#clark down on one knee: will you... murder with me?

[monstriiss]

He's standing there with what seems to be a protein shake of sorts (coffee-flavored, of course). He takes a sip of it with the same sort of energy someone might take a tired drag from a cigarette. ❝-—Drath, darling, I am getting real fucking sick of people lately. I think you were onto something with how you typically handle them...❞

(here, have a girliepop complain sesh kdjfgbkdg)

HOW LONG THE monster has waited to hear these words, she is on her feet immediately with her claws flexing at the ready, practically giddy with excitement. After so much petty corporate jargon, FINALLY @kxllerblond entertains the idea of violence, and this language she speaks fluently. She feels like a dog straining against its lead, gnashing its teeth ready to maul.

" I thought you would never say those words, " Drathenia purrs with a smile filled with an arsenal of vicious jaws so eager to be put to use. " Tell me who they are, my dear, and we will make sure they will NEVER bother you again. Just name them and they are gone. "

[storiesofmyhead]

Ghost - Wally Clark

Anastasia Nears had loved Wally Clark since she was a kid.

Wally Clark had noticed Anastasia Nears the second she walked into Split Rivers High.

But Anastasia was born in 1999.

And Wally Clark was born in 1964.

Warnings: Death, Murder

Pt.1

Comment down below to be reminded when a new part comes out! I am also posting on wattpad @CloveMadden, which I normally updated quicker than here.

Prologue

Dreamily sighing, Anastasia falls backwards onto her bed, an old Split Rivers High yearbook in her arms pushed against her chest. 

"Annie, why do you always have that yearbook?" Young Maddie Nears whines, standing in the door frame of her older sister's room. "You never let me look at it either." Her lips jutted out in a pout; arms crossed.

The bedroom of the older Near's sister reflected a 1980's high school vibe. A bedroom that every 1980's - 90's teenager would have. Posters of vogue and teen heart throb actors hanging all over the walls, including the jersey of the one and only Wally Clark with the number 57 on it, his newspaper clippings all around it. To other's it might've been seen as a shrine and a little bit creepy, but to her it was normal. I mean, really, it was basically the same thing as having teen heart throb actors all over your wall like every other teen girl. She had been given the honor of wearing his jersey at every one of the football games since her sophomore year and has ever since been honoring his name. Being involved with the high school cheer team from a young age helped her achieve the title of cheer captain in her sophomore year. Since then, she has been helping the student council schedule football and cheer events such as pep rallies, and booster events for the school's athletics.

"Because Maddie." Anastasia drawls out. "It an old yearbook and I don't want you to damage it." The girl now rises to sit up in her bed, the yearbook laying on her lap.

Maddie walking into the bedroom, climbs up onto her older sister's bed and sits crisscross facing her. "Can you at least tell me about the boy inside."

Sighing, Anastasia smiles softly, her cheeks reddening. "What boy?" 

"The boy!" Maddie accuses. "He's on your wall! Wally Clark!" She points at the jersey that hangs in pristine condition on the wall.

Annie's smile widens, "I guess so, but listen close. Ok? I'm not going to tell you again."

Nodding quickly, Maddie's eyes are immediately glued to the yearbook as she waits for Annie to open it.

Sporting a blue and white football jersey, the number 57 plated in white on the back of the old jersey and painted in white thin lines of paint on her left cheek. She wore a short blue and white cheer skirt that barely poked out from beneath the large jersey, including a pair of white shoes to fully finish off the look. Her blonde wavy hair tied up into a high ponytail complete with a blue bow.

Walking into the locker-room before the game wanting to fix up before the game started. Looking in the mirror she taps a bit extra blush on her cheeks and fixes up the lines of the 57 on her cheek before looking down to place everything back into her makeup bag. 

Before she knew it, hands grabbed the back of her jersey before wrapping around her neck. Gasping for air, her nails clawed at the hands.

"No-" She chokes. "Please. I-" She gasps. "Don't want to die." Tears stream down her cheeks as she tries everything to get his hands off of her neck. 

She could feel the bruises start to form on her neck as she puts her whole body into swing her leg up and back to kick him in the knee. The second she felt his hand leave her neck, her legs took off towards the door, trying to scream all that comes out is a scratchy screech, her vocal cords had been ruined.

"No-" Her voice scratches, hands grabbing her hair as she's tugged backward. Her butt hits the floor of the locker room hard as she's grabbing at the hands in her hair, the pain is unbearable on her scalp but the thought of what was about to come for her was worse. 

Sobbing uncontrollably, the tears don't stop as her vision becomes blurry. Shaking her head and kicking her legs trying anything to get him off but his grip won't let up. His hand moves forward quickly, and before she knows it a searing pain in the back of head makes her ears ring and everything goes dark.

[loverforwbb]

Scary movie

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x scared reader

Warnings: Mentions of crying, slight mention of murder, fluff, relationship exposing

Summary: While in Louisville for a pervious game, the Iowa wbb team decides to watch a scary movie for the upcoming holiday. You are deathly afraid of scary movies which the team doesn’t know, the only person that does, your secret girlfriend and supposed best friend, Caitlin Clark.

AN: This came to me in a really good dream so I wanted to share it with you all :) This also my first time writhing anything like this so please tell me any tips you have! Happy reading!

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

As the team enters the house in Louisville, rented by coach blunder for Halloween weekend, discussion of room pairing immediately became a raging topic, you and your “best friend” Caitlin were automatically paired together as you guys are never seen apart.

- -

You and Caitlin became really close during freshman year summer training. You two started hanging out everyday without fail, but soon realized you both felt something deeper than friendship for each other ultimately leading up to you both confessing your feelings to each other during your sophomore year.

—

As you two enter your shared room Kate yells out to the group that they are about to put on a scary movie for you all to watch. Caitlin is quick to ask what you want to do instead as she knows you’re terrified of them.

“I’ll watch it” you said surprising Caitlin as you have never wanted to watch one before.

“Are you sure baby, won’t you be scared?”

“I’ll be okay, I don’t want to be left out”

Caitlin gave you a sympathetic look

“All you’ll be missing out on is being scared. Are you really sure you want to watch it?”

“Yes” you said hesitantly “I want to get over this stupid fear”

“Okay baby but if you get scarred just let me know” you nod and Caitlin heads towards the living room to get a good spot. You hang back a sec to calm down your nerves.

- -

You don’t know why but ever since you were little you have always been afraid of anything that had to do with horror, including scary movies. They all brought you this feeling of uneasiness, making you feel as though someone is watching you through you windows.

—

Before leaving the room you made sure everything was in place for protection in case the move was super scary and you feel like someone is going to beak through your window and attack you.

After doing so you finally head out of the room.

-

You came into the dark living room sitting next to Caitlin, your knee touching her leg as she wrapped her arm around you.

“Okay we can finally start the movie” said Jada while turning on the led lights to set the mood.

The movie started off okay, no jump scares or murders so far, but towards the middle you started getting scared as the killer had finally showed up. Felling you tense up, Caitlin moved her hand on top of your leg for you to hold, which did not go unnoticed by the others as they were taking mental notes of your interactions. You started fidgeting with Caitlin’s rings as the killer got closer and closer to the victim, you soon felt tears begin to brim your eyes but tried to push them back down. Caitlin started to notice something was wrong but couldn’t pinpoint it as she was unable to see your face, though a few second later the tears that you tried so hard to keep in started to slip out. Soon enough you couldn’t control your quiet sobs as the killer finally got the victim, no one could hear your cries but they were quickly noticed by your girlfriend. She swiftly motioned for you to get off the couch, holding your shoulders and leading you to the bathroom while tears continued to fall down your cheeks. Once in the room Caitlin placed you on the bathroom counter to wipe off your tear covered face.

