"Yeah."

Silence again.

"Look, I— I'm sorry about your birthday. Me and Pete... we couldn't come."

You finally glanced up. "It's okay; you were busy."

Clark nodded, unable to say something else, especially now that you seemed uninterested in what he was going to say.

Earlier that week, he had stormed inside the Torch like a man possessed. Chloe looked up from her computer with an annoyed glare.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" She snapped, clicking through the keyboard.

Clark ran a frustrated hand along his hair. "I need a bit of advice. About Y/n."

Chloe didn't even look up. "Wow. That only took, what, half the semester? You realize she's been MIA, right? Like, completely ghosted. And now you want to talk?"

Clark sighed. "Chloe, please."

She glanced up, her eyebrows shooting up when she heard how desperate and wrecked he was.

"She won't even look at me now. She used to be everywhere, and now it's like she never existed. And— I— I don't know."

"You miss her."

"I do," He admitted. "I didn't think I would, but I do. It's like— I keep looking for her. Like she's supposed to be there, and when she's not—God, Chloe. It was driving me nuts."

And then she'd told him to just talk to you. Simple. Direct. No weird detours.

So when Lex called about the delivery that Thursday, Clark had thought maybe this is it. Maybe this was the moment the universe was finally giving him another shot. He had practiced a dozen versions of the same line in his head.

But when you descended the stairs in that usual, effortless way, bored eyes locked into the screen of your phone, he realized immediately— something had changed.

"Lex isn't here." You said, eyes darting at the box he was carrying. "You can leave it in the kitchen."

"I know," He replied, a little breathless. "I was hoping you'd be home."

You paused. "Really?"

Clark nodded, setting down the box of fruits and vegetables. "Been doing alright?"

You shrugged. "Same old. You?"

"Maybe." He shifted nervously. "I— I'm free this Saturday. If you wanted to— I dunno, go by the lake with us. Just hanging out."

You looked at him. "You don't have to pretend, you know?"

Clark blinked. "Pretend? I— I wasn't—"

"It's fine, Clark. If you don't like me, you could just say it to my face. I'm a smart girl, Clark. I'll understand whatever reason you have."

"But I don't—" He tried to move forward, to explain, but you were already walking away from him.

Down Main Street, past the closed café and the silent bookstore, hands in his jacket pockets, brows furrowed so deeply, Clark found himself walking in the streets of Smallville. His boots scuffed against the pavement with every distracted step, and his mind was loud— too loud.

He was driving himself mad.

So when Lex pulled up next to him in his Lamborghini, rolling down the window and watching Clark with one raised brow, it was hard to look anywhere but embarrassed.

“Late night for a stroll,” Lex said casually, but his eyes were sharp. Observing. “Don’t tell me the world’s strongest farm boy is out here moping.”

Clark gave him a dry look but didn’t deny it. Didn’t even try.

Lex tilted his head. “You look like hell.”

“I feel like it,” Clark muttered.

Lex leaned his elbow on the edge of his window. “This about Y/N?”

Clark stopped walking.

Lex gave a small, knowing smile. “Figured.” There was silence for a beat, and then Lex said, almost thoughtfully, “You know… You really got the wrong idea about her.”

"Clark looked down. "Oh, yeah?"

Lex looked away briefly before adding, “Did you know that she waited by the door longer than she’d ever admit on her birthday? Kept peeking at the window, fixing her dress— her favorite one. And then, when you didn't show up, I know that broke her heart.”

Clark swallowed hard. "I..." He shook his head, trying so hard to convey coherent words but failing to do so.

“Don’t screw this up, Kent,” Lex said more gently now. “You think you’re the only one scared? That girl was brave enough to love you in front of everyone. Maybe it’s your turn.”

Clark didn’t speak. He just reached into his pocket, pulled out his truck keys, and offered them to Lex.

Lex raised a brow. “What’s this?”

“I need your car,” Clark said, almost urgently.

Lex blinked. “You’re not going to wreck it, are you?”

“No promises,” Clark replied, already moving.

Lex rolled his eyes, but tossed him the keys anyway. “She’s at my house. Kitchen. Baking. Don’t ask what time it is.”

Clark was already gone before the sentence ended, a streak of blur and hope trailing behind him.

You were baking again.

