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blackreaderfics · 9 months

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Off the Record | Clark Kent x Black!Reader

↳ Pairing : MAWS Clark Kent x Rapper!Reader (You)

↳ Rating : M (18+)

↳ Summary : Clark knows Kryptonians don't experience sexual attraction in the same way humans do. One night, he figures out who exactly turns him on.

↳ W.C : ~1.2k

↳ Tags + Warnings : logicalnerd!clark, clark is a late bloomer kinda, kryptonian biology is weird i guess, allusions to asexuality, sexual awakening(?), pwp, masturbation, fantasizing, onlyfans lol, mentions of leaked sextape

Masturbation was healthy; that much Clark had already known from sex ed classes and Google searches. And though he knew from his research that most pubescent kids started jerking off in middle school, along with having erections, he had never in his 30 years of life experienced sexual attraction. Ever.

When kids in high school drooled over naked women posing on the covers of Playboys or Maxims, he still tried his best to act the part of "horny teenager". He had crushes in his teen years too, but he never actively sought out sex.

There was this one time when a girl he liked had tried to initiate sex, but he was honest to a fault and truthfully told her that he didn’t like her in that way. Needless to say, she’d gotten offended and never spoke to him again. Since then, he’d hidden that quirk about himself from every single one of his romantic partners without fail.

Don’t get him wrong, Clark has had sex before and from what he could tell, he was pretty good at it too. Just like with his studies, as long he understood the proper mechanics of the subject at hand, he could go above and beyond for any performance.

It was basic biology. Having an erection required a higher flow of blood towards his penis; which he could do himself pretty easily since he had amazing control over his body. That was the result of learning how to be Superman for the past few years. Because of his “training” he lasted long and the (very) few men and women he chose to bed loved him more for it.

There were still some things he thought he’d never understand the concept of, however. Like, how do Kryptonians procreate if he can’t seem to produce the semen to ejaculate? The white liquid he’d seen in porn as a teen was like a myth to him. Jor-El never mentioned that in the Fortress of Solitude. He wouldn't be finding any Kryptonian biological literature available to read at any Metropolis public library either. It wasn’t like he didn’t try, but after some (controlled) tests, he concluded that perhaps Kryptonians didn’t ejaculate and he was okay with that.

So when Clark felt a strange sensation in his pants one night when he saw you on TV, he immediately thought that he’d fallen ill. Which was strange for him because, well, he’d never gotten sick. But there you were, mesmerizing him as clips flashed on screen of you rapping while wearing a risqué outfit leaving nothing to the imagination. Suddenly everything felt too tight, too hot. He gulped, nervously pulling at the collar of his t-shirt, but a knot remained lodged in his throat.

The camera angles panned across your chocolatey skin and ample curves, cutting right at moments where it veered dangerously into porn instead of what it was supposed to be—a rap music video. Clark had seen porn before and full-on bare naked women anyway, but he’d never been affected like this before. So why now? And why you?

Once the music video ended, Clark snapped out of his trance, but it wasn’t long before the now rock-hard and throbbing situation in his pants urgently reminded him of more pressing matters.

He quickly powered on his computer to search your name and, not long after, pictures of you filled the screen. There was a never-ending stream of shots of you on the red carpet, you on stage, photoshoots, and pictures you’d uploaded yourself on social media.

Every time his eyes would linger on a photo of you in a suggestive position, i.e. licking a popsicle or pushing your breasts together, his cock would twitch against his zipper. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where his cock wanted to be right now and it was right at the back of your throat. He unbuckled his pants, letting his first-ever unassisted erection bob up and against his sweater-clad stomach.

He’d never fantasized about someone having his cock in their mouth until tonight. Sure, his partners had given him blowjobs before, but he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy them. Truthfully, it looked like it hurt when they couldn’t even take all of him in, and he never liked to be the reason anyone felt pain. Clark scrolled on.

You had a sex tape? His brow furrowed in disapproval though he could feel his face grow warm. He couldn’t pinpoint what exact emotion he was feeling right now. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t a positive one.

The page he had landed on showed a closeup of you, eyebrows knitted in ecstasy as someone (he didn’t want to know who) hovered behind, hands gripping your ass, already in the middle of ravishing you. The screenshot made the corners of his mouth tug down in a frown. He didn’t particularly like the idea of watching other people have sex at all. And he especially didn’t want to see some other guy “balls deep” inside you instead of him.

More importantly, it just wasn’t right. He’d seen reports that your tape had been leaked without your consent; by watching it he would be actively infringing on your sexual boundaries. That definitely wasn’t right either and though he desperately wanted to, he didn’t have the heart to press play.

Onlyfans? Clark's eyebrows quirked up in curiosity. He clicked on a link he’d found on your Instagram page and there you were; verified with pages of content ready to be unlocked. After a moment of thought, he concluded that this was the most ethical alternative; much better than masturbating to your pictures or your sex tape. This way you would be paid for your work, and he would gain implied consent as a customer. He felt much better about this as he clicked the blue purchase button.

His cock throbbed again when he finally saw you, full lips planting soft kisses onto a dildo, your large almond eyes heavy-lidded and boring into him with lust. That’s when Clark brought a hand to his cock and began to stroke. What was once a motion that was alien to him, felt more and more natural as he pumped, matching his strokes to your pace. Your image on screen bobbed your mouth up and down making lewd slurps and moans, purposefully throating the shaft to the hilt. Each brief moment you came up for air brought a mess of saliva with you.

Clark watched on, immersed, bucking his hips into his fist as he imagined he was the one making you make those vulgar sounds. But something in the back of his mind was disturbed. Was this what he, Clark Kent, liked or was it an innate biological desire he couldn’t control from a planet he never knew? He felt disconnected; outside his body until, not even a minute after he had started the video, a sensation he’d never felt before came over him. He groaned and tightened his grip as he felt himself release.

A warm sticky liquid had dripped down his cock and onto his hand. Clark grimaced down at the mess he’d made, breathing erratically until he finally calmed down. His cock twitched and the last of dregs of his cum spilled out from his reddened tip.

He'd made two major discoveries that night:

1. Kryptonians did ejaculate after all, and 2. When it came to you, he wouldn’t be able to last very long.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

#I have a part 2 idea for this ><#I want him to be assigned to interview rapper!reader lmao #i didnt mean for this to be kinda funny but it is #clark kent x black!reader #x black reader #black reader #clark kent smut #clark kent x reader #my adventures with superman #maws imagines #maws x reader #maws x you #brfwrites

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maudeboggins · 9 months

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The men Rita Hayworth would take to a desert island, 1941:

Robert Taylor, Brian Aherne, Cary Grant, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Clark Gable, Bing Crosby, John Carroll, Gary Cooper, George Sanders, W.C. Fields, and Edward Judson

#rita hayworth #but also her sweater here is so pretty

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josiepugblog · 4 months

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My extremely objectively correct media favorites for 2023:

Books

Fantasy

Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse

The Centre by Ayesha Manazir Siddiqi

Ink Blood Sister Scribe by Emma Torsz

The Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

Other Fiction

The September House by Carissa Orlando (horror, arguably fantasy)

The Winter Guest by W.C. Ryan (mystery/historical drama)

Kala by Colin Walsh (mystery)

The Wild Hunt by Emma Seckel (historical drama, arguably fantasy as well lolll)

August Blue by Deborah Levy (contemporary fiction (for once!))

