Superman (2025) dir. James Gunn
i need to keep a little sticky on my desk that reminds me which muses are cheesy dumb flirts and which ones are clever they blur
❛ hey ! i make an honest living—— it's not stealing if you're stealing it from people it didn't belong to begin with. ❜ it makes for a fun challenge, too. a bit of rolling in the mud before appreciating what glitters beyond it. ( although no small part of him prefers the hunt over acquisition. ) it's a game—— a challenge worth puzzling over. by now, well, he'll be able to give the staffordshire hoard a run for its money &. half that treasure wasn't even magical. silver and gold is nice, sure, but enchanted silvers and gold? no contest. ❛ help yourself. it won't be missed, and that one you've been eyeing suits you. although, anything here would. 'sides, i ain't falling for those sticky fingers again. ❜
“ woah, look at all this stuff! ” he's got all kinds of things- things she's never seen before, things she wouldn't consider stealing. she doesn't know where to look first, or what to grab first, take for her own collection. the glint of a gold necklace catches her eye, and she crouches down to get a better look. “ how did you find all of this? do you steal it from people, or do you buy it? ” if it's the latter, he must be rich. / @amcssing ( ♡'d , for brad)
cobbled together a carrd and god what year is it ive been in that fucking trench for hours.
【 @metanoen | emma's fingers slink and then pull; scalp captured from behind, tilting his head back and back until his throat is exposed. up on her tip-toes, so they can see eye to eye, and her smile is all red lips and teeth. " thane, darling, i'm bored. " and then she releases him, just like that, watching his hair spring back into place as she steps around him. face to face, a painted blue nail taps his nose. " do something about it, won't you ? i think we should get away somewhere. somewhere i don't have to smell logan's reek from across the city or listen to summers' latest lecture on politics. just us. " | unprompted.
mind touch; intermingling—— dancing. a song of them / a waltz of empathy 'pon telepathy. it tangles and twists, telling thane of emma's presence. ( of her strut, of her prowling. ) then, she comes. digits like claws, catching hold, pulling forth prey ... a lioness. grey locks part, silky and loose, a warmth seeping from her laid claim, to him—— to body, to mind, to heart, to soul. thin lips curl into a smile, an apparition of his delight. ( it's kind, yet mischievous lurks beneath it all. ) centuries of wisdom, the cunning of a shrewd king lurks beneath all acts. it defines him. it becomes him. &. he never felt more like a king than when he's in her grasp.
silver eyes worship, silver eyes adore, assessing each note and tone. ( she is art. carved &. perfect. ) drawing eyes, making them yearn for touch—— yet knowingly, she denies. a twinge of disappointment rings out, still, nonetheless gaze adulates her when she appears. pupils, thin slits, grow wide and a light rumble begins in the king's chest. he lays claim; he hunts now. step brings them closer, arms looping loosely around her waist. stormy hues gleam, something hungry beneath pools of quick silver. forms press closer, warmth ebbing between them. it's greedy—— a greed only royals might taste.
❛ that's dangerous. you get oh so tricky when you get bored. ❜ laugh comes gentle, only so tender with her. giving her a peer behind porcelain mask, letting her see each gear clink and whirr &. glimpse beast hidden within cages of eloquence. ( it hunts her. prowling the depths mind, it brushes against thin prison bars, eager to reach ... to pounce. ) ❛ you must think the world of me to give much such a tall order. we both know logan's stench could reach the hells themselves. ❜ as for summers' ... those lectures never truly end.
cheek brushes against her own, gentle although insistent. nudging her head to side, exposing same tread of neck she did so sweetly to him. lips trace beautiful jaw, nipping and kissing where he pleases. he follows curve from back to forth, leaving no inch unclaimed—— tender longing, devouring need. it chases itself in every action. an ouroboros of wants and needs. then, he brings himself closer to her pretty neck—— close enough to hear faint drum of pulse. warm breath sits over frail veins, so frail ... so exposed. then, it's thane's turn to retreat, to flee from the final moments, offering a kiss on her cheek instead.
❛ murozia's lovely this time of year. ❜ and to see emma clad in murozian silks ... sounds quite delightful. ❛ i'll make the arrangements. ❜
"thanksmanyou'realifesaver." words hurtle off his tongue like a racecar zipping around a track——all in less than a second, a picosecond, actually. "er, i mean, thanks, man. i'll be sure to cherish this burger that could've totally saved your life. minus the pickles, can't eat those." a loose grin hangs off his lips before hurrying to take the burger in question. running low on calories ... well, that's a speedster's personal hell. far as wally knows, though, he might've had it the worst. it earned him, at one point, the name 'kid mouth' rather than kid flash. least that's what dick loves to call him even to today.
plucking the top bun from the burger, he gently flicks the pickles off onto a napkin and takes his first bite. ah! delicious calories. exactly what every growing flash needs—don't fact-check that. you're hearing it from a true professional, after all. right now, wally's in heaven but really wondering if he's got enough on him to pick up a nice shake. some fries too——oh, and one of those little wildcat toys.
"so, between starving to death and crying, what exactly is there to—" a light burp. "excuse me, uh, what exactly is there to do around here? 'm a bit new to this tourist thing." sort've. long as the words stretched a bit.
@amcssing asked → “ you gonna eat that? ” wally to mark / yeah im back again ( src. / accepting. )
Like in many such prior cases with many other individuals, Mark's first instinct is to just hand over the discarded half of his burger without any complaint.
That's not what he does, though. It's not like he was going to finish it either way, but his second and more important instinct is to be really annoying about the whole situation. There are some real desperate people out there who will only let go of their hard-earned food kicking and screaming—Mark just wants to go out being a little bit of an asshole about it.
