#I fantasize about it sure
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
twilight-deviant · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Context: After getting character hate on my gifset, I added a comment in the reply section kindly asking people to not put character hate in the tags of my gifset. (Which, I'm learning... may be a crime...)
Are you for real? I'm not out here making gifs like it's some sort of public service. lol! 😂 I'm nowhere near so magnanimous. I'll be as partial as I want. I can, and I am, and I will be.
I gif things I like.
For me.
I gif them for me.
I share them in case other people are interested. (I often like things in atypical ways, and if I can give another fan a drink of water in the desert, that's great.) Same principle with my art and fics. Sometimes they get attention and sometimes they don't. I'm fine either way because all of it is created, first and foremost, by me for me. (Unless expressly stated that it is a gift.) If I see it, then the target audience is reached. So when I make something (for me), no, I don't want to see negativity on it. And that's my right. I'm allowed to not like that when I spend an afternoon making a gifset and there are tags like "[favorite character] should die." I'm allowed to say I would prefer not seeing more of that.
But in your mind, I should grin and bear it and... Well, I'm not even sure what the upside is. I'm not much into suffering for strangers. (You know I'm not getting paid per gif, right?)
If you can't abide by one ridiculously tiny rule, just don't reblog my stuff. That means it's simply not FOR YOU! It's not for you to use as a conduit and canvas for character hate. If you are emotionally incapable of reblogging something without putting hate on it when asked, that is a you problem. Kindly keep your problems away from me and my stuff.
.............I say this, but sadly anon can no longer hear me. 🤧 Because I blocked them after I took the screenshot. (Thank you, tumblr, for the block anonymous feature.) RIP, anon. But since you are blocked, you won't have to worry about seeing my gifsets anymore, the ones that make you grind your teeth because the creator asked you not to hate on their favorite character on their own post. You shall not be missed.
PS:
I never said people have to like Fisk. I've been a fan of the character for 9 years. I'm quite aware of the fact people don't like him. I only asked that they not brag about hating him on my post. You understand these two things are separate, right? Tell me you understand they're different things. If they want to make their own post and cuss him to Hell and back, that's their prerogative. They can do it elsewhere.
"The show is about Maya." Big duh. But did you know... fans can favor someone who is... not the main character? (While still liking the MC, of course.) If this weren't your first fandom, you might know that. Honestly, someone's favorite character being the MC is often a rarity. If E-cho were longer and fleshed out their characters more, I'm sorry to say there would be even less focus on Maya. Because obsessing over secondary characters is what fandom does best.
Nope, don't believe you like Fisk. Maybe in an abstract way. Maybe thinking he's a good villain. But if you're getting this mad at me for not wanting to see hate about him on content I created specifically to showcase him, no way you like Fisk.
2 notes · View notes
serial-unaliver · 6 days ago
Text
it's actually really sad how sometimes adverse experience IS what makes you compassionate and sheltering can correlate with poor development of cognitive empathy, which is why there is an observable "out of touch" attitude in some people. however, i'm not one of those "people have it too good and need to suffer" types, I simply think you should ensure your children are aware of struggles they don't directly experience. and that's why it's concerning to see a sort of mindset among some leftists in the imperial core where any form of discomfort is avoided.
350 notes · View notes
sergle · 3 months ago
Text
talking about the topic of animated movies not Hitting, I accidentally reminded myself of one time on twitter, I think around the time that Raya came out?? I was poopooing on how much the dragon looks like elsa, and then talked about how I wish 2d animated and hand animated films were still The Medium instead of nothing but the highest resolution skin texture fur textured 3d animated films bc I'm tired of seeing it, etc etc and then someone who I was not mutuals with, they must've been someone working under the disney IP in some form, and must've either done some work on raya or just worked on 3d animated projects in general, replied to me SEVERAL TIMES as if I was subtweeting them, with something to the tone of "just say you hate me and you think my art is trash" and I think about that ALL the time
153 notes · View notes
sadlynotthevoid · 4 months ago
Note
I need og! Cale biblically, I need him in a way that's concerning to feminism.
Must be his fabulousness and cheeky charm.
Don't worry. It's a common decease.
Just the other day I had a dream where a bunch of nobles and Og!Cale where kidnapped and the kidnappers tried to use Og!Cale in a archaic ritual.
Why him? Because he realized the guy in charge was looking towards the children and he didn't want to take the risk to see if he was going to go towards them or not. So he pissed him off on purpose interrupting him and predicting what he was going to say, just to prove he was too predictable.
Everyone thought he was going to die when the guy grabbed him instead (just how he planned it). But he uno reversed card and hijacked their ritual to make an antique Thames coming of age ceremony.
For some reason, almost every Thames family thing has security measures against no-Thames beings (yes, beings). Which means Cale was fine, but the all the cultist guys passed out painfully.
Though, that was still a long not used ritual Og!Cale only heard about once and read parts about it. He didn't know what it was for, just that it wasn't noxious.
Knowing how strange his maternal family was, that didn't reduce it much. So, he was ready for almost anything coming off from it.
A make over and a question mark added to his humanity was quite light, actually.
"How—"
"No."
"Young mas—"
"Nu-uh."
"But—"
"Shhh. Not the time."
