#ex robins

[floyumei]

fave exes lol

(just 2 exes turned pseudo siblings rizzing everyone up)

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FINALLY. AFTER 2 WEEKS OF PROCRASTINATION LOL

[karmavongrim]

Ex-terminator fanfic idea

Had an idea from a prompt I remember reading where Danny goes “Oh shit, that’s my ex” and it was Danny Phantom x Ra’s al Ghul ship, then I was like “It’s stuck in my head so I guess I have to write something about it now.”

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“Umm… Would you repeat that”, Red Robin- otherwise known as Tim asks, utterly perplexed.

He had been put on monitoring duty at the Batcave due to his injured leg. He was prepared for a mind-numbingly boring night if it weren’t for the glowing man floating in front of him. A glowing stranger to be precise; a stranger who has managed to get inside one of the most well protected hideouts without tripping any alarms. He’s was seriously debating if this was a hallucination created by his sleep deprived brain.

The white haired man growls- like actually growls in frustration.

“Urgh! I want you guys to help me file a restraining order against one Ra’s Al Ghul. My very much obsessive crazy ex. I mean, I already have one sanctioned by the Council but that doesn’t seem to deter the man one bit and since you guys are suppose to be heroes or whatever, so I thought that you would be filling to help me out with this. Didn’t you guys have beef with him? Perfect time for some payback.”

Tim blinks, then rubs his eyes and looks again. Nope, the man is still here. He nods slowly and taps his communication device.

“B, you might want to come and see at this.”

The man or Phantom as he had introduced himself as earlier and Tim stare at each other for a bit before he can’t contain his curiosity.

“Soo… You and Ra’s”, he asks like this is all normal.

“One of many flings of my youth unfortunately”, Phantom admits with a cringe.

Tim can only nod.

“My condolences.”

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Bernard: i lied. i don’t like sex. put your clothes back on babe and watch my power point presentation about What The Fuck Is Going On Between Batman And Twoface

Tim: …

[malenjoyer]

People seemed to like this on other platforms so I’ll post it here too

[morganbritton132]

Robin, after dealing with an annoying person at work: Do you think we could kill him?

Steve: We can’t.

Steve: Nancy could though

Robin: Let’s call her

Keith:

Keith: I can hear you

Robin: Good.

[jade-e06]

the best exes ever!

this was genuinely so fun to draw, i absolutely love steph’s hair

they are THE gossip girls! the tea they spill to each other…

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

workaholic

a valentines weekend event fic!

tim drake x reader: giving your vigilante boyfriend a surprise under the desk in the batcave. now who’s distracting, hmph!

content level: 18+, NSFW

yeah, he’s a vigilante, or whatever, but he’s also your boyfriend. and he hasn’t acknowledged you in forty-five minutes. you’re not really sure how, considering you’re sharing a desk chair with him, on his lap, but his focus knows no bounds.

you’re down in the batcave with him, and it feels eerie, almost like you’re not supposed to be there, but tim said it was fine.

you wanted to see him, but he had a case to work, so he had you tag along to the cave. he’s still in his suit, but his mask’s long gone, hair disheveled. he brushed you off when you asked if he’d eaten, but that’s your boyfriend.

you’re at the biggest computer you’ve ever seen, a little mind boggled at the way tim’s playing with it like it’s a toy, even though you know it took years of mastering.

he keeps muttering to himself, scribbling in a notebook off to the side. you’re not even sure he’s able to read his own handwriting. you definitely struggle with deciphering it on birthday and anniversary cards.

“tim,��� you start, wondering if you could do something, like help (or just get a crumb of attention?)

“hm?” he replies, his eyes glued to a certain security video he’s been replaying, which you could recount beat for beat if asked, he’s looped it so many times.

“need any help?” you ask, playing with a strand of hair, twirling it around your fingers.

he glances at you, smiling but shaking his head.

“i got it, love. just be your pretty self.” he murmurs, patting your thigh.

you contain a sigh, nodding even though he’s not looking at you anymore.

you squirm a little in his lap, feeling a response. if tim was looking at you, he’d see the grin spreading across your face. you rub your ass against his crotch again, and even through the fabric of his super suit you can feel how eagerly he’s reacting to you.

