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miss-choco-chips · 4 years ago

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F’coffee

-.-.-.-.-.-

Honestly. What did Bruce even think would happen? He should have known better.

Tim wasn’t Dick, indoctrinated from a young age to be a good, somewhat (when convenient) obedient son. Tim only went along with Bruce’s shit because, more often than not, it aligned with what he himself wanted. He also wasn’t Damian, so easily manipulable when one knew which buttons to push. And he certainly wasn’t Jason, who would sink his own ship to kill the captain.

So, when Tim and Bruce fought, and his adopted father decided to pull the ‘you live under my roof and work in my company, so I’m the boss all the way through’ card, well…

Yeah. Tim wasn’t going to take that lying down. He had a childhood of zero authority figures to obey and an overabundance of sass, plus a complete lack of fucks to give.

It was bound to go down like this.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And, well. Tim had money. Like, an absurd amount of money. Even before being adopted by playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, Tim had his own no small fortune stashed away, a couple of properties gathering dust, two trust funds and more antique cars that he knew what to do with. So he could just… burn through that money, or sell the cars, or make a living of renting the buildings he owned, and he would barely even scratch the surface of his deep wealth.

But it wasn’t about being able to live comfortably with minimum effort. Tim was trying to prove a point here. What point, fuck if he knew. But a point.

So here he was, on the other end of the wooden counter, a cute red cap falling over his eye as he looked dead into his friend’s eyes.

“Tim. Tim, you’re rich. Why are you working in a coffee shop?”

Seeing as Kon and Cassie were currently too busy being shocked, Tim shrugged and went back to cleaning the cup in his hands.

It was a plastic cup. It didn’t need cleaning, he could just toss it away. But it was his favorite plastic cup, and he was gonna save it as a family heirloom forever.

(The fact that the pretty customer from the morning shift had drawn cute little doodles all over it had nothing to do with it’s worth.)

“Teenage rebellion”, he finally said, carefully putting his treasure away.

“You are twenty.”

“Time is a social construct and I’m but a slinky falling down an endless flight of stairs.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make any sense. How is it so symmetrical? It defies nature.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

“What can I get for you?”

“I'll have a mocha caramel latte-chino, made with skim milk, no whipped cream.”

“Bart, no.”

“Please put that in a grande cup”

“I’m begging you, don’t do it.”

“But use the same amount of coffee that you'd put into a tall.”

“I’m warning you, you don’t want to do this.”

“That way there's about an inch of extra room on top.”

“I wish you had an extra inch so I could look straight into your eyes when I murder you.”

“To stir in my own nutmeg without spilling any coffee at all.”

“You’re dead to me. Also, I AM going to make you that drink and you WILL finish it or so help me God.”

“What do you want, Kon?”

“To not be here when Tim’s looking like he’s planning both our unsolved murders.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Kon entered the shop, the messenger bag slung over his shoulder bumping against his hip as he rushed in to get his caffeine intake before his evening classes, he wasn’t surprised at the scene.

Cassie being there was a given, since there was always at least one of them there at all times, supporting Tim in this ‘independence’ thing he was dead set on trying. Kon himself had his Tim Shift later that day, after his creative writing course. Bart had probably just left, considering the amount of empty cake platters littering the counter.

Tim being face down in said counter, uncaring about the mess, was also old news. The dude barely ever seemed to leave (Kon was almost completely sure he actually owned the place, since he’d never seen any sort of manager and Tim’s hours seemed to work around his weird sleep patterns all too perfectly), and distraught was his general state of being, so. Normal day as far as he could see.

Still, he had to ask. “What is it today?”

Cassie, eyes never leaving her magazine, chin resting in one hand as the other one scratched at Tim’s scalp, snorted.

“A cute boy started working in the tattoo place next door. He came in for a morning fix, when Tim was barely awake, and he said something stupid, so he’s been having an existencial crisis ever since.”

“I said ‘you too’, Kon. He said ‘thanks for the coffee, I’ll enjoy it!’ and I said ‘you too’. What is wrong with me?”

Kon snorts a little. Tim doesn’t seem to be very interested in doing his actual work, so he just jumps over the counter and starts working the machines himself.

“You know that’s a question you can only ask your therapist, Tim, but if you need to know, I’d say you’re highly sleep deprived and a dysfunctional bi?”

At that, Tim does turn to look at him. There’s some cake frosting clinging to his eyelashes, and his hair is a mess. It looks cute, to be completely honest, and Kon has to leave his unfinished latte on the side so he can hug the little shit.

“Aw, don’t pout, Timbo. I’m sure he thought you were cute. Just try to sleep a bit more tonight, so when he comes back tomorrow you’ll be a little more alert and won’t embarrass yourself.”

“What do you mean, when he comes back?”

“I mean, if he works next door, he’ll probably get his morning coffees here all the time, right?”

That seemed to drive Tim back into the distraught spiral. He smashed his head back into the counter, making dying whale noises until Cassie’s hand returned to his scalp.

Kon privately thinks Tim’s life is starting to sound like fanfiction. He wonders which type of background character he would be, in it.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The shop is called F’coffee. That’s why Cassie is convinced Tim is the actual owner; no one else would really think that’s a proper name for a serious establishment. Kon isn’t convinced all the way yet, but with Bart on her side and Tim staying silent on the subject, it is just a matter of time until she convinces him it’s totally okay for him to do his gym routine there. She thinks, with Tim being his own boss, no one would tell him to stop it, and it would help his friend’s business to bloom with new customers.

The place's general aesthetic is exactly what you would expect, with old wooden tables, comfy chairs, potted plants hanging from the walls and tall windows just a little bit stained. The smell is constantly of the strongest brew Tim has, Death Coffee (which he’s actually not legally allowed to sell, so he keeps it for himself), and just setting a foot in makes her feel instantly awake. It's also always warm, and the sweets on display look mouth watering no matter your personal preferences.

In short, it looks like something out of a movie. It’s a tad too perfect for her friend, but she thinks it also fits his obsessive need for perfection.

Except for the board. Oh, the board. Cassie loves it more than life itself.

Tim has divided the drinks in categories. And made up names for all of them.

“Yes, hello! I’d like to order a grande, iced, sugar-free vanilla Latte, with soy milk, but I can’t seem to find it in your menu…”

Tim’s dead eyes turn to Cassie for a second, before facing his customer again.

“You’re probably looking into the Normal People section”, he points out, before raising his hand to signal a bit to the left. “There you have the Pain In The Ass selection. There’s nothing just like you asked, but you have the It’s Britney Bitch beverage, which is almost exactly the same except I’ll add a middle finger drawing in the cup and charge you extra for emotional damages. Also, we’re out of soy milk.”

Or…

“Hey, good morning! I’d like to order…”

Tim raised a hand, stopping the chirpy, good looking young man dead in his tracks.

“Don’t tell me, I know what you need. I’ll just go ahead and prepare it.”

“But you don’t even know what I/”

“You’ll have a Cougar Bait. It has cacao cream, a strawberry pucker and some grenadine seeds. I think it's fitting, for you.”

And also…

“Hey, hum… Sorry, I just have to ask… what’s on the ‘Barista’s heart’ drink?”

“Cacao powder, almond milk and espresso. Also some organic coconut ash, that gives it the blacker-than-night color, that’s just a shade lighter than my soul.”

“...noted.”

Cassie snorts into her cup of Jack it up (coffee that tastes just like a Jack Daniel’s; having Tim working here has opened up her eyes to the possibilities), watching as Tim makes his own usual.

“What’s in that one?” She asks, out of curiosity, when she’s sure there’s no other customer close by.

“Six espresso shots.”

She waits for a second. Tim finishes the drink, carefully handling the dark liquid inside his favorite plastic cup.

“...okay, and?”

“And that 's it.”

“Tim, that-- that would kill you?”

“Duh. Why did you think it was called The Last Sip?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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gothellewoods · 2 years ago

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3, 6, 8, and 13 for the ask game? Or any combination thereof? 👀👀

3) Favorite superhero film?

I’m picking top 3 here. I think my favorite is probably into the spider-verse. It’s so well animated, stylistically interesting, and I adore miles morales. I’d been so nervous about this movie, and I had been keeping track of everything since the moment it was announced, but I was terrified the whole time since Sony pictures animation doesn’t have a great track record. The teaser trailer gave me hope, though. I don’t go to the movies that often, but I went to watch it the day it dropped and it honestly exceeded my expectations.

The second film is Venom. The first venom film, the sequel is fun, but there was something so insane about the way the first one came out that it just has a special place in my heart. I love the venom comics, and I was still thoroughly obsessing over Mike Costa’s venom run when this movie was coming out, but I’m gonna be honest, when I saw the trailer I completely disregarded it. It looked over the top edgy in a 90s comic kinda way. I almost never disregard a movie by trailer alone, but they made the movie look like another BvS or Suicide Squad (2016) (derogatory). I genuinely thought it would be like how Morbius turned out. I was so surprised when the reviews dropped and they all said pretty much the same thing— this movie sucks, but it’s sure as fuck fun to watch. I though, hey! That’s my favorite type of movie!! So I gave it a chance, and they were so right. I saw this movie 5 times while it was still in theaters (mostly pirating, but still).

The last movie is The Batman (2022). I actually had a lot of hope for this movie going in, considering how Matt Reeves studied under Jeph Loeb and cited The Long Halloween as a major influence, but I was still a little wary. I really hate the dark knight returns (and frank miller in general), and most Batman movies are to some extent an adaptation of this work. Which sucks. I was really pleasantly surprised by the hopeful turn the movie took, how it denounced miller’s Batman through the use of the Riddler as a parallel. Plus, the cast were all excellent and the visuals were beautiful. I’m looking forward to the sequel and hoping they include robin!

