This is pretty much based on my dream 2-3 days ago lmao… he isn’t even my bias but I dream about him often. I hope y’all like this ♥ Admin Ayu~
Even a day ago you hated your tutor, Jung Jaehyun, with
passion. But at that very moment, you were straddling him and chasing his lips
as he teased you with a proud smirk on his face.
Your history tutor, one you didn’t need, was the
one you hated the most. You both shared a very intense relation of exchanging
livid gazes and comebacks. He thought of you as a cantankerous 18-year-old, and
all you could make out of his persona was a proud and ignorant 19-year-old.
Both of you were very aware of the fact that you both hated each other. And you
somehow suddenly felt bad that you hadn’t gotten along with him like your best friend,
who had had him as a tutor prior to your needs.
“If you really feel bad about having hurt a tutor
as nice as eloquent as him, it’s his 20th birthday this Friday; you
could give him a toblerone. He loves toblerone!”
Your single ass had forgotten that that
Friday was the day lovers united with more emotion and grandeur up their
sleeves to quench their thirst and make the 14th day of February very
worthwhile, as if the other days weren’t so.
You never really tried to make sense out of the
Valentine’s Day. But then as you felt his hardened length against your clothed
heat, his heartbeat against your palm, and opted to suck oh his Adam’s apple
instead; the day just seemed very worthwhile to you for the first time in 18
years of your life.
He let out a breathy chuckle as he tried his
earnest best to not let his voice quiver. Your lips and the tip of your tongue
slid down the side of his neck causing him to tighten his grip on your
hip, “You seem pretty skilled, I must say.”
You felt your neck heat up as you reflected upon
how he complimented your inexperienced kisses, bites, and sucks.
You sucked your way up to his ear to harshly bite
on his earlobe, a groan leaving his lips, “Just so you know,” you
whispered, making sure your warm breath ran across his ear, “I hate you.”
“I hate you, too.” he replied instantly, though his
voice held no distaste toward you.
Had he not assumed the toblerone was a Valentine’s
present, you wouldn’t be making out with the hottest man you had ever laid eyes
on. You were thankful, somewhat. You did hate him even then, but you couldn’t
deny the fact that his hands meeting your raw skin drove your mind to a unique
sense of euphoria. Oh, his hands were just on your skin and you had not the
slightest courage to imagine how much his hand cupping your wet mound could
‘I’d rather not.’, you thought to
yourself as you brought your face up from the crook of your neck to kiss him in
the mouth, before he stopped you by gently placing his hand over your lips. You
frowned at him, he had not been letting you kiss him for a while then, and one
or two sloppy kisses you two had shared at the beginning of this very
fascinating and heavenly makeout session didn’t really allow you to feel the
total bliss your lips were craving for.
“Take your tongue out.” his voice was husky and
deep and low, so low that the junction between your legs almost squirted out
You fluttered your eyes closed and hesitantly
brought the wet appendage that had lapped against his even a while ago out,
feeling it shudder witj embarrassment and subtle guilt.
Jaehyun was good at everything, but he was excellent at
sucking your tongue. Your throat produced moans and cries they had never done,
and you had no clue that someone as restrained and vocally-inept as you during
heated hours could make such lewd, explicit sounds.
Jaehyun hummed as the tip of your tongue touched
the back of his mouth, sucking you as if your tongue was coated with sugar and
honey. Well, you did have honey milk tea earlier for your cold, thank God.
You lightly patted on his chest to stop, and he did
so. He was a gentleman who never pushed the buttons without a woman’s
You slightly lifted your hip and your hands slowly
approached his cock. He was staring at your face, taking all your features in
as he audibly gulped. You didn’t want to keep him waiting anymore. You removed
yourself completely and kneeled down before him. Unzipping his pants you
prepared yourself, and prayed to God that Jaehyun also did so, for the best
head you could ever give and he had ever received.
“Ah-choo!” he sneezed for the umpteenth time
as he tried to teach you the lesson he was supposed to the previous day, which
was abruptly interrupted by your very intense makeout session. None of you were
“Poor Jaehyun…” you teased, a smirk making its
way to your lips.
“Just let me get well, we’re alone at my place 4
days a week anyway.”
