yasmindifference

[yasmindifference]

i am in love with you /p please continue to be alive and cool and my new favorite stranger on the planet 🫵😾

thats all thank you

(and also thank you for writing its beautiful and im sk happy you post it)

Thank you, anon! ♡♡♡♡ This was such a nice message to get, I appreciate your sweet words ♡♡ I hope you have an amazing weekend ♡

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are u gone again :(

hi anon, not gone! just super super busy with the end of the year and all... thanks for your patience with me! ♡

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Hi, I have just finished reading "Sweet Dreams (are made of thee)" and absolutely loved it. It's so sweet and tender and I adored the way you balanced both perspectives of the dreamers. I was wondering if you would be willing to let me record a podfic of it? I don't actually use tumblr much but can be found on Ao3 as Kittymay.

ah, thank you, I'm flattered you find it worth the effort! please go ahead, just be sure to link to the original ♡ thanks for the interest! ♡♡♡

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You can only REBLOG THIS TODAY

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squints in ace attorney

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Typical role dustribution

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ok anyways. post this beast

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Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010)

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me every single time i’m on the edge of going fully insane about a new fandom: haha what if i just checked ao3. just for fun. just to see what there is. i won’t save anything or get in too deep i’ll just do some recon. i’ll just go see. for fun

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Reblog to give prev a fucking break holy shit y’all

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will you post your tim trying on janet's makeup fic on archiveofourown? pretty pretty please? I want to save it forever!

I'm flattered by the request, anon ♡ I do plan to post all of the cheer up prompt responses to ao3 once I'm done with them, but since the rest of them will probably be some flavor of jaytim and this one's gen, I went ahead and posted it separately for you:

experimentation

Thanks for your interest! ♡

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[yasmindifference]

Cheer up prompt #27

An anon and @this-was-a-terrible-idea also requested #27! A popular number apparently lol. I hope you all enjoy! ♡

"--and then Mr. Browsten said that with all the, um, the hullabaloo that it wasn't fair to make us take a test, so he cancelled it."

Tim pauses for breath and Mom hums an encouraging noise. When Dad makes that sound, it means he's not really listening, but he knows Mom's paying attention, even though she hasn't stopped curling her hair. From where he's lying on her bed, he can see her reflection in the vanity mirror, and she's frowning just like he knew she would.

Mom doesn't approve of canceling tests, which means she doesn't approve of Mr. Browsten, because he cancels them all the time.

(Mom says tests are important to know where improvement is necessary. Mr. Browsten doesn't seem to agree.)

"So we watched a documentary instead and it was pretty interesting, it was about puffer fish! Sarah asked what puffer fish have to do with grammar and Mr. Browsten said that learning is its own reward, but I think he just didn't have anything else ready so he took something from Ms. Cappola instead. She's the fifth grade science teacher and I heard her classes watch movies at least twice a week."

Mom tuts, which Tim was expecting, and sets down her curling iron.

"Ridiculous," she mutters. "I don't know why we're paying that school so much in tuition when they can't be bothered to teach you anything. It's a miracle you ever learned to read."

"It's because I'm smart," Tim informs her helpfully, and Mom smiles her special just-for-Tim smile.

"You are," she agrees. "And thank goodness for that. Now, would my smart boy do me a favor?"

Because Tim's smart, he already knows what she's going to ask. He rolls off the bed to his feet. "Curling iron?"

"Yes, please." Mom rolls her chair away from the vanity so he can crawl under it to unplug the curling iron. She plugged it in herself, but that was before she was all dressed up in her expensive dress. "Thank you, Timmy."

"You're welcome," he chirps, crawling back out.

Mom rolls back in front of the vanity, but Tim stays where he is, kneeling next to it so he can watch her put her makeup on. There are a lot of different bottles and brushes and powders involved, but Mom never hesitates. Tim doesn't know how she keeps it all straight.

He likes watching Mom get ready to go out. Sometimes--like tonight--she lets him pick out the jewelry she's gonna wear, and then she chooses her dress and hair and makeup all based on what he picked. Even when the colors don't match, it all fits together like a puzzle...a puzzle she pieces together in seconds after Tim's impulsive choice.

It's really cool.

Tonight, Tim picked pretty, dangly earrings with some kind of red stone (ruby, Mom said when he asked), so Mom picked a black dress. She said it would make the earrings pop, which he didn't get until he saw her wearing it.

Now, he watches her choose lipstick as red as the earrings and asks, "Does the lipstick make the earrings pop, too?"

Mom finishes smoothing it on before she smiles at him. "You tell me."

Tim studies her. The lipstick matches the earrings, but it doesn't draw attention to them the way the plain dress does. He already watched her do her eye stuff, and her eyes look bigger somehow, but they're not colorful like they were when they all went to the opera last week.

"No," he decides. "You went new...neutral?" He waits for her slight nod of confirmation, then continues, encouraged, "You went neutral with your eye stuff and red with your lipstick to make your lips pop."

"Very good," Mom says, smiling. She cups his cheek briefly before turning back to the vanity. "Clever boy."

