[softly]: it’ll pass.

nova. writer. askbox open! pfp from museodesam

[novatheory]

˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ | novatheory. you can call me nova! twenty-nine years old. she/her. just a silly girl who has been on tumblr since her formative years. big fan of being a fan. sometimes a writer.

— writing tag | pinterest | masterlist | guidelines | ao3

𖥔 recents 𖥔

𖥔 june scribbles event | multi 𖥔 here is my hand | loki laufeyson waiting room | loki laufeyson late night talkin'! | frank langdon

[novatheory]

teenage dream by katy perry is logan howlett coded to me. i will not be elaborating at this time. but soon.

[novatheory]

jonathan crane (dc) | masterlist -> pinterest | writing tag | main list

— enigmatic.

[butterflypeaflowertea]

it’s so nice being fond of people on here :-) like yeah maybe we only know each other in a very limited way but i care abt you guys & hearing abt your lives makes me happy & i like listening to the things u have to say & i really truly wish the best for you all!!! sending my love from a couple states, countries, oceans away

[novatheory]

— june jukebox scribbles

| event | ao3 | writing tag |

♪ ༘⋆ masterlist for the June Scribbles Event hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles!— this masterlist is hopeful - i may miss a day, or may switch up the character(s) depending on the prompt! — if there's a date with an [open] underneath it, please feel free to send me an ask to make a request! — characters with (numbers) next to their names indicates that the drabbles are a part of a small series. — masterlist currently includes: marvel, DC, avatar: the last airbender, the pitt. updated: june 3, 2026

♫｡ June 1st - “I never understood a single word he said." — Wade Wilson (one) -> HERE ♫｡ June 2nd - “No, I can't promise that I won't do that." — Clark Kent ♫｡ June 3rd - “And he shows them pearly white." — Jonathan Crane -> HERE ♫｡ June 4th - “But I'm having such a good time." — Frank Langdon (one) ♫｡ June 5th - “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine." — [open] ♫｡ June 6th - “I don't think I caught your name." — Frank Langdon (two) ♫｡ June 7th - "I know you like what you see." — Jack Abbot ♫｡ June 8th - “I feel a premonition." — Wade Wilson (two) ♫｡ June 9th - “Call me at six on the dot.” — Stephen Strange ♫｡ June 10th - “Every night's another reason why I left it all." — [open] ♫｡ June 11th - “Tell you a story." — Logan Howlett ♫｡ June 12th - “I cannot stand the way you tease." — [open] ♫｡ June 13th - “Only those in love could know." — Zuko ♫｡ June 14th - “'Till you die?” — [open] ♫｡ June 15th - “Well, then I hope there's someone out there.” — Bruce Wayne ♫｡ June 16th - “Every smile you fake." — Clark Kent ♫｡ June 17th - "It was over my head." — [open] ♫｡ June 18th - "What's the matter with you?" — [open] ♫｡ June 19th - “You can choose to let it go." — [open] ♫｡ June 20th - “Who do you thank when you have such luck?” — Loki [MCU] ♫｡ June 21st - “I can't control myself.” — [open] ♫｡ June 22nd - “Because maybe." — [open] ♫｡ June 23rd - “A smell of wine and cheap perfume.” — [open] ♫｡ June 24th - “No, I couldn't ask for another." — Stephen Strange ♫｡ June 25th - “I hate to do this, you leave no choice." — [open] ♫｡ June 26th - “There's nothing I can do." — [open] ♫｡ June 27th - “That's where we always meet." — Loki ♫｡ June 28th - "If I get too close." — Frank Langdon (three) ♫｡ June 29th - "But it's just the price I pay.” — Wade Wilson (three) ♫｡ June 30th - “I know what you're thinkin'." — Logan Howlett

[kryptidfiles]

Safe Sex

Pairing: David!Clark Kent x villain/anti-hero!Reader | wc 450 Summary: Your cat-and-mouse game with Superman comes to a head. Day 2 of June Jukebox Scribbles Event Tags: smutty, 18+, MDNI, close proximity, foreplay (m + f receiving), breast play, teasing, brief unprotected p in v

sorry I'm rusty and still recovering! any mistakes? you didn't see them!

event masterlist

You almost ghosted Metropolist with the rare Lunar Tear glinting between your fingers, intending to tuck it into the daring plunge of your catsuit, if only the vault’s failsafe hadn’t slammed home with a bone-deep snap.

