Coconut Jelly

mid-30's | femme | queer | polyam | adult professional but not on tumblr | pfp by @plagueislost

[coconutjelly]

Think Pink AU and ramblings thereabout:

accidental voyeurism via superhearing - complete crisis - complete put a ring on it - in progress Think Pink AU on AO3 voyeurism via superhearing (PODFIC) by @opalsong - complete

WIPs (ongoing)

Vessel!Bernard and Confused!Kon Link to all parts | chrono link Superblond Omegaverse non-chrono | chrono sleepy cockwarming non-chrono | chrono

[poetrylesbian]

obviously dietary requirements aren't a joke but my grandma sometimes runs errands for her church and i asked her what she's up to today and she said extremely seriously "ive got to track down the body of the gluten free christ, julia"

[ritavonbees]

this totally scans for a swear intensifier btw. what in the gluten free christ is going on here, Julia

[gatesofminrathous]

there will never be anything as funny as the mutual disbelief between long form and short form fic writers about each other's style.

short form writers look at people writing 100k+ fics as though this is some sort of talent given as part of a fae bargain, that the commitment required shows some sort of ungodly mental fortitude.

meanwhile long form writers look at people writing 1000 word one shots like god I would cut off my left nipple to be able to say anything concisely. i would love to play with multiple ideas. free me from the shackles of this child I have birthed. i love them but I now must take them to t-ball and doctor's appointments and they're going to destroy everything I own.

[ao3commentoftheday]

[coconutjelly]

YOU WERE BORN IN THE 80ssssss???????????????

Yep, early '89

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for Ezra behind the cut, who gave me dealer's choice but mentioned being fond of Bernard and Kon, and is getting "Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it". You are all SHOCKED by the direction I went with that mention, I am sure, lol. content notes: Dom/sub, pet play, subspace. (( chrono || non-chrono || AO3 ))

"Fuck, you're cute," Bernard mutters as he squeezes his ass again, and Kon's cock throbs. "Seriously, Tim, why is your boy this cute?"

"Because I like him that way," Tim replies reasonably, like it's just the natural thing to say; like it's just the natural answer to give. Kon feels his face turn red and ducks his head to hide it against Bernard's shoulder, one of his hands fisting in the back of the other's robe and the other stuck locked in place on the sink.

Just—Tim just saying that like that . . . like it's just . . . like the way he acts is about what Tim would think of the way he acts; like Tim thinks he'd try to act . . . to act—"cute" for him, or . . .

Like it's just—like it's reasonable, that Kon would be trying to do that.

Which, well . . .

Well, it is, like . . . "reasonable", that he'd be trying to do that. Because he would be trying to do that, if he actually knew how to. So he thinks—he thinks, does that mean Tim knows he'd be doing that, if he knew how?

Does that mean . . . ?

"Oh, so you just trained him up for maximum cuteness?" Bernard jokes, and Kon tightens his grip on his robe and shivers. Bernard tugs his thigh up a little higher against his own hip and Kon wants his dick in him so fucking bad.

He doesn't know how to act fucking—cute, or whatever, or whatever Tim would think counted as "cute". But Tim could . . . Tim could just . . . if Tim wanted him to act like that, he could just . . .

He could—Tim could . . . "train him up", if he . . .

The shower curtain's still shut, and Tim isn't even watching them from behind it. Hell, Tim isn't even doing anything behind it. Kon can feel him just standing there under the spray—standing there naked under the spray, which is really hard for him not to feel, actually—and apparently just sorting through the weird amount of shampoo and body wash bottles he started collecting a while back. Kon's teased him about it a few times, and Tim says Robin needs to not smell like Tim Drake, which is kind of a crazy-person thing to think about, much less actually do, and also doesn't explain the sugar scrubs or the three different loofahs or—

Oh, Kon realizes, because his nose is right in the crook of Bernard's neck, and he can smell . . .

Like—yeah, obviously Bernard smells like Tim's bath stuff right now, because obviously Bernard just showered with Tim's bath stuff, but . . . Kon wonders, kinda, if Tim actually started collecting all the extra products and whatever either because they're all stuff Bernard usually uses, or just all stuff Bernard likes. Like . . . he doesn't know, maybe the way they lather, or how they make Tim's hair and skin smell, or how they make Tim's hair and skin feel, or . . .