Tim beams and watches in fascinated silence as she uses some kind of powder. Even though he's staring right at her, he can't tell what the powder actually does. All he knows is that when she's done, her face looks...different. Still pretty, but kinda sharper somehow.

Makeup is like magic, he decides. No matter how many times he watches her get ready, he can never figure it out.

"Can I try?" he asks impulsively.

"Try what?" Mom asks, a little distracted. The cap on one of her bottles is stuck and she's struggling to open it.

"Your makeup!" Tim takes the bottle from her and opens it by using the hem of his shirt to grip it better. Mom can't do that, her dress is all shiny and slippery. "You look pretty, I wanna try."

Mom pauses and then smiles.

"I don't have long before I have to leave," she warns him, "but I don't see why not. Do you want to pick out some lipstick?"

Tim absolutely does. He levers to his feet as, across the room, Dad finally stirs. He's been reading some stuff his assistant from Drake Industries brought by earlier, ignoring them both, but now he says, "Janet" in a weird tone.

"Jack?" Mom asks, even as she directs Tim's attention to the little circles on the bottom of her lipstick tubes that show what color they are. She has a lot of options.

"Janie, really," Dad says. He sounds unhappy, and Tim looks up from comparing two different shades of pink to find him frowning. "You can't mean to let our son--"

He stops mid-sentence and Tim bites back a wince. Dad's in trouble; Tim hasn't seen that look on Mom's face since he told her about his last nanny giving him whiskey to help him sleep when he woke up from bad dreams.

"My son," Mom says very deliberately, "is welcome to express himself however he likes."

Is trying makeup expressing himself? Tim just wants to see if it makes him as pretty as it does Mom.

Either way, that's not a good tone. Tim looks down and concentrates really hard on picking out a lipstick.

"Janet," Dad tries again, weakly. He obviously knows he's in Big Trouble, but for some reason he hasn't apologized yet. Tim tries to psychically tell him to cut his losses and back down, but his telepathy apparently still hasn't kicked in, because Dad says, "It's just that--"

"Do you know what you want to try, sweetheart?" Mom asks, completely ignoring Dad.

Tim looks between his parents, decides to let Dad dig his own grave, and hands Mom the red he settled on.

(If it's the red that most closely resembles the red in Robin's uniform...well, it's not like Mom has any way of knowing that.)

"Excellent choice!" Mom says. She stands up from the vanity and pats her chair. "Take a seat."

Tim does, excited. He's not usually allowed to sit at Mom's vanity.

Lipstick, he learns quickly, feels really weird. He has to sit super still while Mom puts it on him, and it makes his lips feel weirdly heavy, like there's something on them.

Which there is, actually, so...he doesn't know what he was expecting.

Mom hands him a tissue so he can "blot" his lips, just like he's seen her do a million times, and then steps aside so he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"Whoa," Tim says, leaning closer. He makes a few faces, pushing his lips together and out, transfixed by how bright and noticeable they are. It doesn't make him pretty like Mom, but he likes how it looks anyway. "Cool."

Behind him, Dad throws up his hands and leaves the room. He's angry, Tim can tell, but Mom is smiling down at him, so Tim's not worried.

"Do you want to pick eyeshadow next?" she asks.

"Yes, please!"

Prompt #27 was experimentation! Well selected! ♡♡

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sometimes it's great when people reblog your tumblr fic

other times you only notice the typos SIXTEEN HOURS LATER

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There is a calm. A stillness to the air that betrays Jason's mind. He can breathe, ribs expanding with every breath easily. There's a voice in the back of his head, what was he doing just now?

At his feet, crumpled on the floor surrounded by fire and debris is a body.

No.

Not a body.

That's him.

The voice in his head is louder now. It's grief.

And yet Jason can't quite touch the feeling.

"No, I won't," a voice says.

Jason turns, everything slow and distorted, to see two figures. Both dressed in shrouds of black. The taller is a woman, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders in stark contrast to her clothes and the crown of black thorns she wears. The shorter one wears a hood, the shadow concealing their face from view.

The woman sighs, pursing her lips.

"You only get one."

One what, Jason wants to ask. Wants to ask a lot of things, actually, like who they were and what they were doing here.

"I can't," the other repeats. They sound young. Younger than Jason, he thinks. They turn their head, looking up at the woman and Jason barely gets a glimpse of their mouth as they say in defiance, "I won't take Robin."

The world goes cold, then hot, Jason's chest is exploding in pain.

When he wakes up it's to the sound of a heart monitor and the weight of Bruce slumped over his legs.

He tries to piece things together, holding on to a memory that slips through his fingers like water. It only gets harder when Bruce wakes, gingerly holding Jason's head with quaking hands as if he can't believe Jason is real. It only gets harder when Alfred and then Dick arrive, both looking just as haunted as Bruce.

They recount in shaking words that he'd nearly died.

Jason looks down at his hands, feeling the cool bedsheets beneath his fingers and wonders if he was supposed to.

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there was a cool jason todd cosplay on tiktok and i needed to draw it