That was who-knows-how long ago. Time warped under the crimson strobe.

Each pulse sculpted Superman beside you, etching every plane you’ve memorized on moonlit rooftops and rain-slick alley walls, where breathless pauses and sermons of "reform" always melted into desperate touches that stopped just shy of everything, leaving you both shaking and frustrated.

Months of pursuit taught you Big Blue's cadence: catch, kiss, release, repeat. Tonight, that rhythm fractured.

"I know you could peel this door like foil, baby," you gasped breathlessly, nails clawing into his cape while his thick thigh rides the soak-seam of your suit, sending sparks of pleasure through your clit. "G-get both of us out."

He answered with touch: large fingers capture your wrist with disarming gentleness, his thumb sweeping tenderly along your lifeline until the hefty slipped from your grasp and clinked forgotten between your feet.

Summer blue eyes, dark with storming desire, held your gaze.

"Not until you give it up," he rasped, palm skimming from waist to ass, grinding you harder onto the meat of his thigh.

The other finally drags with your zipper south, exposing the swell of your breasts. Rough fingertips brushed your stiff nipples, pinching lightly and drawing needy whimpers from your throat that ricochet off steel. "No more games, yeah?"

"Try harder, Big Blue," you teased back, arching into his touch with doubled enthusiasm. Your teeth nipped his jaw, tongue soothing the barely-there mark. "Isn’t playing cop to my robber a thrill?"

His groan answered for him, vibrating through your chest. One hand settles on your ass, squeezing, drawing you impossibly flush; fabric sparks against fabric, nipples pebbling as his cock twitches against your stomach. Zippers descended lower, belts clattered, all revealing flashes of tantalizing skin.

You quickly sank to your knees, tongue tracing the sculpted groove of his abs before freeing him with practiced flicks. He’s heavy, jerking when your mouth envelopes the crown. His head thuds back against the door; your name escapes from his throat like prayer while you hollowed your cheeks, stroking the thick length and savoring the shudder rolling down his frame.

"Good God— sweetheart—" The plea broke as you pulled off with a wet pop, licking a slow stripe up the underside.

"P-promise me you’ll behave,” he tried again. "Walk away clean otherwise," he panted hotly against your ear, fingers finally slipping between your slick folds to thrust two thick digits deep inside. "No more thefts."

"No, I can't promise that I won't do that," you moaned, words spilling out shakily as pleasure coiled tighter. "B-but I’ll make it— worth your while if — if you let me keep— playing bad, baby—"

Superman's control snapped once again.

His eager mouth claimed yours in a ruinous kiss, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with the blunt head of his cock, nudging and pushing into your dripping heat, and finally, finally, filled you.

"Kal—!" You clenched around him, lost in raw surrender.

All the while, the Lunar Tear lies ignored, winking with each crimson flash while you and you and Big Blue burn hotter, brighter than any jewel this vault could ever guard.

.

[novatheory]

genuinely my goal is to answer my requests + finish june scribbles before i start my clinical rotation at the end of the month. for the all of july i'll mostly be on hiatus again, but after that, i'd really like to dig into some of the bigger writing pieces i've got floating around

[novatheory]

hi novaaa! how do you think loki would react if reader asked him to go to the doctor with them? maybe just for a checkup but some emotional support is needed..🐍

waiting room. loki x reader.

