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not-poignant · 2 hours

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I'm rereading utb and while i def understand and agree with ef being held accountable for things, at the same time, it seems like everyone is constantly acting as if he's supposed to know how to have a healthy relationship and to cope with his emotions, much less his trauma, without anyone actually explaining or modeling this

Like, everyone constantly brings up the fact that he tried to kill Kadek even once they've acknowledged why and gary is starting a relationship with him while also essentially his prison warden and with how little ef has experienced in the world, especially as a psychologist, gary still not doing anything to help him get better coping skills makes it feel like he's setting him up to fail

Like, temsen is technically correct that ef domestically abused gary but he has literally never seen a non abusive partnership and is literally a prisoner in his current one

Idk, I really love this fic so, so much and thank you for writing it and i don't even need a response or anything, I just get defensive of ef when I'm reading sometimes bc he's trying so, so hard basically all the time and it seems like people acknowledge it sometimes in the moment but then don't give him the tools to make it any easier

Answering this one publicly because I know you're not the only one who feels this way or has felt this way!

Okay firstly, some of this conflict I'm evoking in the reader is intentional. I want people to feel defensive of Efnisien. I want people to think 'hey, hang on a minute.' There's a lot of reasons I want that, including the fact that in reality, most people don't recover from being abusive even after they've been in horrifically abusive situations in a vacuum (i.e. the whole world doesn't suddenly stop and become soft as cotton wool just because you've been abused! If you go and interview a whole bunch of people in jail right now, a lot of those folks (especially those who have done repeated serious crimes) will have experienced horrendous and incredibly unfair amounts of abuse, y'know? It's complicated. Yes, they have a right to heal and a right to support. Some of them probably did some pretty awful crimes as well. *coughs*serial killers*coughs*)

Obviously Efnisien is nowhere near that level, but the dissonance remains. He's certainly tried to murder more than one person. But we root for the person whose perspective we're reading. Still, people do not heal in a comfortable vacuum. In fact, most people are asked to be accountable for bad behaviour usually while suffering terribly. Because most people - unless they're certain kinds of extremely rare people - do bad behaviour because they don't know better and/or they're suffering intensely and it can momentarily feel good or satisfying to make other people hurt too.

That's an extremely hard process for the folks who are in that situation. Anyone who has had to recognise they're being a bully, or being abusive, usually goes through a period of time where they can't just immediately change, and what's expected of them seems impossible.

Now to everything else:

This world is a dystopia. There are things happening which aren't going to feel good when you're reading - systemic issues, issues around unfairness - because it's a dystopia. If those things weren't happening, and people just felt blithely comfortable with the entire world, well, that's not actually what I'm going for. There are times it should feel extremely disturbing to read.

So there are times I want readers to feel like things are unfair. There are times I want them to feel very strongly in one person's defense and only later realise the other person was hurt too. There are times I want them to feel like everyone is being unfair to a character. And times when I want folks to feel like the situation just sucks all round. Like, my intention in amongst the hurt/comfort isn't for things to feel easy or nice all the time, I am absolutely challenging the reader by introducing things that feel uncomfortable.

So when folks like yourself tell me this stuff it's like - yeah! It's a dystopia! And - yeah! Unfair things are definitely happening. This is especially true in the beginning when no one really has a concept of how bad things have been for Efnisien, or that he's an alpha. It remains true because no one is perfect. But it happens less often, that's what makes it feel more jarring as the story goes on. If you're rereading it's going to feel worse in the beginning, that's on purpose. The story is doing its job.

it seems like everyone is constantly acting as if he's supposed to know how to have a healthy relationship and to cope with his emotions

I don't really know what scenes you're specifically referring to here (like, just the first few chapters? The whole story? Temsen's single lecture?), but this is absolutely not the case. I'm going to look at the whole story:

The majority of the time that Efnisien is rude and disrespectful, especially once Efnisien and Gary are living together, Gary mostly ignores him, brushes it off, doesn't react or responds like it's normal dialogue lol. He's not constantly correcting his behaviour and he's not constantly like 'hey rephrase that to be polite' or 'I have feelings too' (maybe he should say the latter sometimes).

Gary is more aware than anyone that he shouldn't be Efnisien's guardian and that he's not a companion. He says this, out loud, to several people, several times. So we know that he knows that the situation isn't great / fair re: Efnisien's care (and frankly his own. Of the two of them, Gary's the one who keeps coming close to potentially dying from the other person's actions).

especially as a psychologist, gary still not doing anything to help him get better coping skills makes it feel like he's setting him up to fail

Gary is not Efnisien's psychologist. And psychologists are not doing their jobs on absolutely everyone, 24/7! This one is so important to remember (both in real life and sometimes in fiction). He's categorically not Efnisien's psychologist and it would be even more toxic if he attempted to be this if they were living together!

Gary being a psychologist is his job in the same way being an artist is a job, it's not specifically relevant to their relationship, except that Gary sometimes has better understanding of the root/s of some behaviours.

Ask any psychologist how they live at home and most of them do not want anything to do with their psychology jobs in their personal life, because they're mentally fatigued/tired from talking to people all day. They are not perfect people, they don't have perfect control over their emotions, they aren't teaching everyone the coping mechanisms they need to survive (this takes a lot of labour! It's exhausting! People can't do that 24 hours a day and stay sane. It gets toxic fast.)

The majority of the time Efnisien has extreme emotional responses, Gary just tends to absorb them, acknowledge them, or actively care for him. It's easy to miss these moments because I'm usually not making you feel conflicted about it.

The times Efnisien has extreme emotional responses and then chooses to repeatedly hurt Gary, there are often extreme emotional responses that follow because you know, that's what Efnisien was aiming for! He was trying to severely hurt someone!

Let's move onto Temsen and Efnisien, because this might be more of what you're thinking of, since Gary almost never holds Efnisien accountable tbh. Temsen is a doctor, and a peak alpha who is a leading educator in academic omega rights and theory. He is the first to deeply understand how young alphas left to get away with their smaller abusive behaviours are the kind of alphas who grow up into rapists, murderers and torturers like Christian in Underline the Blue.

(I just want to add, Christian's own abuse and PTSD is real, I don't think any of us are rushing to hold his hand and pat his head, because we sympathise with Nate more than Christian. But Christian has real pain, and real suffering too. He's a great example of how 'you're still accountable for your behaviour though' at its most extreme).

So, Temsen sees Efnisien's behaviour and he lectures and shuts him down like he would any young alpha who is on a really dangerous path. Even within that, he acknowledges himself - out loud - that it's a complicated situation and the time he comes down on Efnisien the hardest, he says the timing is poor. The majority of the time, he shows Efnisien compassion and care, and listens to his opinions, even when they disagree. He is the first to validate his gender both repeatedly in words, and in hormone and medical support. He's the first to change his approach to Efnisien's medical care when Efnisien calls out his lack of respecting his right to privacy, and he's the first to correct Gary about it when Gary expects Temsen to keep giving him information. He offers pragmatic, compassionate advice about many sensitive subjects in Efnisien's life, his health, his secondary gender, his nesting behaviours. And I would say this is how Temsen actually models better behaviour.