Tell us about Tony learning that it's okay to say "no"? To having sex when he's not in the mood or not liking something or not wanting to eat a certain food, etc. Love you! You're my favorite owl lol :)
I mean for the most part it doesn’t even occur to him that if he doesn’t like a certain food he doesn’t have to eat it. Obadiah never gave him that luxury and tbh it seems like a waste. Tony is not a fan of waste. So when he sees all of his favorite foods after Bruce mentions to Sarah that he needs some lighter food he’s pleasantly surprised. (Also he doesn’t say no to food because he was an abused child and was often sent to his room without supper. Sometimes Jarvis had to sneak food to him.)
And, of course, it’s not often that he has to do something he doesn’t like with the Rogers. In fact, he can count on his hand the things he’s done in the Rogers kingdom he didn’t like (seeing Steve again after the arm wrestling thing, trying a raw gooseberry, having to meet the rest of the Rogers nobility). Living with the Rogers is actually a cakewalk compared to all the gross people he had to play nice with when he was under Obadiah’s thumb.
It’s mostly the sex that he has a problem saying no to. For so long he’d been told that was all he was good for, and Steve and Bucky obviously enjoy having sex with him (sometimes he feels super proud that he’s doing a good job pleasuring his husbands even though he has no idea what he’s doing??? But Steve and Bucky praise him all the time so he must be doing something right). So he should just suck it up if he’s not feeling like it, right? He should keep his mates happy??? But Sarah said he could say no. Maybe that was a trick? (She hadn’t tricked him with anything else, but he’d been constantly on edge with Obadiah. Tony had expected tricks and still had been slapped in the face with them.)
It starts as en experiment at first. Steve has him backed up against a wall, his hands are on Tony’s waist, their kisses are turning deep and wet– And Tony turns his head away and lets out the quietest, most unsure “No?” But Steve leans back immediately, frowning, eyebrows furrowing in concern. He strokes a hand up and down Tony’s side but it doesn’t–doesn’t feel as lewd as it had a moment ago, all soft and slow. “You’re not feeling it, honey?” Tony blushes with shame, that residual ‘you should be pleasing your husbands!’ feeling rising in his throat. “That’s okay,” Steve says after a moment, and leans in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth. Tony feels guilty about it but Steve continues to smile at him like he always has and something in him loosens.
So the next time Bucky is pressing kisses to his throat, hands beginning to dip under the waistband of his breeches, Tony murmurs, “Um, I don’t really want to…” Bucky leans back, and he looks concerned too, like Steve did. “Okay, sweetheart. Did I do something wrong?” Tony feels that shame again, hunches his shoulders. “No!” “Oh, good,” Bucky says, and then leans in for a quick kiss. Bucky smiles at him like he always had, too.
Tony says no a few more times, and Steve and Bucky always respectfully back off. Tony feels powerful. Tony could say he never wants sex again, and they would respect it. He has the power to say no.
“Oh!” Steve says when Tony crawls into his lap and cuddles up against his chest, moving his arms so he had room. He held the book he’d been reading to the side awkwardly. “Hey, Tony, I was just–Oh,” he mumbles against Tony’s lips when he draws him down for a kiss. He drops the book on the floor.
When Bucky comes in to see where his husbands are he barely gets out, “Hey, what are you–” Before Tony runs up to him to pull him down for a kiss and then drag him to the bed. “What is–what–oh, hello darling, I’ve missed you too–”
Dragon Age Meta: The Biology and Life History of Lyrium, and Dwarven Physiology
Here is part 2 of 3 treatises on lyrium so far! It’s nearly 2000 words. Why am I doing this? Because science, and I think this is a plausible explanation of how some of Thedas works. And because my nerdy brain won’t let me rest until I get these headcanons down.
Part 3, Pathophysiology of the Blight Disease and the Origin and Rise of Red Lyrium, has been split off because this is getting really, really long; I’ll post it tomorrow.
ALSO if you actually read this all the way through THERE MAY BE ANATOMIC ILLUSTRATIONS I DOODLED as a bonus!
In Dragon Age: Inquisition, Bianca Davri tells Varric that lyrium is alive, and the cause of red lyrium is the Blight, which only affects living things.
But what is naturally occurring lyrium, anyway?
Lyrium’s most likely analogue in our world is a fungus. Lyrium does not appear to grow in sunlight, making photosynthesis impossible, and is found deep within the earth, as are many molds, deep mushrooms, and lichens. Lyrium also shares characteristics with fungi like mycelia, AKA a fungus’ branching, thread-like vegetative form. There are reports of fungi that may cover over a mile (there is a fungus in Oregon that is believed to be 2.4 miles in diameter and is still only one organism) by way of these projections… which could also be referred to as veins. Lyrium veins are present in both Dragon Age: Origins and DA2, and it is constantly mentioned that lyrium must be mined, despite the fact that you can walk into pieces of it in the Deep Roads – clearly there must be more, much more, beneath the surface.
