#The others I can dedicate myself to past lives

[aroace-number-eight]

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[ranoshfamily]

🚨Emergency🚨

Help Rana’s family toleave Gaza before it too late

Hello humanities 🤗🤗

Please read this as if I'm a member of your family . maybe your sister, daughter or a friend and as if my family who's under death now is yours.

"I am a computer Engineer and Mom for 3 children from Gaza , Rana Hassan Alabsi, with a strong ambition and perseverance. Over the past 10 years, I've worked tirelessly, I've dedicated myself to my family, working hard, planning, building my career. Despite facing challenges, I became a well-known professional engineer in Gaza.

 

Unfortunately, my life has been upside down since Oct ,Since that particular day, thousands of innocent lives have been lost in Gaza, many of innocent people lost their works and the only source of income like me.

Me and my childrens 1 of them, he is10 years old with downsyndrom and need a safer place and health care to still a live, left our home under the continuous bombardment and artillery strikes, on foot, without carrying with us our personal supplies, clothes, or Even our money, heading from Gaza to Deir al-Balah. There in Deir al-Balah we lived the most difficult days of our lives in a shelter with scarce resources, sleeping on the ground.

Without covers, without drinking a healthy water, then we moved to Khan Yunis after the intensification of the strikes and bombing, Then we moved to Rafah in the hope that we would find safety there or find a way out of Gaza to a safe place that we dream of for the future of our children,Let us live a happy, safe life for us and our children, and keep them away from all this pain, destruction, and siege, and spare them from the miserable future that will await them if the situation continues as it is in Gaza.

I come to you with a heavy heart and an urgent call for help. My family are currently caught in the war in Gaza, facing the harsh reality of an escalating crisis. The situation is dire, and I am reaching out for your support to facilitate their safe passage to Egypt. In this moment of desperation, I share the situation where it has taken a toll on their well-being.

This urgent plea is not only for their safety but also for the health of my son, who is facing serious conditions that demand immediate attention.

My family is trapped in an environment where access to necessary medical care is severely limited. The escalating crisis compounds the urgency, especially considering my son's health conditions. Time is of the essence, and we are in a race against it to get him the vital medication and care he desperately needs.

My loved childrens are in a situation beyond their control. The fear in their eyes and the desperation in their hearts are indescribable. I implore you to be a beacon of hope for them, to be the force that guides them to safety. To be honest, the journey to safety comes with a significant financial burden.

We need the money to cover practical costs of transportation, documentation, a place to stay and shelter in and other essentials required for a safe crossing to Egypt. And so that they can take care of other needs once they cross safely. As of late April the evacuation fee ranges between $8,000 and $10,000 per person, before processing and transport fees, and we will pay the higher end of the range since Hayde doesn't have passport. Me and my family asking for 50,000$ based on the following breakdown: an evacuation fee at the Egyptian border of $8,000 - $10,000 per person , $4500 - $5000 per children as each day there is a different price for evacuation fee at the Egyptian border, plus a processing fee of $2,000 per person, $2,000 for transportation, and a 2.9% commission fee.

Any amount raised beyond the total will be used to supplement me & my family lives as refugees in Egypt. Your donation, no matter how small, will make an impact. You will be contributing to getting my family to safety. The funds will be used transparently and every dollar will go towards securing our evacuation.

Please share this campaign widely to help us reach our goal and bring my family to safety. Your support means more than you can imagine and I am incredibly grateful for any assistance you can provide during this challenging time. Thank you for your compassion and generosity. Together, we can make change and help my family find the safety and security they need".

instagram account : @help_my2024

My sweaty home before 7th oct

After 7th Oct

Vetted by:

Thank you very much 🌸🌸

@importantt-reblogs , see the Vetted Link

[heilos]

Living Harmony AU relevant character sheets/info: Harmony aka the "Tree of Harmony" Shadow Lock Somnambula Starswirl the Bearded Stygian might be my favorite of the Pillars of Equestria and it's always made me sad that he wasn't used more in the show. So I decided to team up with my new friend Orin who's taken the time to make a bunch of amazing Pillar redesigns (same person I made this Starswirl animation rig for as a gift) that i'll be incorporating into my future animation project. The Pillars are very important characters to Harmony's story so I wanna do them justice. Listed below is some context for these sketches provided by my friend Orin and some written bits from myself. This is a Stygian who's been separated from the Pony of Shadows for some time, but is now dealing with the consequences of dark magic. I've had so much fun throwing ideas back and forth for this AU and I can't wait to share more in the near future.

Unicorn from a small sea side village in ancient times

Dedicated scholar and battle strategist

Special talent is writing. An incredible wordsmith in his own right

Wrote a very popular autobiography about his time possessed by the Pony of Shadows called “Me and My Shadow” (his third novel)

Name means "dark and gloomy" and also relates to the river and deity "Styx" of Greek mythology

Brought the Pillars of Equestria together in a bid to save his home town from the Sirens (the Dazzlings)

Wanted to become a hero in his own right even though he tried to convince himself otherwise

Lacks the physical strength and magical prowess of his fellow Pillars. Compared to any other run of the mill unicorn, however, Stygian is actually decently above average in terms of magical ability, though he downplays himself significantly

Ousted from the group after a misunderstanding involving him taking the other pillar’s relics to make copies of them so he too could be a hero and join them as an equal. His friends thought he was out to steal their power instead

Becomes bitter and seeks revenge afterwards when discovering the Well of Shade, which leads to the Pony of Shadows claiming him as its vessel

Banished along with the pillars to “limbo” for 1000 years through a powerful spell conceived by Starswirl and planned out by the rest of the pillars

Is freed from the Pony of Shadows' influence in modern Equestria thanks to the Mane 6 and the pillars with Twilight and Starlight being the main catalyst in helping Stygian where Starswirl had failed before

While no longer claimed by the Pony of Shadows, the consequences of using such powerful dark magic as well as being possessed by a being of pure shadow left its mark on him

Has dark magic scarring visible on his body. His eyes, inner mouth, teeth and magic color are permanently altered in appearance. It gives him a rather unsettling aura, much to his displeasure

The Pony of Shadows mark is not so easily purged, even with the combined strength of the past and present Elements of Harmony. A fragment of the shadow lives on in Stygian, inextricably bound to him, but small enough that it can no longer influence him.

Has abilities superficially similar to King Sombra's, albeit on a much smaller scale, and needs extensive practice before he can comfortably wield this new strength.

Luna becomes Stygian's second mentor, after Starswirl, to help him gain control over his new abilities. Her direct experience using dark magic to become Nightmare Moon makes her an effective teacher

As Stygian exerts better control over the shadow fragment, he eventually gains the ability to "Shadow Walk" or travel between shadows. This temporary form makes him look eerily similar to the Pony of Shadows. Pretty spooky

Can tell when the Pony of Shadows is close in proximity due to the shadow fragment, like a magic tracker

Stygian is a lucid dreamer. He appreciates dreams a lot more now that he’s sleeping on a proper schedule. Once in a while he’ll meet up with Princess Luna in the dream realm when they can’t find spare time in the waking world, outside of mentoring sessions, to enjoy each other's company as friends

Stygian redesign by Orin331

[petday]

I make fandom art I make porn I make stuff that makes me miserable and I make stuff that makes me happy and I follow all the advice online but still nobody likes my art. I know it's good art and im not insecure about my talent level but no matter what I post or where I post it, nobody wants to like or interact with my art at all. I know people see it I know people are scrolling past without acknowledging what I make and it fucking sucks. I don't have friends to share stuff I make with and nobody online cares clearly. What do you do when nobody likes you or what you offer.

Good question. This response involves some of my history. I try to talk about my experiences at a comfortable distance. But please skip to the 'Solutions' part if you're bored.

My thoughts below:

It's painful. I have a lot of memories of high intensity pain due to no one engaging with me, at school and online. 'If I live in the same world as others, but it still feels like I am in a world with just myself, what is the point of trying to make things? Sure, I will feel better about myself as I grow, but I've still got no one to grow with, so I am just talking to myself. Amusing myself is fine, but I want to reach a level of fun above amusement, a level that others seem to reach so naturally.' 

In fact, maybe you are less 'outward' with your emotions, but as a child and teenager and young adult, there was a lot of screaming and crying and thrashing about 'not being granted the ability to make things others will seriously engage with me about.' 

(The pain remained after making a few friends during teenage years. The pain's attitude shifted slightly to accommodate this new life change of gaining friends. Much later, even after I became an artist with a large visible number of 'followers/people interested in something you make', the pain shifted its shape around this life change again. "People make bad assumptions of me because I have a big visible number in my profile and most websites do not give me the ability to hide that number." Summary: If your pain/frustration still remains after you gain a friend or find people who engage you, don't beat yourself up. Emotions don't work in such a way that the outcomes you desire are only guaranteed to make you happy and no other emotions will rise.)

Although I loved to look at art on websites since I was a child, one may assume I enjoyed the community aspect. I did, but only as a spectator for the vast majority of the time, since age restrictions and the harsh attitudes that exist to 'prevent the weak from touching the strong' was present in many of the sites I visited. Similar to how children get frustrated when another child cannot keep up with their play, but the child that is 'left out' can still enjoy watching other kids play from afar. It makes perfect sense to me these feelings will always exist in the world no matter what 'social media' websites people invent.

Anyway, two solution attempts in succession I tried over long-term:

1. My first attempt at a solution was immersing myself in a fantasy world I created in my mind and I held my imagination in high esteem. "I know my imagination takes influence from the things I read and admire, so it's not such a lonely world anyway." Creating episode lists of imaginary cartoon episodes and such, so dedicated to something I hardly told anyone about. It felt good. But my friends had original characters too, and they could describe their personalities and dynamics to others naturally and quickly, likely due to their earlier experiences with 'communicating ideas to others.' I was quiet and envious. Although it was fun to play with the imaginary characters in my head, I decided to take another step. Of course I could not simply go back in time to gain the similar social experiences my friends had. But I could use that desire to 'go back in time' to 'go forward in time' and gain the experience.

2. Engage in others first. Because I spent a long time in my imagination, I felt more secure about myself, so I wanted to extend the feeling of 'caring about my own work' to 'caring about others' work on an equal level.' The internet allows you to assess people before engaging to see if your compatibility might be okay. If someone had posts that resonated with me, I tried to say 'hello, I like what you posted/I like your drawing because [...]' Even if the contact ended there, it was a good practice. Gently communicate with people over time. Especially since I am sure there are people who rarely receive questions about their artworks who would love someone to engage with them as well. Of course do not do this in a 'pity' sense – you have to genuinely find something that 'touches your heart' and if the artist seems to not get much curiosity in regards to their art, you can go ahead and try to express your curiosity to them. Keep posting whatever you like, but if you engage with others, you may find someone engaging with you without even expecting it, and that is fun.

(I think society should practice finding genuine value in things they like even if they see nobody has touched it. Not pity, but removing the "does anyone else like this? If I see no one else liking this, it must be a bad thing to like, so I won't engage" attitude. Some of my favourite artwork has maybe 5 visible 'bookmarks/favorites' on an art-focused website.)

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🎀📖STUDYING TIPS FROM STRAIGHT-A STUDENT📖🎀

(1) Passionate about Learning

If we look at Hermione or Rory , they had a burning passion for learning. They were full of curiosity. They didn't just study for good grades , they studied because they were passionate to learn. They read alot of books. Ngl Reading is therapeutic . Hermione always went into detail , she read alot of books about the topics she was studying. There is a reason behind her being a " know it all " .

(2) Rely on Understanding , not rote learning

I was one of those who would study at last moment and rely on rote learning, I would still get good grades . But gradually I realized , studying at last moment is wrong and it makes education unworthy. After the exam , I would forget everything. Sometimes rote learning won't help too. Rely on understanding the concepts. Ofc there will be some topics that are just meant for memorization. When you come back from school , you should revise everything. It will makes things much easier for you.

(3) Be Disciplined and Dedicated

The best form of self love is discipline. Don't procrastinate. Procrastination is the cost of life you could have lived. Be mindful and prioritize your tasks. Start taking responsibility. You owe yourself to be disciplined and dedicated.

(4) Prioritize Education

Education is the most powerful weapon. Being educated and Intelligent is HOT ! HARD WORK WILL NEVER BETRAY YOU. Books are your best friends. When I had my exams or when I was in 10th grade, we had board exams . I studied really hard. It was lockdown but exams were still offline ( lol ). I cut off toxic people or anything which drained me or made me feel bad. I prioritized myself and my education. I used social media for 30 minutes only and I would watch content which made me feel motivated or good about myself. I unfollowed everything which made me feel bad. Did I regret it ? NO ! I GOT 98%. I strongly believe in manifestation too ( that's why this account exists ) so I affirmed for good grades too.

(5)Less Social Media or N🚫 Social media at all.

Alot of my classmates who are also exceptional at studying . Some of them joined Social media very late and some of them still don't use Social media. I joined Social media in Grade 9 but these days I try to use it as less as possible. This can be different for everyone. Maybe you use Social media in a healthy way and get good grades. For me , Social media can be draining sometimes so I use it less whenever I need to focus on myself. I was thinking to deactivate my account or take a break 😅. Most of the posts you see are scheduled btw, including this one .

(6)Find your WHY

Why are you studying ? What is your reason ? Is it because you want to make your parents proud ? Is it because you love learning ? Is it because you want to prove others wrong ? It is very important to have a reason for studying. Maybe connect your goals to studying. Let's say you want to become a dentist , now you can't become a dentist without studying ,right ?

(7) Find a Role Model

If you can't find your WHY yet , it's okay. Try to find a role model. It can be any real life person or a fictional character. It can be ANYONE ! My role models are Hermione and Elle Woods. You can put your role model Keychain on your pouch , stick their posters etc so whenever you look at it , you gain motivation to give your best. Again , it's okay if you can't find a role model . Become your own role model If you can't find any role model 😉

(8) Don't let Past intervene

It's okay if you weren't a good student from start . According to manifestation, you can revise being one too ! You can still change yourself and become a good student . You can prove all those people wrong by becoming a good student. Once a wise man said , don't let your past blackmail your present to ruin a beautiful future.

(9) Believe in Yourself & Be confident

Harry potter once said " Working hard is important but there's something which matters even more ; Believing in yourself " . Even if you aren't a potterhead , you should listen to Harry Potter. Another example can be Elle Woods , she believed in herself when no one did. She showed us the power of self belief. Be confident in yourself.

(10) Be attentive and Regular

You must be attentive in class. Participate in class and don't hesitate . I can understand if you can't participate in class because you feel shy ( I used to be like that ) but the more you push yourself to participate, the less you will hesitate. Gradually , you will feel confident too. Like Thewizardliz said , sometimes you need to get uncomfortable to get comfortable. Be a good listener.Also , be regular in your classes. If you aren't able to be regular, study at home. Some of my friends weren't able to be regular in school because of personal reasons but they studied at home . They didn't waste their time in unproductive stuff. Sometimes I was also not able to be regular at school but I studied at home and took breaks in between.

