#oh clarky

[wixenburr]

everyone else, probably; (giving in-depth analysis of my adventures with superman on why its good and where it falls off)

me and bestie, watching it together: EEEEEEEEEEE HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE CLARKIE POOOOO HES SO CUUUUUTE LOOK AT HIMMM AAAAA OH NO CLARKIE POO DONT GET HURT!! OHHHH NOOOO!!!!! OHHH YESSS HES BACK UP YEAHHH CLARK YOU GOT THIS WOOO YEAH BABYGIRL YOU GO!!!! and aWWWWW LOIS!! awwWWWW JIMMY!!! AWWWW THEYRE A TRIO!! THE CUTIE PIES!!!!

[lothirielswandc]

TEAM DAMIRAE OR TEAM KONRAE?

Superman & Batman

Bruce Wayne: You're really asking us that question?

Clark Kent: I think it’d be nice to have Raven as a daughter in-law. 

Bruce Wayne: You can't have her, Kent. She’s too cool. And she fits our aesthetic better.

Clark Kent: You’re Batman: you literally adopt everybody. You tried to adopt Barry once. And you already have Kory, you can't take Raven, too!

Bruce Wayne: She’s already hitting it off with our villains.

Clark Kent: Raven and Luthor could get along; they both meditate and share a genuine disgust towards people.

Bruce Wayne: I can already hear the future screams ringing out from that scenario. 

Nightwing & Starfire

Dick Grayson: Yeah, Damian’s just a more decent human being around Rachel, so...you know. 

Koriand'r: You know, if I married you, and Raven married Damian, we could both have a double wedding AND we’d be sister in-laws. *gasps* We could take one of those family photos on the beach together, where we’re all in the white shirts and denim and we’re jumping! Wouldn't that be so amazing? 

Raven & Superboy

Rachel Roth: Um…

Conner Kent: You're really being put on the spot here.

Rachel Roth: I am. 

Conner Kent: I can make a suggestion, if you like, milady.

Rachel Roth: Thanks...milord. *shakes head and bites back a smile*

Poison Ivy & Zatanna

Poison Ivy: Ugh, it's such a hard decision! Raven and Robin have so much in common—and if Raven started dating him, she could stay in Gotham more. But Superboy has a much sweeter personality.

Zatanna Zatara: I know! And they’re both so good-looking.

Poison Ivy: Oh yeah, they’re heart throbs.

Zatanna Zatara: If I were a teenage girl, I would probably be obsessed with them.

Poison Ivy: Creepy, but relatable. Who would you choose, then?

Zatanna Zatara: Oh boy. Um...I think I would go with Damian. He’s so dark and mysterious. And Raven told me that he lets her cut bagels with his samurai swords.

Poison Ivy: He's a keeper.

Zatanna Zatara: Yep. Plus Conner’s advanced hearing would make me feel so uncomfortable. What if he hears me crunching on potato chips a room over or something? 

Poison Ivy: I don't think I could date someone who could hear everything. 

Harley Quinn & John Constantine

John Constantine: Superboy. He'll be easier to kill if he breaks my kid’s heart.

Harley Quinn: Aww. Dad goals. 

John Constantine: And he’s nice and all...also it would really piss off Clarky to have a closer relationship with me. 

Harley Quinn: So, basically, Team Superboy for revenge and spite. I LOVE it! 

Cyborg & Shazam

Billy Batson: Team Jacob :D

Victor Stone: Dude. No. 

Beast Boy & Blue Beetle

Garfield Logan: You know, I actually used to have a HUGE crush on Raven.

Jaime Reyes: Seriously? Wow, it's hard to imagine the two of you together. Is this the hidden ship? It would be super weird if, after all of this, she ended up with you.

Garfield Logan: HAHAHAHAHAHA......yeah.

[female-buckets]

Brink bobbing her head to the music and Clark staring off into the distance 😭😭

https://x.com/slowlyslide/status/1795658229097357359?s=46&t=W4sfjN8ds9jt445V8O3Uyw

Oh Clarkie. She's going through it huh

I've been electing not to comment on Fever discourse because I just wanted to let things play out. But I'm starting to think Clark's fans are right about the coach and the environment on the team being weird.

Honestly the Fever were better last year when they had only 4000 fans and zero expectations. They were improving. They were like a little fungus slowly growing in the darkness while no one watched. That was their team identity. And now someone has come and exposed them to sunlight and they're shriveling up.

The Fever are not like the Aces because the Aces got to grow in the darkness without the national scrutiny. During the Aces five year stretch of being very very very bad, no one saw. No one really cared.

But every single Fever mistake is now being seen by millions.

[fickle-tiction]

Like an Old Married Couple

  “Oh, you two are in for it when this is over.” Despite her words, Diana didn’t actually seem mad as she tested Clark’s grip around her wrists. She could wiggle a miniscule amount, and she knew from past experiences that in time she would be able to pull free. Then the two men hovering above her would regret every choice they made that morning.

“This wasn’t my idea. If anyone should die, it’s Clark.” Bruce was kneeling on the bed next to Diana, hands resting on his thighs for the time being. Clark was sitting on the tops of her thighs, effectively pinning her in place. For now.

“Doesn’t matter.” Diana was rotating her wrists in Clark’s hold as she spoke. Clark pressed them further into the mattress. “You’re helping him, therefore you will go down with him.”

Bruce knew retaliation was inevitable when he agreed to help Clark, so he just smirked at his girlfriend. “Well then, Princess, I see no reason to show you any mercy.”

“Whatever you do to me, I will do back in double.” 

There was a 50/50 chance that was true. Bruce didn’t love those odds. “Eh, you’re not that mean.”

“Can you two stop flirting and get to the tickling?” Clark actually sounded a little winded, which was concerning and also a little annoying if you were Bruce. He didn’t even break a sweat when Bruce was the one being held down. “I can’t actually hold her down forever.”

“See? It was all his idea. And now I think he’s feeling left out” Bruce turns to Clark with a mocking smirk on his face. “Are you feeling left out, Clarkie?”