Temsen doesn't expect Efnisien to have all of these skills, but Efnisien has to be told what he's doing wrong and how that's not acceptable behaviour and how he's hurting people, to start learning those skills! Otherwise why would anyone bother? Vindictively hurting other people in moments of rage can feel satisfying for folks who aren't being held accountable.

You say no one is modelling better behaviour to Efnisien so I'm just going to pose some questions that are rhetorical:

How many alphas at HIllview are mounting or torturing Efnisien every day? Does Efnisien have choices in what he eats? Is Efnisien's opinion listened to more and more, especially in matters of his health? Do they care about his pain and offer him painkillers when he's suffering? Are the characters in the story trying to enrich his experiences and help him to become a more mature person by helping him overcome his fears of things like going outside? Are the characters deliberately trying to expand his support network by helping him see new people and lean on them for help, instead of keeping him in a box and forbidding him from seeing anyone? While also taking into account the safety of others?

Are the characters largely gender affirming once they learn more about Efnisien?

Are the characters actively teaching Efnisien social sciences to help him understand more about the world and human rights, which includes his own rights?

Do the characters acknowledge that Hillview isn't an ideal place for Efnisien, just a good place for now?

Do the characters want Efnisien to have a future where he's happier?

Do the characters allow Efnisien to have his emotional responses as long as they're not also abusive responses? For example, is Efnisien allowed to cry, nest, seek comfort, or even be angry, provided he's not being domestically violent? (The answer is yes).

Do the characters to the best of their ability explain things clearly and maintain their own boundaries around Efnisien to remind him that he can also maintain his own boundaries?

Are Efnisien's wishes largely respected where possible? (The answer here is also yes - such as refusing internal exams with Temsen, or having control over what he does most days and how he spends his time etc.)

Can Efnisien see lots of examples of people talking civilly to each other and often with great care, and not being abusive to each other? Can he see alternative forms of conflict resolution, management and repair?

Is Efnisien offered opportunities to repair rifts that he's created himself, after being cruel to someone?

This is just a start, but these people through these behaviours are already role-modelling a ton of better behaviours than anything Efnisien has been exposed to in the past. And we can see that Gary himself role models a lot of these things to Efnisien directly, including apologising frequently and quickly when he realises he's made mistakes. This is how Efnisien learned to apologise! And he literally has thoughts like 'Gary does this / so I guess I should do it too.' That's literally role modelling a behaviour :D

Gary's actually a pretty good role model, and the only reason Efnisien's behaviour starts to improve at Hillview as well as his quality of life is because Gary and Temsen are role modelling these behaviours.

Like, temsen is technically correct that ef domestically abused gary but he has literally never seen a non abusive partnership and is literally a prisoner in his current one

Efnisien isn't literally a prisoner in his current relationship!

I feel like when folks identify really strongly with a character, it's very easy to miss the times when Gary and Temsen for example brainstorm ways for Efnisien not to live with Gary. Aside from at the very beginning, these characters have actually talked about - in the story, in dialogue - options for Efnisien to not live with Gary.

Like they literally talk about making Efnisien a new room in the headquarters and possibly even building him his own building down the track so he doesn't have to be with Gary! As they trust Efnisien more, they offer many options to him. As the story goes on, they are absolutely not forcing Efnisien to stay with Gary, and nor is Gary. Efnisien himself communicates clearly that he would rather live with Gary than be on his own. This is something that gets checked in on, and more than one option is given to him.

Missing this is understandable, it's a long story, but it also means it's not true that Efnisien is a prisoner in that he's being forced to live with Gary. That's only true in the beginning when they literally think he's just a murderer/attempted murderer who's going to kill everyone at Hillview. As the story progresses, it shifts to 'well he's not a murderer, what are his other options?'

Can Efnisien live a free life wherever he wants? No. That's where the 'dystopian universe' tag comes in. He's not safe to, but Hillview staff wouldn't be concerned with educating him and teaching him independence if they didn't want him to live as independently as possible one day. It's not like Gary has to try to get Efnisien comfortable with going outside and experiencing the outside world, and it's not like he has to encourage Efnisien to meet omegas and betas etc. to hear different opinions, y'know?

But yeah the role modelling is happening: Efnisien's showing more and more tools in coping all the time! He's been growing them since the beginning of the fic. He's learned to communicate better. He's learned how to articulate what he wants and doesn't want more clearly. He's learned how to care more for others even if he often misses that he has the power to really hurt them. He's learned more (not less) confidence. He's having less (not more) trauma responses. He's learned how to trust in the people around him more, so he's starting to talk more about his experiences of gender. He's learned that what he went through was wrong, and is sharing more about the abuse he suffered.

These things would not be happening in a story where people weren't giving him the tools to cope with his life or weren't showing him ways to communicate differently.

The reason Efnisien talks more clearly and articulately now in the story, the reason he laughs more, cries more (which is more open/honest imho and healthier than repressing it), talks more, talks about his past more, expresses his opinion more is because Hillview has been equipping him with more tools to live a richer life pretty much as soon as they realised he's not going to just murder people at the drop of a hat.

In some ways they're showing more trust than our society would because like, attempted murder could land him in jail for a while in our society, y'know?

The reason they haven't paired him with an actual psychologist is that they don't have any peak alpha psychologists and Efnisien can use alpha persuasion on anyone else, and would certainly get angry enough in therapy to use it. We only need to look at how Efnisien responded to Dr Gary in Falling Falling Stars sometimes in therapy sessions to see that yes, this is a guy who - if he had the tool of alpha persuasion - would absolutely use it to get a therapist to shut the fuck up when he felt like it, lol.

But yeah, as always, if folks are feeling really uncomfortable when reading something I've written, it's often intentional. You're right, Efnisien's situation is unfair. A few of the specifics you've brought up aren't true, and have missed things in the story, but it's still not a fair experience, it's not always a pleasant experience, and it's...pretty dystopian!

When we get really deep into our emotional connection to a character, it can still help to remember that the situation often isn't exactly the same as it feels. But this story also has the tags: darkfic / disturbing themes / dystopian universe for a reason! The visceral discomfort is a feature, not a bug.