(11) Study From Youtube

I don't know if it's just me but youtube teachers can make the most complicated topics so simple. They explain everything in detail. Youtube teachers can be more helpful than school teachers tbh 😀. Self Study is important.

(12) Take care of Your Mental health.

It can be very hard to study with bad mental health. I tend to take care of my mental health. Stress can be the biggest distraction sometimes. So take care of your physical and mental health. Journal. Meditate. Take a break from social media if you need to. Use affirmations.Dance. Exercise. Read.Paint . Sleep. Whatever makes you feel better. Poor mental health can also interfere with your attention span so please take care of your mental health. Don't take it for granted 😃.

Short and simple tips

- Value your time. Time is money

- Self study is very beneficial

- Be organized

- Avoid Drama

- I WANT TO LET YOU ALL KNOW HOW IMPORTANT YOUR TODAY IS , YOUR NOW IS .STUDY HARD . WORK HARD.PLAY HARDER. DON'T BE BOUND BY RULES. DON'T HURT ANYBODY AND NEVER EVER LIVE SOMEONE ELSE'S DREAM. REMEMBER HOW MANY TIMES YOU GO WRONG, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU FAIL , DESPAIR, FEEL LIKE THIS WORLD IS AGAINST YOU . IN THE WORDS OF BOB MARLEY , AT THE END EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE ALRIGHT . - SHAH RUKH KHAN aka SRK👑

🎀📖These are some tips which helped me and I live by these tips. I hope these tips help you too. I apologize if the post wasn't helpful🎀📖

[copperbadge]

In the ongoing discussion of aphantasia (see "an aphantasia fantasia" tag for more) an article popped up recently which has some details to share, including a history of how aphantasia was discovered in the scientific sense. I don't have "spatial thoughts" the way the author does, but it's also a pretty good discussion of how people who don't form mental images (or can't access sound, smell, etc in their minds) still interact normally with the world.

Here's some fucked up shit I didn't expect, however:

In a 2015 paper, a group of researchers [...] identified a new syndrome they called “Severely Deficient Autobiographical Memory,” or SDAM for short. People with SDAM lack the ability to relive past experiences in their minds. While this condition is rare among the general population, a preliminary survey hints at a link with aphantasia, with as many as 51 percent of a sample of 2,000 SDAM individuals also having aphantasia. My own experience is similar. Past episodes of my life—when I can recall them at all—feel distant and non-sensory. [...] I would describe my recollections as summaries of key facts rather than first-person “mind movies.” When asked, out of the blue, about an experience I’ve surely had—say, any childhood birthday party—my mind first responds by drawing a blank. It feels as if my episodic memories were filed into a “mental cabinet” without an index. Many memories are in there, somewhere, but retrieving them is a daunting task unless I’m provided with very specific prompts. With some groping work of deduction (where did I live at the time? Who did I hang out with?) I can gather enough hints to bring out some locations and non-visual facts: I had a big party in our countryside garden when I was 11 or 12; there was cake; a lot of kids running around and … that’s about it.

This is one hundred percent how I access memory and how I assumed everyone did -- I am well aware I don't remember chunks of my past (or only remember them if prompted by something) but I do the same thing he does. I ask myself where I was living, or what other things were happening at the time, or I snag on a rare memory of a piece of clothing or a feeling, and I extrapolate from there. I don't relive memories in the way that the article implies regular people do, and while I will recognize say, the smell of a specific library, a deeply ingrained scent for me, I don't remember the smell if I'm not standing there smelling it. And this explains my dedication to making an annual photobook documenting the past year, each December -- the photobooks are powerful memory triggers and have more than once reminded me where I was or what year it was when I did XYZ thing.

Also, turns out that one of the key methods for emotional regulation in most people is calling up a happy memory to counteract sad ones, which is why depression is so pervasive, because depressed people have literal biological impairments to remembering or reliving positive memories.

And SDAM, associated with aphantasia, is an impairment to reliving any memory at all, so...

Big ol' neurological yikes, guys.

[starlight-archer]

@netflix

Greetings,

I am writing to you with hope in my heart, to implore you, from the bottom of my heart and with the utmost sincerity, to please reconsider your decision to cancel your critically acclaimed new show Dead Boy Detectives.

This show has touched a lot of people's hearts and souls, my own included. It has generated countless rave reviews, massive online buzz and an amazingly active and dedicated fan base that continues to grow.

This series has done something truly incredible and meaningful, and I think you have something remarkably special with Dead Boy Detectives. I have so many reasons why this show is worthy of your investment, faith, and more than worthy of a second season. In this letter, I will attempt to narrow it down and list a few of them.

Firstly, a fantastic foundation has already been laid down from the start with it's incredibly compelling and well-rounded characters. Each of them feels very nuanced, natural and whole in a way that succeeds in making them all widely relatable despite their distinct individuality and complex differences.

There is a rare kind of beauty to the way that these characters have all been written and then brought to life by the cast in such a genuine and heartfelt manner.

Secondly, the natural and loving way in which POC, women and queer people are represented is second to none.

You have an amazing example of a strong and powerful female lead in Crystal. She is layered and does her best to be better than she was in the past. She is realistically flawed and so resilient that it is impossible not to root for her. She is smart and empathetic, and puts in effort to understand her friends, even when they butt heads.

The fact that her powers can never truly be taken away and that she can always connect to them through herself and through the support and live of her female ancestors is a thoroughly wonderful detail that leaves you with a deep sense of hopefulness.

Niko, who is far from home and starts off all alone after losing her father, finds kinship and courage through the support of her friendships with Crystal, Edwin and Charles,and shows her unwavering strength through her continual acts of natural kindness. She is sharp and observant, and she utilises that yo be amazingly caring.

Charles' story is also incredibly relatable and meaningful. The way that he overcomes his painful history with his parents through kindness, and does this again and again, despite still dealing with so much trauma and hurt is astounding. I, and many others long to see his story at continue.

Now, Edwin and his relationship with his queer identity...

The way in which the queer representation has been handled in Dead Boy Detectives is leagues above the vast majority of other shows that share its target audience. It feels so authentic. Something which is unfortunately hard to come by, which this show pulls off spectacularly.

Edwin's personal journey with his sexuality is done with so much care and raw honesty that it is impossible not to appreciate everyone in the writers room who was responsible. George Rextrew's portrayal of Edwin in this aspect (and frankly all other aspects) was simply phenomenal. The way that he discovers more of himself through his relationships with his peers is done so incredibly well. Charles, Crystal, Niko, Monty and The Cat King all play a significant role on his self-discovery - be it directly or through showing their support - in a way that I am sure many of the queer viewers long for and relate to.

There are so, so many people who feel seen because of Dead Boy Detectives, myself among them, and that is something that is immensely and inherently valuable.

Furthermore, the realistically nuanced way in which the show depicts the characters dealing with different kinds of grief and trauma is unbelievably refreshing. To show each unique situation and natural, emotional and internal responses in a way so grounded in reality is a true achievement. One that every member of the cast and crew should be celebrated for. As someone who has experienced tremendous loss, I can confidently say that the way these things are depicted in the show is highly accurate and resonant.

Aside from these aspects, I am of the firm belief that timing and lack of appropriate promotion harmed the number of streams in its initial days of release. It was put out right before/during exam time from American viewers, meaning that all of the teens who might have been binge-watching, were stuck cramming for tests. Additionally, while I do think that focusing so much fantastic promotion and marketing on Tumblr was a stroke of genius, not matching that across other platforms such as X (formerly Twitter), Instagram, and TikTok was a gross oversight that significantly limited reach and harmed viewership.

All of this on consideration, please, please reconsider the cancellation. Dead Boy Detectives has so much potential and deserves a real chance to grow and succeed.

There are thousands of people who share my sentiments of devastation and disappointment, but also hope and massive amounts of love.

It is well evidenced that sharing this show has created a wonderful communuty and brought droves of people together. Drives which I am sure that you have seen sharing their sorrow, frustration, and their dedication across social media.

Saving Dead Boy Detectives is worthwhile and just makes sense at this point, especially given it's role as an extended part of your well-established hit IP The Sandman, and the current proximity to Halloween, when a show about ghosts will be so seasonally and culturally relevant.

I am begging you, alongside thousands of others to bring Dead Boy Detectives back for a Season 2. Please hear our voices and restore our faith in you as a platform.

It is not too late.

#SaveDeadBoyDetectives

Sincerely, one of countless dedicated fans.

"It's not what you did, it's what you do that matters." - Edwin Payne (to Crystal, The Case of The Devil House)

[chamomiletealeaf]

Sweet as Pie

Chapter 4

The willow tree was the biggest Simon had ever seen. It's long branches and leaves swayed in the light breeze and he found himself staring at it, admiring it in its grandeur.

"Pretty, i'n it?" You ask him, standing with him in front of the tree.

Not as pretty as you He thought.

"Gorgeous." Simon said, but he meant it more towards you than the tree.

"C'mon, come sit." You urged him along, as you moved the willow's leaves out the way, and you disappeared behind them.

He followed you and sat in the shade of the tree, wrapped and hidden away by the Weeping Willow, facing the lake. It was truly such a calming and beautiful sight. But yet again, Simon just couldn't focus on anything other than you and how your hair reminded him of the branches of the tree, just falling so gracefully and perfectly.

"I sit here a lot when I need somewhere quiet away from the house." You tell him with a smile as you stare at the lake, the both of you sitting against the tree's trunk.

"Y'know, I think there's some kind of magic in this tree." You continue. "No matter what could be goin' on, the world could be endin' and yet this tree will stay it's same, quiet self. And anything hidden behind it's leaves is immune to anything outside of them. It's like... A force field. A safety net. Everything, all the noise and bad things, just get left outside when you walk behind this wall of leaves."

"Feels that way." Simon responded. "You seem to know this place really well. You been here a while?" He asks.

"Been here all my life. House was my auntie's. One day she told me: 'y/n? When I'm dead an' gone this place gon' be yours. Keep it alive for me.' That's why I keep so many plants in it. To keep the life in that house my auntie always had. Treat em' like my babies." You confessed.

"I can see that." Simon joked, referring to not too long ago when he saw you dancing and taking care of them.

You laughed, and surprisingly, so did he.

"So what about you?" You asked, shifting the conversation.

"What is a handsome man like you doin' all the way out here alone?" You teased as you nudged his shoulder, a boldness taking over you.

Handsome? She thinks I'm handsome? Simon thought, and that damned blush he hated made it's way back onto his face for the umpteenth time.

"Military." He answered. "My best friend in my Task Force nearly died by a shot to the temple. I never thought my life meant anything which is why I dedicated it to the military but when I almost lost him, it was a wake up call. I realized I had something to live for, and I knew I shouldn't take life for granted so I wanted to try and do something for myself."

You looked at him with sympathy, listening to him intently.

"So, I bought that house to at least get a breath of air before I take my last. To experience something good for once."

Simon was shocked with how much he let slip out, but for some reason, he felt like he could trust you with his life.

"I'm sorry about your friend. I'm glad he's ok." You comfort him. "That must've been real scary. But I'm glad you're doin' something good for yourself. You deserve it. I'm sure he's happy for you too." You punctuated your sentence with a smile, and Simon smiled back.

You both sat there under the willow tree getting to know each other until the sun was just beginning to set.

"Simon?" You ask him.

"Hm." He answers.

"Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?" You ask softly and hopefully, and Simon's brain short circuits. Were you... actually interested in a man like him? Or maybe you were just being friendly.

"I'd love that." He says.

You smile at him again as you begin to stand up.

"Well, hope you like Shepherd's pie, sugar, cuz' i've been dyin' to bust out the ol' recipe for it." You brush off your cardigan and wrap it around yourself.

Simon stands up and brushed himself off, flattered that you want to cook for him. You were too sweet to him, and he wondered what he ever did in his life or past one to deserve the company of you.

"That sounds lovely." He smiles down at you and the both of you make your way back to your house.

As you two enter your little yellow house, Simon admires how nice it is. He looks at all your well-loved plants and the little trinkets adorning your shelves. He looks at your patterned furniture in the living room and notices a really old looking white wooden rocking chair with the paint peeling off of it in the corner. In it sat a dark green wool knit blanket. It looked so warm and comfortable, and he wondered how it felt compared to his old black and navy blue bedding.

"Well, here it is. This is home." You say proudly, closing the front door behind you two.

"It's lovely." He says, still looking at the blanket and rocking chair.

You notice him staring at it and take note of his curiosity.

"That's aunties old rocking chair. Been in the family for years. She used to sit in it and knit me all kinds of clothes. Now I sit in it and knit too. Made that there blanket myself." You tell him, gesturing to it.

"You made that?" He asks in shock. It was a huge blanket, and it looked so well made. Of course you made something so perfect like that. What couldn't you do?

"Yeah" You beam up at him. "Here." You say, and go to grab it from the rocking chair. You bring it back to him and wrap it around his shoulders.

"There you go hun'. It's yours." You say and wink at him.

He goes to take the blanket off his shoulders in protest.

"Oh no I, I can't take this you must have spent so much time on it."

"Oh please that's nothin', I saw the few boxes you brought into that house of yours, you ain't never gonna find yourself a nice blanket like this one. Trust me." You joke to reassure him as you grab his wrists to stop his movements and you wrap the blanket back around his shoulders.

Did she just, grab my wrists? Simon thought, the action taking him off guard and he felt heat run through his body that wasn't from the blanket.

Fuck stop stop stop don't blush He told to himself, or more to the blood rushing to his face.

"It's your color anyway." You say, taking a step back to look how the dark color brought out the brown of his eyes. Were his eyes always such a pretty, rich, honey color?

"Come on an' sit at the table while I get this started." You tell him, and he secretly liked how assertive you were. You wanted to take care of him, which is something Simon never experienced before. It made his heart melt.

He watched you cook for him and how you hushed him when he offered to help, and he felt a smile creep it's way onto his face. There was something so... intimate about what you were doing for him.

"You sure you don't want me to help?" He asked again.

"Oh hush now with all that, you just sit there and look pretty while I fix this up for you. Excited for you to try it. Haven't made this in forever." You tell him with a smile.

His heart jumped once again at your coddling, calling him pretty this time. God he was gonna have to make a list of all the sweet things you called him to remember them all for the nights he's feeling lonely. Or maybe, you would be there to tell him directly.

You placed a plate of shepherd's pie down in front of Simon and one for you across from him. You then set out two glasses and went to the fridge to take out a pitcher of iced tea. With a mischievous smile, you poured some into both glasses and sat down. Little did Simon know, he was gonna taste the sweetest, most tooth rotting iced tea he's ever gonna have.

"Thank you y/n." Simon said, then took a sip of the iced tea. You brought your own glass to your lips and took a sip as well.

Then Simon placed his glass down with a coughing fit and you let out a cackle.

"Bloody hell what did you put in that?" Simon asked between coughs and you were losing it.

"That right there, is some authentic southern sweet tea baby." You laughed.

"Christ if a bullet doesn't kill me that sure will." He laughed, his coughing subsiding.

"Well do you like it at least?" You ask.

Simon took another sip, preparing himself this time, then nodded after a second.

"Yeah... I could get used to it." He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

"Go on an' eat now, look like you haven't had a thing all day." You said, as you picked up your fork to try your freshly prepared meal.