“Keep it up and you’ll be in her spot next.” Bruce would never say it out loud, but just the thought of that had phantom tingles racing up and down his nerves.

“This is why you two never manage to get me. You bicker like an old married couple, and by the time you remember I’m here I’ve already gotten free.” Diana wrenched her left hand out of Clark’s grip with a triumphant laugh, but it was quickly caught by Bruce and slammed back onto the bed, where Clark resumed his hold.

“Do I need to hold her down for you?” 

“Just get to it.” Clark grunted, struggling to keep his hold on Diana’s wrists as she relentlessly tried to squirm out of his grip.

“Strongest man in the world, my ass.” Bruce muttered, just before his wiggling fingers descended on Diana’s triceps. 

“Bruce!” Diana shouted before quickly dissolving into delighted laughter. Diana always gave in immediately, happy to release her inhibitions and enjoy the game. It was very different to Bruce, who’s laughter had to be dragged out of him after a lot of grumbling and grunting, until he can’t hold it in any longer. Fortunately, he had no qualms about laughing as one of his partners is being taken apart.

“Yes?” He teased, tickling fingers migrating down into her exposed armpits. Diana’s eyes reflexively snapped shut as deep belly laughs were drawn out of her. “Now where is your favorite spot, again?” As though he could ever forget. “Was it here?” He began tapping at that awful spot between armpit and upper ribs. The spot that made all of them jolt and try to squirm away like their lives depended on it.

“You wi-hihihihi-ll regret th-hihihihi-is!” 

“Was it her neck?” Clark asked. Just because his hands were occupied with holding him down didn’t mean he couldn’t suggest spots for Bruce to try.

“It might have been.” Bruce traced his blunt fingernails over the delicate skin of Diana’s neck. She tossed her head side to side to try to dislodge the fingers as giggles began to pour out of her. He let up after a few seconds when her laughter started to sound frantic.

“Or was it her thighs?” Bruce’s smile was scary when it was being directed at you and you couldn’t move. 

“Ihihihi am going to ti-hihih-ickle your ears until they fall off.” How did she manage to sound so terrifying when she was still laughing and smiling?

“This was his idea!” Bruce insisted, jamming a finger into Clark’s unprotected ribs to emphasize his point.

Clark inhaled sharply, body twitching since he couldn’t bring an arm down to protect himself. “What are you talking about, B? You asked me to hold her down.”

“I did not!” Bruce should have known Clark would try to pin this on him to save himself from revenge. He should have seen it coming, but noooo. He had to go and trust that his boyfriend would have his back since he agreed to help him out in the first place. He was in a relationship with two traitors. 

“One of you is going down for this.” Diana sounded far too calm for someone who was shaking with laughter a minute ago. 

Bruce knew he had to act fast, or he was going to end up flat on his back. It was now or never. He locked eyes with Diana for a second before he attacked, burying his fingers into Clark’s open armpits and wiggling them furiously.

Clark went down like a sack of potatoes, collapsing onto Diana as his arms gave out. “You hahaha fucking tr-hahaha-traitor!” Clark cackled, arms clamped to his sides as Bruce’s hands roamed his body in search of every sensitive spot he could reach.

Bruce climbed on top of Clark’s back, knowing his added weight wouldn’t hurt Diana. “You were going to throw me under the bus.” Bruce pointed out as he wedged his hand between their bodies to tickle at Clark’s stomach.

Diana was using her now free hands to tweak Clark’s sides, and Bruce seized the opportunity to tickle her armpit with his other hand. “Wouldn’t want you feeling left out, down there.” 

Yeah, that might have been his fatal mistake.

Diana ceased her attack on Clark’s sides and leaned in to whisper something into his ear. Bruce froze, eyes wide with panic. Diana was smirking at him, and Clark was shifting beneath him.

“Wait.” Bruce started, pressing down harder on Clark, to no effect. “Let’s talk about this.” 

One second Bruce was laying on Clark’s back, Diana beneath the two of them; The next he was wrapped in Clark’s arms, his back to Clark’s chest, and Diana was straddling his waist. “Oh fuck.” Bruce breathed, a nervous smile already stretching across his face.

“We didn’t want you feeling left out.” Diana smirked. Bruce’s arms were free, and his hands were hovering in front of himself in anticipation.

“This was his ide-heeeeeeaaaaa.” Bruce’s words turned into a screech when Clark leaned forward to nose behind his ear midsentence. 

“That may be.” Diana was prodding random spots on his torso, delighted to watch him squirm away from any real good ones she managed to find. “But you betrayed him. And now you must pay.” 

“Ihihihi was helping you!” Bruce was trying, unsuccessfully, to fight his laughter as Diana gently dug into his abs.

“And I was helping you.” Clark spoke up, lips against Bruce’s neck sending ticklish vibrations into the skin. 

“Ihihihihi-it wasn’t my-hihihihihi idea!”

“If you two could stop bickering long enough to tire me out, neither of you would be in this position.” Naturally, Diana used one hand to squeeze the spot above Bruce’s hip that drove him wild, while the other hand squeezed the muscle above Clark’s knee, drawing startled laughter out of him.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Clark laughed, unable to pull his leg away without hurting Bruce. He had no choice but to leave it where it was and take it. Naturally, the only course of action was to take it out on Bruce, so he attack his ribs with vigor. 

“Shihihihit!” Bruce laughed, squirming every which way on instinct. He was alternating between trying to capture someone, anyone’s, hands, and trying to fight back by tickling any spot he could reach.

This went on for another few minutes, during which Bruce received the brunt of the attacks since he was in the middle. When he couldn’t take anymore, he mustered up enough breathe to yell out “Truce! Tru-hahah-truce! Plehehehease!” 

It was the “please” that really did it. All hands withdrew, and Clark loosened his grip around Bruce’s middle. Instead of shooting to the other side of the bed, like they expected, Bruce slumped back against Clark, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Diana collapsed on the bed next to them, laughing, her arm slung loosely over both of their middles.