“baby,” he warns, but there’s no real threat in his voice. you start your descent, scooting the chair back little by little using the toe of your shoe. you turn, sliding off of the chair and crouching under the desk.

he barely seems to register that you’re pulling down his pants, his underwear, until his cock’s exposed to the cool air of the cave. it’s semi hard, sending a thrill through your body that even if he wasn’t paying attention to you, his body was.

“i—what? babe, what are you doing?” you watch his thighs tense in time with the muscles of his lower stomach. you want to trace every individual ab muscle with your tongue.

you look up at him slowly, eyes opened wide as you paint the picture of innocence.

“what?” you reply, fighting back a smile.

“what do you mean, what?” tim says through grit teeth, his cock twitching as he grows harder, staring at your full lips.

he watches as you spit into your hand, slowly gliding your saliva up and down his cock. his eyes widen, eyebrows practically hidden in his hair.

“we’re gonna get caught,” he groans out, and you shrug, swiping your thumb across his tip.

“better be quiet then, huh, red robin?” you say, relishing in the way his eyes widen at his hero name.

you’re teasing him, maybe because you’re a little hurt and feeling a little mean, maybe because you like the way he’s got one hand gripping at the chair’s armrest, the other tight against his mouth as he fights down his moans.

he struggles not to buck his hips, pushing his cock farther into your mouth, struggles not to finish too early, feeling like he’s in last night’s wet dream.

but you bring him deeper, your cheeks hollowed as his tip hits the back of your throat. the hand that was covering his mouth flies to the chair’s other arm rest, and he moans out, his eyebrows furrowed.

“tim,” you say, pulling him out of your mouth. he gasps at the way the cold air of the cave feels on his wet cock, jerking in your hand.

“i’ll be quiet, i swear,” he groans, a blush spreading from his neck to his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

you know this is killing him, being at your mercy like this, but you’re having too much fun. you’ve got his full undivided attention now, anyways, and why do anything to change that?

you raise an eyebrow at him, doubtful, but smirk as you lower your head again. tapping his tip against your tongue, he whines, and you swirl your tongue around it, pursing your lips as you focus on it specifically.

he’s covering his eyes with his hand, his lips a thin straight line. you sit back again, fucking his cock with your fist. he drops his hand, eyes glued on the way he’s disappearing in your grip.

“shit,” he breathes out, the armrests of the chair creaking under his grip. he’s trying and failing at coming early, feeling like if he even exhales, it’s over.

you carefully lick a bead of pre off his tip, sucking him back into your mouth with an obscene slurping sound that has tim covering his mouth again. you can hear his groans anyways, his hand barely doing anything to muffle the sound.

your head bobs as you follow your hands down to his base and back up, sighing around his cock. you change it up, going fast, slow, pulling him to the brink as he curses under his breath before stopping completely, making him fall apart in your hands.

your other hand trails down to his balls, cradling them carefully with your fingers. the sensation makes his sack tense in your hands, and he gives up holding back his pleasure.

tim’s eyes roll back, closing, and you know you’ve got him.

“‘m gonna—,” he starts, the rest of his sentence turning into whimpering as hot cum shoots into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat.

you swallow the salty fluid, stroking tim even as he shudders. if you weren’t under the batcomputer, you’d keep going, overstimulate him through another round. but instead you stop, pressing a tender kiss to his tip. you tuck him back into his underwear, pulling his suit pants back up, and he settles you back onto his lap.

with a stupid smile on his flushed face, he kisses you. his lips warm as he swipes his tongue across your lip, nowhere to go but farther into each other as his hand presses against the back of your neck.

you eye the security camera on the opposite wall, and tim notices, grimacing.

“i can do something about that.” tim says, bringing up the security footage for the cave.

he quickly types in the date and time, swallowing as he watches the crystal clear video of you slide under the desk, whipping his cock out.

in the batcave.

he can’t believe it. he can’t believe how much he liked it. he wants nothing more than to get you out of here and under him in bed.

you can barely keep up his hands are moving so fast, replacing the damning evidence with earlier footage on a loop.

“why are you typing in your phone number?”

“don’t worry about it, hon,” he replies, his fingers flying as the clip whooshes off of the screen. “s’all taken care of.”

post divider courtesy of: @thecutestgrotto

[headcanonthings]

Tim: If a woman tells you you have “nice hands” she is doing everything in her power not to fuck you senseless. Please release her from her torment, her friends are receiving the kind of messages someone in prison would send.

Cass: I don’t think that’s true, Steph told me I have nice hands just yesterday.