6) Favorite Side Character

I really miss Roxy Leech from Superboy’s solo run. All of kon’s supporting cast disappeared after his solo ended and it sucks. She was like a sister figure to him and she’d bring a lot to comics now. I also love Bernard Dowd. He left such an impression in the few issues he appears in, and now he’s back as Tim’s Boyfriend!! That’s huge! He hasn’t had a chance to shine yet recently, I hope he’s still an absolute bitch. I also miss prudence wood, from Tim’s Red Robin run. She had so much potential, bring her back dc!

(A few months ago I’d have probably had spider-punk on this list, but he’s got a solo now!! Not a side character anymore lol)

8) Favorite team up

Young Justice!!!! YJ 1998 my beloved! What a team! I don’t really care for the animated series, it’s totally unrelated to the comics and I can’t get behind their adaptation of kon. He’s so bland and whiny. YJ 1998 is so funny, the characters are so bizarre and they’re all completely unhinged about each other. Love those guys

13) A villain who genuinely scared you

I don’t know that any particular villain has ever like, really scared me? But I do find something viscerally horrifying about like, all of Al Ewing’s immortal hulk. It’s such a good run. It tackles a lot of heavy themes well. (Shame the artist turned out to be a shitbag, but I refuse to let that ruin the story for me. He didn’t write it, after all.)

I guess I could say the joker here, not because the character himself particularly scares me, but because of what he’s come to mean to incels and those types. It’s dangerous when a character can become a symbol for such hateful groups to rally under.

Ask game

#ask game #superboy #roxy leech #Bernard dowd #spider-punk #young justice 1998 #venom

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agendercryptidlev · 3 years ago

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hello, just saw this on my dash, and wanted to let you know i’m 100% the intended audience for this lol, and would love to hear you ramble

no pressure though, feel free to ignore me

Oh nice! Alright I'll explain:

So the AU starts With Tim and his friends in Tim's parent's ghost hunting basement, Because Bruce and Talia are Jack and Maddie. So similar to in cannon Bart, Cassie, and Kon try to convince Tim to go into the ghost portal, only in this AU Bart, Cassie and Kon go in instead (Tim is too worried about breaking it because he knows it means a lot to Bruce). When those three are getting ghost powers Tim tries to get them out so he is also affected just not to the same degree. Each of them gets a power to start and they are as follows:

Cassie: Ghost beams Kon: Flight Bart: Intangibility Tim: gets the ghost sense only well the ghost sense and his own unique power of being able to temporarily turn ghosts human again. Tim also cannot go ghost

Cissie fills the role of Sam and Tucker as "Sassy completely human friend without powers who knows" because I LOVE HER

Greta is the team's ghost bestie, she gets a little obsessed with Tim after Tim starts showing that he can temporarily turn her human, but she gets better.

Jazz is filled by both Cass and Steph, Cass realizes something is up with Tim and gets Steph to help her figure out what's up with her brother.

Dick and Damian are also Tim's siblings! Dick doesn't find out about Tim being one of the phantoms for a very long time, he's just glad that Tim is spending more time hanging out with his friends. Damian finds out after Cass but before Dick because he was suspicious of the phantoms and investigating them. Him and Tim still bicker and eventually develop a rivalry but they're closer than in cannon.

Now Jason, Jason is a ghost. a dead ghost. feel bad now? /ref anyway yeah Jay died shortly before Bruce started fostering Tim and is a big reason Bruce got so deep into the ghost research, he wants to know if he can contact his son. Jason is of course an angst ghost and fights with the phantoms initially but eventually makes up with his family because I need some fluff goddamn it.

Anita my beloved is next, she takes the place of Valarie. So her motivations are slightly different: in this her parents die in a ghost attack where the phantoms are present so she sees them as just as bad as the other ghosts (of course until she gets to know them and realizes they're on the same side) Also Slobo is a ghost and the first ghost she befriends

Thad is Danni because I love Thad so much- and also you can never go wrong with more flashfam. Ra's would have cloned Tim however because Tim is a "defective" Halfa he gets DNA from whichever other phantom he can access and that happens to be Bart! So yeah love Thad love Thad

Now that I've mentioned Ra's, it's pretty obvious that I've made him take the place of Vlad. Ra's wants Talia back from Bruce in a possessive parent way not a romance way obviously and he's initially most interested in Damian out of his grandkids, he wants to see if being a halfa is at all genetic. Much to his surprise it turns out Bruce's newest adopted kid Tim is the one who's a halfa, along with Tim's obnoxious friends. So he tries to make Tim his apprentice and Tim says no. Ra's later tries to make Damian Tim's rival but they make up instead and get closer hah!

Ok I have wayyyy more to say about this but I'm running out of steam. lmk if you want to hear about any specific YJ-centric characters because I probably have ideas for them!

#YJ DP AU #dc

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spidori · 1 year ago

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If Tim is going undercover with the photography class, it's only a matter of time before Kitty and Johnny have one of their inevitable fights and Tim ends up roped in because he's the best student in the class so he's prime possession-for-jealousy bait.

I'm going for maximum chaos, so here's what I've got. It starts with Johnny's comments about Tim having a crush, but he isn't showing any of the usual accompanying possessive jealousy; he's still *feeling* super jealous and possessive, but he's been working with Jazz on not acting on what he knows are essentially intrusive thoughts; Johnny knows Kitty loves him and *only* him at the end of the day, and at some point showing her he knows that has to include *acting* in a way that lines up with his implicit absolute trust in her. So it's incredibly hard for him, but he's taking a huge step here by actively and constantly ignoring the intrusive thoughts and instead choosing to act in ways which reflect his knowledge that Kitty chooses him.

Jazz is super proud of him, especially him coming to her for help when he needs advice on what a healthy response would be to a specific instance with Tim. He's been doing that a LOT, so the fact he's been able to keep setting aside his pride and jealousy, and to keep being vulnerable by exposing how unsure he is to her, Jazz is making it clear to Johnny that he's doing great.

But I promised chaos and all we have so far is fluff. Time to keep my promise >:-}

Jazz missed *one* kinda absolutely crucial detail, she's been helping*Johnny* to be healthier, *Kitty* is still as full of maladaptive coping mechanics as she ever was. She sees Johnny going to Jazz almost daily, and every time he goes in super stressed and unhappy, but comes out smiling and even glowing with gentle pride... yeah, something's up...

At first, Kitty jumps to him having a fling with Jazz, but too many things don't add up. Jazz would never do that to her, of that Kitty is completely sure. Not to mention, if Johny was cheating on her like that, he'd never look so *proud* about it every time he walked out; she knows her man has a wandering eye, but a major part of why she's always been able to forgive him is how clearly guilty he always felt about it. So this whole thing, none of it adds up, at least not until the stress of her confusion gets to her and she blows up at Johnny, and he insists that he's not doing anything with Jazz, she's just been helping him unpack all of his feelings that keep getting triggered by that Alvin (Tim) kid in Kitty's photography class.

Suddenly it all clicks for Kitty (or that's what she thinks anyway). The reason Johnny isn't acting his usual jealous self isn't because he doesn't care about her (true), he hasn't caught feelings for Jazz (also true), his stress followed by PRIDE... he's developed massive feelings for ALVIN! (And we've taken a turn of the highway of reality right onto a one-way road towards absolute-chaos-ville)

Kitty has not been working with Jazz on better coping mechanisms, or at least not as focused as Johny has been. Kitty is still a ball of maladaptive habits, ghostly obsessions, and ghostly abilities. Kitty is now panicking about the central object of her main obsession being carried away by his queer awakening; she always knew he was bi, and always worried on some level that she wouldn't be enough because of it, because that's the level of mental health they've both been stuck at for a very long time now, they're both ghostly teenagers without access to any psyche care besides spectra, they can be at least mostly excused.

Kitty falls back into old habits. She'll keep her man however she can. So she decides to possess the problem herself...

It has been three days since she possessed the man she now knows is named Tim. The league of assassins is currently on both fire, and Mars. Tim is no longer possessed, but he is currently on the couch making out with Superboy (Kon, just to be clear) who is possessed because the three of them thought it would be fun to try. Her and Johnny have had a long talk and cleared things up, and she's going to start visiting Jazz on the regular. For now though, she needs to help clean up the mess she made. Normally she'd start by helping move the Watchtower out of the ghost zone, but it being so close to Phantom's Keep is really helping speed up the talks between the UN and Danny's ruling council, so maybe she'll start by bringing back the batcave instead.

At least she got a cool red robin motorcycle out of all of this... and her relationship with Johnny will end up stronger (and a lot healthier) than ever before once all is said and done

DPxDC fic idea: The Infinite Realms Hobby Store

Danny Fenton drops out of school on his sister's recommendation to aim for a GED. Then two weeks after he does receive his high school equivalence document, Danny and his sister Jasmine pack up and move to Gotham, where they promptly open their own business. A small hobby store that's during rather well for itself, especially with offered classes to learn said hobbies.

The instructors of the classes are all a rather colorful bunch that don't seem from Gotham but aren't bad like outsiders usually are.

The siblings continue their education through online courses and attend Gotham University. Jasmine studying psychology and Danny studying engineering.