#asks and answers #underline the black #underline the rainbow #falling falling stars #efnisien ap wledig #dr gary konowalous #ohlo ohlo temsen #a very long response sdfklfjas basically yes it's unfair #it's not *as* unfair as you say #but it definitely *feels* that unfair in the moment #especially the chapter where temsen lectures efnisien #temsen himself acknowledges that the situation isn't fair #and gary chastises temsen for it #and then gary is very caring to efnisien so you know #it's literally a moment in time where even gary #isn't holding efnisien accountable in the same way sdalfkjas #he's *upset* but that's different #we could have a whole other post about how gary's emotional responses dictate his #reactions to efnisien but that's a whole other thing #if i accidentally called you anon while writing this i'm really sorry #it's a habit i get into sdaflkjsa

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ladytauria · 2 days

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Omg are teenage fantasies side a&b about the same fantasy from different povs or jaytim playing out each other’s fantasies?

aaah i’m so glad you asked 😌

two different fantasies!!

so, teen fantasies side a is jason’s pov of tim narrating a fantasy he had of jason’s robin. tim is also acting out parts of the fantasy as he says them, with jason imagining them at the same time… a snippet to show what i mean:

Tim hums. “Well… there’s this one I thought about pretty often,” he says. “You’d rescue me—from a mugger, maybe, or from falling. You whisk me off somewhere safe, where you can make sure I’m okay… and lecture me about recklessness.” Tim’s mouth quirks. “I’m grateful. Not just for the save, but for everything. I don’t bother listening to the lecture.” Shocking. “Instead, I have to ask. How do you do it? How do you protect Gotham, and watch out for Batman, and still live a normal life? It must be so hard.” Jason can picture it. Being fifteen again, when Robin was losing its magic. When he looked around Gotham, seeing not the people they’d saved—but the one’s they hadn’t. The ones they failed. He’s fighting with Bruce more and more, questioning everything. Even school doesn’t offer an escape. And Dick—well. Dick is great, but busy. Distant. And always fighting with Bruce. He’s lonely. He doesn’t think he’d realized how much, then. And then— There’s Tim, looking at him with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, faintly awestruck and painfully earnest. In Jason’s mind, he’s not 12, 13 as he would have been, but 14. 15, even. Younger than him, but not young. “It is. I know it is, now, and even then I suspected. You brush it off, though. After all, you’re Robin. This is what you do. And I say, ‘Yeah—but. You deserve to get something back. To be taken care of.’” Fantasy-Tim’s cheeks grow red, while real-Tim’s pinken. “’Let me make you feel good.’ And I drop to my knees.” Jason’s breath catches. He’s flushed. His skin prickles; his cock stirs. Teenage-him probably would have panicked and fled, or tried to stop him; face tomato-red. Fantasy-teen Jason stays, biting his lip, back pressed against the wall, thighs parting. He wants. He’s nervous. But he needs this. Needs someone’s soft touch. Concern. Affection. Fifteen-year-old Jason needed so badly for someone to care.

side a is basically done except for like,,, editing the beginning. but i want to post them together/close together s…

teen fantasies side b is giving me trouble… it’s tim pov, and now it’s jason’s turn to narrate a scene from his teen years. now, um. i don’t actually have it written yet BUT, i did post about it… on twitter? i don’t remember if i posted here oops.

but BASICALLY, he had a major crush on diana which led to him imagining some… creative uses of the lasso of truth, including being bound up and made to ask, explicitly, for whatever he wanted her to do to him.

tim may not have a lasso of truth, but he (and jason) are both pretty skilled chemists AND live in gotham with plenty of access to various pollens <3

or, to make a long story short, consensual truth pollen fic

(edited bc i originally said 'sex pollen' when i meant 'truth pollen'. altho idk maybe they add an aphrodisiac component :P)

[ wip ask game ]

#i love the concept of ivy’s pollens and i also love twisting the usual usage of them #for funsies #lovely anons #asks and answers #jaytim #dcu #wip ask game

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

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do you know where "no beta we die like x" comes from and how it is used?

The term "beta" in this context is short for "beta reader" - a person who reads a fic while it's still in the editing stage and helps the writer get it ready to post. Some betas check grammar. Some check canon compliance. Some are sensitivity readers. There are lots of things that betas can do.

So functionally, saying "no beta" means that the writer didn't get this checked by a second person before they posted it. It's a warning that there might be errors or typos etc. It's mostly used when an author has written something quickly and is posting without doing a lot of (or any) edits first.

As for where it comes from? It all started with a bumper sticker.

This image was an internet meme at one point, and it got meme'd on in the form of "no ___ we ___ like men"

Here on tumblr, one of the versions that got really popular was from now-deleted user @grec1a who created this version:

From there, it migrated to AO3 as the "no beta we die like men" tag, and very often the word men is replaced by the name of a character who dies in canon.

#asks and answers

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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

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Okay but *gulp* soap with his dick slipping out and accidentally pressing into the wrong hole. Doesn’t stop him from continuing tho

listen LISTEN listen - yeah!! soap is 100% the kind of asshole to do this!!

1.7k soap x f!reader "wrong hole" drabble 🫶 (cw: pwp smut, noncon anal sex between partners (also unrealistic anal sex), pussy drunk johnny)

You arch further into Johnny, slick skin sliding along slick skin as your mouth drops open on a moan.

“Jo-Johnny,” you pant, gripping tightly to his broad shoulders. “Feels ssooo- so good.”

“Yeah?” He grunts from above you, mohawk messy and dripping sweat. “Bet it- bet it feels big, huh?”

You whine, pushing your hips closer to him as he slams home inside of you. “So big,” you agree, your mind draining from you slowly as he pulls nearly the entire way out on every thrust, leaving you almost empty before filling you to the brim. “God, you’re so good, Johnny.”

“Fuck, yes,” he pants, arms wrapping around your back and squeezing you tight to him. Your hips are pushed a little further up, a little closer to him. You wrap both your legs around his waist, hold him as tight as he does you. He only manages to keep up his rhythm through pure strength, easily able to overpower your grip.

“So good,” he mimics, eyes squeezed shut. You can’t look away from him - the sweat dripping down the side of his tanned face, the wrinkles and scars decorating his skin, the way he looks like he’s either in agony or euphoria. “Feel so perfect, so tight. Fuck, missed you so much, lass, missed your perfect cunt.”

Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he hits the perfect spot inside of you, body limp in his arms. You feel almost like a doll, like a toy for him to fuck, but he’s so good at it that you can’t even begin to care.

The both of you devolve into moans, occasionally trying to speak and choking on your words. You might feel embarrassed of what a mess Johnny’s made of you, if he weren’t in the same condition.

He pulls out completely on several thrusts in a row, both of you gasping at the sensation - you, because it’s a shock to go from nothing to everything completely and him, because every thrust inside of you when he’s pulled all the way out feels like the first. You dig your nails into his muscles, pushing your chest against his for all the physical contact you can manage.

It happens too quickly for you to even really notice. One second Johnny is rearranging your guts, giving you the best dick of your life, and the next you feel like you’re being torn in two.

You nearly scream, eyes flying open and nails dragging down his back, peeling skin off. Johnny’s loud groan drowns you out almost entirely, and he doesn’t seem to notice what he’s done.

You notice. Your unstretched ass feels like it’s on fire, and after your first sound of shock you can’t get enough breath in to try and say it hurts.

Johnny can’t thrust the whole way in, like he had in your pussy. Your body gives him too much resistance, which is what finally makes him realize.

You’re nearly blinded by the tears filling your eyes when he finally blinks open, staring down at you.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and you can feel his heart racing against your chest. “Did I-? Am I in your-?”

“Pull out,” you gasp, tapping at his back desperately. “Oh my god, Johnny, pull out, I can’t- fuck, you’re too big.”

That’s the wrong thing to say - instead of pulling out, he groans, dropping his forehead to yours and letting his eyes fall shut again. You let out a long, high whine when his hips push forward, slowly spearing you further and further on his cock.

