To define is to limit.

Professionally, he uses this ability to remove Carter from dangerous situations with patients when the intern won't listen to reason. Or when he's fallen asleep in a bed they need but there's time for Carter to catch some rest, don't wake him, I'll just move him myself--

Intimately, he'll toss Carter onto the bed, or smoothly adjust until Carter's back is against a wall, long legs wrapped around Peter's waist. Their bodies flush together as Peter thrusts against his, either cock to cock or slipping in between his glutes before pushing into his desperate hole. Carter's thin wrists fit in the circumference of Peter's fingers and he wraps himself around him, pinning Carter, forcing the ever moving body to still even as he comes, even as his body vibrates and undulates under the strength holding him, moans loud, hips rolling with every rub and press against his prostate, he's still pinned, shoulders pressed where Peter pleases, unable to escape when the intensity rises, made to come again and again, so beautiful like this, you're so beautiful like this--

And honestly, Tim had to laugh, "I don't know why you think I am. I asked to keep a cat, Alfred said no, and that was that."

"But that..." Damian furrowed his brow. Tim's voice was taking on a different tenor than usual. Something a bit more strained. "He let me have a cat."

"Yeah," Tim said, cringing when his voice cracked on the word, before trying to play it off with a casual shrug, "you're his son."

And Damian was fooled for a moment. He had his mouth half open to reply that he was the blood son. He was different. Superior. 

But he paused upon the fact that Tim hadn't just made that point for him, he'd given him an example. 

The cat. 

Tim had wanted one and been refused. Damian had wanted one and had been obliged. 

He had wanted a dragon and been obliged. 

But Tim couldn't have a cat, and Damian, whenever he asserted his superiority, had thought he was lying. 

He was lying in a way. They were the same. Tim was a well-respected associate of his father, but... 

You're his son. 

But that didn't mean as much as Damian assumed it did. 

Damian assessed his options before doing something he usually avoided. He swallowed his pride, looked at Tim, and said, "I...don't fully understand what your place is here."

Faces of Death (2026)

However, he replied to said email within five minutes, asking a question that required an answer. So I answered and was like "Also, I was going to apologize for answering emails during this call, but I see we're both here at the Devil's Sacrament, so I don't think an apology is necessary."

I watched him read that on screen and try not to laugh. And then at the end of the call as everyone started saying goodbye, he goes, "Hey, MJ, I meant to tell you. I like your shoelaces."

And I looked straight into my camera, stone cold serious, and said, "Thanks. I stole them from the president."

And the rest of the team was like, "What...the fuck...?" before he abruptly ended the call for everyone.

they know how to use phones. they had rotary phones, cordless phones, beepers (pagers), flip phones, the first smartphones, and getting a new phone/using a smartphone is not confusing

they played video games across the entire history of video game existance. atari. nintendo nes. sega. playstation. video games are not confusing

they understand dating apps. they used the first dating websites/apps. (and if your character is a queer man in his 50s, he 100% knows what grindr is. even if he's straight, he probably knows.)

they use social media (but probably not snapchat). gen xers are all over insta and tiktok. social media is not confusing, but their algorithm is obv going to look different than a 20 yo influencer's. (even if they're not on sm, sm is not confusing as a concept, and they could make an acct without blinking)

they stream music, even if they still have cd or vinyl collections. this generation had 8-tracks (the oldest gen xers), vinyl, cassette tapes (mix tapes!) cds, napster, itunes downloads, the first music pirating, and using spotify is not confusing

me, an elder fandom veteran, suddenly having anne rice flashbacks:

no.

NO.

starting to rock back and fourth.

you do not understand.

you were born into an age of peace. i was there Gandalf. i was there three thousand years ago. i remember the cease and desists. i remember authors hunting fanfic writers for sport. i remember when every fic opened with a disclaimer because we genuinely thought it might protect us.

we do not charge money for the copyrighted gay wizard stories.

do not tempt fate youngling.

step away from the paywall.

that is how you summon the ancient evils.

a BentonCarter addition to the Beach Day art I posted a week ago, inspired by the scenario @club-medical & @hatchet-boy left in the tags (below the cut)

I also took some creative liberties with this, I really just wanted to make Carter even more of a lobster >:3c