Meme for a Monday Morning

[browngirl]

"When you see this, please write some porn for me" (or, really, anything with characters interacting or contemplating each other, it's not required to be porn. But porn would be spiffy. )

Thank you :) You'll have helped me not gnaw off my own arm from sheer boredom.

Comments

From the story in progress:

[thete1.livejournal.com]

"So are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or are you just gonna keep pretending that you're paying attention to all this fine, vigilante-on-vigilante mackage I'm throwing at you?"

Tim smiles ruefully and covers the hands Steph has on his shoulder with his own. "Sorry," he says, scrapes lipstick off his bottom lip with his teeth. "I'm..."

She tilts -- cocks -- her head at him. "I'm waiting."

"It's just... it's nothing new, Spoiler."

Steph grunts and nods. "You could --" She laughs. "Oh man, I was totally about to say that you could just talk to Batman."

Tim snorts.

"Yeah, I'm comedy freaking *gold*. Jeez." She shoves him a little, and then wipes at his mouth with her thumb. "It'll get better," she says.

"You're probably right."

:D

Re: From the story in progress:

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

So did you hear me squeeing, or did I go straight to the supersonic range?

I *love* the way your Steph and your Tim interact. As well as loving them both.

Spontaneous porn! Or... something.

[ilthit.livejournal.com]

There were secret parts of Rosie Sam would never get tired of, secret sounds just for him, muffled into the pillow half the time, to keep them secret, and keep the others from hearing. The walls were thick, but not thick enough to hold a scream or a loud moan, and that was a part of their love he loved no less than any other, the withholding of lust-song as their bodies played its rhythm.

Sometimes in day-time, when it was quiet and private enough, he'd touch a secret beneath the fall of her hair, up on the back of her neck, or brush a hidden moan on her throat, a special note on the inside of her fingers. She'd sigh and smile and kiss a secret pressed against his collarbone, and for a moment the song was there, even as it waited in their bedroom for them to return to it.

In time, our of this ancient magic, came forth children, and their new songs, far beyond the glory of their first.

Re: Spontaneous porn! Or... something.

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

*sings along*

This is SO beautiful. Thank you for it.

a bit from something I'm working on...

[magickalmolly.livejournal.com]

Tumbled to his back, Merry looked up, and he could only stare at Pippin, who seemed suddenly ageless in the low light. Time had been erased from his familiar face, his war-battered body, and Merry felt as if he held the sweet lad he could still so clearly remember from all those years ago. Pippin laughed then, high and bright like the ringing of bells, and the sound brought happy tears to Merry's eyes.

Re: a bit from something I'm working on...

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Merry! Pippin! Post-War! EEEEEE!

Not actually porn, but better than a kick in the face. Or something. Hopefully.

[sharpest_rose.livejournal.com]

"I never spent much time in Bludhaven when I was alive," Jason says in the same conversational tone he'd started their other two meetings with. Tim, remembering how he'd fared on both those occasions, begins considering which of his apartment's boobytraps would be the most useful to deploy.

Jason picks a paperweight up off the desk and throws it lightly in one hand, as if measuring the heft.

"What do you want?" Tim asks, trying to keep his voice cool.

"I don't know if Dick ever told you this, but we used to have this joke going. If someone made eyes at both of us, or at one and then the other later on, we'd say they had a Robin fetish going. Could be an upstanding citizen we were saving, or a skel, or a hero in tights and a cape. Robin fetishes all over the place. You ever get that?"

Tim swallows. "Chicks dig the uniform," he answers after a beat. He's never been overly fond of the banter portion of standoffs, but he'll make do in a pinch.

Jason laughs. "Chicks? Kid, do I look like I was raised from the dead yesterday?"

"What do you want?" Tim repeats, words downright icy this time.

"Well, as far as I can tell you're not getting any, and the people I used to mess around with all think I'm evil now for some reason, so I was thinking we could hate each other in the naked way. Or in uniform, if you want. The Robin fetish has never been my kink, personally, but it wouldn't be the first time I catered to it." Jason gives him the wide, fuck-you smile Tim remembers so well from his photograph collection.

"How do I know you won't just cut my throat?" Tim asks.

"I'm not exactly into necrophilia. Though I kind of hope you are, since I'm legally a dead guy and all. I won't try to kill you until the afterglow's at least mostly gone. Soldier's honor."

Tim shrugs. "Deal."

It's not like he hasn't equipped the bedroom against intruders, anyway.

Re: Not actually porn, but better than a kick in the face. Or something. Hopefully.

[thete1.livejournal.com]

*gurgling. noises.*

BITCH. STOP THAT. I MEAN DON'T. I MEAN ACK.

!!!!

Re: Not actually porn, but better than a kick in the face. Or something. Hopefully.