One would thought that kidnap victims— nobles or not— would have more important things to do than stare at him like he had grown a pair wings. Yes, he did. Two pairs, indeed. But there were still more urgent matters at hand.
Like getting out of here.
At least they could help searching their belongings. It's not like they couldn't see with all the glow he's radiating.
Ah.
"Lily, come here! I found the keys."
Anyways, he had a lot of shiny lines all over his skin that looked like liquid ink (no idea what the use for it was) and the dragon-fly long ass wings only dissapeared after he thought hard about it.
Have a nice day.
49 notes · View notes
salty-an-disco · 8 months ago
Text
just had a realization as to why I find the Leave as Gods ending pretty chill and something I’d actually wouldn’t mind doing–
I’m nonbiney, xenogender, and relate more to abstract concepts than my own body, becoming a concept too great for anyone but yourselves and your literal soulmate to understand is literally my dream lmao.
45 notes · View notes
lelianasbong · 4 months ago
Text
i would read soo much more het if the dynamic didn't always, always, ALWAYS default to Domly McDom Man and an I've-Never-Done-Thiiis-Before 🥺 Ingenue. not even asking for femdom it's just wild to me that that's just the, assumed/desirable/expected romantic dynamic between all men and all women
if a grown man called me good girl i don't know whether i'd laugh at him or punch him in the throat
23 notes · View notes
doberbutts · 1 year ago
Text
Like on one hand I'm like 👎👎👎 RPF 🤢🤮 gross and weird 😒🤨
But on the other hand I like historical fiction and historical fantasy and what is that if not literal actual real person fiction/fantasy...
100 notes · View notes
necrotic-nephilim · 1 month ago
Note
WOAH Bruce not only feeding that assumption in steph but planting the seed of it by saying something about Jason while he’s behind her and they’re looking at the memorial case together. Like this being after a build up of like you said him being harsh with her training “you didn’t match those fingerprints fast enough they could’ve matched 50 in 40 seconds you took almost twice that” but being kind while he’s physically touching her. Bruce standing behind steph, not to the side but directly behind, with his hand on her shoulder and the hand drops down to squeeze her arms and steph looks down at it and turns around and kisses him. I think if steph sent a post coitus pic to Bruce he wouldn’t even get mad he’d just get horny thinking about them together. Thank you for the photo steph can I get one in your robin costumes next time
(based on this post and this post) oh my god. your vision anon. i was going to just build off of this with headcanons but the scene you described i cannot get out of my head so uh have a fic that's 6k and far longer than it should've been with vanilla sex that somehow is very dead dove anyway, also crossposted on ao3. ily i would guard you with my life- <3
When Stephanie thought about Bruce, she remembered skin that tasted like salt and brimstone. She remembered warm hands that held her more gently than she'd probably ever be held again. She remembered a cold voice that was more cruel to her than anyone had ever been.
Which, given who her father was, Stephanie personally found that to be a pretty fucking impressive feat.
She remembered a lot of things about Bruce. So many memories sat on her tongue and threatened to spill out whenever she opened her mouth.
Memories like Bruce's hand on her shoulder, giving her another lesson she never got to use before dying.
"You didn't match those fingerprints fast enough," Bruce said. He was unforgiving, and Stephanie didn't have to be looking at him to know his features were painted in disappointment. She scowled and focused harder on the slides in front of her, ignoring him. When she didn't answer, he twisted the knife deeper. "Tim could've matched almost fifty in forty seconds. You took twice that."
It was always Tim being dangled like a carrot in front of Stephanie's face. So many times had Stephanie wanted to twist around and snap at Bruce that he wasn't the only one who lost someone when Tim had to quit being Robin. Bruce wasn't the only one with a gaping hole in his chest that couldn't be filled.
At least Bruce had Stephanie trying to fill his loss. It wasn't like anyone had stepped up for her.
Stephanie's grip on a fingerprint slide tightened until she was sure the glass would crack. "Did Tim have you breathing down his neck the whole time, making unnecessary commentary?" Her snark could cost her this role she fought so hard for.
After hours of useless training that didn't even involve punching things, Stephanie wasn't sure if she cared about that.
It took a silent, brooding moment before Bruce answered. "In the field, you won't always be afforded an undisturbed working space. But you also can't tune out distractions that could cost your life."
If she could, Stephanie would punch Bruce. If she thought her fist had the slightest chance of actually connecting with his face before he dodged or deflected it, there would already be a satisfying crunch of bone against bone echoing through the cave. Just the mental image of it made Stephanie almost smile.
She took a slow breath.
"Point taken," Stephanie said carefully. She set the glass slide down, flexing her hand that still itched for violence. Another cruel comment was on her lips when Bruce's hand started massaging her shoulder. The touch was so gentle it forced tension out of her muscles, and Stephanie sighed. "Are we done?"
"No," Bruce was icy, lacking any emotion. "We need to go over your lackluster decoding skills again." His other hand came to rest on her other shoulder, massaging in tandem. It was an electric touch she wanted to lean into.
"For fuck's sake!" Stephanie threw her hands up, then dropped her head into them, rubbing her temples. "What has it been, four hours? We haven't even eaten."
