Tall People Who Also Like To Float

the prettiest<3

me being strangled by someone who rightfully wants me dead: lmaooo i can't believe how bad u wanna fuck me

CLARK / @amcssing ——— a blur of azure, a flicker of red, a dash of gold—— it’s the roar of wind, the tearing of sound then the chill of the tundra. crystal shards stacked high, threatening to pierce heaven itself yet … they would never. gently it holds the world aloft, an icy place of solitude and respite, a place where even heroes might rest: a fortress. ears perk, catch the sound of clicking heels, the gentle shift of blonde hair, the sound of plush lips made stern. a boom—— a clap of thunder, the roar that announces the elation of flight before he appears. clark hovers, weightless, blues peering at her with a stars luminosity. warm, inviting, kind. boots tap the ground gentle, no longer content to linger above … no, eager to stand beside. cape swishes, faint traces of wear, a battle fought and won. strong fingers, warm like flame cup her cheeks, forehead resting against hers. ‘I’m starting to think you like the fortress of solitude way more than I do, Emma. Trying to live up to the last name?’

SHE FEELS HIM BEFORE she hears him, sees him, before the wind shifts and suddenly he is here. summer fruits / warm flannel / old folk music / sunsets. her silence interrupted but for once, it is welcome, this cacophony of thoughts running mile - a - minute . the moment her mind can touch his, the rigidness of her shoulders seems to melt.

lashes flutter shut, brushing the cheeks lifted with touch. his hands are calloused----how are they so soft ? questions she'll never ask because she doesn't care for an answer. first time she's had that thought since her arrival, which was, how long ago ? emma loses track of time here with an unnerving ease. or perhaps comforting ease.

-- " can you blame me ? "

it isn't a real question / he would never. he would never blame her for her loneliness, her wondering. and wondering she has been: her curse is to think, after all. to think of her responsibilities, her loves, her life. her failures. broken children, broken heroes. for every time she attempts to protect the metahumans, does she do anything but paint targets upon their backs ? her heart so open, yet caged.

he frees it. instantly. emma looks up into eyes full oif hope and the glacier melts, so does her gaze. a forehead 'gainst chest. something solid to lean against / not violent, but fierce. unmoving. she is diamond, but he is her rock. holding her down to the ground despite his ability to fly. perhaps that's what drew her in, after all these years; someone with a genuine want to hold her without suffocating. protect, not control. an open mind both literally and figuratively, easy to forgive and easier to trust.

his mindsong hums against hers, and she doesn't read them, just listens. enjoys the comfort of his alien mind with hers, his very human embrace.

-- " ... i apologise. i should have had batman inform you i was leaving. you didn't need to rush here so suddenly. "

@noatherics

When your bestie is hungry…>:)

❝He was a mess of scars like the sky was a mess of stars.❞

Hafsah Faizal, We Hunt the Flame

❛ yeah. ❜

She smells shit [a guy who she confessed to only for him to pick up and magic his way out of her life like days later]… “Am I losing my mind?”

tag dump. ( 1/??? )

Superman by itoscaresme.

late night Brad thoughts are the fact he, more often than not, molds himself into roles for the people around him. To him, someone’s who’s seen so much, it’s both a way to disassociate himself from things but a source of amusement too. It’s not too different than the switch in perspective of a story, just because you’ve read it one way, maybe there’s something to be found from a fresh perspective. He flows off vibes and that can make him a helping hand, an antagonist, a mentor and more. But, just like roles, he can easily discard these guises. He doesn’t connect to them - if he does, never for long. His story was supposed to be an endless journey but he found the end and that is why he drifts endlessly. An unknowable figure, aimless until a new story begins.