“We don’t have to continue watching baby I know it’s scary, we could head to bed if you want.”

“No, I want to stay for the end” you said while Caitlin pushed your hair from out of your face then caressed your cheek.

“But baby you know I hate seeing you cry it makes me want to cry with you” your girlfriend said with a pout

“I’m okay caity I promise, I won’t start crying again”

“Do you want to tell me what’s making you cry sweet girl?” You looked down for a moment trying to reconcile why you were crying but your mind was blank

“I don’t know why, it’s just…scary”

“I know baby but it’s not real, there’s nothing that could harm you” she says while bringing you into a hug and kissing your temple.

“Okay, but once we go back out there you’re sitting on my lap, I want to be able to squeeze you when you get scared”

“But what about the others? They are going to start to suspect something’s going on” you said while Caitlin giggled

“I’m sure they already know by the way I pulled you into the bathroom honey. And if they don’t they are blind” you chuckled and agreed to Caitlin’s previous proposition hopping off of the counter to check your puffy face in the mirror.

—

While you and Caitlin are in the bathroom the girls in the living room begin to talk.

As soon as you guys closed the bathroom door Jada paused the movie looking around to room with a shocked expression, she had had speculations of you two being together and was waiting for a moment of confirmation that had just occurred in front of her eyes.

“No way” Jada says still shocked that just happened

Syd starts to laugh in disbelief while Kate questions the timeline of you and Caitlin’s relationship

“How long has that been going on?!”

The whole room is in commotion about you guys until Jada hears the door nob to the bathroom start to rustle and turns back on the movie to act like they have been watching it the whole time you guys were gone.

—

As you two re-enter the room Caitlin leads you back to the couch your hand in hers. Once you reach it she sits down and opens her legs to make space your you to sit. Gabbie and Jada exchange quick glances to each other at this change of position, their minds starting to race again with thoughts of you two being in a relationship.

As the movie goes on you start to notice that you feel 2x less scared now then you did before you were in Caitlin’s embrace, the comfort of her warm fingertips rubbing up and down your arm and you fidgeting with her cold silver rings were helping you fight your fear. You melted into her, reminiscing on how when your around Caitlin you immediately feel better.

Before you knew it the movie was over ending with there being a group of survivors who came together and killed the killer, this ending put you slightly on ease as your brain still raced with the thoughts of the movies earlier scenes.

Everybody started to get up to go to bed as it was almost midnight. Before getting up Caitlin started to whisper in your ear

“You ready to go the bed? We can watch my little pony to make you feel better, I know that helps sometimes when your scared.”

You nodded your head both of you heading to your room for the night.

You both slipped on your pajamas and tangled up under the covers, watching the children’s show off of Caitlin’s computer. You quickly dosed off feeling safe in Caitlin’s arms as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

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

AN: whooh! kind of had trouble staring this off, I really do hope you guys enjoyed this, it was super fun to write!

Please let me know if there are any mistakes that need to be fixed!

(I’m sorry I couldn’t make this longer I really wanted too but I didn’t know what else to add)

[asteraddicted]

Small interaction idea I got for the Supersons (pre-Jon age up; I HATE THAT PART) soooo sorry if this is bad its my first official drabble post (did i use that term correctly???)

Based on this (one part blacked out bc idk how tumblr would take it)

[—-—-—-—-—-—-—-🫧🪼-—-—-—-—-—-—-—]

"Hey, Damian?" Jon spoke up, he and Damian lounging in Damian's room because— no offense to Clark, but Wayne Manor was cooler for sleepovers.

"Yes, Kent?" Damian huffed, focused on sharpening one of his many daggers. Despite the dynamic, the two were undeniable best friends. It was surprising at first, with Damian's blunt, down-to-earth personality with snap backs and insults that would make a grown man cry. Damian Wayne, best friends with a sunny, optimistic, 'blinding everyone with his smile' Jon Kent. But of course, the two didn't start out that way.

"Remember when you practically- no, you DID kidnap me after I accidentally.. killed a cat and a hawk?" Jon mumbled the last part, clearly still ashamed of it. He hadn't told Damian the whole story yet, despite how long it had been. Damian's eyebrows furrowed, and he got a little closer. He remembered those times, back before they were friends.

"Yes, I remember," he replied, his voice still firm as he inquired. "Why are you bringing that up again, Kent?" Damian — despite his almost inhuman abilities, talents, and feats — was still human, and still had the ability to forget things.

"..Nothing! It's just.. the cat. Goldie was her name. It's her deathday today." Jon frowned, having always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Jon couldn't help but mistake the sting building up in his eyes as the burning feeling of letting his heat vision go off and MURDER cremate the two innocent creatures on accident. It was only for a second, but Damian could see how Jon panicked in that little moment.

"And? Your point?" He said, his tone a surprisingly a tad bit softer than usual. He didn't really know what Jon was talking about. Really, he did remember kidnapping Jon because he didn't trust him. But to Damian? That was like another regular Tuesday for him.

"..I didn't mean to kill Goldie, or the hawk. I know you know that. But Goldie had escaped her house, and I was chasing her to get her back." Jon began to explain, and he wasn't as cheerful as he usually was. Not as he finally told Damian the full story. Jon couldn't help it. It had been at the very least a few years ago, but the horror Jon had felt that day was something Jon himself never forgot.

"..their bodies were charred and burning. Couldn't tell hawk from cat.. only Goldie's collar remained! I.." Jon had to go quiet to compose himself. His hands were actually shaking. Damian listened to the story. He knew something was wrong with Jon. He was not his usual cheerful, confident self.

Damian looked at Jon, his expression hard to read. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to comfort him. Damian was never good at comfort. He just sat back in silence for a while, processing what Jon had told him. Being from the League of Assassins, death was nothing new to him. Hell, he's killed animals on purpose for mission and training before he was taken to Wayne Manor. Whales and tigers and lions and eagles, on and on. It was a little hard to see from Jon's perspective, but Damian tried.

"..Y'know.. I don't think you remember what you said to me when I woke up after you kidnapped me. Hehe.." Jon let out a chuckle, smiling with his teeth to try and lighten his sadness with humor. "You told me.. 'You are a threat to every living thing on and off this planet.' And Damian, I know this is stupid, but.." Jon curled his knees to his chest, eyes on the blank screen as a movie they were watching played it's end credits.

"..I believed you. In a way.. I still do. I'm scared of myself, Dami." Jon admitted quietly before grinning and wiping his tears.

"But I guess that's pretty dumb, right?" Jon grinned widely. He was half-Kryptonian and his dad was Superman! He shouldn't cry, and he didn't have any reason to! He was growing up, and he should be more in control of his emotions.

Yet Jon had let his mind wander multiple times, whenever he passed by where it happened. It was ironic, but Jon couldn't help but be scared of himself. Yes, himself. He had the powers of Superman — the Man of Steel himself. And he was also a young boy who could be easily tricked and manipulated. Jon was strong and carefree, but he wasn't stupid. At least not all the time. Jon has witnessed some extremely traumatic events in his life. The possibility that he had the power to massacre entire cities — maybe states, countries, or eventually the world? That was something that made Jon want to lock himself up in a kryptonite cage and hide away.

