#this was really really fun to write

[illiana-mystery]

I promised a birthday fic, so here it is! Read the summary below for more information: 

After a long cross-country business trip, all Norman wants to do is spend some nice quality time with his wife, Deja (called Mimi in this fic) for his 69th birthday. But he is in for the biggest surprise when he finds his beloved Mimi decked out in a cosplay that he's loved since the 2000s, the infamous Catwoman costume. But not only does he gets to enjoy gawking and staring at her in such get up, he also gets a wild night of hot and heavy roleplay dominated by her. And after the long trip he's had, he's more than willing to follow her lead and be dominated by her. Can someone say best birthday gift ever?

Author's Note: Norman is gonna be grey in the fic. Like below...

Also this is an explicit smutty one-shot. It's also a bit of a long one. Happy reading! 😁

Taglist: @ghnaim24​​​​​, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky​​​​​, @iobsessoverfictionalmen​​​​​, @emily-ella-nightshade89​​​​​, @dreamlikedesires​​​​​​, @writingkitten​​​​​​

[ganondoodle]

it is a start ÖuÖ

(a bit belated) EDIT: part 2 here

(deltarune)

[somanyfandomsorkinafs]

(I am ~buzzing~ with ideas…. Allow me to release some)

Once Danny was an adult, he decided to join Ellie in her ‘permanent world tour’. It’s better than staying in Amity where the opinion of Phantom hasn’t gotten much better. Besides, the portal caused the veil to get weaker, allow ghost to wreak havoc where ever they want.

He’s met a lot new ghost cause of this too. Old as Mycenaean Greece to non humans who came to Earth and died there. Danny’s learnt so much from them that he’s basically a walking in Encyclopaedia.

So, Danny’s decided “fuck it.” and has it became a part-time history teacher. It’s fun! He knows the details by heart and is able to make it more fun than just droning on about the same old wars and whatever. He enjoys it, the kids enjoy it and the ghosts having their stories told!

Of course, this does cause some problems when people try to correct him. Danny’s argument? “I got them correct sources.”

And when anyone asks him how knows his sources are correct? “My source was there when it happened.”

Cue the dc world thinking that Danny’s just some immortal guy whose decided to use his immortality for good(TM)

[obsesssedblerd]

Smau: "I want you back." ☹️❤️‍🩹

The guys getting you back after a breakup. ♥️

(nanami, geto, choso, toji, sukuna, and gojo)

contains: angst w/ happy ending, fluff, a bit of crack

a/n: thank you all so much for 100 followers! here's a little treat. 🥰

[centaurianthropology]

Murderbot as a ‘Cringe’ Litmus Test for the Audience (a.k.a., we are culturally the Corporation Rim)

One of the more interesting things I’ve seen in discussions of ‘Murderbot’ are how many people are not happy that the show made the Preservation team more explicitly hippies.  After all, per our current cultural zeitgeist, hippies are silly, over-earnest, over-feeling, over-EVERYTHING. Why is this team of scientists holding hands and humming?  Why are they taking breaks in the middle of a tense situation to reassure a colleague that they love him? Why do they stand around playing music and dancing during their downtime?  Why did the show make them “Cringe”?

And that got me thinking again about the current cultural antipathy toward sincerity and openness.  People who are seen as open and sincere beyond a fairly narrow scope of emotional expression are treated as deeply weird, off-putting, and most importantly for this conversation, as INCOMPETENT.  You can’t be goofy and competent.  You can’t believe in the power of love and friendship and holding hands and taking a dance break, and still be a good scientist.  You can’t have one of the unsexy sorts of mental health problems (panic disorder) and be a good leader.  In our current cultural moment, you have to be Cool.  You have to be unaffected by both the horrors of the world and the day-to-day joys. 

I think that a lot of people see themselves in ‘The Murderbot Diaries’, and a lot of them understandably love the very anticapitalist tone of the books.  And they wanted Preservation to be Cool Space Communists.  Hypercompetent at all times, serious, without flaw.  Because any personal flaws might be taken as flaws in their cultural and political leanings, right?  And we can’t have silliness or goofiness or fun in our Communist Utopia, or people won’t take us seriously.

But to me, the tension is so much better, so much more real and human and FUN. And it makes the audience question their own implicit biases as much as SecUnit is going to have to contemplate its implicit biases.  This team is comprised of highly talented scientists from a culture that values emotions and, yes, activities that we the audience have been culturally trained to think are Cringe.  They do have a humming consensus circle—so that anyone in the team can have veto power over a decision that has major ramifications not only for a research project, but for their own ethics.  They do like to play music and dance when they’ve got some free time, even if that music would be considered embarrassing or offputting to outsiders.  They do openly love one another and support one another, even in—no, especially in—challenging times.  It’s good to have that tension, both to tell the story and to give the characters and the AUDIENCE an emotional and thematic arc.