The shadow Bruce cast over her just seemed to grow, engulfing every inch of Stephanie's existence. "This job isn't one that comes with luxuries. And it's a job you asked for," he reminded her. His thumbs were working into Stephanie's neck, perfectly pressing out a stiffness she'd been harboring for weeks. She couldn't stop herself from pressing into the touch. "If you lose even once... you lose things you can't afford to lose. Things I can't afford to lose."
Stephanie looked up from the desk. Her gaze snagged on the memorial case that loomed over her every time she walked into the case. The name that was carefully carved into the plate at the bottom of a boy she never even got to know.
Because he was what Bruce lost.
"You're not going to lose me." Stephanie turned her head to face Bruce, giving him a much kinder look than she'd been wearing just seconds ago. One of Bruce's hands drifted down to hold her bicep. "You know that, right? I know what you've already lost, but I can be better than that."
It was gently possessive. Like, at any moment, she could evaporate, and he would be alone again. For all his flaws, Bruce sure as hell knew how to tug on Stephanie's fragile heartstrings.
"You have no idea what I've lost." Bruce's voice actually broke, like he was a marble statue cracking, every grove held a story. Real emotion, real pain beyond her comprehension. That was a rare thing. Stephanie studied the way his face shifted. She tried to remember all the training he'd given her about noticing small changes and what they meant.
Sorrow and pain in his brow. Worry and tension in the thin pressed line of his mouth.
Love in his eyes. A familiar love Stephanie knew better than anyone.
But he wasn't looking at Stephanie. He was looking at the memorial case.
"Oh," Stephanie realized out loud, eyes going wide. "I didn't know- oh. I'm so sorry, Bruce."
Bruce's gaze snapped away from the case all too abruptly, as if he'd revealed far too much to Stephanie in a single instant. His eyes were guarded again, and he stared down at her with a tense expression, stroking her skin with his thumb.
It was stupid, that Stephanie had never considered this... thing with Bruce to be a unique thing. Maybe she liked the naivety of feeling special in how Bruce showed her attention. She was never going to be the only Robin, definitely never going to be the best Robin, but she had always assumed she was the only one Bruce loved, like that.
The lining of jealousy calling her bones was put out by sympathy for Bruce. The loss of Jason was worse, if that was how he and Bruce were. It was more than losing a sidekick.
It was losing a lover.
Was Tim the same? Probably. Undoubtedly, Stephanie decided. And Dick, the way Bruce talked about them. She'd always known Tim and Bruce were weirdly entangled in ways it wasn't her business to understand, but now, the pieces clicked further into place.
And in one way or another, Bruce had lost all of them.
Now here she was.
No wonder her training was thankless. She could die or leave him at any moment, in Bruce's eyes.
Stephanie properly turned around, spinning her chair. Facing him fully, none of Stephanie's concern was hidden from Bruce. He answered it with a frown, running his fingers through her hair and cupping her face. Stephanie looked at the hand as it lingered on her body. Like Bruce couldn't force himself to pull away. Like he knew he was being selfish, putting her in danger.
But Stephanie wasn't fragile. She had what other Robins didn't. Experience on the field, doing this on her own without Batman. Who knew how strong she could be under his touch, how she’d blossom.
Stephanie stood up and touched Bruce's face. She had to stand on her toes to do it, but she kissed him. Gave him the moment he always needed to go from stiff and overthinking to melting into Stephanie's touch. He kissed back and licked his tongue into her mouth, like she was a decadent food he was savoring.
How he always tasted the same, salty and earthy, Stephanie would never know. She'd add it to the tally of mysteries about Bruce Wayne.
Bruce's hand drifted down to Stephanie's waist. Then, like something out of a movie, He brushed aside all the fingerprint slides, letting some clatter to the floor so he could pick her up around her hips and set her on the table. She was raised up enough that she didn't have to strain to reach his mouth now, letting them deepen the kiss.
For a while, they stayed like that. Kissing and hands wandering. Stephanie slipped her hand under Bruce's cotton t-shirt, feeling against hard muscle and a bandage over a deep cut that had needed stitches only a few days ago. A part of Stephanie wanted to push her fingers under the medical tape, just so she could feel where the cut was. Press her fingers up against the painful wound, exploring where Bruce's flesh ripped open and paid the price for his sloppy actions, as he would put it.
But she didn't. Stephanie did her best to keep the more inhumane parts of herself out of reach from Bruce so he wouldn't scrutinize them and make her feel like more of a failure.
Bruce ran a hand up the inside of Stephanie's thigh until he found the zipper of her jeans and just rested his thumb there. His other hand was cupping one of her breasts in a hold that wasn't nearly tight enough for Stephanie's tastes. It was such a cruel thing, how he was rough and unforgiving with his words, but treated her like a doll about to break whenever he fucked her.
Just once, Stephanie would give anything to fuck the Batman and hear words from Bruce Wayne. Not the other way around.
If she told Bruce that, there was a non-zero chance he would throw her in Arkham for it. He'd told her at length how relationships with women like Catwoman failed because they wanted him to be gentle in places he couldn't be.
He found gentleness for Stephanie in those places, though.
Bruce trailed kisses down Stephanie's throat. She tilted her head back to give him better access for sucking colorful marks into her skin, making her shudder. Her body begged for more where her voice failed her.
"Are you hungry?" Bruce asked, his voice vibrating against her skin.