Tag(s)/warning(s): Vague mention of doctor's appointment for a physical exam, reader wants to be #independent, small mention of house lore and having its own feelings, no use of y/n, no use of gendered pronouns for reader, implied relationship, use of terms of endearment, ask to tag <3 || wc: 780 — I certainly do have thoughts!! I hope you don't mind that I took a little liberty with the question. Hope you're well 🐍 anon! <3

Today's date stares back at you, the bright ink clashing against the plain white paper in your planner. Underlined and circled:

doctor's appt.!!

Not for anything serious, thankfully. Just a yearly physical that you felt annoyingly obligated to keep. Your doctor, all things considered, was nice.

Sadly, not a level of niceness that could completely absolve the fluorescent lights in the waiting room, or the truly unknown waiting time, or the awkward conversation about how and what your body was doing.

A necessary evil, you suppose as you change into a more comfortable set of clothes for the appointment.

You double check the contents of your pockets, making sure you have what you need for the trip. Phone, wallet, keys. A practical checklist that eased your mind some as you headed out the front door.

The lock clicks in place easily, and you feel a hum of happy energy that you believe is the house saying that it will stay protected while you're gone. It's a feeling you haven't gotten used to yet, and you wonder if that's something that the doctor will be able to see if they order a scan.

A connection to your house.

Your connection to Loki.

With a sigh, you remember that you haven't mentioned this appointment to Loki.

Not for any malicious reason. As you sit in the waiting room alone, you know that you would've preferred to have him nearby. Unfortunately, as the date drew closer, you found yourself thinking about how you're a strong, independent adult who's made it this long in life without needing someone. What's one more appointment?

You tell yourself that it'll be fine.

The analog clock ticks on in the waiting room. It's empty, except for you, making the sound seem larger than what it really is.

It's just ten more minutes.

You open your phone, swiping for a mindless app that can help you pass the time until your name would hopefully be called.

It is not lost on you that you think about calling Loki, just to know what he's doing. To hear his voice.

Since that would cancel the whole independence thing that you've built up, you decide against it. You focus on the phone, a simple puzzle game, occasionally glancing at the time in the corner of the screen.

Clearing the newest level, you hear the ding of the bell over the front door of the office. It’s mostly meant to alert the receptionist, but your head picks up to look, too. 

Very suddenly, you feel like a kid doing something they’re not supposed to be doing. Standing at the threshold of your - very normal, mind you - doctor’s office is the tall, dark form of Loki. 

He looks very at ease. Simple black pants and dark shirt, his hair behind his ears. It’s gotten longer, you think, probably due for a trim for the summer— 

You sink a little lower in your chair. This was supposed to be a solo mission, not an opportunity to consider Loki’s looks. 

Naturally, your reaction doesn’t phase him. He steps across the room, dropping himself in a chair next to you. 

“Hello, darling,” he says, lacing his fingers together and propping them against his sternum. He looks exactly like he’s determined to wait with you. 

“Hi, Loki,” you respond. You notice how despondent your tone sounds to your own ears and it makes you frown. 

Loki tsks, his torso twisting to face you. “I’ll leave if you want me to,” he says, finger raising to pause you when your mouth opens to protest, “But I would be remiss if I didn’t show up.” 

You feel a pang of earnest guilt. It’s different, feeling like you were looking through muddy water—and you realize that it’s not yours. 

It’s Loki’s, pulled through across whatever force connected your emotions to his. 

“How did you know?” you ask, intentionally to avoid the way the realization made you feel.  

“Dear mortal, there is little about you that I am not privy to.”

“The house told you?”

“The house told me.”

“Snitch.”

Loki scoffs. “You have no idea,” he mutters. He pauses, something softer crossing his face. “So?” 

The banter made you forget about his question. Your brain remembers, and you blink. Easiness had slipped so stealthily into your body, you hadn’t imagined that it’d go away. 

“Stay?” You answer. You mean for it to come out firmer, not like a question. 