Let’s use Dr. Mensah as a the best example so far of this tension. Mensah is a good leader.  In every scene where she’s with the group, she’s the heart of it.  She’s always weighing the fears, the thoughts, the feelings, and the arguments of her friends to come to a decision.  She doesn’t feel like Gurathin’s right about not trusting SecUnit, but she’s also very aware that he knows more about the Corporation Rim than she does, and that his arguments, while rooted in his fears, are rational.  So she ends up deciding that they’ll leave the SecUnit behind for their mission. 

And it’s the wrong call. Going out to the dark site in the map without the SecUnit almost gets her killed. But her decision to climb the scree pile alone makes sense, because she doesn’t want to further endanger Bharadwaj, and if she doesn’t climb up there with her equipment, they won’t get important information about what’s going on with their survey data. And yes, while she’s climbing she has another panic attack. But she keeps climbing through it. Hell, she even takes a moment to encourage the teamwork between SecUnit and Gurathin, because that’s an important part of being their leader.  And, yes, they both roll their eyes because they still don’t like one another. But the important thing is that she’s created this sense of openness, of acceptance, of love.

Being a good leader doesn’t mean making the right call all the time.  It means learning from both right calls and wrong calls.  It means creating an environment where people can be wrong, and learn from their mistakes, and try again to get it right.  And it works!  Gurathin may roll his eyes, but he also has the space to apologize for getting it wrong. He has the space to fuck up and try again. And that is created by her encouragement, by her openness, by her caring even when it becomes embarrassing to a man raised in our culture the Corporation Rim, where open emotion is something to smirk at.

And when she’s alone, Mensah falls apart.  When no one can see her, she has panic attacks, because things are starting to go pear-shaped for these people she loves.  Because one of her dear friends nearly died, and she wasn’t there, and apparently that could happen at any time because their maps are faulty, and the only real rescue is an untrustworthy bond company that is a week away at best.  That’s a perfect recipe for a panic attack, but she hides them because she knows what she needs to be for her friends and colleagues.  She is the leader, and damned if she’s going to let something like her panic disorder stop her from doing that.

That’s not incompetent, that’s incredibly courageous.  Her bravery lies in being afraid and pushing through, not being flawless from the off.  The bravery and the competence and the things that eventually are going to win Murderbot over to loving these humans ARE their flaws and the fact that they don’t let those flaws stop them from trying to be the best people they can be, while also being true to a culture of being open and loving to the point that they can come across, to the jaded construct or audience member, as Cringe.

I think we’re going to see more and more of that as the show unfolds.  We’ve only just laid the groundwork, and established the initial impressions of all the characters.  They are being set up for arcs, and by electing to let the Preservation team be more out-there, more earnest, more Cringe, they’re setting the audience up for an arc too.

Anyway, loving the show, can’t wait for the DeltFall storyline to kick off tonight.  And I love this crew being highly-competent space hippies with realistic human flaws, who love and support one another.  In an unrelentingly Cool, Bleak, and Edgy television landscape, it really is nice to have kind characters be free to be their kooky selves without the show judging them for it.

[minart-was-taken]

Sorry I'm actually a fake fan who just drew these for my friends :P I tried the game but I have more fun just listening to my friends ramble about it.

[memen18-m5r3]

How can I help you today?

[stump-not-found]

au fanfic art dump yaaaay

i'm almost at 30k words who knows when i'm gonna start posting it lol

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[tourettesdog]

I am begging people to be normal about completed fics, and in particular one shots.

I am begging people to stop demanding more from authors, and insisting that one shots need to be longer or have sequels.

I don't think yall understand how many fanfic authors are one more "where's the rest of it?" comment away from throwing out any plans they might have had to continue an idea.

Unless an author like specifically says they might write more for an idea, just-- assume something marked as completed is complete, and respect it as it stands, please.

[isbergillustration]

Let Us Spiral Together

[bluerosefox]

Of Babies and Secret Families

Another DPxDC idea cause I am still brain rotting in this fandom.

AND ONCE AGAIN, its a deaged Dani/Dan idea. And dad!Danny.

.........

Bruce stared for a long moment. Trying to make sure he wasn't going insane or was just very sleep deprived from three days of near no sleep because of a difficult case.

......

Nope he was still seeing them.

Two children, a toddler and a baby in a baby walker were in the Batcave.... One eating Alfred made cookies while the other was finishing up its bottle. The two seemed at home in the cave and were being watched over by Alfred who looked over at him with a raised eyebrow of 'More children sir?'

Bruce could hear nearly all of his children (one was not with them just yet still upstairs, they needed to take a private phone call it seems) who had come down to the cave for their annual weekly reports and updates all asking him when did he get more kids to bring into the family.