Stephanie's head was swimming. "What?"
She swore she felt him smile against her throat. "You pointed out we haven't eaten. Do you need dinner, Stephanie?"
"Oh, you bastard." Stephanie smacked his arm, and he let her. "Later. We can order Chinese or something after this."
"Good." Bruce's voice dropped a dangerous octave. He always found some covert way to ask for her consent without directly asking for it. Just another part of his mind games she would never understand.
His hands pushed under her shirt. He pulled away from the kiss long enough to pull it up over her head, exposing Stephanie's plain white bra. She fantasized about being the type of girl who wore fancy lingerie for an older man like Bruce, but that wasn't something for Stephanie's shallow pockets.
She knew she could ask Bruce. He'd probably fall over himself for the chance to buy her lingerie. He always said yes when it came to money things, and even offered her a debit card attached to one of his smaller accounts. Which, in Bruce's language, meant an account with only a couple million instead of hundreds of millions.
But Stephanie always said no. She needed some side of her life to keep to herself without Bruce influencing it.
She needed Bruce to know she could still hold herself above water without him.
Her fingers buried in his short hair, carding through the soft, dark strands that still had the scent of his sandalwood shampoo. If he grew his hair out, it would probably have a faint curl pattern, like the pictures Stephanie had seen of Martha Wayne, from back in the day. It was a shame he kept it so short.
"How are your ribs?" Bruce asked, his fingers brushing over the still purple bruise and making Stephanie wince.
"Fine," she insisted, wiping the pain off her face. She had been the one stupid enough to take a punch from a Riddler goon, of all people. She didn't need Bruce pointing out her failures now.
He didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't push it. Bruce just bent over to press soft kisses over the marks, like he thought his love could heal her. If it could, it would've by now. Just the thought made Stephanie shiver and relax more into his touch.
One of his hands snuck behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. Stephanie shifted her shoulders, and it fell to the ground.
Bruce latched his mouth around one of her nipples. Stephanie groaned and pulled his hair. He always let her be rough, if she needed it. Her nails left angry red marks down his back, and she held onto him so tightly there were bruises. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Stephanie was pretty sure Bruce liked the marks as much as she did, proof that she'd laid claim to him as much as he'd claimed her.
Their relationship was one of reciprocity if nothing else.
It was a maddening tease to have Bruce's mouth on her flesh. He kneaded her other breast with a strong hand that had crushed bones, brushing across her nipple until it was standing upright and there were goosebumps on her flesh. She wanted to stay like this forever, having the goddamn Batman worshipping her skin.
She needed more, though.
Stephanie unbuttoned her own jeans and shimmied them down. They were barely past her hips when Bruce grabbed her wrist.
"What have I told you about patience?" Despite everything, he used the same tone he would've if he was scolding her about rushing into a mission too quickly.
"You're a bastard," Stephanie was breathless just from the few touches he'd given her. Heat was pooling between her legs and she needed to alleviate the pressure somehow, like expressing an infected wound. Sometimes, Stephanie's cunt felt less like a sacred hole for pleasure and more like a bleeding gash that she needed Bruce to provide triage for. He fucked her with the same intimacy that he dressed her stab wounds, finding the gaping flesh and pressing into it until there was finally relief.
Bruce probably didn't see it that way. Stephanie didn't care.
He dared to laugh against her skin, deep and rough. "Relax. Trust your body. Trust me." His voice was so steady and firm, it was hard not to lean against.
Stephanie huffed, but bit her tongue. "At least take your shirt off. Fair is fair."
A gruff hum came out of Bruce, but he complied, pulling away to shuck the garment and give Stephanie one of her favorite views. Like watching a sunset over the Gotham horizon, every time she saw Bruce's naked skin was just a little different. The same gorgeous sight, but if her eyes wandered she would find all the new little scars, the older scars that were fading more, the ever-shifting wall of muscle that didn't look one bit human.
Stephanie groped his chest, running her fingers over coarse hairs that Bruce sometimes shaved, and sometimes didn't. She preferred the natural look, the same way she preferred when he went a few days without shaving. It made him just a touch animalistic.
He went back to devouring her skin with his mouth and hands. Stephanie was at Bruce's mercy as he kissed, sucked, and licked his way across the dips and valleys of her body. He was reverently gentle over her scars with soft kisses. Then he sank his teeth into sensitive places Stephanie never knew she had. The skin under her breasts, the stretch marks over her hip dips that had never quite gone back to normal after she gave birth.
The world spun around them and somehow, Stephanie was the only thing that mattered to Bruce.
When Bruce seemed pleased with the soft marks he'd covered her in, his hands finally pushed Stephanie's pants down the rest of the way, and he helped her kick them off with her shoes.
Then, he got on his knees.
Stephanie's eyes were wide, and her face turned a soft shade of red that matched the hickeys on her chest. "I haven't waxed-"
Bruce arched an eyebrow at her and pushed her knees open. "I don't care."
She didn't know what it was about Bruce, but Stephanie was always too shy about her body around him, expecting him to scrutinize it for the same faults he found in the rest of her. The first time they kissed, she started waxing that same night, from her pubic mound to her asshole, just so she would be smooth for him. She shaved more often, bought a nicer perfume, and tried her hair in styles she never would've worn before. It made Stephanie feel childish, but she could never stop herself.