Nonfiction

No Ordinary Assignment by Jane Ferguson

A Village in the Third Reich by Julia Boyd

The Nineties: A Book by Chuck Klosterman

The Russo-Ukrainian War by Serhii Plokhy

Nazi Culture by George L Mosse

Movies

Polite Society (action/comedy, dir. Nida Manzoor)

Rustin (historical drama, dir. Colman Domingo)

Saltburn (dark comedy, dir. Emerald Fennell)

Flora and Son (comedy/drama, dir. John Carney)

Past Lives (drama, dir. Celine Song)

The Bear

Slow Horses

Succession

Doctor Who (RTDv2)

Beef

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bimboficationblues · 1 year

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who are your favorite communist theoriticians?

I am fully an edwadist political-legal theorist. I will note that I haven't been reading much theory recently, but my stuff to read piles up. So I do think my perspective has been stagnating but I'm hoping to launch back into it when I'm done with my move and started my new job and all that shit

major intellectual influences: Marx, Fanon, the Fields sisters, Beauvoir, Adorno, Bloch, Walter Benjamin, Pashukanis, John Holloway, Mikey Heinrich, Foucault, Deleuze and Guattari (those three are more like fellow travelers but I love an insane French anti-psych post structuralist queen)

people doing interesting shit these days: Mark Neocleous, Sophie Lewis, Cinzia Arruzza, Simon Choat, W.C. Roberts, Geoff Mann, Kirstin Munro, Juliana Gleeson, Kathi Weeks

people on the agenda: Cedric Robinson, Postone, Nicole Pepperell, Aaron Jaffe, Jairus Banaji, Ashley Bohrer, Soren Mau, Bonefeld, Pitts, Backhaus , Simon Clarke, Chris Arthur, Harry Cleaver, Jason Read, Mariarosa Dalla Costa, Heather Berg, Chris Chitty, Sohn-Rethel, Cyril Smith, Chris O'Kane, Amy De'Ath, Andreas Malm, Heide Gerstenberger, Nate Holdren

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byneddiedingo · 9 months

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Clark Gable and Norma Shearer in A Free Soul (Clarence Brown, 1931)

Cast: Norma Shearer, Leslie Howard, Lionel Barrymore, Clark Gable, James Gleason. Screenplay: John Meehan, Becky Gardiner, based on a novel by Adela Rogers St. Johns and a play by Willard Mack. Cinematography: William H. Daniels. Art director: Cedric Gibbons. Costume design: Adrian. Film editing: Hugh Wynn.

Norma Shearer made the transition to talkies easily, demonstrating a natural way of handling dialogue. Unfortunately, A Free Soul doesn't call for much in the way of "natural" for Shearer, and it's one of the films that suggest why, of the major female stars of the 1930s (Garbo, Crawford, Loy, Harlow, Stanwyck, Dietrich, Hepburn, Colbert), she is the least remembered. She works hard at her role as the free-spirited daughter of an alcoholic defense attorney, but too often her work is undone by a tendency, perhaps carried over from silent films, to strike mannered poses: typically, hands on hips, shoulders back, chin high. She looks great, however, in the barely-there gowns designed for her by Adrian, which seem to be held in place by will power (or double-sided tape). The plot calls on her to try to dry out her drunken father (Lionel Barrymore) by wagering that if he can sober up, she'll give up her relationship with the sexy gangster her father managed to save from a murder rap. That gangster is played by Clark Gable, who got fifth billing (after James Gleason!), a sign of his status at the time. Gable had been making movies, usually in bit parts, since 1923, but this was the film that catapulted him, at age 30, into stardom. He still stands out in the movie as a natural, unaffected presence amid the mannered Shearer, hammy Lionel Barrymore, and pasty-looking Leslie Howard. It doesn't even hurt Gable that he's cast as a heel named Ace Wilfong, which brings to mind the insurance salesman in It's a Gift (Norman Z. McLeod, 1934) who annoys W.C. Fields with his search for Carl LaFong, "Capital L, small a, capital F, small o, small n, small g. LaFong. Carl LaFong." The improbable story comes from a novel by Adela Rogers St. Johns that had been adapted into a play by Willard Mack that been directed on Broadway in 1928 by George Cukor and starred Melvyn Douglas as Ace Wilfong. Barrymore won the best actor Oscar on the strength of the courtroom speech he gives at the film's end. Barrymore claimed that he did it in one take with the help of multiple cameras, but the logistics of lighting for that many cameras makes his story hard to credit.

#A Free Soul #Clarence Brown #Clark Gable #Norma Shearer

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fairestofall · 2 years

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In a 1993 interview with writer Aljean Harmetz for the New York Times, Disney Legends Frank Thomas and Ward Kimball agreed that if they could take only one Disney animated feature to a desert island, it would be Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937).

“As many flaws as there were in that picture, the audience never sees them because they’re so wrapped up in the story,” said Thomas. “Walt said, ‘I think we’ll put in some printed cards’. Flat painted cards had gone out with Charlie Chaplin. But that’s what Walt did. ‘So beautiful even in death that the dwarfs could not find it in their hearts to bury her, so they fashioned a coffin’. And somehow, between the music, and the paintings in the background, it all just worked.”

“We had no idea what was going to happen when people saw it,” said Kimball. “W.C. Fields said that 90 minutes of bright colors would hurt people’s eyes. I was sitting behind Carole Lombard and Clark Gable (at the premiere) and they were laughing like kids. And when the dwarfs came to the bier when Snow White was dead, I began to hear people crying and blowing their noses.”

#( may i come in ).#this speaks so much to the human appeal of snow white #so many look back on the beginnings of their careers as something that needs to be hidden #or just a necessary evil in the starting point of their artistry in which they acknowledge they would've done things so differently #but the strength of walt's storytelling was something that persisted for them all #endlessly intriguing #also fun fact: the title cards may be my favorite things in the movie #if i ever got a tattoo it'd be print from one of the title cards #also grown adults who cared nothing for 'cartoon characters' crying for snow white will never not get me #UGH

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silverbridge-harbor · 10 months

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tijuana bibles were the original rule 34

Most Tijuana bibles were obscene parodies of popular newspaper comic strips at the time, such as "Blondie", "Barney Google", "Moon Mullins", "Popeye", "Tillie the Toiler", "The Katzenjammer Kids", "Dick Tracy", "Little Orphan Annie", and "Bringing Up Father". Others made use of characters based on popular movie and sports stars of the day such as Mae West, W.C. Fields, Clark Gable, Joan Crawford, The Marx Brothers, Cary Grant, Jean Harlow, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Joe Louis, sometimes with names only subtly changed.

#stupid thoughts #tijuana bibles #nothing is new #time is a flat circle #history #196

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muz4now · 2 months

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W.C. Clark, the Godfather of Austin Blues, Has Died https://www.austinchronicle.com/daily/music/2024-03-02/w-c-clark-the-godfather-of-austin-blues-has-died/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

#MusicNews

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radiomaxmusic · 2 months

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In Memoriam: W.C. Clark (1939 - 2024)

W. C. Clark (born Wesley Curley Clark, November 16, 1939 – March 2, 2024) was an American blues musician. He is known as the “Godfather of Austin Blues” for his influence on the Austin, Texas blues scene since the late 1960s. By the early 1980s Clark had taught future rock prodigy brothers Charlie Sexton and Will Sexton how to play guitar, while they were still young boys. In 1990, Clark…

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#2024 #Blues #In Memoriam #RadioMax #WC Clark #Wikipedia

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oldsalempost-blog · 1 year

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The Old Salem Post

Our Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays Contact: [email protected] Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library. Volume 7 Issue 11 Week of March 6, 2023 https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog Lynne Martin Publishing

EDITOR: A precious bond is still shared. A reunion of all alumni, teachers, and staff took place on the afternoon of Saturday, March 4, 2023 at the former Tamassee-Salem school grounds. Graduates from the 1950s up to 2022 attended. Hugs, reminiscing, and conversations of the past once again rang out on our hallowed grounds. Our small town school was and is still precious to many of us. It unites us as family. We hope someday student voices will once again ring out in these halls. LRM