“I am never helping either of you again.” Bruce huffed, a tired smile still on his face.

“Neither am I.” Clark laughed, running his palms up and down Bruce’s stomach and chest to sooth what he knew were now  jittery nerves.

“It wasn’t my idea.” Bruce insisted.

“It wasn’t mine.”

“Yes. It was.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

Diana huffed, rolling her eyes fondly as her partners continued to bicker like an old married couple beside her.

[kent-farm]

Uh-oh. Does Clarkie have the sniffles?

—Lois, Smallville, "Sneeze"

[dreamy625]

One-shot - Barbie

Content: Casual drinking and smoking

Words: 2670

-----------------------------

Steve is considering a third drink and determinedly ignoring the clock over the bar as it ticks on from fashionably late to may-as-well-not-bother when he hears in a throaty drawl from behind him:

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns…”

His face breaks into a broad grin, “Barbie!”

“Don’t…” she kisses him on one cheek, “...call me Barbie...” and then the other, “Stevie.”

She hops up on the neighbouring bar stool and reaches for the pack of cigarettes in front of him.

“I knew it was you the second I saw your hair; still bulk-buying the peroxide I see!”

“Still putting your lipstick on with a trowel I see!” he counters, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand before waving to the bartender. “Gin and tonic, no ice, lime not lemon. And another one of these please.”

“So what brings you to my part of town? Do they not have pubs in Chelsea?”

“I’m supposed to be at a party. Industry bigwigs. Journalists. Mensch is making me go.”

“To prove you haven’t been kicked out of the band?”

“You’ve heard the rumours then?”

“Oh yes. But then I also heard you married a stripper and moved to Vegas, so…” she shrugs.

“That sounds more fun. Nah, it just goes on like it always does - do this, do that, don’t do that. The same old merry-go-round. Ages to go on the new record before we can get back out on the road again.” Their drinks arrive and he pushes a five-pound note across the bar. “And you’ve been conspicuous by your absence this past year, what have you been up to?”

“Oh you know, bit of writing, bit of design work. Plying my trade wherever they’ll have me.”

“How many countries this time?”

“Only three so far this year - Greece, Japan, and LA of course.”

“Ahh, jealous, I loved Japan. I’ve just gone back and forth to Dublin about four million times. Joe built his own studio,” he explains.

“Convenient.”

“For Joe it is. Phil’s in the US and Rick’s back in Holland, so the rest of us are clocking up a lot of airmiles.”

“You’ve not considered moving?”

“Nah, I’m settled where I am. Travelling’s good, but I want somewhere to come home to, somewhere that speaks proper English.” 

There’s something he’s carefully not saying and Barbara, of course, hears it loud and clear. “So where’s that American girlfriend of yours?”

“Which one?” asks Steve, lighting another cigarette and offering the packet to his companion. “Don’t matter anyway, answer’s the same - gone, got sick of me and buggered off to pastures new.”

“Oh sweetheart,” She pats his hand before reaching for the matches. “Always unlucky in love.” 

“Ain’t that the truth. Inexplicable really,” he looks down at the countertop before flicking his eyes up to hers, “when I have such good taste in women.”

Barbara laughs, not quite the reaction he’d been hoping for. “Very good Clarkie, have you been practising that?”

“Whaddya mean, works every time.” He turns his head to hide the blush threatening to colour his cheeks and motions to the barman for more drinks. Serves him right for assuming. Changing tack, he asks, “Are you here on your own?”

“Are you about to ask what a nice girl like me is doing in a place like this?”

“I know what you’re doing in here - chatting up strange men so you can pinch their cigarettes! I merely wished to enquire about your social arrangements.”

“Ah, very proper. I came in with some people from the magazine I’ve been writing for, but they’re going for a curry, so I guess I’m footloose and fancy free.”

“Good to know, thank you kindly.” He stubs out the cigarette, pondering his next move…

“Do you want to drink that?” She nods at the double brandy the bartender has just placed in front of him. “Or do you want to come home with me?”

“Can’t I do both?”

“From past experience, no,” smirks Barbara with a flick of her eyes down to his lap.

Steve blinks once before making the fastest decision of his life, pushing the glass back across the bar and dropping down from the bar stool almost in one movement.

A short walk brings them to a three-storey townhouse, not unlike his own, but this one, and the others in the terrace, has been split into flats and has the slightly dilapidated, uncared-for look common to buildings housing an ever-changing population of tenants. Barbara’s flat is on the third floor; high ceilings and fancy wallpaper, but just two rooms. Almost every time he saw her, she was living in a different short-term rental, squat, or half-empty house-sitting gig. The perpetual rolling stone, wherever she lay her hat was her home; although in Barbara’s case the ‘hat’ was three tea chests full of books and records, scarves and tapestries from far-flung places to cover every surface, and a stuffed parrot on a perch. Which meant that every place looked and smelt the same - like a poorly-kept antique store - and Steve would always feel himself being watched by a beady avian eye as he stumbled around in the middle of the night looking for yet another unfamiliar bathroom.

“So let me give you the tour.” Barbara takes three steps into the middle of the living room and does a slow twirl with her arms out. “This concludes our tour.”

“Nice. Frank’s looking well.” He waves to the parrot, so-named for its uncanny resemblance to Frank Zappa, receiving the usual glass-eyed stare in return. 

“So, d’you want a drink?” 

Steve shakes his head. 

“Or coffee?”

Another shake.

“Or…”

Steve smiles a lazy smile. “C’mere.”

Barbara tilts her chin up in mock defiance, but walks towards his open arms, peeling her coat off as she goes.

“I’ve missed you, Barbie.”

“Don’t call me…” The rest of the sentence dissolves into a muffled ‘mmph’ as Steve presses his lips to hers.

Her eager response is both exciting and warmly familiar - hers is a body he knows so well and returns to with delight - and as he works on ridding them both of extraneous clothing on the way to the bedroom, his only concern is picking the correct closed door and not ending up in a broom cupboard!

