#please take the wheel jesus!!!!!!

[saturngalore]

jesus please take away curseforge from simmers i beg

[a2zillustration]

pspspspspsps I have started shipping out the books-

[arielavader]

I can not get over the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale hadn't spoken in 80 years and Crowley waltzes into that Church and Aziraphale wants to do a spectacular magic act to help him out of trouble and it ends with

"well, you said trust me,"

"and you did"

They hadn't seen each other in 80 years, before that night they had a huge fight about not needing each other!!!

Jesus fucking Christ better smack these two upside the head and get them back together.

[chicgeekgirl89]

This is how I feel about the LS premiere. 

[habibialkaysani]

welp. I watched the first 4 eps of bridgerton S3 after work. I have so many thoughts but mostly I've still not recovered from three specific scenes: one in bed, one on a desk, and one in a carriage.

[okamirayne]

*a Wild Friend turns dramatically in your desk chair cradling a fluffy white cat (it's a plushy)*

Do you ever think about how Neji spent his whole life rebelling against fate and destiny to be able to carve his own path only for Kishimoto to kill him off doing exactly what his destiny was determined to be from birth and then retroactively make his whole life struggle meaningless by establishing that fate is actually a real thing in the world by having Naruto and Sasuke be literally the chosen ones destined to change the ninja world

*takes a sip of tea (it's apple juice)*

I think about this a lot cuz it feels like a real fart in my face, ya know

*takes another sip, the cup is somehow fuller than before (it's tears)*

Anyway, this is definitely not me trying to not immediately dive into OtC after bawling my eyes out over BtB nuh-uh, no way, no how...

Except it totally is and I'm losing that battle, goodbye

*the Wild Friend turns the chair again and disappears*

*a Wild Friend turns dramatically in your desk chair cradling a fluffy white cat (it's a plushy)*

Do you ever think about how Neji spent his whole life rebelling against fate and destiny to be able to carve his own path only for Kishimoto to kill him off doing exactly what his destiny was determined to be from birth and then retroactively make his whole life struggle meaningless by establishing that fate is actually a real thing in the world by having Naruto and Sasuke be literally the chosen ones destined to change the ninja world

......*reliving the event*....

.......*eyes begin to twitch*....

........ *defaults to the Dastardly Twins excellent method of deep-seated denial*

I think about this a lot cuz it feels like a real fart in my face, ya know

Oh yes. I know. I bloody know.

I bloody remember it...

*considers the ceiling with false calm* You know when you laugh for a minute because you're so deep in the ass-end of feeling emotionally gaslit and cheated that you're processing the crap that's unfolding at the speed of a virus-molested XP Windows laptop...you know the one, right? You've got about ten alerts going off but you're stuck like a frozen monitor...your screen is blank...I mean, you can smell smoke coming outta your vents...but you're not catching on....because the BASTARD BACKDOOR MALWARE plot device you're reading (or watching) is like some dirty little Trojan Horse worming its way through your mother-bloody-board and your CPU is like WTF, cannot COMPUTE...and you're still not too alarmed because system's aren't yet fully shutting down...I mean...

Oh ho! What's this?! Neji just got impaled? Neji's on the brink of shuffling off his mortal coil!? What tosh! What Bollocks! Oh so he's leaking vital fluids...so what? That's happened before! No need for alarm. Nothing to see here, kids. It is but a scratch! A flesh wound! Just a waft of smelly red herring Kishimoto has thrown in there to distract you from the fact that there's no WAY that Neji's freedom-seeking character arc is about to go up in flames...because...

....wait..............

...........

WHHHHYYY?

Argh...*self-soothes, violently*...Way to kick-up the feels, Wild Friend...I probably deserve it...fair play to you, fair play...

Well...it is at this point that we have no other choice...

And I am still honoured and touched that you revisit BtB and it's following instalments (bloody hell, you read fast btw) to help with the hurt...or maybe to masochistically pick at the scab...but I get it...Damn, I GET IT. I mean, I swore up and down I'd never go POST WAR....and then Heaven Hold Us made a dirty little liar outta me.

[nocturnal-birb]

not sure if after drinking latte with basically 3 shots of expresso in it overall did me good or bad cause now I'm hyper like a motherfucker hyper over monster

[middleschoolfursona]

i like your art style a lot–have you always drawn this way, or is it something u developed over time? do u have any tips for drawing in the general sparklecat/old internet art style or similar?