Jon was afraid of his powers and the destruction they could bring. He was immune to fire, but still couldn't stop himself from imagining the burning, mangled, charred bodies of a hawk and a cat each time there was a fire that was large enough.

Damian clenched his jaw. He remembered that day. He remembered telling Jon that he was a threat. Listening to Jon talk about his fear of himself and his own powers made something inside of Damian ache. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

"It's not dumb," he said, his voice softer than usual. Damian didn't know why he was being so soft (he knew exactly why, but he didn't want to admit it. Not yet.). "And you're not a threat, Kent. You're not. You never were. You're the last person who's a threat to anything."

"That's EXACTLY why I'm a threat, Dames! I'm part Kryptonian!.. I'm invincible to most on Earth." Jon exclaimed, sighing. "I can still go rogue! Dad has gone rogue before. I don't.." Jon trailed off.

"Kent. If you think for a second I'd let you go rogue, just know my Father has plenty of Kryptonite stocked away that I would not hesitate to use." Damian narrowed his eyes, but not in an angry way. It was affectionate, though it would be hard to tell from an outsider's perspective. Jon, oddly enough, felt reassured. Reassured that if something goes wrong, that Damian would be there to stop him. He'd always be there to stop him.

"You promise, Dames?" Jon couldn't help but whisper.

"Yes, I promise. Now come on. Didn't you want to show me this movie called 'Legally Blonde' or something?" Damian rolled his eyes, but they still held that tinge of care. That hint of affection that was only reserved for Jon, and wasn't the type that Damian held for his family. No, Damian had a part of his heart specifically reserved for Jon Kent.

"Okay, good. Now come on, let's watch a pretty girl kick legal butt!" Jon grinned, ultimately feeling much better. He was so lucky to have Damian.

[—-—-—-—-—-—-—-🫧🪼-—-—-—-—-—-—-—]

AN: First post, not beta read and written in the dead of night lol. I do not write much. Romantic or platonic? Idk you choose :P

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assistant 11

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger. These warnings are not exhaustive.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: I expect we're near the endgame now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

🖊🖊🖊

Clark lands with an impact that makes your skull rattle. Your ears ring as the world around you smears. He lets you go and you stumble away. He keeps you off balance as he grabs you again, spinning you as you whimper helplessly.

He rips your hoodie down your arms, tugging it free only to use the sleeve to restrain your wrists. He keeps you facing away from him, forcing you to your knees as he shoves his knee into your back. He puts you on your stomach and bends your legs up, securing your feet with the other sleeve so you’re facedown in the dirt.

You heave as your tears spring out unchecked. He parts from you, his soles mulching the dirt as your sobs echo. You squirm until you fall onto your side, bound helpless as you let your horror mount to frantic screams.

“Help! Someone!”

He hushes you and bends to grip your jaw. You quiet, choking on your voice as you look past him. Canopies of leaves ripple above him, you smell water nearby, a freshness that lends a coolness to the air. He snarls and drags you across the ground, placing you against the brush along the jutting rock wall.

“Scream all you want. No one out here.”

“Please, Clark, please,” you plead through pathetic babbles, “I didn’t–why– why did you– Richard—”

“You promised you loved me. That you would never hurt me–”

“I was scared–”

“You lied to me,” he growls as he paces back and forth, “you betrayed me!”

“No, no, I was just afraid. I was afraid you’d hurt me, Clark, honey, I swear–”

“Hurt you?”

“You’re married,” you whimper, “I knew we could never be together–”

“I know.” He grits out as he stops to face you, his eyes glowing eerie crimson, “you know. Lois is dead. This was our chance and you ran–”

“Dead? Clark–”

“Stop lying,” he barks, “I can hear your fucking heart amp up every time you do. So stop.”

You sniffle and shudder in the dirt. Prickly vines poke at you as you give in to the futility. You’re not getting away this time. Your lashes are webbed with tears, adding a soft glare to your vision. You look up at Clark and pout.

“I can be better… please,” you beg. “What are you going to do to me?”

He raises his chin and stares up at the sun. You murmur and curl your fingers into your palm. You wait in the deafening silence of the moment. The chitter of birds and scramble of critters is dulled by your dread.

“Make you better,” he says as he spins to face the sprawl of trees.

He clutches his fists tight and a sudden rush of air blows over you as he zips up into the sky. It feels as if the earth lurches beneath the force of his departure. You fall back against the rock wall, leaning your elbow on it as you gape up after him.

“SOMEONE!” You screech, even as you know he’s right, that no one will hear, “SOMEONE PLEASEEEEEEEE!”

🖊

Your lungs burn and your throat turns raw. You have nothing left. Your fruitless screams die as you lay in the dirt, wriggling only a few inches this way or that. Twigs and pebbles jab through your clothing and the dewy patches of grass stain the fabric. 

This is it. This is the end. The sheen of disbelief slowly fades. That denial that it couldn’t be real. You are just an intern and he is just a journalist. A lonely man looking for company where he shouldn’t. No, he is a murderer. You witnessed it. You’ve seen the rage in him, you felt it, the insatiability that cannot be denied.

More than that, he is inhuman. He is something else. He is lauded as a superhero yet lurks like a villain behind the mask of Clark Kent.

You quiver and let out a deep heave. Breathless, exhausted, defeated. You let your head rest on the ground as the warmth of the sun pools over you through a gap in the branches above.

Sweat beads over your forehead and dampens your cheeks. It gathers beneath your clothing and trickles along your neck and back. You languish there in the beating of the summer heat and wait. For what comes next. For the inevitable.

As resignation sets in, your fate doesn’t seem so scary. Death is a finality. It is an end. It means that you will be free, even if that freedom is nothingness. There is relief in knowing that those weeks of torture have come to a head. You’ve met the climax and now you’re in the falling action, plummeting towards the finale.

A gust sweeps over you and the earth shakes. You let out a yipe at the flash of colour and the clatter left behind. In a second, he is gone again, whooshing up into the expanse as the din of the forest resumes. You look over at the large ax leaning against the cliffside, a hand saw beside it, and few other tools you can’t place. What?

He returns, surprising you again. The clunk of a heavy chest hits the dirt. You flinch and try to turn your body. The effort leaves you hollow as you manage to roll against the jutting rock wall. 

Several more hurtling trips and Clark finally stands still, curls mussed from the excess but otherwise unshaken by his efforts. He grabs the ax as you stare at the wrapped packages of insulation, the bucket of plaster, and litany of materials. It can’t be–

He approaches a tree and swings the ax. He cuts through the trunk with a single strike. He lifts the gargantuan tree with a single arm and tosses it behind him. It bounces and rolls to a stop on the soft ground. He does it again, and again, and again. He clears at least a dozen trees without a glance or word in your direction.

You linger in stupefied silence. He approaches the pile of trees and pulls one out. He is little more than a blur as he works at breaking them down into neat planks. This has to be a nightmare. The distortion, the unreality of the moment can’t be true.

You gulp and lower your head. It makes you dizzy to watch him. You listen to the furor of his labour. The zip of the saw, the crack of the ax, and the rhythm of a hammer. When you peek over again, vision hazy with the beaming heat of the sun, there is a foundation built.

You shudder and blow out through your dry lips. You try to wet your mouth but your tongue is arid. You will against the ground, crushing your shoulder as you clench and unclench your fists.