TOWN OF SALEM: Community Easter Egg Hunt April 8th. Help share the true meaning of Easter. You can help this mission by dropping of wrapped candy at the Town Hall. *Downtown Market every Sat. 8am-12pm. Rosa Clark Health Clinic March 14, 10am-2pm.Walk-ins Welcome! —Rosa Clark is providing the opportunity for our residents of all ages to have a monthly clinic if there is a need. Please come to the clinic on this day for healthy care, screening. Learn how Rosa Clark can help you. You don’t have to drive to Seneca. Come to the Eagles Nest Art Center. AnMed Mobile Mammography Coach will set up at the Eagles Nest Art Center parking area on March 18, from 8:30am until the last mammogram is done. Call for guidelines or to schedule your appointment or need more information please phone 864-512-5400

___ASHTON RECALLS______________ By Ashton Hester

Here's the conclusion of the Hayne Jones/DAR School story that began last week: HAYNE JONES RECALLS DAR SCHOOL FOUNDING - (The following is the conclusion of a story from the July 15, 1951 issue of the Keowee Courier that began in last week's column). . .Mr. Jones recalls with deep sentiment the part played by his gentle wife in getting the school off to its start, and her unselfish devotion to its welfare right down to her final illness. . .He recalls also the major part played by his wife's uncle, the late George Harrison, and a neighbor of his, W.C. Whitmire, in making the dream of Tamassee possible. . ."There never was a finer man than Mr. Harrison," he reminisces. "There had been some talk of a school in the Tamassee area, and one day he told me that if it ever came down to it, he'd match me in land to start it. . .I went with my wife to a meeting where the DAR was discussing such a school. We had talked about it, and when they said land was a prime factor, she got right up and told them we'd give 50 acres. The 50 acres of property was made ready and given in her name to the school, and it was a move from which there has never been a regret. The success of the school was her cherished dream, and I feel it was a wonderful thing that both she and I lived to see it come true. . .After telling the meeting the 50 acres would be given, we went to see Mr. Harrison, and I told him about it and then told him jokingly it was time for him to pay up on his statement. You know what he did? He grinned and matched it with adjoining land, acre for acre. . .When Mr. Whitmire heard about it, he added 10 acres, and the school had 110 acres to start on". . .Most folks in Oconee County will tell you right now that Hayne Jones probably knows more about nuts and bolts, metal fixtures, and the other thousand-and-one things in the hardware game than any other man you'll run across. . .There are just as many who will remind you that during all his city years, he kept his finger on the pulse of his farms in the Tamassee area, and he never lost track of new farming methods.

JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP 13412 N Hwy 11 Open Wed-Sat 8am-9pm. Sun 2pm-7pm. Events this week: Thurs: OLD TIME JAM & Cookies Fri– FOOD: Brats by OPUS to benefit ENAC Music: Fall Creek String Band at 6:30pm. Sat–Music: Luke Deuce at 6:30pm Food: Wing Wagon South Book Club: Meeting 10am, Wed, March 29, Above the Bay of Angels by Rhys Bowen.

Jottings by Jeannie: Anticipatory Preparedness (being at the ready for all of life's possibilities) I have endured shocking fashion trends: Maxi and Mini skirts; chunky heels and stilettos, as well swimming dresses and bikinis. It's been a joy to collect a variety of fashions. Last week an invitation arrived from Lieutenant Colonel Henry Delacruz inviting me to present an award at a formal Military Ball. Gracious! What a dilemma! Which of my five glittering, swishy ball gowns should I wear? Anticipatory Preparedness- life is short and life changes on the drop of a dime. I could never be a minimalist. Their cleared counters and empty closets show a shocking lack of imagination for what the future may hold. What a pity to miss a formal Military Ball simply because you tossed away your prettiest ball gowns! You Sultans of Salem, you Dynamite Road Darlings, you never know what's ahead! Be Prepared. Miz Jeannie Loves You!

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER , 501c3, 4 Eagle Lane, Salem OCONEE MOUNTAIN OPRY: March 18, 2023, 7pm-9pm. It has been said that some of the best picking, never heard by audiences is right here, on our back porches. Oconee Mountain Opry will capture and present some of the best local musicians on our stage. Get your tickets on Ticketleap, the Town of Salem, or call 864-280-1258.

Tamassee DAR Bridal Brunch Event: Exchange ideas with other brides-to-be, tour our inside and outside venue options, chat with preferred vendors, review our pricing packages, and meet our lovely wedding liaisons. An enjoyable brunch will be provided Experience the beauty of the luscious flowers, bushes, and trees that line our historical campus. Marvel at the secluded location and imagine the romantic evening glow provided by the fifty star lights that surround the campus. It’s the perfect place to say "I Do" to your special someone. Cost is $10 for bride and one guest. Register by calling 864.944.1390 or at Eventbrite.com Now scheduling 2023 wedding dates.

Movie Suggestion: Currently at the movie theatre is Jesus Revolution, based on the autobiography of Pastor Greg Laurie who encounters a charismatic leader of young folks in the 1970s searching for truths.

BELLFEST 2023: Join Friends of Jocassee for the 10th annual celebration of our native Oconee Bell at Devil’s Fork State Park. March 18 from 10am-3pm. Park entry fees apply. There will be Interpretive Bell Trail walks, craft vendors, food trucks, music, kid & family activities, silent auction, and more. Visit www.friendsofjocassee.org to learn more. Upstate Zipline at Keowee Toxaway State Park, North hwy 11, just across Oconee/Pickens Quarter mile bridge. Address 138 Museum Circle, Sunset SC, 29685. Phone 864-868-4767

Prayer: Psalm 103: 2 Bless the Lord O my soul, and never forget your goodness in our lives! Amen Have a wonderful week! Lynne

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blackreaderfics · 9 months

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My Little Mermaid | Clark Kent x Black!Reader

↳ Pairing : MoS!Clark Kent x Black!AFAB!Reader

↳ Rating : M (18+)

↳ Summary : a lone fisherman rescues a girl from the water

↳ W.C : ~1.6K

↳ Tags + Warnings: little mermaid motifs, comfortfic, reader is mute, slight dumbification, caretaker!clark, clark bathes her, slight implied age gap (reader is younger but over 18!!), size difference, non-sexual sexual touches, dubious consent, eye contact, ambiguous relationship, no smut

Clark wiped the mist of ocean water from his face as he surveyed the horizon. The sky was dull and gray; the same as it had been for the past three days. He had already gotten his catch for the week; choppy waters before a storm always stirred the life below right into his net. He decided to turn in for the day after his last reel-in.

Boats above a certain size usually required a crew to operate efficiently, but Clark preferred to work by himself. If any of his previous crewmates could see him hefting burdens meant for ten men with ease, they’d probably be afraid of him. He'd never forget the look on his classmate’s face when he’d been seen using his powers. His bully, ironically enough, had been the only one to witness his pushing their sinking bus from out of the river. The mocking and derision he’d gotten so used to seeing was replaced with terror, and Clark realized he’d been the sole cause of that fear.

The incident brought unwanted attention to the Kents and reporters at their front door. Since then, his parents had quietly taken him out of school where he would earn his diploma from home. He was used to being alone now.

Clark secured the net to the metal rig and lowered it into the water. Tiny droplets of rain dripped from his hood one by one until a steady drizzle began to fall. He tugged at his hood, though it didn't help him much now that he'd already been dampened from the humidity in the air and the sweat on his back. He circled back around the boat, checking for any stray buoys or untied ropes while he waited for the signal to bring his haul back up.