You’re made mute by the pain, left only with your nails as defense as you try and tear his back to shreds. You should know better, though - Johnny’s a masochist, and pain you inflict only drives him more insane.

“God, you’re fuckin’ stranglin’ me,” he pants, pulling out just enough to force himself a few inches deeper. “Thought your cunt was tight, but it’s nothin’ compared to this.”

“Johnny- please.”

“So fucking warm.” He looks nearly delirious above you, pupils blown so wide you can barely see his iris even as close as you are. “Tight.”

“Johnny,” you whine, even as the slide becomes a little bit easier from all the slick dripping from your cunt. “Hurts, please, you gotta… gotta stop.”

He makes a sound that’s somewhere between soothing and a snarl, a low sound that makes you instinctually arch further towards him and then yelp when that gives him more leverage.

“You’re fine,” he comforts - well, the words should be a comfort but his tone is almost dismissive. “You’re wet, I can feel it.”

“Not enough,” you cry, half choking on a sob when you feel him finally bottom out inside of you. “Ok, ok, please pull- pull out, Johnny.”

“But you feel so good,” he purrs, butting his nose against your temple. “Fuckin’ hot little ass, huh lass? You’re squeezin’ me so good, you sure you want me to pull out?”

“Yes!”

You feel the sharp smile pressed against your temple and hiccup a sob, shifting your legs so that instead of wrapping around him you’re trying to push him away. But he’s too strong for you to make him move, and he only shoves himself even further inside of you by leaning his weight forward.

“I think you’re lying,” he almost sings, grinding his hips deep inside of you. He shifts briefly, holding himself above you on one arm and sneaking the other between your bodies and down to your pussy.

You cry out when his fingers work quickly at your clit, tight fast circle that have you shaking and moaning. It’s almost enough to drown out the pain of having your back hole stretched so ruthlessly - almost.

“Here,” he says, dipping his hand down a little further to almost scoop the slick dripping from you, smearing it around your plugged hole like he’s trying to make up for the lack of lube in the first place. He pulls out about halfway, thrusting back in and moaning when you cry out. “Th-there, how’s that feel?”

“Still hurts,” you manage to get out through your sobs, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

Johnny’s panting like a dog above you as he starts to fuck you again, his pace sharper and uncaring about your sensitivity. You can’t help but clench down, your inner muscles squeezing tight in an attempt to push him out that only drags him further in.

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it - as he moans repeatedly into your ear - while he fucks you. The pain eases after a bit, your own wetness making the path at least slightly easier, but the sharp sting never fully dissipates. Your tears don’t dry up, and you’re nowhere close to the orgasm that had been building before.

Johnny’s your complete opposite - he’s lost in his own pleasure, and your desperate scratches down his back only make things better for him. If you’d thought he was euphoric before, he looks like he’s found Nirvana now. You’re not sure if he’s so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he can’t hear your pain, or if your pain is what’s driving him more and more insane with pleasure.

For your own sake, you pray it’s the first.

He doesn’t last long - thank God - and only a few minutes later his thrusts get choppier and choppier, jerking in and out of you without any rhythm at all.

“Gonna make me come, bonnie, fuck.”

You can only stare wide-eyed at the ceiling as Johnny buries his face in the crook of your neck and comes deep inside of your ass, the hot spurt of his come a distant sensation with the stretch of his cock still at the front of your mind.

“Alright, alright, pull… pull out now, Johnny, please,” you beg again, too shell-shocked to even flinch at the embarrassing crack in your voice.

He obeys wordlessly, pulling his limp cock out slowly enough to make you whine when he finally leaves you empty.

“Hush, hush,” he quiets you, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone and brushing over your spread hole with his fingers. You jolt and whine, turning to press your face into his sweat-soaked mohawk. “You’re alright, didn’t even tear.”

“You-you sure?” You sniffle.

He chuckles a little, the sound vibrating through your chests. “Yeah, you’re alright, lass. Didn’t think I would really hurt you, did’ya?”

You can only whine.

His fingers dip inside your back hole just long enough to drag out some of his come, moving up to shove it inside of your pussy.

“There ya go,” he soothes, repeating the process again and again. “Still got a nice load in your guts, you're alright." His fingers lift to your clit, rubbing in perfect circles to make you arch and gasp, squirming for more pleasure despite the growing ache in your other hole.

He brings you to a slow orgasm, one that has the last of your tears dripping down your cheeks and clinging to his shoulders like a life raft. Your breaths are uneven, heartbeat quick in your chest, and you feel fuzzy around the edges.

Unlike usual, Johnny stops at one orgasm. You almost expect him to keep going like he always does, never satisfied with less than three for you and two for him, but he pulls his hand away after your first pained whines start again.

He doesn’t get off of you, letting his weight push you deeper and deeper into the couch cushions. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close to you and breathing in his musk. It takes a while to get your breathing even again, though Johnny’s levels out in moments.

You only let your eyes close once his snores start up, loud in your ear. The rumbling of his chest is a comfort, and you float into sleep with Johnny’s sweaty body pressed firmly against every part of yours, and the ache in your ass only growing more noticeable with every breath.

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mooreaux · 3 months

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i ADORE deirdre's design and the way you draw her she's sooooo cute.. esp her hair and freckles!

You made her day 💙

#my art #my oc #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #Deirdre fawn #asks and answers

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rwby-encrusted-blog · 1 month

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I got a promt idea. Saffron showing photos of when Jaune was cross dressing as a kid like wearing dresses (Either willing or forced by sisters) to who ever you want. Probably best to have at least 4 people react but I'm not the writer.