Later, satisfied and spent, with his girl curled up next to him and tracing drowsy circles on his chest, he lets his mind wander through memories of their long and convoluted relationship. 

Barbara had always roused a mixture of emotions. She was beautiful, charming, clever, and had a worldly sophistication that had been incredibly exotic to a boy who’d barely left Yorkshire. He’d been mesmerised by her from the first meeting, and the years of chance encounters and brief liaisons had done little to diminish her allure. On one hand, she was easy to be with, probably one of, no, the only, person he felt completely comfortable with. She didn’t expect anything of him, or want anything from him. Other than the obvious, which he gave gladly and enthusiastically. Even then, on the few occasions too much booze had made that impossible, she seemed equally happy to sort herself out (which in itself had been a notable lesson in his education in the ways of the modern woman). But on the other hand, why didn’t she want more? Why did she always slip from his grasp just when he’d started to believe that this was more than a dalliance? For Steve, who’d always fallen in love so easily and so completely, the only conclusion was that there was something wrong with him - why else would you so willingly let someone into your bed, but be so unwilling to let them into your heart? His only comfort was that she was, at least, consistent in her inconsistency; each time she would wriggle free but, eventually, there would be another postcard, another message on the answerphone. And each time there would be a tiny spark of hope; this time, maybe this time, she was tired of wandering… 

Steve woke to the sound of a lorry reversing, watery sunlight sneaking through the gap in the curtains, and absolutely no idea where he was. Then he registered the warmth of another body loosely spooned against his back and the familiar scent of Yves Saint Laurent Opium. Oh yeah. With a smile on his face he drifts back to sleep.

The second time he wakes is less peaceful - it sounds like someone in the street repeatedly throwing a tin bath down a flight of stairs.

Beside him, Barbara yawns and mutters, “Bin day.” And then, “What time is it?”

He gropes for his watch discarded on the bedside table and squints at the dial. “Just gone nine.”

She groans and rolls out of bed, lifting a silk dressing gown from its hook on the back of the door before vanishing through it. Steve hears the protesting grumble of an old cistern and then running water. Sliding reluctantly from under the warm heavy quilt, he picks up his shirt from the floor and, pulling it on, follows the sound to a tiny bathroom housed in what he can only assume was originally, before the advent of indoor plumbing, a cupboard. Manoeuvring past Barbara - standing at the sink squeezing toothpaste from a crumpled tube - he pisses in the practically antique toilet and pulls the chain. Putting an arm around either side of her, he rinses his hands under the running tap, giving an involuntary shudder at the icy temperature. He shakes off the water, ‘accidentally’ flicking a few drops at Barbara’s face, which makes her wrinkle up her nose, then wraps his arms around her. She squeaks as his cold hands make contact, but he just hugs tighter. Looking in the mirror above the basin, and trying to ignore whatever sticking-up tangle his hair has knitted itself into overnight, he studies their combined reflection.

When they first got together they’d seemed an ill-suited pairing - he, younger in both looks and life experience than his nineteen years, and she, at thirty, a woman in her prime living a life packed with travel and culture. To the casual observer they may have appeared more like teacher and student than lovers. But they shared the same slightly off-the-wall sense of humour, and the same hunger to see the world and devour all it had to offer, and they had been instantly compatible in the bedroom, so it had worked well enough in the short snatches of time they had together. Now, time and, let’s be honest, a less-than-healthy lifestyle, had turned Steve’s once boyish features into something still handsome but more weathered than one might expect at twenty-nine, while Barbara, aside from a few deepened lines around her eyes, had barely aged in the intervening ten years. Their faces in the mirror matched, they looked like a real couple. 

“Do you have to go to work?” When she shakes her head, the brush still in her mouth, he ducks his head and kisses her neck just beneath her ear. “Come back to bed then.”

Afterwards, propped up against crumpled pillows and sharing the last cigarette in the packet, Steve feels a rare sense of calm and contentment, clear-headed and with a pleasant ache in a few muscles he hadn’t given that kind of workout in a while.

“We could go out for breakfast? Or do anything really. What would you like to do?”

“What I’d like to do is lie on a chaise longue sipping a mimosa, but what I actually have to do is pack and fly to Buenos Aires at six o’clock.”

Steve’s face falls. “Buenos Aires? What for?”

“An editing job. One of those Rough Guide-type things.”

“When will you be back?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s a one-way ticket.” She glances around the once-grand but now rather tatty bedroom. “I’m subletting my sublet, so there’s nothing I need to come back for.”

“Nothing?” asks Steve, trying not to pout.

“Oh darling,” she reaches out a hand and presses her finger against the protruding lip, “don’t look at me like that. I’ll always be there for you, you know that. It’ll just be on the other end of a phone line for a while. Or you’re bound to be in Argentina sooner or later.”

Steve drops his head onto her shoulder. He knows how this will go, how it always goes, but he can’t stop himself. “But what if I want more than the occasional phone call?”

He feels more than hears her sigh. “You can’t always have what you want.”

“But why not?”

“Because you don’t just want more, you want everything - the wife waiting at home with your dinner on the table, the 2.4 apple-cheeked children, a lawn to mow on a Sunday morning. You want happy ever after. And that’s not what I want. I couldn’t do that if I tried.”

“But it must mean something, that we keep ending up together? Maybe you are meant to be my fairytale ending.”

“Sweetie, we shagged in a closet the night we met, that’s not a fairytale, that’s a Jackie Collins novel!”

“That was your idea! I was nineteen, I’d never met anyone like you, what was I going to do? Say no? I’d’ve bought you a candlelit dinner if you’d let me!”

“You would as well. You were such a sweet little thing.”

Steve attempts to refute this with a growling sneer, but Barbara just laughs and pats his leg. 

“Anyway, my big tough rockstar, unless you’re going to help me pack, I think it’s time for you to get going. There’s probably still a couple of teabags left. I will forgo my usual disdain of domesticity and make you a cup of tea while you get dressed?”