A heavy clang at the side of the boat called his attention. He hadn’t brought the rig down very deep and he was far from the coast. Did he misalign something when he was setting up? He mentally went over his loading checklist from that morning, but couldn’t come up with anything out of the norm—Clark was a man of routine, and he rarely strayed from it. He frowned up at the clouds, now rolling in, and back down at the roiling waters. It was too early to bring the net back up but even he knew not to tempt fate.

Clark went back to the helm of the boat and raised a lever to signal the rig’s movement upward. As the steel arm rose, however, it made a creaking noise he’d heard only once before back when he bought the old fisher boat. The guy who had sold it to him ensured he would take care of it, but maybe Clark had been naïve to trust his words.

He set the lever back to its place and stalked out of the cockpit. So much for not using any strength, he thought wryly. He wrapped the rope connected to a pulley once around his hand. A strong pull shot the net through the surface of the water; It hung a few feet above where he stood, filled with silvery bass and something else he couldn’t quite make out in the rain.

“What the—“ That something else looked very… human. Alarmed, he secured the rope he was holding onto the deck and manually worked on the metal arm that held the netted bundle. The faulty rig was already broken, and he had no problem bending the steel back to fold it closer to the main deck. The net ripped apart with a yank of his fingers and he swiftly pulled the human body from the catch.

It was…a girl. It was you. Alive, somehow, but completely bare. He shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it carefully around your body. Though your eyes were still closed, you had instinctively curled into his arms. He held you, carefully, as though you would break at any moment, and made his way to the shelter of the captain’s pit. The nearest hospital wasn’t too far from the shore. As long as you were still breathing, they’d be able to help you.

Clark laid you down on a cushioned ledge next to the control panels of the cockpit. He started the journey back to shore, but from the corner of his eye, he could see that you had awakened. When he turned to face you, however, your eyes had already squinted shut.

“You’re awake.” He left the helm to come closer, kneeling by your side to take a closer look at you. He hadn’t taken a proper look at your face yet. He wasn’t a doctor but he knew a bit of first aid; he could check for any head injuries and vital signs that way. When he noticed your body tense up, he thought better of touching you and brought his hand back down.

“Miss?” He tried again and you peeked out from underneath his jacket. Large doe-like brown eyes stared at him unblinkingly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He promised, but Clark was beginning to wonder if you could even understand him at all.

“I want to move your hair.” He spoke slowly, miming the actions with his hands at his own wetted curls. You looked at him as if understanding and slowly sat up. Clark froze as the jacket he’d draped over you shifted to reveal the brown peaks of your nipples. He quickly averted his eyes, only returning them back to yours when you moved suddenly in his periphery.

You were.. touching him? Or more accurately, touching his hair, copying his movements from earlier.

“N-no, not my hair.” Clark didn’t know why he was suddenly flustered but he moved now, with purpose, to cover you back up. You sat up, following his eyes as he brushed your long locs back and away from your face. You decided you liked his eyes very much.

Clark sat back on his heels and studied you. Your face looked unmarred, ethereal even, brown skin shimmering faintly as if you generated your own sunlight. You touched him again, this time at an area under his bearded jaw. When your fingers lightly grazed the knob at his neck, he swallowed involuntarily.

At that moment he saw it. It was imperceptible at first; hard to catch if you weren’t looking hard enough. On the sides of your neck, three thin slashes pulsated like heartbeats, like…gills? He had to get you back into the water.

Clark sat on the closed lid of the toilet, deep in thought at the strange situation before him. He had pulled you out from the middle of the ocean and you were now sitting in his bathtub, resting your chin on the lip of the tub as he brooded.

After seeing your gills (at least that was what they looked like) there was no way he could take you to the hospital. And throwing you back into the water just to get caught by another fisherman didn’t seem like the best idea either.

Finally, as if making up his mind, he rolled up his sleeves and kneeled beside you with a washcloth. Pulling your arm gently towards him, he began to rub small circles of lather into your skin.

He was always so serious when he looked at you but now he refused to meet your eyes, as if avoiding the glare of the sun. Had you done something wrong? He told you he wouldn’t hurt you. You didn’t understand the exact words, but you understood it from his eyes and you believed him.

He took your other arm and your eyes followed his movements, but he hesitated for a moment at your chest. After a beat, Clark placed the washcloth in your hands and covered it with his own, guiding your clothed hand across your breasts.

You looked down in awe. His hands looked a lot different than yours; a lot bigger. And behind his hand, yours had completely disappeared. A soft nudge at your shoulder prompted you to turn around, breaking you out of your thoughts of the man in front of you.

Your back was to him now, and you could feel the warmth of his body heat, but you couldn’t see his eyes anymore. It made you uneasy when you couldn’t see them. You turned to face him again and he sat back, startled at your sudden movement. This time, Clark had given up on avoiding looking directly at you, searching your eyes for a hint of what you wanted.

Before he could retract his hand from you, you clasped another hand over his willing it to stay. He obliged and continued, across your stomach, around your thighs, and down to your feet. After some time cleaning you, Clark wrung out the cloth and stood, pulling you to stand with him. You wondered why he seemed to ignore the area between your legs. You reached for the cloth but he took a step back.

“N-no! That’s not—,” He looked away again, the tips of his ears tinged in pink. Clark looked around his bathroom for any kind of method of escape but found none. You weren't completely clean yet, but he knew he wouldn't get anywhere trying to explain to you why. He resigned himself to his fate and moved to find a basin.

You gazed up from under him. He was much bigger than you were. Just like with his hands, you noted his body could wholly cover yours; perhaps he could make you disappear under him just the same.

Not too long after, he presented you with a basin of fresh water and cupped his hand under yours. You let the water pool and leak through the gaps in your fingers. After a few tries you were able to hold a good amount of water in the crater of your palm.

He demonstrated with you first, bringing your joined hands in between your thighs. Up from underneath your hand he helped you gently press apart your folds. He guided your fingers each time you’d collected your water, bringing it to your mound again and languidly rubbing until you felt his hand drift away.

Clark watched you copy the movements he’d had taught you earlier. He could tell you were searching his eyes for confirmation, so he made sure to nod in assurance each time you looked at him.

When you stepped out of the bath he draped a warm towel around your shoulders, making sure to avoid the slits at your neck. He was staring intently at you now. The look in his eyes told you that he would keep you safe, and you believed him.

#inspired by the new little mermaid #I’ve only seen the first half of MoS tbh #but we love Henry cavill so…!#clark kent x black!reader #x black reader #clark kent x reader #henry cavill x reader #brfwrites

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sad-edgy-teen-garbage · 2 years

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Funny Quotes Guaranteed to Make You Laugh

This series of humorous quotes affords an array of ways to cause that smile and flip round someone’s awful mood. (despite the fact that that a person is you!) we’ve were given humorous fees approximately love, marriage, getting older, parenting, and so many extra relatable topics. Grab your favorites for greeting cards, social media captions, or even just to print and grasp above your table to serve as a little reminder that lifestyles’s no longer that severe — and we’re all tons better off laughing so we don’t cry!