"Sorry, I just ran outta all my money and this is the last good burger I'm ever gonna get," he lies. "I mean, I guess you can take it, but I'll just starve to death after. And cry. I'll cry an' I'll starve to death about it. Is that what you want? You want me to die? Wow. What a cruel and unjust world I live in."
He leans back in his seat, offering a look halfway between judging and amused. Then he shrugs, breaking out into a smile.
"Nah, you can have it."
【 loni says | You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? | bg3 party banter , accepting. ( i think this is the right meme i check last night fjlajf )
droplets dart across concrete, puddles of stagnant water forming, small ripples forming with each step. air damp, the faint scent acrid scent of mildew and humidity lingers in the air. it's one long corridor—— well, sewer, honestly. it's one long sewer, a twisting tunnel of refuse / a maze of underground runway and whatever others nasties might dwell within. it's a mess of rubbish, spiderwebs and lost toys. each more sad to come across than the last—— lost treasure not meant to find itself back home again. ( and brad wouldn't change that. )
fingers crackle with magic, the tinny hum of sorcery, the twisting of unnatural forces. hand sits aloft, flames crackling in palm, light chases off shadows—— rats scurry from stomping feet. it's not his usual locale. give him an ancient tomb over some musty, funky sewer, but there's something here. something worth finding, something worth braving shards of broken glass and risk of infection. it helps when neither of those things bother him anymore; a twisted, unnatural body has benefits, far more benefits than cons. dulled sense of smell ... well, that works wonders here. ain't perfect, mind you. small air fresheners drift around them, cutting down on stomach-turning nausea. it gives more time to think, to scout, to consider riddles given. gaze never drifts far from map nor etching in grimy walls. at least, not until she speaks.
voice draws attention, plucking focus with ease. no small feat, mind you ! not many could've managed that much when he's lost in thought, drifting between countless possibilities; it's a moment of grounding. it brings him back to the same plane; it brings him back to her. a ship sent out to sea returning to harbor, again and again. ( always destined to depart. ) / never truly meant to stay.
❛ counter point ... don't fall down here because i literally don't know what you'll land in. ❜ lips pucker, brows knitted together in worry, regarding the trash around them far more consciously than before. head turns to watch her, eyes flickering in conjured flame, something dances in them. something circles in dark hues, a dancer wreathed in flame, a passionate trance only illuminated by fire. ❛ BUT and big but, not your butt, mind you, if that were to happen then i suppose i'll give it a college try. no promises. no refunds. no returns. ❜ a faint laugh echoes off tunnel walls, gentle yet ringing down a treacherous path. a pause, boots slowing to a stop with a firm thud. ❛ ... ❜ free hand reaches for her, fingers gesturing towards her. ❛ hold my hand. that make you feel any better? ❜
@packless
green hues survey their expression, ensuring they're being honest—— &. seem satisfied. hitting the mean streets of las vegas along wasn't a big deal. ( once you've walked through gotham, could anywhere really get the best of you? ) no. the answers no. still, solo heroics aside, wally prefers someone at his side. someone to shoot a knowing look, share a good laugh, and then move on to the next thing. quipping at crooks and robbers isn't the same as between friends—— way too many bullets flying. ( even though ONE proves too many to most. )
laughter revs, a light rumble in chest, yet stifles itself into a chuckle. springing to his feet, wally balls up what's left of the burger wrapper, it sails through the air—— nice long arc and just barely makes it into the trash. hands clap together, smile growing far prouder. ❛ score one for the red team—— orange team? ... team vegas. ❜ better off keeping it simple; easier on both of them.
part of him wants to ask if they're really sure about this, if they really want to lead him around. ( without witnesses, wally could admit he's a bit pushy ... maybe. ) although, he kept his concerns to himself. no point treading the same track over and over. ( right? ) ❛ m'wally. wally west. better than callin' me your tourist all day, yeah? ❜ they parrot with a grin. ❛ let's do something fun—— oh oh! but near another burger stand. never know; might get hungry later. ❜ ( he would. )
Mark's here for his own personal reasons, but there's no mistaking the way his eyes light up when the offer is extended. There's nothing he loves more than a chance to have some fun, after all—his siblings will still be here when he's done showing this guy around.
Probably. He's been looking for excuses to avoid actually talking to them, anyway.
"You might wanna consider hitting up some of the casinos, 'cause today's your lucky day!" Mark shoots an energetic wink, then laughs at his own little joke. "'Certified guide' is pushing it, but I know my way around well enough, I think. And I happen to be free. I mean, who comes to Vegas with a plan for what they're gonna do, right? Well—I guess responsible people. Anyway, I'll tag along. Beats doin' it all by myself!"
Not a lot of people would flag down a kind stranger for this sort of thing. Mark himself probably would, but he knows it's not really the way most people would go about it. That alone is enough of a reason to want to go along with things, if only for the sake of curiosity and entertainment.
He pushes himself out of his chair, enthusiastic as ever. "I'm Mark, by the way, so you don't hafta walk around all day callin' me your tour guide. You got anything you're especially down for? Somethin' fun, somethin' laid back? I guarantee you I can find whatever."
When does a CANDLE become a BLAZE? Whеn does a MAN become a MONSTER?
At the far end of the street, on my side, was the silhouette of a man, dancing. It was a strange dance, similar to a waltz, but he finished each “box” with an odd forward stride. I guess you could say he was dance-walking, headed straight for me.
[…] He was very tall and lanky, and wearing an old suit. He danced closer still, until I could make out his face. His eyes were open wide and wild, head tilted back slightly, looking off at the sky. His mouth was formed in a painfully wide cartoon of a smile.
— The Smiling Man