Loki doesn’t tease you for it. He hums a quiet affirmation, finally settling into waiting chair that you knew wasn’t comfortable. 

Minutes after your appointment time slowly drag on, but when your palm finally slides into his, waiting feels only mildly inconvenient. 

[novatheory]

june 12th could be Loki of its still open🤞

“I cannot stand the way you tease."

hehehe okay i see you. i'll add it to the list!!

june event prompt list - if there's an [open] next to a date, feel free to make a request! i'll do my best.

[novatheory]

— enigmatic.

Characters: Jonathan Crane, Reader Word Count: 300 Now Playing: Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin / “And he shows them pearly white” Tags/warnings: idk vampires?, student/teacher implications if you squint at it, no use of y/n, no reader pronouns, otherwise ask to tag! <-Rewind || Event Masterlist || Skip ->

Doctor Crane is strange.

Good or bad—you haven’t decided yet. You remind yourself, often, that it doesn’t matter. 

The professor that you have during your Thursday afternoon class block. 

That’s all. 

Still. 

You find yourself wondering as you work through a stack of study guides, trying to pick out what it was that’s so remarkable. 

You linger after class, watching Doctor Crane collect his belongings after lecture. If students tried to approach him, he redirected them to email. 

Occasionally, you hover outside of his office door. Wonder if it’s worth finding an excuse to knock. Wonder what it even is that you’re trying to prove.

Jonathan Crane is an enigma to you. 

Someone that shouldn’t be interesting. 

Just a professor. 

Half of a semester passes and you still wonder, trying to piece together a puzzle that you don’t have a picture for. 

It's just a feeling. 

Sitting in his class, you listen as Doctor Crane explains the expectations for the upcoming midterm exams. 

Then it catches your eye—the glaring flash of white. 

You squint, looking closer. Another student’s question makes Doctor Crane chuckle, and you catch it. 

The curl of his lip, exposing the point of his canines and how he shows them pearly white. 

Your breath catches, and you recover by quickly ducking your head down, pretending to take notes. 

Adults don’t believe in vampires because vampires are not real. 

Ridiculous. 

Doctor Crane dismisses class on time. 

Instead of lingering, you shove your notebook into your backpack, eager to leave the classroom and get a grip on reality again. 

You make it halfway across the quad when you hear the tone that alerts you of a college email. Grabbing your phone, you unlock the screen to see the notification:

From: [email protected] Subject: Suggestion For Academic Meeting

[infcdele-a-deactivated20220411]

Hey, Hey, L I S T E N

here, on this blog, you do not need permission to slip into my asks. just do it. even if we haven’t interacted before. even if you’ve sent 10 already. send me more. i love getting asks (in character or out of character) and yeah, i’m slow as fuck, but i promise you i will get to them. have at it, fill my inbox with memes or impromptu starters or just tell me how your day is going. it really doesn’t matter. just go ahead and do it. i promise, i don’t get annoyed seeing the same people in my inbox, actually it makes me happy because yAY MORE INTERACTIONS. so just do it.

[novatheory]

guys i’m gonna do it. i’m gonna watch 2025 superman. rn.

[novatheory]

actually! the hbo max app is booty! so i'm going to start daredevil. but clark kent i will be coming back for you.

[novatheory]

i would like to mention again that i've got a discord channel!! we yap and occasionally talk about story ideas. i'll privately share the invite to anyone who's interested :)

[novatheory]

⌁ color tag game 🖌⌁

tysm for the tag @kryptidfiles! <3

Rules: Go on pinterest and type in the prompts down below. Whatever image pops up first is your image. Prompts: Color, quote, character, hobby, accessory, song lyrics, flower.

no pressure tags: you. who are reading this. do it. and tag me in it. <3

[novatheory]

guys i’m gonna do it. i’m gonna watch 2025 superman. rn.