You’re stunned by a sudden grip on your jaw that brings your head up. You nearly choke as Clark puts a bottle to your lips and pours water into your mouth. Your body gulps it down greedily as your thoughts remain disjointed and distorted.

He backs up and pulls the stump of a log over to sit across from you. He drains the last of the water and brings forward a paper bag. He doesn’t say a word as he reaches inside and takes out a granola bar. He wraps it and leans forward to offer it to you.

You stare at him. He presses it to your lips. You turn your face away.

“Eat,” he demands.

You sniff and push your head back against the side of the cliff, “why are you doing this?”

He sighs and retracts his arm. He breaks off a chunk of the bar. He doesn’t answer you.

“Clark, what are you doing?” You croak.

He gets off the log and comes closer, nearly straddling you as he drops onto his knees. He grabs your skull, turning your head straight, and forces the granola into your mouth. You murmur as he holds your jaw in place and your stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Eat.”

You don’t resist. You chew and swallow. He takes another piece and jams it through your lips; he does it again and again until the wrapper is empty. He backs up and perches again on the log.

You watch him as he looks over at his work so far. A whole wall built. It's not hard to guess at the goal, but you don’t understand why. Why doesn’t he just kill you? Like Lois. Like Richard.

“I’m building us a home,” he says as he drops his head into his hands and scratches along his hairlines, “just you and me.”

He sits up and combs his hair back. He stands and dusts off his palms. He stretches and peels off his shirt, revealing his broad chest and thickly muscled stomach. The hair along his torso speckles with his sweat.

“It must be done by nightfall,” he declares as he marches away.

You turn your attention back to the endless forest. You stare into the daunting sprawl and deflate. It isn’t a home he’s building, it’s a prison.

🖊

The house is complete. Clark carries you through the front door and puts you against the wall, just beneath the window. The interior is barren. No furniture, only a gaping fireplace and a small hoop anchored in the floor.

He unties you and stands over you, watching you as you sit up. Your shoulders and knees throb from being locked the whole day. He bends and pulls your left leg straight, he closes a metal cuff around your ankle and pushes a bolt into place. You kick your foot in fright as he lets it go and a chain clanks loudly as he lets it unfurl.

He attaches the other end to the loop in the floor. You whine and get to your knees.

“Clark, please, what are you doing?”

“I can’t trust you,” he sneers, “it’s for your own good…” he stands and looks above you, to the window, “you would only get lost out there.”

“No, please, you can trust me–”

He raises his hand and you quiet. You sit back on your heels and clasp your hands together. He shakes his head and waves you off, striding away without another word. He goes through the open door as you focus on the chain, touching the links in dread.

He returns and unzips a sleeping bag, spreading it over the floor. He leaves again, coming back with pillows and another blanket. He backs up, hands on his hips and looks over the makeshift set up.

“Tomorrow I will find a bed. Other things,” he turns and approaches the fireplace, resting his hand on the mantle above, “I will start a fire for the night. It’ll be cold soon.”

You want to scream. You want to wail. You want to call him a monster, tell him that he’s insane. But you know that won’t make this any better. You let go of the chain and raise yourself on your knees. You crawl on the blankets and make yourself small as you sit against the pillows.

“Thank you, Clark,” you squeak as you pull off your shoes and place them to the side.

He keeps his back to you, bowing his head as he sighs. Slowly, he shifts and glances over his shoulder. His eyes meet yours and he drags his hand off the mantle. He faces you as you carefully recline.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he says grimly, “but it has to be like this. Just for now.”

“I know,” you say as you wince and rub your shoulder.

He sniffs and reluctantly turns away. His steps are lighter as he goes back through the door, returning with an armful of split logs. He stacks them by the fireplace before he works at starting a fire. You listen to his efforts and close your eyes. Only to hide, not to sleep.

The scent of the fire fills the cabin and he pulls the door shut. He nears and his shadow looms over you. He tugs on the blanket as he climbs down next to you and swoops it over you as he wraps an arm over your middle. He draws you closer, his breath fanning across your hair.

“I know you’re scared but one day, you’ll see,” he rumbles as he bends his arm, fondling your chest. Your stomach knots as he presses his pelvis flush to you, “I saved you… like you saved me.” 

His hand trails down and you hold your breath. His fingertips touch the top of your jeans and he pauses. He brushes his arm back up and embraces you again.

“Not tonight,” he resigns glumly, “I don’t forgive you yet.”

[annecoulmanross]

A Song from Swept Away for (not quite) Every Character from The Terror (2018)

In my ongoing quest to drag every terror fan into my obsession with Swept Away, I give you: a character from The Terror (2018) for every song from Swept Away: A New Musical Tale, Broadway’s new shipwreck cannibalism musical. Listen along here! Characters & select lyrics below the cut.

1. Go To Sleep = James Fitzjames

I spit a tooth in the palm of my hand Lay back, lay back, go to sleep my man Wipe the blood from you face and your hands Forgive yourself if you think that you can

2. Hard Worker = John Morfin

I got way down on my knees Sayin’ “Lord, can ya help me, If ya please, please, please— Can ya’ save me from this workin’ man’s disease?”

3. Nothing Short of Thankful = Henry Peglar

Do you think they’re listening To a thing? (No!) I wonder what’s On their mind; we all should (Go!) Break down the walls being built around us

4. Swept Away = James Clark Ross

Life is ever changing but I can always Find a constant and comfort in your love With your heart my soul is bound And as we dance I surely know that some kinda heaven will be found

5. Lord Lay Your Hand on My Shoulder = Sir John Franklin

Note: This one’s not on the playlist because it was written specially for the musical and it hasn’t formally been released yet! You can listen to a clip from it here though!

Lord lay your hand on my shoulder And guide me to our home

6. Ain’t No Man = Solomon Tozer

There ain’t no man can save me There ain’t no man can enslave me Ain’t no man, or men that can change The shape my soul is in

7. May It Last = Jane, Lady Franklin

There is a sea and I am a captain Of something unknown, waves high as mountains There is a key and there is a lie Here’s to times that I catch it

8. Murder in the City = John & Tom Hartnell

Make sure my sister knows I loved her Make sure my mother knows the same Always remember there was nothing worth sharing Like the love that let us share our name

9. Complainte d’un Matelot Mourant = HMShips Erebus & Terror

[Instrumental]

10. A Gift for Melody Anne = Harry Goodsir

Lord, I just want my life to be true And I just want my heart to be true I just want my words to be true I want my soul to feel brand new

11. Through My Prayers = Francis Crozier

Every night after and every day since I find myself crying when the memory hits Sometimes it knocks me down Sometimes I can just put it away

12. Satan Pulls the Strings = Cornelius Hickey

Mama’s cooking something up, serving to us all Satan’s ringing in now and I gotta take the call Gotta take the call, boys, gotta take the call Satan’s ringing in now and I gotta take the call

13. No Hard Feelings = John Irving

Will I join with the ocean blue? Or run into a savior true? And shake hands laughing, and walk through the night, Straight to the light, holding the love I’ve known in my life And no hard feelings

14. The Once and Future Carpenter = Thomas Blanky

Forever I will move like the world that turns beneath me And when I lose my direction, I’ll look up to the sky I’ll be ready to surrender, and remember, well we’re all in this together If I live the life I’m given, I won’t be scared to die