Kon buries his face in a little tighter against Bernard's neck and thinks about Bernard doing Tim's laundry like it was something he did all the time.

Thinks about Bernard doing—his laundry, technically, and feels . . . and feels . . .

If they give him a "bath"—if he uses Tim's bath stuff—will Bernard like how it smells on him? Will Tim like how it smells on him? Like he—like it's actually—like it was up to Tim when he took a shower and what soap and shampoo and whatever he used for it. Just—same as it's been up to Tim when and what he's eaten and whether or not he puts his clothes back on this weekend and if he gets to suck his cock or get kissed.

Because all that is up to Tim right now.

So it's up to Tim how Kon's gonna smell after he takes his shower and if Bernard will like it and if he's gonna smell like Tim or—

Or if—or if Tim will let him smell like Robin.

"Mm, didn't really need to," Tim replies with a dismissive little shrug. Kon can feel him rearranging the last few shampoo bottles in the shower and can't stop obsessing about which might be Tim's and which might be Robin's. "No reason to waste time training him how to be something he already is when we can spend it on something new, right?"

Kon completely forgets about the stupid shampoo and his entire nervous system lights up like it's on fucking fire.

"What, you wanna teach me some new tricks, Rob?" he tries to joke, feeling overheated and weird and just trying to, like—catch his breath about it, a little. Or maybe more like catch his balance about it. Like, just while he—just while they're—

"Just the usual," Tim says. "You know, field signs, combat strats. How to be patient and wait for me. Since Bernard beat me to the cocksucking tips and all."

Kon's nervous system spikes up a few hundred degrees hotter, and his face flushes red. That—that's really—

"And how to be sweeter with yourself, too," Tim adds.

"Red" is not a strong enough word to describe the color that Kon can fucking feel his face turning.

"Tim," he says into Bernard's shoulder, because that's all he really can say, and tightens his grip on the other's robe and the bathroom sink again. It comes out pleading and quiet, and he feels . . . he feels like . . .

"Something you want, pet?" Tim asks, and that's all Kon feels. Just—he feels like Tim's pet. Tim's boy, Tim's Superboy, Tim's—just Tim's.

Nothing but Tim's.

"Dunno," he manages to rasp out against Bernard's shoulder as he rocks down—ruts down, more like—more urgently against the other's thigh, because Tim asking him something like that just makes it too damn hard not to. "I—I don't—dunno what I want."

"You don't?" Tim asks, and Kon feels him tilt his one to one side. "Why not, pet?"

The answer to that question's really . . . really obvious, Kon thinks. Though the fact that he's currently grinding against Bernard while Bernard isn't really doing anything but kinda holding on to him makes it feel . . . makes saying it feel . . .

"'Cuz—'cuz you haven't—you haven't t-told me," he stammers, burying his face in tighter against Bernard's shoulder and fisting both hands in the back of the same silky, satiny robe he's currently grinding his dick against.

"Fucking hell," Bernard mutters very feelingly, tightening his grip on him in return. "How do you even do that that quick, babe?"

"Practice," Tim replies matter-of-factly. Bernard groans through his teeth, and Kon shudders. Just—"practice".

Fuck, what a fucking answer.

"Rob," he mumbles roughly, tightening his grip on Bernard's robe again; grinding his dick in tighter again. He wonders if it's actually Tim's. He wonders if it's Bernard's, and the guy just keeps it here.

He wonders which one of them did the laundry the last time it needed washed.

"You need me to tell you something?" Tim says, and Kon's face burns, because he literally just told him that, so . . . so Tim just wants him to really say it, then. Like . . . that's what that means, right?

"Yeah," he croaks. "I—I need you to tell me—tell me what I want."

"Fucking hell," Bernard mutters even more feelingly, gripping his ass with one hand and cupping the back of his head with the other. Kon squeezes his eyes shut and remembers—remembers pinning Bernard flat to the bed and getting him off with his TTK. Remembers how Bernard had made those little noises into his shoulder like it was—like it was someplace safe for them, like . . . like he . . .

