skinny dipping with your heart out

it’s my favourite part now

[inkdrinkerworld]

୨ৎ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝐟𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳 23, 𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘫, 𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘯 + 𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘢𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 ୨ৎ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬:

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐫3!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ⓘ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴. 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯! 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶ㅤ ꨄ︎.ᐟ ˚｡𖦹°‧ @he-cannoli-foolhimself for the dividers

𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ↴

[inkdrinkerworld]

Clark loves watching you do your hair on a Sunday evening. Loves the little routine of you putting in your hair mask and washing your sheets while he meal preps your breakfasts.

He loves the way your hair smells after you wash it out. He isn’t ashamed to let you know how much he loves it either. “Honey girl,” he sings as he comes up behind you as you pull the towel out of your hair. “You smell delicious.”

You giggle as he tucks his nose into your neck, his hand twisting a damp strand around his fingers. “You’re such a boy!” You laugh as he dramatizes a sniff to your hair.

“I am not!” He totally is because he starts grumbling playfully against your skin before he pulls away. “I love wash days.”

You huff, “Wash day is exhausting, Clark.” You brush through your wet hair carefully, cringing when the water and hair lotion splashes onto your bare shoulder and Clark’s nose.

“So let me do it,” he says it so easy, so casually. That you look up at him through the mirror, finding his blue eyes earnest as he looks back at you. “M’serious, let me finish it and you can sit and we can watch our show.”

He kisses your cheek while you deliberate, getting all your products and tools in the bedroom. Clark sets on your show and even goes to get your favourite soda.

He pays the bed and beckons you closer. “C’mon my love,” you scamper to the bed and kiss his cheek.

“You’re the best man ever,” you feel his cheeks heat under your lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re always welcome honey girl, you know I love making your life easier.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

it’s a rainy Saturday, World Cup is later today but for now I’m reading Lore Olympus because a parent gifted me the first two volumes and enjoying the cozy weather

[inkdrinkerworld]

Oh look! It’s Clark Kent!!!

[inkdrinkerworld]

low key thinking about being a bitch to Clark… like you’re the bitchy coworker that always has something to say and you’re blunt and borderline rude, and obviously you’re annoyed by Clark always being happy and sunny and then one day you’re literally in shits creek with Perry and the stupid fucking piece you’re writing and you’re a little more than mean to Clark and he just kinda looks like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and it makes your skin crawl because he NEVER takes anything you say when you’re this worked up seriously but you know you’ve gone too far and have to apologize to him and he kinda makes you work for his forgiveness… not because he feels so hurt by it, but because it’s low key endeared him to you even more (?)

[inkdrinkerworld]

is Clark Kent a brat tamer, yes or no? Because I’ve got a fic idea and I have a VISION

Let me know

yes he 100% is

nah girl he’s not

Voting ended onJul 7

[inkdrinkerworld]

I love the way you write Clark, hes so sweet and dreamy 😞 i wish he was real

I wish he was real too😞😞he’s the best guy around!!!

[inkdrinkerworld]

clark taking care of you while you’re sick <3

Your body’s basically powered down and Clark feels immense guilt every time you cough in your sleep. You’ve been ill for the last three days and the cough is genuinely the part that terrifies him. That and the fever you keep spiking every couple hours.

Your entire body shakes as you cough, your chest rattles and it makes your already frayed voice worse. Nothing has helped besides medicine that has you knocked out all day.

Ma Kent drops by some soup and Clark feels bad having to wake you up to have some but he knows it’ll help. “Honey girl,” he murmurs, hand on the back of your head as he tries to rouse you. “Time to have some soup.” You wake slowly, and when you do you try to say ‘hi’ and break out in a fit of coughs. Clark frowns, “It’s okay baby,” he kisses your nose. You’ve long since given up on trying to stop him. “Ma brought chicken egg noodle soup.”

He feeds you one bowl and then you lay your head on his arm, suddenly tired. “Tasted really good.” Your voice cracks on every other syllable and he frowns.

“I hate how sick you’ve gotten,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. You cough, and his palm immediately rubs your back.

“Can I have more medicine?” His guilt worsens.

“You can’t angel,” he whispers, “You’ve maxed out everything.”

You eyes go glassy, and Clark really feels his heart drop. “We can have a warm shower and steam and maybe it’ll open up your chest.”

“Okay,” you murmur, sad as tears roll hot down your cheeks. “Do you think I can have some ice cream after?” It feels like the least he can do. “Course my heart, you can have the biggest bowl ever.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

soft launching clark kent

[inkdrinkerworld]

Does anyone have ANY Clark Kent requests??? I’m so down bad for this man I’ve started writing my bodyguard Clark again but I need some ideas desperately

[pearlfoam]

when he kisses your puffy pussy so sweetly and says a little breathlessly “my poor baby” as if he wasn’t the one absolutely pounding you into the next week

[inkdrinkerworld]

ohhhhhhhhh 3 times is too many times to throw up

it’s been so horrid, i’m so over it honestly. nothing ive taken has helped and my gp can’t see me till the weekend 🙃

[inkdrinkerworld]

Another day, another fucking rager of a migraine that’s now made me throw up three times 🙂

[inkdrinkerworld]

Clark’s been upset with you for the last hour and has taken to staring at you as you eat the pho he’d brought home with him. 

“I’m really sorry, Clark.” You say quietly as you start your bowl. He stands and walks to your fridge, when he comes back it’s with your brand new bottle of insulin and your meter. 

He hasn’t said anything since he brought the bottle and your dinner home. Too worked up and too upset to say anything calmly. He rarely gets this upset with you, so it stings your heart when he doesn’t maintain eye contact with you. 

He lifts your shirt sleeve and kisses your arm before wiping it clean. 