[whirlybirbs]

                    VACANT MIRRORS    ;    MASTERPOST  

                                          PINTEREST    |     AO3     |    SPOTIFY

       shit’s been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes. set before tfatws; a friends-to-lovers, slowburn, eventual smut.

—   CHAPTERS   /   completed!

1.      I LANDED ON YOU LIKE A SUCKER PUNCH

2.      BUT I’VE HAD WORSE NIGHTMARES

3.     SO I’LL BE PLUGGED IN & TUNED OUT

4.     WHILE YOU & I RIDE INTO THE SUN 

5.     PLATONICALLY SO, OF COURSE

6.    GO AHEAD & PLUCK MY HEARTSTRINGS 

7.     TOGETHER WE’RE LOVERS ON THE LAM

8.     SPIRALING TOWARDS THE STORM

9.     KISSING IN THE AFTERMATH

10.   TO THE TEMPO OF YOUR HEARTBEAT.

—   DRABBLES & ONE-SHOTS

1.    ALL BLACK

—   OTHER

1.   dolly’s jukebox, an audio imagine

2.   the vacant mirrors tag

3.   readers make their rabbit!

4.   fan art & memes

5.   the glass cannon’s club set list

                                                    — birbs                            

[snoopysupe]

read ur clark fic about him listening to ur voicemails on his breaks and thinking about reader also being obsessed with him and having a whole collection of little videos he'd made on a tape recorder that she watches while getting ready/staying in....OR EVEN her having a little record collection of all his favorite songs to listen to at night when he's away on missions....KOOLIE IM GOING INSANE PLEASE i need to yap sm about the dynamic of obsessed x obsessed :D

HI, HONEY — Clark Kent

pairing: clark kent / wife!reader. word count: 2.1k context: fluff. established relationship. obsessed x obsessed. clark makes tapes for r whilst he is away. (1) song reference. kind of linked to this fic

clark kent masterlist

“Is that Mister Terrific?”

You peered over the cubicle in the office you were sat in to look in the direction of the large glass doors that led out onto a balcony. It was a rather mundane and repetitive office job that had you concealed in a box, packed like sardines with one hundred other people, at least. You had snagged the spot of employment since you hauled yourself from the safe space of Smallville, Kansas, to the city of Metropolis; where the buildings were taller than the sky.

The giant move from the humid air of Smallville to the polluted one of Metropolis was down to the lark of your heart: Clark Joseph Kent.

It seemed his absence in his hometown felt more like an immovable object than something you could roll with whenever he upped and left to return to the city. And, after a three week turn around in your friendship-gone-relationship, you began to realise that the motto of ‘home is where the heart is’ meant that home didn’t necessarily mean a place, or building you had grown up in. It was a person.

So, you followed Clark Kent to Metropolis and within two years you had been married in Spring and nestled in a one bedroom apartment in the heart of the city.

(There was no way that you could be convinced to stay in the Fortress of Solitude.)

Being married to Clark Kent, meant you were married to Superman. The protector of Metropolis—despite what some of the public would say—and the man that tried his best to make things right. To make things good. So, from time to time, when the metaphorical sand began to tip into the bad end of the hourglass sand timer; Clark would have to uproot himself and leave on short notice.

Which led you to that very moment, with Mister Terrific hovering outside your building with a stoic expression as he awaited action.

Everyone had begun to shift in their seats, low chatter that a member of the Justice League—no, Justice Gang? You weren’t sure—was loitering out a skyscraper for no apparent reason.

That’s when heads began to turn to you. You were more on the confrontational side, to the people you worked with anyway. And, that meant they were looking to you to resolve the new addition to the scenic views from the nineteenth floor of the skyscraper you all worked in.

What your co-workers hadn’t realised was, they had put you in the position you always intended to be. You knew why Mister Terrific was there, but they didn’t have to know.

If anything, you were just going to ask him to leave the premise and go ask the Mayor to fill in some potholes.