The toddler of the two, a little girl with messy black pigtails and blue eyes noticed him and smiled widely at him, eyes sparkling with toddler mischief as she finished her cookie off and then loudly said "Grandpa B!"

Then with the speed only a sugar upped toddler could do she ran over and crashed into his legs, her little arms wrapping around him as best as she could. The baby had finished his milk, and noticed him as well, making grunting sounds and coo's as he did his best to move his baby walker towards him as well.

Bruce blinked, his mind blanking at what he had been called, as he stared down at the toddler that looked up at him with smile.

Bruce could hear his children all freaking out and he questioned which one of them made him a grandfather and never told him about it!

Bruce got his answer when the one still upstairs in the manor came running down yelling out what had to be the children's names

"Ellie! Dan!"

"Hi Daddy!" came the response from the toddler and a tiny grunt from the baby.

[norcigs]

PROMISE (CAM BUNNY .ᐟ ᢉ𐭩 pt 5)

previous part series masterlist

synop: lando couldn't quit you if he tried, so he quits trying.

warnings: smuuut!, with plot, first half is pretty fluffy, fem sub reader, dom lan, use of doll, princess, bunny and more, m and f masturbation, some petplay, vry light breeding, little aftercare

🚃: 5.1k words

“i miss you,”

your voice bounced around the cockpit, rattling like loose carbon fiber as lando drove. every corner, a thought of you, causing him to brake later, push the limit. 

it was natural, not forced or rushed. just the idea of you nestled into the pockets of his brain made him faster, better. 

P2 in FP1 was a good result. he was happy with himself and how the car felt beneath him. the break between practices is when he really let his mind wander.

eyes closed, head leaned back against the headrest of the couch. your voice played tricks on his mind. good tricks, ones he was willingly falling for. 

he let you lead him away from this place. you acted as a sanctuary in his mind. in here, there was no room for racing, championships, or tyre degradation. here, there was just you and him. in some tranquil state neither of you had experienced together.

cuddling somewhere, anywhere. limbs draped lazily against one another. there was a slowness, a calmness, to you that lando was becoming reliant on. 

he imagined your voice saying things he had never even heard you speak. but in this quiet spot in his mind, they were as clear as day.

“i’m so proud of you handsome” you’d tell him, with a smile he didn't even attempt to picture. “you did so good out there” as your hands wrapped around the backs of his arms. he didn't have to win, he didn't have to prove anything.

he didn't have to, but god did he want to. there was something far too comforting about your boyfriend being a race winner. 

of course, he wasn't your boyfriend, he had already won races, and you would have no idea he was even winning anything. but looking far past all of those obvious faults, the idea had him grinning and heart tingling. 

still smiling softly as he pulled down his helmet, more ready than ever for FP2. he had a girl to impress, a race to win.

he had more energy than he should. walking into his hotel after another good session. the pep in his step not fading despite exerting everything he had in the car today. 

his shoulders felt lighter, his stance taller. usually, the night before qualifying would be accompanied by a stomach full of dread. but now, there were butterflies swarming his stomach. their wings gently brushing away the bad that might have pooled. 

another night with you. another date. he flushed at the idea of you thinking this was a date too. realistically, he didn't think you did. you were just talking to a chat box. but he had long given up on being rational when it came to you. 

lando found himself craving the extremes. feeling complete only when he was racing at incredible speeds or wrapped in your stillness, your calm. everything in between felt like it was missing something. 

he ate dinner, stretched, ice bath, warm compress, and drank lots of water. he did everything he needed to, everything he should do. each mundane task was made easier as he thought about you doing them for him.

you cooking him something tasty, putting a little piece of your love in his stomach for him to digest. he thought about how your hands would feel warm against his neck and shoulders as they peaked out of the ice bath. 

he thought about resting his head on your chest and letting you massage his tensions away. he picked his pajamas with what you might like in mind.

he brushed his teeth and imagined you sitting on the counter before him, smiling and stupid in love. it was all so domestic. so safe. without him realizing, his brain had started building a home in his head. a home that was distinct because it was built for you. for both of your forevers.

he should snap out of it. he knows that. but existing in this imagination with you, felt too good to quit.

finally sinking into the hotel bed, he ignored the heat rising under his skin. he ignored the way his dick was hardening just slightly under his boxers. he ignored how he twitched thinking about you taking care of him. 

well, he tried to ignore it all. rolling over, waiting for the clock to finally hit 9:00 felt like some form of cock torture. he laid on his stomach, the matress applying gentle pressure to his dick. 

dontmovedontmove– his hips rolled against the sheets. grunting and clenching his jaw at the relief. heat funnelling to his tip, begging for attention. 

he didn't close his eyes. everytime he blinked, he saw a flash of you. he couldn't imagine what he would see if he closed his eyes completely, but he was pretty sure it would have him rutting into the mattress and finishing on his own bedding. 

he counted to 100 like that might distract him. his voice ragged and whiny as his cock had control over most of his senses. 

he couldn't wait a second longer, he thought it might kill him. he furiously typed in your link, needing you. in a different way than he needed you trackside, rooting for him, but with the same intensity. 

the minute of 8:59PM felt like it lasted an hour. your notification popping up the second the clock switched. relief washed over lando like cold water. 

