#got too lost in the sauce

[returntotheground]

my girl!!

[hinamie]

i don't normally participate in these redraw challenges but it's megumi so i'll make an exception

[alicenpai]

princess tutu: die jahreszeiten 🌸

kind of a companion piece to my 2022 ptutu drawing | it's on inprnt

this print was at anime north; next con is otakuthon!

oops so my hand slipped and i made another princess tutu drawing. i admittedly don't watch that much anime so my catalogue of work is gonna be the same 5 animes LMAO. what can i say, i love "dark" fairy tales, and i've been really enjoying the more fine art approach to a lot of my drawings as of late (and the watercolour brush i've been using has been so perfect for that...!)

as my first princess tutu drawing is now 2 years old, there are some areas i've grown to have ... qualms with... although both drawings as a whole are pretty much exactly what i envisioned, and that's always satisfying!

both of these were drawn in roughly a week's time (yes really...) for con crunch period (and i went back to this drawing after the con to touch up some areas that were a bit rough!). i wanted a different approach to this new pt drawing, with the focus on the line work, rather than on colours and lighting in the 2022 drawing.

this drawing had 2 goals: to continue the style i adopted in my witch hat atelier "lantern bearers" drawing (which i promise i'll post in full soon as soon as all of the zine artists get their go-ahead to post their pieces!), and to emulate the art nouveau movement's heavy emphasis on line work, albeit not a 1:1 style replication of course.

the seasons also aren't a 1:1 representation, as i didn't necessarily pick flowers or colours that are most strongly associated with the season (e.g. summer being a dark tone is a bold choice?). but it's kinda whatever, as i said before i drew this in a week, there may be more appropriate flowers with better meanings. i couldn't spend too too much time drafting and researching.

FLOWER SYMBOLISM:

- spring: apple blossoms, tulips - the apple blossom is a quintessential spring flower, and thus symbolize the arrival of spring. spring is a season of change, which ahiru/princess tutu is a force of, instigating change in her friends and unravelling the story around her. the flowers below her are tulips, and there are many meanings to tulips depending on the colour, due to their ubiquitous nature. i narrowed on one, and intended for them to symbolize happiness. princess tutu's pose is one in which that is open, inviting, and warm - reflecting her nurturing nature in the series, and her willingness to help others achieve happiness.

- summer: deadly nightshade flower, yellow rose - i chose for rue/princess kraehe to symbolize a fiery summer's night instead of the typical dazzling heat of a summer's day, a rather bold and unusual choice. the warmth of sunshine didn't quite fit, as the character is quite dramatic and passionate, with her intentions often hidden in shadow. next, the deadly nightshade - atropa belladonna - has a lot of mythological associations, a lot to do with poisoning, as the flower is toxic. the flowers bloom at night (another reason why i picked a nighttime backdrop for "summer") and also outwardly match rue's dark design scheme, as the cherry on top. yellow roses, at the bottom of her frame, are the archetypal flower depicting jealousy (as with many yellow flowers are), and at one point in the story, rue only wished for her own happiness at the misfortune of others.

- autumn: douglas fir needles, orange calla lily - autumn is another season of change - although much more tumultuous, as this season is traditionally taken to prepare for a long winter ahead - fitting for fakir as the role of the storyteller. the douglas fir is not a flower of course, but is a tree - with many different parts of this tree offering many benefits in advance of the winter season. i wanted the versatile nature of the douglas fir to reflect on fakir's dependable personality. next up, the calla lily is a flower with a dual meaning - on one hand you have life, on the other you have death. a storyteller quite literally can grant both at the tip of their fingers.

- winter: birch tree, snowdrop - winter is a rather still and unchanging season, a lull in the passage of time. this symbolizes mytho's passive nature at the start of the series, especially with his doleful pose here, as if almost in hibernation. to contrast, mytho is perched on the branches of a birch tree, which means new beginnings and renewal - as mytho is one of the characters that undergo the most change throughout the series (i'd argue the most?), regaining pieces of his heart. under mytho's frame is the snowdrop flower - and if you've read my witch hat atelier: seasons piece symbolisms, one of the snowdrop's meanings is rebirth, with connotations to the bible, bringing hope, when all had forsaken eve. the snowdrop is one of the first flowers to bloom even when the snow has not yet fully melted, further echoing mytho as an analogy for rebirth.

[wawek]

They are so beautiful... like magical cities...

[cerealmonster15]

jamiazu / ashenviper week day 2: potionology!!!

Ummm teacher why isn’t their nefarious concoction’s smoke cloud turning into a skull and crossbones like the rest of ours 🤨

[ellilyre]

Whenever I'm having a bad day I picture Diomedes coming back from the battlefield completely soaked in blood head to toes like you can't even see his armour underneath

[doubledyke]

another unfinished eddy cuz i can't get the rest of the outfit to look the way i want 😮‍💨

[smolcatpilot]

Was thinking up a new sona and came up with this! :3

[ruelpsen]

Oh lord, new idea that popped into my head regarding kinky alien headcanon shenanigans (try saying that five times fast): foods that aren't the nicest to human stomachs, but with a twist. Turns out that they're stubborn for anyone to digest, including the species that natively eat them.