1. "The ability to find humor in the ups and downs of life can give us a new perspective and a new way of viewing our circumstances." Heidi Catherine Culbertson, Wisdom and Recipes

2. "I generally avoid temptation unless I can't resist it."―Mae West

3. "Sometimes you lie in bed at night and you don't have a single thing to worry about. That always worries me!"—Charlie Brown

4. There is a difference between loving someone's sense of humor and being thankful for the times of laughter we enjoy with him or her. Krystal Kuehn

5. "Laugh and find humor in everyday." Catherine Pulsifer

6. "Keep your sense of humor. As General Joe Stillwell said, 'The higher a monkey climbs, the more you see of his behind'." Donald Rumsfeld

7. Good humor brings smiles and giggles that brightens your day. Kate Summers

8. I have never liked working. To me a job is an invasion of privacy. Danny McGoorty

9. "A person without a sense of humor is like a wagon without springs. It's jolted by every pebble on the road." –Henry Ward Beecher

10. "It is a curious fact that people are never so trivial as when they take themselves seriously." –Oscar Wilde

11. "When humor goes, there goes civilization." –Erma Bombeck

12. "A sense of humor... is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life." –Hugh Sidey

13. "A sense of humor is part of the art of leadership, of getting along with people, of getting things done" –Dwight D. Eisenhower

14. "I think the next best thing to solving a problem is finding some humor in it." –Frank A. Clark

15. "No mind is thoroughly well organized that is deficient in a sense of humor." –Samuel Taylor Coleridge

16. "Comedy is acting out optimism." –Robin Williams

17. A sense of humor is God's antidote for anger and frustration." Rick Warren

18. Imagination was given to man to compensate him for what he is not; a sense of humor to console him for what he is." Francis Bacon

19. "There is no sunrise so beautiful that it is worth waking me up to see it."―Mindy Kaling

20. All I will say is that science confirms that positive emotions invoked by humor have healing effects." Charles Hunter

21. "I always cook with wine. Sometimes I even add it to the food."—W.C. Fields

22. "Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive."—Elbert Hubbard

23. There is more logic in humor than in anything else. Because, you see, humor is truth." Victor Borge

24. "If you are going to go big, to dare to change the world and be seen, you're going to need your sense of humor." Jodi Flynn, Accomplished

25. It is a pleasure to me people - Who have a keen sense of humor. Grenville Kleiser

#Humor Quotes

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sistercelluloid · 3 years

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STREAMING SATURDAYS! Brace Yourself for a Shock in PAROLE GIRL

Welcome to another edition of Streaming Saturdays, where we embed a free, fun movie for you to watch right here! Parole Girl has the most shocking ending in all of classic film: Ralph Bellamy gets the girl. (Not to fear—we know that from the jump. Also there’s literally no other attractive man in the entire movie.) The girl he gets is the fabulous Mae Clarke. But first he sends her to…

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#buster keaton #eddie cline #jean harlow #mack sennett #mae clarke #norman krasna #ralph bellamy #rod taylor #w.c. fields

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angelinasway · 3 years

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Regaining Hope

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: I should first say that this takes place about eight and a half years after the first arc of the Season 8 Buffy Comics, however I’m only using aspects of cannon. The back story will not follow the comics as you will be able to see pretty quickly in this chapter. Secondly, I actually really do love Lois so please don’t bash me for being self-indulgent by wanting to see my two favorite Superheroes get together. I can promise you all that there will be no Lois bashing in this fic. Thirdly, as far as Clark’s story goes it follows Man Of Steel so if you’ve seen the movie you know his story. Thanks for giving this a chance I hope you all enjoy reading. Also thank you to my wonderful beta Hipkarma for giving this chapter a look for me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Chapter One

Buffy lurched as the helicopter made touchdown onto the ice. She closed her eyes briefly, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be a battle of wills between her and one Colonel Hardy. She hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but just by his photo she could tell he was going to be a pain in the ass. There wasn’t much love lost between the Watchers Council and the U.S military. Not since Maggie Walsh and the Initiative, and certainly not since General Voll. The Governments of the world as a whole always seemed to have a really bad habit of sticking their noses in things they just didn't understand, hence why she was here in the freezing Canadian Arctic in the first place. Willow had created a program that had been monitoring all military chatter since Voll decided to commandeer Amy and a skinlessly resurrected Warren to attack the W.C. Headquarters in Scotland. That had been almost ten years ago, and since then Buffy had been dealing with countless other countries attempting to harness power or create weapons out of a force that they just didn’t seem to understand could never be controlled. The U.S however, had managed to keep their noses pretty clean since General Voll, even going as far as to work with her and ask for her help when needed. That’s why it was such a surprise to find out that they had found something buried in the snow that predated civilization and were trying to keep it under wraps. Especially from the W.C. And to make matters worse, she was just coming off a week-long mission from hell. Just last week she caught Russia restarting their subspecies research facility and when the shit had finally hit the fan, she had been forced to send in a team resulting in the deaths of two of her girls. After that, she and Wesley had spent the next day getting a hold of the girl’s families, which of course left her holding a big-ol-bag of guilt and the nightmares and sleepless nights to go along with it. So, to say she was cranky and pissed to hear about the U.S. keeping stuff from her would have been an understatement. She was furious! However, she was also willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe this actually wasn’t her jurisdiction. The Helicopter door slid open pulling her from her mental preparation. She blinked when her eyes met a pair of startlingly brilliant blues, surrounded by a handsomely rugged face, and scruffy beard. A green baseball cap adorned his head, hiding what she assumed from the few strands that were messily poking out of the brim was hair so brown it was almost black. He was probably somewhere in his mid-twenties, though on second inspection his eyes held the maturity of someone closer to her age. “Here let me help you.” He said loudly, so his voice could be heard over the whirling of the propeller and the grind of the engine. He held out a large gloved hand as she undid her seat belt and stood on unsteady legs. Her own gloved hand reaching for the strangers. As soon as her hand touched his however, she gasped, almost recoiling in fear, her inner Slayer rearing her head at the sudden sensation of power. And wow, was it powerful. She had never sensed anything like what was behind this man’s strong grip in all her years of slaying. It didn’t feel mystical in nature and it certainly wasn’t demonic. It was almost foreign, as if it didn’t belong here. Strength knew strength however, no matter where it originated from and her Slayer sensed him with a voraciousness that she had never experienced before. She felt a bit light headed and weak kneed by the sensation, and she had to shake her head to clear it of the roaring in her ears. Her eyes shot to his, widening in bewilderment and for a split second he had the look of a dear caught in the headlights. It was gone the next instant though, and a mask of a charmingly shy and unassuming guy replaced it. ‘Quick reflexes then, and someone who’s used to hiding in plain sight.’ The look worked well on him and she admired the quick cover. Only someone who had been living a double life could pull off a cover like that. Regardless of her admiration though, she needed to know if this guy was a threat or not. Especially with the way her Slayer was chomping at the bit and her heart pounding in her ears. So, she squeezed his hand slightly harder than she’d ever dare on someone human, just to let him know he wasn’t the only one standing there that was something other. It had the desired effect, though the fact that he didn’t wince was a little unnerving. His eyes shot to hers as she passed him, an innocent mixture of awe, curiosity, and fear burning in his irises. She knew then. He was no threat to her. The eyes were the windows to the soul and there was no doubt this man or whatever he was, had one. Plus, there was no way anyone could pull off a look that full of innocence if they had nefarious intentions. She removed her hand, breaking the overstimulation to her senses. She tried her best to cover what she had just felt by giving him a brilliant smile and winking conspiratorially. “Normally I would be worried about anyone carrying my bags considering how heavy they are, but something tells me it’s not gonna be a problem with you.” “Buffy Summers?” A new voice asked, distracting her from her assessment of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Muscular. She turned to meet the kind eyes of another man not much older than herself. "Hi." She said in greeting, reaching her hand out to shake. "Jed Eubanks, Arctic Cargo, nice to finally meet you, Miss Summers." Buffy raised an eyebrow in surprise, side eyeing Mr. Powerful for any reaction. "You heard of me?" She asked, watching the stranger’s reaction. When all she got was a look of curiosity and befuddlement her hackles finally lowered enough to completely believe that whatever or whoever he was didn’t have to do with her being here. Eubanks grinned, commanding her full attention as he said, “Little more than that, I was stationed in Afghanistan about five years ago. My chopper went down near Baghaln.” Buffy winced. “I remember that, a terrorist organization had commissioned hellhounds and were feeding their hostages to them.” “Saw you fighting that day.” He nodded. “Never seen anything like it in my life.” He paused, almost as if he was gathering up the courage to continue. “I was next in line you know, if it wasn’t for you and yours, I’d have been dog chow. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life Miss Summers.” Buffy smiled softly at the man. It had been a while since she’d been thanked so sincerely. She linked her arm with his. “Call me Buffy, I’m sure I’m gonna have Miss Summers shouted at me enough today to give me flashbacks of high school.” Eubanks laughed. “Well, least you know you got one person rooting for you.” Buffy’s eyes traveled back to the mysterious stranger, who had been watching them with rapt attention. Questions, fear, and confusion still simmering in his eyes. She imagined it was very much similar to the look she was giving him, curiosity brimming over like an over flowing stream. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, hoping he understood it was her way of saying they would speak later, before she turned back to Jed and plastered on a huge smile. “Now show me where this camp is. The sooner I get this over with, the happier I’ll be.”