1. Thank uuuuu <3

2. Under cut ⬇️

It's a mix of both- my current sort of diary art/stress relief/ wholesome style is a replication of my elementary school art style! (Like 5th grade, not 2nd lol. I was still drawing stick guys blowing up zombies with tanks and crap back then)

Otherwise, my other styles are style emulations, essentally!

I'll break it down rq:

Mostly based off my own childhood art:

Natural progression of my art as I grew up:

Style "emulation" (le me making an amalgamation of liek 20000 old deviantart artists into one image)

Most of the sparklecat and scenedog art I draw like the above, is inspired by the works I stockpile from deviantart deep dives, and archive blogs. They're not emulations of one style, but multiple styles, taking parts I like or think are the most 'authentic'- essentially, I do what your young brain would have done without thinking, but I have to do it on purpose haha

My tip: while practicing, I'd say absolutely do studies of peoples entire DA galleries and figure out what works best for you.

Above all else I can't say anything else but like. Age regress lmao. If you can't do that, just do everything you can otherwise to put yourself in the headspace of the art you're emulating.

Put on old Amnesia playthroughs on YouTube, listen to Yaoi Nightcore playlists, edgy scourge AMVs, Naruto YTP, the whole Twilight movie- really whatever you listened to back in the day. Put that back on in the BG. Open current MsPaint or your preferred emulation of old MsPaint, or a free art software like medibang. (Don't download cool brushes. Work with Pen 1 and Airbrush or whatever.)

Use references of the era you want to emulate and use only those. Take all your current knowledge of art and BIN IT. The #1 problem in most emulation art even I have a really, really hard time with- is your stuff looking too modern because your art style is modern. Your tools are modern. Your mindset is modern. It will make your art look uncanny.

Don't try hard. It's really temping to draw the most rawrxd scenecore webcore hot topic revival 100 gecs whatever, I get that I guess- but it won't look like it's from the era. It's really hard to get x3randum ☆~ iTs rAinIng TACOOZZZZZZ ~☆ humor right, so don't try it for your first and submerge yourself in the era first. Tryhard sparkles are a real issue and you risk making your art look like it's snark.

Small canvases and or destroy your image quality. I don't do this as much as I should but it definitely adds to the look LULs

I will say, I have no idea otherwise because I come from a very privileged background when it comes to style emulation which is that I grew up planning to be an animator and thus, in my critical years, I was basically 100% drive on the ability to draw characters in many styles, on model. If you don't have this skill, it'll be a lot harder I'm sure.

Use your non dominant hand for especially young looking art. (If you have one. If not... uh... try your mouth?) (~that's what she said~)

(I mean. If you're *going for* the look of 'yes it's 2023 yes I'm bringing back this' go ahead, it just won't look genuine in the slightest and I am someone who's art journey is about doing all I can to emulate authenticity. Just adding this because I know a lot of people are! Go make that modern sparkledog eyeburner mary sue antisnark! It's just not my cup of tea. And I can't really give any pointers kthxbai)

[jellybug529]

I forget you can post songs on here

[maretriarch]

i don't believe in new years resolutions I think theyre a lofty goal at best that leads to a shame spiral when you cant reach them and a lot of broken hearts and promises also theyre a government plant funded by Big Gym Membership BUT also...for the first time in a long time...i really do want better for my life and ive already been making moves to change things. i just hope by the end of the year ill have started to build some semblance of a life for myself, something i can look on as an achievement, and generally be in a better place than i am now with more under my belt.

[redridcr]

ok but me imagining the petty bullshit red does if someone breaks up with him ( depending on how it goes ).

me wondering the petty bullshit red does if someone CHEATS on him

[umnitsa]

Ok, so let's please go there. I watched the movie in the first session I could, December 1st and I noticed that fucking cut on Santa's jacket. I have watched it once more and it is driving me CRAZY. THIS WASN'T THE FIRST TIME

I don't care if Santa is in this movie a sexy tattooed viking called Nicomund, I just DON'T. Please tell me how that tear in the jacket happened.

Narrator: May hates the Hyperfocus.