You stood with little need for encouragement and walked over to the glass doors, quick to open and shut it behind you so the eavesdroppers of the workplace wouldn’t be able to hear anything but a muffled exchange of pleasantries.

“Do you need to appear like this?” You turned to Mister Terrific and crossed your arms.

He shrugged. “You want the USB?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then, I’ll keep turning up this way.” Mister Terrific responded nonchalantly and made enough discreet movement that the USB you required reached your hand with minimal theatrics that would raise questions later.

You gave him a curt nod and a smile you reserved for people you didn’t really know well. “Thank you…Is—Is he OK?”

Mister Terrific blinked and it was at that point that you almost missed the small nod he gave you before his finger gestured to the USB tucked into the palm of your hand, “Check that and you’ll know.”

He then left without another word and you went back inside the building with multiple voices calling over their own cubicles, curious as to what the member of the Justice League needed. You responded by waving off their questions with reassurance that he was just doing the rounds of the skyscrapers to ensure all citizens were safe, before snatching your laptop from your desk, scurrying off to the bathroom for some privacy.

The cubicle door slammed shut and you sat with your knees pressed together atop of the toilet with a sense of newfound giddiness. With one earphone pushed into your ear, you opened up your laptop and plugged the USB into the side of it.

A file popped up in the middle of your screen.

HONEY FILES.

(How incredibly cliche of your husband. You’d prod fun at him upon his return.)

Without another second wasted, you opened the file up to see a short list of videos dated from the first day Clark had to leave for Jarhanpur.

You bit down on your fingernails as you clicked the first file in the chronological order that had been made.

“Hi, honey.” Clark’s voice was heard before you could see him. The camera wobbled around until his face appeared. He wore a smile that wasn’t as genuine as the one on your wedding day. He exhaled deeply, “Just as I promised. A video for you to keep you updated. I’m not sure when it’ll get back to you, but I finally got Mister Terrific to agree to delivering it after some silly bickering—”

You muffled the small laugh that escaped your lips behind the palm of your hand. The idea that Clark had spent his energy on convincing Mister Terrific to deliver a USB to his wife back in Metropolis was amusing in itself.

You would store that mental image whenever you needed a little laugh.

Clark continued in the video, “I miss you already, and it’s only been…” He mulled the calculations over, “At least six hours. I guess that’s when you know we were destined to be together.”

(He was right.)

“I’m sorry our honeymoon plans got postponed. Well, part of me isn’t sorry, because the people of Jarhanpur need help. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the honeymoon entirely with that thought in the back of my head…Anyway, here—” Clark jostled with the camera to show his Superman garb. He patted the space just below where his heart would be, “Ma sewed in a pocket, just here, so I could have my wedding ring on me at all times. She’s a hopeless romantic, I suppose. Oh, and also,” The camera swished about for a moment as Clark removed one red boot from his foot, “I have my favourite photo of you in my boot. I hope you don’t mind getting stepped on for the time being.”

His shoddy camera work made you feel a little dizzy as he brought it back to focus on his handsome face. He gave a shy smile to the camera and you could practically see the cogs turning in his head.

“I’ll be leaving here in a moment. I hope work isn’t too bad, and Mark minds his business.” He sniffed, “I love you. Bye.”

Click. The screen went black.

The rest of the videos taunted you to open just one more. Something about it felt like catnip to you. Addictive, sent your heart soaring at the sight of your husband. But, alas, you decided that your gluttony for Clark Kent could wait until you clocked out of work…or whenever you could take intermittent bathroom breaks without question as to why you had to take your laptop every time.

Laptop tucked beneath your armpit, you sauntered out of the toilet with your chin tilted upward to evade any worry of suspicious onlookers.

“You were in there for ten minutes.” Mark—the guy who refused to bite his tongue—called out to you as you reached your office cubicle.

You glared at him. “Did you want to fish out the tampon for me, Mark?”

“No.” Mark said quietly, his face aflame.