“Deep breath,” he murmurs and you do. You know the drill, you’ve known the drill for years. When it’s clicked into place he finally gives you his full attention. 

“You scared me, angel.” His voice is so soft that you can’t help bursting into tears. 

“I’m really sorry Clark,” you sob, hiding your face in your palms. 

You hadn’t really even realised you’d been out of insulin till you’d been at work and then your meter failed and there wasn’t much else that could be done. 

You hadn’t had any insulin in your office fridge, and you hadn’t been paid to buy your new bottles or meter. 

By the time you made it home you’d been drinking water nonestop and your vision was so blurry your eyes just watered. By the time Clark made it to your house the first time, you were surrounded by water bottles and he’d smelt the sugar on your breath the second he’d made it close enough to you and his heart had pummeled when he’d tested your blood and found you at the low end of 300. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“It’s not worth the hassle,” you’d responded and that had been when he’d walked out. 

There might have been a misuse of the Superman costume and name, but by the time he’d gotten your insulin and made you eat the meat from the pho first and then have the broth. 

Now it’ll come down and you’ll be right as rain. 

“Honey girl,” he scoops you up, your head on his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have been so upset with you.” He murmurs as your cries worsen. 

“I should’ve messaged about my insulin,” you hiccup. “You were right, that’s important.” 

He doesn’t say much, just rubs your back as you cry and your shoulders shake. 

When you calm down some, he pulls you out of the book you’ve made for yourself in his neck. 

“It is important, you being healthy is so important to me, angel. I understand that it’s hard for you to ask for help, but I want you to tell me what you need, not just what you think is okay to ask for okay?” 

He tips your chin back, looks you in the eye and says, “I want you to ask things of me. I want to do everything you ask, and I want to get you things you need and want. Please don’t think that you’re not worth the hassle again.” 

You nod, eyes bloodshot and you’re exhausted now for a bunch of different reasons. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper, eyes shutting slowly. “I’m really sorry I scared you and that I said that. Wasn’t fair at all.” 

Clark tuts and kisses your forehead, “It’s all forgiven, honey girl. Do you think you can manage another forkful of my beef and broccoli?” 

You manage it for him, because you both sort of know you’re full up. But you’d do anything to not have to see Clark look at you like you’d ripped his heart out again. 

an: based off the tweet post I shared a couple hours ago

[inkdrinkerworld]

Clark Kent???

[inkdrinkerworld]

summerween is here bitches (affectionately) omg I love this time of year! I’m gonna start binge reading a BUNCH of summer slasher books and watching a bunch of old horrors hehehe

[inkdrinkerworld]

migraine comfort

“Honey girl?” Clark’s voice is quiet as he shuts the door and notices all the lights are off in your living room. 

Sure it’s late, but you usually have your lamps on to set the evening mood. 

He gets no answer and starts listening for your heartbeat. It’s not a habit he indulges in often, but this is strange. 

He hears it and finds you curled up in bed, lights off, air conditioning blasting and a patch over your face. 

Immediately he knows what it is. 

You’d been getting migraines more and more often lately and no matter how much you ate, what medicine you took or how much you limited bright 

lights, it only seemed to worsen. 

Clark had looked for a tumor after the third night, even though you insisted that this just happens sometimes. 

He doesn’t make any noise as he reaches you on the bed, his hand smoothing your hair back and taking the mask off. 

It’s all melted now, and as he’s about to leave to get your other one, you stir. 

“Clark?” Your voice is a gravelly whisper, and as you try to raise your head you hiss. 

He’s back at your side instantly, “Lay down baby,” he murmurs, helping you lay your head back on the cool pillow. “M’just gonna get your other ice patch.” 

You hum, making him frown. Any sound you make sends another pulse through your head and Clark can feel the distress rolling off you. 

You think you fall asleep because you flinch when Clark puts the cold ice pack on your face. 

“Have you eaten?” He whispers, rubbing up and down your back as you try to relax. 

“Yeah, had toast and chicken salad.” The words come out slowly as you turn to lay flat on your back so you can at least face Clark. 

He tuts, but lets you move till your palm cups his cheek. “Good girl,” he presses a kiss to your palm. “Wanna go back to sleep?” 

“I wanna spend time with you.” Your voice goes watery immediately. You don’t mean for your voice to tremble like that, and you didn’t realize how much you’d actually missed just existing with him till you said the words.  “I haven’t spent time with you in days, Clark.” Your voice cracks on his name and Clark feels it in his heart. 

He shushes you, lips to your cheeks as the tears squeeze down your face. He’s gentle as he thumbs the tears away, and then as he turns so he’s laying next to you and tucks you into him without shifting your head. 

“We’re spending time with each other right now,” he whispers, trying his best not to make you cry. “Honey girl,” he murmurs when you cry harder, no doubt making your migraine worse. “You’re breaking my heart, angel.” 

“I just wanna do fun things with you again.” You hiccup and Clark sighs. 

“We’ll do fun things when you give yourself some rest, baby. You need rest to help with the migraine and I’m calling us out of work tomorrow. You can’t keep going to work with this.” 

You nod and take a deep breath, rubbing your face into his chest. “I really want it to go away.” You press a kiss to his chest and Clark cups the back of your head, squeezing at the base of your neck. It had you relaxing instantly. 

“I’m right here all night,” he kisses your head, “Let’s get some rest, okay?” You nod again, letting Clark’s fingers tug at your hair and squeeze at your neck to alleviate the pain in your head. 

“I love you Clark, I really do.” You’re starting to sound a lot more relaxed than before. 

“I really love you, honey girl.” You’re asleep in minutes, the headache still throbbing from what Clark can tell, but hopefully with the massage and rest, you’ll be right as rain in the morning.