[buggery.livejournal.com]

::NOISES::

::FLAILING::

JAAAAAAAAAY


...::needs a Red/Black icon::

Re: Not actually porn, but better than a kick in the face. Or something. Hopefully.

[petronelle.livejournal.com]

Oh *JASON* stop it.

Oh TIM run away.

*stares*

Re: Not actually porn, but better than a kick in the face. Or something. Hopefully.

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Two Robins, no waiting! DEFINETELY porn.

*glomps you*

[karadin.livejournal.com]

check lj later.

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Meep! That's dark and desperate and strangely lovely. Thank you, a *lot*.

[keelywolfe.livejournal.com]

The first time he could have excused. There were ways of excusing almost, almost anything and it was an excuse he'd used before, pleading adrenaline, stupidity, whatever seems to be the least painful to the person in question. He'd heard the same excuse repeated back to him from time to time, and it was all right. Once could be excused.

Twice was more difficult and after three times…

By this point Dick only wished he could lose count and stop thinking about it, labeling each incident as it came.

Every touch, hair ruffle, implying, testing.

He remembered every nerve strike he'd taught. Tucking a blindfold briskly around Robin's mask, and laughing and everything with Tim.

Tim.

And now they were here. He wasn't stupid and he knew he was as fucked up as Bruce was, only in different ways. It was all there in the simple blue of Tim eyes and if he wanted to just...sink into it, he could.

There wasn't even a question of Tim letting him.

He smelled a little like Bruce, like he'd been using the same shampoo and it was wrong and horrible that even that didn't make him want to stop. Only made his hands shake, sex-clumsy in a way that they never are and a lapful of warm, naked boy should never be enough of an excuse for that.

Dick licked at the soft line of bruises down Tim's throat that he had no memory of biting into place and breathes him in, Bruce-scented and hands tightened painfully in Dick's hair. If he looked up, if he could look up, he knew exactly which smile would be on Tim's face, sharp-edged and wrong and it was shaming that it was easier not to see it.

Easier to turn him on his belly and take everything that was being offered to him, bury his face in dark, dark hair and just not look at all.

[petronelle.livejournal.com]

Oh, birdboys. They're charmingly scary. Well done!

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

So beautiful, so wrong, so doomed. So *awesome*. Thank you.

[sister-wolf.livejournal.com]

Well, it's not exactly porn, but it's getting there. From the in-progress Jason/Steph/Roy set in the Fractal Geometry AU:

Stepping carefully, Steph makes it across the attic and down the back stairs without being betrayed by creaking floorboards. She can see the faint flicker of the TV coming around the corner from the living room. Cautiously, she glances into the room. Roy is comfortably slouched on the sofa with his back to her, a couple of empty bottles of beer cluttering the coffee table in front of him.

He hasn’t noticed her yet. Steph inches up behind him, moving soundlessly until she’s close enough that she can vault over the back of the sofa and land straddling his lap in one smooth motion.

Roy yelps, jumping violently, but she’s got her hands braced on his shoulders. He’s not going anywhere.

“Hi there, Arsenal,” she says, letting her voice drop into the husky Batgirl growl.

Roy gives her a slow, dirty smile. “Bat Chick. Fancy meeting you here.” His hands skim down her sides, coming to rest at the top of her hips where he knows that the body armor is thin enough that she can actually feel it. “Where’s Bluejay?”

“Oh, he’ll be along.” She leans forward, grazing her bottom lip against his, teasing him lightly until he slides a hand into her hair and turns it into a real kiss. She’s distracted enough by Roy’s tongue that she almost doesn’t notice Jason sneaking up behind him. Roy makes a muffled noise against her mouth, squirming away from the cold beer bottle that Jason’s holding to the side of his neck.

“Speedy. Want a beer?” Jason asks, grinning.

“Hey, that’s my sixpack, Shortpants.” Roy makes a grab for the bottle, successfully snagging it away. Jason holds up his other hand, in which he’s holding two bottles by the neck, and offers one to Steph. She kneels up to grab one, intentionally presenting Roy with an eyeful.

“Mmmm, Bat-breasts,” Roy mumbles, rubbing his face in her cleavage. Steph snorts with laughter, almost inhaling a mouthful of beer.

“God, you’re disgusting,” Steph says, making no effort to get off his lap.

Roy leers. “Yep.”

[petronelle.livejournal.com]

Roy and Steph.

Gosh.

That's *lovely.*

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Like I said in your journal, these three? Are porn. They could be swathed in burkas eating popcorn, and they'd be porn.

Heck, I'm just bored enough to play the game twice!

[keelywolfe.livejournal.com]

Gotham was like a sickness in the blood, one he couldn't escape. Tim remembered the Clench, the sick, sweaty pain of it but Gotham was the disease he couldn't cure. Bludhaven was only a tumor spreading itself from the original growth but at least its dirt was on the surface, no blistered pockets of secret darkness festering. Tim was getting tired of secrets.

