Hii! Can you pretty please write Clark Kent x reader who always misses meals from being either busy or not wanting to get out of bed to make smth. Ik he’d be so upset when he first noticed that your first meal of the day is always late like 3 pm. So he makes meals and makes sure you eat!
Clark was aware that work wore you down like an anvil that you couldn’t quite move from upon you. This tended to cause an overlap—more like an imbalance—between your work and home life and catalyzed your bad habits of neglect towards yourself and depriving yourself of your needs. He came to find this out the hard way, one way or the other, when your groceries would go bad in the allotted time between buying them and their extensive due dates. Vegetables sat there untouched in their sad little crisper and uncracked eggs lay bare in their carton. Even when you did have the rare vacancy of time in your hands to spare to cook for yourself, you found it was much more satisfying to rest, laying idly in your bed and letting your hunger be consumed by a deep slumber or scrolling away on your phone. There was something so energy-consuming about having to get up and actually make yourself something. You figured it was never that serious anyways. When the hunger finally began to rumble and ache within you in your tiredness or laziness, you had packaged snacks available to you or whatever else was stocked in your pantry.
Clark winced when you broke into a bag of chips, absentmindedly munching away at them. It made him uneasy, the principle of choosing a bag of chips over a hearty meal when he was well…unsure whether or not he’d even seen you eat much else earlier that day. “Sweetheart, do you have any idea how processed those are? What else have you had to eat today?” He earnestly asked, already half-expecting your answer.
“Oh, Clark. Always the health nut. It’s fine,” you defend, dodging his question.
“Sweetie, it’s not fine. Look, I didn’t want to push it on you, but I know you hardly eat. Your groceries go bad quickly and even when you do make yourself something, it just sits in the fridge. I used to think you’d at least pick up something to eat after work but I know how long it takes you to commute from work and you come back too quickly after work to have stopped somewhere. You’re home at exactly the time it takes you to come to and from work. And then after you’ve showered and napped after work you’ve broken into something from the pantry.”
“Clark? You really noticed all that?” You feel embarrassed now, snacking away, unbeknownst to you that Clark was privy to your bad habits.
“Yeah, of course I did. Now can you actually eat something now that I have you here in the kitchen before you knock out or go back to bed to all that scrolling nonsense? Can I make you something?”
You almost want to snort at how unreasonably paternal he sounds right now. But you don’t want him to think you’re making fun, and truthfully, it warms your heart how much he cares, how much he notices. At the same time, you don’t want him to worry, to exert much more spent effort into you than he already has. You hesitate.
“Clark, I love you and I appreciate it. I promise, I’m fine,” you say firmly and fold the back bag up to reseal it with a clip before shutting the pantry door.
“But sweetie—,”
“Clark, I’m going to bed. We can talk about this some other time when my head isn’t pounding thinking about working all over again in the morning.” You yawn and say with a tone of finality.
Clark feels an overwhelming sense of guilt to not have connected the dots earlier. He was unsure for long you had this wayward routine of doing things, that you only really seemed to eat whole meals in his presence, in your shared togetherness, one hand holding a utensil and the other nursing yours while you talked thoroughly about your day and whatever was ailing your mind. Of course he’d never mind taking care of you, but he wished you took it upon yourself to take care of yourself. He was overridden with a pang of worry for you at the thought. He just had to be the one to abet you in the right direction, astray from this path of neglect and hunger—intentional or not.
It started small. Little packaged meals in containers, simple things so you’d feel less bad about full-fledged intricately-made five course meals, but still something well-crafted and made with love to show that he cared. Monday it’d be a pasta, Tuesday tilapia, Wednesday wraps filled with your favorite dressings and protein, with rice and vegetables, Thursdays burrito bowls, each fixing neatly separated in their respective compartments within the tupperware; rice, beans, protein and condiments, and on Friday, a sandwich that closely resembled your go-to order at a deli stop that you and Clark discovered on one of your first casual dates. Each container with a little note. “For my favorite person,” “Enjoy, Sweetheart,” “Made your favorite,” “Hope you like this,” and “Thinking of you, always.” He’d even stocked a snack box each day, with a different fruit, vegetable, cheese, and cracker in a compartment, stuffed to its brim. Sweet as it was, you felt bad that each time you opened the fridge now, you expected something, and Clark never failed to deliver. You finally thought to mention it to him that day, while he was sweeping away at the tiled floor of the kitchen.
“Clark, what’s with the lunches and snacks?” you demanded with a quirked brow, a hand on your hip. Not accusatory, but curious, though you awfully looked that way.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetie,” he whistled to himself, only looking down at the floor he was brushing away at.
“Uh-huh,” you replied, unconvinced.
He turned away allegedly to sweep back the floor he missed, only to smile at the ground when he wasn’t facing you.
Saturday, you’d worked overtime. When you came back, a hot dish of your favorite meal awaited you, along with your favorite drink poured into a wine glass, a neatly folded napkin and cutlery placed on either side of the plate. The sight made you gasp. A note folded up into a tent read with neat handwriting, “Sweetheart, you deserve all this and more.” You dropped your belongings and keys off onto the counter and rushed to the bedroom, only to find Clark fast asleep. You smiled down at him from within the doorframe, then reluctantly ate alone. Truth be told, Clark preferred the element of surprise rather than waiting up on you to see it. He wanted you to know he didn’t expect anything, not praise or any service in exchange for his goodness and special care for you. He knew in his heart you appreciated it.
Clark awoke early the next morning to cook something up for you the way he had been. His large arms outstretched above his head before he looked down to see you steadfast in slumber. He smiled, wishing he could stay here like this with you the way he always did when he awoke. After a while of sitting and watching you he turned to leave the bed, and you nestled up in the warmth of blankets.