It was your comfort. Your reset button. The world could fall apart but give you flour, eggs, and your favorite playlist and you could pretend everything was fine for a few hours.

You didn’t expect to hear tires screech in Lex’s driveway. Didn’t expect heavy, rushed footsteps across the porch. Didn’t expect the door to swing open like something out of a dramatic rom-com.

Clark Kent stood there, breathless.

Hair wind-swept. Cheeks flushed. Eyes wild with emotion. He looked like he’d run across all of Smallville just to get here. He had.

“Y/N..."

You blinked at him, surprised, a spoon still in your hand. “Clark?”

“I— I need to talk to you,” he said, stepping inside before you could shut him out. “Please. Just hear me out. I won’t screw it up this time.”

“Clark, I’m kind of—busy—”

“Please.”

You froze.

“I was stupid, okay?” He said. “I was scared. You’re… everything. You’re so vibrant and loud and brilliant, and I thought I wasn’t enough for that. I thought I couldn’t keep up with someone like you. But I was wrong. You make me better.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Clark beat you to it again.

“I like you,” He breathed. “I really like you. And I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t. I don’t want to keep lying to myself that losing you is somehow better than facing how much I care.”

You stared at him, heart thudding. “Clark…”

He looked desperate. “Please say something.”

“I liked you first. But that doesn’t mean I want to be someone you settle for. I don’t want to be some spontaneous decision because you’re lonely.”

Clark shook his head, stepping closer. “You’re not. You’re not a decision. You’re the only thing I’m sure of right now.”

There was still doubt in your eyes. Still guardedness.

So Clark did the only thing he could think of to prove he meant every word.

He kissed you.

Gently at first— carefully, like you were made of glass. But then you responded, melting into it with a small sigh, hands finding his chest, and it deepened— slow and sweet and real.

When you finally pulled away, slightly breathless and a little dazed, he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You’re it for me,” He whispered. “I didn’t see it before. But I do now.”

You smiled, just a little. “You’re gonna owe me, Clarkie.”

“I’ll bake,” He offered.

You laughed. “You can’t even toast a bread.”

He grinned, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “Then I’ll learn.”

©kjhbsies

[norrisainz33]

protect your peace || ls18

summary: you and lance keep your lives pretty private and so it's no surprise when you keep a really big secret from the world!

pairing: lance stroll x wife!latina!reader

fc& warnings: karol g and some hate comments, mentions of pregnancy and poorly translated spanish

requested: yes!! thank you for your patience xoxo

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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user1: who cares

user2: omg pls let this be true lance and y/n would make sure good parents

user3: respectfully no one cares about y/n and lance

user4: y/n really did disappear hold on.. she hasn't been in the paddock since australia and she hasn't posted a photo dump since winter break

user5: hope its not them i truly don't care about y/nlance

ynstroll has posted to their story

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user4: so cutieful but i am noticing the crop here

yourbff: spoilleedddddd

ynstroll: hes always taken good care of me but ever since we found out he's gone above and beyond

yourbff: i mean AS HE SHOULD!!! you are the perfect, beautiful, gorgeous woman carrying his child

ynstroll: can you believe you're going to be an auntie?

yourbff: no! but i cant wait!!!

user1: yeah your husband is rich we get it

lance_stroll: i hope you enjoyed your day my beautiful girl!

ynstroll: i had the best time!! thank you for coordinating and for getting chloe to come with me. you are so incredibly thoughtful even when you're not here

lance_stroll: its been killing me that i can't be there with you

ynstroll: i know but you are busy scoring points for us my love! plus you'll be home for a summer break soon

user2: you've got a glow about you

flavy.barla: prettiest girl in the world

ynstroll: 😭🤍

user6: a rare y/n appearance! that spa must have really hit

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, chloestroll, estebanocon, ynstroll, scottyjames31, pierregasly, and 875,324 others

lance_stroll: slowing down for a while 💙

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f1gossip: convenient cropping