He'd cupped the back of Bernard's head too, he remembers. He doesn't . . . he doesn't know if Bernard remembers that, or . . .

He's been making little noises into Bernard's shoulder, though. He's been . . . been . . .

"You want to be my good boy," Tim replies, mild and easy, and Kon feels every splinter and nail and speck of dust in the entire fucking boat.

Feels all that, and feels all that before Tim decides to just keep talking.

"You want to behave for me, and you want me happy," Tim continues lightly as he starts shampooing his hair. Kon's whole gut throbs with heat. "You want to do every single damn thing I tell you to, and you want Bernard to like you."

Bernard makes a weird little strangled noise, for some reason, and tightens his grip on Kon. Kon's a little too busy muffling a moan in his shoulder and riding his thigh to actually figure out what the "some reason" is, though. The silky-satin drag of sleek fabric over soft muscle and against his aching dick is fucking overwhelming and suddenly the only thing he can think about, especially with Tim talking about—

"You also want to hump his thigh 'til you come all over that nice silky robe he's wearing and we both tell you how good you are for it," Tim says, because apparently Tim just has a whole-ass list of shit for him to want right off the top of his head, and Kon chokes, and—"And you want me to put your jacket back on after I get out of the shower."

"Robin," Kon whines, his body jerking. Probably the only reason he doesn't break the sink behind him is because his TTK's wrapped around it, and probably the only reason he doesn't knock Bernard over is because his TTK's wrapped around him. And then he realizes—

Tim ditched all of his clothes on the floor when he got undressed, come-stained shirt and all. They're all crumpled into a scattered, tangled pile, kicked off into an already-damp corner next to a slim plastic laundry basket that Kon can feel the tangled pile of Bernard's own abandoned clothes inside, along with a few other scattered pieces of dirty laundry. None it's really been treated with any particular care, because it's, like—it's just fucking laundry, so why would any of it be? It's just dirty clothes, and only really something to care about because it's proof of Tim and Bernard finally getting undressed too, even if they haven't actually let him, like—see them yet, really.

So . . . so it's all just crumpled and scattered and tangled, and all left in the basket or on the floor. There's nothing weird or even notable about that, because what the hell else would they do with any of it? Like—seriously, what?

But . . .

But his jacket is hanging neatly on the back of the bathroom door.

Kon gets a very sudden and very weird head rush as his knees go a little weak, and swallows roughly. His jacket's the only piece of his clothing that he knows the location of right now. His suit and boots and belts and gloves and thigh bag are all who even fucking knows where. And like—it doesn't actually matter where any of them are, because Tim's already told him he's not getting any of them back 'til Monday anyway.

But his jacket—that location suddenly really, really matters. Which—Tim's not gonna let him wear that either, obviously. Tim's not gonna let him wear anything at all.

But with his jacket . . . with his jacket—his jacket that Tim hung up all nice and neat on the back of the bathroom door before dumping the rest of his clothes on the wet bathroom floor—maybe that's just gonna be because Tim's gonna be wearing it.

Fuck, Kon thinks, and his knees nearly give out.

"Gods damn," Bernard groans, pressing his thigh up tighter against his still-aching dick. It feels so good, and also doesn't feel like enough at all. Kon wants more. Needs more.

Tim just hums, light and mild.

"Kon?" he inquires, just as light and mild as before.

"Please," Kon begs, curling his fingers in the back of Bernard's robe and trying so fucking hard not to rut down too hard against the other's thigh—not to bruise the other's thigh, because it'd be way too fucking easy to do that right now. "Pleasepleaseplease, lemme—please lemme—"

"Hmmm," Tim says. Kon can feel him dragging his fingers through his soaped-up hair and massaging shampoo into his scalp, and has the incredibly weird experience of being jealous of Tim for, like . . . getting to get his hair washed by himself, basically? Which is definitely not a normal-person thought to think, but . . . "'Let' you what, sunshine?"

Kon immediately can't think of anything else but what Tim did to him after the last time he called him that.

