yoooooo who still here
give a bitch a shout

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d e v o n
tumblr dot com
AnasAbdin
Keni

@theartofmadeline
hello vonnie
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

#extradirty

titsay

JVL
Today's Document
styofa doing anything
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
noise dept.
DEAR READER
🪼
Stranger Things
almost home
KIROKAZE

seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia
seen from South Africa
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Indonesia
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Brazil
seen from Mexico

seen from Mexico

seen from United States
seen from Mexico

seen from Mexico

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@anextraordinarycitizen
yoooooo who still here
give a bitch a shout
Did you really carry me when I was asleep?
Bruce x Miranda (Pt. 1)
One of the hardest lessons in life is letting go. Whether it’s guilt, love, anger, loss or betrayal, change is never easy. We fight to hold on and we fight to lest go.
Lessons Learned in Life (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
"Nothing like a woman with a brilliant mind and a filthy mouth."
(via tyenesand)
A true relationship is two unperfect people refusing to give up on each other.
Unknown (via deadsleep)
It takes two.
(via aswechoke)
“Wait, I have something to tell you…”
"I did find someone.” - Bruce Wayne
I cannot love Bruce Wayne. The way his lips graze my downy hairline as we lay together is foreign and strange. The way he silently traces patterns into the skin of my shoulder blade, claiming me, when he thinks I am asleep against him is childish.
I cannot love Bruce Wayne. I do not need the heat his body offers me in the middle of rainy, frigid nights. I do not need his lips against my ear as he pulls me close, whispering, "It's okay, I'm here." I do not need the pad of his thumb, rough and calloused but impossibly soft against my hot cheek, wiping away the one tear I have missed.
I cannot love Bruce Wayne. I do not need his distractions, the stupid text messages he sends during board meetings from across the room that make me struggle to turn my laughter into a hasty cough. I do not need him standing in my office doorway watching while my hair is coming undone, my blouse untucked, fingers smeared with ink from signing too many documents, telling me to come to lunch. I do not need to see the concern etched into the lines of his face as he watches me over his glass of ice water to make sure I eat enough. I do not need to see the glint of heat in those amber eyes when I lick a spatter of sauce leisurely from my fingertip as we wait for the check.
I cannot love Bruce Wayne. I do not need to feel him hard against me as he kisses my neck, bites so softly over the pulse of my jugular that I mewl out his name. I do not need him to take comfort in me, to feel the way he fits so perfectly inside no matter how hard he fucks or how gently I make love to him. I do not need to hear Talia, Talia in that beautiful, ragged voice as he nears. I do not need to think about the fact that in these sweaty, breathless moments, I am seeing this man more human than he has let himself be in decades.
I cannot love Bruce Wayne. I do not love our morning jogs, the way he refuses to simply let me win when we race. I do not want the baths that follow, our limbs entwined in tepid bathwater as he reclines against me in the sprawling tub, kissing my knuckles and ignoring the scrapes and scars. I do not love the way he rests his head against the hollow of my collar and closes his eyes, nor the noises he makes in his throat as I kiss down the side of his wet, soapy neck.
I cannot love Bruce Wayne. I do not need to feel protected, to feel cherished, to feel precious and beloved. I do not need his charming smiles, do not need to catch him gazing at me across crowded boardrooms and from one foot away as I read on the sofa. I do not want the safety of his arms, the understanding of the scars carved into so many inches of pale, bruised skin, like mine. I do not want his humanity, nor the humanity he finds in me.
On the night he said I love you, I did not want that, either. But, thoughtless, I gave it right back, pressed in a whisper to the hollow of his throat, and now it remains there, a tattoo, a mark. And I wonder, with one of his own pressed into my skin too, in the soft flesh right below my ear, when these both will turn to scars.
I cannot love Bruce Wayne. It is against nature. It is not good for me to love that which, in the end, I know I will destroy.
I should not love Bruce Wayne.
But, fool as I am, I do it anyway.
things that hurt me in a deep sad frowny way:
the fact that talia is consistently written off as an "evil bitch" for literally almost every single thing she does
the fact that talia is grossly mischaracterized in so many portrayals and thus gives the rest of the fandom unjust reasons to hate her
the fact that more bruce/talia art/ff/comics/whatever does not exist
the fact that people judge talia based on her ONE live action portrayal in TDKR in which she had literally what, like, 18 whole minutes of screentime? if that?
the fact
that people
hate talia
for
no
good
reason
Talia snorted. “As much as you may want to at times, you are completely and entirely ours, my son.”
Damian coughed a little. “You misunderstood me mother…I am proud to be a Wayne.” He paused for a bit. “And an Al Ghul.” It was the first time in a long time he admitted that.
Talia counted six beats of silence between them before she found her voice. It had been a long time since she'd heard that. Long enough that she'd stopped hoping she'd ever hear it again.
Without a second thought, she pulled him close to her into the first embrace they'd shared in a while. "And I am proud to call you my son," she murmured into his dark hair.
Christopher Nolan: shipping Marion Cotillard characters/knives since 2010
#…Was I a blond as a baby?
"It made your father joke about your true parentage for a brief time."
"…Should I be questioning it now?"
Talia snorted. "As much as you may want to at times, you are completely and entirely ours, my son."
Home (by Emmanuel Rosario)
#...Was I a blond as a baby?
It made your father joke about your true parentage for a brief time.
a Bruce / Talia Fanmix
There’s not enough Bruce / Talia out there. This is the mix that’s currently in my car on a loop.
*****
The Bat and The Daughter of the Demon
A Bruce Wayne / Talia Al Ghul fanmix
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