Simon did the same, and when he took a bite of the Shepherd's pie, he swears he'd never tasted anything better in his life.

"Holy shit." He says with his mouth full.

You look up at him from your plate with wide eyes, hoping he likes it.

"This is the best damn thing I've ever had." He said, taking bite after bite.

You giggle, glad he enjoys it so much.

"Really? Ok good, I was nervous. Haven't made it in a while." You confess with the biggest smile on your face, watching the big man in front of you eat like he hasn't in weeks.

By the time you finish your plate, Simon has already finished two and downed his sweet tea.

"I haven't had a meal like that since before the military." Simon says, leaning back in his char satisfied, wrapping the blanket back around his shoulders.

You finish off the rest of your sweet tea then place the glass down to answer him.

"What? Really?" You ask in shock and horror, wondering why this mountain of a man hasn't been eating the way he's supposed to.

"Oh baby we gotta change that." You say with a laugh.

There it is again. Simon thinks. Baby.

He doesn't know how to react, all the affection he's receiving from you, someone he just met, was more than any affection he's had his entire life.

"Here, lemme help you clean up." Simon offers, standing up and grabbing his plate.

But you stand up too and reach for the plate in his hands.

"Uh-uh, I got it, you're a guest tonight." You say, hands going to take his plate.

Simon pulls it back so you can't grab it.

"No no please, you've done so much for me already. I got it." He says, and you stand there for a second, considering.

"Ok." You say, giving in to his warm, brown puppy eyes he's giving you.

"Just place it right there in the sink." You tell him.

After you two clean up, Simon realizes how late it got. Time with you seemed to fly.

"Well, I better get home now." He says sadly, not wanting to let the night end, but he doesn't want to keep you up taking care of him. "Thank you so much again, y/n." He says, smiling down at you in the kitchen.

"You're welcome, Simon." You say, now smiling up at him.

You two stay there for a few seconds, just smiling at each other, enjoying each other's presence and proximity.

"Here, lemme walk you out." You say, breaking the moment first.

You both walk to the front door together, him trailing behind you and taking note of how cute the sway of your hips is as you walk. You open the door for him and you both look at each other again.

"Goodnight, y/n, I had a good time." Simon says.

"You're welcome, me too." You reply. Then you notice he doesn't have the blanket you gave him. Your eyes widen and you gasp, making Simon's eyebrow rise in concern.

"Oh my god, wait, your blanket!" You say and hurry off to the kitchen where the blanket was draped over the kitchen table's chair and bring it back to him.

"Here you are honey." You say, as you reach up on your toes to place it around his shoulders.

Simon grips the ends of the blanket and tugs it the rest of the way around his shoulders.

"Don't want you to forget that." You smile up at him. "You're gonna sleep real well with that, trust me." You say.

"I'm sure I will. Thank you." He says, smiling back.

"Goodnight Simon." You tell him softly, smile never leaving your face.

"Goodnight y/n." He reciprocates in the same soft tone.

He turns to walk out the door and onto the porch, then looks back at you before turning around to make his way back to his house.

You lean in the doorway, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch him walk away, feeling warm despite the night's brisk air, then you return back into your house when he reaches his own, smiling to yourself for the rest of the night.

Simon makes his way to his room, but not before looking at your house through his kitchen window one last time, watching the lights turn off inside them.

He enters his room and sits on his bed, wrapping the blanket still on his shoulders tighter around himself. He lays down, bringing it up to his nose to take in the scent of your house, trying to etch it into his brain forever.

He gets lost in how warm the blanket is and how it smells so much like you that his eyelids get too heavy before he can change into his night clothes. The thought and smell of you overwhelms his senses in the best way and he finds himself falling asleep to their comfort.

And as he slept, not a single nightmare creeped it's way into his mind. How could they? His mind was already occupied with dreams of you.

taglist: @pussypinkbarbie @thatonepupkai @confuseddipshit

[half-oz-eddie]

I do not want to do discourse but I am quite tired so feel free to scroll past this or ignore it idc

First and foremost I do not care if other positivity projects exist. They can exist in unique ways for unique reasons. It's a beautiful thing. I'm sure people love what they do and they're doing it for fun. Personally? I love what I do. A normal amount. And I do it my own way. Kinley Café is my heartbeat and it's always been a project that I deeply enjoy and that I am passionate about. I ask for nothing in return except the chance to touch other people's lives and make them smile by sending out your orders.

I am so comforted by the amount of love and support I receive. It's motivating and has helped me through difficult times. I have been so distracted spreading joy that I've basically breezed through what is usually the most difficult month of my life.

And yet. And yet!! I have been reported as spam so the café does not come up in searches (it's limited/partially shadowbanned I guess you can say. I constantly worry that this affects people getting notified when they receive treats because I want them to know someone is thinking of them. But I have been communicating with Tumblr about it, so don't worry too much). I have received phishing links in DMs and on the order form. And more recently, a password protected blog that hasn't had any activity in 40 days receives nearly a dozen notifications out of the blue because of a months old post circulating as some sort of gotcha, and I find out someone is telling people that I copied an idea (from myself btw) and sent out anons trying to encourage people to call me out over...stealing my own idea?

And I don't wanna hear "they didn't know it was me" because nobody asked me shit! I didn't show anybody any disrespect. In fact, I was being supportive! I showed love! I took the time out to make something because I wanted to continue to encourage the spread the positivity.

And yet, people made accusations even though I was being kind? Do you want a trampoline since you like fucking jumping to conclusions?

KC has been open for FIVE weeks. And I've dealt with all this in a short period of time for absolutely no reason. I've been nothing but kind and supportive of others. I genuinely and sincerely try my best.

I don't wanna let this taint something beautiful or let anything discourage me from doing this again. But I swear to god.....this shit is getting really annoying and bringing out the worst in me. lmao why am I fighting for my life during this little hiatus? I'm dedicating my free time to creating things, and collaborating with others just to spread love and kindness. I don't want anything but peace and quiet.

What's next? Do I have to keep dealing with dumbassery? Or can I go back to sending out treats and going on about my fucking business? Because I do not have time for this. I do not want all this static!!!

I've turned off reblogs. If you want to talk to me privately that's fine but this has been a little overwhelming and I just wanted to get this off my chest.

[randombush3]

never stop loving on me

STAY AWAY BLURB

i just couldn't get the thought out of my head

[...]

“Jaimie?” 

The ceiling of my hotel room is boring, as most ceilings in most hotel rooms are. Its blank paint detaches the place from the guests that lie beneath it, convincing us to make our time here temporary because no hotel should become home… even if I feel like this one is. 

Leah speaks again and I remember why that comfort has settled on top of me. “Jaimie.” Her voice is softer than the jubilation it was drenched in an hour ago – full of pride because of my latest victory. “I lost you for a second there,” she chuckles. I shift from my position on my back, grabbing my phone so that she can see my face again, unsure whether I want to expose myself to her but unable to resist.

I’ve won another tournament, added another trophy to the cabinet we’ve been building during my rare visits home. It will gleam with the others, and I’ve no doubt that Leah will polish it when it is delivered, just as I wipe dust cloths over her medals before I inevitably have to leave again. The room we’ve dedicated to housing her accolades has become a competition of who loves the other more; which one of us is prouder. 

“Are you home?” I ask her, ignoring the blue eyes that narrow at the sight of the tears rolling down my cheeks. Her nod is confused, stilted, making it clear that she thinks we should be addressing whatever has upset me. 

“Just back from training, babe. Like I’ve been for the past hour we’ve been on the phone.” Her laugh is tense. “Did you lie when you told me the champagne was non-alcoholic?” 

I wipe my face with the back of my hand, the one that isn’t holding my phone. “I think I’m done with tennis.” 

I hold my breath. 

It’s a sentence I would have never imagined saying before I met Leah. Sure, I missed Fleur and stability, but I could live without it. I could deal with watching my sister build her own life that included me from a distance. 

It’s harder with Leah, because, with Leah, I can never really keep myself away. 

“Forever?” Her front teeth sink into her bottom lip in thought. “You’ve just won your sixth tournament of the year.” And it means almost nothing to me. 

“I just… I just want to come home.”

[jade-green-butterfly]

Today...is a very special and important day for me, folks~💝😊Three years ago, a certain special troll became the highlight of my 2020 during rough times and immediately won my heart from the moment I knew he would have his own destiny and journey to find others like him...and his family. Since the first Trolls movie, I have always admired dearly him from afar and the moment I saw him during the Trolls World Tour trailer, my heart literally poured out him and I have truly loved him for just being his wonderful, lovable self ever since~💘🥹 And that certain special troll, is none other than...Cooper~💗🌈✨

I have always been a big fan of him and he’s always been my favourite troll to begin with but every time I see him and hear him, my heart always beats so much for him, making it aflutter and words cannot describe how special he is to me...how he means the whole world to me~💞🌈💗🌈💞I mean...can you blame me? >//w//`< How could I resist and say no to such an adorable face to go with such a darling like him??💖😍💖😍💖 Cooper is more than just the goofball that we all know and love...he’s my goofball and so much more...~🥹The most amazing troll with such talent, a unique voice and a dazzling yet loving royal family to go with him...~🌟Cooper is also the prince of my heart, who deserves all the love and happiness in the world...and I feel so blessed to be the one to give it all to him, along with my heart~🥰💝💝🥰 April 24th 2020 was the day I drew Cooper for the very first time, and when I started shipping myself with him. And together, him and I have remained strong and inseparable ever since!🫶🏻😌💕We’ve had such happy memories together - becoming part of his world and family, sharing one another’s lives and music, even officially marrying and creating our own dear little life together~✨💜💗💚✨And I wish to keep on loving Cooper forevermore~💓😊

Which is why I dedicate this very special piece above (with a textless version too) to us, inspired by one of my favourite scenes in TWT - where King Quincy and Queen Essence were happily together with their twin eggs (before our dear Cooper was cruelly snatched away from them😭) and I wished to capture that tender moment between Cooper and I, with our darling Toby's egg nestled warmly within my hair~🥰 EEEEEEE~!!😍🤩😍I am so, sooooo happy and truly over the moon of how all of this turned out~!💖🥹💖Just how I imagined it, especially Cooper snuggling against me with his neck wrapped around me as we lovingly embrace one another, feeling like the proud parents we are~💜💗💚😚I am also chuffed with the cherry blossoms I drew to make the bed cover look more prettier~🌸 I would like to deeply and gratefully thank many wonderful peeps out there for helping bring my beloved OTP to life, such as my lovely @x-elyssa-x, KaitlinEXE, @gloryraiin, @jaguardorado16, @vampireflowerarts, @zoey-nillesen, @king-trollex-fangirl, @glitchy-witchy1994, @blooeyedtroll, @kittyball23, @angoraram, @yeenstrollart, @asa-de-ouro, @whiteflame-selfship and many more, for all the beautiful commissions, gift art and loving support you have given me over the past four years, and for putting all your fantastic work and effort, and heart and soul into every single one which I absolutely love to this very day~💞🌟💙💜💛💚🌟💞 I can’t thank you all and the rest of the Trolls Fandom enough for how amazing and welcoming you’ve all been to me when I first jumped onto the bandwagon, and I am so happy I did too!💖🤗Thank-you all so much for everything, including all the dear friends I’ve made and all the loving supporters I have gained - bless you all and don’t stop being awesome~!✌🏻🤩✨💕 And finally, thank-you ever so much for everything, Cooper...my cupcake king and sweet jellybean~🩷♛🧁🫂For always being there for me, making me feel such love and happiness I never could imagine~💝🥰🌈I am truly blessed and the luckiest lass alive to such a wonderful darling like you in my life and by my side~💗😇🪽U///w///U

🎊💜♓💗♎💚🎉~Happy 4th Anniversary, Cooper...my beloved prince, my one & only...~ I love you so much with all my heart, more than life itself...and I will keep on loving you so, forevermore and beyond~🎉💜♓💗♎💚🎊

*~Reblogs are also deeply appreciated as well, so please do reblog as well as like! Thank-you kindly!~*

Cooper (c) DreamWorks Trolls/DreamWorks Animation

Trollsona Jussy/Justina Butterfly & Toby/Toby's Egg (c) @jade-green-butterfly​ (Me~!)

[actualmermaid]

It's been three months since I made this post about Saints Sergius and Bacchus, John Boswell, classical Western homoeroticism, and Christian homophobia.

Since then I have read both of Boswell's books on the history of gay/queer people in premodern Christianity (Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality and Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe), familiarized myself more fully with the spectrum of charges against Boswell and his scholarship, and realized that he's been the subject of ideologically-motivated smear campaigns by just about every political/religious/academic faction you can imagine. My conclusion: Professor Boswell is a saint, martyr, and important queer elder who does not get the respect that he deserves, and I'm in awe of the sheer volume of the massive genius brain that was somehow crammed into his little blond head.

ANYWAY. This is an official followup to my original post, now that I've read Boswell's work.

I take back my hunch that Boswell's work was not intersectional. He was, in fact, a pioneer in the field of medieval social history, and utilized a wide range of critical lenses in his work. He was inhibited by the lack of documented evidence about some groups (for example, he was frequently criticized for not writing more about lesbians, but he was open about the difficulties of researching lesbians in history and explained what he was doing as a scholar and as a teacher to mitigate this) but he constantly called attention to issues of class, gender, and other social factors wherever they were relevant.

I was RIGHT in noticing that the slight difference in rank between Sergius and Bacchus seems to be an erastes/eromenos indicator! Boswell spoke at greater length and with greater sensitivity about erastes/eromenos dynamics in history, so if you want a deeper look into that, you should read his books.

I was also probably right in noticing that the legend of Sergius and Bacchus is seeded with various forms of Byzantine propaganda! I really wish that I could talk to him about it. :(

Both secular queer theorists and religious queer theologians seem to be most uncomfortable with the fact that Boswell was reporting on historical facts and observable social forces, not idealized concepts of queer people as somehow being more ethical or spiritual than the straight majority. He included evidence of things like abuse, prostitution, and exploitation not because he thought they were cool, but because they were part of the material reality of queer people's existence in the past, just like they were part of the material reality of his own 70s-80s gay subculture.

That was his bottom line: gay/queer people are a normal human variation, and as a historian, he could provide hard proof of their existence and what their lives might have been like. If his work seems "shallow" or "dated" to some more modern queer researchers, it's only because so many people were willing to dismiss his scholarship, reject his work, and abandon his research leads after he died. But, he was actually super smart and his scholarship was actually meticulous, so even his most dedicated critics have been unable to "debunk" him. Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality most recently had a 35th-anniversary reprinting, and he is still being cited as an authority by more recent scholars.

Even though the full strength of the Church and the Academy were leveled against him, his work has proven its own worth. He still deserves to be read and discussed by both professional scholars and enthusiastic hobbyists. And, the Open and Affirming movement in Christianity wouldn't be as strong as it is without his confirmation that "gays and lesbians are normal," as he put it, and not simply a construct of modern society.

Rest in power, Professor Boswell. We won't forget you.