[ao3feed-superbat]

head for the exits

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hml5JRx by Ferox Superman and Batman go undercover with a couple's therapist to investigate a string of recent murders. It goes... okay.   “We’ve been working together for over six years and sleeping together for nearly five and a half. But we're not a couple. He’s made that very clear, so I'm at a loss for words on why he dragged me here since, y’know, we're not a couple.”   Clark shifts his whole body again. He hooks one foot under him, letting his boot get on this woman's thousand plus dollar couch and watches Bruce in profile. He hates how beautiful he is.   “It was a mistake, right, B? It’s unprofessional, right, B? It's not going to happen again, right, B? But then two days later you're down on your knees for me again in the locker room with all our coworkers just on the other side of the door and you're begging me to fuck you in your car when our shifts are done, and then you're calling me at three in the morning to rush over because you miss me and you need me and you can't wait. And then you're kicking me out at five because you want to sleep and you have never — not even once — stayed the night with me.” Words: 8134, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Mentions of self-harm, Bruce Wayne is a mess, Clark Kent is also a mess but he's better at hiding it, Established Relationship, Undercover, Fake Dating, but they've been hooking up for years, Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, roleplaying as your partner in couples counseling, Black Mercy, The case is mostly set dressing read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hml5JRx

[rosiestalez]

“I Love You”

Angsty and Fluffy pt. 2 of “Caught”

Summary: After part 1 you find some news that shocks you, and you don’t really know how to react, and then an even bigger shock appears.

Author Note: Hey everyone, I was going to wait to post this part two, but I got excited. I have to post this next part. It’s kinda cute!

Warnings: Age gap mentioned, Mentions of murder, Jake (Dick’s son) is brought up, but only for a second, mention of blood, And Main Character is kind of annoying.

Happy reading!!

“What happened?” He pulls you into a tight hug, you could feel his heart pounding through his bare chest. He keeps himself groomed well, not a single chest hair in sight to tickle your ears or nose. He lets out a deep breath and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Baby, it’s okay you can tell me.”, you reassure him leaning in deeper into his hug.

“Nothing. Just a bad mission.” He sighs. He lets go of you and sits up in the bed, his head falls to his palms. You hear a soft cry. You hug him as close as you can to you. No words need to be said in this moment. That’s okay, you understand that his line of work comes with its ups and downs, but this doesn’t feel normal. He never cry’s he’s more a punching bag kinda man. Or sometimes he is “pouting” in the bat cave. But you have never seen or heard him cry, something or someone made him crack. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” You rock, and stroke is messy black hair. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened. Whatever you saw it’s gonna be okay.” You half heartedly smile removing his hands from his face gently. You cup his face and kiss his cheeks. “You’re alive and that’s all that matters.” You follow. His face sinks into your palms, eyes fluttering shut.

“I-“ he hesitates, sighs, “I- killed somebody.” He pauses, his teary doe eyes locking with yours. Your eyes widen at the news, you move back slightly as shock fills your senses.

“Wh-wha-why?”, you stutter.

“He was going to hurt you, I can’t let that happen”, his hands reach up to grab your face. You jerk back slightly. You remove yourself from the bed finding the closest items you have that resemble clothes and dart out the room to the bathroom slamming the door behind you.

Your body sinks down to the ground, you pull your knees to your chest and sit there zoning out. No tears, no thoughts, your mind is silent. Two minutes later a soft knock rings through the bathroom, shaking you out of your “thoughts”. “Hey, baby?”, you say nothing. “fuck-shit”, he whispers to himself. “ y/n, I need to come in, I have to tell you what happened. I’m also bleeding one of my scratches opened back up.” His voice doesn’t sound normal, it’s concern, panic, and regret. You contemplate, opening up the door while still sitting on the cold tile floor. You know the rules, they never kill, so why was this any different. Was it his fear talking? An accident? You don’t know how to feel about this but you sit silently, he seats himself on the toilet. You grab the first aid from the bottom of the shelf and begin to unpack the materials needed to close up his scratches so they won’t get infected.

“What happened?” You ask, voice flat. You begin to clean his chest with alcohol, which cause him to inhale sharply. “What happened to make you kill, what happened to YOU?” You add.

He sighs, “They were gonna hurt you like I said.” His head falls, “Superman, he was going to hurt you. There’s something wrong with him. It scared me.” Your eyebrow cocks.

“You killed Clark Kent?”, you grab neosporin and a wrap. He nods.

“I did.” He sighs his head lifting to face the ceiling, “I got scared, you’re alone, mom is gone, dad in Arkham. You’re alone.” You stand up and wrap his chest with the gaws and wrap.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You softly speak.

“You don’t need that stress. Always looking over your shoulder. That’s not fair to you.” You sit back down placing the components back into the box before finding you place back on the floor. “You’re good for me, but it’s dangerous for you. These villains know that I love you and they will taunt me. Always threatening to hurt you or Jake.” You pause, your movements stop. Did he just say what you think he said?

“You what?”

“What?”, he looks confused, “My son Jake? Remember?”

“No not that.” He tilts his head trying to figure out the problem with his statement. “You love me?” You ask.

His dark eyes look into yours, his pupils enlarged. He smiles softly at you.

“yes, y/n”, he pauses, “I love you and I was trying to find the perfect time to tell you, but that’s hard.” He adds

“Ha, yeah.”

“Hey”, he places his fingers under your chin lifting up slightly so your eyes can meet again, “I love you, beyond simple words can explain, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, how ever long or short.”

“Oh. Wow!”

“Oh. Wow?” He repeats, “I mean I get it if you don’t. My way of life isn’t for everyone, but after a year you would thi-“, before he could finish his sentence you pull him into a deep kiss. Hands tangled into his dark hair, pulling him so deeply. Sparks fly in your heart. You pull away smiling.

“I love you too Dickie.”

“Really?”, he grins still looking deeply into your eyes, “wow!”

“Yes-“

He stands up from the toilet and runs off tho the room. You don’t know what he’s doing and you just sit there on the bathroom floor. A few moments later he scrambled back in, he looks extremely dopey, his wide grin and red cheeks. He has something hidden behind his back.

“Ri-“

“Before I do this, I really need you to stop calling me Richard.” He puts out one of his hands gesturing you to shake on it. “Deal.”

“Yeah, deal.”, you reach out your hand, giving it a nice firm shake.

“Okay”, he inhaled before dropping down on his knees matching your level. He lets out a deep exhale puling the small box from behind his back. “Y/n I love you.” You gasp hands covering your mouth, “You mean so much to me, and I will never let anyone hurt you. I will always keep you safe from this crazy ass world. I promise to cherish you and make you the happiest woman in the world.” His smile just goes wider, you feel tears brimming your eyes. “Listen I know you’re 20 and still going through school, but I want to grow with you and know that you’re mine forever. We don’t have to get married right away, but I am giving you this ring to show a visual of my love.” He opens the small velvet box to reveal a medium sized teardrop diamond ring. Nothing to flashy. You smile looking up at him, “Will you marry me Y/n?”

You smile, holding out your left hand, thank goodness you just did your nails. He slides the ring on your small finger, it’s a perfect fit.

You jump into his arms hugging him tight. “I’m yours forever.” You whisper into his neck. Tears flow down your eyes as you just hug him thinking about all the goodness in your future with the man of your dreams.

[wipbigbang]

Round 2 Of Artists Claims For The Regular WIPBB Are Open! Round 2 lasts until July 31st! You may claim 3 fics this round!

This is one of the fics open for claiming...