[rosiesramblings]

^^^^^ How this fic makes me feel

Have you considered Bruce being super awkward and stiff when he's hanging out with Clark and Diana, pre relationship or early relationship or whatever, and Jason and Dick seeing that and immediately being like "nope. We're not having that. Dude needs to loosen up." And Bruce never sees it coming when they flank him and start going to town on his sides. And of course Clark and Diana are all "oh?? So he is human?? Interesting." And Bruce threatens to ground two grown men because he just knows his life is about to change. Clark and Diana are goblins. He's done.

continued: OKAY BUT Bruce in bed in between Diana and Clark and they're all that perfect state of sleepy loopy comfortable and warm. And Clark is rubbing these soothing circles over Bruce's stomach and chest and Bruce is just melting into the bed and Clark is all "who's your favorite partner" and Bruce doesn't hesitate to say Diana, just to mess with Clark. But of course it backfires on him because "Bruce, look at his face. How is he not your favorite?"

You KNOW how I feel about them FUCK anyways here's these two prompts smushed together because...Im love them.

This fic is a sequel to Smitten! You don't have to read it but it will enrich your experience :)

Baby, I Surrender

Bruce deals with bombshells professionally, both in and out of the cowl, but absolutely nothing could prepare him for the world of dating two superhumans at once.

He’d never been one for monogamy, and he was happy to let the tabloids chalk it up to whatever psychological buzzword they were abusing that month. It didn’t matter. The number of partners has never been his problem…it’s the dating part. He’s not soft. Kind words are never his instinct, touch has to be coaxed out of him--most people tire of trying to train affection into him by the first month or so.

Clark, for some reason, seems to like his awkwardness. When Bruce wants to backpedal out of emotional proximity, Clark’s there to box him in and sit in the vulnerability with him. He’s a tease in more ways than one, but mostly he’s sweet. Like, send Bruce a box of chocolates at work ‘just because’ sweet. Bruce is starting to settle into the reciprocation part--he sent a bouquet over to Clark’s earlier in the week and it only made him nauseous once. 

Diana had surprised them both. She and Bruce had been circling each other for a while, flirting for the fun of it at events. There’s always been something between them, he thinks, a soft and sacred thing at the center of an iron-clad friendship. She’s saved his life without breaking a sweat, but she’s also gone with him on those long, silent walks he needs to recall who he is. So when a friend--a woman like that drags your boyfriend over and asks the both of you to dinner…well, Bruce would’ve been a fool to say no. 

The three of them are still easing into the togetherness of this affair, still picking around the fragile parts with jittery trepidation. Bruce wanted desperately to avoid public attention, but he and Clark frequently cross paths for day job purposes as it is. Also, it would be…unbecoming of him to avoid Diana as one of the Smithsonian’s most generous donors. So, when the Smithsonian announced its ribbon-cutting gala for its new exhibition, Bruce decided that he was going to be brave and go with his partners. As a unit. 

Bruce descends the grand staircase to find Diana and Clark looking radiant as all hell. Diana slow-dances with Clark in a floor-length maroon gown that flatters both her strong shoulders and curves. Clark’s jacket is the same color as her dress and fitted perfectly to his body. Diana dips him and he laughs, holding onto her as she lifts him back up. 

There’s no music. Bruce’s heart couldn’t be more full. 

“You’re both…matching.” He pauses. They don’t stop swaying, but they both smile at him. 

“I think someone--” Diana gives Clark a playful look-- “May have overheard me trying to choose what to wear. He picked me up like this.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Clark clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, but his cheeks dust a faint pink. 

“You look…You both look…” Bruce runs a hand over his mouth to hide his fleeting smile. “I just threw this on, but now I’m sensing that I should change.” 

“You’ve trained him well, Clark. That was almost a full compliment.” Diana leans back into Clark’s shoulder, but her eyes never leave Bruce’s. 

“Can’t take credit for that.” Clark laughs, winding a lazy arm around her waist. She laces their fingers together. The overwhelming urge to kiss them both senseless is a welcome surprise. Bruce takes it in stride. 

Bruce does not run upstairs, as that would be undignified and embarrassing, but he does hurry. He changes into a sleek black tuxedo set and loses the tie--there’s no time to get Alfred to tie one now. He rustles through his pocket square collection until he finds a gorgeous maroon silk to fold into his breast pocket.

He bursts out of his room and nearly slams right into Jason and Dick. 

“Woah!” They manage to swerve out of the way at the last minute. Bruce blanches. Father and sons contend with each other for a moment while Bruce desperately tries to sink into the Earth. 

“You haven’t left yet?” Jason brightens with the beginning of a smirk. 

“You’re one to talk. The two of you were supposed to be on patrol an hour ago.” Bruce fiddles with his cufflinks. Dick tsks at him and goes to fasten them for him, but apparently the cufflinks aren’t up to his standard. He huffs, disappears into Bruce’s room, and reappears with a different set.