GOD I MISSED YOU

he was talking to you before his brain had even caught up to his hands, clicking away faster than he could process. your camera was back to its usual position, sitting across the room on a desk or something. 

his eyes traced the natural lines of your collarbone. a sigh escaping him at the sight of you. you were wearing that orange hoodie again, the same one as before. the one that plagued lando’s dreams like it was your second skin. he wanted you to turn around, wanted to see a big 4 plastered on your back. 

wanted his last name displayed in bold letters across your shoulders. his hand found the hem of his shorts, trying to contain himself, but needing friction.

your voice spoke through a smile, pitching upwards at the end with excitement. “hi four, i missed you too” you spoke, a small giggle interrupting you. “how was your day my love?” you asked him. 

his heart was in his throat. he had never heard you say the word love before. it was just a nickname, you didn't mean it. but the noise had his head spinning and pulse quickening in his chest and crotch. love.

the way you said it was like a parasite that had already taken refuge in the deepest part of himself. it replayed over and over again in his mind until he snapped back into reality.

IT WAS GOOD, A BIT STRESSFUL BUT NOTHING COMPARED TO THIS WEEKEND

“ah, busy week at work?” you asked, as clueless as the moon was to sweat. 

YOU COULD SAY THAT

he was smirking, there was something nearly funny about it, the general reference to his job as if it were everyday office work. it was cute, the seriousness you took his stress, having no idea how deep it ran. but behind that, there was a hint of sadness. a hint so small he might not have noticed it if he wasn't so acutely aware of every moment he spent with you. 

part of him wanted you to know.

he wanted you to know. to… know.

you spoke before he had time to make a stupid decision.

"i’m so proud of you for today" you whispered, your voice a silken thread weaving through the quiet. "and i know you’ll shine just as brightly tomorrow." your words settled over him like a lullaby, soft and weightless.

"just remember, mistakes don’t define you. what matters is the way you rise from them, the way you let them teach you how to fly" you shifted, legs folding beneath you like petals closing for the night.

"and when the world feels too loud or too heavy, come back to yourself. there is greatness stitched into your soul, strength running through your veins, and a fiery spirit that lives in every inch of you."

you didn’t hesitate, didn’t fumble. you spoke like it was truth carved into the stars. and he listened like your voice was the only thing he believed in.

"i’m always cheering you on. even if you can’t see me or hear me– i’m with you. always. and i believe in you no matter what." your voice faded into the hush between heartbeats, soft as dusk.

you weren’t forcing the words. you weren’t trying to fix him. you just meant every syllable. honesty poured gently from your heart, so raw and real it made tears shimmer at the edges of his eyes.

his girl. he had always wanted you, but now, he needed you. words had never soothed his heart like yours just did. there was something about you, something almost magic.

MY SWEET GIRL, THANK YOU BABY

YOU MAKE EVERYTHING EASIER. MY CALM IN THE STORM

“careful four, ill think you have a crush on me or something” you retorted, hand scratching your bare knee lightly. 

don't say it lando– don't–

I DO

I CAN'T HELP MYSELF

NOT WITH YOU

goosebumps peppered your skin, a shiver down the center of your back. you hadn’t tried naming what any of this was, neither of you had. until now. he had gone out on the limb, it was only fair for you to meet him halfway.

“i think i like you more than i should…” your voice trailed off, like you were telling a secret that wasn't yours to share. “i think about you, maybe more than i should” 

I NEVER STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU

I SEE YOU IN THE SUNSETS THAT GLOW THROUGH PLANE WINDOWS

I HEAR YOU IN THE LIGHT PATTER OF RAIN

I FEEL YOU IN MY CHEST, MY RIBS, MY HEART

I FEEL YOU LIKE YOU ARE RIGHT HERE WITH ME.

your breath was caught at the back of your throat. fingers twitching like you were longing for his hand to hold. 