Since I made that post, I have also opened a sticker shop with a bunch of queer Christian saint icons, including Boswell and some of the queer saints he discovered/wrote about. They're pretty cool. You should buy one.

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮𝘂: 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗹𝘆𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆? ♥

:feat~ diluc, childe, kaeya, zhongli x gn!reader:

(warnings~ obsessive behavior, cult au!)

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside

DILUC is just about as dedicated as they come.

And while his schedule is tightly packed, he spends every free minute he has by your side… Just listening to your voice energizes him more than any amount of rest will! No matter what has happened in the hours prior, everything, all worries, just seem to wash away when he faces your holy presence!

You are a pure, perfect being in his eyes.

Every breath, every step you take, should be heralded as a gift.

The only thing stopping him from abandoning all of his duties and staying with you for every waking second is… well, you, who insists that he has to do his work too. And if he disobeyed that order, you’d be upset at him, and he certainly can’t have the creator like that! If you glared at him… told him that you despised him… well, Diluc might as well just die.

Because he lived for you, and if you found him useless, then that was just what he was. He was what you determined he was.

And that fact almost reassured him.

“Diluc… you have to make sure not to overwork yourself.” His head is in your lap, eyes blissfully closed as you comb your fingers through his fluffy red hair.

“Right now, I feel better than I ever have, my savior.” ♥

Blissfully loyal CHILDE.

Who trails after you all day, every day, wanting to help you in any way he can! It was your voice that spoke to him, comforted him in his darkest times, it was you, the miracle who saved his existence. He doesn’t even want to imagine what’d he be like if you weren’t there for him… Most likely still, cold… with noone to bury his sorry corpse.

So now, he has to repay you, no matter what. He can’t just take your kindness for granted!!

After all, without you, he wouldn’t even be here. So, he’s dedicated himself to you, his life, his love, to do something, anything to benefit you.

It doesn’t matter if the other fatui members and cultists think ill of him - because they don’t matter. All that matters is you, you who is always on his mind.

“Childe?”

“Yes, my majesty?”

“I don’t know what’d I do without you.”

His eyes widen, just by a fraction, and his steady breathing hitches.

Has his heart stopped? Was this the afterlife? How come he couldn’t hear anything anymore?

“...I…” He can barely utter a word, and it’s less than a whisper.

“Is it so selfish that I want you all to myself?” ♥

Overprotective KAEYA, who can’t stand it when other cultists try to take his place.

And why should he stay silent? He has to make sure his position by your side will never change, otherwise, you might tired of him!

His flirtatious side hides his more desperate one - desperate for your attention. Your affection - your shy touches. He wants you, all of you.

But he can’t be so selfish and hasty. After all, the Savior has blessed millions and earned countless devout followers, and he’s just one of many.

Still, a small part of him has hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, he’s special to you.

He could be that greedy, at least, right?

The greed that fuels his racing, aching, heart whenever he’s by your side, listening to your beautiful voice with a love-sick smile.

“Kaeya, don’t you ever get tired of following me around? You should have some time for yourself… am I being a bother…?” You sheepishly glance at the blue-haired man whose walking next to you, shoulder brushing against yours. 

“Never, for as long as I live, will that ever happen.” ♥

Unwavering ZHONGLI, who will follow you to the grave and beyond if you will it.

For you, he’d do anything.

And that’s no understatement.

Ever since the death of his past lover, he had grieved, conspired against the heavens, let hatred run amok in his heart. He had directed his sorrows toward you, set his sharp gaze to you, and sought to seek revenge. Sought to seek answers. 

Why had she died?

What had she done wrong?

Why did you have to take her away from me?

But all of his troubles seemed to dissolve when you descended. It was as soon as he saw you in person, eyes glittering with unspeakable knowledge and the air of absolute fragility - as if one misspoken word could fracture you, forever.

And since that day, he had sworn to repent. Sworn to be by your side until the end of time.

“Zhongli, why do you always act so indebted to me? You’re free to act more comfortably, if you like.” You glanced at his form as he poured you a cup of tea. The man only smiled in return, before staring up at you with his seemingly golden eyes.

“You are my savior, and you deserve to be treated as such.” ♥

(a/n) inspiration is back along with a bailu theme yippeeeee yeah so im not sick anymore hehehasfadgdg

[sundrop-writes]

When Doves Cry

Jason Todd x Gar Logan

How can you just leave me standing - alone in a world that’s so cold?  So cold.  Why do we scream at each other?  This is what it sounds like: When Doves Cry.

This fic is dedicated to a husband who has never given up on me. 

Love is infinite, patient, and always welcomes you home.

Summary:

At Dick's insistence, Jason comes back to Wayne Manor to help the Titans end Crane's deadly plan. Jason doesn't want redemption or forgiveness - he's done believing that he's worthy of those. Once Crane is back at Arkham where he belongs, Jason plans to disappear, never to be heard from again.

But Gar - someone who never stopped loving Jason and never stopped believing in his goodness - has other plans.

Jason Todd x Gar Logan. Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 13.

Word Count: 11,100

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is a character x character fic - no reader character here; this is M/M; emotional angst - Jason's self deprecating inner monologue; Jason being emotionally constipated; mentions of Jason's past trauma - including being kidnapped by Deathstroke, and his canon suicide attempt; canon level violence (mentions of guns/gun violence, mentions of killing/mentions of Jason killing people); mentions of Jason's death and resurrection; mentions of Gar mourning Jason's death; mentions of Gar's canon trauma - being forced to murder people while under Cadmus' mind control, having brain surgery performed on him to achieve that mind control; implications of Dick/Hank/Dawn being in a poly relationship because I literally cannot help myself; mentions of Jason being injured from the confrontation that goes down at Wayne Manor in 3x13 (which is canon) - the injuries are vaguely described as 'bumps and bruises'; mentions of Jason's substance abuse - including the Anti-Fear Gas (which yes, even though it's fictional, is still substance abuse), alcohol, and implications toward other unnamed drugs; there is mentions of Jason/Rose - but in this version of things, their interactions were one single kiss and Jason never had any true feelings for her; because of his attraction to Rose - Jason is very much bisexual in this, and though it's not mentioned that Gar has been with a woman (or anyone aside from Jason lmao) - I always headcanon him as bi and write him as bi just so you know; mentions of Gar and Jason having a previous sexual relationship during their time living together at Titans Tower (but that relationship was purely sexual and not romantic); implications that The Pit changed Jason's body somewhat, including making his dick bigger; smut - M/M smut; biting/marking kink (from Gar toward Jason) - at one point, Gar bites down hard enough to draw blood; wet ?? humping/grinding; mentions of Jason and Gar masturbating; passing mention of sex toys (a dildo); anal sex with lots of (real!!!) lube; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom (but there is no mention of STDs and technically they are monogamous even if they didn't discuss it, but irl you should always use one!! don't be like them); Jason bottoming while Gar tops; scent kink - Gar and Jason both really like the way that the other person smells; Jason is a power bottom at first and then becomes more submissive; Gar is very possessive/animalistic during sex; some dirty talk; emotional/passionate sex; creampie kink - Gar cums inside of Jason and they both really like it; a warning for literally licking wounds - Gar licks a cut on Jason's forehead that he has from the fight (this IS NOT blood kink - it's about him caring for Jason because his animal instincts are telling him licking the wound will make it better/soothe it) (btw I am not shaming those with a blood kink, I have written blood kink before and I love it - I just wanted to clarify the tone of the moment); this fic does have a happy ending if that makes you more motivated to read it. I believe that is actually, finally it.

A/N: In case it's not already clearly labelled - there is no reader character in this fic! It is very different from what I usually write, but I felt very inspired and the request that @nctzenkane gave me was just too good not to write. Jason and Gar have so much chemistry in the show, they are such an obvious ship, and they never even got to say goodbye to each other. (The writers make it so convenient that Gar is just not in the room during Jason's pivotal moments - sigh.) Anyway - I love JayGar as a ship and I feel like this fic sums up everything I love about them, as well as giving them the ending they should have gotten. They should have ended up together and Jason should have gotten forgiveness from the Titans family. I hope you guys enjoy this fic even though it's not like my typical stuff, and if you sit this one out - please know that this one did wonders for my creative flow as a writer, and I will be back with more amazing things later. Also, I know that this fic is gonna make my Top Ten Favourite Fics of the year when I make that list for 2024. I was not at all expecting to write this fic but I absolutely love it so much omg. Also - even though I started my taglist a little while ago, I decided not to use the taglist for this particular fic because it's so different from my usual stuff. But the taglist will be used for all upcoming fics.

...

“I have to believe that this dude we fought alongside - my friend - he’s not all bad.” 

Gar purposefully put emphasis on those two words, trying his hardest to remind Dick of what Jason was to them. At least, what he should be. A friend. Even if Dick wanted to deny it, Jason had been a Titan once. He had been part of their family. Even if Gar was the only one who still remembered that; even if he was the only one who still remembered Jason’s good side. Even if Gar was the only one who had ever truly loved him - the others needed to remember what being a part of that family meant, and what their obligations were to Jason because of it. 

No matter what Dick claimed, Jason hadn’t turned into some evil villain overnight. He had his own reasons for what he was doing, and that meant he could be reasoned with. (Gar knew that it was difficult to reason with Jason - but he knew it could be done.) 

Dick’s silence was deafening. Maybe he didn’t want to tell his tender-hearted friend what he really thought of Jason now; those tiny streaks of things that he had been secretly thinking for a long time. Or perhaps - Gar was really getting through to him. 

Jason needed to come home. Despite what everyone else believed: he could be saved. 

… 

All of it was Dick’s idea. Gar still wasn’t even entirely clear on half of it, but the bulk of it involved using his newly acquired - still very undeveloped - ability of turning into a bat so that he could fly up to Jason’s unlocked bedroom window and breach the house’s security system undetected. 

No matter how much Gar stressed the fact that he can’t fly, Dick kept telling that it would be okay - that he just had to believe in himself, blah blah. The typical leader speech jargon that he used to convince people to do dangerous things. Gar felt like he shouldn’t have been so easily convinced, but he knew that a lot was on the line - he knew that Crane needed to be stopped. So he put aside sense and transformed, and flew off toward the window even though he barely knew how to control himself in this state. 

He was so damn dizzy when he landed. He could taste vomit swelling up inside his mouth and he forcefully pushed it back down. The world was spinning around him in an utterly cruel way and he could barely comprehend anything - he was naked and he needed clothes, so grabbing Jason’s shirt off the floor was nothing but pure instinct. The smell of Jason’s stupid strong cologne - so entrenched in the bedroom’s walls, mixed with the natural musk of sweat in the bedsheets - it should have made Gar even more dizzy and nauseous, but instead, it grounded him. It made him feel safe. 

Dig, if you will, the picture of you and I engaged in a kiss. The sweat of your body covers me.  Can you, my darling - can you picture this?

It was one of the only things that gave him a true, firm center while the world was spinning so damn hard, still undulating under his hands and knees while he dug his fingers into the expensive carpet, gritting his teeth with how much he absolutely hated the sensation. 

Gar and Jason have always been the same size. 

It was something they found out days into living together at Titans Tower, when Jason got out of bed and put on one of Gar’s favorite hoodies without a word. He never apologized for getting milk chocolate on it and letting it stain. From that point on, their wardrobe easily blended into one. Jason wore ‘nerd shirts’ with logos that he had no clue about the meaning behind, and Gar found himself wearing more black and more band tees with logos for bands that he couldn’t stand the loud, angry music of. 

After Dick had confessed everything that had happened with Jericho, Jason pulled away on the screeching tires of his motorcycle, and ended up taking some of Gar’s clothes with him. This left Gar with the pain of accidentally pulling something out of his drawer that still smelled like Jason - sleeping in sheets that definitely still reeked of that strong cologne. In fact, Gar had been wearing one of Jason’s black hoodies on the night that Cadmus had stormed the Tower - on the night his life had forever changed. 

In the present, when Gar left Jason’s room dressed head to toe in Jason’s clothes, it felt natural. It felt natural to be surrounded by that scent. It gave a certain kind of unconscious comfort to his overwhelmed instincts during such a chaotic time. It wasn’t even something he had put that much thought into. Instead, he was far more focused on using the remote Dick had instructed him to grab in order to disarm the alarm system - a task he was incredibly worried about getting right. 

With Dick in his ear giving him instructions to defuse the alarm, even with the terrible itch of anxiety creeping down his neck - he felt a certain sense of safety from being wrapped in Jason’s clothes. Even when the sound of gunfire came from down the hall - something that nearly paralyzed him with fear, part of him still foolishly felt bulletproof because of that familiar shirt on his back. 

When he rounded the corner, the first thing that truly made him freeze up during all of this was actually seeing Jason for the first time in so long. 

It was a true shock to his system. 

After all the talk of Jason - a death that he barely had time to mourn, so heavy in his heart and barely processed by his mind. After finding out that the person behind Red Hood’s mask had once been his best friend, somehow stolen from the morgue and woken up from what should have been a permanent sleep due to the treacherous waters of the Lazarus Pit. After spending all that time talking Dick’s ear off, trying to convince him to let Jason come home, where he truly belonged; after feeling so damn fruitless in doing so. After tracking down Molly, trying to stand united with one of Jason’s last true friends in an effort not to see him hurt. 

After all of that, everything Gar had been through over the past few weeks, actually seeing Jason in front of him - it was like having ice water poured down his back. 

He froze up standing there, and he knew that the expression on his face must have been that of dumbstruck delirium. 

He hadn’t expected their reunion to be anything like this. 

When Jason had first stormed out of Titans Tower, Gar had imagined that he would come back. Even after he had screamed at the top of his lungs, telling Dick to fuck off, and followed that up by screaming at Rose not to touch him when she had tried to grab his arm in some poor attempt at ‘comfort’, daring anybody else not to follow him - Gar had thought that it would be only a matter of hours before Jason came back. 

At the time, he had texted Jason after everyone else scrambled out like cockroaches fleeing from the light, and he had told Jason that it was safe to come back because they would be alone together (save for Conner’s unconscious body). He had expected that statement alone would cause Jason to eagerly come running back. 

He thought that it would be a predictable reunion. 

Jason would come back puffy-eyed and stinking of booze, stumbling, furiously denying that he had even been upset, saying that he would never let Dick Grayson get under his skin. Slurring his words while also denying that he had been drinking and driving his bike - because he didn’t want Gar to ‘narc’ on him about it. 

Gar would put him in the shower and douse him in cold water to sober him up while trying not to scold him about the potential of crashing the stupid speeding death machine due to being drunk. They would go to bed together and Jason would fall asleep holding onto him for dear life. And he would still make Jason the best hangover breakfast that vegan soy substitutes can offer (and Jason would complain about Gar not cooking with ‘real’ bacon, but he would still clean his plate). And Jason would sneak a kiss over the sudsy dish water that would turn into soapy grab-ass, and he would have wanted to fuck Gar across the kitchen counter just because nobody else was around to complain about it. 

(Maybe that last part was just a fantasy Gar cooked up with his hand on his cock in his bed at the Tower when he was missing Jason a bit too much. But still, it felt like something Jason would do.) 