chloestroll: sunshine for my sunshines

ynstroll: and it is much needed 🤍

user1: you’re usually pretty slow mate

estebanocon: enjoy mon ami

lance_stroll: 💙

user4: y/n front and center as she should be

ynstroll: always thankful for you and summer break 🤍

lance_stroll: one day summer break will be every day

ynstroll: looking forward to it

user3: will never understand why she chose you

flavy.barla had posted to her private story

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iamrebeccad: GORGEOUS

flavy.barla: no you

ynstroll: i love youuuuu 😭🤍

flavy.barla: i love you more my wonderful best friend 🤍

lance_stroll: thanks for celebrating with us flavy😘

flavy.barla: i wouldn’t have wanted to celebrate with anyone else!! i love you both so much and can’t wait to see what wonderful parents you two make 😘

estebanocon: 🥹❤️

flavy.barla: 🤍🤍🤍🤍

chloestroll: two of the prettiest girls in the entire world

flavy.barla: merci mon ange 🤍

ynstroll has posted to their private story

[only 3 more days until we meet our baby girl!!]

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flavy.barla: it’s actually criminal how beautiful you are

ynstroll: you’re the sweetest. i’m so thankful to have had you here with me through this all

flavy.barla: aww mon ange!! you are my best friend and i sincerely can’t imagine a world in which i wouldn’t be by your side 😭❤️

chloestroll: you’re glowing

ynstroll: i actually feel radiant but also i feel really ready to get ms girl out!!

chloestroll: i totally know the feeling. you’re almost there mama!

yourbff: MILF!!!!!!! wait who said that

ynstroll: must have been the wind!!

lance_stroll: i can’t wait to meet her!! i love her so much already my heart may explode

ynstroll: same!!! i’m so excited. i can’t wait to be her mommy and daddy 🤍

lance_stroll: you’re going to make the best mom in the whole world

ynstroll: i really hope so 😭

lance_stroll: i know so! you are the best mom to our puppy and the most caring and thoughtful person i’ve ever met. our little princess is in the best possible hands

ynstroll: i love you lance

lance_stroll: i love you more my beautiful wife

estebanocon: i’m so excited to be an uncle 🥹🤍

ynstroll: and i’m so excited for you to be an uncle!!!

iamrebeccad: carlos and i have been training for our auntie and uncle duties! house is officially baby proofed

ynstroll: no why am i actually crying my eyes out right now. you and carlos are going to be the best aunt and uncle ever! baby stroll is so so so lucky to have people like you guys in her court 🤍

lance_stroll has posted to his private story

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yourbff: i’m screaming i can’t wait i can’t wait i can’t wait!!!! im in the car right now on my way to the hospital!!!

lance_stroll: we just got here and she’s asking for you!! hurry up !!!!

yourbff: oh my god i’ll be there in 2 minutes

chloestroll: AHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! IM OMW!!!!!!

lance_stroll: i’m freaking out please hurry

chloestroll: you’ve got this my sweet baby brother!!! it’ll be ok!! i’m pulling up now.

estebanocon: sending you both all of my love! i can’t wait to see the little princess stroll 🤍

lance_stroll: merci estie 😘

flavy.barla: best news!! praying for a safe delivery for mama and the beautiful little girl 🤍

lance_stroll: thank you flavy! i’ll keep you up to date

iamrebeccad: make sure you take care of our girls 😘

lance_stroll: i will do my best!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: i’ve actually never been more excited for something ever in my life

lance_stroll: SAME

ynstroll has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, flavy.barla, yourbff, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen1, lando, estebanocon, and 876,239 others

ynstroll: the happiest we’ve ever been. welcome to the world little girl! your mommy and daddy love you more than life itself. gracias por elegirnos [thank you for choosing us] 🩷

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yourbff: brb crying in the club

ynstroll: me too

user1: hid the whole thing that’s wild

ynstroll: it’s called protecting our peace 😘 [liked by lance_stroll, estebanocon, yourbff, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen1, lando, flavy.barla, iamrebeccad, alexandrasaintmleux and more]

lance_stroll: the strength you have shown has been nothing short of inspiring. i am so thankful to be sharing this life with you and now our little girl 🩷

ynstroll: thankful for a husband like you 🩷

user4: getting a little parasocial rn no one look at me!!! i’m so excited for you both

astonmartinf1: welcome to the team princess stroll 💚

ynstroll: gotta get her in some am gear quick

user2: another milf and dilf have entered the villa

iamrebeccad: beautiful mama

ynstroll: beautiful auntie

user12: cutest family on the grid

flavy.barla: the best parents to the best little girl 🤍

ynstroll: love you big time auntie flavy 😘

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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