They don't seem like up-and-coming villains who may be behind the strange changes in the city. Nothing terrible has happened so far but that's just it. Nothing has happened, and if that doesn't make every citizen's skin crawl, nothing else will.

It's like the core of Gotham is breaking away, and no one knows what it is or if it's a good thing.

Tim Drake, disguised as Alvin Draper, signed up for the offered Photography class to prove they were and stop them before it's too late.

Danny and Jazz are aware there is something strange about Alvin Draper.

Still, they have thier hands tied, prepping Danny to take the Ghost Throne, keeping up with college, trying to fix a crumbled relationship with their parents after the Big Reveal, and keeping all of Danny's ex-Rouges satisfying their obsessions by having them express it through a hobby.

Ember teaches guitar on Mondays.

Technus does coding an hour before her.

Lunch lady has a cooking lesson on Tuesday.

Poindexter does miniature models on Wednesdays.

Kitty got Photography and modeling on Thursdays.

Johnny, who is never too far away from her, runs his crocheting class at the same time.

And Ghost Writer does creative writing on Fridays.

Saturdays is a surprise course by whichever ghost is free that week, and Sundays they are closed.

They just can't find the time or energy to figure out that guy's deal. Best to leave Alvin alone.

They hope to stay out of Batman's radar long enough to break all the curses Gotham is dosed in. It's one of Danny's first real jobs as Ghost King, so he's trying his best, but come on, this place is a mess.

Not to mention the people generally seemed unhappy to have the curses gone. Apparently it doesn't feel right or something.

(Johnny insists Alvin is just a bisexual disaster who has a crush on both of them but Johnny is also a bisexual disaster so the Fenton siblings don't listen to him.)

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years ago

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Heat Waves (TimKon)

Words: 3k

Hi! I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been working on this for way too long and definitely have a pt2 planned out if you guys like part one! I hope you’ll take the time to read this because I spent way too long on it and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

for the like 0.1% of my audience that this overlaps with, yes, i too am utterly obsessed with Heat Waves for DNF and have been listening to this song on repeat for three days straight waiting for chapter 8. But, i figured why not let that amazing piece of absolute art inspire a Timkon fic cuz they have the same dynamic as DNF in my eyes! All credits go to tbhyourelame on ao3!

if you don’t know what heat waves is that’s fine this is just a regular fic but I highly recommend you checkout the amazing song here

It was as hot as death itself in Kansas. Not to mention a farm with no AC was just about the worst place Conner could be forced to “vacation” at. But Ma and Pa had been begging to have him over and the month of June just seemed to overlap, so there Kon was, sweating buckets in the middle of nowhere.

It felt so cold in Gotham. Though, the temperature was comfortable- the most comfortable it had been all year- but Tim always felt colder, lonelier, when Conner wasn’t by his side. The two of them were a duo, fitting together like a puzzle piece, the absolute best of friends and best of heroes. But now, he was using his mandatory away-from-the-tower weeks up while Conner was in Kansas, it was some sort of mandate that Bruce’s kids come home occasionally and instead of suffering weekends in Gotham Tim opted to just grind out a few weeks at the manor, even if it meant dealing with Damian’s unrelenting murder attempts. But it wasn’t all bad, Tim got to patrol with Bruce again, hang out with Jason occasionally, and even see Dick from time to time. “Family” bonding at it’s finest.

“Hello?” Tim’s voice was quiet, Kon constantly felt himself turning the volume button up on his phone just to hear a decibel more of his best friend’s comforting tone.

“Hey Timbers how was your day?” Conner felt himself relaxing to the light sound of Tim breathing, he was laying on the floor, spread like a starfish so that no sticky part of his body could touch and create more sweat.

“Nothing much, no patrol tonight- I guess you remembered,” Tim’s voice was filling his ears. I remember everything you tell me. “Yeah, yeah I did,” Conner quickly replied. “Any boring farm chores today?” Conner heard the familiar rustling, he could hear Tim stand up, he’d memorized the sound of Tim taking him off speaker and resting the phone in between his shoulder and ear. He could hear Tim’s hair, that he knew he was probably growing out, brush the mic. I always liked his hair longer.

“Kon?” Tim snapped him back into the stiflingly hot room. “Oh sorry, it’s really hot here, kinda makes me zone out. Um, I’m alright I got to hangout with the cows today which was cool- they don’t like the heat either but Ma says it’ll be over soon,” Conner rambled, all too focused on Tim’s breath in his ear.

“Sorry for making you zone out, I guess nothing interesting is happening here,” Tim sighed, Conner shook his head, rolling over on the floor, leaning down into the mic of his phone.

“Nothing about you bores me Tim,”

Tim didn’t reply. Conner mentally cursed himself, he was really too tired, too hot and bothered to be this flirtatious with Tim, who was a complete wild card when it came to Conner.

And then he answered, Tim’s voice was higher pitched, the way it ascended when he was blushing- he was blushing. “Well that’s not true, I’m very boring. When I’m doing cases or training or-” Conner couldn’t take it.

“Nothing about you could bore me Tim. I’m down to be with you whenever, doing whatever, you know that,” he felt his tone soften, loving the way Tim’s breath hitched with every compliment.

“Be with me?” Tim shot back playfully, Conner could practically hear the smirk toying on the smaller boy’s lips.

“Did I stutter?” Conner heard a loud noise, a thump. Tim’s voice was high pitched again, “Sorry- uh I dropped my phone,” Conner felt himself growing warmer, if at all physically possible. “No problem. So, what are you doing tomorrow with Bruce?” Conner didn’t like pushing Tim too far, hell, he barely knew how he felt half the time. Tim’s voice brightened, “Oh! We’re gonna go to this old ice cream shop I adored as a kid! It’s been too long since I’ve been there, you remember me talking about it?”

Conner didn’t need a second to answer, “Sub 30, you always get the one with the espresso poured over it,” he couldn’t lie, ice cream sounded absolutely heavenly at the moment. Tim’s voice flooded through the heat, “Right as always- I swear they programmed some sort of photographic memory inside of you,” Tim teased, Conner answered honestly, “I just listen when you tell me things”. The night went on, Tim quickly had to go, believe it or not he did sleep when given the opportunity. “Try not to die of heat exhaustion, drink lots of water throughout the day, not all at once,” Conner smiled, “will do, goodnight Timmy,” Tim answered mid yawn, “night Kon”.

And then he was alone. Alone with the heat, with his thoughts, the latter far more dangerous. He’s my best friend, of course I remember everything. Conner found himself staring at the ceiling, Ma had painted constellations on the walls and ceilings of the room, something funny about alien genes liking the stars. Conner used to be able to find every pattern, name every star, but the only shape he could trace was Tim. There were his eyes, they were pools of deep blue, they sparkled when he laughed but could glare bullets when he tried. If he stared hard enough Kon could find his hair, it’s always soft and smells delicious, layers falling effortlessly- cascading to frame his face. Then there were his lips, Conner found himself constantly mesmerized with the way Tim bit his bottom lip when thinking, the way they scrunched together when he said something funny, how they constricted when he bit the inside of his cheek just enough to hide the emotion he was so scared of portraying. They were perfect.

He let the heat take his mind, flowing with the stars as he thought dangerous thoughts about his best friend. His thoughts danced around Tim’s waist, flowing carefully around his chest, wrapping Kon in every layer of Tim’s personality, every smile, laugh, tear, scowl, it was Tim. Kon’s Tim.

And there, on the floor, he drifted to an uncomfortable, sweaty sleep.

Tim was scrolling aimlessly through his phone, Gotham was surprisingly boring. He once found the city bustling and distinctly alive but now it only left him cold, cold and bored.

“Ice cream as good as you remember?” Bruce’s voice lifted him from his device. “Yup! Can’t believe you let me have espresso at like 10, you basically started my addiction.” Tim threw on a smile, glancing down at the half eaten dessert. “Yeah, can’t say I was the best father but, I tried,” Bruce’s shoulders shook lightly, but the laughter didn’t make it to his eyes. Did you really try? Truly? Tim dove back into the creamy sweet, admiring the bitterness the espresso brought the flavor. His phone buzzed.

K: Did you get the ice cream?

T: yeah, you remembered?

K: You literally told me last night

T: have i been off your mind since?

K: No.

Conner always did this, every time Tim thought he’d throw him off guard with something funny or flirtatious just to have a little fun Kon took it and ran with it. And I’m always the one who ends up blushing. Tim thought, shaking his head. It was really his fault he let Conner get him riled up. They were best friends, flirting or dealing out little sexual quips were natural, and often pretty funny.

“Earth to Tim? I’ve got a meeting you wanna head back while I head to the office?” Tim glanced over at Bruce who was now standing up in front of him. “Yeah, I can work on cases back at the manor, you gonna head to the office?” stretching his arms he stood up, noticing Bruce had put on his business face- the one stone cold and dry that only brought back the worst memories. “Yes.” His response was gruff, Tim suppressed the shudder that tried to dance down his spine. “Uh yeah, I’ll head back, have a nice day B,” he smiled, hoping it made it to his eyes.

“You can’t keep calling me while I’m on patrol, it’s not safe,” Tim chastised Conner loosely, appreciating the company as his patrol with Damian was always deathly silent. “C’mon, you’re used to having me in your ear,” Tim gulped, glancing around for Damian who was three buildings over, deeply uninterested. “Kon, oh my god, I’m gonna mute you,” Tim whispered, revelling in the chuckle that stirred in Conner’s chest. It was deep, and warm, so distinctly warm Tim felt the heat budding in his chest.