Picturing a scenario with myself and my fave. He's gone out for a bit, but allowed me to chill in his room while I wait for him to return. I'm a little hungry, so I grab some food from his fridge- I'm not totally sure what it is, but it looks tasty and isn't something I've ever seen on the list of foods humans should avoid. I take a bite, and it's good...

Ten minutes later, though, he returns to find me sprawled out on his couch, moaning between belches as I rub my bloated belly. The half-finished plate is next to me, and he instantly, chidingly, teasingly puts two and two together:

"My, it looks like someone's bitten off a little more than he can chew. What did I tell you about trying foods from the homeworld?"

"Not to- urrrrp- without asking first."

"Precisely. Had you waited just a little longer, I could have warned you this would happen... not that that would stop you in the end given that..." he gestures to me as I happily rub my belly and burp into my fist. "That this would happen." He sits down next to me, picking up the plate and taking a bite for himself. "You really ought to be more careful, though. You got lucky this time, but there are other dishes my people eat that would make any human quite sick!"

He pauses for a second, thumps his chest once, and belches loudly. Despite my soreness, I can't help but giggle. He smiles and winks, damn well knowing how hot I think he is in this moment.

"For that matter, though, this dish isn't as kind to us, either... perhaps not quite to your degree, but it still does odd things to our stomachs. Not that we're ones to complain about a little extra belching, though!"

He takes another bite for himself before reaching over to caress me, working up a sizeable belch in the process before belching again himself. Something was telling me today's fun was only just beginning...

[fishyfarms]

NO WAY!! Your art is so yummy and you offered an OC doodle? Insane!! Here, take Farmer Dee. My chronically late doing their best farmer!

Theres other portraits and some facts about them on my blog if you wish!

YOU ARS SO SWEET OMG TY FOR HANDING ME DEE I LOVE THEM DEARLY!!! I love that they’re smitten with both of the town gingers I too am enraptured by Leah’s beauty to the point that I cannot speak….ALSO their winter outfit is just so cute the earmuffs are so important to me so I hope you don’t mind me drawing them wearing them!!!! They’re so cute fr fr ty again for sending in a request!!! 🫶🫶🫶

[codacheetah]

5 for the isat ask game!

5 - What's your favorite optional event?

VERY TOUGH ONE TO ANSWER. I'm gonna go right ahead and disqualify twohats bc it's a predictable answer. If I had to choose just one though I think it'd probably be the sus event. It really got my goat on my first playthrough bc I didn't realize you had to do it in ACT 4. If I remember correctly I think sus is the only optional event locked to ACT 4??? Now that I've actually done it though I'm quite fond of it.

Sus event is one that you really have to go out of your way to do. It kind of reminds me of the True Ending in SASASAP but More and I'm sure that's intentional. Like the requirements for sus quest necessitate that you're going to do it, if not the loop before ACT 5, very soon before it. You have to know pretty much everything about Time Craft and Wish Craft already, so whatever you're doing in the loops now is basically taking out any optional stuff before you hit the end. You have to pretty thoroughly remember how the script goes just so you know all the best ways to break it. I feel like if the True Ending route is Loop going through the motions so many times that they can't deal with holding their facade together any longer, the sus route is Siffrin waving a big red flag around for help. There's just no way you're going to stumble into sus without preplanning what to do to rack up your points and make Odile aware of how Wish Craft works.

So I think it's interesting how much Siffrin pushes back against Odile trying to figure him out. It's a pattern of behavior that I am well aware of where you're desperately going "HELP ME" but you're not willing to accept it when it's offered to you.

Siffrin spends an entire loop screwing everything up, to a point that's frankly kind of egregious even by Late Stage Timeloopers standards, and then they can't reckon with the consequences of it. I don't think sus event is as intentional of a cry for help for Siffrin as it is the player, mind you. But I do think it's. Very tragic. Yeah of course "it's too late" in the sense that Siffrin's about to talk to Euphie and the whole journey will end, but moreso it's that by the time that Odile can piece together all the information necessary to figure Siffrin out, Siffrin is just far too deeply entrenched in his self hatred and fear of abandonment to be dug out. I think if Odile could somehow figure it out in, like, early ACT 3, or if Isabeau was just a bit more pushy in getting Siffrin to do a feelings talk, maybe they'd actually be able to reach Siffrin a little. But they're always just a little too late, every single time.

I think the fact that you start really getting a bunch of weird points in ACT 3 gives this event a lot of buildup. For potential dozens of loops you'll see Odile brush against the truth of the situation, and then just barely miss. By the time she figures it out, it's too late. Explodes

Expounded upon slightly more in tags bc I don't like typing in post bodies I feel like a fish on land. eek

[alackofghosts]

they're so silly 🥹

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Imagine Angelica telling all her girlfriends about Johnny and them wanting to see him.

(Translated from Kkkkk.)

"So?" Tamara of the Hill inquires, her head tilted with curiosity but her mouth wide with knowing. "And how did you last meeting with Johnny of the Storm go?"