If lyrium is a living fungus, that allows it to be infected by the Blight.
Why hasn’t lyrium been known to be alive before? There may be several answers for that. Its fruiting bodies or rhizomorphs (the bits of lyrium that Hawke or a Warden stumbles upon in the deep roads) may be so hardened that it seems like to a soft type of mineral, like talc. Given that a rhizomorph is made up of millions of tiny threads of hyphae, you could take a rhizomorph and crumble it, and if the fungus is rather hard, it would not seem unlike a mineral. Keep in mind that no one has developed the microscope in Thedas.
Saeran tending an injury Mc got (this Mc is a big cry baby when it comes to pain) also may I just say your writing is amazing and I just haven't read a one shots like your in along time and just reading them wow, keep up the great work! I'm so glad I found your blog!
A/N: Aww, you’re so sweet anon! :) Thank you!! Hope you like this one!
Tears prick your eyes, threatening to slip out from the corners to mix with the perspiration trickling down the sides of your face. You bite down on your lip and hold your breath as you try to ignore the sweltering heat and the painful sting of the angry red abrasion stamped on your knee.
It’s hard to ignore, however. You’ve never had a decent tolerance for pain. Injuries and scrapes like these have been one of your greatest fears growing up till now, and you shudder at the thought of having to bathe later. You absolutely abhor the idea of having anything come into contact with your raw, bleeding wound. Just the thought alone is enough to make you wince, and maybe it’s purely psychological, but you swear the sting on your knee worsens a little.
“It’s just a small scrape,” you hear Saeran comment. He’s squatting next to you, head hovering above your knee as he examines your fresh injury with a blank face. It’s nothing to him, and you’re not that surprised. Considering the ordeals he had been through in the past, this is far too trivial, and your state of panic laughable and pathetic, at best.
Still, you can’t help the quickening of your pulse when you feel tiny droplets of his perspiration drip onto your leg, perilously close to your wound. You want to tell him to move away, or to wipe his sweat off first, but you daren’t release your teeth from your lower lip for fear of losing control over your tear ducts at this point.
He clicks his tongue, and then removes his bag pack, opening it and sieving through its contents. “We’ll need to wash this before it gets infected,” he remarks.
The sight of him pulling his large water bottle out of his bag is enough to make your blood run cold.
Do you know what would be the daily duties of a priestess of Athena in Ancient Greece? (Or just general info about what their lives would be like, any major holidays/events etc)
there nonny! What an interesting question! To answer it I’m going to rely on Joan
Brenton Connelly’s Portrait of a
Priestess. You have one particularly interesting Athenian priestess in
Chrysis. She, and her descendants, were granted special rights and privileges. You may try and find out more about here or her descendants or, of course, make up your own fictional priestess.
all, there were other priestesses than the priestesses of Athena Polias, but
there are a lot of detailed resources left with names and images (painted on
vases) that makes the Athenian priestess easier to research. She also had a
very prominent place in the Greek world as holder of “one of the most
distinguished offices”, as Connelly puts it.  It was a hereditary position,
not something any woman could hold. It was the privilege of the Eteobutad
family and only available to married women within that family. To be a
priestess of Athena Polias was a position she then had for the duration of her
life.  There is evidence suggesting that around twenty-five priestesses
between the end of the fifth century B.C. to the end of the second century A.D., all of the above mentioned family. 
duties. Well, the belief was that “’all agree in regarding women as the chief
founders of religion and it is the women who provoke the men to the more
attentive worship of the gods, to festivals’”.  Basically, the priestesses
were in charge of worship. So if you want your main character to be the
priestess of Athena Polis, you have indeed a very powerful figure to work with!
Women were central to the religious
life and the priestesses linked the people with the deities.  A priestess,
of course, would have duties during rituals. They were also, however,
responsible for the temple and its inventory; they had to make sure nothing
went missing or was damaged. During processions it was also her responsibility
to carry things that were considered to be holy. The route was either from the
center of worship, in this case the Athenian Acropolis, towards some outer
region, or the reverse. Whichever it may be, the priestess would be at the very
center of attention and very visible to the citizens. 
there are several iconic evidences that in Athena, a ritual of sacrifice was
common. This was a procession where the priestess led the worshippers (there
would be singing and dancing and pipes being played rather than a quiet solemn
affair) to a burning stone alter upon where a bull or ram (or both) would be
sacrificed. A statue of Athena were likely to be present – there are images
showing Athena sitting down behind the alter.
while it was certainly possible for worshippers to prey directly to a deity, a
priestess could also lead the worshipper in prayer. She would do this, for
example, at the end of a procession. It is also mentioned several times in the Iliad how priestesses pray in times of
common crisis. For example, Theano offers a “richly woven robe upon the knees
of Athena´s statue” before praying. (The
position of someone praying would be arms raised skywards with palms upturned.