“You were in a different suit an hour ago.” Jason’s eyebrows raise. Bruce can hear the little hamster wheel that is his brain rattling as he regrettably connects the dots. Dick looks up from adjusting Bruce’s sleeves. He and Jason have an unintelligible conversation with their eyes alone. 

Bruce regrets adopting such intelligent orphans. 

“Oh my god. Bruce, did you change to match Clark?” Dick gasps. Jason snickers into his fist. 

“No.” Bruce clenches his jaw. “Yes.”

“You look fine.” Jason claps his shoulder. 

“You look good.” Dick fiddles with Bruce’s collar. Bruce swats his hands away. 

“Thank you. Patrol. Now.” Bruce gestures back the way they came. 

“Be safe,” Bruce calls after them. He waits until he hears them walk away and then waits a little longer before he dares to leave. He does hurry down the steps this time, but only because the chance of encountering more of his kids is spiking by the second. Also, because they’re late. 

“Sorry about that. Let’s get go--mmph.” Bruce gets swallowed into a kiss with Clark, deep and sweet. Bruce grips Clark’s biceps to remember which way is up. 

“This whole situation is going to be a problem for me.” Clark gestures at Bruce, breathless. Bruce tilts his head and lets his eyes roam Clark’s exquisite form.

“I’d hate to cause any problems for you, Mr. Kent.” Bruce walks his fingers up Clark’s chest and tugs at his tie. 

“I’m sure you would.” Clark clears his throat. Diana wraps her arms around Bruce from behind.

“You’ll save a little bit of this for us, won’t you?” She hums, trailing her fingers down the column of Bruce’s throat and down to the exposed part of his chest. He shivers.

“The night is still young. We’ll see what happens.” He kisses her over his shoulder, turning to lean into it fully. He memorizes the way her lipstick looks so he can daydream about her leaving smudges of it on his skin.

Bruce perks up at a creaking floorboard, one that only creaks when one of his children has gotten un-sneaky in their sneaking. He narrows his eyes at the balcony. Jason’s tuft of white hair is just barely visible behind a pillar. 

Bruce heaves a deep sigh.

“I know you’re up there,” Bruce calls. Dick and Jason both stumble out from their hiding space and immediately adjust themselves. Their descent down the stairs is anything but normal, but Bruce is proud of them for trying, at least.

“You didn’t tell us you were dating Wonder Woman too,” Dick hisses, eyes wide. Diana waves at him. He meekly waves back. 

“Nah, no way. This has to be a charity thing.” Jason whispers not-so-quietly. 

“Not a charity thing, Jason, though I appreciate your unwavering faith.” Bruce huffs, but something sour does curl inside him at the jab. He should be used to it, but he isn’t. Jason must see something in his face because he shuffles his weight.

“Didn’t know it was serious. Sorry.” 

“I don’t know what it is, but I like it. Ideally, they also like it. Don’t tell the others until I’m—we’re sure it’ll work.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair. 

“Good luck keeping something like this secret in this house. Between Cass living in the walls and Steph’s crush on you-know-who—“ Jason tilts his head towards Diana— “you’re toast.” 

“Also, I’m pretty sure they heard you,” Dick murmurs. Bruce hangs his head in defeat. He can hear his partners laughing softly at him, but he chooses to strategically ignore it. 

“Clark, Diana. These are two of my children, Dick and Jason.” Bruce puts a hand on both of their shoulders and gives a firm squeeze. 

“We’ve heard plenty of good things about you.” Diana beams. Jason gives her a firm handshake. Dick kisses her knuckles. Bruce can’t help but smile at how excited they are. 

It bodes well for whatever this is, between the three of them. 

“So have we.” Dick beams. 

“Really?” Clark glances at Bruce with the softest smile. Bruce bashfully rolls his eyes. 

“Well, no. We’ve been trying but he won’t tell us anything.” Dick nudges Bruce’s shoulder. 

“It means he cares.” Jason mock-whispers. 

“Alright, you’re done. Out. Go. Bye.” Bruce shoos them away with firm hands on their backs, but they resist. 

“C’mon, wait, let’s get a picture!” Dick fishes out his phone and holds it up like a white flag. Jason leans up against the wall, keen to observe. 

“The press will take plenty.” Bruce frowns. 