After that, your willpower prevailed and you managed to withhold any further trips to the bathroom to lap up the videos Clark had recorded for you. With your bag packed before the clock struck 5PM, you raced out of the building. Not missing the small ache in your chest that Clark wasn’t leant up against a column in the lobby of your workplace, ready to take your bag with a smile and a quick kiss.

The trip back to the apartment went slower than necessary, with one train cancelled and the elevator up to your apartment out of service. It was as if fate was purposely toying with you.

Curtains drawn and one pack of instant noodles thrown into a bowl, you slumped into your sofa after connecting your laptop to the TV so you could watch Clark on a bigger screen; you clicked onto the second video with baited breath.

“Hi, honey. It’s me.” Clark waved at the camera awkwardly, “Again. I just finished my first video to you and then realised I needed to remind you to take the food I had made you out of the freezer. Just so you don’t have to eat those cardboard tasting ramen noodles.”

You blinked at the TV, mouth packed with the noodles he was referring to.

“OK. I love you. Bye.”

Click.

You went to the next one below it.

Clark’s brows were furrowed in this one. He scratched at his temple before he spoke, “Hi, honey. Well, I stopped the military—illegal military—invasion of Jarhanpur. Hooray.” He scoffed, “I’m OK, no real injuries aside from the headache I have. I, uh…I spoke with the President of Boravia about going forward.”

You winced at that. Knowing your husband’s temper that flared from time to time, the likelihood of a simple conversation was minimal. It put a pit in your stomach for the outcome that would undoubtedly follow.

Fork stabbing at the noodles, you sighed as Clark continued to speak. “For what it is worth, I’m glad I stepped in. I think the U.S. Government will have something else to say. People were going to die, right honey? This is what I was sent here to do.”

“Well, I love you. It’s been—what—seventy-two hours now since we’ve been apart?” He looked desperate to return to you, “Seventy-two hours too long. Seventy-two kisses to give you when I get back. Plus however many more. OK, I’m going. Bye, honey.”

Click.

You suddenly felt the same absence you felt when Clark left Smallville for the final time without you. An empty hollow in your chest that, seemingly, was Clark Kent shaped.

They told you marriage would be hard. You had presumed they meant it took work to make things last. Not that it would be almost impossible to be without him.

You finished up your noodles, dissatisfied with the taste—as predicted by Clark—and leant over the bundle of blankets to click the last video Clark had made for you.

This time, instead of the camera panning to Clark’s face, it was the scenic view of the Kent Farm at sunset.

Your breath hitched.

“Hi, honey. It’s me. Obviously.” Clark mumbled as he moved the camera across the horizon, “I stopped by Ma and Pa’s on the way back. I know you miss this, so I thought, why not capture it? If you close your eyes, you can pretend you’re here with the ambient sound of those gosh darn cicadas.” He chuckled behind the camera, “We had our first kiss over there, remember?” His finger came to point out to the lake, “And, over here—” He turned the camera to the front of the Kent’s house, where Ma and Pa waved in the distance, “Are Ma and Pa. They miss you, but not as much as me.”

The camera then pointed to Clark who wore a warm, reminiscent smile, “Thank you for giving this up for me. You’re braver than you know.” You openly laughed at that statement. As if he hadn’t jetted to Jarhanpur to put himself between a military invasion and innocent citizens. He continued, “I made a wish list of sorts on the fly over to Smallville. Some of it already completed, like marrying you. Maybe, if we would like, a couple of kids that all look like you. The world will leave us alone when it happens. We can even come back to the Kent Farm, build a house. You deserve to get what you want.”

Your vision blurred at his topic of conversation. Clark was always one for articulated speeches, and this one had caught you off guard.

His blue eyes softened at the thought of the domesticity of it all, “I just want you. Wherever you want to be, I’ll be there.” Clark swallowed and nodded, “I’ll see you soon. I love you. Bye.”

Click.