When the days passed and Jason still hadn’t responded to him - still hadn’t come home, Gar tried to deny that he missed the mouthy asshole. He tried to weed those shirts out of his laundry so that he could stop being constantly reminded of Jason. He tried to keep his crying limited to the shower, or muffled into his pillow at night. 

And then, he didn’t have to worry as much about that stuff, because he got distracted and busy when Conner woke up. Introducing the clone to the world, teaching him to be a Titan. 

When he got his brain scrambled, between the taste of blood in his mouth and the distant sound of a done drill - memories of Jason flickered in front of him, and when he was present enough in reality, he knew that Jason running far away was a good thing. It meant that Gar couldn’t hurt someone like him. Someone he loved who didn’t have any meta powers to defend himself - someone who was only flesh and bone with no way to defend against a six hundred pound uncontrollable tiger pouncing on him. 

There were moments of mental clarity, tiny little moments when Mercy wasn’t humming in his ear. Moment when he prayed that he would never see Jason again - because he never wanted the blood in his mouth to belong to Jason. 

After Rachel helped him gain back control, he still wondered if he was capable of hurting Jason, even by mistake. He was almost glad when Jason rode away from Donna’s funeral in the opposite direction. (Almost.) Because that feeling of missing him came back harder than ever days after the funeral, when the dust had settled. When he realized that he was fully in control of his powers - working well as a Titan, and the only thing missing from the picture in his mind was having Robin right there by his side, working as the perfect duo Jason always knew they could be. 

When Gar found out about Jason’s death, he felt numb. It had never felt real. Sure, denial is the first stage of grief - but Gar never truly felt like he was living on the same earth where Jason was not. He felt like the world should have stopped. Or at the very least - he should have gone down with Jason. 

He kept imagining that someone would wake him up from the nightmare - that someone would shake him and he would wake up in his bed months earlier, with Conner still in a coma, only to find out that everything that had happened at Cadmus had been one big horrible dream. He would open his eyes to find out that Jason was still alive, waiting to sneak out and get veggie burgers with him at three in the morning. 

But no. There was a grave in the backyard of Wayne Manor with his name on it - even if Gar had seen it empty after Dick had dug it up in a manic state. Just to make himself feel like he wasn’t totally crazy, Gar had searched through Bruce’s files and found Jason’s morgue paperwork, wanting to fully confirm that Jason had even died in the first place. After seeing the attached photos of Jason’s bashed-in skull caused him to lose his lunch, he knew then that it was very much real. It wasn’t just a horrific dream. 

Jason had died and somehow been brought back from that. 

Even then, Gar imagined their reunion to be very different from this. 

But here he was - standing in one of the many hallways of Wayne Manor, staring Jason down like a deer in headlights, his heart pounding while his wide eyes fixated on the person he thought that he would never get to see again. Someone covered in bumps and bruises from a fight, looking much more worn down by the world than the guy who used to laugh at Gar’s shitty puns. 

Dream, if you can, a courtyard- An ocean of violets in bloom. Animals strike curious poses. They feel the heat - the heat between me and you.

Jason’s eyes flickered down and locked on Gar’s chest, or rather - fixated on his shirt. Jason’s shirt that Gar was wearing. In a moment, he felt more naked than he ever did when he stripped down in public to transform. He felt so fucking caught. Of course Jason knew that Gar was wearing his clothes. Gar could have claimed that it was out of pure convenience, but somehow, as if he was part animal himself - Jason’s pupils dilated and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. It was almost like he could smell the fatal yearning coming off Gar, everything about him that said: ‘I love you, I missed you, I need you’. 

“Jason-” Gar croaked out. 

There was no chance for conversation. 

A streak of movement behind Jason’s heavily armored shoulder realigned Gar’s priorities in a snap. 

“Look out!” He shouted, pointing sharply behind Jason before he ducked for cover himself. 

Jason didn’t hesitate - he fired his gun, taking the enemy out. He did a visual check of the hallway to make sure that nobody else was coming before he turned back to Gar - who was crouching tightly against one of the divots in the complex design of the old house. 

“I’m here for you.” Jason said - finding that he felt far too naked in his own way with how utterly vulnerable this sounded. 

Especially when Gar’s lips quivered, almost as if desperate to cry out for him, to thank him for coming home - something. 

“I’m here to help. Dick sent me.” He quickly amended, attempting to clarify that this was all business. 

Even though, with Gar’s large, glassy eyes staring him down - he couldn’t be sure that’s what it was. 

He didn’t have too much time to grind through the details of it, though. They had to get through the business aspects of it or there wouldn’t be any personal details left to untangle because they would all be dead. 

They split off, following a plan that Dick had carefully laid out, and Gar was proud when Tim and Dick led Crane out of the Batcave in shackles. 

With the relief of knowing that they had won, Gar quickly set about finding Jason once again - to thank him, to ask him what their next move was, to kiss him - he wasn’t quite sure yet. But he felt gleeful. 

All that glee was slashed when he caught Jason in his old bedroom, packing a bag. 

He had stripped out of his Red Hood armor from the waist-up, and Gar was met with the shocking sight of bright purple welts smothered across the broad of his back. It made Gar’s natural urge toward sympathy ache, especially when it came to Jason. But that feeling conflicted with nothing but boiling anger at the sight of him furiously stuffing things into a duffle bag he had placed into the middle of his bed - clearly trying to rescue everything he could from his old life on the way out. 

How can you just leave me standing alone in a world that’s so cold? So cold.

He was running away. Again. 

“Going somewhere?” Gar asked, trying to sound tough when his voice was trembling at the very thought of Jason leaving him again. 

If he was less mature, he would have dropped to the floor and thrown a catastrophic toddler fit, flailing his limbs and screaming at the top of his lungs. He would have demanded that Jason stay, telling him that he simply wasn’t allowed to leave. 

He knew that it was selfish, but it just made Gar feel so disposable. The fact that Jason came into his life, made him laugh, made him smile, fucked him like they were in love, made him care - and then he wanted to run away like Gar meant nothing to him. He knew that Jason had his own issues - a list of problems and past traumas longer than his arm, but Gar would have run away with him. Jason didn’t have to be sentenced to solitude. 

All these thoughts caused a sheen of tears to form in Gar’s eyes - the sadness battling with the anger inside his chest. He was threatening to spill those tears by the time Jason whipped around - partially startled, partially angry that his plans to disappear again had been disrupted. 

Jason mirrored back his own wet eyes at seeing Gar so upset, but quickly blinked the tears away. 

“I was never here.” He quietly croaked. “I can’t-” 

“You can’t ‘what’?” Gar barked back, cutting him off. 

This was the most cruel way that he had ever spoken to Jason, but he was fed up, to say the least. All of the emotions that he had been politely festering with now boiled over. The grief, the mourning, the loneliness - all of it spilled over at once. 

“You can’t stay?” He asked, raising his voice in anger. “You can’t admit that someone actually cares about you for you for once in your fucking life?” 

Maybe I’m just too demanding. Maybe I’m just like my father - too bold.

Jason’s face quivered at this. 

He knew Gar cared about him. Of course he did. But that was why he had to run. He couldn’t let Gar risk his place with the Titans for a murderous piece of shit like himself. He threatened to break into sobs and he forced himself to become steel. Without Crane’s drugs running through his system, he felt even more weak and chaotic - but he couldn’t let Gar be the drop of water that broke his dam after all these weeks. 

“I can’t stay.” He said solemnly, his eyes glued to the floor, refusing to look at Gar. “I - I can’t… stay.” It hung in the air for the moment as the words truly sunk in for him. He had been so busy packing in order to flee that he hadn’t even fully realized why. Now it was even more painful. “They won’t let me.” 

The realization pierced through Gar’s heart like a knife. 

This wasn’t just about him. Of course it wasn’t. 

The thing that he had been fighting for, fighting against all this time - the idea that Jason wasn’t even worthy to come home because he was some crazed killer. Gar wasn’t the only one who got a vote. Gar wasn’t the only one to claim love for him or deny him. 

If Gar’s love for him was the only thing that mattered, then the whole thing could have been smoothed over weeks ago. Maybe Jason wouldn’t have left in the first place. Maybe Jason wouldn’t have been balanced on the edge of a roof about to jump off while Gar had been sleeping. 

Gar wheezed out a harsh breath - almost as if the pain of the realization had literally pierced his lung, and he was having difficulty breathing because of it. 

“Stay.” Gar begged, hardly realizing that he was crying openly now. “I’ll talk to Dick, I’ll-” 

Maybe you’re just like my mother: She’s never satisfied.

“I can’t.” Jason said bitterly, entirely defiant. “You know I can’t. Not after everything that’s happened. Especially not after Hank.” 

There was a careful kind of mourning in Jason’s voice when he said the name - and potently, he flipped back around then, unable to face Gar after bringing it up. He continued to pack his bag as Gar stared at his back, his throat tightening harshly around everything that he had to say in reply. 

Gar loved Hank as a friend - as a mentor, someone to look up to. But even now, he couldn’t fully blame Jason for Hank’s death. He knew that it was all a part of Crane’s plan. He knew that Jason was sorry. Before, that fact was something he had based solely on his knowledge of Jason - but now he could base it on Jason’s very clear guilt towards the situation. 

Gar knew that if he told Dick that he forgave Jason for Hank’s death - it would put them on bad terms. Dick had known Hank for longer. And there had been something more there (something more between Dawn, and Hank, and Dick). Something that made that scar extra tender for Dick. 

Gar had to find a better way to explain it. Perhaps tell the team that he had once been a pawn himself - he had been to Mercy Graves what Jason was to Crane. And he knew that if she put him alone in a room with Hank and told him to kill, he couldn’t have been sure that his sterling morals and his willpower alone would have held up against everything that she did to him. 

Why was the situation with Jason any different? 

Why were they so determined not to forgive him? 

Out of the corner of his eye, something broke up his contemplative thinking - Jason slipped a tee shirt over his head, and Gar couldn’t ignore the glaring shade of green that said it was one of his. It caused a possessive streak to roll through him - he had a difficult time holding back a feral growl as it flared up in his throat. 

It made him only able to focus on one thing. 

“What about before?” Gar croaked out, disappointment apparent in his voice. 

Jason looked over his shoulder with gentle confusion, and he felt the need to clarify. 

“What about everything that happened before Hank?” Gar rephrased the question. “Doesn’t that matter?” 

Why do we scream at each other?

Jason wanted to say - yes, of course it does. 

But it felt so much more complicated than that. 

“Gar-” He barely choked the name out before he was cut off. 

Gar couldn’t stand to hear more excuses - more reasons as to why Jason was going to cut and run. He reached a hand up to Jason’s neck and pulled him into a kiss before anything else could come spilling from his mouth. 

It felt like trying to desperately claw his way into the front door of a home he once knew - a house that was now cold and abandoned as Jason stood stalk still, purposefully not kissing him back. Jason wasn’t letting him in - not giving him a single sign that there was any love left there. That there had even been love here in the first place. 

Deep down, Jason was terrified. If he gave in and kissed Gar back - he would be done for. He would be opening himself up to a world of hurt that he once thought he could erase with doses of Anti-Fear Gas. 

Gar was used to playfulness; teeth nibbling on his lips, laughter in the air. He was used to a hand reaching for the tie on the front of his sweatpants while that cocky voice muttered lustful ‘threats’ against his mouth - something about how he was ‘going to get it’ - when in actuality, Jason was always the one who ended up a moaning mess on his cock. 

Tears spilled hotly from the corners of his eyes and a sobbed choked out from the back of his throat when Jason was completely still against him. He was being so coldly denied - Jason was like stone, fighting off everything he had missed most from Gar because he still felt like he had to run, and this was nothing more than a distraction from that. 

“Please.” Gar wept against his mouth. 

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but - Jason didn’t move. 

This is what it sounds like: When Doves Cry.

Gar pulled back harshly then. When his wet eyes fell to the Triforce printed in the middle of Jason’s chest, further signaling that it wasn’t his shirt (because he likely had no clue what the symbol meant or what it even was) - Gar felt a wave of rage overtake him. He gripped the hem of the green shirt and didn’t hesitate to yank it up over Jason’s head. Rather than the typical heat that this action would lead to, there was nothing but bitter tension in the air as Gar waved the ball-up fabric in front of Jason’s face. 

“This is mine.” He choked out, barely holding back a wave of sobs. “So - so if you’re leaving, you can’t take it with you. You can’t be that much of an asshole. You can’t just take everything that belongs to me.” 

Gar choked on his own words, holding back more. 

They both knew that the words held a dangerous double meaning. If he was going to run, he would be taking so much that belonged to Gar - so much more than some fabric that they had once blissfully shared. 

He would be ripping Gar’s heart out of his chest and taking it with him. 

Jason looked at him with tears now leaking from his eyes. Oceanic blue swimming in bloodshot red - not a pretty sight, by any means. He took in a heavy breath, but his stomach was visibly trembling where he was holding in his own sobs. 

He wanted Gar to tell him to stay. He didn’t want Gar to be okay with him leaving - he wanted it to be such a fight that he couldn’t just walk away. 

Touch if you will, my stomach.  Feel how it trembles inside.  You’ve got the butterflies all tied up.  Don’t make me chase you - even doves have pride. 

Gar - still feeling the need to comfort Jason, even stewing in all his anger toward this man he called lover, enemy, or friend - dropped the shirt on the floor and reached out, smoothing his hands over Jason’s hips. He leaned in and laid the most feather-light butterfly kisses across Jason’s shoulder, and Jason choked on another sob. 

Gar smoothed a hand over Jason’s stomach, and under the intense heat of Gar’s large palm - his muscles calmed. Any cries of anguish died off inside of him and he was able to gather enough breath to speak as Gar laid a gentle cheek on his shoulder. 

“You - you can’t do this.” Jason whispered, the weakest protest he could have come up with. 

Gar only hummed in response. This close to Jason, he could almost feel that thing inside Jason, yearning for him, crying out to him. 

He knew that Jason didn’t want to leave. He knew that if he was patient, Jason would crumble to the need as much as he was. 

He already felt as though he had won. 

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” Jason added on, his words slightly steadier now. He curled his fingers into the fabric of the shirt Gar was wearing - the one he had picked up off of Jason’s bedroom floor when he had landed. “This is mine.” 

Gar wanted to make some sarcastic jest about how he wasn’t planning on leaving while wearing it - but he became choked up at how the words sounded. As though Jason was truly claiming him - something he had been waiting to hear for so damn long. 

He lifted his head to ask if it was true - if Jason would stay for him or if they could flee together - but Jason caught the back of his neck and slammed their lips together, stealing any words that Gar was planning to speak. 

There was a certain fierceness that followed next - a battle of stubborn wills that was as stiff and tense as their words. 

Passion and love and anger are spears all lined up on the same fence, all equally sharpened - Gar was still angry with Jason for leaving in the first place and never coming back. He still blamed Jason for all those months of bitter loneliness that he had felt, for being left there in the Tower with no help when Cadmus had attacked. Deep in the back of his mind, there was a fantasy of the night they attacked - of Beast Boy and Robin operating as the perfect team to snub out evil. 