“Yeah, but I think Alfred would love one of the three of you, don’t you think?” Dick blinks, all innocence. Bruce glares daggers at him. 

“A picture sounds lovely.” Diana sweeps Clark and Bruce into either side of her. Clark and Bruce touch hands across the small of her back. 

“Bruce, smile. It’s not a funeral.” 

“I know how to smile, Jason.” Bruce rolls his eyes. 

“Would you like to prove it?” Jason gestures at him. Bruce grimaces for the picture. 

Of course, he’s had plenty of practice faking smiles for a camera. There’s something about this picture though, the implications of it, that scares the Brucie routine right out of him. Maybe because it matters. 

“This is stupid,” Bruce grumbles. 

“It’s sweet. It means they care,” Diana whispers teasingly, kissing his cheek. 

“That’s so cute! Hold that--okay, nope, we lost the smile.” Dick sighs and puts his hands on his hips. Jason leans over to him and they murmur back and forth for a while. Dick’s eyebrows go up in that way they do when he has an idea. 

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Bruce mutters to Clark. 

“I will not confirm, deny, or disclose it.” Clark grins mischievously. Something about the look in his eye is familiar, it sends Bruce’s stomach swooping in a strange way. 

Dick bounds up to Clark and bounces on his toes. His eyes are glittering with awe. 

“Mr. Kent--”

“Please, Clark is fine.” 

“Clark.” Dick bites his lip on a smile. Bruce makes a note to commend him for not squealing. “Would you hold this for a moment?”

“Of course.” Clark takes the offered cellphone. Dick leans up and whispers something in his ear, hiding his mouth behind his hands. Clark is suddenly aglow, grinning as if Christmas has come early. 

“What are you planning? What’s happening?” Bruce hisses, looking between the two of them. Clark shrugs dramatically. 

“Nothing, nothing. We’ve kept you waiting long enough. We’re gonna take one more photo, and it is what it is. If it’s terrible, Alfred can always grab one off the internet.” Dick waves nonchalantly, striding up to the three of them. Bruce narrows his eyes.

Dick fiddles with various elements of Bruce’s outfit, frowning deeply. He can’t seem to get things to lay the way he likes, which alights a deep spark of anxiety in Bruce’s gut. He knows he looks fine, but Dick doesn’t seem to think so—

“Jason, come help me fix this.” 

“My pleasure.” Oh, Jason is smiling. That’s--well, it’s lovely. Bruce doesn’t see it often anymore. But it’s also terrifying and an omen of chaos. Not lovely. 

Jason and Dick both duck under Bruce’s arms in unison and start tickling him. Betrayed by his own children. 

Bruce has fought off deadlier assassins blindfolded and with his hands bound behind his back, but the difference is that it’s frowned upon to punch his children. Which means, regrettably, he folds. 

“Hey!” Bruce manages to snatch one of Jason’s hands, but it leaves him open for Dick to squeeze his sides. Bruce’s laughter gets the better of him and he leans into Diana for protection. 

Diana gasps in sheer delight. 

“I didn’t know you were ticklish, Bruce! Did you know about this?” She tugs on Clark’s sleeve. He takes a few pictures of Bruce. 

“Yeah, I…found out pretty early. Figured I should let you stumble across it, lest Bruce suddenly ‘find’ that kryptonite spear he swears he got rid of.” Clark murmurs. Bruce gives him the finger, face burning. 

With some difficulty, Bruce manages to detach Jason and Dick from his person. They both grumble at being foiled, but they look like…they’re in trouble? Or expecting it, at least. It tugs painfully at Bruce’s spirit. 

He swallows the lecture he was going to give in favor of ruffling their hair aggressively. Dick laughs, Jason screeches indignantly, and Bruce figures that’s more than enough for now. 

“You look thoroughly debauched, we’re fashionably late, and I’ve just figured out what I’d like to do with the next three hours of my time. Minimum.” Diana smooths her hands over Bruce’s chest. 

“See, I liked the first part of that. How about we stay there?” Bruce hovers a hair’s breadth from her lips with a smirk. She closes the gap, pulling him close by the back of his neck. 

Evil fingers pinch his sides and Bruce squeaks into Diana’s mouth. 

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” Clark grins. Bruce scowls with no heat. Clark bestows a righteous apology kiss upon him, one that takes him out at the knees a bit. 

“I’m out.” Jason gags, trudging up the stairs. 

“It was nice meeting you both.” Dick winks, bounding after Jason. 