It was only in special occasions that one would kneel and it would almost
always be a woman kneeling.)
to reinforce prayer, liquid offerings were often used. It could be poured on an
alter or the ground, using a bowl or jug. It could be used with a blood
sacrifice or instead of one. At times the liquid would be poured directly onto
the flames and the reaction would be interpreted as a way for the deities to
communicate. Whine was the most common liquid but for some rituals milk, oil,
honey or water would be required instead. Liquid offerings were most closely
connected to death and funeral but also hero worship and to honour the deities.
feasting: sacrificing rituals ended with eating the meat, after having cooked
it, in a celebratory fashion. Vase paintings show scenes of women feasting and
drinking together in this way.
to focus a bit more on the sacrificing rituals, since animal sacrifice was one
of the most important parts of Greek worship. At the end of a procession “the
formal rites of dedication and consecration took place”, then lustration and
prayer. The animal to be sacrificed would be slaughtered, the priestess would
look for omens, the meat would be cut and placed on the alter. Anything
inedible was given to the deity while the worshippers and divinities shared the
rest.  It seems that women generally did not slaughter and cook the animals;
rather this was something a butcher would be hired to do. It’s not to be
understood as the butcher having any significant role in the sacrifice,
however. The priestess would initiate by placing the raw meet on the alter,
after which each worshipper (man or woman) might place their share. 
Breton Connelly, Portrait of a Priestess:
Women and Ritual in Ancient Greece, (New Jersey: Princeton University
Press, 2007), 1. 
Ibid., 59. 
Ibid., 165-166. 
Ibid., 166. 
Ibid., 167. 
Ibid., 179. 
A/N - So this is my first time writing Braun so please let me know if I did okay.
Being on the road was tough, you practically worked non-stop, Raw, Live Shows, meet and greets and appearances. Being a WWE Super was hectic but your boyfriend Braun made everything so much easier and enjoyable. With Braun by your side, he made things exciting and travelling so much easier.
With Wrestlemania only two weeks away, you and Braun were both putting in the hours. The one thing you couldn’t and didn’t want to happen was to get sick. No way could you afford to get sick yet it seemed as if your body had decided to punish you for working so hard.
The morning that you and Braun had the longest car drive to get to the next city, as soon as your eyes fluttered open you were tackled by the ache’s and the pains, your head felt like it was full of cotton wool, your nose blocked and your throat agonisingly sore. You just had to get sick two weeks before Wrestlemania, stupid body. You mentally scolded yourself, you slipped out of bed to get ready for the car journey, as soon as you stood up your head swayed suddenly your body felt like it was on a boat and not the stable and straight floor of the hotel bedroom. You slowly staggered into the bathroom, yet soon it got all too much, you sat on the edge of the bath, resting your head wondering why you had to travel today. It was just one of the things you had to do.
While you sat on the edge of the bath trying to compose yourself. You hadn’t heard the bathroom door open.Too consumed trying to perk yourself up so you can get through the day. You didn’t want to tell Braun, he had so much to focus on and you didn’t want him to have to worry about you as well.
“Darlin is everythin’ okay?” Braun’s deep southern voice broke your concentration. You looked up giving him your best smile, you hoped that Braun would fall for your false happiness yet as Braun’s smile faded you knew that he hadn’t. Sometimes it was scary how much Braun knew you, on the other hand, you were the same way you knew if something was wrong by a simple hand gesture of the way Braun’s faced moved. Most were unable to recognise the simple signs but both of you knew exactly what was going on with the other.
“Darlin, you know I know when ya look at me like that you’re lyin.’” Braun crossed the room, crouching down when he was in front of you, putting his hands on top of years you knew he must have felt how sweaty and clammy they were.
“I’m just not feeling too good that’s all. I’m okay to travel. I’m just not feeling particularly hot right now. ” Braun’s large hand rested on your forehead, his brow creased, you knew he was thinking but about what you couldn’t be quite sure.