“So, patrol with the demon? He hasn’t cut your grapple line yet?” Conner’s tone was low and silky smooth. Coughing to clear his throat Tim replied, “nope, he’s most horrific when Bruce is here, when he’s not the punk couldn’t care less whether I live or die,”

“I care,”

“I know Kon,” If only you knew how much I appreciated it.

“Asshole, can you hear me? I said we’ve got a gang robbery on second? You coming genius?” Damian’s disgusted tone flooded over his comm, and Tim quickly turned his attention to the bat-brat who was already grappling towards the alarms and shouts. Conner’s whisper asked, “can he hear me?” and Tim replied, “no, you’re on a separate channel, Dami can only hear me when I unmute. Just be quiet while I take out these thugs,”

“Why? Because my voice distracts you?” Conner’s tone shifted into dangerously flirtatious.

“No, cuz you’re annoying as shit,” Tim smirked, running across the top of a building, letting Damian call the signals so he didn’t get all upset.

“Do I make you uncomfortable Tim? Do I make you forget just exactly what you’re doing, whether you want to use your batarang or bo staff? Do I make you, warm? Because it’s so warm here, so hot, god I’m just so hot I-”

“Shut. Up.” Tim struck the gun out of a scared looking man. Rolling his eyes at the man in his ear.

“Why? Are you too focused? We’ve taken out much harder criminals all while talking. Aren’t we just talking right now?” Kon’s voice was ringing in his head like never before.

“I’m trying to focus but it’s no good when you’re in my ear.”

“And what if I wasn’t in your ear? You remember? When we work side by side, so close- are you an affectionate person Tim?” Tim could feel the heat dripping off of Conner’s voice, but he was taken aback by Conner’s new line of thought.

“Wha- what? Am I affectionate? I don’t know. Sometimes?” Tim almost missed a hit, huffing as Damian blocked what would’ve been a hard blow on him. “Start paying attention Drake,” Damian’s tone was acidic. But he was drawn back into his com as Conner’s voice flooded his ears again.

“Would you be affectionate with me?”

“Yes” Tim’s breathless reply was instant, his brain not giving him a chance to think.

“Good, I like that. You know I’m very affectionate too? I like getting to hold the people I care about close, feeling their warmth. You know I’m very warm right now?”

“I- I know Kon, I bet, are you doing alright? Drinking water?” Tim shook out the thought of Conner lazing out in his room, sweaty, lips parted as he pushed out warm breath- Stop. Focus. Your job is to defend these people. Damian’s doing a good job, You just have to round up the civilians. Tim forced himself back into the real world, taking on one of the gang members with ease, tying him up swiftly before moving on to the next.

“I heard that, I can hear it every time you take out one of those men. This is easy isn’t it? I can’t be that distracting to you. You’re too good.”

“You always do this,” Tim felt his cheeks heating up, his steps felt forced, like he had to remind himself to breathe. Tim carefully rounded up civilians, escorting them to safety as Conner started again in his ear.

“Always do what Tim? Tell you how much I appreciate you? How much I miss you? Do you not think you deserve to be missed? To be loved?”

“Conner” Tim’s tone was harsher than he wanted it to be. But nonetheless Conner continued.

“Why not? Why the hell not? You’re amazing Tim.”

Tim scoffed, playing it off as a cough to the people in front of him.

“What do you need to hear Tim? That you’re amazing? Brilliant?-”

“Oh my god Kon-” Tim interrupted, but Conner wasn’t done.

“Talented? Impressive? [his tone deepended] - Attractive?”

“I’m gonna hang up,” Tim was breathing so hard he was practically hyperventilating. The compliments were all that consumed his thoughts, swirling around his brain, packing it full of deep, dangerously flammable thoughts.

And Conner was ready to let it burn.

“You need to be kissed Tim,” Conner murmurs, throat raw, “so hard that you can’t remember your name- maybe then you’ll understand what I mean.”

The batarang in Tim’s hand clattered to the floor. Damian’s head whipped to him as Tim struggled to regain function.

“I’m muting you, see you in a bit,” was all Tim could choke out before he ripped the earpiece out, unable to let it sit, burning into his skull. You’re almost done here, cool down, finish up. Tim told himself as he manually reminded himself to breathe. You’ve got this.

Conner knew Tim ended the call. But he didn’t have the energy to stop the endless beeping from the disconnected phone.

He was laying on the floor of his room, limbs spread out as he clawed for anything that could cool him down, but all he could feel was heat as he stared up at the stars.

He had to admit, he’d pushed Tim further than ever before. But it felt too right to stop, too good. He couldn’t stop replaying the way Tim’s breath hitched after every word, desperately grasping for the feeling budding up in his chest. It was too addictive to not let the words he’d spent too long crafting pour from his lips into Tim’s heart.

Kon didn’t know how long he laid there, dazed in the heat, just trying to relive word after perfect word.

Until his phone rang.

“Tim?” his voice was ragged and raw.

Tim’s was high pitched and tight. “Conner what the hell was that? Was that funny to you? Saying all those things- flirting with me while I’m trying to do my job?”

“Flirting?” Conner mused, staring at the stars with a tattered smirk on his face.

“Don’t act dumb, I don’t know what kind of sick joke it was saying all that while I’m on patrol but I’m glad you think you’re funny,” Tim’s voice was cold. But not the cooling tone, it was sharp, like the way the freeze of ice can feel so painfully hot when applied too harshly.

“I would’ve said it to you no matter what you were doing,” Conner whispered, resting his phone on his chest, wincing at the sticky noise it made as he tried to adjust it’s positioning.

“So that was just all for you? To let you listen as you screwed with my brain?” Tim retorted.

Conner was done dancing around the truth, all forms of control eluding his mind. “Yes,”

“That’s cruel Kon, can you imagine if I did that with you? Told you how you needed to be kissed while you’re out with Jon or something?” Tim sounded exasperated, but at the end of each quip Kon could hear the deep breaths he was taking. Does- Does he like this?

Tim continued. “Don’t answer that. Shut up, I know what you’re gonna say. ‘Oh Tim it’s not the same,’ just- just get out of my head!”

Conner sat up. He was floating. Floating in the middle of his room, the phone on his chest tumbling to the floor as he scrambled to grab it again, feeling his feet touch the ground as he held the phone as close to his lips as he could.

“What do you mean Tim? How am I in your head?” Do you feel the same way I do right now?

“You- you just know me. So well, and when you say stuff like that- when you’re in my ear saying those things your voice, it’s like fire, it burns.” Tim sounded desperate, his voice painfully strained.

Conner’s head was spinning, “I burn you?” he matched Tim’s desperate tone.

“You melt me.”

Conner’s head slammed against the roof of his room, as he tried to regain control of his senses he heard Tim murmur, “does that make sense?”

“More than you know Timbers, more than you know,” Conner could hear Tim let out a sigh, the kind that told him all would be okay.

As Conner took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come Tim spoke first. “It’s so late Kon, I’ve been up to long, I think I need to go to bed,” Tim’s tone was soft again, the cooling, comforting tone that Kon was scared he’d never hear again.

"Yeah, I- uh, have chores in the morning anyways.” Conner answered, hoping to give Tim some peace of mind.

“Okay, sounds good. Goodnight Conner,” Tim said quietly, his tone thoughtful and slow, finally letting the sleep crowd his mind.

“Goodnight Tim, talk to you tomorrow?” Conner let too much hope sink into those last few words.

“Yes, night now,” Tim answered easily, quickly hanging up the call, letting Conner sink down back into the carpet of his floor.

“Tomorrow,” Conner whispered to himself, feeling the intense heat start to creep back in as he drifted into a sweaty sleep.

“Tomorrow,” Tim whispered to himself, trying to swallow the nerves he didn’t know Conner could draw out of him.

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

not my usual fic but I really hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @vintageroses10 @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @foenixphire @how--are--you @psych0crybaby @romance-is-tragic @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek also kita cuz i love u and wanted to try writing timkon more in your style hehehe @river-bottom-nightmare

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yellowocaballero · 4 years ago

Note

hi i know it's been the hottest of seconds but director's cut for the prophetic spring if you're still doing these? 👀

Sure! I’ve spoken a lot about the prophetic spring, but I’m fairly certain I could give some meta information about my intense life-long obsession with Tim Drake. Dude has been showing up in my fics since I was 14.

But actually, the ficlet I wrote ages ago might be more interesting? So here it is. Exploring a dynamic that was WAY underserved for how important it is: the Steph, Cass, Tim dynamic!

No CW that haven’t appeared in the prophetic spring, but specific mention for drug addiction and drug depiction, as well as references to molestation, abortion, torture, and suicide. Story under the cut.

Tim stared down into the toilet bowl. It was a little yellowed. He needed to clean it.

He stared at the small baggie of pills in his hand.

He visualized dropping it into the bowl, flushing it. Possibly mutating an alligator, or giving the race of mole people that lived in the Gotham sewers a nice surprise.

Tim sighed, and pocketed the drugs. Maybe tomorrow.

A month after the incident with a runaway foster kid and a, in retrospect, kind of embarrassing fake fight with his older brother, Tim got a text from an unknown number. To make matters worse, it was at an insane hour of the day - noon.

Texts from strangers were hardly uncommon. Tim had an extensive contact network, growing larger by the day, but he had set up a Google Voice on his computer so they were all routed through a program there. Being bothered at all hours of the day on his phone was hardly his idea of a good time. The only people who really had his real number were his bullshit ‘friends’ and his asshole ‘family’. He hadn’t even given his number to his ‘friends’ - he had given it to Kon under strict confidentiality, and then Kon had given it to all of Young Justice. Asshole.

