#smallville nights

[2003daredevil]

I'm still in disbelief about it but I went to Smallville Nights laat night. Literally a dream come true. To be among Smallville fans and meeting Tom and Michael and trying not to develop a new crush on both of them (i was NOT ready for how charasmatic Michael is in person) I would always say 'haha i wanna go to SV nights so I can be Clark' but I did. Tom put the real Clark flannel on my shoulders and I got to read Clark's lines in a scene from the show. I wasn't nervous at all and they were impressed becauss I tried to memorize the line instead of just reading it. It was the best day of my life in a long time. Im so grateful for the experience and so glad Ive survived through recent events to see it. I wanna do it all over again every year.

[k1ddiecat]

I got to go to Smallville Nights and it was pretty much the most special night of my life and I had so much fun with Tom and Michael and I can still feel what it was like to wear Clark's flannel *-*

There were no pictures allowed but this is how I remember it! I had only Morgan's tail on bc I had been suiting all day.

[lunastar92]

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST] - [prev] I just want you to imagine Jaskier, very early post trial, mostly nonverbal, not in control of his strength yet being just such a creepy kid sometimes. (His parents still love him obviously.) I also have a feeling that Jaskier is subconsciously 100% stressed at all times and wants to do his absolute best to please his parents and make zero mistakes so that they won't send him away again. (They didn't and he knows that, but he is just a traumatized child.)

[cinturon-cadena]

I suddenly deeply understand all the DPxDC headcannons that kryptonite is crystalized ectoplasm. Like, at first I was like "Oh yeah, bc they're both green and semi-glowy(?) and it's a fun plot point for the crossover!"

But now?

In Smallville it straight-up gives people powers. And not just any powers, but powers associated with whatever that person happened to be exposed to/obsessed with at the time of exposure! It's extremely emotionally reactive, just like (headcannoned) ectoplasm!!

It all makes sense now!

[magpie-trove]

Need to cultivate those old fashioned virtues: pluck, spunk, moxie, and a can do attitude

[smallcloisville]

🎶.....last Friday night🎶

Here's the edit to the most chaotic and funny ep all time 😌✨

[batvilletv]

If Todd Phillips really is done with DC Universe after Joker 2... what a disappointment of a film. Where will this Joker character go from here? A cliffhanger like The Sopranos. That's it, you just sopranos joker. But shitier.

[nicnacsnonsense]

You know, I think Clark and Lex’s relationship really could have benefited from a safe word. Something either of them could have said to the other to communicate “your current line of inquiry is infringing on my privacy in a way I cannot elaborate on without further compromising my privacy, so I need you to redirect or drop it.”

[cthulhum]

okay !!! obligatory fandoms post !! this is what i fuck with

supernatural

hannibal

interview with the vampire

merlin

yellowjackets

warrior nun

midnight mass

what we do in the shadows

good omens

our flag means death

the boys

queer as folk

smallville

superman and lois

the bear

alice in borderland

everything percy jackson

invincible

the umbrella academy

9-1-1

sherlock

shameless

once upon a time

and ao3 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[polkadotdragonx]

Fanart for the fanfiction Through the Ice by Tallihensia.

[fairyroses]

I’m sorry... it wasn’t me. Are you sure?

SMALLVILLE — 1.15 / 2.04 / 4.17  ↳ dark!Clexana ‘expressing certain desires’ to each other 👀

[gnomewithalaptop]

Excerpt from the one where Martha and Jonathan Kent find a baby girl out in the field that night

After the meteor shower, they put the kid in Jonathan’s old clothes. There wasn’t much else they could do with her, and maybe she was some kind of alien time bomb just waiting to go off, but Martha’d be damned if that meant she’d let her run round as a naked alien time bomb. She had standards after all.

And anyway, the kid wasn’t acting much like a bomb. So far, she’d been a bit too interested in Jonathan’s old wind-up car collection – another rescue from the upstairs closet. It was like she’d never seen one before – which, Martha reminded herself, she probably hadn’t. Every time she managed to set one off, she’d whip round and stare at her with her eyes all blown up big as North Dakota and a smile twice as broad.

It was cute. That was the word Martha was looking for. The kid was cute.

Jonathan was a bit less pleased. He hung back at the edges of the room, arms crossed up at the chest, and his chin all jutted out like it always did when he was thinking. He thought it made him look pensive. Privately, Martha thought it made him look a bit like he’d just had a root canal. He shifted a bit to the side, looking all shifty-eyed at the floor. “She looks like a boy,” he said gruffly, after a beat.

Martha blinked and looked back at the child hanging off her lap. The kid, still absorbed in studying the wheels attached to one of the more well-maintained Chevies in Jonathan’s collection, didn’t seem to notice.

When she’d been naked in that field, it’d been obvious, but now, all trussed up in Jonathan’s old sweatshirt and Jonathan’s old shorts with her hair cropped short and curly around her snubbed, wide little face – she could have passed as any one of the little boys in the local preschool. “Huh,” Martha said, leaning back on one hand. The kid glanced up at her disdainfully, momentarily annoyed by the sudden shift in her seat, then went back to studying the Chevy.