Angelica had never been so aware of her body until Johnny. The bodies of her people were simply that—bodies made for redundancy. Made for purpose. Tools. It does not feel practical the way that her face heats, but she enjoys it all the same. Because she is thinking of her Johnny, of the moon he gifted her, and of everything else that he gifted her, too, in the quiet of the evening that they spent together. (Though, with a thought, perhaps it was not that quiet.)

Jacqueline of the Wood gasps and then shrieks. Her clicks reach the peak of the highest mountains and she shakes with her excitement. "Angelica!" She laughs. "What did your Johnny do this time?"

Belonging is the way of her people. Although, perhaps one day they might be strangers, they have no intention of treating strangers in the way that the humans say strangers are sometimes treated. There is no fear of other nor scorn of different. There is sameness alongside the newness of their exploration. Of their knowledge. But they will always belong to Kkkkk and amongst her people.

That means that possession is not common amongst them. They belong, but not much belongs to them. It is their way to share freely, to share gladly. Angelica finds that, although she is no different, there are certain things that she would not share, now that there is Johnny.

Johnny of the Storm has a smile that must belong to everyone. That must be given freely. His laugh is a gift given without weight. Without effort. But the moon of his palm, that is Angelica's. The pressure of his...what was the word...fingertips? Those, too, are Angelica's.

"He gave me a moon," Angelica practices the click of her tongue. It is an odd, foreign word, but it had meant so much to Johnny when he spoke of it. It had meant so much to be gifted it.

"What's a moon?" Tamara inquires again, though this time the smile has softened and the curiosity has heightened.

Angelica hums for a moment in thought before her clicks resume. "It is romantic." This is a word that has a place in her tongue, but it has never had a place in her heart before.

"Can we see it?" Jacqueline attempts to peer behind Angelica, as if she is hiding it from sight.

"No," Angelica grins. "It comes from his hand."

Tamara's grin turns salacious. "I bet it's not the only thing that comes from his hand."

"Tamara!" Jacqueline shrieks again, though this time laughter has found its way into the excitement. "You're so terrible! Besides, Johnny of the Storm is a human. They have no kkkKkkk."

With a smile she must compress, Angelica shakes her head. "No, it is no kkkKkkk."

At once, Tamara and Jacqueline swivel their heads to meet Angelica's gaze. Their friendly bickering silenced. And although it was Angelica to initiate such talks about her intimacy with her Johnny, she feels all at once shy now. She clears her throat, but no clicks come out before Tamara and Jacqueline descend upon her.

"You mean you kkKKkkK before we've even met him?" Tamara gasps, though there is no offense in her tone. Only joy. It makes Angelica click in response, and Tamara laughs. "Angelica!"

"He is very sweet, and funny," Angelica says as she often has. "I am sorry that you haven't met him yet."

Jacqueline clicks in a tone that expresses humor. "You've been enjoying your time alone with him. We can't fault you that. But, can't we meet him now? It's been kkkkkk!"

"Months," Angelica clicks carefully. It's always been easy to learn new words from the humans. She treasures each one, sharing them with glee. This word is unique, in that its encounter is the only thing amongst the evening that Angelica is so willing to share. But, perhaps that is inaccurate, too, because Angelica wants everyone to know how her Johnny makes her feel. Even if she wants to be the only person to see him as he was. To kkKKkkK with.

"Months," Tamara repeats. "You talk just like them now! Shouldn't we see him, so we can kkkKK? Isn't that our right as your clutch without blood?"

Angelica hesitates for a moment. "I could ask him, if he would like to join us for dinner."

"If he is as you say he is, he wouldn't dare say no," Jacqueline pitches again, limbs jittering.

"No, I doubt that he would," Angelica jitters alongside her, and excitement is a new flavor on her tongue.

Tamara's smile dims as the dying lights do, and she tilts her head once again. "Have you spoken with him, about what will happen when he goes?"

There is a kindness to Tamara's words, even if they subdue the joy of the moment. Angelica understands her intent. "Not yet," Angelica answers with a click, "but that doesn't matter to me. I...think I love him."

Once more Jacqueline and Tamara giggle, clicking excitedly as Angelica's skin blooms with heat. And there is the future to think of, choices that must be made—but those are for the future. As for now, in the present, Angelica will experience joy. Laughter. Love. And, even if they are stars apart, those stars are Angelica's gift to Johnny. Just as his moon is to her.

[kwillow]

Happy Halloween. To mark this holiday, I drew the scariest monster of all: a sparkly vampire.

[nr1carambaceo]

Sigma sigma on the wall who's the skibidiest of them all😋

Okay I have to admit I really gotta stop posting something and then vanish chat😞😞🙏🙏

Anyways have some human caramba doodles and one with his exo skeleton because I just came up with a new design for bro but my art hasn't been arting recently so mb if the art looks like it got high

Again for like the 4th time or so I'm sorry for disappearing a lot my interest for Zak storm kept coming and going away because I just got back interested into ninjago but dw gang my interest for Zak storm will never leave🔥🔥🔥🙏🙏

Also mb for the design of carambas clothes it still not rlly decided how I want it so mb🙏🙏

[tickle-bugs]

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.