Bruce sighs fondly as they go. It’s Clark who holds his waist this time, leaning in to murmur in his ear. 

“Are we sure that we have to go?”

“If Vicki Vale is going to hunt me down for an exclusive anywhere, I’d rather it not be here. Again.” Bruce squeezes Clark’s hand. 

“It’d be a waste not to take these outfits for a spin.” Diana loops her arm through Bruce’s. He hums in approval and starts to walk them to the door.

“Maybe I can be convinced to make an early exit.” Bruce smirks at the way his partners stiffen beside him. 

…

They grace the gala for truly an hour at best—Diana and Clark have an express talent for winding each other up and Bruce is, in truth, a weak man. Their outfits spend more cumulative time on the bedroom floor than on their bodies. 

The moon lays a quiet blessing on the master bedroom once they’ve finished, bathing everything a cool silver. Bruce’s bed had always felt too big for sleep—he took any excuse he could to curl up on a couch or in the cave—but for them, it’s perfect. There’s no telling where one of them ends or begins, just limbs tangled in content fondness. 

“Who’s your favorite? Me or Diana?” Clark whispers teasingly. A chuckle rumbles low in Bruce’s chest.

“Diana.” Bruce cracks open one eye to drink in the glory of Clark’s offended face. Diana rewards him a hot, languid trail of kisses to the underside of his jaw.  

“Bruce, look at his face. How could he not be your favorite?” Diana tilts Bruce’s chin in Clark’s direction. 

“I thought you’d be flattered.” Bruce huffs. “Fine, Clark’s my favorite.”

“Bruce. C’mon.” Clark adds another love bite to the growing collection on his collarbone. “Just look at Diana.” 

“I am getting very mixed signals here,” Bruce gasps softly, clenching his fingers in the sheets. Clark’s kisses grow light and insistent. 

“Clark.” Bruce fights tooth and nail against the smile trying to fight its way onto his face. Goosebumps flare across his chest. Clark nibbles a little and Bruce twitches. 

“Yes?” He blinks innocently. 

“Don’t ruin this.” Bruce squishes his cheeks threateningly. Clark dives to nuzzle Bruce’s neck, scooping him up into his arms. Tired and shmoopy, Bruce giggles and reaches for Diana. She props herself up on her elbow, amused, and gives him her hand. 

“What?” Bruce snickers, flinching away from Clark’s deadly lips. 

“Just taking all this in. I’m meeting this version of you for the first time.” Diana hums. 

“I think Giggly Bruce is my favorite.” Clark peppers more kisses, the endless fount of affection that he is. 

“That’s not—there’s no—stoppit—“ Bruce curls in on himself. Clark wiggles his fingers into Bruce’s stomach and chases his blushing neck with his lips. 

“I agree, Kal.” The name catches beautifully on Diana’s tongue. Evidently, Clark seems to agree—he peeks over Bruce’s shoulder with a radiant smile. 

“Can I convince you two to at least try and sleep?” Bruce huffs, scratchy and fond. Diana hums and slides closer, tucking herself into Bruce’s chest. He skims his fingers across her back in gentle patterns. 

Quiet blooms in the room as their breathing starts to sync. The weight of Clark’s arm is as much a comfort as Diana’s breath against his skin. Bruce thinks, distantly, that he might like to fall asleep like this every night. 

“Di, c’mon—“ Clark snickers, then giggles. 

“You’re both terrible at this.” Bruce turns over to squint at Clark. Clark can’t even look at him—his entire being is scrunched in restrained laughter as he slaps Diana’s tickling hand away from his hip.

Bruce slowly turns to the other menace in his bed. Diana just shrugs. 

Bruce flops back down on the bed and actually manages to doze off, lured into floating sleep by the gentle rumble of Clark’s chest. This means he’s completely blindsided when the morning renews his partners’ unending playfulness, but safe arms to sleep in are well worth the sacrifice. 

[thankyoulord]

[hardanchorbeliever]

[pinkvitaminwater]

Most of the time I love having a leadership position at my school. It's great, we do really cool things, and we have a lot of fun! But every now and again I have to be the leader™️ and take on an uncomfortable job and have to confront someone over some fucking bullshit and God I fucking hate it.

Why did I do this??? Who the fuck put me in charge???

Sending one email that's a tad confrontational makes me want to vomit. I have a literal puke bucket next to me. I've been pacing all fucking night avoiding this one goddamn email I have to send.