******

Clark watched the young blonde woman walk away with Jed, his heart galloping in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she was able to sense he was different. Part of him was horrified at the prospect of her walking into the basecamp below and announcing to the entire camp what and who he was. It was an old fear, one that had guided him and comforted him on cold lonely nights. If he just kept disappearing, no one would ever know the truth. Another part of him however, was beyond curious about her. How could she sense him like that, was she an alien too? When she squeezed his hand earlier it hadn’t hurt, but had he been a normal man it very well may have fractured a bone or two, and he doubted she just went around breaking people’s bones for the fun of it. No, she had definitely been testing his strength, which begged the question, how did she get hers? The military seemed to know her pretty well however, and even Jed himself had encountered her five years ago in Afghanistan. Which almost seemed impossible, because she really didn’t look much older than twenty-two. God, she was beautiful though, with those bright green eyes that looked older and far more tired than someone her age should be allowed to be. She was just the kind of girl he would have only dreamed of asking out when he was younger. He shook his head, finally forcing his eyes away from her retreating form, but keeping his hearing locked on her until he was sure he wouldn’t have to make a sudden and quick exit. He reached for the two duffle bags she brought with her, the first one pretty light and obviously full of clothes and toiletries. The second one however, was quite heavy and when he heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, he did a quick scan of the items in her bag and almost recoiled in shock. It was like a medieval arsenal in there, three sharp looking swords, a wicked looking red and silver axe, six daggers, four sharp looking wooden stakes, two flasks filled with some type of fluid, a cross, two pistols, a shotgun, and a pair of night vision goggles. ‘Who is this girl!’

******

“Colonel Hardy I presume.” Buffy said with a saccharine smile, holding out her hand to shake. Not at all surprised when he didn’t return the greeting. She then turned to the elderly gentlemen to his right. Her smile softening in recognition. “Dr. Hamilton, how many times do we have to run into each other before I can convince you to ditch these macho elitists and come work for me.” “Miss Summers, always a pleasure.” He said with an amused smile, side eyeing Hardy’s annoyed frown. “I wasn’t aware that you had clearance for this project?” Colonel Hardy said a little too arrogantly. Buffy’s smile grew, oh she was going to love putting this man in his place. “Oh, you wouldn’t, orders went through about,” She looked at her watch. “thirty minutes ago. You should probably be getting a call from General Swanwick any minute now.” Just as predicted, a young soldier came through the door the next second and Buffy couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed her lips. "Sir, General Swanwick is on SATCOM." It was immediate. The look of self-assurance morphed into pure annoyance within the span of mere seconds, and it was worth every bit of discomfort she was sure to receive in the next few days of her stay. Sure enough, Hardy did not disappoint. He excused himself and as he passed the officer he said, "Please ready Miss Summers accommodations and make sure they're as sparse as possible." Buffy chuckled in amusement, looking at Dr. Hamilton with a conspiratorial twinkle. "If he thinks making me crap in a bucket is gonna offend my delicate sensibility, he's mistaken." The Doctor chuckled, "I wasn't aware you had a delicate bone in your body Miss Summers." She snorted, "I hide it well." Her eyes then traveled to the scientific equipment obviously used for monitoring the anomaly. "So why don't you bring me up to speed on this find of yours, before Hardy comes back and attempts to make my life a living hell." Dr. Hamilton shook his head, leading her over to a computer screen with what looked to be a satellite image. "You do seem to enjoy ruffling their feathers." “Well, what can I say, never been much of a fan of authoritarianism. Also, not exactly easy to trust an entity that’s tried to have you killed more than once.” Buffy said, as she leaned over to get a better look at the dark blob like shape covered by layers of snow and ice. “So, what am I looking at? An Old Ones sarcophagus?” “We don’t believe its demonic in origin.” Dr. Hamilton stated. Buffy frowned in confusion, “But weren’t the samples of ice taken around the object more than twenty thousand years old? If it’s not demonic, what the hell do you think it is?” “A vessel Miss Summers,” Colonel Hardy said, walking back in the room. “A vessel not of this world.” Buffy blinked and turned around. “When you say not of this world, I’m assuming you mean…” Hardy’s smirk was patronizing. “That’s right Miss Summers, extraterrestrials. A spaceship. A topic I might add, that you know absolutely nothing about.” Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, as if you do.” “I know more than you Miss Summers.” Hardy responded indignantly. Buffy snorted in derision, her lip curling at this man’s stupidity. “So, what happens if you dig this thing up and you’ve got a violent alien that’s been sleeping in stasis for the last twenty thousand years?” Buffy shook her head. “Furthermore, I’ve seen Alien. What if the aliens inside crash landed on earth because a giant fucking Xenomorph is inside?” “I can assure you Miss Summers we’re taking every…” Buffy threw her arms in the air. Finally losing her patience. It looked like she was the one who was actually going to be doing the yelling today. This was just so typical, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate with Russia and Sudan creating their own Initiative-like secret facilities. “The fuck you are!” She shouted. “See this is the problem with you guys,” she pointed. “This is what happens, this is always what happens!” She started to pace, her fists clenched at her sides, uncaring of the sudden wary looks she was receiving by both Dr. and Colonel, as well as the few other scientists and soldiers in the room. “You discover something…for instance that demons and monsters exist, and instead of just killing it or leaving it the hell alone, you gotta study it, dissect it, see how it works, until eventually you’re trying to harness its power for yourselves!” She shook her head in disgust, “And do you wanna know who always has to clean up the mess? Me,” She pressed her fist against her chest, “It’s always me.” Her voice softened then, a sigh whistling between her teeth as her eyes locked on both a flabbergasted Dr. Hamilton and Colonel Hardy. Okay, maybe she went a little to far there. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame them for the previous week. “It’s not…If I was only dealing with this kinda stuff once in a while I wouldn’t be so cranky. I apologise for insinuating anything about anyone in this room.” She shook her head. “It’s just every single country on earth has their fingers in the demonic cesspool one way or another and I’m getting really sick of doing damage control on top of all my other Slayer duties, not to mention the lovely annual apocalypse that never really takes a vacation. Throw aliens in the mix now and the fact that I haven’t slept very well in a week and yeah, Buffy’s stress level just hit a new high.” Colonel Hardy’s disposition seemed to soften slightly at her words and he stepped forward, “I heard about Russia and am very sorry for your loss.” He sighed, “But we aren’t them, Miss Summers. I’m willing to play ball. Please let me be the first to promise, if we find anything that could be deemed even slightly dangerous as far as alien lifeforms go, we will hand it over to you immediately, without question.” She chewed on his words for a moment, figuring this was the best she was going to get as far as cordial cooperation went, and figured she throw out an olive branch so he knew she really wasn’t trying to step on his toes. “Yeah,” Buffy agreed, sighing with a nod. “Yeah, okay. And if it’s really just a ship I have no problem with giving you free rein on any alien technology you find. Just…just do me a favor, don’t make me regret this by killing us all with it.” Hardy cracked a smile then, “Alright Miss Summers, I think I can agree to that.” And surprisingly enough, he held out his hand to make it official.