405-555-1998: dropping by in three hours so make sure ur presentable :)

As Tim had just woken up, most of his brain was occupied by a single whuh?

Just as his mind swirled in sleepy confusion, his phone buzzed again.

405-555-1998: B1706XQE45

The code checked out. It was an ally, not an unknown or an enemy.

Tim groaned, covering his eyes with an elbow. He needed coffee.

****

The coffee was a new thing - rather, it was something he had drunk plenty of growing up, because there had been nobody around to inform him that coffee was bad for developing brains. Growing up completely unsupervised was probably why Tim was a drug addict now. He could totally blame this on his parents never loving him.

Not a drug addict, Tim thought to himself anxiously as the coffee sputtered into the extra large gallon pot. Just someone who...uses drugs...in an unhealthy way. Substance abu - substance user, who just used it maybe as a bad coping mechanism. Not that Tim had good coping mechanisms, but it was better than sawing off heads or becoming a drug lord. When you thought about it, it was either being a serial killer or doing drugs, so logically it means that he should do more drugs to decrease the amount of fun little murders he does -

Tim made toast.

The coffee was a new thing, because he was trying to use it to replace the drugs. He had cut back. The stupid little sorority that called themselves the Birds of Prey had been talking to him about it. He had agreed to try. It was best to set expectations low, so he couldn’t disappoint. Actually, Tim loved disappointing, maybe he should set them higher. Maybe he could make inspirational speeches about how he was a good guy now? Ha ha.

The three hours had been a deft move. The texter knew noon was his average wake-up time at best, and the three hours gave him enough time to sober up if he had been high or drunk at the time. Tim didn’t like to start popping the minute he woke up, but - well, sometimes he did. Or sometimes he was awake at noon because he had been on an all-nighter drug binge. They hadn’t given their name, either, which meant that it was somebody who he wouldn’t want to see.

He could bounce, escape to some corner of Gotham until they gave up. Except he had the sense that whoever had gone through the effort to get his number wasn’t the type to give up. Almost nobody Tim knew was the type to give up. His ‘friends’ and his ‘family’ never gave up. On anybody but him.

A voice in his head, not quite yet suffocated, sounding altogether too much like the Replacement, echoed in endless attempts to get him to come back. Oh, whatever. Kid was a try-hard. He needed better taste in made up families.

Over the next three hours, he debated his tactics. If he wasn’t escaping and the texter was playing the buddy card, then the situation probably wasn’t dangerous. He strapped in his armor under the baggy pyjamas that he never took off anyway, and spitefully made no effort to control his hair. He did put on make-up, an old hand from keeping CPS off Bruce’s trail - man, he should have pretended Bruce was molesting him, that would have been funny as fuck - to hide the bags under his eyes. No use looking pathetic.

He hid a few more weapons around his apartment. He anxiously checked his phone, staring not at the new texts but at Harley’s offer sent a week ago. He still hadn’t replied. He didn’t know what to do with it.

As if he could ever feel safe sleeping under the same roof as her?

As if he ever felt safe anywhere?

Maybe he had nothing to lose. That was the greatest part about this, the most wonderful aspect of what he had done to everybody in his life. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. That’s freedom, or so Janis had always told him. She knew what she was about. Overdosing on heroin at 27 - that was understanding what it meant, to have nothing. To be free. He was almost jealous.

At two on the dot, a polite knock echoed through the apartment. Tim looked up from where he was relaxing on the couch, with all of the possible entry points in his line of sight. That wasn’t a knock he had memorized, and he had memorized everyone’s knocks.

Nothing for it. He’d have to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Maybe he can pull the insane sociopath schtick again; that had always been effective in ditching his parents. Tim sighed, walked over to the door, swiped his thumb against the keypad, undid the three deadbolts, and opened door only to see -

Stephanie Brown, hands propped on her hips and smiling widely. Cassandra Wayne, standing right behind her, serene as ever.

Tim closed the door - or he tried. Steph had expected the move, and the minute he had opened the door her foot had jutted out and blocked him from closing the door. Effortlessly, she wrenched it back open and stepped into his apartment, forcing him to press against the wall and scowl as insane women infiltrated his space.

“Wow,” Steph said loudly, “this place looks like a wreck!”

Tim groaned.

***

The thing with Steph and Cass was this:

How to describe it?

The sister he had never expected, the best friend he had never thought he would have. Cass was his twin, Robin’s shadow, the other side of his mountain. Bruce had adopted Cass barely five months after he became Robin, and Tim had unabashedly resented her for stealing Bruce’s attention so quickly. He had always liked her more, but Bruce had liked everyone more than Tim, so maybe it was no surprise. She was sweet, kind, gentle, and no trouble. Tim wasn’t any trouble either, but he couldn’t be the rest of it if it bit him in his ass.

Robin was the brain. Cass was the muscle. They were a team so closely linked, conjoined at the hip, that Tim couldn’t remember a patrol ever done without her. Bruce had let them start patrolling alone at fourteen (“You didn’t let me work alone until I was fifteen, and I was an assassin,” Damian had spat), and they had been an unbeatable team. Robin’s hand-to-hand was weak, but nobody ever got through Batgirl. Batgirl struggled with technical knowledge, reading and writing and investigating and chasing down leads, the only area where Tim had ever excelled. Together, they had almost been as good as Batman. Sometimes, Tim had let himself think that they might be better.

They had been so similar. Everyone had always said so. They’re both so quiet, the Justice League had said. Emotionless little freaks, the Rogues had said. Neither of them blink, their schoolmates had said. But there had been nothing to say, not between them: they could have a conversation without words, without even Sign. Cass had known every twitch of Tim’s body, had understood him down to his core. Nobody else ever had. Everybody had always called Tim inscrutable and impossible to understand - but to Cass, Tim had been an open book. She knew every inch of him. And she had loved him anyway.

And Steph! When Steph had found them when they were fourteen veering on fifteen, and from then on it was as if she had always been there. She was so big, so smiling, so much, and she had never apologized for any of it. Nothing scared her. To Tim, that was the perfect vigilante - somebody who was scared of nothing, who never hesitated, who was good.

Not even Bruce could intimidate her. When Tim was fourteen, he had thought that was the most amazing thing in the world. Bruce intimidated everyone, but Steph had just stuck out her tongue and kept badly backflipping off roofs anyway. Through twin convincing, Tim and Cass had convinced Bruce to give her a chance, and Spoiler had slot into their dynamic perfectly. She was their best friend, always.

She wasn’t good at hand-to-hand at first, but Tim had improved by then, and they could cover her. She improved faster than he had, and judging from the reconnaissance footage Tim had frantically consumed after he came back to life, she was amazing now. She was wickedly smart, practical and down to Earth. If Tim was better at hacking into a computer, Steph was the one who found the post-it note with the password stuck under the desk.

But more than any of that, she had brought the social skills. She had brought the calming presence, the sweet hand to victims and civilians, and her good humor was infectious. Steph was good with people. She was a born leader. Resilient. Brave. Everybody liked her. Everybody loved her. Tim had. She had loved him too. She could have done so much better than Tim and Cass, weird little societal rejects, but she had chosen them as her family.

It had been the three of them. For as long as Tim’s life had meaning, for as long as he had been loved, they had loved him. Tim had grown up alone, in a world of one, and they had infiltrated it. They had expanded it, and they dragged his life into more than just Tim. Into Tim-and-Cass-and-Steph. Into Robin-Batgirl-Spoiler. Into meaning, and love.

Tim hated them. And he wanted them to suffer.

“That’s the Stephanie Brown I remember,” Tim sneered, closing the door behind him. Steph had quickly thrown herself onto Tim’s couch, clearly somewhat surprised at how comfortable it was, and Cass had perched daintily on the arm. Cass had always refused to sit like a normal person - she would rather sit on the backs of sofas, or on the arm, or perched on chairs like a bird - “If I had known you were coming I would have jumped cities.”

“We would have chased you down and you know that,” Steph said cheerfully, like she said fucking everything. “Besides, if you had known we were coming you would have gone into witness protection. You’ve been avoiding the fuck outta us.”

“Wonder why,” Tim said, injecting as much mean-spirited sarcasm into his voice as possible. “I need more coffee, don’t go through my shit.”

The apartment was small, and the kitchen had a cut-away wall where he could see through into the living room. Stephanie hated nothing more than being ignored or looked down upon, and if he dismissed her and didn’t react then she’d grow infuriated with him and leave. He couldn’t fight with her, because if it came down to a battle of rhetoric or emotions she’d win single-handedly. She was so good with words. Cass...had no weaknesses.

Which was inconvenient, because it was Cass he absolutely had to get rid of as soon as possible. She was very emotional, and more than a little sensitive. Especially to rejection. If he was cruel enough to her, she’d start crying and leave. There was only one problem with that.

As he jammed more grounds into the machine he watched the girls out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t talking or whispering to each other, both fully aware of how well Tim could read lips. They weren’t even having one of those body language conversations they could only have with each other, aware that Tim could crack that too. Instead Stephanie was casually sprawled on his couch, looking for all the world like a middle aged dad watching the football game, looking around the room. Cass, as usual, was zoning out. Or, of course, looked like she was zoning out - Tim could tell that she was waiting for something to happen, and was preparing herself for it.

Shit. Tim fought the urge to gnaw on his fingernail. Cass was going to be a problem.