Yeah Four is about as many as I'm willing to do upon request

~~~~~

Saphron: And this is my Twelfth birthday! We managed to get that dress over his head without him waking up!

Penny: He is very adorable! I want to hug him very tightly!

Yang: Heh, Ruby wouldn't wear a dress like that unless she would die without it.

Penny: He seems to be more comfortable in feminine clothing nowadays.

Saphron: Yeah, there was an abundance of 'Girly' clothes at the house, and sometimes we couldn't get him 'appropriate' attire. He did get made fun of a few times, but me and the rest of our sisters took care of it.

Ruby: What'd your dad think about it.

Saphron: He didn't ... Necessarily like when we did it, but he also made sure to tell Jaune that he was his son no matter what he wore, Which is why Jaune's as comfortable as he is in other clothing.

Saphron: Honestly Dad was more upset about the footie pajamas than the dresses.

Weiss: *Licking her lips* Do you think we could get him to wear a dress now?

Penny: He did wear a dress to the Beacon Academy Dance. Him and the rest of JNPR quote "Tore up the Dance Floor"

Saphron: Really? Is there any photos?

Ruby: No ...

Yang: *Pulling out her scroll* But there is Video!

Weiss: Oh sweet Mana from heaven~

Penny: ...

Ruby: ...

Yang: ...

Saphron: Please refrain from thirsting over my brother when I'm Right here.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #penny polendina #saphron arc #saphron cotta arc #rwby shitpost #asks and answers #cheeseeater2 #whiteknight #rwby whiteknight

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zarla-s · 2 days

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I don't know if you're still into Star Control, but I remembered your art back in the day. You might be interested to know that the OG creators of Star Control are making a proper sequel. (Kickstarter: Free Stars: Children of Infinity.)

I AM ALWAYS INTO STAR CONTROL AND I DID SEE THIS!

I wanted to have it do a preview link but Tumblr DOES NOT LIKE THAT for some reason so you can see the Kickstarter here!

I've been following development for a while now and I'm intrigued about where it's going! It's still very hard for me to think of it as Free Stars and not Star Control, even though I know why they changed it, haha. I've got my eye on those enamel pin rewards, they'd look very nice on my hat...

#asks and answers #lordnarvi #star control 2 #free stars #children of infinity #the ur-quan masters #i want to imagine that's ZEX among the aliens there even though he clearly dies in the original game if you save the shofixti

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oldshrewsburyian · 1 year

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As much as I adore your (highly) interesting takes on medievalism and how it differs from what we actually know (or hypothesize) about the medieval period, I don't think I've ever asked: are there any books set in either the real middle ages or some fantasy approximation of the period that you WOULD recommend? They don't have to be "perfect" representations, obviously, but it would be nice to learn about any books that side-step the usual potholes. Thank you!

Hi, friend! A of all, thank you; B of all, there are and I would. From the following list it will become apparent that my criteria are idiosyncratic. Really, I think, the most important thing for my own enjoyment -- for any historical fiction, but especially for that set in the place/time I know best -- is that the work and its author are exploring the period as a way of opening up a conversation between past and present, rather than looking down on the past from the vantage point of the contemporary. This sententious prolegomenon concluded:

The Book Smuggler, Omaima Al-Khamis (eleventh-century Islamicate world, about knowledge and wisdom and religious intolerance)

Morality Play, Barry Unsworth (fourteenth-century England, about justice and law and vocation and community)

The Name of the Rose, Umberto Eco (doesn't need my introduction, hilarious and deeply poignant meta-meditation on the genre of the detective story, also on theological debates and the love of one's neighbor and the nature of fear)

Sword at Sunset, Rosemary Sutcliff (fifth-century post-Roman Britain, has some clichés, also some magic, but is so richly imagined and full of people I love. Also good dogs.)

Cadfael Chronicles, Ellis Peters (twelfth-century England; I was wondering why I love these so much and I think a lot of it comes back to how much Ellis Peters loved the particular place she lived/set the books in, and watching the changing of the seasons there, so that that close observation of time -- very medieval! -- is also central. Inequality isn't made invisible or grotesque here, either, and it's often one or the other in Fictional Medieval Europe.)

Isaac of Girona mysteries, Caroline Roe (C14 Spain, also whodunits, but I cannot resist including this charming series about a blind Jewish doctor and his beloved wife and his daughters and the orphan he adopts and his chess-playing buddy the bishop and and and....! It's great.)

The History of the Siege of Lisbon, José Saramago (C12/C20 Portugal, called "metafiction about the instability of history and the reality assumed by fiction" by Kirkus Reviews and... yeah!)

She Who Became The Sun, Shelley Parker-Chan (C15 Ming China, with ghosts, definitely fantasy rather than regular historical fiction, and on the cusp of early modernity, also so so interesting)

The Apothecary's Shop, Roberto Tiraboschi (C12 Venice, deeply weird -- affectionate -- and drawing on Calvino and gialli as well as medieval history; some inaccuracies about women and medicine but I still found it compelling and thought-provoking)

#historical fiction #fun with medievalism #book recommendations #asks and answers

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bokettochild · 1 month

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Why is everyone upset about the LU fandom? Lot of ranting about tropes and characterizations??

I think it's because we're left on a low spot right now in the LU story, so people are using their time to not theorize but rather break down the plot and whatnot. Some people, for lack of new content, are turning to fan-fiction, and I guess they're not finding content that matches their expectations.

It's valid, of course, to maybe be irritated by a lack of characterizations in the way that you perceive them, but it seems that people are forgetting the major rule of fandom: if it doesn't make you happy, don't badmouth, just walk away. Instead of accepting that no creator is perfect and not everyone will write the characters and plots the same way, readers and fans are complaining about the lack of consistency. They want what they want and they're not finding it, but they're taking this as a chance to make it everyone else's problem, which is unfair.

We as writers are doing this for free. Artists are doing their work for free. We are not under any obligation to make things to suit what other people want. That we share our creations like a smorgasbord for people to select from, is taken for granted. Furthermore, they are not willing to look past the options they don't like and just pick out what they do. No, they're complaining that the options they don't like exist at all, with no consideration that it might be the only thing someone else likes.

I think the fans are just being picky eaters right now, and quite frankly, they desperately need someone to tell them to just ignore the content they find nasty instead of making others feel bad for enjoying it.

Tropes do not harm anyone. Imperfections are part of the learning process. Don't make fandom like real life. We shouldn't have to study and take notes on finite details just to be allowed to enjoy it.

Dear Writers,

Write your tropes and inconsistencies! Have your characters OOC! Do what makes you happy, and don't take crap from those who don't like it!

Dear Artists,

Have fun experimenting with your designs and headcannons! Make what you want, and don't listen to anyone who tells you it doesn't match JoJo's work. She's her own person, you are your own person, your art should be different! It's ore delightful that way!

#asks and answers #linkeduniverse #linked universe

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pixierainbows · 2 months

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Pixie, I am autistic, and considered low support needs/high functioning.

