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inkskinned · 5 months

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the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.

the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.

friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.

if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!

what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!

people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.

you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.

your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.

#writeblr #i actually didn't want a girlfriend before nat #and my dad recently said to me - raquel. i don't approve of the promiscuity #1. i am 30.#2. i had casually dated about 4 people over 18 months.#3. i do believe he was just mad that i get more girls than he ever did #i had to look this 60 yr old deacon in the eye and say. okay so i have a girlfriend first of all im just not tellin yall about her #and secondly.#OKAY???? OLD MAN I DONT EVEN LIVE HERE WHAT ARE U GONNA DO ABOUT IT #briefly considered asking nat if i could pretend we were a one night stand kind of a thing

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kindnessoverperfection · 9 months

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Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

#actuallynpd #signal boost #actuallyautistic #mental health awareness #narcissistic personality disorder #people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias #(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar #mentally ill or otherwise ND)#the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there'#no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo #anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that #he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful #misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included #several personality disorders. one of which was NPD.#and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and #he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he #was glad he did #fun times #or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to #support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma #bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me #trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them.#again..... fun times

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puppetmaster13u · 25 days

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Prompt 271

“Grandmother is visiting,” Damian suddenly said with no warning and with his usual not-quite demanding tone.

“Who?” Tim wasn’t the only one to startle, seeing as Bruce had practically froze, a downturn to his lips in a silent show of confusion.

Damian scowled. “Are you deaf Drake? Grandmother is coming to Gotham to, quote, make sure I am being properly cared for.” None of them had known that Ras was with anyone actually. At least Tim was pretty sure that would have been in the files.

“Oh?” Dick didn’t quite crouch to Damian’s height but it was a near thing. “She-” “He,” Damian corrected, interrupting him. They all exchanged a glance before Dick continued.

“Is he coming to the Manor or…”

Damian scoffed again, a tiny bit of a flush against his face. “No, Grandmother will most likely be staying with Akhi-”

Now wait one moment-

“YOU HAVE ANOTHER BROTHER?!”

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Deadly Decisions #Danny & Ras are the homoerotic rivals that no one knows if they’re flirting or attempting a murder #It’s actually both they’re just also both Immortal #Danny to Jason: You can become a crime lord if you finish college- you’ve said you wanted to get a degree this is ur chance #Dusan (nodding): Mother has made all of us finish at least our basic education nephew #Why yes this does mean that RH has just made the heads in a duffel bag debut & the bats have no clue it’s Jason #Normally Danny wanders the universe but RAS (affectionately derogatory) HOW DARE U TRY TO HIDE THE GRANDCHILDREN #Morally Gray Danny #He’s well over 300 and that has an affect lol #Also has some fun fae vibes thx to his ghost half & human half finally balancing out #Let Jason & Damian be brothers #Tiny Damian: Akhi look I found a frog :>#Jason (newly not brain damaged & has no clue who this small child is): …. That’s great #Tiny Damian: *GASP* Akhi you can talk now :D #Fuck it- all the Al Ghuls deserve fangs from ecto contamination #Is Danny actually Dusan & Talia’s mother? No one knows and no one wants to ask the probably immortal fae being okay #Danny brought Damian a ghost hound puppy & Jason an original signed Pride & Prejudice book #How come Bruce wasn’t aware of Danyal? Talia forgot to inform him that the mother she was speaking of is in fact still alive #He disappears for a decade sometimes longer she was using past terms how was he supposed to know

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secondbeatsongs · 5 months

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hey, don't cry

tumblr is the new pdf! ok?

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harasharaved · 9 months

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The fact that Judaism is trending because of both the wave of bomb threats on synagogues and Bradley Cooper's Antisemitism Adventure (his huge fake prosthetic nose, and him basically stealing the story from a Jewish man) is so infuriating and so exhaustingly typical.

The fact that I see Judaism trending on Tumblr and immediately think "oh no. Something Bad is happening to us." We're never trending cause it's fucking good. I never get to be excited, it's just cold dread.