“Ohh-kaay,” he agrees reluctantly, shivering as she throws back the duvet.

In the kitchenette, she hands him a mug of dark brown liquid. “Sorry, the milk was making a determined effort to become cheese. But it is Yorkshire tea so…”

“Aye, that’ll do. Glad you got something from me at least.”

“Everything else cleared up with penicillin.”

“Cheeky!”

Barbara starts to load plates, washed and unwashed, into a cardboard box. “Pass me those spoons would you.” She drops them haphazardly on top of the crockery. “That girlfriend of yours, is it really over?”

“Yeah. She went off with someone else. Bit of a relief if I’m honest. Not my best decision ever.”

“Not her, the other one, the model.”

“Lorelei.” Steve leans back against the fridge and gazes at the flaking paint on the ceiling. “I royally fucked that one up. No way back there.” 

“That’s sad. She seemed nice.”

“She is nice. Too nice. She deserves better.”

Barbara moves to stand in front of him. There is love in her expression, but also something steely. 

She reaches up and strokes his cheek. “You’re too hard on yourself. Your perfect girl is out there somewhere, I know it.”

“In Argentina?” he asks plaintively.

She shakes her head, “Don’t.” She takes the mug from his hand, pours the dregs down the sink, and adds it to the box. 

Steve understands that he’s being dismissed and picks up his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Now, do you want custody of Frank? I’m not sure the new tenants will appreciate him.”

Steve eyes the slightly moth-eaten bird without enthusiasm. “No offence Frank, but you’re not much of a substitute.”

By the door, he bends to pull on his boots, then pats his pockets - keys, wallet, matches, must remember to get more ciggies on the way home. 

“Bye then. Have a good trip.”

“I’ll write. Promise.”

“You’d better.” He pulls her into a tight hug and drops a kiss on her forehead. “Look after yourself, okay.”

“Don’t worry, I always do.” 

She slides back the bolt and opens the door wide onto the shabby, faintly cabbagey-smelling, landing. Steve looks back as he reaches the stairs, but the door is already closed.

-----------------------------

I’m sorry, I had to break his heart just a tiny bit :/

For context, irl Barbara Salisbury was Steve’s on and off lover from the very early days (she was a publicist for their first record company) until, well, it’s not clear if they ever stopped seeing each other. She was described as very independent and free-spirited and I often wonder how our romantic traditionalist coped with that.

[war-dawrgz]

clark connors x ftm!reader | what he don't know

minors dni [16+]

word count| 2,027

warnings| Bathroom Sex, Public Sex, Caught, Degradation, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex

p.s| I was very very high when I wrote this and did not check it over

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You are chatting with Tito, Zack Sabre Jr, Kosei Fujita, and Shane Haste when Clark comes up to you, putting your drink on the table next to Tito, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the group without saying a word. You can hear Zack chuckling about how your pup got needy as you are pulled away. You try to question him but he glares at you once and you immediately shut up. He pulls you through the crowd of the bar, leading you to god knows where. He pulls you into the men’s restroom, not even bothering to lock the door or pulling you into a stall. He pins you against the counter where the sinks and mirrors are, glaring dangerously at you.

“What was that?” His voice is low, you can tell that it is full of anger but you don’t know why.

“What was what?” You ask softly, trying not to feel turned on by the look that he is giving you. 

“You know what I’m talking about. Cozying up with Fooj… Fooj of all people.” You can’t help but chuckle softly causing Clark to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. “It’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s not like that, Clarkie. I was just chatting with them, haven’t seen them in a while. We were just catching up.” Clark lets out a low growl, “What? You know something that I don’t?” 

Clark doesn’t respond, instead he licks your neck, instantly shutting off your brain. He smirks before littering small hickeys on your neck. Your hands curl around his shirt, trying to pull him closer. He growls against your skin, 

“Gonna show that fucking kid that you’re mine.” You nod excitedly, not entirely sure what he means. He sucks a dark hickey right in the middle of your neck, right where everyone will see it. You try to warn Clark about leaving too many marks but it falls on deaf ears. He keeps sucking marks on your neck before biting right where your shoulder connects to your neck. You yelp at the pain, grabbing at Clark to pull him away but he stands his ground. 

“Cl-Clark.” You whine out, he pulls away from your neck, smirking as he looks at you.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He can’t help the cocky smile that plays on his lips, he knows that you are right where he wants you. 

“Need you.” His smile only grows, 

“You have me.” 

“Come on, Clark. Please, I need you.. Bad.” He pecks your lips, giving into you. He quickly pulls off your shirt, shoving it into his pocket so it stays clean. Next he pulls your pants and boxers, letting them pool at your feet. You drop your hands to the waistband of his pants and try to get them undone when he flips you over, bending you over the counter. You blush dark red, whining at how easy it is for him to manhandle you. You hear the familiar sound of Clark undoing his belt, you look in the mirror to see Clark staring at you. He moves to the side so you can see him smoothly pull his belt from his pants in one swift movement. You put your hands behind your back thinking he wants to tie your hands together with the belt but he just smirks at you. He puts his belt around your neck, pulling it so it resembles a collar and leash. You whine as you look at him through the mirror, his smirk only grows as he gets behind you. He pulls his pants and boxers down to below his knees, pulling on the belt harshly to pull your head back. 

You whine, hands flying to the edge of the sink to stabilize yourself. Clark chuckles as he rubs his cock along your sex. A high pitched whimper leaves your throat as he teases you. He pushes into you oh so slowly, smirking at you in the mirror. 

“Please Clark.”

“What do you need, angel?” You moan at the pet name, one of your hands flying to your face to guard your flushing cheeks. 

“Just hurry the fuck up.” Clark tugs on the belt hard, you whimper as it tightens around your throat.

“Language pup. Or is that another reminder I need to fuck into you.” You quickly shake your head, whispering out a soft apology. Clark kisses your shoulder, “Good boy.” 