Tim: Yeah, I’ll let you sit with that one for a while.

[elliemehl]

Valentine’s Day sketchbook session was omg 💕

sketchlog 2 - my Rooks with their special ones, this was a fun excercise because I drew simple mannequins out of poses I found on p!nterest and then sketched these on top.

[starry-eyed-steve]

It seems like they are going to explore Hopper's ptsd after escaping Russia, which is great. I love that for him. However, I can't say I'm not bitter that they tortured 18 year old Steve and 17 year old Robin in s3 and never mentioned it again. I see who the favorites are.

[steddieas-shegoes]

sold out, one night only

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event for Black Friday using 'one day night only'

rated m | 2980 words | cw: implied and referenced sexual content | tags: modern era, pop star steve, rock star eddie, semi-famous corroded coffin, exes to lovers, getting back together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

The poster is huge, takes up most of the board in the club announcing new events. It’s surprisingly simple for something so large.

‘One Night Only’ accompanied by a picture of Steve Harrington, recently out queer pop icon, and a date and time.

Tonight is the one night only.

Eddie stares at it, kind of wishes he didn’t feel like sobbing, and then books it out of the club.

If he’s gonna make it across town before Steve’s show is done, he’s gotta hope for the least amount of traffic he’s ever seen and a lot of luck. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, the show was delayed enough that he’s still on stage singing.

He manages to find an Uber only a block away, offers them a 50% tip if they can get him to the arena in less than five minutes, and leans his head back against the seat.

~~~~

Four years ago, when Steve followed Eddie and his band to Chicago, neither of them expected much to happen. Corroded Coffin was small town good, but they quickly found that they weren’t quite what record labels were looking for.

A small indie label from San Francisco was interested, though.

So they packed up and moved to California, and to celebrate the first recording session, they went to a karaoke bar and all took turns singing songs that you’d never expect them to.

Steve took a turn singing a Harry Styles song and it was game over.

The whole bar went silent until he was done, and then it was pandemonium as people rushed him as he got off the stage, telling him he should be famous, and that he had the voice of an angel, and that he should try to sign a record deal.

And Eddie knew he could sing; he’d heard him in the shower and the car plenty.

There was just something about seeing him on stage and knowing that Steve was meant for more that really cut into his heart and made him bleed out on that bar floor.

It was the beginning of the end for them that night.

Eddie pushed him away. Steve stopped fighting it.

Steve signed with a huge company out of New York and moved before Eddie even realized he ruined everything.

He hasn’t spoken to him since, not even the one time Dustin had to have surgery and requested everyone be back in Hawkins in case something went wrong. He was being dramatic about leg splints, but they did it anyway.

Eddie caught one glimpse of Steve walking out of the Henderson home the night that Dustin got to leave the hospital, but he didn’t stop him.

Corroded Coffin is big enough to do festival circuits, even playing on the main stage for some of them.

Steve Harrington is big enough to go to Grammy parties and duet with Sabrina Carpenter.

And Eddie is stupid enough to think he can get backstage to apologize to him for being dumb enough to let him walk away.

~~~~

When he arrives at the arena, he’s told he needs a ticket to enter. This is a fact he knew before getting here, but one he chose to ignore in hopes that he might be able to bribe someone with his romantic story.

Unfortunately, the middle aged man who reminds him a lot of Wayne couldn’t care less about his need to tell Steve he loves him.

“You and the 20,000 others in the audience, bud,” the man says. “No ticket, no entrance.”

“Okay, I know you probably hear this often, but I swear he knows me. He’d let me in,” Eddie explains, but the guy is somehow even less impressed. “Oh! Wait. I have proof.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and opens his photos. The album named ‘Stevie ♥️’ is still in his favorites, even though Robin made him promise he’d delete it after the last time she visited. He may have promised he would, but he never said when.

It’s hundreds of photos of them together, mostly selfies, personal pictures they took on dates or in bed or on their road trip or-

“I told you to delete those.”

Eddie spins around at Robin’s voice. She’s standing near the set of doors at the end of the long line of doors, two security guards flanking her.

“And I will. Eventually.” Eddie walks towards her, ignoring the man telling him he needs to leave.

“What are you doing here?” She asks even though she has to know.

She’s his friend even though she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate. She isn’t being mean on purpose. She’s just being protective of both of them.

“Robin…” he starts.