“Darlin your always hot. Why do ya think I keep ya around?” Braun teased if there was one thing that Braun knew how to exceptionally well amongst other things was to know how to put a smile on your face in an instant.
“Whoa, and there was me thinking you kept me around for my great personality.” Braun shocked you when he rested his forehead against yours. You didn’t want him to get sick too, you tried to pull your head away but Braun wrapped one of his hands around the back of your neck loosely.
“I keep ya around because I’m madly in love with ya Darlin. Do ya think ya going to be able to get dressed on ya own?” You nodded, it might have taken you a little longer than normal but if you keep things slow and steady you might just be able to do so.
“I’m goin’ downstairs to see if I can grab anything to make ya feel better. You are not to do anythin’ then get yourself dressed do ya understand?” Nodding slowly, Braun pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving your hotel room in a desperate search for anything that would make you travelling a lot easier.
Braun ended up being much longer than he anticipated. Why? The shops that were located in the hotel had nothing that Braun thought would be useful or to his standard to make you feel better so he ended up taking a quick run into the nearby town where he found medicine and a few extra items that Braun thought you could use. He ran back up to your shared hotel room to see you fully dressed sprawled over the bed, he smiled when he heard the soft snores escape you. You definitely were sick. Normally you would have already loaded the car by now because you always wanted to “pull your weight in this relationship” Braun never minded doing all of the heavy lifting and loadings and unloadings of the car but if he attempted to do it all by himself you would scold him. Today was a very different because he was not going to take you arguing with him (not that your sleeping state would) he was going to take care of you whether you wanted him too or not.
Braun very quietly moved the bags from the hotel room to the car, before retracing his steps to retrieve you who was still sleeping soundly. As soon as he picked you up to carry you towards the car he expected you to wake up instantly, yet the only movement you made was to move your face deeper into Braun’s neck, his smile grew and a quiet chuckle escaped his lips even when you were asleep your body seemed to react naturally to his touch. Braun slowly opened the car door before gently placing you inside, opening up the back door, Braun rummaged through the bags from his trip to the store earlier until he found what he had been looking for ripping off the packaging of the blanket that he had brought specifically for you, Braun draped it around your body before putting your belt on carefully and closing the car doors before getting into the drivers side to begin to long drive to the next city.
Summary: Tim and Jason go undercover as a just-married couple celebrating their honeymoon in order to catch a high-profile drug lord. Hand-holding, kissing, secret rendezvous and bed sharing ahead.
Word Count: 15K
“Will that be all, Mr. Drake-Wayne?”
Tim’s eyes snapped back to the pretty woman standing behind the concierge desk.
“Umm?” Tim blinked, catching the glare off the golden name tag pinned to her floral dress. He thought, vaguely, that it was almost the same shade as his wedding ring. “What?”
“She asked if we needed anything else, babe,” Jason said suddenly, leaning into the space between Tim’s neck and shoulder and planting a quick, chaste kiss. “Jetlag already?”
It was only a quick brush of skin against skin, hardly anything; and yet, Tim felt almost too big for his body, fighting a sudden urgency to sink into the depth of some unnameable feeling that pulsed hotly just beneath his skin.
The woman laughed and slid over two sleek hotel card keys, rattling off several free amenities, pool hours and how to book a couple’s massage at the spa.
“Thank you,” Jason said, somewhere next to Tim’s ear. When he reached from behind Tim to grab the card keys off the polished marble, his chest pressed against Tim’s back in a wall of sudden warmth. Jason was a wall of sunlight against Tim’s back, and he smelt better than any person had a right to after flying so many hours on a stuffy plane.
When Tim didn’t move quickly enough, Jason brushed Tim’s hand away from his suitcase. “Come on,” he said, pulling it behind with his own as he moved away from the concierge desk.
The unexpected gesture caught Tim off guard, but Jason looked calm and unconcerned as they dodged a sea of incoming tourists all donning different versions of the same floral shirts and sundresses. The resort was both stunningly beautiful and modern, a place that looked as if it were made for granting wishes for nothing more than a quick slide of a plastic.
As they waited for the elevators to ping to the lobby floor, Tim tried to process the madness of the past four days.
The feel of Jason standing so close next to him.
It was only another moment before the doors opened, and they moved to stand in the center of the empty elevator. Jason winked at the attendant and wrapped a strong arm around Tim’s waist.
“Honeymoon suite,” Jason said.