****

Clark was more than impressed with the young woman who had pretty much wormed her way into his heart without her even knowing it. She was feisty as all hell; he'd heard her entire conversation and had been caught chuckling to himself a few times. Considering how quiet and reserved he normally was, the other guys on the crew were probably thinking he'd gone insane. There were a few things that were talked about that confused him however. Like her speaking about demons and monsters like they exist. Though, considering the fact that he existed, he wasn't all that surprised there could be something out there that was possibly a greater threat than even himself. He was just surprised he'd never run into anything of the sort before, especially considering how long he'd been traveling. Then again, he never really actively sought out situations where he was a savior, those situations usually just kind of found him. Buffy however, spoke as if she had been doing these types of things regularly for years. So much so, that not only was the military aware of her, but they had deemed her a threat on more than one occasion. He could certainly relate to that, for he knew if they had any idea of what he could do, they would do everything in their power to either try and kill him or use him as a weapon. And that was something Clark absolutely refused to have happen. It not only would disgrace his father’s memory, but it would spit on the very sacrifice John Kent made for him. When he was younger, he always thought that the fear his father sometimes wore on his face was because his father was afraid of him. It was one of the things that had led to the words he used the day his dad died. He remembered how frustrated he was that day; his father was being so stubborn about letting him go to college. He remembered thinking it was because his dad wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him anymore. That he was so afraid of his son hurting someone…that he would never let him leave Smallville. Then that tornado hit, tearing Clark’s entire world to shreds and he was never able to tell his dad he didn’t mean what he said. It was his father’s sacrifice that finally made him realize that all that fear and distrust he saw etched in his dad’s eyes was never directed at Clark at all. His father had always trusted him, it was mankind that he was so afraid of. So, revealing himself to the world was absolutely out of the question. However, for the first time in Clark’s entire life, he felt he might have someone else he could trust enough to confide in. The simple fact that she hadn’t told anyone what she suspected about him was almost enough to make him trust her. The fact that she didn’t want the military to get their hands on an alien, for fear of what they would use it for and the harm it could cause to the human race also helped greatly in making him want to trust her. She was incredibly cautious about how they should go about unearthing the vessel and spoke of bringing in a witch friend of hers to put a ward around it in case there was something dangerous inside. It truly was a sound plan; it would let them be able to open the ship without accidentally releasing some deadly creature or virus by mistake. It’s also the reason he was now changing his plans of waiting a few days before he went in search of the ship. He hadn’t known magic existed until a few minutes ago and he had no idea if he was vulnerable to it or not. He didn’t think so, but he sure as hell wasn’t willing to stick around and find out. As much as he agreed with Buffy’s plan and admired her caution, he knew in his gut that this might be his only opportunity to find out where he came from. Something deep inside of him told him that the answers he sought were on that ship. He dropped the bags off at her trailer after Jed had informed him which belonged to her, noticing how sparse the accommodations were. Just like Colonel Hardy had ordered. There was only a cot, blanket, pillow, space heater, and sure enough in the corner was a bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He shook his head in amusement, apparently this was not the first time she was forced to rough it. He could hear her and Colonel Hardy heading this way, discussing the ship and what other precautions might be taken to ensure that no one would get hurt. On an absolutely and unexpected whim, Clark pulled out the notepad he’d been keeping in the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote down the first thing that popped in his head. He didn’t know what made him do it, and he hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way. The poem was called “I am” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and he didn’t really remember the entire thing, but the first verse had stuck with him. He quickly ripped the sheet of paper off the spiral, folding it, and tucking the sheet under her bag where just the edge could be seen. He stuffed the notepad and pen in his back pocket, getting to the door just as they were walking up. Their eyes found each other’s immediately, the intensity of her gaze sending an electric shock up his spine, his heart speeding up. God, those eyes of hers were like the color of the fields around the farm in spring. She raised an eyebrow in question at him but he just smiled politely and held the door open for her and the Colonel to pass as he slid by and down the steps. She followed his gaze and he found himself completely turning and walking backwards a few steps, before forcing himself to break contact and walk away. He was going to go talk to Jed, see if he could learn more about her. Plus, his shift was almost up and twilight was approaching. Soon it would be time.