She holds up a hand. “If I take you backstage, will this be a one night only thing or a start to forever thing? Because honestly, I don’t think he can take seeing you if it’s only for you to leave right after. He’s barely-” She cuts herself off, eyes widening.

“He’s what?” Eddie pushes, needing to know what she was gonna say.

She sighs. He knew he’d get her to give in easily.

“He’s barely holding it together as it is,” she admits. “I had to bribe him to get on stage tonight.”

“Bribe him? For this show?”

“And the last dozen or so. He’s tired. He-” She sighs again, heavier. “He misses you.”

“If he misses me, then he should call. Or text. Send a carrier pigeon.” Eddie doesn’t mean for the words to bite, but he can’t help the way he feels and he knows he’s safe with Robin. She won’t take it personally or let him stew in it for too long. “It’s not like he doesn’t have access to me if he really wants it.”

“Eddie. You made it very clear you didn’t want to hear from him ever again.”

“I made it very clear that I loved him too much to hold him back. He was the one who pushed it to this,” Eddie tries.

He doesn’t succeed. Robin is shaking her head, laughing with disbelief.

“You two are made for each other. I’ll bring you backstage, but if I see a single tear shed in anything other than happiness, I’m calling Jeff and telling on you.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. Calling Jeff isn’t quite the threat it used to be, not since Jeff got himself a very serious girlfriend who keeps him busy. Even if it was, Robin knows Jeff’s just gonna nod along, give Eddie a sad look, and move on.

He follows Robin through the door she came through, waving at the guard who was giving him a hard time– “he’s just doing his job, Eddie” – and feels his throat catch on his next breath when he can hear the beat of the music.

Steve’s pop rock sound isn’t necessarily Eddie’s favorite type of music, but he did stay up until midnight for the release of his debut album. It’s Steve. What’s he gonna do? Not listen to it?

His voice is just this side of raspy, like there’s a scratch of his throat when he hits the lower register his voice will allow. He almost sounds like when Eddie would-

“Alright. He’s got two songs left and an encore. Encore is usually just one song, but this is a special night so he may do a bonus from his new album. Don’t touch anything,” Robin sends him into the green room, waving off the security person who is standing at the door. “Don’t make me regret letting you in here. And don’t hurt yourself.”

“Jesus, Robbie, I’m not a child. I’m not gonna hurt myself-”

“I didn’t mean physically.” She gives him a sad look. “I care about you, too.”

Eddie’s shoulders fall as he breathes out. He didn’t realize how tense he’d been. Robin hugs him and moves to the door.

“I’ll make sure you guys have some privacy for a bit, but we do have a tight schedule. Security’s only here while the crew packs up,” she explains. Eddie nods. He knows the drill. He may not be an international pop star, but he deals with the ins and outs of venues often enough.

Robin leaves and the only sound is the bass thumping of Steve’s last song. Eddie looks around at how bare the room is. Usually, Corroded Coffin has to share a green room with a few other bands unless they pull off headlining the main stage. Those rooms are usually cluttered, crews and musicians constantly coming and going, leaving trash and guitar picks behind. The only thing in this room that would hint at Steve using it is a bag of half-eaten white cheddar popcorn on the table next to an empty water bottle and a mug of what looks like green tea.

Steve’s a big enough star to make absurd requests for backstage, but it’s clear he doesn’t. Eddie isn’t surprised. Steve’s never really been one to ask for things that would benefit him.

He hears the screaming, knows Steve’s just left the stage. He’s probably standing nearby, hiding behind curtains or stacks of speakers, maybe even in plain sight.

“Wait!” Robin’s voice is right outside the door.

The door opens.

Steve’s there, breathless, sweaty, hot as hell.

“Steve, you still have a song,” another woman in khakis and a polo shirt is rushing up to him, waving a clipboard in his face.

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice is rough when he speaks. Eddie can tell it’s more from emotion than the nearly two hour set list he just performed.

“Steve.” Eddie is waiting for Steve to move, for anyone to move. He can���t.

“Steve, you need to go back onstage.”

Eddie has his arms full of Steve before anyone can respond to the woman just trying to do her job. She looks like she’s a tech manager, but usually they wear all black, and Eddie doesn’t know all there is to know about an international superstar performing a concert even though he does know all there is to know about Steve.