He puts his other hand on your hip, rubbing it gently before thrusting into you. Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open with a loud moan as he bottoms out in you in one go. You claw at the sink, whining Clark’s name. He doesn’t give you a moment to think before starting to thrust into you, fast and hard. You try your best not to look Clark in the eye but every time that you look away he tugs on the belt. 

“There we go. Keep those pretty little eyes on me.” You can’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. You clench around his cock as you study him in the mirror, you think he looks fucking godly. His hair is half-up half-down, his eyes are darkened with lust, his lip is nestled between his teeth, and his arms. Fuck his arms. He has the belt wrapped around his hand once, pulling it taut, his biceps are flexed. 

“F-fucking shit.” You are pulled out of your staring session as he hits your g-spot. He smirks at you, repositioning his hips so he can hit that spot with every thrust. “Fuck yes, Clark.”

Neither of you care if you are loud, forgetting that you didn’t lock the door. You moan loudly as Clark smacks your ass hard. He smiles widely as he sees his red handprint on your otherwise flawless skin. He gently rubs your ass to soothe it, you whine softly at the gesture. You clench around his cock again, your moans getting higher in pitch, and much louder. A tell tale sign that you are close to coming but Clark doesn’t stop. In fact he wraps the belt around his hand one more time, putting his hand on the back of your neck and forcing you head onto the counter. He pounds into you with an inhumane amount of strength and speed. 

You are so caught up in how Clark is making you feel that you don’t notice Gabe slipping into the bathroom. Clark meets Gabe’s eyes through the mirror, smirking at the younger man. Clark leans down over you, pressing you further into the counter, growling loud enough for Gabe to hear.

“Look at that, soon enough everyone’s gonna know that you’re nothing more than my bitch.” You whine at his words, not understanding what he means cause you still haven’t noticed Gabe. So Clark lets go of the belt and grabs your hair, forcing you head to see Gabe. Your cheeks flush bright red and you try to turn away from his gaze but Clark smirks, pinning your head in place. “Unless you think Kidd can keep a secret.” 

“P-Please.” Is the only thing that you manage to get out. Both men think you are talking to Gabe so they nod at you to continue. You clench hard around Clark’s cock, whimpering loudly. “C-Clark, ple-please.” Clark smirks down at you as he realizes what you are asking for. He tightens his hand on the back of your neck, chuckling darkly.

“Here you are moments away from having your reputation destroyed and the only thing you can think about is coming?” Gabe chuckles with Clark. Clark leans down, a snarl painted on his face. “Pathetic.” He spits out.

You whine out, unable to control yourself. You tremble under Clark, clenching continuously around his cock as you come hard. Gabe can’t stop the small moan that slips from his lips as he watches you fall apart completely under the person that he thought you have been domming for 4 months. Clark doesn’t thrusting into you as he cackles at you,

“Stupid fucking mutt.” You moan loudly, nearly coming again just from that. Gabe can’t help but chuckle, all of this time he thought that you were fucking Clark, that you were overpowering him, dominating him. But this whole time you’ve been nothing but a bitch for Clark. You try to lift your head, the cold marble of the counter becoming uncomfortable. But Clark pushes your head down hard, growling.

“Stay fucking put, bitch.” You whimper and nod as best as you can. Even through the mirror you can tell that Gabe is rock hard in his jeans. Your eyes glaze over from the pleasure as you think about Gabe fucking you. Clark can tell that you are fucked out and in your own little world but he isn’t stopping until he cums in you. Your lips spread into a smile as you think about Clark and Gabe double teaming you. Before you can stop yourself, you moan out a soft,

“D-daddy!” Clark bites down on your shoulder hard to stop from moaning loudly as he cums deep inside of you. Gabe isn’t as lucky, he lets out an audible growl and steps towards you and Clark. You giggle as you relax under Clark, your body warm from the inside out. Clark notices Gabe moving closer and he snaps, growling at the younger man to back off. Gabe puts his hands up and stops moving. 

You gently wiggle your hips, Clark gets the message and pulls out of you. He doesn’t bother cleaning up himself before pulling his pants back up. He gently flips you around, taking the belt off from around your neck. You giggle as he kisses all of the marks that he left on your neck, his beard gently scratching you in a way that makes you feel loved. He grabs some toilet paper to clean you up, you thank him softly as he spreads your legs and cleans your sex. Clark throws the toilet paper out before coming back to you and helping you pull up your pants. Then he pulls out your shirt and helps you get that on as well. Once both of you look presentable you turn to Gabe, a sheepish look on your face.

“‘M really sorry that you saw that Gabe.” You take a step toward him and he blushes bright red, taking a small step back, hands guarding his erection. Clark comes to your side, putting his arm around your shoulder,

“Don’t think you have to apologize, darlin. Gabriel clearly enjoyed the show.” He smirks at the younger man before kissing your neck. “Now why don’t we give him a minute to sort himself out?” 

Gabe whimpers so softly that you think you imagined it. Clark leads you to the door, clapping Gabe on the shoulder before he rushes into a stall. You wait outside the bathroom, telling Clark that he can go back to the table if he wants. Clark kisses your cheeks and promises you to have a new cocktail waiting at the table. You surprisingly don’t have to wait too long for Gabe, he comes out of the bathroom, adjusting his pants. He doesn’t notice you until you are pinning him against the hallway wall. It takes him a minute to register what is happening and who is in front of him but when he does, he smirks down at you. Before you can think he has you flipped around so you are pinned against the wall, looking up at him.

“There we go, think this is much more suitable for you.” You whimper softly. Shaking your head gently to clear your not so pure thoughts. 

“G-Gabe.” You squeak out, he nods at you to continue. “Please don’t tell the others. I can’t let them know.” He leans down and for a minute you think he is going to kiss you but at the last minute he pulls away chuckling,

“Don’t worry sweetheart, your secret is safe with me.” He smirks as he turns and makes his way back to the main area of the bar, leaving you in shock next to the bathroom.