"Rob," he croaks again, voice shaky and cracking, and fumbles his way through grinding down faster and clumsier against Bernard's thigh as he buries another whimper in the other's shoulder; as Bernard curls his fingers in the back of his hair and they both press in as close as they can get to each other. The robe's slipped off the shoulder Kon doesn't have his face buried in, and Bernard's chest is half-exposed and keeps brushing against his, and it's so much skin compared to what he's gotten from either of them so far, because he's still the only one who's gotten naked through all this outside of the damn shower, and getting it now is . . . the contrast between warm skin and silky fabric and being close enough to a heartbeat that complements Tim's heartbeat just right is . . . is . . .

Fuck, Kon doesn't even know what it is, but something about all that is doing something to him.

"Tell me, pet," Tim says, and it's just . . . it's not even an order, really. It's just a—it's just—it's just what's going to happen.

Just a fact.

"Well great, cool, cool cool cool for me, 'cuz I already know I am not gonna survive him telling you that, babe," Bernard mutters under his breath even as he nuzzles into Kon's hair—nuzzles gently into Kon's hair. Kon buries another whiny little whimpering sound in his shoulder, because—because Tim trusts Bernard, because Tim trusts Bernard with him, so—so it's safe to do that.

And Bernard's been . . . been so nice, so . . . so maybe that's why it's safe to too.

The guy really, really doesn't need to be this nice to him.

"Tim," Kon whines, his hips stuttering, and Bernard's nails curl against his scalp and his fingers dig into his ass again. Kon might be obsessing a little bit over how bad he wants those fingers in him right now. Or that cock, in an ideal world.

But first—first he knows there's a fact that has to happen, because Tim said it was gonna.

"Lemme be good," Kon begs into Bernard's silky-satin shoulder, his whole spine feeling like it's plugged into a damn power plant, and Bernard huffs out a rough breath against his hair and digs his nails and fingers into him, and—and it's so—and it's so—""Tim, Tim, lemme be good for you, lemme be—b-be cute for you, lemme learn a new trick, lemme do whatever'll make your boyfriend like me—"

"Hell," Bernard groans, and there is literally no way a baseline human civilian could ever pin Kon against anything without fucking up his powers first, but Bernard just—just does it, and Kon would literally rather swallow green kryptonite than resist that pin at all. "Tim, I swear to fuck, if you say a single word right now—"

"You really want me to leave my boy hanging, babe?" Tim "asks" mildly, and Bernard curses.

"Good, lemme be good, lemme be so good, I'll do anything, anything he'll like me for, just let me—" Kon begs, winding his arms around Bernard a lot tighter than he probably should, but it's fine, because he's already wrapped his TTK around and through him—because Tim's not telling him he can't, because Tim's not telling him not to, because—

"FUCK," Bernard chokes, fumbling up closer against him and grabbing the side of the sink too as he leans his weight into him—trusts him with his weight—and Kon buries a whimper in the guy's shoulder and hooks a leg across the back of his thighs, and Tim's not watching, not even looking, but—but—

[odyver]

alright I've got to do some quick math to explain attitudes towards AI to my boss.

we're looking to create an AI policy, and when we were talking about this, my boss (older millennial) was genuinely shocked to hear that younger people do not (seem) to view AI positively (a la the recent commencement speakers being booed)

please rb for larger sample size!

Question 1/3

What is your age, and do you feel AI is a net positive or net negative in our lives today?

under 18, AI is a net positive

under 18, AI is a net negative

18-29, AI is a net positive

18-29, AI is a net negative

30-45, AI is a net positive

30-45, AI is a net negative

46-60, AI is a net positive

46-60, AI is a net negative

over 60, AI is a net postive

over 60, AI is a net negative

Remaining time: 3 days 6 hours

[odyver]

Question 2/3

How often do you visit or interact with museums/archives (whether in person or online)?