Jason was still mad at Gar for not chasing him, for not asking him to come home. Mad at him for not making more of an effort, for siding with Dick on seemingly everything. 

He had no clue how hard Gar had fought to bring him home. How much Gar’s voice had burrowed into the ears of the others, especially Dick, being the only remaining one to speak up, vouching for Jason’s good side. If he had been a fly on the wall, perhaps he would have bowed at Gar’s feet, thanking him. 

But instead - these lopsided views created a bitter stubbornness. Something that made the kiss feral and angry - gnashing teeth and hot, hard breaths as they grabbed and groped at each other, battling with their own anger and swelling up with that love they tried so hard to deny. 

Why bother staying so angry with someone if you didn’t care about them? Why take that much time and effort to be pissed off if you wouldn’t just forgive the person out of love at the end of the day? 

Jason ripped off Gar’s shirt - the borrowed shirt that only further reminded him of everything he had missed out on, the home he couldn’t come back to. He threw it to the floor, trying his best to forget about it - but this only made way for Gar’s hot skin underneath his own, forcing more temptation as they made more skin-on-skin contact. 

He let out a kind of wounded sound when Gar gripped the back of his head and swept down, his mouth tracing along Jason’s neck, digging his teeth in. He was still unsure if he was trying to claim Jason in that animalistic way and make it impossible for him to leave or if he was just taking that anger out on him, trying to cause a little bit of pain - trying to make Jason feel a fraction of what he had felt. Either way, his teeth were savage and frantic on Jason’s skin, and Jason’s nerves screamed pleasurably with the full effects of it. 

“Fuck,” Jason moaned out as Gar sunk his teeth in harder. “Fuck you.” 

Gar was about to make some clever reply - the typical ‘you should’ or ‘I’m trying to’. 

But he was caught off guard, silenced when Jason put a hand in the middle of his now bare chest and shoved him back toward the bed - causing him to sprawl beside the bag that Jason had been trying to steal away with. He poofed out across the luxurious, expensive mattress; there was a worrying second as he looked up at Jason when he believed that Jason might just pick up that bag and run. 

He could use this as his opportunity to flee. 

But instead, Jason eyed him up and down heavily - lustful eyes casting a thick gaze over Gar’s body. Looking over every inch of him carefully, from his now ruffled hair, down across his heaving chest, to the place where Jason’s borrowed pants were hanging low on his hips - the thickness of his hard cock very apparent between his thighs with no underwear on underneath them. 

Jason knew it was temptation. Fondness. 

At the time, perhaps he considered it ‘one last hurrah’. But in truth, it was the breaking point - the point of no return. The point at which Gar had truly hooked him in and reeled him back. Between those big, beautiful brown eyes staring up at him with a combination of intense affection and fear at the possibility of him leaving and that fat cock practically calling to him - Jason was done for. 

Jason reached for the button on his own pants, and Gar remained frozen for a moment. 

“Well,” Jason said impatiently. Gar still didn’t move, unsure what was expected of him in that moment. “Get your fuckin’ pants off. I know you’re not shy about stripping down, ya damn nudist.” 

Gar felt the tension leave his body with a stiff exhale. He wanted to make some smartass comment, but found himself lacking. Instead, he became distracted by rushing to get the pants off and watching the flexing of Jason’s muscles while he worked to get his own pants and boots off. 

All he could muster up was: 

“You - you’re an asshole,” Gar chuckled out, throwing Jason a genuine smile as he kicked the fabric off his ankles, leaving himself wonderfully bare in the middle of the bed. 

Gar’s eyes traced over Jason’s naked body - he seemed more thick and muscular than the last time Gar had seen him. Had he been training harder in the time that he’d been gone? Though his overall build was still much the same - matching Gar in stature, though Gar’s muscles were leaner and softer compared to Jason now. And if Gar wasn’t mistaken, Jason’s cock was bigger? Though that seemed more like a trick of the eye. (Though, it was still a good two or three inches smaller than Gar’s, which Jason often called ‘monstrous’ and joked that he could barely walk after taking.) 

Gar didn’t have too much time to admire Jason’s nudity before Jason was on top of him, bumping their cocks together as he climbed onto Gar’s lap. 

Gar let out a harsh growl from deep within his chest at the feeling of his sensitive dick being touched by someone else for the first time in months - for the first time since Jason had stormed away from the Tower in a fit. Since then, he’d had nothing but his own hand and distant memories of Jason fueled by the fading smell on the clothes he’d left behind. 

Even then, it’s not like he had the opportunity or even the desire to touch himself all that often - not with the chaos going on in his life. So having a warm body in his lap again - the warm body of someone he had missed so fucking much - it reignited the fire inside of him like poking holes in a gasoline tankard and lighting a match. 

“Fuck, Jay.” 

Gar reached up and tightly, possessively grabbed Jason by the ass, pulling him closer instinctively. This caused the echo of a whimper from within Jason’s throat as he bent down to take Gar’s lips again. Jason’s hands planted firmly on the hard muscle of Gar’s chest and Gar kept that needy grasp on Jason’s ass - wanting to keep Jason as close to him as possible. 

The touch quickly turned into moving Jason on top of him, grinding Jason’s body on top of his so that their cocks were gyrating together - a perfectly filthy clash of hot skin that fit together so well after they had been apart for too long. 

They moaned into each other’s mouths and Jason forced his tongue past Gar’s sweet, pink lips - as if he was still trying to put up that fight, still trying to show that he held some power over the man underneath him. Gar’s cock was leaking furiously and soon the slide of their two cocks became wet and glossy while Gar’s bright pink cockhead was continually nudged against his stomach, making a mess against his abs and staining slickness all over Jason’s eager, throbbing dick. 

“Fuck. Fuck, man.” Jason hissed, pulling away from the kiss, a new urgency pumped into him. 

Gar felt a slight streak of disappointment when Jason looked away from him - like a fictional pixie, fading away for the slightest moment without Jason’s attention. The feeling was doubled when Jason took the touch of his chest. He actually found himself whimpering like a pathetic puppy as he wondered what Jason was doing. 

It made a bit more sense when Jason frantically unzipped his would-be getaway bag - rifling through the pockets, ripping out spare underwear and - fuck, of course, more of Gar’s bright green shirts that he had stolen - until he came back with a bottle in hand. 

Lube. 

Of course. Of course that would be something Jason considered to be an essential to travel with when he was stealing away into the night, never to be seen or heard from again. 

Gar would have made some kind of joke about it, but he found his mouth dry, and he was far too horny and mesmerized, his blood pumping through him at top speed as he watched Jason. Who uncapped the bottle and squirted some onto his fingers - then his hand disappeared behind him while he tensed his thighs and hiked his body higher up onto his knees, clearly with the intent to finger himself open in preparation for Gar’s cock. 

Gar huffed out hot breath. 

It had been so damn long. 

He felt his cock pulse with fierce need and spurt out more pathetic spurts of precum, making his stomach even more shiny as it began to pool inside his belly button. He rubbed his hands lovingly over Jason’s thighs as he continued to watch with the utmost rapture, his eyes drinking in every single inch of the beautiful body in front of him - the flexing muscles, the sharpness of Jason’s hips, the thickness of his thighs, the way his perfect, modest cock bobbed between his thighs while he worked. His plump, pink bottom lip snagged between his teeth while he tried to contain his moans. Something that turned the sounds into the most beautiful little grunts that Gar had ever heard. 

After a few moments, Jason pulled his fingers from himself with a sinfully wet sound, and then he reached for the bottle of lube again. Gar was surprised though when he went straight to pouring the shockingly cool liquid across Gar’s cock. 

Typically it took them a lot more work to get Jason ready to take Gar, seeing as he was a bit longer than nine inches, impressively thick - and though he tried his hardest to be gentle - when Jason begged him and nagged him with purpose, he could sometimes get carried away. (Jason claimed that he liked the feeling of soreness afterwards, but Gar sometimes felt guilty for letting go of self control and pounding into Jason like an animal.) 

“You - you want more help?” Gar choked out. 

With Jason’s hand on his cock, spreading the wetness, he was already pushing his orgasm down past the onslaught of sensations - the lube warming under Jason’s hot touch, the purposefully loose grip that Jason had on his dick that just made him itch and made him want more. 

Jason grunted in reply. 

“I fucked myself this morning.” He said, distinctly not making eye contact with Gar. Instead, continuing to stare at his own hand as he picked up the bottle and poured more wetness around his grip on that impressive, thick cock, and then spread it around. 

He almost added on: ‘I was thinking about you when I did it.’ 

But somehow, even now - that felt too emotionally vulnerable. 

Gar quickly became swallowed up by heated thoughts of this. He became consumed by the visual image of Jason splayed out on a bed somewhere, (wherever he had been staying since he had left), fucking himself with his fingers shoved deep inside his well-lubed hole while his other hand moved frantically on his cock. Or even better, pounding a toy inside of himself like the one Gar had found snooping through his room while looking for anything he could use to help Jason against Crane. 

He would look so fucking good like that, spread open on the unforgiving thickness of the silicone, desperate whines and moans coming from his lips because it was good, but it just wasn’t right. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t perfect like having Gar’s hot body on top of him while Gar’s big cock carved out a spot deep inside his guts- 

While Gar was distracted by these thoughts, Jason took the opportunity to line up the now well-lubed dick with his prepped hole and sink down onto Gar without another word. This caught Gar off guard, stealing his breath in the best way. It was smooth and slick and he didn’t waste a second before putting his entire body weight onto Gar, letting his ass rest flush with Gar’s pelvis so that Gar’s impressive cock was fully inside of him. 

“Jay - oh, fuck.” 

Gar let out a chest-rattling moan and quickly became dizzy, and it didn’t even occur to him that Jason had skipped putting a condom on him. So, this was the first time that he was bare inside Jason, absolutely no barriers between them. He couldn’t mentally comprehend it, and all he could think was - of course it was hotter, of course it felt better - he hadn’t seen Jason for so long, he had forgotten how perfect Jason felt around him, he had forgotten that it felt this fucking good. 

“God, fuck, Gar, your dick-” Jason mumbled out, clearly lost in a haze of pleasure himself. 

Jason didn’t waste a second - with Gar too pleasure-numb, Jason simply took what he needed. He planted his hands on Gar’s chest while Gar’s hands rested dumbly on his thighs, and he began frantically bouncing up and down on Gar’s dick, impaling himself on that beautiful big cock, quickly creating a good rhythm. He watched with awe and swelling adoration as his eyes locked on the man below him. 

Gar looked so perfect like this. 

His body was a sculpture of perfection, like Adonis himself, carved from marble. Every single time Jason got him naked in bed, he wondered how the hell he had gotten so lucky. With his pink lips parted as increasingly loud moans escaped him and his brows creased with pleasure, bits of that distinct green hair stuck to his forehead from the efforts. His stomach fluttering and flexing every single time Jason slammed his hips down and took Gar back inside him fully, Gar’s body glistening with sweat, slick from their encounter so far - he was a picture of perfection, not a single flaw that Jason could pick out.

And while his hole was tingling with the pleasure of having Gar inside him again and his cock was throbbing as it danced between them, beginning to sputter out precum now - he was beginning to ache with a brand new need. 

He was chasing a sexual need, of course, but he was also growing frantic with an emotional need that he had pushed down for so many months. He had missed Gar so fucking much. So much it hurt - and he had used so much to try and forget about it - the Anti Fear gas, the intense focus on Crane’s mission, the booze, the distance. 

But now it was all right here in front of him - those moans he had missed so much, that green hair, the smell of someone so distinct that he had tried huffing off clothing like a drug that he couldn’t buy anywhere off the street. He swallowed thickly and tried his best to hold back tears, and was only reminded of this more when Gar’s fingers dug into his hips - a firm but loving grasp that only more deeply reminded him of who he was fucking. Reminded him of what he had missed out on. 

“Dammit,” Jason huffed out. “Fuck - your-your cock is so good,” 

Usually he was a motormouth during sex. He was infamous for never shutting up until his orgasm hit him like a truck. If it was spitting out ‘fuckboy’-esque promises that he never could keep because he usually wasn’t the one fucking Gar’s brains out (but rather, mindlessly taking a cock), or horny blabbering as he begged for more - his tongue was constantly sputtering out something while Gar touched him. 

So he thought that talking would be a good distraction from the horrible knot in his gut - from this thing that he was feeling. He didn’t need to deal with those stupid fucking feelings right now. He just didn’t. 

“So fuckin’ big.” Jason whined. “You feel so good inside me.” 

Gar grunted in return, taking a tighter hold on Jason’s hips and helping more now. He helped Jason slam down harder, causing a harsher collision of their skin each time - a sharp, wet slapping that sounded absolutely sinful in the room. It made Jason feel fuller somehow, and he let out a downright whorish sound, struggling to get out his next words. 

“God - I - fuck -” He whined. “Your cock - Gar - you feel so-” 

“Yeah.” Gar breathed back in reply, encouraging him. “Yeah, Jay.” 

With another hard slam of Gar’s hips up into his hole, Jason’s mouth was knocked loose. 

“Missed this dick.” He breathed out. “Missed this - missed this so much. Missed you.” 

It was a stubborn admission that even the world’s harshest torture couldn’t have pulled out of him. But the feeling of Gar’s cock deep inside of him, those fingers digging into his flesh like he owned Jason - that was enough to have his tongue loosening around his secrets and have him spilling into vulnerability like it was his fucking job. 

Jason didn’t have enough time for the sting of regret to settle over saying the words, because something inside Gar snapped. The mourning in Jason’s voice, knowing that Jason has missed him just as much - he went from dumb and lustful as Jason bounced on his cock to swelling with that passionate anger once again. He had missed too much time with Jason, and he needed to make up for it. He needed Jason to know that he couldn’t just run away - that he mattered. 

He became filled with the determined need to show Jason that he couldn’t leave - he could never leave, because Gar had missed him too. 

Gar loved him. Gar needed him. 

They needed each other. 

Gar grabbed him around the waist and with a deep growl that was truly bordering on animal this time, he flipped Jason over onto his back. His cock slipped out of Jason, slick from the lube, causing Jason to make a startled, disappointed noise as he suddenly felt far too empty. When Gar leaned over Jason and felt Jason’s getaway bag brushing against his knee, a swell of offense came over him. He reached for the bag, shoving it off the bed without a second thought - spilling clothes and other random items across the floor out of the open zippers, something that neither of them paid any mind to in the following hours. 

“Please, Gar-” Jason breathed out, and from there, anything else in the world was shut out for him and Gar. 

Maybe what they had done before could never be considered making love - but they certainly had their moments. Times when Jason would kiss Gar’s forehead after making him cum, before getting out of bed without a word. Times when Gar grabbed both of Jason’s hands and interlocked their fingers while he rocked his cock deep inside of him. But for the most part, they fucked filthy and horny and desperate. They fucked like two guys in a race to get each other off - and it worked for them. 

But this felt different. 

As Gar slipped his cock back inside of Jason, he locked eyes with the man below him and a spark ran through him that said this was different. This wasn’t turning to the closest warm body out of convenience or boredom. This wasn’t just a friendship with some very particular, spectacular benefits. This was the intense gaze of a lover, locked into a stare that said the rest of the world was locked out, completely forgotten just because Gar was touching him. 