“i wish…” your voice was careful, crackling with that same genuine honesty that made his head spin every time he heard it. “i wish you were here… i want to… kiss you”

and there it was

the crack

the first domino 

the acknowledgement that this being strictly online wasn’t enough, not anymore. you wanted the connection, the spark, to be as tangible as the clothes on your back. 

lando’s heart was pounding. he wanted that to, really he did, so why was he suddenly worried about you knowing his identity again? maybe he wanted to keep you away from this world, separate, entirely his own. maybe he was worried about what you would think. being with lando is asking a lot, simple things are made more complicated when you have millions of supporters. 

maybe, he questioned, he was worried you wouldn't really like him at all. he got stressed too easily, he was gone too much. he didn't want you to have to worry about him everytime he set foot on the track.

he was scared, but not really of what you might think. but of the possibility of losing you. he couldn't let that happen, he wouldn't.

he decided, then and there, you were worth fighting for. no matter what. no more fear or hesitation. falling head first into loving you was what he wanted. he trusted you, trusted whatever you two had. 

there was something, you both knew it, you both felt it. you were his. he wasn't going to let anything change that. not anything he could control. 

NEED YOU SO BAD

you laughed softly at him, his head tipping back in near pleasure at the sound. “you're cute”

EVERY MOMENT I SPEND WITH YOU I SWEAR YOU GET HOTTER

“so what are you gonna do about it?” sugary venom dripped from your words. sweet and deadly.

YOU WANNA PUT ON A PRETTY SHOW FOR ME BABY?

your head was nodding with enthusiasm. the ends of your hair flicking up as they reacted to your motion. hearts bound to one another after the confessions. you were bound by something more now. something almost, instinctual.

lando felt his blood pumping through every inch of him, particularly heavy near his cock. dick straining, barely contained by his underwear. his tip was hot and angry, it commanded your his attention. 

you moved in slow motion. your hands slowly curling under the bottom hem of the hoodie. simultaneously adjusting to be sitting on your folded knees and ankles. carefully, painfully, you peeled the baggy garment off of you.

bright orange lace adorned your figure. wrapping around you like spider webs, delicate and dangerous. cut in places to show more of you. breathtaking, effortless, and nearly the exact shade of orange he would be driving in tomorrow. 

FUCKING HELL

lando felt like he had seen god. stars prickeling the outer corners of his vision. completely entranced by you. he might have forgotten about his own dick if the need wasn't starting to hurt. 

SAT THERE THIS WHOLE TIME, ALL SWEET, KNOWING YOU HAD THIS ON UNDERNEATH

“hey, i am sweet,” pouting, voice pitched up and whiny, posture deflating.

I KNOW YOU ARE

MY SWEET GIRL

NOW I WANT TO TURN YOU INTO MY WHORE

“stop teasing” voice hot with desperation as you made slow circles against whatever part of your bed you could get your clit on. 

BEG

there was a lot that neither of you knew about each other, or what any of this was. one thing you both understood well was this; he orders, and you obey.

“p-please four, need you, n-eed” a sigh, thick with humiliation and something eager. “need to be your whore” 

there wasn't much thinking left on lando’s end. just you, and the slow pace of his hand gripping and relaxing against his shaft.

BEND OVER

the sugary sweet night had become something much more raw now, lustful. he still felt that warm buzz in his heart thinking about you. watching you, still his girl, always his girl. just, now, he wanted to watch you fall apart for him.

again, you listened. you turned to have your back facing him, leaning down and arching. your hips pushed flush as far as you could. 

his eyes dilated. pulse quickened.

he hadn't realized before, because of the way you were sitting. the lingerie had a larger opening around your cunt. he could see all of your hips, your ass flushed with shyness. and my god he could see your glistening cunt.

leaking, pretty, clenching around nothing just for him. 

it was the first time he had seen you, really seen this part of you. he stared like you might disappear if he blinked. his head floated somewhere he wasn't sure he could come down from. or wasn't sure that he wanted to. 

his dick throbbed in his own hand. like it needed to fill you. needed to. 

he could have sworn your tight hole clenched at the same time as his cock twitched. like they were longing for each other, even with all the impossibility of that. 

he blinked the thought away as he felt his balls draw up like he might finish. just like this, fully clothed, by looking at your pussy. 

part of him wanted to hold your head against the mattress and use your silky tightness until you couldn't speak. the other part of him wanted you staring up, legs around his waist, hands in his hair, as he gave it to you. slow, making love.

he wasn't sure which version of him was going to win out at this moment. 

“i– it– it’s hurting four…. too empty, need you please” your voice was a wrecked sob. fists clenching desperately at any sheets they could get. butt moving to expose more of yourself, to tempt him. 

the pitifulness dripping off of you made something in him snap. ruin her. she needs it.

POOR BUNNY

SO SO DESPERATE FOR ME

“i am, yes sir” you told him nearly as soon as he hit send on the message. shame had left you, it had melted away and was leaking from your cunt.