I want you to know I consider you a vital part of my autistic community. You’re as important as a heartbeat. You’ve shown me an autistic journey very different from my own and reminded me to always include high support needs/low functioning autistics when I speak out.

I’m so, so, so sorry for the way the wider community has treated you. Please know they do not speak for me, and I will always consider you part of my autistic family. You’re just as important as any of us.

thank you very much ! :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

pixie is very rare get message so kind and welcoming

Pixie really appreciate this message make Pixie all happy wiggles

#asks and answers #actually disabled #actually nonverbal #actually autistic #low functioning #high support needs #full time AAC user #able body

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erisenyo · 4 months

Note

“Oh fuck oh FUCK” + Zukka please!

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (And this one too lol)

Zuko isn’t sure what posses him to actually say yes when the last hotel calls back to regretfully confirm that there will be no vacancies tonight and the cute mechanic lets up the truly over-the-top flirting to half-shyly offer Zuko a place to stay that night—

“Well, not my house,” Sokka—not Hakoda, going by the wince when Zuko had called him that, even though that’s what’s embroidered over his pocket—says, tugging on his wolf tail, ��It’s my dad’s house. But he’s away!” Sokka says, excited and quickly tacking on when he seems to hear himself, “He’s helping out my Gran Gran! So I’m house-sitting! And keeping this place going—”

He waves a hand around the auto shop, making Zuko intensely curious about what Sokka does if not this all the time. He looks good in those overalls...

Not that Zuko has the chance to ask.

“—and so don’t worry, there’s plenty of space. I’m not suggesting you stay in my room—or, well, actually it is my room, but from when I was a kid, not you know, my room. I don’t live there anymore—”

Zuko wonders where he does live, if it’s close to the band’s recording studio, or any of their homes, and Ty Lee is always renting apartments all over the place maybe Zuko could—

“—but it’s still a totally good room still, like quiet but not creepily so, you know? And you can stay there. Or not! Absolutely no pressure, like obviously if you want to keep calling hotels or I mean I guess we could make up the couch in the office, though I wouldn’t recommend it," Sokka adds, frowning at the couch in question. "You end up with this really weird crick in your—”

“Yes,” Zuko interrupts, "Yes, a place to say would be great," he says, putting Sokka out of his misery. Even though he’s been enjoying the rambling train of Sokka’s thoughts all day, and he really shouldn’t impose, and Zuko might feel comfortable after so many hours of Sokka trying to figure out Zuko’s car but he doesn’t actually know the guy, and—

Sokka breaks into a grin, wide and pleased and clearly delighted and Zuko’s stomach flips the way it’s been doing all day and right. Right. That. That’s why Zuko said yes, even though he knows it’s stupid, even though it would be easier to just ask for the guy’s number even if as a rule Zuko doesn’t give out his own. Even though Mai would take one look at Sokka and give Zuko one of those knowing looks of hers and he hates being so predictable but shit, this guy is such his type.

Which means he’s not disappointed when Sokka says, “Awesome, dude! We can grab burritos on the way back!”

Dude.

And burritos.

But Zuko’s not disappointed, he’s not. He’s…relieved. To have a place to stay tonight that’s not a dubious-looking couch, or the back of his own barely-fits-two-people car. And to not be recognized—not that he ever is—because the last thing he needs on top of his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, meaning he’s absolutely going to miss his flight—shit, Uncle is going to be so disappointed…—is to be dealing with fans.

Pestering him for info about the rest of the Dangerous Ladies, or trying to sniff out rumors about the relationships they’re all convinced are happening within the band, or hating him for breaking Mai’s heart as if it wasn’t mutual and years ago anyway. and they’re still in the band so clearly it’s fine, Mai didn’t even write that song, and—

And it’s fine. Zuko doesn’t even know what he was worried about in the first place. For someone with a massive facial scar, he's proven shockingly unrecognizable without a flaming guitar in his hands. Which is fine. Exactly how he likes it.

So what if he almost never gets his own posters of magazine covers? So what if he's tucked off to the side or in the back of all the official merch and the band has a running collection of all the albums and magazine covers and t-shirts that inexplicably end up with a price sticker over his and only his face?

It’s better than getting mobbed every time he leaves the house like Azula and getting pelted with rumors like Ty Lee and having his every expression scrutinized like Mai. It's better than having every outfit analyzed and every tilt of his head breathlessly redescribed and every photo and appearance and sighting on the street turned into screenshots and phone backgrounds and gif sets and spank bank material, better than everyone he meets tripping to fall into his bed and—

Really. It’s better.

“Here it is, the humble abode!” Sokka gives Zuko an uncertain flash of a smile as holds open the door, like he thinks someone who drives a Porsche so tricked out Sokka had had to psych himself up to actually touch it is going to judge a well-loved ranch house, which…well. Maybe isn’t such a bad assumption.

Zuko hastily makes sure his expression is set into something attentive and interested, his June is talking face, as Azula calls it.

“You’ve got your kitchen here,” Sokka says, flicking on a light to show the worn, comfortable-looking space. “Glasses are over the sink, snacks are in the fridge and in the tall cabinet if you need anything. There’s some leftovers in the freezer you can reheat, too, if you want. Oven, microwave, all the good stuff, you just, you know. Hit the buttons, and—”

And Sokka is clearly back to nervous rambling, because Zuko doesn’t think he’s going to need to eat for the rest of the week after finishing that burrito. A fucking burrito. Ugh, if there’s ever a less sexy food, and then to eat so much of it nervously pacing Sokka that Zuko actually contemplated whether he could subtly unbutton his jeans in the car…

“…and the bedrooms are this way, and the bathroom—it’s shared, sorry,” Sokka adds, glancing back to give Zuko an apologetic look. Zuko hastily jerks his eyes up off Sokka’s ass. “Probably not what you’re used to, I know. But it’s just you and me, so it won’t be too bad!”

“It’s perfect,” Zuko says, trying for a smile and blinking when Sokka just coughs, a blush staining his cheeks as he quickly gets back to his tour.

“Extra blankets and stuff are here,” Sokka says, rapping on a closed door. “Towels, pillows, the works. There should be some extra shampoo and soap and stuff in there too, if you need it.”

“Sounds like you have everything covered,” Zuko says, hearing the awkward edge of his words but still trying to reach for some of the joking, playful easiness of earlier today. “Quite the full-service auto shop you’re running.”

“Uh…yeah.” Sokka freezes a little, eyes wide, which…great. Zuko isn’t surprised he missed the mark, but still. He thought he’s at least better these days than when Azula firmly told him he was no longer allowed to speak in interviews until he could be sure he wasn’t going to end up in another bloopers reel.

“Anyway!” Sokka finally says, shaking himself, his voice coming out suddenly squeaky, which— “Here’s your room, have a good night, make yourself comfy I’ll seeyoutomorrow!”

Zuko blinks again, nonplussed. Did Sokka just...run away? In his own home?

"That's that then," Zuko sighs ruefully—the flirting had been so outrageous that Zuko couldn’t quite believe it was actually real, so—giving the closed door Sokka had disappeared behind one last look before slipping into his room.

Which is very much a teenager’s room, holy—Zuko nearly laughs as he realizes why Sokka was so quick to make that clear. And a well-lived in one, at that, LEGOs on the shelves and cheap trophies for science fairs lined up across the dresser, half-faded posters and clipped-out pictures tacked over the walls and old art supplies still scattered over the desk.

It's cluttered and eclectic and...cute. Cute in the same way Sokka is cute, and he’d probably hate being called that which just makes Zuko want to do it even more, Zuko’s lips curled again into the little smile he feels like he's been wearing all day as he sprawls back on the neatly-made twin bed and immediately makes eye contact with himself.

