Little spoon so I can feel the rising of their chest in my back as I rest and feel the consistent stream of their breath behind my ear
Pinning their wrists together with my hand so I can check their pulse with my thumb while fucking them
Missionary so I can press my ear against their chest and listen to their heart beat while they're fucking me
Sucking hickeys into their throat so I can feel the flow of blood pumping into the carotid artery under my lips
headcanons about baby Bruce post tragic mugging? 🥺🙏
also, your writing skill is amazing and I aspire to be able to write fics like you do too one day. Your ideas, the way you write dialogue and structure a story is what I love about your fics the most. Your jokes land so damn often, and if they don't, then it's because i didn't get them cause i'm not a native english speaker xD Sometimes it's a 30 min research game to figure it out, then i'm laughing my ass off. Emotional moments hit so hard too and I'm STILL crying my eyes out over your "cry little sister" fic *sniffs and wipes eyes* whenever i think about it, which is always :') Thank you so much for sharing your stories despite all the asshole comments and spam messages. It's inspiring!!! <33
Wish you a lovely day :D
I don't have any specific headcanons but what I always think about is how much his behavior post-mugging is influenced by how the mugging happened and what he saw/felt specifically. Things like being splattered in blood and brain matter, and not feeling "clean" enough after. Being pushed behind Martha's coat and told to be very quiet while Thomas deals with the mugger initially -- so he stays silent even when the police are trying to talk to him. And with Alfred later. Being afraid of unfamiliar men approaching them -- does he lash out at the plainclothes GCPD detective but is fine with the uniformed cop? Did Martha grasp his wrist tightly, trying to protect him, and now he can't handle much touch at all, even gentle ones? was the guilt of asking his parents to leave the show/movie/etc involved? how much of that can he fully feel/process at that age?
Anyway. Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm happy to keep writing on here as long as people want. I'm glad the jokes are landing, they're some of my favorite things to sneak in.
Whenever I think of wayne manor it just gives me so many gothic horror/romance vibes. And I just love it. Thinking about how Bruce's kids grew up in that house and how it's filled with ghosts after his parents died. The house is filled with love and protects them and their secrets of course, but don't forget it's a gothic house. How big and grand and old it is, and Tim's own manor being the only neighbors they have in miles. How close they are to nature and there being literal underground caves under the house. The manor it's self feels a live. Feels like a cave itself for the batfamily. It protects what's there's but shows it's teeth to outsiders wanting to hurt her family.
If I ever have time, I want to write a fic about the Manor and its grounds. I am so fascinated by the vibe you describe above. There's layers of histories there, with ghosts and memories and Wayne ancestors with professions and goals of their own that aren't so distinct from Bruce's own Mission.
I don't know, something about Bruce's throwaway line in BVS about the early Waynes being hunters gets me. I want to explore that so badly. It's in his blood, what he does. It's in the bones of the Manor and in the soil of the grounds.
Strange Bird
One of the most important lessons I ever learned about art was when I became a late addition to the editorial board for the literature part of my high school's lit/art magazine, which nobody ever read.
Because I realized after a couple of meetings that my moments of baffled distress during them were centering around a pattern of our votes electing by majority to reject most of the good, interesting stuff and agree to publish the very bland.
So I was looking around this room of people I mostly liked or respected if not both, trying to figure out what the fuck when there was no reasonable way of asking, until the day we by majority vote sent definitely the best thing submitted all year back pending 'revisions' which of course would not be made, because the poet would definitely either become demoralized or know for damn sure she was too good for our stupid journal. I have no idea which it was; it's a question of mindset, and the submissions were anonymous.
This good poem was rejected for two reasons, both of which were actually manifestations of it being good. One was that it had made a couple of the board uncomfortable--not by having any shocking subject material, mind, just by provoking emotions with unusual descriptive language and indirectness--and they'd transmitted that uneasiness throughout the group during discussion.
And the other, seized upon as an excuse in light of the first, was that by being complex in terms of both structure and notion it had drawn several of us in, interested enough to engage critically and respond in depth, and so we'd marked it up with lots of places we thought a word choice could have been a little stronger, a line break had been a little odd; ways we thought it could have been a more excellent version of the poem we perceived in it. None of them ways it was actually bad. Just places we felt it could have been better.