WANT YOU STRETCHED. NO TOYS TONIGHT. JUST THOSE PRETTY LITTLE FINGERS.

your hand crawled back to your heat, applying pressure, and daring to rub small circles for relief. his hands shoved his shorts down with distraught desperation. fucking touching yourself just to his words. 

he hiked a knee up to have himself more spread. he stroked himself, tight and slow, keeping it together just enough to focus entirely on you.

PUT ONE IN FOR ME BUNNY

you hooked a finger inside yourself, slipping to nearly the second knuckle instantly. your pussy was soaked and crying for something to suck on. 

SLOWER SLUT

hesitantly you sunk inside yourself. no lube, no adjusting, you just took it like you were made to be full. 

SO FUCKING WET 

JUST FROM KNOWING I CARE ABOUT YOU, HUH?

BET YOU WOULD LET ME USE THAT WET SLIT WHENEVER I WANTED. JUST A LITTLE PRAISE WHISPERED IN YOUR EAR AND YOU TURN INTO A BABBLING SLUT FOR ME. 

your finger bottomed out inside of you, hissing from the pleasure, or the way you itched to be fucked, really fucked.

you didn't move, stayed perfectly flush inside your little pussy until you were told.

CAN YOU TAKE IT BUNNY? 

sincerity slipped out of him, the way you were mewing into your sheets like your brain had already turned off. he needed just that fraction of reassurance of how desperately you wanted to be taken. 

your response was something between a cry and a moan. wicked and tender in a way that made lando start leaking. 

he took it as a yes. for whatever reason, he trusted that you would say no if you couldn't handle it.

FUCK THAT PRETTY PUSSY FOR ME

your finger drew back instantly, relief flooding over you, noises you never knew you could make spilled from your throat. 

the way you flinched and clenched around your finger, it was almost like it was too much.

his hand quickened around his length as he thought about it. how wrecked you were from just a finger. looking from your hand to his cock, analyzing the size difference. he imagined how easily you would fall apart for him.

how gone you would be. how he could make you feel better than anyone or anything ever had. 

the palm of his hand was slick now. his own clear liquid lubing himself to fuck his hand. hips bucking upwards into nothing. like an idiot. rutting against the air, unable to control himself at the sight of your aching slit. 

before, he had been turned on by the scandal of this all. that he was almost peeking into your privacy, and that you were letting him. he found it erotic how much trouble he would be in if anyone ever knew he was on this site.

now, he was just turned on by you. really the idea of you being live like this didn't seem taboo at all. it was just you and him, together, in some twisted way. like you and your cunt really were made for him. and this was just the only way the universe could get you to him. 

a hiss left his own mouth. his thoughts had distracted him from keeping his pleasure at bay. his hand had naturally matched your pace and he was suddenly way too close for his liking. 

he removed his hand completely, ignoring how badly it burned to lose the friction. the frantic grunt that left him only adding fuel to his need to make you finish. to have hot pleasure shoot through you like nothing you could dream of. 

ONE MORE FOR ME PRINCESS?

a question mark, as if he had any doubt in your response. the second finger is when he really let you go. you're drenched in slick, but still you struggled to fit the additional digit. 

he looked at his own hand. how much bigger his fingers were than yours. how much you would struggle to fit them. how you would hold his wrist and whine into his mouth while he kissed you. tears welling as you begged him not to pull out, that you could take it.

he would have to work you up. stretching your cunt to be the perfect mold of his cock. one finger, then two, maybe three, then the tip, all before he was able to bottom out inside of that fucking pussy. 

he tried imagining your hand, the size and proportion of it compared to his. how gently it would wrap around his, fit perfectly against him. like pieces of the same puzzle.

his hand was back around his dick. really– he couldn't help himself. you had him wrapped around your little fingers and you didn't even realize. 

two fingers pushed inside now, you struggled, legs pushing and flexing in weird ways to help yourself adjust. 

he couldn't see them, but he knew tears were falling softly down your cheeks. it was easy to tell from how wrecked your moans were now. the choke that caught in the back of your throat each time you made a noise.

SHH I KNOW BABY, YOU'RE JUST TOO TIGHT 

SO FUCKING GOOD FOR ME

you could only whine back through your salivating mouth. in a state of utter bliss and not able to really keep yourself grounded. 

DO YOU WANT TO STOP PRETTY?

“no– god no– dont stop four” you were too loud. he didn't know your living arrangement, but if you had any neighbors, they would know his name. his number. that you were his girl.

his fist matched your pace. god you were slow– but by how destroyed you seemed he wasn't gonna push you further. he thought it might not be quick enough to get him off– until he imagined his hand as your silk pussy.

you on top of him, riding, gently grinding up and down, trying so so hard to go quick for him. kissing all along you as you lost yourself like you are now. his dick pulsed in his hand like it had a heartbeat of its own. 