Still hanging out by the doorway, Jonathan cleared his throat, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Martha, sweetheart, she’s not ours to keep.”

Martha smoothed a hand across the kid’s face, into her hair, and didn’t say anything. It was good hair, she noted absently, all thick and black and curly like that. It would grow out nice. In a year or two, it’d be long enough to do up in pigtails. Not that she was making plans, of course. “I just,” she said finally, when the silence started to stretch a bit too long, “I just feel like there’s a reason she’s here. She’s exactly what I wished for in the flower shop this morning.”

It hadn’t been what she’d meant to say. But even still, it felt right in her mouth, remembering itty-bitty Lana Lang in her pink little tutu and crown. She’d tapped Martha on the forehead with her dollar store wand and grinned her gap-toothed smile, and for a moment, it’d been just them.

Lana’s parents had gotten hit by some of the first of the meteors, Martha remembered suddenly with a pang. Lana wouldn’t be smiling half so easy after today.

From the doorway, Jonathan let out a short, sharp almost-laugh through his nose, bringing Martha back to Earth, before he walked over to crouch down beside them. “Martha Kent,” he said, quirking a half smile in her direction. “Since when did you believe in magic wands?”

Martha reached over, mindful of the child in her lap, and laid a hand on top of his. “Since today,” she said. The kid squirmed in her lap, Chevy momentarily forgotten, and Martha made to lean back again to give her more room, only to stop when the kid twisted under her arm and popped her head out the other side, now sprawled completely on her stomach across Martha’s lap. She looked at them for a long second, her eyes grave, before she carefully extracted a hand from where it’d been lying pinned underneath her and gently laid it across theirs.

“Annava-bshhht,” she said seriously. Then she squirmed her way back across Martha’s lap and started playing with the Chevy again.

In the warm stillness of the kitchen, the doorbell was a gunshot.

Jonathan sprang up immediately. “Get her upstairs,” he told her. Martha nodded, once, and grabbed the kid by the middle before she could wriggle away again. “Just a second!” Jonathan called from the kitchen. He made a shooing motion with one hand, and Martha ducked out of the room and up the stairs.

The kid, it turned out, was not happy with this turn of events. Martha had only just barely set her down in the guest bedroom before she was ducking under her outstretched arms and speeding down the stairs in a jumble of tiny feet.

“No, Ethan, really,” Jonathan was saying to the copper outside, bracing one sun-browned forearm against the doorframe. “It’s fine. We’re…” he trailed off as the kid darted into the room to plaster herself around his knees. Martha slowed to a stop, wincing, and the kid looked back at her, that big broad smile of hers back in full force.

Ethan looked down at Jonathan’s feet. “Who’s the little fella?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Jonathan set a hand down on the kid’s shoulder. “She’s a girl, actually,” he said gruffly. “We, uh…”

Martha jumped in. “We just picked her up from the adoption agency this morning.”

Ethan broke into a smile, bending down to look the kid in the eye. The kid stared back at him, still smiling. “Well, she sure is a cute one,” he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair. He turned back to Martha, standing up. “She got a name?”

Martha stared at him for a moment, the polite smile suddenly frozen on her face. They’d never discussed names for a girl – Jonathan had had his heart set on a boy, and since they’d been planning to adopt anyway— “Clark,” she blurted out and immediately wanted to sink into the floor. She took a step forward, already backtracking. “I thought, uh, that my family name would make a good… first name,” she said.

From over his shoulder, Jonathan gave her a flat look. Ethan stroked his mustache doubtfully, glancing down at the kid again. “Clark?” he said. “Bit of a strange name for a girl.”

Jonathan glanced up to the ceiling and visibly took a deep breath. “It’s got an E at the end,” he told Ethan, after a beat.

Ethan tilted his head to one side. “Well,” he said. “How modern.” He checked his watch. “I’d best be heading back to the station. Congratulations again to you both. It’s, uh, nice to know some good came out of all this tragedy.”

Martha kept her smile firmly in place until the door clicked shut. Then, and only then, did she turn to Jonathan, hands on her hips. “’It’s got an E at the end’?” she hissed.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “’Clark’?”

The kid – Clarke – stared up at them from where she’d wrapped herself around Jonathan’s legs, uncomprehending, and for a moment, both of them fell silent, just watching her. Ever so slowly, her grip around his pant leg loosened. Then, all at once, she tumbled backwards onto her rear and started to cry.

Both of them knelt down at the exact same time. “Okay,” Jonathan said softly, after a beat. “I guess we’re doing this.”

Martha smiled wetly at him, and grabbed hold of his hand. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess we are.”

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Just got into the poll making vibe today

[kent-farm]

—Smallville, “Roulette” + Lois & Clark, “The Prankster”

[hollowsart]

everyone and their grandparents: if Metropolis was in the real world, it would be New York City. It's the only correct answer.

me: .....but consider: Kansas. Smallville being a small farm town in Kansas.. really pushing into the farmer and outsider feel for Clark while Metropolis is this big booming industrial city that has long forgotten its farming roots and is so far pushed into the "future" and expanding further that it feel so much more different, Clark would feel like a fish out of water to a more impactful degree.