The fact that Antisemitism is getting worse everyday and the only ones who ever talk about it are other Jews. The fact that no one else fucking cares. The only ones who support us are other Jews. Even when gentiles talk about Nazis or white supremacists they don't want to help us. We're just their prop, the canary in the coal mine and the perfect victim.

The fact that everyone's uncomfortable with Jews still being here. Reminding them of things they'd rather forget.

The fact that it'd be easier for them if we were all dead. Then they could tell stories about our people, dressed in offensive caricatures, without us making a fuss.

#im so fucking pissed right now #jew tag #judaism #jumblr #when will we be able to catch a fucking break man #i keep thinking about dara horn man #she said it best #a hundred times #Sarah's bullshit #I'll probably delete this later i just AUGH #g-d im angry i just wanted to rant #me and every jewish person ever who went to hebrew school or shul or anything #we have armed security guards as some flimsy protection so we dont get hate crimed #so no one comes in and shoots our kids #by the way. its not normal. its been all ive ever known though #g-d forbid one of those bomb threats is real will gentiles slap on a fake nose and make a movie about it twenty years later

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gnomeantics · 4 months

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i was watching the new quinton reviews video and this computer immediately stuck out to me because ??? so i stuck it into MS paint and i've discovered that the computers of mid-late icarly are on a whole other level & i want whatever this OS has going on. it is a gender to me

#quinton reviews #icarly #this is what happens when girls have autism and microsoft paint #i love how it's supposed to be a mac but they just went Well fuck that #got really worried i'd said the wrong version of windows media player for a minute but it's alright it is 11 #i was zoomed in on the image so i scrolled over to look at the windows key (see if there was one and if so what style/era) and i just see #this fucking . pear. i have to say i admire that dedication #to making the world's most glorious operating system... with a rainbow pear windows key #i want to know what happens if you press it #does this baby have windows + tab aero peek #hall of fame #1k #gnomeantics original 🌟

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months

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Bonus 7: Time moves sideways

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #better drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #Despite a whole ass inspiration board for reference - it turns out drawing and colouring half submerged people is a CHALLENGE.#I am channeling the zoobie bunny and internally screaming “WHY DID YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA”.#What I wanted was a cool transition between present and past! What I got was a very full mouth of my own foot!#That said: there are aspects I really like about this one and I feel like I got most of the way to where I wanted it to be.#Water is hard to draw and I am saying that even after dedicating a full 4 page comic with people in the water.#Forget hands. Water is my new nemesis.#I love how floaty this flashback transition was. The hazy mind wandering as LWJ carries him as a set up to recollection!#Aren't memories an incredible thing? To relive a moment in your mind? To have time repeat again and again?#And yet it is always a little different when we go to recall it once again. We are different people than the person we once were.

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smutty-books · 2 years

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One of my favorite songs on Kamikaze and I love this interaction. The little smirk and twinkle in his eyes as he's joking.

#eminem #he needs to stop looking so damn fine #lucky you #kamikaze #joyner lucas #bts #he’s to damn cute #have I said I want one #cause I want one

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ewwww-what · 16 days

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friendship so strong it grants you a sixth level spell slot. I have words to say.

#you aren’t always supposed to handle doubt alone.#even if you aren’t afraid of the dark it’s easier to navigate with someone holding your hand #Kristen said ‘I just love my friends. I love my friends so much.’#and Fig said ‘maybe I’m not an artist. maybe I’m just a really good friend.’#and everyone in the world wanted me to be okay and normal about it #queerplatonic love comes in so many forms and this is one of them #fig and Kristen. fig and Kristen. fig. Kristen.#also also #I’ve been so emotional about the fact that all of the bad kids care so deeply about Cassandra despite not worshiping her #‘I believe in Cassandra because I’ve seen her!’ like they have come eye to eye with a goddess and chose the mutual friends route #god I love it so much #also nonbinary fig believers how are we feeling tonight #fantasy high #d20 #d20 fantasy high #d20 fanart #fh #fantasy high fanart #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy #fig faeth #fig fantasy high #kristen applebees #kristen fantasy high #faebees #queerplatonic #that’s important to me. that is an important part of this.#undescribed #my art