This was coming home. 

This meant that nothing else mattered - no past transgressions, no supposed mistakes, no demanding corrupt figures that had used them as pawns in their own games - none of it could even be seen as Jason locked his knees around Gar’s lower back, holding him tightly in place, silently begging him not to go too far. 

A quiet: please, don’t leave me, I need you. 

I need you just as much as you need me. I swear it. 

Gar held back more tears, and his next huff of breath turned into another low growl - a sound that had Jason whining quietly and clenching down on his cock. That hint at his more animal side had always been something Jason had liked - especially knowing that Gar was the most tame ‘beast’ he had ever met. Ironic, considering that Gar could turn into a six hundred pound tiger and he could shred people with his teeth at will. But Gar was the most gentle person Jason had ever known - someone he trusted with his life within a day of knowing him. Someone better than his own blood relatives and shitty foster ‘families’ who had tossed him out onto the street without a second thought. 

Gar was never a beast, no matter what he was capable of. 

“Please.” Jason begged, his voice slightly choked and breathless. 

He held on tightly to the side of Gar’s face, the other hand straying around to grip the back of Gar’s shoulder - and though Gar’s cock was already throbbing and threatening to blow far too early, he knew he couldn’t deny Jason any longer. 

Gar pressed his forehead into Jason’s neck, unable to stand the piercing interrogation of that gaze - looking for atonement, looking for validation, looking for love. Gar would give him all of those things, and he fucking will - but he couldn’t concentrate on that and delivering a quality fuck at the same time. Jason deserved that, too. He deserved to cum in a spectacular and satisfying way. 

With his concentration a bit steadier, Gar began to fuck his hips forward - fucking into Jason in slow, smooth strokes. 

“Jay, fuck,” He moaned out. “So fucking good. You’re so fucking good.” 

Jason let out a high whine in return and Gar sped up his hips - fucking into Jason faster, but nowhere near as fast as Jason had been riding him. It was still so tender and slow, deep and firm as the thickness of his cock truly made a home inside of Jason that reminded them both exactly where he belonged. 

Jason’s voice warbled - becoming nothing but a nonsensical echo of weak sounds dispersing into the air. Gar couldn’t help himself; he kissed a trail from the middle of Jason’s chest up his neck once again, taking the time to lay a few more possessive bites across Jason’s neck before he reached his face. When he felt roughness under his lips, it truly sunk in that Jason had been hurt - he had picked up a few injuries while fighting to defend him and the other Titans. Jason had put his body on the line for them. 

How could Jason ever be bad if he was willing to get hurt in order to protect his family? 

A swell of passion and possessiveness streaked through him again. 

His tongue sneaked out of his mouth and he licked over the cut above Jason’s eye like a cat trying to lick the wound clean, all of his instincts heightened with the lust pumping through him. Something in his lust-drunken brain was screaming at him that Jason needed this care, and nothing more than the saliva from his tongue would make Jason feel better. 

He did this, kitten licking across the cut, while he continually ground his hips deeply against Jason’s, stuffing his cock ever deeper into Jason’s needy hole. It made for a breath-taking combination of care, attention, and heat that made Jason’s stomach curl. 

“Gar-” He gasped out. “I - ah - fuck!” 

Gar gave another little lick and then moved to grab both of Jason’s hands, entwining their fingers on both sides as he had done in the past. Previous times Jason had laughed about it or called him cheesy, or even suggested that Gar use handcuffs instead if he truly wanted to pin Jason down. But this time, as Gar brought the grip of their tangled hands up above Jason’s head and continued fucking him so deeply. Jason only let out another shuddering gasp and looked Gar in the eyes with a glassy look that said he was truly gone. 

He had surrendered everything to Gar now. 

He couldn’t have run from this if he tried. 

“Come on,” Gar grunted, slamming his hips a little harder, a little more determined - pulling back a bit more, going a bit deeper. It was a motion that pulled louder sounds from Jason, that made him tremble. 

“Cum for me.” He breathed into Jason’s ear. “Cum on my cock - so good for me. Cum for me, show me how much you missed me.” 

Gar kept Jason pinned by their joined hands and by his hips holding Jason tightly to the bed. With his cock slamming into Jason in fierce, heavy, hard strokes - and with Jason’s cock jostling between them, brushing against Gar’s impossibly hot stomach - it was difficult for him to deny the order. With those words spoken in that perfect voice, floating in his ears, the orgasm shot through his body like his soul awakening - like he was truly feeling himself for the first time since he had woken up after The Pit. 

“Shh - shit! Ah! Fuck!” 

He gasped and struggled to get air into his lungs, and Gar cloaked his mouth over Jason’s gaping lips, fucking him right through it. Jason’s cock jumped and jolted between them, painting both their stomachs with his cum while his hole tightened and clenched around Gar - while he shook beneath Gar and tightly grasped Gar’s hands. 

It was utterly perfect. 

“Please, please, please-” Jason gasped, frantic. 

He needed Gar to cum, too. He needed the feeling to be complete. 

Gar let out another growl, shoving his head into Jason’s neck, taking a healthy whiff of his sweat as he fucked his hips hard into Jason. 

“Mine.” He growled possessively into Jason’s skin. “Mine, mine, mine-” He punctuated each slap of his hips into Jason’s ass with the word, his mind filled with this as though it were the one true thing in the world. 

“Mine.” 

A final pathetic dribble of cum escaped Jason before Gar’s cock began pumping into him. As he came, Gar’s teeth latched onto his neck once again, biting down hard enough to pull blood this time - creating a twinge of copper under Gar’s tongue and wringing even more inhuman sounds out of Jason. 

Gar pressed his hips as deep as possible into Jason, making them both utterly high on the feeling of his cum fucking deep into Jason for the first time. Jason feeling it so warm inside of him and having it pool and leak down over Gar’s balls - it only further reminded them how utterly close they were, how deeply Gar had marked Jason, how Jason was cursed to return back to Gar because he needed this - it was a deep reminder of how Gar was his home. 

Tears leaked from Jason’s eyes and Gar licked them away, grinding his hips deep into Jason - causing stray whimpers and aftershocks of pleasure while his cock began to soften. 

“God, oh-” 

“I know.” Gar replied, his voice more ragged than he imagined it should be. 

When he pulled out, it felt like a shock to both of their systems. Too empty, too distant - even still so close to a warm body, too cold. 

Jason’s first instinct was to get up and go to the bathroom to clean up. Especially feeling the stickiness and the mess all over his body as he came down from the high. But Gar rolled onto his back and put a tight arm around his back. 

“Sleep now.” Gar told him, puffing out an oddly cute little yawn. For someone who had just fucked his brains out - he now resembled a sleepy little house cat. 

Jason found that he couldn’t really argue with that. 

… 

Even though Jason was exhausted and hadn’t slept much in the past few weeks, he woke up long before Gar did. 

There was still so much worry plaguing him. 

Oddly enough, Gar’s snoring was more of a comfort than it was a disturbance. It reminded him of sharing a wall with Gar when their bedrooms had been so close together; when he had laid awake at night after scurrying out of Gar’s bed at top speed after they had fucked, wondering what it would have been like if he had decided to stay. 

Back then, it felt like the end of the world to open up to Gar. But now, he couldn’t help but to wonder if it would have saved him in the long run. 

Titans Tower was never the perfect place for him. It only ever felt livable because Gar had been there. They grew so close so quickly - at the time, Jason had tried to convince himself that it was just friendship. That it was the delusion of being stuck in close quarters. Gar was convenient - he was a good fuck, close by, and he was hot. He was someone Jason could get off with while Dick and Bruce had him locked up. And most of all, Gar was pleasant to be around. He didn’t look down on Jason like he was just some street rat, and he didn’t expect Jason to perform miracles just because he had taken on the mantle of Robin. 

Gar treated him like an equal. At the time, that was the best that Jason could ask for. 

Jason didn’t think there were any possible downsides to being close with Gar, and letting himself have some sexual relief in the process. 

Until Deathstroke. 

If he had any feelings for Gar, he had been suppressing them, and then - Gar argued with him about going out to hunt down Doctor Light. He felt betrayed. He felt like Gar didn’t understand him anyway, like Gar would always side with Bruce’s favorite - Good Old Dickie. The one thing he had been putting Gar on a pedestal for - treating him as an equal - was slashed away within seconds. 

Back then, Jason couldn’t think rationally. He felt like he needed to capture Doctor Light and bring him in to get back in Bruce’s good graces, to show the Titans what he could do. He had no clue that Gar was scared for him; that he was acting out of fear, trying to protect Jason. (Something he would continue to do no matter what, apparently.) 

At the time, Jason was insecure and stir crazy and he let it get to him. 

And then, he was blindfolded, strapped to a chair, stabbed, and beaten, and all he could think of was how much he was going to disappoint Gar. How much he was going to hurt him. Bruce, Dick, and the other Titans were the farthest thing from his mind - all he could think about were the last time those soft lips had been on his, the flash of green hair. The utterly disappointed look Gar had given him when he had declined to call Dick for back-up before going into the train tunnels. 

Gar thought Jason was stupid. But Gar was so damn soft-hearted. And Jason couldn’t stop thinking about how much he was going to hurt Gar with his idiotic antics. How much he was going to take from someone who didn’t deserve it. 

As he was strapped to that chair, watching Deathstroke sharpen the sword, all he could think about was the look on Gar’s face - the tears he was going to cry when he was eventually told about Jason being sliced open. Especially because he knew that Gar would blame himself for not saving Jason, for not calling Dick sooner - and it was all Jason’s own stupid fault. 

When he got back, somehow unscathed, he kept his distance from Gar. It hadn’t happened then, but the day would come when he would bring Gar a lot of undue pain - and if he started severing their ‘friendship’ now, then he could eventually soften the blow. At least, that was his line of thinking. He kept far away from Gar’s room when he needed that comfort more than ever, thinking that it would both do them better in the long run. 

When a knock came on his door, he was surprised that it was Rose, and not Gar - and he was pissed off and annoyed more than anything. She was persistent and he was tired. 

When she barged her way in, he found a particular part of his brain nagging at him - telling him that technically, he was still single. He shouldn’t get so attached to Gar anyway, because it would only hurt them both later on. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be attached - he wanted to know that he could run at any time. He needed to know that he wouldn’t get hurt. More importantly, that he wouldn’t hurt someone soft and caring like Gar. 

He wanted to be able to say that everything going on between him and Gar was just sex. 

So he let himself kiss Rose. 

And he felt absolutely nothing. 

When she told him: ‘Don’t be stupid and maybe it’ll happen again.’ 

He wanted to bark out: ‘It won’t.’ 

But he didn’t want to lay it all out. He didn’t want to tell her of all people that he was in love with his best friend and that’s why he wasn’t available. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud - and that’s why he settled for simply telling her to loudly fuck off as he stormed out of Titans Tower, determined to be alone. Especially when Gar did nothing more than stare him down with sad eyes, not moving a muscle, making no efforts to chase him. 

He was meant to be alone. Or so he thought. 

It was very clear that Gar had other plans. 

Gar - who was currently snoring beside him with the presence of a slumbering lion. Perhaps Gar had skewed his idea of what it might actually be like to sleep beside a lion - wholly warm, downright hot, with heat radiating off his skin like a furnace, utterly soft and cuddly even though he was so muscled, someone who slept with his mouth agape and snored loudly - but in a pleasantly rhythmic way. He was a perfect, quaint, slumbering beast. 

He made Jason feel safe. 

It was not a luxury Jason had often in life. Maybe it was the thing that kept him coming back to Gar, again and again - that precious feeling of safety. It truly was better than any drug. 

More and more presently by the minute, Jason was reminded of the mess - the unpleasant drying cum between his cheeks and on his lower stomach, leaking out of him and no longer pleasantly warm. It made him want a shower. He didn’t want to scare Gar by having him wake up to an empty bed, but he also didn’t want to wake him, steal sleep away from him when he clearly desperately needed it. 

Jason nudged his way to the edge of the bed, trying to sneak away to the bathroom - but when he heard a harsh snort from Gar, he knew him well enough to know that this had signaled the end of his sleep; a harsh jolt awake. 

“Where are you going?” Gar mumbled tiredly, not even having his eyes fully open yet before he frantically looked around for Jason. 

“I was just gonna go shower, crawl outta my ass.” Jason hissed back, still feeling a bit raw and defensive. 

He knew that Gar would sacrifice anything for him, but he still felt unworthy. Like a puffer fish growing big in defense, Jason was spitting out sourness in a last-ditch attempt to get Gar to change his mind - to shift his thinking last minute and suddenly see the truth: to find him unworthy. 

Jason was almost shocked when Gar smiled. 

Gar held back a clever quip about how he had made a home inside Jason’s ass and he wasn’t going to change that now. 

“I’ll come with you.” He said instead. “Hot shower sounds nice right about now.” 

“You should stay and sleep.” Jason told him, still teetering on the edge of the bed. “You’re clearly tired.” 

“And you’re not?” Gar probed back. 

There was a moment of tense silence. Jason didn’t offer up a reply. 

“Come on, what’s this about?” Gar asked, fully opening his eyes now, propping himself up on one elbow to stare Jason down. 

“After I get dressed, I have to go and talk to Dick.” Jason declared. 

The words were heavy in the air. 

The admission that he no longer felt the need to run. That he wanted to make an effort to stay, that he actually wanted to ask for his place back with the Titans. 

Gar wanted to squeal with glee. Naturally, he held himself back. There would be a few more bumps in the road before Jason was officially home. 

“Not by yourself.” Gar told him sharply. 

Jason’s jaw clenched. He was afraid to admit that he needed the help. It was something he had been afraid of for a long time. 

But he knew that without Gar’s help, without Gar vouching for him in Dick’s eyes, the conversation would likely only go one way. 

And he needed to come home. He needed to stay. 

Jason felt weak, and his voice was quiet when he finally mustered it up. 

“Okay.” 

It was a weak surrender. But things between him and Gar had never been that kind of battle. Not the kind of battle that he had with Bruce, or with Dick, or even with himself. There was never any true hatred there. Just the kind of fierce anger you feel when you love someone so much that you fear losing them. 

So this surrender didn’t feel like a stain on his record - didn’t feel too much like giving up, after all. Not when the picture he ended up with had him and Gar in the same frame. It was something that made him feel more content and less defeated when Gar poorly concealed a smile in response - and then pulled him in for a kiss before getting up to grab towels for their shower.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so please do not ask for a second part or a continuation. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

Also, typically, I don't write character x character fics, so if you randomly found this in tags and you really like it - I apologize, because the rest of my masterlist is not like this and I won't be writing anything else like it anytime soon. I do write a lot of Titans fics and I have a lot more of them on my masterlist, so if you enjoy my style of smut or if you really enjoy my characterization of these two, then you should definitely check out the other things I have written - particularly No Place Like Home, which has a lot more JayGar scenes in it.