[sisaloofafump]

No thoughts just a messed up Batman & Superman calling eachother Brucie and Clarky. Oh and Diana's murder face:

From Justice League 3000 (2014)

[puckpocketed]

https://x.com/ontarioreign/status/1797029799057093112?s=46&t=s8ZkOTw4XsZvItzPSb7qSg

oh my god look hes ADORABLE clarkie we LOVE YOU!!!!

ough... he is a little guy...BUT. and i say this with AFFECTION . i fear thats the beigest guy on earth. peak head empty exit interview ft. the cream hoodie the alo yoga cap the california tan the sandy hair...... clarkie please answer for us WHY are uou so beige........!

tee bee ayche he owes me $5 for appearing in front of me like this during pride month!

[sometimesrosy]

Ep 1 Pilot Live blog

I'm going in guys.

FiFirst sight of baby Clarke drawing and dreasming of Earth. :( And the reveal that the whole earth is dead, and only The Ark is surviving.... or so they think. Another 100 years before it's survivable.

Baby Clarke. Oh she's not even eighteen. Every crime punishable by death and our little feral Clarkie overpowers the big tough guards. OH look it's Abby. Giving the Delinguents the chance to live! ON THE GROUND!

Damn they shot her with a tranq dart.

And the drop ship is off.... zoomies. Clark wakes up in a tin can with OH WELLS!!!! poor baby Wells. OH Monty and

And the chancellor telling them they ARE the chance for everyone because THEY are expendable. I always hated that. How can you call people expendable. Such a bad world view.

Oh the lady we never saw again after the pilot. I liked her. Abby's friend. What was her name?

ooomg, Clarke is giving Well's dad a dirty look. AND floating hair for brains. Finn. Right how did I forget his name? Octavia is enjoying her freedom with the other kids. But acceleration and Finn and his followers break the fucking ship.

Why is my brain so bad I've forgotten everyone's names.

Wells trying to apologize and Clarke NOT forgiving him. Little Wanheda.

Clarke goes to check on the fallen kids and starts taking control right away

OMG BELLAMY, just back it up guy, and Clarke gets in his face right away.

But here comes Octavia "the girl that hid under the floor." "OMG Look how big you are." Much tears.

Oh pissy octavia because he's in guard uniform. "No one has a brother!" All these reveals are pretty slick, actually. I know the who thing is cheesy but they are giving us so much information.

WOW. They open the door and SUDDENLY EVERYONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL IN THE GOLDEN SUN AND WIND MACHINES.

Don't say Octavia Don't say it.

WERE BACK BITCHES!!!!

she said it.

and enter the delinquents. Oooh. Radioactive. Not me dancing with with delinquents. Yes. Yes I am chair dancing.

"Why so serious princess?" Ugh. Gag. Wow I really hate finn. Still. More so.

Poor baby Clarke is so serious. THey dropped us on the wrong damn moutnain. Was that seriously all before the first commercial break? WOW packed.

Kane as a villain. Remember that? He is awful. Jackson and SInclair!!

Wells wants to be so helpful.

OMG John Murphy as an actual villain. And Bellamy too. Octavia the rebel. It's so weird seeing them so naive. But actually Octavia's character is still the same. Wells and Murphy fighting until hair brains jumps down and acts "the hero." Why is he so icky?

"Hey spacewalker. Rescue me next." EW. Octavia you picked the wrong guy.

Oh remeber that Bob came up with that deep voice because he stayed out too late the night before or something and had a husky voice so he then had to fake a deep voice for the next seven years of his life. lol.

God I cannot express how every time Finn opens his mouth I hate him more.

Our first adventure with Clarke and Finn and Octavia and Jasper and Monty.

Oh that's right. Jaha was shot. I totally forgot. After Clarke gets his pardon it becomes a non issue. And Jasper and Monty got put in jail for weed. lol. And poor baby O for "being born."

Haha. The shocking two faced deer that scares them all. All these wonders of the earth are very nostalgic. OH that's right, Abby gets put into jail for using too many supplies to save him.

And they discovered the shooter of Jaha. "It's no one. Just a janitor." Oh this guy is trying to get Kane to kill people. OH YEAH KANE you're talking to the traitor. It's that guy.

Murphy's back story. Begging for mercy in the float chamber when your father floated him.

Bellamy is so young. A trouble maker. Really just trying to keep the Ark from joining them because he killed Jaha. And taking over as ruler. Or dad of the group.

Oh new reveal. Clarke tells them why they sent the 100 down. The Ark is Dying. Three months left of life support. Maybe four after sending them down.

Why does she think Wells turned in her dad, anyway? Just because she couldn't imagine her mom doing it?

Oh me rolling my eyes when Finn says "we have to warn them" when really he's just saying that for Raven, not for some moral reason.

Octavia stripping and jumping into the water. Where did her jumpsuit go and how did she get the pants.

And Jasper spots the CREATURE coming to get Octavia. You know they could have used the creature in the water as one of the dangers in the following eps but they just dropped that. The only monster we really had in early season was Pauna. I mean non human monsters. We should have had more monsters.

I'm really just not paying attention to Jasper saving Octavia. It doesn't really feed into the rest of the story.That was a big monster. We should have seen more of it.

The delinquents having their first bonfire and taking off the wrists. Oh that was Fox. Wells is a goody goody. It's a little annoying. I mean he's right but he's not going about this in the right way. There you go. Our doctors, our farmers, our engineers. Bellamy is like okay well that's a good point. Until he Wells says "how could you not want our people to come down." And then he's like "what do you mean WE kemosabe. those aren't my people. Those are the people who floated my mom and put my sister in jail."

Now they're shouting WHATEVER THE HELL WE WANT they are fucking morons. Honestly.

But they are loving the rain. Hey that's the first rain they've ever experienced. Aww.

And abby gets arrested for saving Jaha. I mean Kane is right. No special treatment. But the whole concept is not good. Abby is used to special treatment though.

Penal code ONE. Their first law. Wow. All crimes are capital crimes.