At the same meeting, we voted to accept a poem that was an utterly tepid rectangle of predictable nothing-in-particular, because no one could find anything in it to object to.
It wasn't good. It wasn't noticeably bad, either, though; it was one consistent level of mediocrity clear through, and thus no part of it stood out as a weakness, and therefore the committee found it more acceptable than the poem that was superior in every way, but which by being daring and interesting had left itself covered in vulnerable places.
The understanding I reached as a result of this experience was multi-layered and difficult to articulate, but the most important part, I think, to share is that the value and quality of a work are not, in fact, very well measured by how many negative things you can find to say about it.
what if you were a BISEXUAL and your bf nearly DIES and then he leaves you to become JESUS and then your hot gf gets KIDNAPPED and your little sister becomes a DICTATOR and you grow a BEARD
recently we were out on a hilltop taking photos of the comet and suddenly some car's headlights blind us from across the bay. literally four miles away.
who the fuck is out here with these nuclear fusion powered headlights. who puts naval searchlights on their fucking toyota tacoma.
Sodus Point, east of Rochester, NY
mystery solved
the most canny DC characters are the ones who can look at one (1) Bruce Wayne and immediately say, with great certainty, there’s something wrong with that man that goes back at least several generations.
Guys is son of the sea too long im beginning to feel self conscious about how lengthy this plot is getting like we are. Barely halfway
Its not MY fault that the sillies keep getting into SITUATIONS!! Wilbur needs the character development!! Plus i like family dynamics!! UHG
Markus, if you rob us of this masterpiece in it's true form, I'll cry
I was rewatching Young Justice and the fact that all versions of Robin are the only one forced to keep their secret identity even with their teammates and friends is usually written off as Batman being paranoid. I think it's more than that, that it's his way of giving the kids an 'out'. If they ever decide they don't want to fight crime anyone they have a safe identity to return to, no obligations.
They are children first, soldiers second. Bruce knows better than anyone the loneliness his job brings and of course he would want better for anyone, especially his kids.
not really sure what else to say at this point. these opinions being platformed in the mainstream media is just so catastrophic for the way that people view minorities in this already extremely racist-by-nature country. gasoline on a bonfire.
Neither did white women or white men apparently and yet they never get the misogyny label applied to them wholesale. Seems exclusive to men of color.
There's this thing I noticed among queer people that impedes intersectional solidarity, and it's that certain queer people are White before they're queer, and others are American before they're queer, and it manifests in this belief that trading the lives of non Whites, non Americans for their own safety is some kind if act of queer revolution, rather than a simple extension of White supremacy and American Imperialism.
I'm still a Filipino citizen; I will be for the rest of my life, even if I'm privileged enough to have moved to Canada. On a personal level I love many Americans, but on a macro level these are still the people that committed a genocide against my people, who continue to have a dangerous military presence in my country and pulling us into proxy wars and feeding their propaganda into our country that's mired in poverty because of their colonization and decades of uneven trade agreements. And most Americans don't even know what their nation did, wondering at how Cheap everything is in the Philippines, including our lives. Making our home their paradise while the average Filipino must work every day of their life til they die without the bare minimum of worker protections.
All this to say; I'm as much Filipino, a visibly Brown Asian, as I am queer and a woman. These are all things I am. I do not trade one for another.
So I'm not gonna pretend I don't see the queers that trade in racism, imperialism and genocide for their own safety and acting like this is a radical act. It's the opposite.
A terrific point, and one thing to add: some of them make the choice, some are unaware they're putting an identity first.
I don't try to put White first, but it is treated as a default-- a state to fall back on, a state we're expected to rest in, despite that it pushes other identities aside.
White is affecting your Gender, your Queer. It's a matter of whether or not you are aware of it.
Dc writers be like yeah sorry this character was doomed by the narrative there was nothing we could do, like my brother in christ you ARE the narrative
"Oh, how tragic, doomed by the narrative-- a poignant way to go at least, I wish it didn't have to be this way :("
"You could like, not, though."
"What do you expect the writers to do, write? The narrative does that itself!"
one day you too could be a fanfic author who updates a decade later
eepy eepy famlee