He risked another glance backwards. She could see him, so she knew. Fuck. He had never been on the other side of her mind reading. It was fucking inconvenient. Psychics should be shot on sight.

The coffee sloshed into the biggest cup he could find in his kitchen, and Tim began draining it immediately as he leaned over the cutaway. He kept the cup held up to his face, obscuring it. Face covered, everything under the elbows covered - best he could do without preparation.

“This little field trip sanctified by Sgt. Brother?” Tim asked, sipping the scalding hot coffee. Not hot enough. He needed - he needed - they’d see -

“We’re nineteen, we don’t need his permission for everything we do,” Steph said, amused. So she was going to speak for Cass - hardly unusual, as whenever they were all together Steph tended to be the only one who spoke - but seeing as Tim was Tim then it was definitely a strategy.

“He lets his precious baby sisters knock on the door of drug lords for fun?” Tim sneered.

“If they’re incompetent and retired, sure!”

Tim gritted his teeth. Don’t rise to her bait. Don’t. She was the best person in the family at getting a rise out of their enemies. He didn’t stand a chance.

“What do you want?”

“We thought we’d take you roller skating at the rink,” Steph chirped.

Tim stared at her.

“Or the pool,” Steph said, faux-thoughtfully. “Or just the mall?”

Fuck this. Tim headed for the door, ready to walk out of the building barefoot in his pyjamas. He tugged at the doorknob, only to find that it wouldn’t open.

Tim breathed in through his nose, then out through his mouth. There were other exits. He was not trapped. Had his apartment always been so small? He could have sworn that it was bigger.

He turned around slowly. Stephanie was grinning at him, twirling what looked like a small plastic cylinder. Tim recognized it instantly - fancy League tech. Overrides all electronic locks and controls them. They all used it to trap perps and heighten their fear tactics. Tim jammed his thumb on the keypad. Nothing happened.

Cass glanced at Steph, and made a small motion. Tim couldn’t interpret it. Why couldn’t he interpret it? Did they have a new code? It was Cass. When nobody else had understood her, Tim always had. Now they had their own language, one that Tim couldn’t interpret anymore. Tim was lost in translation, always drifting.

“We aren’t bringing you in,” Steph said, just as light as ever. No trace of pity or caution or gentleness in her voice: just relentless cheer. “Literally all we want to do is talk. Play a board game, maybe?”

Tim’s eyes flickered to the hidden panel in the wall next to him where he had stashed a gun and a sword.

“Bro,” Steph said, “you really don’t want to escalate this.”

“Do you think you can take me?” Tim asked curiously, letting his hand drift to his arm. He shook his long pyjama sleeve down to cover his wrist. “That’s pretty cute. Last time I checked, you’re the shittiest at hand-to-hand in your team.”

But Steph just rolled her eyes. Shit, wasn’t he supposed to be ignoring her? He couldn’t, not so long as she kept pushing and pushing. Not so long as she was in his house. “Leave off. Just because Jay and I are the last people in the fam who weren’t trained in Mystical Ninja Arts doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. Hands in the air, by the way.”

Stephanie was overly sentimental. New tactic. He raised his hands slightly in the air, caught reaching for the weapon hidden in his armor. “Incompetent enough to let me die.”

There. Finally. Thank god, Tim thought he was losing his touch. The muscles clenched in Stephanie’s jaw, and just a twitch of her eye - banishing a bad memory. “Everybody’s been saying you’ve turned rude. I guess you’ve just been avoiding us because you don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

“I didn’t remember a lot when I was first resurrected,” Tim said casually, despite the fact that he had never told anybody about the first awful six months. Something about Steph and Cass just pried it out of him, like invasive surgery. Or an autopsy. “I remember everything about those six months, though. Homeless. Practically retarded. Brain damage does that to you, you know. I lived on the streets, did you know that? It was a miracle I lived through it.” He gasped, as if he was remembering something. “I slept on 34th street! You lived near there, didn’t you? Maybe you even walked by me.”

Steph went white. Cass’ expression froze. He was pushing hard, but these two wouldn’t react to anything less. Steph could trade barbs better than he could, even now.

“It’s a good thing Talia found me,” Tim continued. “She was the only one who cared.”

That did it. Steph tensed, leaning forward, and even Cass stiffened. “Is that what she told you? How can you believe her?”

Tim just shrugged, walking back to the kitchen and hiding his body language again. He took an extra loud slurp of the coffee, just to be annoying. “Talia never lied to me. She said that nobody cared enough to save me. And guess what!”

Steph’s jaw clenched again. She was a hot head. A fierce temper, an impulsive girl who jumped in feet first and sanity second. Woman, now. When had that happened? “Cut that shit out. We all know what you’re doing. You’ve been doing it to everyone. Did you think Connor didn’t warn us?”

Snitch. Tim slurped his coffee again. “Connor’s been telling everyone to give me space.”

“Yeah, everyone but us.” She stood up now, ignoring the flicker of a frown on Cass’ face, and folded her arms. A challenge against the world. Against Tim. It didn’t matter. “You don’t believe half the shit you’re spewing. You’ve never believed your own bullshit, Tim. You’re just saying it to drive everybody away. It’s not going to work on us.”

“Why?” Tim asked innocently. “You’re too thick?”

“Because we love you!” Steph cried. Tim rolled his eyes. As if he hadn’t heard that one before. “Saving Richie proved it, you aren’t as insane as you keep pretending you are. You know what you’re doing is wrong, you just don’t care.”

“Wow, you caught me.” Tim took another long swig of his coffee. It was making his hands jittery. Good. “Local genius aware of his actions. Call the press. Call Uncle Clark, he needs a scoop.” He arched an eyebrow at Steph. She hated that expression of his - she had always found it so aristocratic and pretentious. Joke’s on her, he was pretentious. “Do you mind if I go do a line? I’m not high enough for this conversation.”

If she had told him who she was, he would have done a line anyway just to spite her, and she knew it. “You don’t want to try,” Steph said stubbornly, “but you’re trying. You don’t want to care, but you care. You don’t want to feel it, but it hurts so much you can’t bear it. You can’t get anything past us, Tim. It’s always just been us. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Doesn’t that mean -

“What that means,” Tim said, and he found the words scraping his throat. He found himself talking a little louder than he meant to. The coffee, you know. Made you jittery. “is that you should have saved me. If you loved me so fucking much, you would have been anything other than useless. You’ve always been the most useless girl in the world, Steph. You couldn’t save your crook of a dad or your junkie of a mom. You couldn’t save your baby and you couldn’t save me. You’re ghetto trash putting on airs, and everyone can smell it on you.”

As soon as he said it, he tensed. He shifted his stance, ready to throw the coffee and spill the scalding liquid on her. Obscure her vision. It would take a second for her to vault the cover, so he could duck down. From there he could get the gun, shoot the window, jump out the window. She couldn’t win. Tim had the most powerful weapon in the world in his disposal and that was his infinite, burning hate. His hate for Steph and Cass burned him to the ground, and his world with it, and he was going to burn them to cinders because he couldn’t do anything else.

But Steph didn’t move. Cass got off the sofa. She walked up to Steph, and gently pressed a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed. Steph exhaled, long and shaking, and nodded at Cass. She walked into Tim’s bedroom - hey! - and shut the door.

Then Cass stared at Tim, and there was no more need for words. Not between them.

Tim vaulted the cut away wall, aiming for her feet first. Cass didn’t dodge - that would imply that she moved like an object moved. She moved like water moved - swift and supple, with such infinite grace and precision that it was like she wasn’t human at all.

But he had gotten better. He didn’t spend two and half years trained by the League of Assassins in crochet. Tim lashed out with a foot, she dodged again. He threw a punch, she moved. He feinted, clearly leaving her an opening, and she didn’t take it.

Bitch.

Cass shoved away his coffee table, sending it skidding across the floor and opening the floor space. The rug became their arena, tight and intimate, no room for maneuverability. Tim acted and she reacted, Tim lashed out a sweep kick and she jumped over it, Tim tried to grapple and she broke his hold. She never threw him to the ground, never pinned him. She just moved.

She was good, but not good enough to toy with him and win completely. The way to win against Cass was to leverage your height - Tim was taller than he once was, although that wasn’t saying much - weight, and strength against her. A couple good hits and she was down.

The issue, of course, was hitting her.

He got a hit in. It was much easier when she wasn’t even fighting back. She rolled with it effortlessly, taking the impact to gain a little space between them. She breathed deeply, sweat rolling down her neck. Tim used to take a cold compress and press it to that neck. She used to smile at him. Thank you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

“Too bad,” Tim said.

Fights weren’t like in television, long and choreographed extended scenes to entertain and thrill. When Ro - Tim was in a fight, a real fight, it was typically finished in less than a minute. The only way that a match can get long is if the other person was deliberately tiring you out - a risky strategy - or if you were of completely equal strengths with similar fighting styles. Or if it was a spar.

As Tim tried to hit her again and again, he realized that it was a spar.

No, not even that. It was a conversation.

Tim grabbed her wrist, and said: I want you to hurt. Cass broke the hold, telling him that he can’t. Tim leveraged the motion and kneed her in the back, telling her that the only goal of this fight was pain. Cass let the impact take her down to the mat, an incredibly disadvantageous position, but rolled out of the way just as Tim tried to exploit the opportunity. I’m not scared of you. Tim hit again, and again, and again, failing every time. I want you gone, Tim said, and this is the only way I know how to do it.