On the ceiling.

Shirtless.

Life-sized.

Zuko’s mind immediately supplies the details—that Rolling Stones cover shoot for their third album, right before Zuko had turned twenty, when he was still somehow managing to keep up his martial arts training because who needed sleep, definitely not him. He and Ty Lee had been goofing off while Mai and Azula got their makeup finished, flexing their muscles and trying to out-flexible each other and the photographer had loved it and had them run with it, who could pose the most creatively with the most outrageously flexed muscles and —

Zuko slowly closes his mouth and rapidly reconsiders that whole ‘not recognized’ thing...

Sokka is giving his teeth the most thorough, most frustrated brush of his life—ugh, burritos. Why did he suggest burritos—when he nearly chokes on his toothpaste as he suddenly realizes that he just put Zuko Hua in his— “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

Oh…fuck.

Katara is never going to let him live this down.

He is so, so fucked.

#asks and answers #prompt games #Not me suddenly having inspiration that fit uhhh 3 months later lol #fic writing #my writing #Sokka #Zuko #Zukka #Zukka fic #Rockstar Zuko AU

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ladytauria · 5 months

Note

"tell me a secret" with jaytim if youre still taking prompts, been enjoying all of the snippets!

um.

so.

this one ran away with me. a little bit.

it's. it feels very messy. but i like the direction i ended up going with it. i think--- i think i might revisit this premise again. but for now, nonny, i hope you like it!

(also, i'm glad you enjoyed my snippets~)

There are few things worse than truth pollen, in Tim’s opinion. Give him fear gas or sex pollen any day of the week. Losing control of his tongue, confessions spilling from his mouth, helpless to do anything to stop it… It makes him shudder just to think about.

However—

He would gladly have taken a blast of truth pollen right to the face, if it meant Jason wouldn’t have.

Jason’s locked himself in an isolation cell, now, while Tim synthesizes an antidote. The general pollen vaccine had done little to help the effects of this strain. Confessions had tumbled from Jason’s lips all the way home, all through the blood draw. Tim tries hard not to think about them, to forget them completely, but they linger in the back of his mind. Whether he wants them to be or not, he knows they’ve been imprinted in the back of his mind, where they’ll be sorted and cataloged, brought out later if ever he needs them.

He never forgets. It’s something of a curse.

As soon as the antidote finishes, Tim sends it to Jason through a panel in the isolation cell. It should take an hour for it to kick in—Tim will be upstairs, whenever Jason is ready.

Two hours pass before Jason joins him. Tim sits at the kitchen island, hands around a mug. Steam still wafts up from it; his face warm and damp where it caresses his skin.

“That better not be coffee,” Jason says. He sounds even grumpier than usual—not that Tim can blame him.

He chooses not to comment on his mood, for the moment.

“It’s not,” he says. “It’s tea.” He pauses. “Herbal tea.”

Jason grunts.

“There’s some for you on the counter.” He gestures.

Jason rounds the counter, finally coming into view. Tim’s shoulders loosen a little at the sight of him; curls and skin damp from a shower, cotton tee sticking to him. Sweatpants ride low on his hips. His socks have little gray cats on them.

“Did your cameras alert you I was coming up?”

Tim ignores the confrontational sneer in his tone. “No.”

For a moment, Jason’s body tenses like he’s going to challenge him on it—turn it into a fight, until one of them storms out or ends up sleeping in the guest room. Then he finds his tea, in a thermal traveling cup. The tension drains from him, then; weariness in the bow of his shoulders. He takes the cup and joins Tim at the island, settling onto the stool next to his.

Their shoulders brush. Tim knows it’s as close to an apology as he’ll get right now. He brushes against him again when he raises his mug to his mouth; a silent forgiveness.

Jason drinks his tea. He hums softly; a quiet, pleased noise.

They drink in silence. Tim wouldn’t describe it as comfortable, but the air isn’t as thick with tension as it could have been. He knew they would have to address it before they went to sleep; knew, for a while at least, that things would be… delicate. He’s not looking forward to walking on tiptoes—but it’s better than the alternative. It’s better than Jason leaving.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Tim murmurs, finally. “I’m not— I won’t ask. We can pretend like you never said anything.”

Jason is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper. Tim isn’t sure he would have heard it, if he hadn’t been listening for it.

He brushes against him again, as he gets up to put his mug in the sink. He smooths his hand over Jason’s back; from one shoulder to the other as he walks by—both touches a silent reassurance.

He puts his mug in the sink and stops by Jason again. This time, he kisses his temple. “I’m going to bed,” he murmurs. “Join me when you’re ready.”

Jason leans into his touch—turning, when Tim pulls away, to catch around the waist and pull him close. He kisses the corner of Tim’s eye. “I love you,” he murmurs.

Tim squeezes his forearm. “I love you too,” he breathes.

They stay like that for a moment—a long moment. And then, finally, Jason lets him go, smearing another kiss against his skin when he does. Tim lingers a moment more, and then he heads off to their bedroom.

It’s maybe ten, fifteen minutes before Jason joins him, curling up in Tim’s arms; letting Tim plaster himself against his back, sighing sweetly when Tim’s chin rests atop his curls. He tangles their fingers together over their stomach.

Tim falls asleep knowing everything is going to be okay.

Tim doesn’t just forget about it. He can’t—though he tries. The things Jason said turn over and over in his mind, every time there’s a lull at work, on patrol, in the quiet moments he spends with Jason. He keeps his word. He doesn’t ask about them. He doesn’t even go digging through Batman’s files, or the city’s files—although the temptation sits heavy on his shoulders.

Instead—he ends up thinking, again and again, about secrets.

About Jason’s. About his own. About all the things that sit, buried deep under his tongue, where he would never dare to speak them aloud. But the more he thinks about the more he sees them as cracks—fissures, things not sitting quietly in himself but things keeping them apart.

He finds himself wanting to dig them up. To look at them in the light, offer them to Jason; see if he finds even those parts of him worth loving.

He wants to do the same to Jason. To look at the ugliest parts of him again—this time without the wrongness of pollen coating them—and cradle them in his hands, tuck them in the spaces between his ribs. Soothe the hurts they left behind.

Tim knows Jason won’t let him.

But.

Tim has never needed reciprocation.

He starts offering them, impromptu, in their quiet moments.

“Sometimes I feel more like myself in a dress and heels than I do in a suit,” he confesses, while Jason is reading; Tim’s head in his lap while he plays on his switch. “I’ve thought about looking into it—but honestly. Exploring... that on top of everything else just sounds exhausting.”

Jason pauses, fingers in Tim’s hair, and says, “If you ever want to, I’ll support you. I’ll love you, no matter what you decide.”

Tim turns and kisses his stomach.

A few days later, they’re cooking together. Tim stirs noodles, while Jason chops vegetables. “The first time I dressed up as a woman, I looked so much like my mother I almost couldn’t leave the manor. I don't think I would have, if not for the mission.”

The knife pauses; the sound of chopping stops. “That must have been a lot,” Jason says, tentatively.

Tim doesn’t have to look over to know Jason is giving him a weird look. He can feel it on the back of his head.

“It was,” he agrees. “Are you sure I salted this enough?”

His next confession is delivered when Tim is donning one of his aliases for an undercover job. Jason is sweet enough to do up his zipper for him.

“I created my first alias when I was seven. I mean, I guess it was more playing pretend, but... I dunno. It felt more serious than that, even then. I kept making more as I got older, trying them on... whenever I felt like it. Now it’s something I do as a hobby, to keep my skills sharp, but there was a time when I wanted to be anyone other than Tim Drake.”