She needed to be good for him.
Proving the point in his words, Bruce started kissing Stephanie's thigh. He left marks there, too, working his way closer and closer to her cunt. Stephanie could feel her heart rate spiking as the cold air hit her vagina. She was digging her nails into his scalp, too deeply, she realized. But like always, Bruce didn't seem to mind.
Finally, he made his way to his destination.
Bruce's tongue was hotter than a brand over Stephanie's cunt. She gasped and jerked. Every time, it never failed to make her dizzy. It was a reminder how inexperienced Stephanie was at sex. She offered to give him head and without fail, Bruce always said no.
Yet, he did things with his mouth that Stephanie didn't know were fucking possible.
Bruce licked his way inside of Stephanie, pressing his tongue as deep as it would go and flicking upward. A groan ripped out of Stephanie, and she was practically grinding on Bruce's face for more.
He used his hands to pull her folds open for better access. If Stephanie tried closing her legs, Bruce just pushed them back open with his elbows. He forced her on display for him, whining and squirming for desperate pleasure from his mouth.
"Bruce," Stephanie moaned, eyes fluttering. It was a simple pleasure, but an overwhelming one, hard to even look at Bruce without losing herself to it. Every time Stephanie looked down, those piercing blue eyes were locked on her, drinking up her reactions.
It was fucking intimidating, was what it was.
He moved his mouth upward and Stephanie shattered. Chapped lips wrapped around her clit and sucked until Stephanie's eyes were rolling into the back of her head. He flicked and twisted his tongue in ways that shouldn't have been humanly possible to send sparks up her spine. It was like getting shocked over and over again.
His fingers pressed inside of her hole, arching up. It was nothing like being finger banged by a horny teenage boy behind the bleachers and all the other clumsy sexual interactions that crowded Stephanie's youth. This was a touch with experience, fingers curling inside of her with movements that went for precision instead of speed or force. Like Bruce knew he didn't have to rush Stephanie's pleasure, he just had to find the right spots to tug at until he unraveled her.
"Fuck, Bruce!" Stephanie grabbed onto the end of the table and thanked every god that she didn't have super strength, because if she did, the metal would've crumpled under the force she put behind her grip. "You... you're going to drive me fucking insane... Bruce-" She canted her hips up to chase more pleasure. Her body was greedy, making up for how shy her mind wanted her to be.
There was a gleam in his eyes when she managed to look down again. She could see how smug he was about knowing it was only his touch that could reduce her to this, naked with pleasure dripping out of her.
She was going to make a mess of the table. The last time she did that, Bruce gently guided her to her knees and pressed her face into the slick puddle until Stephanie got the message without a single spoken order. Licking up her own cum while Bruce had fucked her behind, a hand around her throat.
That memory was one she still jerked off to. It was too rare for Stephanie to get those wilder, kinkier inclinations out of Bruce, no matter how much she begged for his dirty fantasies she knew he was thinking about every time he looked at her.
One day she'd convince him to do whatever he was thinking about the time he stared at her a little too hard when she was trying to get out of those handcuffs.
The thought of that alone had Stephanie's pleasure rushing toward its crest, and her noises got higher and more desperate. Bruce couldn't say anything, with his mouth locked around her clit and still working it so well, but he stroked her thigh with his thumb as if he was encouraging her to let go.
It may as well have been an order.
And Stephanie obeyed.
She pulled hard on Bruce's hair and clamped her thighs tight around his skull, holding him there. Bruce didn't force them open this time, he just let her body take what it needed. Stephanie was almost positive a third finger pushed inside of her to join the first two filling her as she hit the peak of her orgasm.
A scream tore free from her lungs. She kicked uselessly, one foot accidentally hitting one of Bruce's shoulders. He was a concrete wall, though, not moving or even flinching from it. He just kept licking and sucking and looking through his dark curls to stare at her as she howled. Stephanie tried to say Bruce's name, she tried to tell him how good it felt, but all the words got lost in translation. All she could do was hold onto him and ride through every electric wave, hoping he understood.
Of course, he did. He always did.
Just as Stephanie reached the peak of pleasure and tipped into overstimulation, Bruce pulled off of her clit. He looked almost disappointed by it, staring briefly at her soaked, pink folds. Like he wanted to stay there and make her suffer and beg for reprieve.
If Stephanie had any sense to her, she would've pouted about him not doing just that.
At least his fingers stayed inside of her. They weren't moving anymore, but they were a warm pressure, keeping her full and satiated as her body went boneless. Bruce studied her and watched Stephanie hold herself up with her arm to keep from flopping onto the table and passing out right there.
"Fuck me," Stephanie said, already knowing that Bruce was debating it. Sometimes he fucked her after he ate her out, sometimes he didn't- no matter how she begged for it. Even when she could see the tent in his pants. The time she'd begged particularly hard, he laid her out on his bed and told her to stay still and just jerked off on her tits, as if to prove some kind of point she didn't understand.
She did understand, though, how fucking hot it had been to have his spent pleasure against her skin. Perverse and disgusting, but hot. She had scooped it up with her fingers and sucked them clean in front of him, the only time she ever got to taste his cum. It earned her a scowl as he carried her into the shower, practically dropping her into the tub.
