Okay I totally see why people ship them now
- from Batman/Superman (2003)
occasionally subtle
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.

Origami Around
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature
Xuebing Du
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Today's Document
Three Goblin Art
AnasAbdin

#extradirty
DEAR READER
cherry valley forever
sheepfilms
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Brunei

seen from Greece
seen from France

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Chile

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Bulgaria
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Japan
@shoyousfreckles
Okay I totally see why people ship them now
- from Batman/Superman (2003)

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Clark has to fight Bruce’s seven evil children if he wants to date him
"well, the laser vision IS a plus, because it's cool watching her set stuff on fire from 50 yards away. and i like that she can fly and get things off of high shelves for me. but those aren't the ONLY reasons why i like her!"
(also i hope you enjoy retro batdad, because that's where my brain's at right now. i'm delighted that starfire's design is already so incredibly 60s; she fits right in 🌠)
“Bats all have their respective Supers” false. Bruce Wayne got one (1) Super obsessed with him and it influenced an entire generation of Supers. His aura was so powerful, he managed to get Supers doing crossover events and protecting unrelated Bats. All because Clark Kent was down bad. Imagine.
They make me ill

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We’re so back!!
doors exist and someday batman will learn to use them but today is not that day 🙂↔️
I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app
*
Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.
“No?” he says.
“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”
“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”
He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.
And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.
“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”
“Lightyears beyond, actually.”
“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”
He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.
“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”
“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.
“Exactly.”
“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”
Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”
Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”
“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”
“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”
There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.
“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”
“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”
uhum, uhum
hurry!!

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My whole life i was chasing after the idea of you and now youve lived up to my greatest expectations... bitch i thought this was a volleyball manga
I can't believe they still play with each other during their adulthood they're truly the iconic duo
my first contribution to the hq fandom. definitely not the last
a crush
karasuno first years (aka my kids)

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ola
My favorite thing about kagehina height difference is the fact that it's the exact amount for Kageyama to rest his chin on top of Hinata's head when they hug. They fit against each other so perfectly 🥺😭 AND their height difference remains exactly the same even post time skip!