Jason meets his eyes in the mirror; gaze unfathomable. “What changed?”

Tim’s lips quirk. “It’s hard to fall in love as anyone but yourself.”

The flush on Jason’s face is vivid red. Tim is helpless to do anything but turn and kiss him.

After a fight, Tim calls Jason. It goes straight to voicemail—not unexpected. It still makes his heart clench. He ignores it, instead offering,

“Jason… I’m sorry, for what I said, earlier. It— It wasn’t true. I meant it when I said I can live with you killing. I don’t—I don’t… The truth is, I don’t disagree with your methods. I’m tempted to join you, sometimes. A lot of times. I’m tempted to go even further, too. I… Sometimes I think the only thing that keeps me from going bad is Dick’s disappointment. Bruce’s, too, but. I don’t care what he thinks as much anymore.

“Some days the temptation is stronger than others, though. And that— It scares me. I cling tighter to the rules in response. I… It’s not an excuse for me to hurt you, though. I’m sorry. I love you. Come home whenever you’re ready.” He’s crying when he finishes, hanging up the phone. Thinks about staying in the basement; distracting himself with cold cases instead of going to bed.

He decides he’s disappointed Jason enough.

Jason comes home that night. Slips into their bed, gathering Tim in his arms.

“You could never go bad,” he whispers. “You’re too fucking good, Tim.”

Tim shakes his head, burying his face in Jason’s neck. “If I convinced myself it was right, or for a good cause…” He holds him tighter.

Jason is quiet. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Tim doesn’t even hesitate.

“Then trust that I wouldn’t let you.”

Tim knows Jason has broken his own moral code more than once.

He also knows that Jason is far more careful with the people he loves than he is himself.

It’s a trait they share.

So he nods. “Okay.”

“And you’ll do the same for me,” he says, softly—almost tentatively.

Tim holds him tighter. “Yes.”

He’s quiet for so long Tim thinks he falls asleep. Then, he offers, quietly, “Sometimes I think I’ll go too far, and— You’ll leave. Or that you’ll wake up one day, and realize I’m not going to change, that… That you can’t handle the killing after all. I don’t… I don’t want to lose you.” He doesn’t say, I thought I was losing you tonight, but Tim hears it anyway.

He kisses Jason’s neck. “You won’t,” he says, confidently. “But— If you ever do, or if it looks like you’re going to— I promise I’ll tell you. Warn you. I won’t just disappear without giving you a chance.”

Jason shudders in his arms. He tucks his face in Tim’s hair—Tim cups the back of his neck in response. “Feels like all you’ve given me a hundred second chances,” he whispers.

Tim nuzzles him. “I’ll give you a hundred more. You’re worth it.”

Jason starts making his own confessions, after that.

He lights a candle on the coffee table, filling the air with the scent of sandalwood. Then he stops. Turns his lighter over in his hand—flicks it on, then off again.

“I didn’t stop smoking because of how I died, or the Pit, or Talia, or for my health, or—any of the bullshit reasons I told everyone else. Sheila— Cigarettes remind me of her. The way she just sat there and watched.”

Tim stands, stepping into his space. He winds his arms around Jason’s waist. “You deserved better,” he says, quietly.

“We both did.”

‘We’ means Tim and Jason. It also means Sheila and Jason. Tim doesn’t know if he agrees with the latter—but. Whatever else she was, she was Jason’s mother, and that means something to Jason. So, he says nothing. Just presses a kiss to Jason’s shoulder.

After a rough patrol, another argument between Jason and Bruce—one that took both Nightwing and Red Robin to break up—Jason sits in the medbay of Tim’s nest, letting him stitch up his arm.

Tim is almost done, when Jason says, “I’ve given up on Bruce killing the Joker for me. I wish he’d let me do it. More than that—I just. I want him to tell me, to my face, that he missed me. That he loved me. That the loss of me was something painful. That—That he still loves me. I don’t. I don’t want to hear it from someone else. But I know— I know he won’t. The man who would have died with me, and sometimes I think that’s the worst of it all.”

Tim snips the thread, laying the needle down. He kisses the skin just above the wound, and lingers there. “I’m sorry.”

Jason is quiet. Then he turns, pressing his nose into Tim’s hair. He doubts it smells great—he hasn’t had time to hit the showers yet—but Jason doesn’t seem to care. “Me too,” he whispers.

Tim gets a box of cologne samples in the mail. He’s going through them, just for fun—handing the ones he likes best to Jason. As he passes over the third, Jason says,

“I don’t remember what Mom’s voice sounded like anymore—but. I found the perfume she loved. It was one of the most expensive things we owned. She only got it out for special occasions, or—or when she was sad, and needed something to help remind her of the good times. I— When I smell it, I can almost hear her again. Singing in the kitchen, or… Reading with me on the couch.”

Tim puts the cologne samples down. He tucks himself against Jason’s side and holds him tight. The vulnerability in Jason’s voice, in his expression… It scares Tim almost as much as it awes him. He just— He wants to protect him, to hold the softest parts of Jason close, where nothing and no one can hurt him again.

It’s an impossible wish, but. That won’t stop him from trying.

“Tell me about her?” he asks softly, laying his cheek over Jason’s heart. The steady beat is calming.

Hesitatingly—haltingly—

Jason does.

It keeps going. Back and forth.

“Sometimes I think no one actually wants me around—that people are happier when I’m not there.”

“I think I left a piece of myself in the grave. It hurts less that it’s missing these days, but. It still hurts.”

“I never felt like I was alive until I became Robin. That’s part of why losing it hurt so much.”

“Sometimes Bruce and Dick will mention things—and I don’t remember them. They sound like happy memories, but, when I go poking around, all I can find are blank spaces. It’s fucking terrifying.”

“In the early days—sometimes Bruce would forget, and call me by your name. I… It feels awful to admit, but. Those nights were my favorite.”

“I hate looking in the mirror. For—for a million fucking reasons, but one of ‘em is how much I look like my dad. Like Willis. He wasn’t a bad man, except when he drank. He just… he drank a lot. I don’t want to be him.”

Secrets traded, back and forth. A lot of them big, some of them small. Always in the quietest moments, in the carefullest tones. Each one met with acceptance, with love.

Tim feels freer than he ever has. Not even swinging between buildings leaves his step so light.

He thinks Jason feels the same; thinks he smiles more, now. Tim has caught him humming in the kitchen more than once—finds himself humming the same tune.

Tim has never needed reciprocation to love someone.

Jason has given it to him anyway.

Ivy’s not done with truth pollen—determined to perfect this strain. This time, Tim is on the other side of the city when Jason catches a face full. He doesn’t miss a beat; working with Spoiler to wrangle her back to Arkham. As soon as it’s handled, he beelines back to the Nest.

Tim meets him there.

Jason doesn’t lock himself in an isolation cell, this time. He works with Tim to distill the antidote. Tim isn’t foolish enough to believe that all of the secrets Jason has buried in the recesses of his mind have come to light. He knows his haven’t. He knows, too, that for both of them, there are some which never will. That's okay. Jason has shared enough that the pollen’s compulsion has little to cling to; little to nourish its roots.

So this time—he doesn’t talk as much, this time; only the occasional confession spilling from his lips.

Most of them make Tim blush.

It’s a torturous hour—albeit for entirely different reasons than last time—and it ends not with a shared cup of tea but Tim pinned to the wall in the Nest shower, Jason on his knees, worshiping him until stars burst behind his eyes.

Tim turns the tables on him as soon as he remembers which way is up—and then they stumble upstairs, to bed, curling into one another like two mis-matched halves.

Jason tangles their fingers together. “Tell me a secret,” he whispers, to the darkness of the room.

Tim does.

#jaytim #timjay #dcu #tauriawritesfanfic #asks and answers #lovely anons #this is almost 3k <3

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