Stranger Things #110 Title: Put me together again Pairing/Characters: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit | E Warnings/Tags: Graphic Violence, Non-con/Rape Forced Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Police, Age Difference, Eddie Munson is a journalist, Steve Harrington is a boss's whore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Prostitution, non consensual pet play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Drug Dealing, Medical Examination, Dark Steve Harrington, Dark Tommy Hagan, ExJunkie Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - 2000s, improper use of a gun (because there is a proper one?!), no underage even if it may seems so, Daddy Issues, Boot Worship, Vomiting, Organized Crime, Crimes & Criminals, Murder, Forced Feminization, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Impact Play, Anal Plug, Homophobic Language, Attempted Murder, Drug Use, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Suicide Attempt Summary: Three years ago, Steve's life changed for the worse. His father died, and his mother started to use drugs and became one of Tommy "The Butcher" Hagan's whore. Trying to survive and to keep his little brother, Dustin, out of the drug lord's hands, Steve is forced into prostitution. One night, he meets Police Officer Jim Hopper, who is investigating Hagan, and the ex-journalist Eddie Munson, who is seeking revenge against Hagan for personal reasons. Is Steve the key they were looking for?

#111 Title: Sing if You're Glad to be Gay Pairing/Characters: Eddie Munson / Steve Harrington Rating: Explicit | E Warnings/Tags: Graphic Violence dubious consent, period-typical homophobia / homophobic language, explicit relationship between 17 year old and 18 year old, suicidal ideation, bullying Summary: August, 1983:

Steve Harrington -- the man who would be king -- fell from the gentry's grace at the inaugural jock party of Eddie's senior year after Carol Perkins and Melissa Cargill caught him sucking off Tommy Hagan in the senior Harringtons’ suite. The Saturday soiree went from giving head to getting heads rolling as the coup d'etat kicked off. The moral majority had found Harrington on his knees, and they intended to keep him there. There was no forgiveness from his former friends; there was no atonement allowed for knowingly and willingly performing such an evil act. He was expelled post-haste from the sanctimonious sanctum of Hawkins’ high school high society.

Months before Will Byers disappears, Steve Harrington is outed, bullied, and shunned. Eddie would be overjoyed to find another gay kid in Hawkins if it wasn't THAT gay kid.

#112 Title: Pairing/Characters: Scott Clarke/ Wayne Munson Rating: Mature | M Warnings/Tags: Chooses not to use Warnings Graphic description of past injury Summary: After Wayne Munson gets a severe head wound in the war, he's sent home to deal with the aftermath. Between survivors guilt and the never-ending struggle to do day to day tasks, Wayne finds himself falling for the physical therapist making house calls.

Scott Clarke is fresh out of school and eager to prove himself as a resident, but when one truly difficult case comes across his desk, he can't help but try and make things just a little easier for Wayne. Even if that means going to his home for therapy visits rather than forcing him into the office.

The list of remaining fics and the link to sign up are below!

[fickle-tiction]

How about Lois Lane tickling Bruce at the knee?

Could be during an interview or while he's standing around in public?