This is what Tim said: as much as I once loved you, I now hate you. The infinite depths of my love, my twin sister, how we moved in perfect sync. I hate it all. As much as I cared, I now hate. Feel this hate. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

They moved in perfect sync, even now. Cass couldn’t predict his movements before he made them, like she used to - his training was different now, developed and refined. But Cass knew the League of Assassins too, had been trained by them just as he had, and they were written into her bones when they were only carved into Tim’s. After his third patented Talia move, she adjusted to fit his style, and their fight metamorphosed into more of a dance. Like they used to.

“Why not!” Tim screamed, the stupidest possible thing to do in a fight, but Cass didn’t take advantage of his exhale. He lashed out a fist to cover the opening, but it was lazy and over-extended, and she dodged easily. “I’m going to kill you!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tim desperately tried to call the green to his vision. It was so easy. All he had to do was tap into that rage. Talia had called it blood lust. Said it was normal, even good. But it wouldn’t come. Where was it? It was his only friend.

Desperately, Tim went in for another punch to the face - Cass’ jaw was the weakest part of her body, an old injury - but he over-extended again, and this time Cass took the opportunity. She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, dropping him to the mat. She didn’t try to twist him around, instead landing him on his back. Bad move for her.

She kneed him in the chest, putting her full hundred and thirty pounds on him. She twisted his hands behind his back, pinning him, and Tim could do barely more than wheeze.

He looked at her in the eyes for the first time. They were infuriatingly calm. Her hair was tangled and clumped with sweat, but she wasn’t breathing hard. Her expression was placid and serene, as if she was watching one of her stupid fucking nature documentaries instead of pinning her brother to a hard and scratchy rug in a shithole apartment, three years after he was tortured to insanity and shot himself in the head.

So much time had passed. So much had happened, nasty and festering and putrid, and Tim had let it happen. He had made it happen. There was a rot in Tim, and it had eaten him up until there was nothing inside. If you cut him open, would it spill out? Would it infect her, infect Steph? Could he make them suffer?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass repeated. “So don’t be scared.”

“Scared?! I’m not fucking -” Tim wheezed, cut off by the lack of air as Cass pressed down.

“I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t mean to leave you alone. But I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill -”

Cass pressed down on his chest again, cutting him off. She had finally done the one thing nobody in Tim’s life had ever figured out: how to make him shut up. “You can be as mean to me as you want. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll stay.”

Tim wheezed. In that, maybe, Cass heard something, because she continued as if he had spoken. Or maybe she just wanted the chance to talk. It had been stolen from her for thirteen years, and it was valuable to her.

“You do not have to be kind. You do not have to hug me, even if I want you to. You do not have to be my brother. I know it hurts too much. But you are me. I am you. You do not even have to try for that. I do not have to give it to you. You have it.”

Tim couldn’t help it. He cried a little, and then he couldn’t stop.

Cass got off him, but she kept her promise. She didn’t hug him. She just propped him up against the sofa, holding his hand, and didn’t speak. At some point the door creaked, and he felt Stephanie next to him.

This is why, Tim thought hysterically, he had been avoiding them.

He knew this would happen. There was no hiding from Cass. There was no posturing, no pretending. She didn’t want anything from him. She never had. There was nothing he could say that would drive her away, because Cass did not listen to the words people spoke. She spoke only for clarity, when she could not afford for her words to be misconstrued, and for the comfort of others.

Cass knew that he had been lying out of his ass. Cass knew that he wasn’t as insane as he pretended, as cruel as he wanted to be.

He couldn’t make Cass hate him. Shit.

None of them said anything. Nothing needed to be said, not between the three of them. Cass might be having a silent conversation in Sign with Steph, but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes and look. When they had first met, it used to make Steph so mad that Tim and Cass were having ‘secret conversations’. She had poured over her dictionaries, learning as quickly as physically possible so she could keep up. Everything Steph had, she had worked hard for.

Steph was in college now. Premed. She wanted to be an ER doctor. Steph wasn’t a genius, she had to study hard. She wouldn’t be able to superhero in med school, so she was ready to hang up her cape for a few years until she achieved her dream. Steph said that she could do just as much good as a doctor as a superhero. She hadn’t always wanted it. When they were kids and Bruce used to ask her what she wanted to do when she grew up, in his awkward faux-dad way, she had always shrugged and said that she might be a nurse.

“Why not med school?” Bruce had suggested, between sleepy spoonfuls of oatmeal. She used to spend more nights at their place than at her own. Her mom hadn’t noticed.

Steph had just shrugged awkwardly, nibbling her whole-wheat organic toast that she would stare at suspiciously. Rich people, she would say, sighing. “I would never be able to afford it. And no way I’m smart enough.”

“You’re good enough,” Bruce said, which was the closest he ever came to praising somebody. “I’ll pay for it.”

Steph had gaped. Cass had eaten her Lucky Charms smugly. Tim had rolled his eyes. “An in-the-know doctor for the vigilante community would be invaluable,” he had informed her, pretentious and callous. “We could use you.”

“You deserve it,” Cass had signed.

“You have a bright future, Stephanie,” Bruce said, buckling under the panic of being a responsible adult. “I would hate to see you waste it.”

He would hate to see any of them waste their future. He had hated to see what Tim had become. He knew that. The last time he had ever seen Bruce, it was just to disappoint him. Bruce was the only parent he had ever had, and his standards were so sky high it was impossible to do anything other than disappoint.

The fact of the matter was this: he loved Cass and Steph more than he loved Bruce. He could hate Bruce. He could hate himself. But Cass and Steph…

Bruce had ear-marked a lot of money for Steph, both for whatever continuing education she chose and for her future. It had raised a lot of questions among the lawyer team, but ultimately she had been written off as another of his strays. Tim had left her a lot of money too. There probably wasn’t any point: when she married Cass she’d have equal access to the fortune. Rich people, Stephanie used to whisper in awe, looking at organic toast.

Cass was majoring in dance. She wanted to be a ballerina.

Tim’s future...Tim’s future…

“Or we can watch a nature documentary,” Steph said out loud. “If we all promise not to say a fucking word.”

Incredibly, unmistakably, irrevocably, Tim groaned. “Not the fucking bee one again.”

“I like the bees,” Cass said serenely.

“If you aren’t going to get out of my house can I at least smoke up?” Tim asked miserably.

“I brought gummy bears,” Steph said, chipper as ever, “which are way better.”

“I’m going to the fucking bathroom,” Tim grumbled, which everybody knew was as good as a yes.

“If you take anything I’ll know,” Cass said serenely, and also threatened.

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Steph and Cass high-fived, and Tim sulked angrily to the bathroom. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror - looking for Tim Drake, failing, as always - before opening it and grabbing his baggie of pills.

He looked at it. He looked at the toilet. He looked at the baggie.

He didn’t flush them. He put them back in the medicine cabinet. Tomorrow. He’ll do them tomorrow. Not today. He can hold out for 24 hours. It’ll be fine.

For a wild, stupid, insane second, Tim wondered if he could say that tomorrow too. If tomorrow he would look at them and say: maybe tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…

If there was a future, for a fuck-up like him.

The faint strains of Cass’ stupid fucking bee documentary began playing through the thin walls of his shitty little apartment, and Tim turned out the lights of his bathroom and closed the door, locking it securely behind him.

#i write a lot of shit i don't post and i don't feel the need to post it a lot of the time #but sometimes im like. ah yeah that does exist maybe they'll care #my writing #tim drake #batman #batfam #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #do not FUCKING get met started on tim cass and steph im OBSESSED

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afni-fics · 4 years ago

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Core Four AU idea: It's still made of Tim, Kon, Cassie, and Bart, but their origins and mentors are scrambled (wip)

(Alt hero names found here: https://afni-fics.tumblr.com/post/645575571700645888/afni-fics)

Tim is mentored under Troia/Donna Troy and Wonder Woman/Diana Prince because it turned out he's the son of Persephone and Hades who was sent to the mortal world to be raised by Jack and Janet Drake because Ares had somehow cursed their child in an attempt to kill him in an attempt to divert some prophecy. The curse made him mortal and weakened his divine powers, but he's still got some. Tim's mortal parents are killed by Ares's minions when he's five, but Donna rescues Tim in time and spirits him away to Themyscira. Because he's just a child, he's allowed to stay there and be trained until he's 13 at which point he returns to the world of man where he lives with Donna as her cousin.

Conner is still a clone, but of Bruce Wayne and Ra's Al Ghul discovered by Batman during a raid on a secret genetic lab in an attempt to make the perfect heir for the League of Assassins. Conner was discovered several months after Jason's death at the hands of the Joker. He was physically aged to around ten years old, but had a critical flaw that had him earmarked the clone as a failure, so Ra's had ordered his "erasure" so they could start over again. Bruce rescued him and destroyed the lab before this could happen. The flaw is the boy was blind. Bruce ends up adopting the boy and trends to be hyper protective of him. However Conner is determined to figure out a way to join Bruce's war against crime (especially Ra's). He develops echo location ability to "see" either through an invention from Lucius Fox or as a surprise meta ability from the Lazarus Pit water used in the cloning process.

Cassie is still a Sandsmark except she's no longer daughter of Zeus, but of Hermes. Her connection to the Speed Force through the Greek God is weird and complicated. Barry and Wally initially don't know what to make of her. She loves the speed and adrenaline of going all out with her powers, but it can make her a little reckless. This makes her and Tim family on the Greek side. They are both first cousins (Hermes and Persephone are half siblings through Zeus) and first cousins once removed (Hermes is Hades's nephew). It's weird but they get it. They are really close and protective of the other and totally thick as thieves.