******

When his gaze broke from hers it was like having a bucket of ice water doused on an over heated system. She stood there watching him walk away, her heart pounding in her chest, a loud rush of air she hadn’t even realized she was holding breaking from her lungs. Her nerves still tingled from the heat she felt in his gaze, and she was startled to realize she hadn’t had a reaction like that to the opposite sex in a very long time. Hell, she wasn’t quite sure she ever had a reaction like that, at least not one she remembered. She shook her head, turning back to the Colonel, only to notice he hadn’t missed the staring contest either. She thought he looked amused, but wasn’t quite sure. “Something I need to know about?” Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m a red-blooded female. I’m allowed to notice a good-looking man when I see one.” The Colonel hummed, his green eyes accusatorily sizing her up. “Seems like he noticed you too.” Buffy’s eyebrows shot up and she frowned. “What exactly are you implying, Hardy?” “Just making sure you didn’t send a spy in close to gather information.” He answered seriously, eyeing her warily, as if she would do something like that so unnecessarily. She rolled her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of that statement. “Colonel, if I were to do something like that it would only be if I felt I was in danger, and I can guarantee it would be another Slayer and not some well-built, redneck, with puppy eyes. No one but the W.C. and the General knew I was coming, why would I risk the little bit of leeway I knew I would gain by showing up unexpectedly, and ruin it by having a spy already in your midst’s. Please do give me some credit.” Hardy shrugged unapologetically, leaning against the wall, “I still don’t understand how your people figured out about the find when we’ve only known about it for a week.” “Oh, so that’s what this is.” She said, raising an eyebrow and looked around the almost empty trailer. He smirked, “That’s what this is.” She shrugged, it didn’t really matter to her if he knew or not. She wouldn’t be sharing the technology no matter how much he tried to intimidate her. Not that she would actually be able to explain it anyway. “A friend of mine created a program that relies heavily on magic to monitor, decode, translate, and record when certain phrases or words are used in any and all military or government communication around the globe.” The Colonel’s eyes sharpened and she watched as his jaw clenched, a vein popping out on his forehead. “And I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that little piece of technology would you.” Buffy shook her head, “Absolutely not. I’m not helping you war with other countries.” “And you call yourself some sort of hero.” He said snidely, heavy condemnation in his voice. “Do you have any idea how much something like that could help us?” Buffy froze, her back stiffening at his implications. She turned to him, her lips pursed and eyes as sharp as daggers. “It’s my job Colonel, to protect humanity. All of it.” She said, voice trembling just above a whisper in pure rage. “It is not my job to get involved with petty wars that mean very little when every year there’s some demon who gets the idea in his head to destroy every single one of us.” She pointed to the door, “I think its time for you to go now. Sun’s setting anyway, I hear it can get forty degrees below zero some nights.” Hardy frowned and opened his mouth as if to say more, but decided against it. Instead, he said, “Good night Miss Summers, will speak more about this tomorrow.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, “No we really won’t. Despite what you may think, I’m not trying to hoard technology so I can be some kinda all-knowing God and rain judgment down on everyone. It’s the whole reason its only designed to pick out key words and phrases. I don’t want to know everything, but magic in the wrong hands is the most dangerous thing on this planet. It’s more dangerous than any demon I’ve ever faced or any God.” She sighed, removing her hand. “Trust me when I say, science will get there, you don’t need magic to move it along.” His frown deepened, before he seemed to sigh in defeat. He nodded once, then left her trailer without a word. Buffy sighed, hoping that was the end of that. She really didn’t want to have to keep explaining herself. She walked over and sunk down on the cot, reaching for the lighter of her bags and pulling out her satellite phone. She called Wesley first, knowing he would be waiting up for her to check in. She gave him a brief description of what had happened so far, leaving out the mystery man for fear of making him worry when he already had so much on his plate. Wesley agreed that Willow should be the one performing the warding spell around the ship, and agreed to make the necessary travel arrangements. Her next phone call was to Willow herself, and she smiled at the cheery voice that picked up. “Is the Arctic as cold as they say?” Buffy chuckled, “Yeah Wills, its pretty cold.” Then added, “But don’t worry, you’ll be experiencing it soon enough.” She could hear the frown on the other end of the phone, before an irritated whine escaped her friend’s lips. “But I don’t wanna go to the Arctic, you know how much I hate the cold.” Buffy chuckled, “Yes, but apparently they think they found a spaceship and we need you and your magical-witchy-talents to make sure no hibernating Xenomorphs escape and wreak havoc amongst the populous.” There was a long still silence, before the expected giddy meltdown on the other side of the phone. She heard a squeal of delight, before several vowels that sounded suspiciously like they should have been words. Buffy chuckled, “Breathe Willow, oxygen is of the good.” There were several panting breaths before, “Gods, Buffy do you know what a find like this could mean for us? The technology alone could help…” “Hold your horses there, Wills.” Buffy interrupted. “I already promised the U.S. that they could have the ship.” “Wait, what?” Willow protested. “Buffy if it hadn’t been for Voll joining up with Amy and Warren, those two would have never gotten powerful enough to join up with…” “I know Willow,” Buffy said, cutting her off before that train of thought could even be realized. “I’m just saying, why should we trust them when they’ve put us through so much?” Willow said, the pain and resentment clear in her voice. Buffy, sighed. “I don’t know Wills; guess I’m just getting more forgiving in my old age.” She paused, hearing Willow sigh sadly and knowing exactly where Willow’s thoughts were taking her. They had all suffered the consequences of General Voll raising Amy and Warren up from annoying nuisances, to actual threat. When they inevitably betrayed him, because that’s what happens when you align yourself with crazy, Amy and Warren had managed to gain enough clout to join up with a recently desouled Angelus, and together they had amassed an army of witches and demons alike. By the time anyone caught wind of what was going on it was already too late. Giles had been the first casualty in the chaos. Buffy freezing up when it happened, unable to even react to what her eyes were processing. Spike had been the one to pull her out, and for months he had been the one to push her to keep going. He had been her rock in that time, an unwavering support system without any expectations of what could possibly be if they made it out alive. Wesley and Illyria had joined the fold shortly after Spike's miraculous return, followed by a severely wounded Charles Gunn and an empath demon named Lorne. Buffy had offered Wesley the Head Watcher position, being too far gone in her grief of losing the man who was more like a father to her than her real dad ever was. However, it was losing Spike three months later that had fully pushed her over the edge. It was the only time in her life that she went completely dark, and it was Angelus who paid and then some. She had never thought herself capable of torture before that moment. Figuring she wouldn't have the stomach for it, but she'd been so very wrong. She had given her Slayer full control, and by the time she was finished with him there had been very little to stake. She remembered hating not just him in that moment, but Angel too. Years of pent-up emotional trauma caused by him leeching out of her as she bled him dry. Hatred and rage boiling inside of her at the fairytale romance they'd so naively convinced each other they had. It was never a fairytale; it had been a nightmare from the start. Even soulless Spike on his worse day would have never tried to break her so thoroughly. Angelus, in essence had succeeded in what he started so many years before. Except, instead of the broken pile of tears he expected would be the outcome of his mental torment, he got the broken primal force of the Slayer in full. He must have realized his mistake somewhere between her cutting out his tongue to shut him up and flaying his skin off the muscle and sinew because when she got to his eyes, they were full of the most potent fear she'd ever seen on a creature such as him. She remembered her Slayer purring in delight at the heady look of horror that was etched on his face, so unlike the arrogant knowingness he'd been giving her for hours. She remembered the feel of his sticky, coagulated blood as it spurted onto her face when she slowly pushed the blade into the brown pupil. The same eyes she had once thought so beautiful. She remembered how it felt to twist the knife until there was nothing left. The only sound Angelus able to make was a gargling, choking, scream. Buffy shook her head, banishing the gruesome memories to the back of her mind. She had disappeared for two years after that, running every few days to make sure no one could find her, too ashamed to face anyone. Wesley had finally found her in that broken-down, abandoned hovel, too weak to keep running. He hadn't asked what happened, he'd simply taken her in his arms and held her. When she had eventually shattered completely, sobbing dry tears, because she was to dehydrated to produce any, Wesley had stroked her back, hushing her. He never once asked what happened, but she suspected he already knew. There was a haunted look in his eyes that told her he had danced that fine line once himself. “Buffy? Buffy are you there?” Willow asked, forcing Buffy out of her memories completely. “Yeah,” Buffy said, shaking her head and blinking several times. “Sorry, what?” “I said, is there anything else I should know?” Willow huffed, a worried edge to her voice. Buffy chewed on her lip for a minute, thinking of her handsome stranger. “Yeah,” She said again. “There’s definitely something else.” She was quiet for a long moment, before finally saying. “Look, I didn’t say anything to Wesley, because he’s dealing with a lot right now, but there’s this guy here and he's...well..." she paused, shivering slightly at the memory of his hand in hers. "He's like uber-powerful." "You mean like Glory and Illyria powerful?" Willow asked, the worry in her voice unmistakable now. "I mean, like take Glory and Illyria, put them in a pot, add a few other Old Ones, stir, and you got this guy." Now Willow sounded downright frightened. "You're kidding? And he's working for the military?" Buffy shook her head even though Willow couldn't see it. "No, he's actually working for the cargo company the military contracted." "Huh?" Willow said in confusion. "Yeah, and here's the thing, he doesn't feel like a demon, or even mystical. It’s almost like..." and that’s when it all began to click into place. Spaceship, uber-powerful guy working as a civilian near said recently discovered spaceship. Power that felt foreign to her, not other worldly, but out of this world. She froze, her eyes landing on a piece of paper tucked under her weapons bag. With a shaky hand she reached down and unfolded it, her eyes scanned the quickly scribbled words on the page. "Willow, I... I gotta go." Buffy said, hanging up before she could hear her friend’s protest. She reached for her weapons bag, unzipped it and pulled out her Scythe. The words of the poem repeating in her head. She thought about changing into her suit, but decided against it. She wasn't sure how much time she had, but the sun had set a while ago and she had a feeling if she didn't leave now, she'd never see her handsome stranger again. She donned her jacket and her beanie, throwing on a backpack already prepacked with survival supplies. She opened the door and ran full speed out into the night. The forgotten poem falling into the snow, the words bleeding out as the slush soaked the paper. 'I know not whence I came, I know not whither I go But the fact stands clear that I am here In this world of pleasure and woe. And out of the mist and murk, Another truth shines plain. It is in my power each day and hour To add to its joy or its pain.'

[Chapter Two]

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