Ooo I've never written Lois before so I will prob butcher her but it's okay since it's only a 3 sentence thing (have i ever in my life followed the rules for these things?) thanks for the challenge!

~~~

"I'd hold my tongue if I were you, Mr. Wayne." Lois whispered, her hand appearing out of nowhere to slip under his suit jacket and rest on his side, fingers sliding over the silky material of his shirt as they sought out the rich laughter she's heard so much about.

Bruce's left eyebrow rose of its own accord as Lois Lane snuck up behind him while he was teasing Clark and--was she trying to tickle him? It seems Clark's been talking about him to his friends, and Bruce didn't know if he should be flattered or if he should murder him. Unfortunately for him (fortunately for his boyfriend and his best friend) they were at a gala and Bruce had a part to play so his face split into a smile and he squirmed away from the tickling fingers.

"Ms. Lane." Bruce gasped, obnoxious Brucie person coming out to play, lest anyone around them become suspicious. "There was a time I would have loved to have your hands all over me." Lois narrowed her eyes at that, pinching his side hand and causing Bruce to suck in air between his teeth. His eyes were sparkling though, they both knew he deserved that. "But I'm trying out this monogamy thing." He pitched his voice low, as though he didn't want anyone around them to hear such an embarrassing fact.

"Oh?" Lois asked, hands trying to go back in for another strike. Bruce was lazily blocking her attempts, seemingly oblivious to Clark lurking behind him ready to strike. "And how's that working out?"

Lois knew exactly how that was working out. He was stupidly in love with sunshine personified, but he had a reputation to maintain and he couldn't possibly say that in public. "Well, it seems he's been divulging my deepest darkest secrets to reporters, so not gre-HEEEE--Clark!!"

Clark took the opportunity to hug Bruce from behind and tickle quick fingers over his stomach. He had to show Lois how it was really done, where Bruce couldn't control his reactions no matter how hard he tried as he desperately tried to tamp down on his laughter. The people closest to their group were looking on in amusement, and if this wound up in one of the gossip rags Bruce might actually kill him, so Clark let him go after he got a solid laugh out of him. It didn't take long.

[mrhowells]

Smallville 4x12

OH THANK GOD IT'S LOIS

my wife😭

OH GOOD GOD

broooo if I was Lana I'd be LIVID

oh heyyyy Sherriff🤗

LMAOOO where is the support Chloe😭😭😭

This Tim dude is so obviously the killer it wasn't even a plot twist the first time I watched it💀

Jason's mother is ridiculous

I forgot this was the episode Alicia exposed Clark to Chloe🤡 She just can't stop violating him, can she?

I can't believe I'm agreeing with the killer dude here but "they're both over 18" doesn't make it okay for a school coach to date a student, also let's not forget they started dating before she was 18💀💀

he's still insane tho

Lois is like "THANK YOU Chloe, for setting me up with a literal murderer"💀

Is Jason's mom flirting with Lex literal seconds after she told him she knew him as a young kid?

I'm sorry but every time I watch this scene and Clark screams "NOOOOO" I want to laugh😭

This scene is so ??????

She's been in what, 6 episodes now? They're not even friends yet but she's already seen so many sides of him he doesn't usually show to anyone except his parents, it's actually insane if you think about it.

"Lois if- If you found out something... something that someone didn't want you to know about them, would you tell them?" "That depends, is that person someone you care about?" "Yeah." "And does keeping the secret hurt anyone?" "No."

the love I have for her, you don't understand

LOIS FREAKING LANE, THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE

"I've learned the hard way that people keep secrets for a reason. Even from the people they're closest to."

Once again Lois I am down on one knee-

Nooo Lois pls don't leave🥺🥺

Do you honestly have to ask?💀💀💀 Should I start LISTING reasons and incidents, because-

[stalkedbytrains]

Here At the End

[The introduction to reoccurring character Lilith, the Queen of the Kill. It is loosely set in the world kind of anchored by the Assassin's Monthly magazine established in Meet Stan Weebledorf.]

“Lilith. Lil… We… need to talk.”

“Yeah? What do we need to talk about?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“This this, or us this?” She motioned to the table full of guns and then to herself.

“Either. Both!” the young man stood up and started pacing. He was younger than Lilith, so the job hadn’t hardened him to the work. “This entire thing! Everything we’ve been doing! I can’t take it anymore!”

The woman put down the assault rifle and gave her boyfriend, the only boyfriend that she’d been with for this long, a really annoyed look. “Really? You’re calling a stop to this, to us, now?”

“Yes!”

She took a deep breath. “I know I said you could walk out whenever you wanted.” She pushed her long hair back out of her harsh green eyes, “But this is ridiculous. After all of the shit that we went through? We’ve run enough guns to arm a medium sized country. Well, at the very least, arm Monaco incredibly well. I think the we’ve killed enough people to populate a high rise. We’ve supplied two different, rival, gangs with enough cocaine to suffocate in. And this, killing the one guy who completely fucked us over at every turn, this is the thing that you back out of?”

“Yes! I… we… Everything we’ve done up to this point, all of it, felt necessary. At the time. But this… this is unnecessary. This is…. This is…”

“Come on, say it.”

“It’s just…”

She leaned over, looking him straight in the eyes, her green eyes tearing into him. “Evil.”

“Well it’s certainly not good!” he yelled, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“Did you think any of this was?” she asked simply.

“I felt it was necessary! But this! Murdering a senator? He’s the front-runner for President! He’s got kids! His fucking family is on national TV every damn day!” he shouted.

“So fucking what?” she demanded. “What did you think that everyone we got into firefights with? Everyone we killed because they tried to kill us was a celibate priest? A fucking eunuch? You don’t think anyone of the them had kids or a wife or a boyfriend or some shit? Each one was a goddamn orphan?”

“No, but I mean they were trying to kill us!”

“And what the fuck do you think Senator Dickbutt there has been doing? He’s been pulling strings since before day one. He’s been behind every spot of trouble we’ve had, every time a fucking Lebanese hit squad suddenly appeared and tried to blow our collective brains out, every bullet I’ve taken for you, that goddamn piece of lead still clinking by your knee cap. Who the fuck do you think paid for it? Who do you think financed the hit squads? Paid for the guns? Paid for the bullets, the body armor? How the fuck do you think they got a goddamn tank? Senator Fucking Family Man Clark Dickbutt Mathers.”

A silence settled over them for a moment.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “What do you want me to say? You want me to add assassination to my list of sins?”

“It’s only assassination if you’re on the receiving end. No, for us, this is vengeance, sweet fucking payback.”

“No. No I can’t.”

“Fine. You’re welcome to go. But if I find out that you warn the Senator or you try to stop me, you know what will happen,” she said with a hand on her favorite assault rifle.

“Really? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” he asked, weary, resigned.

“I never once lied to you about who I am, what I do. I gave you every chance to walk away. It just tickles me that after everything we’ve done, you call it quits at the absolute fucking ending. It’s a bit fucking hypocritical, don’t you think?” she asked. When no answer came to her question she pointed. “The door’s over there. You can leave whenever you like.”

[beheadedcousins]

oh this is really great with answering a question i had

(transcript in the read more if you can't read the photo)

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Anyone who's asked me about TIGERS knows how quickly I can go from "It's a teen horror comedy!" to an in-depth discussion about the debiltating pressures put on young women to succeed. I always circle back to its teen horror nature, but I do take this show pretty seriously. After all, l experienced firsthand how challenging it is to be a teen girl. For me, it turned out to be quite difficult because I eventually realized ľm a trans guy, but that's an entirely different musical.

As much as TIGERS is murder mystery,it's also about nine young women who are at extremely formative places in their lives. They want to feel hopeful about the future but are afraid that their greatest weaknesses could become what define them, especially after a failed stunt goes viral. The show opens as the Tigers cheer team is gathering for their annual sleepover- but their attempts to appear effortless around each other are painstaking, and each gir is contending with her own secrets and challenges.

Riley, the new captain, is determined to stay positive. She's still working out how to be a strong leader, but she refuses to let her team down. Cairo prefers partying over responsibility and doesn't see the harm in having a little fun, though that often comes at the expense of others.Chess isstruggling to recover from a knee injury that ended her lifelong dream of being an Olympic gymnast and led to an addicton to painkillers. Kate tries to help Chess recover,but their relationship has become complicated as Chess prepares to go off to college and Kate realizes she's falling in love with her distracted, spiraling best friend.

Annleigh relies heavily on faith to guide her, but ends up overwhelmed by unexpected urges, especially when it comes to her boyfriend, Clark. Annleigh's stepsister Farrah no longer feels supported after the botched stunt put her in danger, and her habits have slipped from playful partying to a dependency on alcohol. Tigers mascot Reese has faced a long history of bullying by her classmates, but she's learning to believe in herself even when no one else will. Freshman Mattie is optimistic that she'll have a great year and has no idea how wrong she's about to be. Eva, a flyer from a rival school, is used to not getting what she knows she deserves, but still takes a chance on a new experience. Soon,one of these characters reaches a breaking point, and three Tigers don't make it through the night.