THATS IT BUNNY, TAKING ME SO WELL, MY PRETTY LITTLE SLUT

your hand jerked, your pace changing and sporadic. the pads of your fingers clipped just at the edge of the sweetest spot you could reach inside you. a spot lando would split wide open if he ever found it, no doubt. 

your thighs clenched in a way he knew all too well. precum leaked from his tip to the base of his balls. a small bead sliding and applying the faintest bit of pressure. like your finger ghosting over the centerline of his sack. 

he didnt know which of you was wetter.

“wan- need- need you to cum in me please baby” you didn't even sound like yourself. a shell of the girl he cared so deeply for. everything gone except greedy primal pleasure. your hips moved faster now.

throwing themselves back against your own fingers. something about the way you always needed to be jerked around during sex– even alone– drove him so fucking crazy. 

you had never seen him, never met him. yet you were fingering yourself and begging him to cum inside of you. the skin of his shaft dragged up and down. rough with friction, flexing around the base each time as his eyes fluttered shut and mouth hung wide. 

THATS IT BUNNY

CUM FOR ME

TURN THAT PRETTY LITTLE HEAD OFF AND JUST FEEL GOOD FOR ME

YOU DESERVE IT

GONNA FILL YOUR CUNT FULL OF MY LOVE

and that was all you needed. back arching as your fingers pumped in and out of you so quickly, so greedy, flicking upwards at the end of every thrust to get them even further inside of you. applying pressure to the spot inside you that lit every nerve alight. thinking about him destroying your hole and finishing as deep as he could. 

white and hot, coating your walls, marking his territory. your orgasm hit you as you slowly tipped over the crumb of consciousness you had been holding on to. eyes rolling back as your mouth stayed agape. your fingers pulled out of yourself, circling frantically at your clit.

the aching bud, slippery with your arousal. your wet fingers gently rubbed more pleasure out of your cunt. lando watched as your tightness came around nothing. nothing but your emptiness. your slit getting impossibly smaller as it clenched up.

the suction you would have around his cock was maddening. he couldn't pull out if he wanted to. just stuck inside your needy pussy, painting you sticky white. 

your release begins as a subtle warmth which rises and coils around your body like the tide. followed by a rush of intensity that seems to blur the edges of thought and time. you tighten and expand, clench and release each muscle. 

every sensation compounding with the others as you let it all go. let yourself sink into the feeling, the pleasure. let your mind escape your body, even just for a moment. 

euphoria trickles softly down you as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse through your clit and limbs. 

lando’s hand pulls roughly at his sex. pumping himself with no grace or passion. just instinct driven pleasure. he spurts once, shock and relief make him look down at himself. 

his hand now covered in his own cum, slicking his cock to be rubbed even more. with that and you moaning his number like you were in heaven. his climax shook through him like nothing he had experienced. 

bones and muscles melting into one fluid substance that made him up. blood like hot lava pulsing through every bit of him. white hot cum shoots, hard, high. landing back on his own hand. messying his crotch with himself.

his cock ached from the inside out as he slowly shuddered through the end of his bliss. thighs clenching and spasming as he slowed his pace to a still. 

watching you with hooded eyes. the way your body slacked, relaxation seeping in. a deep stillness settled across you both. bodies pulled to the mattress and to the other like gravity.

BEAUTIFUL GIRL 

YOU DID SO GOOD, I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

your content hum purred back at him, spurring something more gentle to stir in his gut. 

the moment had shifted again, without either of you realizing. you were back in that dream-like state you both slipped into so easily with the other.

PRETTY BUNNY 

HOW DO YOU FEEL BABY

your body shrunk, returning to a more comfortable, cradled position. “felt s’good four, m so s-eepy now” the tired slur evident. 

YOU THINK YOU CAN GO CLEAN UP? 

JUST SOME LIGHT SOAP AND WATER? 

DON'T WANT YOUR SKIN TO GET IRRITATED BABY

what the fuck was he talking about… he had just wrecked you, ruined you in a way he thought you never had been. and in a split second he was now worried about your sensitive skin. 

never had that been his first thought after fucking a girl. granted, you weren't an ordinary girl, not to him. to him, you were something much more extraordinary. 

he wanted to wipe a warm rag across you, kiss your tired eyes, dry you off and get you dressed. he wanted to use your same sweat kissed towel on his skin. drying off quick so he could slip under you and make sure you drifted off peacefully. hand in hand, heart to heart.

“n-o i don wan to end the live yet” your voice was barely a whisper as you struggled out each word. “gon’a miss you too much”

I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE

I WILL BE RIGHT HERE WHEN YOU GET BACK

“promise?”