His grip made Tim’s adrenaline spike, and if his voice was the sound of a motorcycle’s engine revving as the doors shut, his touch felt like racing through sloping hills in the middle of the night with the lights off, the pavement rushing up to meet the raw burn of tire.
The attendant gave a tired smile, but paid them no special interest nor sympathy for Tim’s personal crisis. He probably heard nothing but excited, trivial chatter from couples and families visiting the resort from all over the world.
It should not have been so difficult for Tim to slip into his character for this mission, but he found himself feeling awkward and unsure standing next to his partner. The dreamlike daze he’d been stuck in all morning was quickly fading away, leaving him restless and distracted. The gentle flux of the elevator did little to ease his nerves.
“Well, look,” Jason said into Tim’s ear, his lips almost brushing against his skin. “Isn’t that interesting?”
Tim stiffened, but turned his head to stare out the elevator’s back wall, which was made of strong plexiglass. He watched their target guide two men through the white, marble lobby below. They were well-dressed in expensive suits that stood out in the sea of Hawaiian florals, and each carried two leather duffel bags.
Mr. Javier Bello, The Shark.
He was the owner of the resort property they were currently staying and leader of an organized crime ring importing drugs into Gotham. Dick had been tracking him for the last six months, building a case backwards from Bludhaven and tracing crates back to this hotel. Red Hood worked in tandem, terrorizing the docks and blowing up every unreported shipment until one of Enrico Inzerillo’s men confirmed the connection.
And then Dick got caught up in something bigger than this with Damian, and despite the months of prep work and planning, Tim found himself thrown into the middle of the case, playing catch up and house with Jason, of all people.
Bello and his men disappeared from view, and Tim was left to ponder the negative space between his body and Jason’s, who hadn’t moved away after bending down to whisper into his ear.
Intimacy wasn’t a foreign concept to Tim, despite his track record. Affected intimacy was even less-so, as he’d played dozens of roles while on the job, including a hopelessly clueless boyfriend to an overzealous honeypot. It was something he’d trained for, something they’d all been exposed to at one time or another while working for Bruce.
But Tim had never had to work with someone he liked.
When the elevator dinged at their floor, the attendant offered to help with their luggage. Jason responded with a few words in Spanish, too quick and low for Tim to decipher the meaning. Whatever he’d said had made the older man laugh, his tired gaze sliding from beneath wrinkled eyelids to study Tim.
Jason was charming, but Tim had already known that. All of Bruce’s wardens knew how to turn it on and off; it was a practiced skill, like most things in their line of work. But Jason wore it almost too well, like a perfectly tailored suit or an expensive haircut. His playfulness went deeper, felt more natural, and Tim remembered why he’d never gotten into bed with Jason on something like this before.
It was too dangerous, how desperately Tim wanted all of it to be real. Wanted all of Jason’s warmth and his bitterness, his rage and his humor — even the slanted edge of his wolfish smile — all for himself.
When he pushed open the hotel door that led to their suite, Jason whistled. “Remind me to get hitched more often.”
A large, white bed sat at the center of the room, and Tim’s eyes skated past it with a sense of impending dread. Shiny wooden floors gave way to three floor-to-ceiling panes of glass leading out to a balcony that overlooked a small stretch of beach and miles of blue-green ocean.
A spacious, open bathroom rested to the right of the bed, separated by bamboo slats that made the room feel larger. Behind the divider was a porcelain bathtub, large enough to easily fit two people, and behind that, a small tiled shower. An unopened bottle of champagne chilled in a wooden bucket near the tub, two empty glasses waiting for them to toast to their eternal happiness.
Tim ignored it all.
Denial, at least, was something that he was infinitely good at practicing.
When he re-entered the main room, Jason was running his fingers through a line of red and pink rose petals that the hotel staff had arranged into a heart on their bed. The sight of such a cliched welcoming made Tim want to run and take the next flight out back to Gotham. But the way Jason pinched a soft, red petal between his fingers stirred every midnight thought that Tim had locked in the back of his mind, a warning breeze slipping between guilty pleasures that refused to wilt.
When Jason realized Tim was standing behind him, he lifted his head and grinned. “I think they want us to have sex,” he said, throwing a handful of flower petals at Tim’s head.
“Just check for bugs,” Tim ordered, hastily brushing the petals from where they had settled in his hair. He made a beeline for the balcony, and the sound of Jason’s warm laughter followed.
I’ve been scanning and posting narumitsu doujinshi for a little while now but making them show up in the tags is a pain in the ass. So here’s a list of the latest stuff I’ve posted in case you’re interested.