Bart as Superfam from the future is strange. He's the grandson of Kara Zor-El (Power Girl and Superman's cousin). One of Kara's children fell in love with a descendent of Lex Luthor in a very Shakespearean way from an alternative Earth. He was sent to this Earth because his own was dying due to a Crisis event and several youngsters from his generation were scattered to alternate universes to save their lives. Think end of Krypton, Earth version. At first he tries to keep away from his "family" because he doesn't want to mess too much with their futures (not knowing he's on a completely different Earth). Eventually he's found out and folded into the Kent's family, spending equal time between Smallville and Metropolis. Somehow Luthor discovers Bart is a genetic descendent of his, which sparks his interest/obsession in meeting the strange boy and raises all sorts of red flags with the Supers.

#plot bunny farm #core 4 #tim drake #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #conner kent #alternate universe

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adultswim2021 · 3 years ago

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Tom Goes to the Mayor: “A Look Behind” | June 13, 2005 – 12:30AM | Special

This is going to be a short one, probably! I weirdly wound up making lotsa plans today and I did watch this and I simply don't know what I'll say about it, if much. So this is very much a "type stuff till I'm done" affair (ain't they all?).

This is the making of Tim & Eric's first season of Tom Goes to the Mayor, showing us two little funny boys having fun and being friends and making a wild TV SHOW!! For some reason, I don't remember watching this on television? I don't know why I would have intentionally skipped it, but maybe I was relying on TiVo to tape all my precious eps and somehow this clashed with something else? Maybe the program guide didn't catch it? I probably had a convoluted method for recording Adult Swim shows that caused a problem, I'm GUESSING. I believe that for some reason I didn't see it until DVD.

This whole special is a joy (NOT Peters!) to watch, if you ask me. One of my favorite things is seeing Tim & Eric just giggling with joy (not PETERS!) over the stupid outfit Tim is wearing. Like, they can't stop laughing. It's crazy. These guys are nuts!

I TOLD YOU I WOULDN'T HAVE MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS.

This special is so fun, and it's a shame that it's not on HBOMax. Also: fie upon those who list what disc each special feature resides on DVD. It makes me pissed off that I couldn't simply google which disc this was on, and that this information wasn't listed in the little leaflet that came with the DVD. I did my best guess, was wrong, and then by then my cat had settled into my lap, so I just looked for it on YouTube. It's there! Go watch it there! I promise it's fun!

EPHEMERA CORNER:

youtube

MAIL BAG:

Kon thank you for taking up my slack:

A Look Behind was so seismic for me at the time. I was obsessed with TGTTM/Tim & Eric in that youthful way that I haven't been obsessed with anything since. I can't overstate just how tempted I'd be to commit violent crimes of passion if any other Adult Swim show creators made a special showing off how much fun they were having making their show. Only Tim & Eric baby.

Yeah, though I guess I would compare this to the ATHF extra features where Matt & Dave write a whole script in front of us, which I also loved. It's not the same thing at all, I'm just tryin to compare it to stuff. This special is inspiring in the idea that these two yokels seemed to figure out how to goof around and make it into a TV show and have it not come off completely self-indulgent (though it sorta still is a little).

But what about... "TABLE READ", KON.

#tom goes to the mayor #adult swim #adultswim2021 #Youtube

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timtimmersdrake · 6 years ago

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Lazy Sundays - Tim Drake x Reader

This is completely experimental. I’m not changing this blog to be an imagines blog or anything, but after I read a few posts about mischaracterizations on Tim Drake I wanted to take a stab at writing a Tim imagine with some canon stuff for him. This is also my first imagine, so yeah?

Would love to know how it goes for all of you.

Summary: A lazy Sunday afternoon with Tim at home. The reader likes to tease Tim’s geeky passions. I’m thinking this is set after the Red Robin comics, everyone is alive and Tim is starting to relax after being a tense hero for so long. (Pre-52) (Genderneutral, no Y/N and no ‘you’ character description)

“I guess I’ll…serenade him?”

The incredulous look you got from Tim across the table was almost enough to cause you to break your innocent face.

“You want to what?”

“I’m a bard, right? I’ll serenade him to get across,” You answered a little more confident this time, the laughter building in your chest as Tim stared at you baffled.

“You want to serenade the giant monster to cross the room,” He repeated, looking down at the board and then back up to you.

It was a rare day off for the two of you. Contrary to popular belief, Tim was more than willing to take a Sunday off at home after a long week. Sure, he had work at Wayne enterprises tomorrow and patrol tonight, but he wasn’t doing anything today.

Tim only wore a pair of sweatpants and one of his old high school shirts, one you noted with bemusement that had the sleeves cut haphazardly off.

You had spent the day in, ordering lunch take-out and crashing in Tim’s refurbished movie theater apartment. The place had evidence of the two of you spending the weekend together and Tim’s usual messy vibe. For a hero renowned for being a neat-freak, Timothy Drake was a mess.

You leaned over the table separating the two of you and snatched the pair of dice from his hands.

“Yes, I do,” You state, continuing your amusement.

Timothy Drake was also a massive nerd.

You had come to understand this after a few weeks of dating him. To the public eye, Tim Drake-Wayne was a seventeen-year-old co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises with a cool demeanor and a genius intellect. For the first few dates, that was the person you had gotten to know. Attending galas by his side, going to an occasional restaurant (granted not for very long dinners, you didn’t know why they were so short till later), or visiting him at various charity events he had set up.

That was not the Tim you finally got to know.

Tim Drake had dropped out of high school. Tim Drake was a huge superhero worshiper. And most of all, Tim Drake was a passionate Dungeons and Dragons player.

You’re not as passionate as he is when it came to his geekier loves in life, but for his sake, you tried.

Especially if it gave you opportunities like right now to get him all riled up.

“You cannot be serious,” Tim whines at you, slumping forward as you aim to toss the dice.

“Why not?” You inquire, pausing just long enough to tilt your head playfully.

He threw his hands up in the air, something he had picked up from one of his brothers, Dick if you recalled correctly.

“Because there is probably an infinite number of different strategies that are better than that one?”

“But Ives told me-“

You watch, barely holding in giggles, as Tim puts his head in his hands.

“I’ve been trying to teach you how to play for three months and the one time I let you play with the boys, suddenly you think Ives has better advice? Don’t you remember how that game turned out for him?”

It hadn’t turned out well. But that was mostly because Ives had spent a majority of the game flirting shamelessly with you, much to Tim’s annoyance.

You liked hanging out with Tim’s old high school buddies; they weren’t nearly as intimidating to meet as say, the current Superboy. Yeah, you’ve learned that they were all just normal people behind the costumes, but there was still that superhero reputation that was rather intimidating at first.

Ives and Bernard were harmless compared to the Titans.

“Hmm,” You playfully tap your chin. “Then what do you suggest I do, boy wonder?”

“Maybe use any of the objects you’ve been picking up this whole time and doing nothing with because you have a strange obsession of using your bard singing powers to the max?”

“But I thought that was one of the strongest things a Bard could do?”

Tim slid his chair back.

“Maybe we should figure out dinner instead.”

“Pizza?” You throw out as a suggestion, standing and stretching lazily as you looked out the window. The sun was beginning to set over the skyscrapers, and you knew your time with Tim was becoming limited.

“Sounds like a plan,” Your boyfriend hums, heading towards his cell phone on the kitchen counter.

“I’m not eating that artichoke heart contraption you call food, we’re getting a normal pizza topping.” You grumble, coming up from behind and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Who told you about that?” He asks, amused, looking down over his shoulder at you.

“Kon,” You laugh. “Honestly, it sounds disgusting, how can you even say that order and not think so?

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” He smirks. “How about half and half?”

Wrinkling your nose, you nod at the compromise into his shirt.

You could feel Tim’s laughter reverberate in his chest, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his clear happiness of winning. Sometimes dating a bat sucked.

…

By the time you had eaten, night had finally settled over the city and you could already see Tim beginning to transform into vigilante mode. His voice was steadily dropping as he answered you, and he had already begun typing away at his laptop. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be reaching for the Red Robin mask.

“What is on the agenda tonight?” You finally ask, sliding onto the couch beside him.

“I told Bruce I would help him find an informant for a case. Nothing to major, probably going to be a fairly quiet night.”

“Quiet for Gotham, you mean.” You eye him, snuggling into one of Tim’s hoodies.

He turns to look at you, his eyes softening just a tad.

“Will you go to bed when I leave? Tomorrow’s Monday after all.”

You nod, interlacing your fingers on your knee so you can rest your chin on them and look at Tim as he finished off his final things. It would only be a minute before he would stand and announce it was time for him to suit up.

“Try not to stay up too late,” You murmur.

He doesn’t look at you, but his voice is warm when he responds.

“Like I said, quiet night.”

He finally stands, and you know this is it. Tim leans over, kissing your forehead as he shuts his laptop.

“Be careful,” You remind him, your usual mantra as he packs.

“Always,” He responds the patented Robin cockiness beginning to show.

Just as he is about to leave you lean over the back of the couch, grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him back.

Understanding, Tim leans down once more, his lips connecting with yours lovingly, a comfortable embrace.

That’s when you break the news.

“I rolled an eleven by the way. I totally serenaded the monster to cross the room. Your mage can suck it.”

You laugh as Tim’s groans fill the sound of the apartment.

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #batman #dc reader imagines #batboy x reader #red robin x reader #red robin #this is totally an experiment like I said

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