He woke with the blood-taste still slick on the back of his tongue and a hand on his bare back, stroking with deliberation. Words scattered in his head like a shattered crossword puzzle and he had never trained his body to accept Dick presence as something he could trust, it just always had, relaxing, melting under a touch that turned suddenly brutal. Already bruised, already aching and there was no chance to fight. Both arms caught behind him and a hard knee in the small of his back, and it wasn't that he couldn't get free, he just couldn't do it without breaking his arms. Better to wait, to see if he was going to need his arms or just need to get out while he was alive.

"Pathetic. And you were the one who found out who we really were?"

A knee in the small of his back and he wasn't pinned so well that he couldn't move enough to see. He didn't need to see.

"You're the clever one? Your smart one in the family, right?" Hot breath on his cheek, "Is daddy proud of you? Is he?"

"Jason, you--"

Another twist and bright, fresh pain told him his arms were hovering just on the border of being dislocated.

"Does big brother brag about you to all his friends? I bet he does. I bet," Closer still and Tim can feel the damp brush of his lips against the edge of his ear. "I bet you'd do just about anything he asked you to. Wouldn't you, Timmy."

His knee nudged between Tim's legs, inching up until it was pressed tight between them and Tim didn't make a sound as his arch away made one of his arms just slip out of the socket and then back, hot, grinding pain and Jason was tight against him, smothering him with his body.

"Nothing to say? Nothing for me?" The wet swipe of a tongue across his cheek left a cool line of spit. His thighs on the outside of Tim's legs, tights rubbing raw patches against bruises that never seemed to fade, only replaced by new, upgraded versions.

Jason's voice was soft against his ear, damp, muggy breath touching him, making him shiver. "Can't you be my little brother, too?"

Re: Heck, I'm just bored enough to play the game twice!

[brownbetty]

You win hard. AAREKJAAEGHWLA":!

My brain, she is all with the running about and screaming and flailing. This is the automated Betty answering system. Please try again in thirty seconds, and Betty will attempt to respond coherently.

THIS IS TOTALLY PORN IF YOU'RE ME

[brownbetty]

"You know," says Cassie, "I'm not really clear on why San Francisco lets us stay here, but I'm pretty sure the deal doesn't include us rounding up drunks for them."

"PD says he was 'violent, verbally abusive, and claimed to be a vigilante,' and was our problem," says Vic.

The man in the overcoat lobs another bit of trash at them that falls pitifully short, and overbalances him into a stack of boxes which fall down on top of him.

Cassie winces, and calls out, "Excuse me? Sir? Can you just tell me your name? I'm sure there are people looking for you!"

The pile of boxes heaves and a hand in a frayed cuff appears, and then the man's greasy head of hair. "Are retarded or something? Who the hell do you think I am? I'm the goddamn Batman!"

Tim steps out of a shadow and folds him in half with a roundhouse kick. He grabs the tramp by his collar and drags him to the mouth of the alley. "Are we done here, or do they have some jay-walking for us?"

Re: THIS IS TOTALLY PORN IF YOU'RE ME

[sister-wolf.livejournal.com]

*snorts with laughter*

I'm the goddamn Batman! And Tim dragging him away... Bwah!

Best explanation for Allstar Batman & Robin yet.

[just-ann-now.livejournal.com]

Hiya, Ruby! I came across your post via Friends-of-Friends. Here's some porn I wrote for a birthday last month. It's Theodred/Boromir (my customary pairing) with some Faramir thrown in for fun. (It's my first truly pornish porn.)

Master of the Art

A young man’s first experience of lovemaking should be extraordinary, resplendent with joy, and affection, and skill. It’s best that the act not be undertaken by another virgin; for between the two ‘tis possible they will either be so innocent as to waste time uselessly fumbling, or else be so overeager as to be unnecessarily quick or rough. No, for this deed what is needed is a partner of experience, delicacy, and imagination. And based upon his diverse experience, Boromir knows that there is no one in all the lands of Men as exquisitely skilled as Prince Théodred of Rohan - he is, truly, a master of the art. And so, to bless them both, Boromir defers to Théodred, his best-belovèd friend, the gift of the first sweet taste of Faramir’s cock.

Boromir knows just how it will be: the leather thong binding Faramir’s wrists above his head, the silken blindfold heightening the suspense, Faramir’s lovely body spread out in the candlelight like a feast. First, slow deep kisses to warm and relax; then Théodred’s lips will begin to explore throat and shoulders, chest and belly, advancing and retreating, savoring each sigh, until finally he reaches his goal.