Frequently (multiple times per month)

Often (multiple times per year)

Occasionally (a couple times per year)

Rarely (once every couple of years)

Never :(

Remaining time: 3 days 6 hours

[odyver]

Question 3/3

If you saw a museum was using AI in exhibits, marketing, research, etc., would you be more or less inclined to visit that museum?

under 18, more inclined

under 18, less inclined

18-29, more inclined

18-29, less inclined

30-45, more inclined

30-45, less inclined

46-60, more inclined

46-60, less inclined

over 60, more inclined

over 60, less inclined

Remaining time: 3 days 6 hours

Thank you for helping with this data collection. Please rb for as big a sample as possible!

🫶

[robinskies]

the most humbling message I have ever received.

[coconutjelly]

as someone who was present for ~300 days of the 80's, I just felt myself crumble into dust

[superblond-bingo]

Welcome to Superblond Bingo!

This is an attempt at organizing a celebration around the superblond pairing (Kon El/Bernard Dowd).

The superblond fandom may only be seventeen-ish strong, but we deserve to be fed, too!

what are we even talking about, here?

@cactus-k0ala and @coconutjelly wanted to address the criminal deficit of superblond content with a low-stakes bingo challenge to encourage new superblond content out here in these desolate wastes.

There are four mini bingo cards, each with a 3x3 of prompts. Pick up any that speak to you, and complete as many prompts you want. It only takes 3 works for a bingo, or 9 if you're a completionist and want to fill every prompt on a card! We wanted there to be space for someone who only has time for a handful of fanworks, as well as breadth for those who might want to really cut loose on a summer fandom run!

"challenge" is a loose concept

Participation is intentionally flexible, because the only real goal is to give ourselves more superblond to scream about online be super chill and normal about.

No sign-up process or moderation - just make things and share it! The challenge runners do not have time or interest in cherry-picking who gets to scream into the void. The void for this pairing is big enough for everyone to scream.

Create whatever inspires you from a prompt - fanfic, notfics, drabbles, scribbles, full renders concept art, podfic, playlists, comic panels, moodboards, video montages - all are welcome!

Any rating, any AU, any medium (just make sure it can be shared via tumblr/AO3!), any themes, any side characters. Yes, that includes timberkon, just aim for a superblond focus!

Share it on tumblr and use the tag #superblond bingo. Submit it to this blog. Add it to the AO3 collection. Tell your cashier at the grocery store. Telepathically stream it to the collective superblond consciousness. Whatever method you use, just make sure people know you made something for this lovely pair of blorbos.

[coconutjelly]

so... 👉🏻👈🏻 @cactus-k0ala and I are doin a thing

it'd be real neat if some of y'all wanted to join us

@plagueislost @tigerlilyandcherryblossom @bestrobinevr @maybe-ee @opalsong @suzukiblu @candy8448 @skylernightmare @jujutherubberduckie @fractalflowersao3 @aestknowsbest @akaanmo

tag anyone else i'm missing!!!

[ilfascinodelvago]

[voluptama]

butt types

© Viktor Hertz

[lynati]

[memento-mariii]

[emeraldcas]

don't listen to them babe just keep opening more tabs in your browser

[emersonwatts]

At least the guy in front of him—who was making out with another dude and getting his waist and thighs felt up, among other things—had a nice ass. A really nice ass.  A sick feeling arrived in Tim’s stomach, and almost without meaning to he reached out and tapped the guy in front of him on the shoulder.  It took a moment for the guy to remove himself from his partner and then Kon turned around.  And it was Kon—there was truly no one else that it could be. Tim knew every inch of him, and always would, no matter where they were in their lives. The fact of the matter was that Tim had never expected to find him at a gay club in Gotham.  Let alone at a gay club in Gotham making out with another man.

LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85972726/chapters/227290736

[animentality]

[azenorie]

hello timkon people ... today i offer you this idea

[liberalsarecool]

Billionaires lie. All the time.

[coconutjelly]

Every time I hear that argument, all I can say is, "where are they going? cool, let's tax them there, too."

[ronmontana]

Ohmmm wip d Kon!!!

[qillermeme]

[nextstopparis]

NOOO GAY PEOPLE STOP EXISTING AGAIN TOMORROW

[nextstopparis]

well. see you all nxt yr ig😔

[nextstopparis]

GAY PEOPLE ARE YOU READY TO EXIST AGAIN!!!!!

[coconutjelly]