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napping-sapphic · 7 months

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I just want to fall in love with someone who makes me feel safe like even when we’re angry or sad or upset i just want to know that both of us are still going to be okay

#wlw #wlw mood #sapphic #sapphism #lesbian #today was….not good #and at one point i had a moment #where i was just unbearably SAD and LONELY because i didn’t have anyone to call or talk to about it #but im still really hopeful it will happen some day #because all i want in this world is to feel secure #and for others to feel secure around me #and for everyone to feel secure around people they love #because it’s so painful and scary when you don’t #but one day im going to be warm and happy in someone’s arms and will barely remember this at all #im manifesting it #im completely okay btw things just got a little rough #and in the incredibly stressful and dramatic times i was experiencing my brain STILL had to be gay #im gay and i like sleeping #also yeah i said i wouldnt post after midnight again like two days ago but whatever #im sad and want to yearn on the internet we can make an exception tonight

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bg3-npc · 7 months

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AND ANOTHER THING

Favoritism for Astarion aside, I think no one sees the tragedy in Wyll because he never really strays from "being good". We're never really given a moment where his actions had costs larger than himself. If he'd refused Mizora's pact, he'd obviously have the guilt of any lives lost on his shoulders. He accepted it though. If you're unshakable in your goodness there's no way you can be unhappy, clearly you're content with all your choices. WHICH IS THE POINT OF WYLL! HE DOESN'T REGRET HIS CHOICES BUT HE ISN'T HAPPY EITHER!

Astarion's whole thing is how fucking hard it is to be good, how easy it is to be a bad person. That's where Wyll comes into play! He showcases how often doing the right thing comes at a personal cost! That's the actual struggle with Wyll. In his efforts for justice he's losing himself. People aren't infinite resources, yet Wyll gives and sacrifices and takes the hits like he'll never run dry.

*rattling the bars of my cage* Don't you see it? The parallel themes of identity loss, the balance one most walk between altruism and selfishness, when does doing good at the detriment of yourself become detrimental to others as well, how can someone justify their selfishness, their sacrifices, when does someone need to tell you to stop giving, to stop taking? Hello? Do you hear me?? Is anyone there??? Look at it, LOOK AT ALL OF IT *starts gnawing at the bars*

edit: *BUSTS THROUGH THE BARS OF MY CAGE* ASTARION'S FIRST MAJOR SACRIFICE INVOLVES LOSING THE SUN. HE CHOOSES TO DO THE RIGHT THING AND LITERALLY LOSES THE LIGHT. WYLL SAYS YOU CAN ALWAYS LOOK TO ME WHEN YOU'RE IN SEARCH OF LIGHT. THE MARTYR HELPS THE SELFISH AND THE SELFISH KEEPS THE MARTYR FROM DESTROYING HIMSELF. *self-implodes*

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #wyll ravengard #astarion #wyllstarion #<- this doesn't have to be a ship post but the dynamic involves all of this #bg3 wyll #please I can't be the only one going crazy #mine #edited this to hyperlink my post about fandom tag metrics #cause someone said in the tags part of this is racism #and I just wanted to acknowledge that I'm aware that

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mobius-m-mobius · 6 months

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Lokius in Loki 2x03 - "1893"

#mobius #loki #lokius #mcuedit #lokiedit #marveledit #loki spoilers #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #god they really said we're gonna be glued to the hip and MEANT IT hello 😳👀#something's definitely coming bc i've never won for this long in my life but i'll take every second they want to give us 😅#btw kind of obsessed with them both having the same haters and ravonna being the og??#you're either on board or they're the most insufferable duo you ever met wreck your plans that's my man lol #one particular coloring (clearly) almost killed me dead but i did it for you tandem bike scene of all time 😭😭#loki s2 spoilers #marvel #owenwilsonedit #dianagifs

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faeriekit · 29 days

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The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to!#this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol.#faer fic

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