If you do really like my writing style and you want to see Titans x Reader fics (which is what I typically write), then you can follow me and sign up for my DC Titans Taglist by replying to this post asking to be put on the taglist or sending me an ask about it. Anyway, glad you enjoying the fic if you read this far, thanks for reading!!

[femmefighter]

Incoming rant - please scroll past to avoid this downer if you want.

I'm so disappointed in all of the events/fanart/servers/works etc that treat the Ahsoka series like the WolfWren or the SabEzra show. I got so heavily into Star Wars because of one character: Ahsoka. I was so freaking excited when they announced her live action series, and even more excited when, on viewing the trailer, saw that it was going to centre around multiple strong female characters! Seriously, I would jabber on to even non-Star Wars friends about how excited I was about the push of female characters in this show. And awesome female characters at that!!

I go looking for fan-created merch, be it artwork or clothing etc, and I am left so freaking wanting because everything is WolfWren. I am so starved for content that is of the main character of the show, I am at a complete loss at how the fandom has turned its back on such an incredible character for favour of a non-canon, self-proclaimed-toxic-yuri ship.

I know, I know, ship and let ship. I'm totally down with that. I love fandom art and fanfiction in general. I love me some gorgeous WolfWren art (not a SabEzra shipper, but that's a separate rant that we don't need to air, but I love their sibling relationship!). I might even love a bit of WolfWren fanfiction (very occasionally). And I have found one small, safe space on a server where I can safely indulge in my tiny little Sokabine tugboat of a ship (on Bo-Katan-centric server of all places, WTF? But damn I am so grateful for that space and those moderators). I know my ship is niche, (I don't know how, but anyway) I know I'm not going to find anyone who is as die-hard over my ship as I am. I expected that.

What I didn't expect was to find myself so lacking in Ahsoka-the-character content in fandom spaces supposedly dedicated to the Ahsoka show. Everyone loves a good ship, but the lack of other ships that could be celebrated from the show (NightDaughter, Herasoka, MonHera, ShinSoka, Morgbine, whatever!) I find is reflective of a lack of interest in the character traits of the individuals. To me, it seems like fans are more interested in an aesthetic than they are on histories, values and idiosyncrasies of the characters themselves.

Anyway, if you've got to the end of this rant, thank you for reading. Again, I don't mean to hate on such ships. I was actually just as excited as everyone else at how the actors validated WolfWren as a ship to enjoy, considering it was femslash fanfiction that made me feel less alone when I was a closeted teen nearly two decades ago. I'm just frustrated at the lack of space in the fandom for content that is different.

[echoedcrosshairs]

Unseen Scars ~ p.2

Summary: Female Jedi survived order 66 hides out in the underground of Ord Mantell. Hiding out in Cid's parlor keeping your head down you see Rex's face and get sent backward in time. (Gif by @dreamswithghosts)

Warning: Order 66 Jedi Trauma, Feeling Haunted, Soft Rex, Angsty and Love

Word count: 2.7

Masterlist part 1

Facing all that you fear will free you from yourself. Your nerves were still on edge tempting you to flee being around the rest of clone force 99 even if their chips weren't activated they were still at risk at going nuclear at any moment. Although the walk back to the parlor soothed your nerves being Echo and him again but going into the parlor into such a cramped space didn't help. Rex positioned you behind him hoping it would help sooth you, his arm went around your waist ready to shove you away if necessary. Nonchalantly Echo had placed himself between Rex and the rest of his brothers, he may have trusted them with every bone in his body since they rescued him but you were still the commander to him. They both wanted to protect you even from a non existed threat. It was comforting that after all this time Rex and Echo just had to look at each other to know what the other was thinking. The 501st may be gone but the bond between them lives on.

"Do you think the Commander will rehabilitate?" Tech said flatly looking at you then back to Rex mind conversation, "Obviously I disagree with the systematic eradication of the Jedi, she does not possess the same mental fitness as we clones have been bred to endure and the order has seem to take a heavy toil on her mental aptitude for returning to the fight."

"The Commander-" Rex started, "Can speak for herself," you cut in.

You swallowed looking at Tech, "A wise man once said Truth enlightens the mind, but won't always bring happiness to your heart. It is a lot to accept and understand but it doesn't heal the fact my own men, men I trusted with my life and fought beside for years, tried to terminate me nor the death of so many allies. That same man also said 'Ignore your own instincts at your own peril," you paused to look at them and up at Wrecker before your eyes shot back down, you couldn't help feel that something was wrong but the force was beckoning your silence, "I am not ready to find myself in that position again."

"Well get them out," Echo said defiantly, "We'll never be a threat to you, ever."

"I'll be in touch," Rex nodded pulling you away from them towards the exit but waited to speak until he put a decent amount of distance between you and Hunter, "The force is telling you something isn't it?"

"They have to get them out, soon. How did you get yours out?"

Jesse... Vaughn... Your mind wandered to the battlefield, having the 501st at your side. The boys always wanted to die in battle but never like that. You wiped the corner of your eyes, "They were good men," you choked out when he was done.

"The best."

The both of you continued down the street in silence, at some point your hand found his. It still hurt to look at him but his presence helped the pain, "Now what?" you whispered.

"You can stay here... or you can help me save my brothers, I have to try."

You looked at him, the conviction as dedication across his face was the same one he had before a battle, "I'll come," you whispered before you had time to think it through, "Don't know how much use I'll be, Tech has a point."

"It doesn't matter, just having a Jedi with us is enough especially you Commander," Rex said squeezing your hand, "We should gather your belongings, the boys are destined to pick me up shortly."

Weaving between side streets it was an easy back track to your tiny place, Rex found a bag and quickly packed your clothes as your hand rested against the slats in the floor concealing your past.  You scooted up lifting the slate with the force letting your free hand dig out the pouch after putting the board back you opened it retrieving the saber. The weight felt foreign in your grasp, the metal cool to the touch. You flicked it up into the air catching it with the other hand, just like riding a speeder. Looking over you saw Rex observing with a small smile before he returned to packing, you tucked the saber away.

"Are you sure about this?" he said slinging the bag over his shoulder but not looking at you trying to hide the grim expression. He would keep giving you a chance to go back to a normal life if you wanted one even if it hurt him, the war took so much from you he didn't want to be the reason you lost any more.

"Facing all that you fear will free you from yourself," you stated with a heavy breath, it wasn't the simple answer you knew Rex wanted but it was the truth, "If you remember Anakin and I were never one for running when things got tough. I think I've hidden in the shadows long enough." That statement was the first sliver of hope you had in a long time. Your eyes found Rex's, fondness had swept over them at the mention of the old days, the simple days. Keeping eye contact you took the short steps across to him tucking your face in his neck holding him. Your body still screamed run but your heart told you not to let go.

His hand found your back rubbing it, "We should get going," he sighed not wanting the tender moment to end, "Let's meet the 105th," he smirked.

"Did you really just switch the numbers?" you said with real genuine laughter.

"No, but I think I'll start calling us that if you make that beautiful sound again," he said putting your arm through the crook of his, "Let's go."

Finding the ship wasn't hard, it was discreet for the most part in the back of the docking station. The only tell tale sign that it was different then any of the standard ships around the port had been a barely noticeable white mark barely indistinguishable in the shape of Ashoka facial mark hidden near the bottom of the haul by the ramp.

Rex squeezed your hand tightly finding the nervous expression on your face, "None of these men will ever be a threat to you," he said giving the ship three solid knocks.

Your heart shook as the anticipation grew, these are Rex's men. Deserters of the Empire, they could be trusted. Right? I trusted my men... Clam grew over your skin as the ramp finally touched the ground. Looking up you found a green trooper looking down at you, one of master Yoda's men? You watched the trooper salute, standing at attention coughing to get the attention of the other trooper hanging near by who repeated his attention.

"Commander, this is Nemec and the brother over there is Fireball, at ease," Rex said giving them a stiff nod.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Nemec said as you walked on board after Rex.

"She's a little skittish around us clones so give her breathing room."

"Don't blame her," Fireball murmured, "I barely ever want to see our face again," he heard Nemec cough finding the glare he was giving him, "Just saying, I can barely stand to look at it after what our brothers did."

"His chip's defective, deteriorated but unlike Tup's it didn't execute the order early. It's out now. He took the loss of his General hard and found me soon after," Rex whispered.

"Let's get out of here, I'm going to show the Commander around," Rex said gesturing away from them, "Refresher, their room, my room, mess... sorta," he shrugged, "storage closet, I could turn that into your private room if you want one," he shrugged again nervously rubbing his neck at the unspoken question hanging in the area.

"I think I should share yours Captain, I'll want my own bed of course."

Rex's heart skipped a beat, "I can arrange that," he tried to keep his stern dignified expression but felt like a cadet, of course their had been nights together but never like this coexisting in the same place, "Sorry," he coughed finding the responsive blush across your face. "Anyway, you can take my bed for now. I'll go grab a spare mat from the storage room," he said setting the pack down on his bed excusing himself so you to get settled in. It's not like before di'kut, the reminder settled in his bones wondering if all of the closeness had been to much. He tried to steal himself to that possibility. Taking a seat outside the room, he forced himself to clear his mind until Nemec walked over.

"You sure about this, Captain," he said jetting his chin towards the door, "We need a Jedi on our side but are we sure being in these cramped quarters is good for her?"

Rex understood his brothers concern, he looked at the door for a moment before placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "She was always the backbone holding the men together after every major loses and always giving us hope. It's time we do the same for her." His tone was firm, "I trust her, she choose to come with me for a reason. I believe she knows she can work through this."

"Did you ever think she came because she loves you?"

"Trust her judgement, Vod," Rex smiled taking his hand off his shoulder, "Let's head to base." Turning on his heel Rex rummaged through the storage closet grabbing the rolled up mat before heading back to his room. Our room, he thought smiling. When he returned all of your belonging had already taken up the spade signifying your stay with him.

"I haven't seen or slept on one of those in ages," you smiled softly looking at the poor express for a bed as he laid it out, "I'll take the mat if you want the bed-."

"Don't even think about taking the floor Mesh'la," he said bringing his gaze to yours, "We'll head to our base to plan to get The Bad Batch's chips out and you can see everyone else, I know their's a couple other 501st troopers who'd love to see you," he smiled.

"Who?" You asked going wide eyed.

"Hawk and Dogma," his grinned widen, "I definitely didn't expect it either," he cautiously said walking forward letting one hand fall to your hip, "A Jedi and a captain, whatever are they going to think," he jested hearing you laugh melting some of the burdens in his heart, "I've missed you every passing moment, Cyare," his grin faltered for a second before returning, "No matter how long it takes I'll wait for you to be ready again," he said letting go, "the rest of my life if need be. Now I have to try to figure out how to get their chips out."

"Captain?"

"Yes, Mesh'la?"

You took the step back towards him wrapping your arms around his neck, the familiar scent, feel of him and the warm tiny tug through the force, "Thank you for being patient," you pulled away wrapping your arms at your side, "We can use the republic scrap yard, their were rumors of a ship being delivered."

"And you know this how?" Rex smiled crossing his arms.

"I did have a salvaging job to get by."

"I'll let the boys know and we can devise a plan, welcome back Commander."

You followed after him, skin prickling at Nemec and Fireballs presence. They each offered a small smile as you took the sit next to the Captain as he started planning. He was quiet for what seemed like forever when he hand stretched out and rested in your thigh as he kept working. You looked down at it, lip quivering as tears threaten to fall again. It's a different time, you placed your hand over his as you chimed it time to time with what little information you had.

"Rex?"

"Yes, Mesh'la?" he said not lifting his eyes from the task at hand.

"I'll love you the rest of my life too," you whispered squeezing his hand, "I think we're getting ready to land again," you said feeling the ship slowing down.

Rex gave a tiny nod standing up interweaving his fingers with yours, guiding you towards the cockpit finding Fireball bringing the ship down. You observed the low tech handmade building and the small cluster of troopers already waiting outside, greens, greys, a red and then the 501st blue. You saw the familiar valiant tattoo across Dogma's face and then the red hawk wing tattoo's on Hawk's temples. Walking off the ship Rex placed himself between you and the rest of them, each set of eyes noticing the hands bound together. You felt like you were going to be sick being around this many troopers, it apparently must have paled you.

"Commander, you're not looking so good," Hawk pointed out.

"Let's get some air Cyare," he said softly, "Hawk, Dogma both of you are coming with me to help a couple of our brother's get their chips out."

"Yes, Sir."

Gently you felt Rex stir you away from the crowd away from prying eyes towards the edge of the small base, guiding you towards a crate to sit on overlooking the forest, "Better?" he asked quietly.

"Do you think Tech's right? What if-."

"A wise woman once told me when I was losing faith in myself; A soldier's most powerful weapon is courage. Courage begins by trusting oneself. You choose to come with me, Commander, you could have stayed on Ord Mantell and lived out a regular civilian life but you didn't."

"You've been waiting since Tibrin to toss that back at me, haven't you?" you said with a smile sad laugh, your gaze travelled to the sky remembering other sayings you were taught; Who we are never changes, who we think we are does. One must let go of the past to hold on to the future. To seek something is to believe in its possibility. I was- I am Jedi, a Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic and partner of one of the most highly decorated Captain's. I do not run when the battle get's rough, I stand beside my men and face evil head first. I am survivor of Order 66, I lived to fight another day. You exhaled a breath you were apparently holding. Turning your head, you took his appearance forcing your mind to calm down and body to still. The familiar earthly tone of his eyes; the arrays of brown to shimmering golds, the short blonde hair, the expressive eyes just for you and a smile that puts very sun to shame. While your body tried to fight but your mind had already come to terms with reality, it might take for your body to catch up but it would be worth it. Rex would be worth it. You watched his hand come up and caress your cheek, your breath hitched as you leaned into it bringing your hand to his.

"Possibly," he smiled finally answering the question, "Ready to go back?"

"Yeah, I want to see the boys," you smiled.

Rex pulled you closer to him, "Let's go see the boys," he affirmed keeping his hand around your waist stirring you around troopers until he found the two other blues in the back rolling up their sleeping packs.

"Sir," Dogma saluted before staring down at Rex's arm, "Regulations-"

"No longer exist," Hawk pointed out, "Called it," he chuckled.

"Nice to see you too, Dogma."

"Sorry, still getting use to it," he added nervously.

"Me too," you mumbled.

"I am happy for the two of you," Dogma quickly added, "When are we leaving?"

"In a couple hours," Rex said feeling your body slowly continue to tense. His mouth fell agape when you reached out hugging the two of them, "I've missed you, boys," you whispered before pulling back. Rex's hand found your waist again feeling the muscles constrict themselves into knots. He stirred both of you back to the ship to your's room, "That was bold," he murmured eyeing you cautiously as you climbed onto the bed.

"With great risk comes great rewards," you offered, gently tugging his hand towards the bed smiling as redness flushed across his face. Sheepishly he removed his poncho and armor discarding it to a regulation neat pile on the floor, “How about until we leave I try to get use to being next to you again?”

“There is no other place I rather be then next to you, Commander,” Rex smiled climbing into the bed, “Just tell me when it becomes to much, I don’t mind taking my time with the scars I can’t see.”