“Clark,” you murmured tiredly with a hand latched around his burly arm. Startled by the motion, he turned back to you then sat firmly in place.
“Yes, my love?”
You rubbed your eyes then sat up, groggy in your ministrations and fighting sleep. You yawned then finally cleared your throat, giving him your earnest attention.
“Honey, I love you and it means a lot to me, but you don’t have to cook for me. I’m grown,” you laughed, “And you’re waking up early just to do this. Taking the time out of your day. Real time you could be using to sleep or get ready for you to go to work.”
“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he said, reluctantly letting you finish. God knows he wanted to interrupt you somewhere around the middle and tell you that none of it mattered to him, nothing so long as he made sure you were taken care of. “Fifteen minutes a day is nothing to me, knowing that for the full day you’re being fed and nourished. I only feel bad that I didn’t notice you’d been doing this sooner. I’d much rather take that time than sit with the knowledge that I let you starve yourself—,”
“I don’t starve myself.”
He gives you a look.
“Let me do this for you,” he takes your hands in his. “Actually I’m not asking you. I’m telling you that I will do this for you, that I want to. I signed up for a lifetime with you, of caring for you. You work yourself down too much and even when you can make yourself something, I know you’re too tired to. I’ll keep doing this no matter how long it takes you to accept it,” he finished sternly, with a slow, gentle, kiss to the forehead. You look at him for a moment, marveling at him in the silence.
“Okay,” You say finally, but somewhat reluctantly.
“Okay?” He said, uncertain of your acceptance.
“Okay,” you repeat, groaning into a pillow next to you.
“Okay,” he says again, taking the pillow from your hand to discard it, then planting a kiss into your lips and smiling into it.
“Thank you for taking care of me like this,” you mean it and don’t fight further, resisting the need to insist to him he doesn’t have to. “I love you.”
He doesn’t need to say it back, you just know, when he takes your hand, still in his, kissing each one of your knuckles, finally planting one on the back of it delicately.
tyty for this request anon it felt very self-indulgent writing this bc i tend to do this constantly LOL. i tried my best to make this g/n and was fighting the urge to write “favorite girl” instead of “favorite person.” unfortunately it took me a little time to get to this request in between classes and editing my recent fic but hope u enjoy!
(holds out a very tiny microphone to u) who’s ur fav kh, why, + were they always ur fav? i love hearing the stories of who ppl get attached to + how it can change as new games come out :]
GRIPS THE MIC
I LOVE AQUA. I've loved her since the day she was introduced and I loved her even more after Kingdom hearts 3. Her arc is about hoping until the very very very last second and...well I don't want to spoil anything just in case. (I suppose everyone's story is about hope, but her's hit me different) I just love that her story certainly *has* pain, and she's allowed to have a human reaction to that pain, but it's not all she is. She's mature and gentle, but tough, too. The characterization got so nuanced towards the latter games. I appreciate it. ...Even if the series as a whole is convoluted. :,) Aqua and Terra and Ventus are my fave trio, too. They balance each other out really well.
hyper fem reader who loves everything cute doing this to clark to mark him up.......... (im squatting ur inbox i'm bored)
everyone sees her as like cute and soft and gentle and they think it's clark who is the Man of the relationship, yknow what i mean? like clearly she's too meek to be anything else. like, he's twice her size, twice her height... but NO! clark is at HER beck and call. he's just happy to be here for her even if he doesn't understand half the things she says (what the hell is a 24 carat labubu or a stanley cup or a my melody)
she's a menace and clark is a hostage but he's a very willing hostage who at night has to share the love of his life with her 10000 plushies
this doesn't make sense but anyway hi
i’m sorry my queen i’ve been lagging on keeping up with my inbox lately so i didn’t see this until just now forgive me!
oh this is adorable. i love me some bratty/bossy reader with a small frame and clark tolerating it all
cackled at the 24 carat labubu part oh i would so do this
and i love the idea of a size difference being 5’6” which i know isn’t tall but it’s a little above average for women and i am constantly surrounded by below average men lol which isn’t a bad thing but boy do i want to be towered over and i’m a big fan of the idea of him height-mogging me but still letting me be something the authority in the relationship LOL
always feel free to squat my inbox, soft 😉 i encourage u!
Hiiii! I just stumbled upon your fics of Superman and I just want to say that I’ve enjoyed them. It’s definitely satisfying all the David!Superman fluff that I need! Looking forward to more!
thank u so much! 🤍 i love a good fluff so writing them has been sm fun, truthfully i love angst more, i’m just not as good as writing it but i love the comfort that comes with reading angst with a happy ending
Hey! So I heard that you were a witch, I was just wondering what sort of practice you do.
- Layla
OH!! Layla!! What an honor :D
I'm a little out of practice at the moment, but I'm always working with tarot (for introspection mostly). One of these days when I have more room for a routine I'll get back into studying moon magic and tea magic. I like putting the *craft* in witchcraft, too, by making little things with intention!
forthright felicitations, fine found footage friend! a thought occurred to me while i was on the road thinking about spooky movies today: what's your take on the paranormal activity movies? they're not 100% found footage, andi know a lot of people think they're lame, but i enjoy them a lot and keep meaning to finally watch the ones that i haven't yet.
WOOHOO hello! I LOVE the Paranormal Acitivity series. I haven't watched them in ages, but I remember 1 - 3 being the best. 4 was okay. 5 was a mess. IMO. I actually really enjoyed the re...make? My fave part of the PA series is how creative they have to get with scares, and I do feel the re-quel did a fine job of finding some neat moments, so... a worthy addition. It's worth a watch if you like the series! Which ones have you seen?
(Also did you know Paranormal Activity now has a live stage production?)