Of course, she did manage to get Bruce to properly fuck her in the shower. So it was a happy memory, no matter how Bruce's disapproving stare the whole time tried to taint it.
A healthy collection of memories. And still, Stephanie's greedy hands wanted more. She wanted, craved more than just his fingers inside of her.
"Please," Stephanie added when Bruce was quiet for too long. She did her best to appear submissive and doe-eyed, looking at him through her lashes and spreading her legs. "I want you to feel good, too. Let me take care of you." When the soft, sultry tone she used didn't do anything to make him budge, Stephanie sighed and grabbed his wrist, pressing her thumb against the pulse point to feel his hammering heartbeat. "Take what you need, Bruce. I'm not going anywhere."
Bruce groaned and Stephanie felt it in her core.
He pushed himself to his feet, fingers still buried inside of her. When he grabbed for one of the drawers to a nearby desk, Stephanie practically preened, knowing she'd won.
"We don't need a condom," Stephanie said. She tried this argument every time. It never worked. She never stopped trying. "I have an IUD and we both get tested regularly-"
"It's not up for debate," Bruce nearly growled. He pulled a condom out and ripped the package out with his teeth. Stephanie squeaked at the sight.
"Let me put it on, at least?" Stephanie said, trying to get her voice out of the higher register he'd startled her into.
Bruce didn't put up a fight as Stephanie opened his jeans with her hands and pushed them down just enough to pull his cock free. He handed her the condom and watched with rapt attention as she stroked him a few times. It got no reaction from Bruce, and Stephanie didn't expect one. She just enjoyed the feeling of his stiff, hot flesh underneath her touch. All the little places only Stephanie got to touch and hold.
She worked him until his cock was twitching, and he grabbed her thigh again and squeezed with warning. Hypocritical bastard. He got all the time he wanted with her body, but she was always rushed when she got to touch him, sliding her hand over his cock and rubbing a thumb over the slick head.
The condom was rolled on as Stephanie imagined putting it on with her mouth. She'd practiced the skill on a dildo more than once in anticipation of the day she finally got to show it off to Bruce. She licked her lips at the thought.
"Good," Bruce grunted when the condom was snugly on his length. It was a coveted, rare praise that made Stephanie almost choke. And somehow, he said it like it was nothing. Like he didn't even mean to. Like he was unaware of how it made her react.
She liked to pretend it just slipped out because he was so caught up in her, but the realist in Stephanie knew that, like everything else about Bruce, it was calculated. Still, she took what she could get.
Bruce tugged Stephanie closer to the edge with his grip on her thigh. It was practically manhandling, and she couldn't stop the moan at the rough treatment that begged for more. Instead of giving her more, Bruce just gave her a sour look and pulled his fingers out of her cunt, and pushed them into her mouth to keep her quiet.
To make her taste the pleasure only he could bring her.
Stephanie mewled and sucked on Bruce's thick, calloused fingers as he lined himself up with a guiding hand. The push in was a blunt pressure, then a fullness that made Stephanie lean back until Bruce wrapped his arm around her shoulders to give her support.
Their bodies were flush together. He buried his face into her neck and breathed in her scent while she tasted his skin, savoring the flavor she only found on him.
Salt and brimstone.
Bruce fucked her at a controlled pace. He never let go to push her body to the limit the way she knew he could. But with how overwhelming it was to be fucked by him, maybe that was a thing. Bruce was thick and long, driving air out of Stephanie's lungs every time he drove in.
He pulled his fingers free from her mouth, and she mourned the loss with a soft noise. His hand trailed down to press against the bottom of her stomach. She didn't know where the hell Bruce learned the trick, but the slight pressure on the outside of her body somehow made the thrusts more intense and filling. It made sure his cock assaulted her g-spot with every stroke and her back arched.
"Bruce, Bruce," Stephanie chanted his name, clawing at his back, not caring that her nails were catching on sensitive scars. She felt like she couldn't think. She locked her legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.
Her back arched until her head was practically hanging upside down, all while Bruce kept his face buried against her collarbone. So he couldn't see where her gaze fell and what made her stuttered noises get more guttural.
The memorial case danced in front of Stephanie's eyes, even from this upside-down shaky view, grounding her to the moment even as she was soaring through pleasure.
Stephanie didn't know much about Jason Todd. She didn't know his hobbies or his favorite books. She didn't know what jokes would make him smile and what worries clouded his head when he was trying to fall asleep.
But she knew they shared this. She knew, in this way, they were always going to be connected. Bruce had been buried deep in Jason the same way he was buried in Stephanie, chasing his pleasure. And just like Stephanie, Jason must've liked it.
How could he not, when being loved by Bruce was like being on a direct path of a meteorite? Fleeting, but brilliant in the chaos.
Stephanie tried to remember what Jason looked like, from the pictures. She tried to imagine how Bruce liked to fuck Jason and what Jason looked like under Bruce. How his dark hair got sweaty and his ocean-blue eyes squeezed shut. What type of noises he would make and what kinds of pleasure he liked.
Did Bruce suck him off? Eat his ass out like he ate Stephanie out?
Did Jason love the fall into absolution the same way Stephanie did?