PROMISE

you lazily shuffled out of the frame. he heard your steps dragging and a door open. then, for a moment, he heard nothing but the sound of his own breath. racing with something more like poetry than lust. 

you walked back into frame, orange hoodie and something tiny underneath. comfortable. you situated yourself to be in front of the camera, sitting on a chair or something else. the shot consisted of just your chest, a covered view of you, just a hoodie to lando.

GOOD GIRL

SO WELL BEHAVED

he teased, mostly.

“jus for you” it was lazy and hardly convincing. but he believed you. more than he wanted to. you were all for him. “do you think you will back on sunday at my usual time? or is this weekend really busy for you?” alertness more present in your tone, something lined the question, maybe nervousness, maybe hope. 

“or i could go live at a different time if you wanted? i'm not busy sunday, i don't know- just- just a thought” as lando’s mind was still dizzy with the show you had just given him. this innocent little voice drove him as crazy as ever. 

that tinge of innocence that made him want to protect you from everything, the same one that made him want to be the only one who ever had the chance to ruin you. 

I WILL BE HERE BABY

NOTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT TO ME

you relaxed, giggled. he stiffened, sucking in air he didn't need. a moment of fear shot down his spine. because, part of him really meant it. you had climbed his list of importances quicker than the sport he devoted his life to. 

“okay, im looking forward to it then” he could hear your smile, he wanted to taste it.

TAKE GOOD CARE OF MY GIRL?

“i will, pinky promise” you raised your hand. a single pinky finger lifted up, you hooked it into your palm towards the camera. his hand followed yours. he didn’t meant to, not really, didn't have a conscious thought, but he hooked his pinky to mirror yours. 

electricity tingled near the fingernail, as you both lowered your hands at the same time

“goodnight four” you wished him, as dreamy as ever.

GOODNIGHT BUNNY

and the screen went black. 

CAM BUNNY HAS ENDED HER LIVE <3

something he couldn't place pulsed through his veins. something that felt like you. and as it spread through the darkest and furthest parts of himself, he didn't try to stop it. he let himself lose. he let you in. 

[demaparbat-hp]

Imperfect Canvass

Read on AO3.

It's easy to forget, there, in Caldera. So they do everything in their power to remember. . The Blue Spirit and the Painted Ghost meet in the city each night, two souls in eternal search for repentance. Katara tries to find a way to kill the war, whatever it takes. Zuko, the Perfect Prince, offers her the only pieces of him that remain.

[batsupernova]

To add on to my post about blushing virgin Bruce: just imagine the first time Clark calls him baby!?!?

It’s bound to happen because, come on. It’s Clark Kent, aka the walking country farm boy stereotype. Its practically ingrained into his system to say all those annoyingly sweet nicknames like sweetheart and darlin’ and fucking cupcake

Anyway, the first time it does actually happen, its when Bruce is having one of his little fits because he let the joker get away or something. Hes been ignoring everyone and refusing to come out of his cave for hours and Clark is getting worried; he’s been practically begging Bruce on hands and knees to just eat something when it slips out-

“Baby, will you please just come upstairs for dinner?”

Bruce then promptly freezes in his rapid typing, which causes Clark to freeze(woah! Domino effect) because he thinks something is wrong with Bruce.

“Baby? You okay?”

When Clark reaches out to rub his shoulder in an attempt at comfort, Bruce makes no sound and doesn’t even look at clark; he just stands up, grabs Clarks hand, and starts leading them to the elevator like this is a perfectly normal thing to do

Clark hesitantly lets himself be lead, feeling both triumphant and scared because theres no way Bruce Wayne just caved so easily after only like one hour of whatever you call what Clark was doing. (Begging? Torture? Manipulation? Depends on the perspective; bruce would probably say all three)

Clark is getting suspicious, so even though both the elevator ride up and dinner are dead silent and kinda awkward he doesn’t really mind, because it gives him time to workshop his theory

When he actually gets to test it out, its because Bruce is glued to his monitors(again), this time in his office instead of the batcave. Clark asks him 3 or 4 times to just come to bed because hes so obviously tired and when bruce doesn’t listen(as predicted,) Clark just leans against the doorframe, raises an eyebrow and says-

“C’mon baby, you know you want to”

He purposely uses that soft, kryptonian voice he has saved away for almost-end-of-the-world speeches. Bruce does that thing again where he freezes up and sort of stops breathing; and when he doesn’t move for a few moments Clark is about to furrow his brow and ask if hes alright, but then bruce is standing up and crossing the room at record time and. Guess what.

Hes blushing.

Bruce actually lets Clark lead them to his bedroom hand in hand. Are you kidding.

Clark hides the biggest smile ever in Bruces hair when he climbs into bed and starts clinging to Clark like a koala, because holy motherfuck he just cracked the code to the universe

This is half baked at best but you guys see what im going for right