"I choose to make sure that the human race stays alive"

"I choose to make sure we deserve to stay alive." Abby.-- This was like the most important statement made in the entire show, right here. First episode. And it was a driving force until season seven where they were just like. Nah. Nazi cults are the best idea. Technology. Purple aliens.

Oh they put Abby in Clarke's cell with her drawings.

Clarke wakes up on the earth (the dream) with the luminescent trees. Again a thing they could have used more often. maybe it was too expensive.

Oh Finn. You're ruining the mood. Go away. Yes I mock Finn's every line after he says it. Finn finds tracks he says are monkeys. Which we never see.

Kane thinks he's the only one who's willing to do what it takes which is going to be echoed by Bellamy later. They're both wrong. What was that character's name? Played by Kelly Hu I think.

Bellamy dragging Wells out in the middle of the night with his gun. He's telling Wells to stand up to his dad and take off the wristband. Murphy's reprobates take off his wristband. I totally thought they were gonna kill him but the scene ends with the clink and release.

Now we're executing Abby until... Jaha comes to the rescue.

Swinging across the river..."see ya on the other side." Jasper is trying to impress O. Finn STOP TALKING. you're a terrible character.

Good music though. "IT's okay to be afraid, Jasper. The trick is not fighting it." Ok Finn that line is actually pretty good.

Jasper finds the sign for Mount Weather and after much cheering and laughing--BOOM in the chest with spear. Not sure how he survived that actually.

The magic of hollywood.

"We're not alone." and BOOM WERE OUT.

well. that was fun. I can't see it for what it was, though. I can only see it for how it relates to the rest of the story that I know came later even if somethings don't relate and some things I didn't notice or forgot.

The acting's a bit wooden and stiff and the delinquents are morons. The hair gel is too strong-- the main reason we're happy for the first delinquent rain storm.

I remember I didn't love the show after the first episode, but I liked it enough to keep watching. It wasn't until ep three or four that I really started loving it.

ALL RIGHT MY FRIENDS. Let us now open The 100 Rewatch 2023 season!

Add your opinions and insights. Link me when you do a liveblog. Comment and send asks.

I don't know if we have a schedule anywhere or a discord. But as of now, we're looking on focusing on each of the first six seasons every two months. SO february and march is season 1.

[eldritchdemonfox]

“So, this is your ‘slice of the multiverse’. I can’t say I’ve ever been out of my own universe…” -Clarky

Oh! You made it! Lemme just...*puts down gun* I was shooting a coworker for science but they’re fine.

Welcome! Oh! Do you wanna meet my pets before I go get the flamethrowers?

[hwsforeignrelations]

I love the way you draw Alfred and I'm always looking forward to your usuk fics

(Also shout out to your supes art, love seeing the boy scout on the dash)

oh gosh thank you! and especially for complimenting our sweet clarky-man!

As for fanfiction, sir you ARE IN LUCK i havent written in literal months but I'm determined to develop my largest project undertaking yet! (HINT: there will be usukus wheeeeeeee)

[lothirielswandc]

I am so so sorry the latest chapter update is taking a minute, cute people!! My family found out it was spring break and pounced. I have survived the encounter, and we have at least a chapter and a half written (first draft). You guys deserve premium quality and we'll have two chapters out soon, final draft.

Lots of love from our cold, black hearts~

Here's a tiny excerpt to keep everybody going:

Constantine followed shortly behind, “Don't mind this one! She’s just stopping by…”

Clark’s wave back was shy and hesitant. His nose was scrunched up. Could he smell the alcohol? Everyone was looking at her: Wonder Woman, Cyborg, the Flash, Batman…

Her stomach churned when her eyes fell upon Bruce Wayne. Oh no.

Saliva filled her mouth. Raven turned to the nearest potted plant. Against her will, vomit fell from her mouth.

“Woah—”

“Is she okay?”

“She took one look at your face and hurled, ha ha…”

“Barry, this is a formal meeting. Don't act like a child.” 

“It's fine! It's fine!” Raven felt hands on her hair. John was holding her hair back. 

When Raven was done, she weakly stepped away from the potted plant and teetered on her feet. Two pairs of hands reached out to steady her. 

“John, did you get her drunk?” She heard Clark whisper harshly. 

“No! The Gotham clown just dropped her off here!”

“How could you let her be around Harley? She’s an empath, that has to be toxic for her! What kind of parenting is that?”

“I’m not her father, Clarky. Stop causing a scene and help me get her up the stairs…”

[sassymajesty]

Yes! Aden and his Clarkie from eib!! Sorry since I’m currently reading that story I assume you know what I’m taking about. It’s only like a 15-20min short film but let me tell you a year or two might’ve been rolling down my cheeks. It reminds me of their special bond and how without knowing it Aden teaches Clarke the essence of life. Oh to be a kid and see the world in such matter. Please if you watch it tell us how you felt, your thoughts and views of it and the coincidence with eib (loveunina)

listen. i did watch let's be tigers and i may have cried a tiny little bit with it too. it's hopeful but also so goddamn sad i need a cuddle 🥺

him asking her if she's sad because her mommy died is what got me the most. and with everyone else, she dismissed it and said she's fine, but then when teeny baby asks her in his little voice when they're sharing his tiny bed, she just... admits it and lets herself feel. and he's so full of life when he goes back to the story it's hard not to see that life around her as well, despite her loss. i'm emailing you my therapist bill as i type this jesus christ

but her pink hair and the way he played with it so softly reminded me of the early days of aden and clarke, when lexa barely let her near him 🥹 and oh god, that same scene, asking if she's sad... that's coming up in the next chapter for a very similar reason and now i want to give up everything i had planned and just write them sharing that special bond they have

[freelancer-team-2]

Hello! This is Serb’sys! There are many pirates in the void and they have killed many of my vessels or um, bodies or whatever. Would it be possible to ask for your help? Clarky said you were nice.

Vancouver: oh hi there bud! Yeah I thought there was something off about those pirates so I kept their grid coordinates. Sending a B-33 barrage now

*copious nuclear explosions*

that should do

[hitchell-mope]

Oh Clarky.