All the mental images overwhelmed her as the Robin suit danced in front of her eyes, bright colors blurring together. The thought of Jason bent over the same table Stephanie was getting fucked on made her moan and her eyes squeezed shut.
In another universe, maybe they got fucked by Bruce at the same time. Two Robins for the price of one to finally get Bruce to go over the edge and take what he wanted from both of them.
For now, though, Stephanie would have to do the work for both of them. For all the Robins and this torch she carried.
She clenched down around Bruce as best she could. Her second orgasm was already too close. Usually she needed Bruce to stroke her clit to work her to the edge, but now, lost in all her fantasies of a boy she never knew, Stephanie was lost to it. She started to shake.
"Close," Stephanie warned, even when she didn't need to. Her noises were hitched and broken, lost in every thrust.
Bruce didn't speed up, but he did fuck her harder, giving her just a fraction of more force from his strong hips. It pulled a scream out of her, and Stephanie shattered.
The pleasure took its hold on her. Toe-curling and mind-numbing and every other cliche Stephanie thought only happened in porn. She clamped down around Bruce, so tight she didn't know how he managed to keep fucking her.
"Stephanie," Bruce whispered, so softly she almost convinced herself she hallucinated it. It was the only sign she got that Bruce had come, burying himself to the hilt just as her orgasm came to an end. He shivered and exhaled, and nothing else. No loud noises, no sexy dirty talk.
Just unspoken simplicity. Stephanie could appreciate it for what it was.
She nuzzled into him, pressing her head against his and holding him tightly. It would've been a hug if he wasn't still buried inside of her. She even dared to stroke his hair, like a mother soothing a child after a nightmare.
After an orgasm was the rare time Bruce allowed Stephanie to take care of him in these little ways, and she never squandered the chance. She hummed softly, carding her fingers through his curls and rubbing his back.
It wasn't a long moment.
"Chinese?" Bruce asked, pulling away from Stephanie's skin.
Stephanie rummaged around inside her worn mind, trying to find her cockiness. "Worked up that much of an appetite?" She gave him a sharp smile.
"If you don't give me a straight answer, I'll order Pizza Hut," Bruce threatened.
"Oh, gross." Stephanie made a face, afterglow sufficiently killed. "They have the worst pizza, don't you dare."
Bruce gave her a rare smile. He leaned in and kissed her one last time before they had to separate and be real people again.
That was where the memory faded off, for Stephanie. It bled into all the other little almost-domestic moments she had with Bruce.
It was a memory that stuck out because it was the first real time Stephanie had ever thought about Jason. And now, it was a fitting one to mull over as she was curled up against Jason’s chest, enjoying an entirely different afterglow.
And a much more sore body.
Because Jason didn't hold back all the things they both wanted more than anything.
"Say cheese," Stephanie said, holding up her phone to take a selfie.
Jason, whose head was propped up by his arm, looking perfectly serene, cracked an eye open. "What are you doing?" He sounded suspicious, watching as Stephanie twisted and turned the phone, trying to find the perfect angle.
She needed to make sure both of their bare chests were in the picture, with all the bruises and marks covering them.
She needed to make sure there was no mistaking what the photo meant.
"I'm sending this to Bruce," Stephanie hummed. She didn't smile for the picture, but there was an unmistakable smugness in her eyes as she snapped a couple of pictures, giving her options to pick from before pulling the phone back to her face.
Jason snorted. His grip on her hip tightened. "Why?" He didn't protest the idea.
Stephanie just shrugged. "It'll piss him off."
"You like kicking hornets' nests that much?"
"You've got no room to talk. How many heads were in that duffel bag again?" Stephanie gave him a deadpan look before going back to her phone. She debated on a message to send with the selfie, before ultimately deciding on none.
After all, Bruce was a man of few words. Surely he would understand.
Jason made an annoyed noise but didn't argue. "Tell me what he says back," he said, closing his eyes again and adjusting to get more comfortable in bed. This was his base they had chosen to fuck in.
The first place they fucked on was a rooftop. But of course, the lighting there wasn't the best for a selfie, so Stephanie had to hold off on taunting Bruce.
Sleeping with Jason was a lot more dangerous than sleeping with Bruce had been. She heard all the warnings and stories about what he was capable of and how he wasn't the sweet boy he'd once been.
Maybe she liked the danger. Maybe she needed someone who would finally stop treating her like a doll.
And just maybe, she needed to gloat.
The message was marked as read nearly as soon as it was sent. The three little dots indicating Bruce was typing appeared and disappeared no less than a dozen times. It made her smile, imagining him sputtering and cycling through emotions as he tried to figure out a response.
Just as Stephanie was sure she wasn't going to get any response, a message appeared on her screen.
Thank you for the photo. If you plan to send more, I still have your Robin suit. You can wear it in the next one.
Stephanie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She elbowed Jason in the ribs and showed him the screen.
Jason grunted and looked down for a moment, silent. "I'd fuck you in your Robin suit," was the only input he offered.
"Only if you're wearing yours too," Stephanie rolled her eyes at how unhelpful he was.
Jason gave the thought a hum, considering. "Ask Bruce if he still has it, and I'll think about it."
She had no idea if he was serious or not. It was always hard to tell, with Jason. She had no idea if Bruce was serious either. Maybe he was playing some kind of cruel joke on her too, trying to outsmart her in some game of chess just because she'd dare to mock him with the picture.