He knows that he prefers earl gray tea with real sugar, not the green tea with honey that’s sitting on the coffee table. He knows that his favorite treats are the mini Kit Kats– “not the regular ones, they taste different, I swear!”-- not popcorn that gets stuck in his teeth for hours. He knows that he likes making places feel like home no matter how temporary he’s there, and there’s not a single item in this room that makes it feel lived in.

The woman seems to give up on getting Steve back on stage, and he’s pretty sure he has Robin to thank for it.

He has Steve in his arms for the first time in way too long. He isn’t wasting a second of it thinking about anyone else.

Steve’s sweat is soaking through Eddie’s shirt already, but he doesn’t really care. He used to love having Steve’s sweat on him; It meant he was doing something right.

He knows a reunion isn’t this easy, and any second now, Steve’s gonna pull away and yell at him, and they’ll fight and Eddie will let it happen because he deserves it and-

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Steve sobs against his neck, breath tickling his skin as his lips brush against him in an almost-kiss.

Suddenly, Eddie knows that Steve planned this. This whole sold out, one night only show was only so Eddie would come see him.

Eddie should be pissed.

Steve could have just fucking called him. Texted him. Sent a carrier pigeon!

But he’s got Steve in his arms and it’s always been pretty hard to be pissed at him when he’s pressed perfectly against his chest.

Robin is clearing the room and cursing Steve for making her clean up his messes, but Eddie can hear the fondness in her voice. She wouldn’t bother giving them time alone together if she didn’t want them to have it.

“Robin said I shouldn’t do it. She said you wouldn’t show.” Tears are falling from Steve’s eyes on Eddie's shirt. “I swore you would. She thought I was crazy.”

“You are crazy,” Eddie laughs, squeezing his arms to pull him in tighter. “Planning something this big in the hopes that I’d come to a pop concert is fucking insane, Stevie.”

“But you did.” Steve leans back and looks at him, watery smile enough to make Eddie feel like he could melt into the floor. “I knew you would.”

Eddie wants to kiss him, wants to ignore everything that went wrong and everything they need to talk about, wants to take Steve apart in this room and make it feel like home because Steve didn’t do that on his own. He doesn’t think he’s made any place feel like home in a long time.

“You put a lot of faith in a guy who let you go,” Eddie whispers.

“You showed up for a guy who left,” Steve says back.

“You only left because I pushed you away,” Eddie argues.

“You only pushed me away because you thought it was best for me,” Steve raises a brow, challenging him to keep going.

Eddie knows Steve has a response for everything, though. He’ll keep putting blame on himself the same way Eddie keeps putting it on himself, and they’ll go round and round and waste precious time that they could be doing other things. Instead of pushing, Eddie sighs and lets his shoulders drop.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead of arguing.

“I’m sorry, too,” Steve relaxes in his arms.

“We still have to talk, Stevie,” Eddie reminds him as he leans in, feels Steve’s breath against his lips.

“We will,” Steve barely gets out before their lips crash together, bruising and needy.

There’s a lot that Eddie missed about Steve. He’s spent countless hours harping over everything he messed up to himself, to Robin, to Wayne, to the band. Steve was forever going to be the one that got away.

“Can we…” Steve gasps against his mouth, hands grasping at every inch of Eddie that they can.

“What do you need?” Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrists to still him, to make him focus on what he wants.

“Just need you.”

It’s a cop out and they both know it, but Eddie’s fine with it tonight. If he has to be the one to take charge and assume what Steve wants, then he will. For tonight, he can give Steve what he wants to, and Steve will take it.

It’s a little anticlimactic when they come barely five minutes later. They don’t even get a chance to properly remove any clothing before they’re making a mess between them, moaning as if they can’t be heard.

As they come down, and Eddie manages to find a rag that may or may not have been used for other things already, Eddie sees Steve wipe his eyes.

He stops what he’s doing and drops the rag on the floor, pulling Steve close again.

“What’s wrong?” He asks because he can’t let Steve leave him again. Not this time.

“I just don’t want this to be one night only,” Steve cries.

“It won’t be, sweetheart,” Eddie assures him, brushing the fresh tears away as they fall. “We’re gonna figure out how to make it work. The band doesn’t have anything for the next few weeks, so we’ve got time, okay?”

“But I have to leave tomorrow. I have a GQ interview in London,” Steve pouts.

Eddie tries not to be distracted by his bitten-red lips, but they’re just so…biteable.

“I could go to London,” Eddie offers, only slightly joking.

Steve’s eyes light up. “You can?”