In his artistry Théodred will start with small light feathery licks, like the fluttering of swallow’s wings, until Faramir will chuckle, “Ah, good,” and shiver with anticipation. Then the motion will change, to long slow strokes, teeth barely scraping the tender underside. Faramir will begin to groan, and his hips to twitch. “Oh, please,” he will murmur, and Théodred will pause for a moment, the abrupt break in the rhythm making Faramir gasp. “What is it, Faramir? What is it you want?” he will whisper, teasingly, while he winks at Boromir. “I need - please…”

(Boromir’s own breathing, of course, will be harsh and ragged now as well; and as he watches them, his hands will wander towards his own cock. He could wait, he knows he will be next, he could wait…but still… and, oh, he knows exactly what Faramir is feeling, for he has felt it himself… but never, not ever, enough.)

All the while Théodred’s powerful hands will be running over Faramir’s muscled thighs; or catching his nipple with just the edge of a fingernail; or caressing Faramir’s throat and the tender skin under his ear. Faramir will be thinking that at any moment he may die of the pleasure, and wondering why men bother with war, or mathematics, or poetry, when they could spend their time doing this.

Then, knowing precisely how much time Faramir has left (because Théodred is, after all, a master of the art) he will slide his hands under Faramir’s hips, forcing him to drive his cock deeper down Theodred’s throat. And he will begin to suck, focusing all his concentration there as Faramir begins his own thrusting, more, more, harder, yes, until finally with a shudder and a sharp triumphant cry, young Faramir will be undone. And Boromir, watching, will be undone as well.

Now will come soft, light strokes, as delicate as a cat licking cream; and then Théodred will finish it off with a gentle kiss on the very tip. He will sit back, surveying his handiwork, those handsome brothers still flushed and breathless. Gently untying the leather, softly removing the blindfold, Théodred will begin to smile, and to laugh; and then Boromir his best-belovèd , and dear Faramir – the three of them laughing, joyous, because they are young, and alive; and for this night at least their bodies are made for pleasure.

[brownbetty]

Not even my fandom, but guh!

[chevauchee.livejournal.com]

It's not porn, but it could have grown up to be porn in a 'verse where Steph lived and I was motivated.

***
"You know, maybe it's cause I'm a girl or something, but I really don't think this is a superior position." Steph emphasized her point by digging her heels into the backs of Tim's thighs and that flexed her hips up, bunching her skirt and rubbing against his -- rubbing against his jock.

"It's, uh, it's not the superior position, but having me in your guard is better than if I were to..." No, he wasn't going to say it. He wasn't.

"Than if you were to mount me?" Her knees dragged against his sides; her hips still moving against him.

"Yes, that. I.." really need to pay attention, because Steph's elbow was about to split his eyebrow open.

Steph looked at where his hands were pinning her wrists to the mats and licked her lips, making her Robin-red lipstick both brighter and deeper. "Dunno, Boy Wonder, I feel pretty damn mounted at the moment."

[keelywolfe.livejournal.com]

happy sigh

Nothing better than Robin almost-porn, especially if it's TWO Robins. :)

Dead Girls in Love

[pulpgeek.livejournal.com]

*my rough atempt*

Helena just demands to be watched. It's not that Steph has not met strong women before; Black Canary, Oracle and that *other* Huntress all certainly qualified.
None of them had that 'fear my dark and scary self' aura that she gave off. Maybe it was hereditary, Batman's daughter and all that. She didn't seem anything like Bat's though, or at least the one Steph had known. Under the tough vigilante was one of the nicest people she had met in the afterlife.

That made it hurt to see Helena in such a bad way. Half the details of alternate earths and erased time-lines went over Steph's head. What she did get was the woman Helena loved was going through some bad times. Just like Cass was. Being able to do nothing but watch...not good.

'So...Ted tells me the Crime Syndicate is trying to break out of limbo again. Want to go help stop them?'
'Um...'
'Come on, there is evil to fight. Being dead is no excuse to lay down on the job. We'll smack some heads together, that should cheer you up a bit.'
'Together?'
'Well...yhea.'
'I've never had a kid sidekick before.'
'Actually you've had this particualar sidekick quite a few times'

That finally got a laugh out of her. It was far from a prefect relationship, the both loved other people for starters. But they enjoyed each others company and the sex was great even if both of them occasionally closed their eyes and thought of someone lost to them.

Helena scooted over and began the complected procedure of getting Steph out of her Robin costume. Maybe she should change to something simpler? Nahh, the slow undress was far too much fun. They should probably put off snuggling until after helping push back the forces of not-nice but...oh what the heck.

It was not the perfect afterlife, but it would do.

Re: Dead Girls in Love

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Fly, Steph, fly! Soar, Helena, soar! I just *love* the thought of them kicking ass down through eternity.

Thank you!