At the very least, she could be pleased she got under his skin either way.
Stephanie smiled and typed out what Jason had said, hitting send.
She always did like calling people's bluff. Whatever the outcome was, one thing was sure.
The game was on. And Stephanie wasn't stopping until she got the last fiber of Bruce's control to snap. 
12 notes · View notes
cringefail-clown · 8 months ago
Note
The fact that no one has asked about kankri is surprising
So kankri for bingo
Tumblr media
21 notes · View notes
whositmcwhatsit · 1 year ago
Note
If only those stupid gossip columnists who kept making fun of E's weight gain in his later years knew how much we still lust over our Big Daddy even today.
Lot of BDE asks on here today!
Elvis is by far not the only star to be ridiculed and mocked for his weight. People were/are almost pathologically fixated on whether people had gained or lost weight. Trashy magazines made billions off it.
But yeah, he did get so much horrific criticism for it, even back to 1956 when a reporter named Marjorie Howe wrote:
“He has a sulkey look and his infrequent smile is almost surly... He wears long sideburns and is beginning to get fat.”
So, you know, she was advertising her stupidity loud and clear.
As for 'BDE', it infuriates me that most people didn't notice when he was sick or struggling, but gleefully reported on whether he busted his suit or if he looked 'paunchy'. They discussed him like he was a piece of cultural iconography and not a human being with the same sensitivity and vulnerability as the rest of us. I will definitely be making a stop in my time machine to kick some asses.
But yes, he was gorgeous always, charismatic and magnetic always, and his vulnerability and humanity just added to the whole package. Plus, that ass...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
80 notes · View notes
uncanny-tranny · 1 year ago
Note
I wish the world was kinder
I do, too, but unwaveringly, work must go into making the world kind.
You know, I've learned the kindness in the world isn't just reflected outward, but also inward. When you are kind to yourself, you are kind to the world; when you are kind to the world, you are kind to yourself.
You don't have to make the world kind on a grand scale. Nobody can, truly. But what you can do is be understanding to yourself and be understanding to others. We are flawed. We are so very deeply troubled. But that is what makes us shine, ultimately. Being kind is hard, but it's worth it in the end.
44 notes · View notes
starchasersunseeker · 3 months ago
Note
When do you think they will start to realize that Fanon Regulus is just Lily Evans if she gave into her teen angst?
When do you think they will start to realise that I actually don't give a fuck about any of this?
I love my Reggie, my Lily, my Barty etc
I. Don't. Care.
I literally don't give a fuck what you guys consider canon and what not and what's 'good' and 'bad'
I like my babies and that's where it's at for me 🤷
8 notes · View notes
alltheoutsinfreeeee · 6 months ago
Text
is there any magical girl anime still out there that doesn't have any fanservice? Shows like Precure, Cardcaptor Sakura or Madoka?
And if there isn't, are there at least any shows where the fanservice isn't with elementary school girls?
13 notes · View notes
idkmybffjaden · 5 months ago
Text
I have this regular daydream about getting some decent sound equipment and a bit of VA practice under my belt so I can eventually take over voicing Abridged!Jaden where the earlier content left off.
The world deserves more Abridged!Jaden and someone, somewhere, at some point will make that happen. Might as well be me, right? If I dare.
9 notes · View notes
kuromi-hoemie · 8 months ago
Text
why is it always the forbidden fruit that entices me the most (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)
#🚶🏾‍♀️ not that it impacts the way i feel about anyone else but i actually do fr love my manager and it's crazy bc idk how or when this#happened. like i have fun by myself n i love my friends but i rly am at my happiest when I'm next to her huh (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) ♡⁠#and that is a wild way to feel about someone i work with let alone who supervises me akdkaka#i still can't believe how naturally and affirmingly “i love you” jumped out of me the other day without thinking about it#and i do??¿ after thinking about it??¿ i would literally do anything for you#and she said she loves me too 😵‍💫 and we've never articulated that before. and now our talks feel more personal than before but it#was a much bigger conversation for sure (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) she's out of work this week though and I'm thinking about her.#🚶🏾‍♀️i wanna show her my knife throwing but idkk...... struggling w where the line between professional and personal needs to be 💀#i treat my work friends and my real friends very differently lol. i don't know (���´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) aaa#now that i said it it's like a dam of feelings burst ૮ – ﻌ–ა girl...#she has a husband. but he's a scrub. but she's my boss. but we're already so sweet to each other. but i shouldn't. but i want to#aaauuugghghfhfghhghkhkjltlskxkvofjw !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ignore me and my pining (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) ♡⁠ im crazy about that girl. i really am huh.. 🚶🏾‍♀️#if you got to hang out with her u would get it.... i can't believe her man ain't shit... pls let me give u my attention#u don't have to be mine nor am i wanting that but let me take care of you (⁠。⁠ノ⁠ω⁠\⁠。⁠) ♡⁠ u work so hard for everyone else#she's fantasizing.... ......... wanting.. contemplating...?..?? no. no....??¿......? ......... 😐 hm#lmao
12 notes · View notes
monsterhugger · 7 months ago
Text
guys I’m starting to think ash is lying when he says “I never thought about killing myself”
9 notes · View notes