“I mean, I can definitely blow some of my savings to follow you around for a bit,” Eddie shrugs.

“As if I’d let you pay.” Steve’s beaming at him. “You really wanna come with me? Even though people will start spreading rumors and it’ll ruin your metal band image?”

“Baby, I’ll stand on that stage right now and scream to everyone who will listen that I’m yours.”

There’s still time to do that, too. Even though it can’t have been more than 20 minutes since Steve left the stage, he has no doubt that there are plenty of stragglers in the arena hoping for Steve to still come out and perform his encore.

“Some fans are kind of-”

“Crazy?” Steve nods. “That’s because you’re perfect. But they can’t have you, right? Not like I can.”

“No. Nobody gets to have me like you do.”

If Robin wasn’t banging on the door to warn them they only had five minutes, Eddie would be trying for another round. Maybe this time, he’d get his mouth on Steve instead of just his hand.

“I guess we should get to the car before fans figure out I’m still here,” Steve suggests. “And before Robin kills us both.”

“Imagine that news story,” Eddie laughs. “Best friend and manager of pop icon Steve Harrington charged with double homicide after seeing more dicks than she’s ever seen in her life.”

“Bold of you to assume she hasn’t seen mine,” Steve laughs as he pulls away. When he sees Eddie’s shocked face, he pats his cheek. “I sleep naked, babe. You knew that.”

Eddie’s face goes back to normal quickly. “Still? I thought that was just so I would-”

“I’m coming in!” Robin shouts as she opens the door. Steve turns away to finish buttoning his pants, but Eddie’s soft dick is right out in the open.

“Seriously?” Robin groans.

Eddie finishes making himself presentable and smirks. “You’ve seen what he’s got. You can’t blame me.”

“I can and I will. Car’s already surrounded, so. Hope you’re good with a hard launch.”

Eddie looks at Steve to check in. Steve gives him a nod.

“Blast off, I guess.”

[limeade-l3sbian]

"Poor Mike Tyson. He was just there to have fun-" I'm glad that that degenerate, wife beating, rapist old fuck got knocked around by a pretentious YouTuber and I hope he's physically worse off after doing the fight.

[chikenbrain]

Alright, so Batman’s rule is ‘no killing’ but let’s say that after Jason’s death, he takes that rule to an extreme, and the breaking point is the Joker.

He probably said something like, ‘there are things worse than death,’ right before leaving him in a vegetative state with phantom pain for the rest of his life. Technically, he didn’t cross the line, and while he doesn’t feel good about what he did… he doesn’t feel bad either.

Neither Alfred nor Dick judge him. They don’t even bring it up, probably hoping he’ll pull himself back from the edge or something. But Bruce promises himself it won’t happen again. This was a one-time thing. Just for his son. And it’ll be the last time revenge blinds him.

Even so, he’s way more violent during arrests than usual. Tim Drake steps in, trying to talk Dick into helping him stop Bruce, but Dick… well, he agrees with Bruce, even if he won’t admit it out loud. He’s hurt too.

Tim does everything he can to pull Bruce back from this path, and eventually, he puts on the Robin suit himself. Bruce is not happy. His first instinct when he saw Tim was anger—yelling about ‘everything he doesn’t understand and shouldn’t get involved in’ but the rage didn’t last long. It melted away when he really looked at him—standing there, worried and small, like a little wounded bird.

He was smaller than Dick had been when Bruce took him in, but bigger than Jason. Still, Tim was definitely small… and brave.

‘Robin gives people hope. That’s his role in Gotham’s war on crime.’

Robin brings hope to those who need it, even when the situation is so dark it feels like the light has been swallowed whole. Even when there are people who don’t deserve it. Even when that person is him.

Bruce couldn’t help himself. He hugged Tim, wrapping him in his cape like he’d done with his other Robins. Tim froze—physical contact wasn’t something he was used to. It felt out of place.

The best way to describe it was: uncomfortable. But that feeling didn’t last long. Soon, the warmth started seeping in, and it felt more like being a little kid wrapped in a bear hug.

Neither of them remembers how long Bruce stayed there, hugging the kid, murmuring over and over that it was going to be okay, while attempting to rub his back.

[lukazade]

These kids are NOT studying rn

[heybiji]

how nice it is to meet people as oneself.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

your boyfriend, tim drake’s instagram

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want any other characters...just let me know :)

hurry, while asks are still open!