And that's the team: desperate to connect but terrified to communicate, just trying to get through a single sleepover/party/practice (in a social context) alive. I could get sentimental about how many years I've spent with this show and how much these characters mean to me,but l hope that speaks for itself.I hope the honesty and empathy that's gone into telling this story comes through as powerfully as the screlting (and there's a lot of screlting). I hope it's sometimes very funny and sometimes quite devastating, and that some of it stays with you for a while.

As you know, the sleepover has been a Giles Corey High School tradition for 38 years now. And I'm honored to carry that on here with all of you.

-PRESTON MAX ALLEN

[owl127]

Does Lexa ever get exasperated (lovingly) by junk-everywhere-clarke 😂

Oh, yes. Even though werewolves are comfortable with nudity, there is a limit, and someone’s junk in your face is beyond that limit (thus Anya’s reactions). Lexa tried to get Clarke to, you know, close her legs ("your mom is here, Clarke, for the gods"), but it’s hard to break a bad habit...

Here’s a snippet of life after the events of the fic (in their happily ever after, I guess)

0000

"Can you see them? Please tell me they’re close." Raven’s voice was tight with effort, and the small hill at the Arcadian park was a challenge as she approached her third semester. Anya’s supporting hand held steady on the small of her back, always close and protective. If Clarke had been overprotective when Lexa was pregnant, Anya took it to the next level. Raven complained because "there're only a dozen explosive experiments at the lab!", but she surrendered to it pretty easily.

"Just up there." Lexa saw the white ears and smiled, hearing the yipping of their pups. Clarke and the pups had gone ahead to secure a good spot for their picnic, and the shade under the large oak tree was perfect.

Everything was perfect until they saw Clarke spread over their picnic blanket.

"Unbelievable," Anya murmured, and Raven snorted.

"Every time. Since she was a pup," Raven added, pointing to the chair Anya was carrying. Anya unfolded it, placed a small pillow on it, and helped Raven sit down.

Lexa’s face warmed, and she licked her lips. The sight of Clarke’s body brought back memories from earlier this morning, which might be the reason why Clarke needed a nap. The nap itself wasn’t the problem; maybe Clarke should consider not sleeping while their pups ran around her in circles—one of their favorite activities—but her mate really should learn how to close her legs while sleeping. Or at least not to spread them as a fashion statement.

Their oldest touched her cold nose on Lexa’s leg, her ears still pup-round. She looked up at Lexa and fell dramatically, spreading her short legs the same way Clarke did.

"No!" Lexa barked, to which the pups jumped in response, and Clarke woke up, startled. Lexa picked up their daughter and sent direct orders through their wolf bond, with the small pup whining.

"What happened?" Clarke asked sleepily, and Raven kicked her knee lightly.

"Close your legs." Anya said while picking up the second pup, letting him lick her face.

"Clarke." Lexa had their daughter on her shoulder, calming her after the reprimand. "The pups cannot pick up on this."

Clarke blinked, confused, and licked her chops. "Napping?"

"The advertise-your-junk-for-everyone-to-see thing," Anya offered while pouring water for the pup in her lap. The boy almost jumped on the bowl, spreading water all over Anya, who, unphased, fished a towel from her bag and started drying the pup while he drank. Raven smiled softly at her mate, one hand on her belly, and looked at Clarke.

"The fact that everyone in our pack can give a detailed description of your penis is not a good thing, Clarke."

Lexa’s blush darkened at Raven’s words.

"Pee-is."

They froze at the small voice in the wolf bond, and every single pair of eyes focused on the pup in Lexa’s lap in expressions varying from horror to absolute delight. The girl marveled at the attention and repeated the word along with a happy bark. "Pee-is!"

Raven straight-up cackled, one hand flying to her mouth at Lexa’s murderous glare.

"Was your pup’s first word ‘penis’, Lex?" Anya asked in mock seriousness, her fangs glinting under her smirk.

"Oh boy," Clarke whined when Lexa’s glare landed on her. "It’s Raven’s fault!"

Unhelpfully, the little alpha repeated, "Pee-is!"

"Lexa, babe—"

Lexa stood, placing her daughter on the ground and stripping off her sundress before shapeshifting into her midnight-fur wolf form. "I’m going for a run with the pups," she declared, focusing her steely green eyes on Clarke. "This is on you." She growled but changed her posture when facing her pups. She picked up the boy from Anya’s lap with her mouth, and the small girl followed, tripping on her short legs before keeping up with her mom.

"Well, I think her pronunciation was awesome, and you should be proud," Raven said when Lexa walked away.

"You’re screwed," Anya snickered. "At least one person won’t be seeing your junk for a while."

[funkinblues]

Yeah, that's right

It's not a Hardy Boy mystery neither

This is real shit

This shit come on right after Hart to Hart y'all

No doubt, seven o'clock Fantasy Island

This episode is "Death to a Brooklyn Man"

And this is Tony's Angels, aiyyo

It was three white bitches who worked for Tony Starks

Undercover agents, far beyond narcs

Amazed by their beauty marks, Wonder Woman bracelets

Knee-high boots that was made by Clarks

My dick got hard at how they spoke and shit

Every language was music to the kid as if

I was modern day King Midas

Doreen, Skye and Kelly, Starky's Angels, Shaolin's finest

Though it happened in the streets of Brooklyn

Plus I played the whip real low 'cause my face was woofin'

My Angels jetted out of Albee Square, gun out, wrap in their hair

Kinda crowded so they clapped in the air

Chased a nigga down block for block, squeezing Glocks

These mommies real angels, took one off his top

He's a rapist, murderer, convict, burglar

The more they ran, the more their skirts got dirtier

Sending shots like check day, FedEx expressway

Boom bow bing, you heard the gunplay

"Who shot that duck out the window?", Mr. Lee said

"Three pay now, you fucking weed head"

We can stop the finest suspect, he's dead

Then I pulled up, "Come on girls to Club Med"

Stay tuned for the conclusion

Three's Company "Family Jewels"

Two brown sisters assisted the Villain, DOOM

He woke up stoked like they was still in the room

Freed his right arm and leg, it was more like a sweep

Release his other leg, arm, head and rose to his feet

Staggering except for the socks and mask, naked

Threw on the boxers, searching for the Treo

Checkin' for the keys, the dough, a robbery expected

Yet nothing obvious was missing

Recollected now why Hollywood hotties stepped in Giuseppe Zanotti's

Personnel nurses, Chanel purses, CLK shottie

Chasing Patrice with Thai iced teas

She drive while nice to veggie fried rice spicy

Told them both, "I don't feel so well, my belly

Spin me down Melrose, drive me to the telly

Y'all go 'head and get the dutches, be back, copy"

Feeling woozy, no uzi, who's he see in the lobby

stopped and looked

Whoops, left the knot in her pocket book

Wasn't the juks but too careless fearless

Got to the room and fell flat out on the terrace

The question remains, "Who bound and gagged him?"

That's when they found the empty pack of black Magnum

Villains skied a gram on the street, 50 G

The part of Mr. Roper was played by Mr. T

I'm Mr. T, fuck Charlie

Like I was sayin' (true story) I'm Mr. T

Kelly, you gon' give me some pussy?

You know what you gon' do (Janet was dark-skinned)

You too Dorine, your little fat ass can't get away neither and shit

Kristy was brown-skinned

Uh-huh, that's right, yeah, I'ma call them Theodore niggas

SWAT team on alert and shit

Uh-huh, yeah, that's right, Skye, you can't hide, baby

You got the best head nigga, word up

The mask was chromed out

This real Angel shit, y'all my bitches

Toney Bosley in this bitch, nigga

Word up, gimme back my boots

Theodore! (Villain)

[evilminji]

.....okay see this? This is calling back to that Horrible But Awesome Crackship of Vlad/Lex. The two most wealthy, flamboyant, egocentric, manipulative, etc, ASSHOLES to ever walk the business world. The "How DARE you not be obsessed with me and cry yourself to sleep every night because I won't let you lick my boots, as I take all your money" Ship.

The one that traumatizes local Heros. Creates support groups. Has financed what no one wants to know for certain are what we can only assume murder sex dungeons. They have sexy body pillows of each other they use for shooting practice. No one in the BDSM community would ever, EVER return their phone calls or claim them. In fact, both those men concern them deeply. THAT ship.

........I love that ship.

It's the single greatest trashfire to ever hit DC. It would make Clark genuinely try to learn if he could get blackout drunk. Look his beloved wife in the eyes and say "Lois. We need to move. To Mars."

They would be "I am Sexier and Hotter then you but also you are BENEATH my notice so you better be paying attention to me while I am hotter and sexier and ignoring you!" At each other but UNETHICALLY and with CRIME and supervilliany on top. And EVERYONE would have to deal with it. It would be, in fact, the WORLD'S problem.

Because? They are hatefully divorced and they've never dated but still wanna [Very Graffic and not safe for minor and oh sweet JESUS] each other, so OBVIOUSLY? Luthor has to take their son in the divorce. Because he's BETTER then Masters. So he will steal his heir and Masters will seeth and- *convoluted plot basicly boiling down to "I want my enemy broken and on his knees before me but also as a sex thing"*

And Danny is skeeved. H-Halp. This is what he gets.... this is karma... he wished (DIDN'T SAY! But he did think it!) That Vlad would move on from his mom... and WHAT DOES HE DO??? He somehow gets WORSE. Somebody pick Danny up, he's scared! T^T

*local himbo Brucie Wayne swans by* "You good, champ?"

"Save me."

"Say no more! You like pictures of dogs? Course you do! Everyone loves dogs! My son has THOUSANDS! Pictures that is. Feels like dogs too, why just the other day-" #BlessThisAirhead #GothamYourBoySavedALife

@gettingcomfyinyourwalls @stealingyourbones @cyrwrites

DP x DC prompt #12

Vlad names Danny his successor and Lex, under the assumption that Danny is evil like Vlad, starts trying to get Danny to join him like he failed to get Vlad to do by revealing his evil plans.

Danny just stands there like ._.