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#let tim live
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*Batfam and Phantom meeting during a fight with a ghostly big bad*
Phantom: Okay, who has the most control over thier anger?
*Everyone argues*
Phantom: okay, you. *points at RR* whats you're favorite food in the whole world?
Red Robin: Its not really a food but I love coffee
Phantom: Cool, that works. *slaps amulet of Aragon onto him*
Batfam:
Red Robin:
Phantom: Now, think of something that makes you angry
*later*
Phantom: So I kinda turned one of your children into a rage filled dragon
Batman:
Batman: You did what?
Phantom: Its okay, we got him to turn back by getting him to drink a giant cup of coffee
Batman:
Phantom: but we screwed up and needed more so now your son is swimming in a pool full of coffee
Batman:
Phantom: Please come get him he refuses to get out
Red Robin: *living out his coffee based fantasies*
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noisilyscreechingsong · 9 months
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Eyes
Dp x Dc Crossover Writing Idea
“Red Robin!”
When he backtracked to find the owner of the voice he was a bit surprised to find a young boy, maybe eight years old if he had to guess, dressed in a red sweatshirt that dwarfed him and a pair of gym shorts that had seen better days.
Not many Gothamites called out to the vigilantes, a silent agreement to stay out of their way and not to look too closely. This kid however stared up at him with bright blue eyes unafraid of getting the Red Robin’s attention.
A fan?
Before he even opens his mouth, the kid gives him a small, hopeful smile, eyes shining with something that reminds him of himself when he was that age and following Batman and Robin with his camera around his tiny neck.
“I brought you a gift,” the boy say with nervous excitement. He enthusiastically swings off the backpack he had on to dig through the contents, taking his eyes off the vigilante and showing his unwavering trust that nothing bad would happen to him while Red Robin was here.
The boy pulls out what appears to be a jar wrapped in newspaper, the worn page ripping in some spots to show the clear glass underneath. Small hands present it like it’s Red Robin’s birthday (which it wasn’t).
He takes it cautiously, the kid hasn’t been hostile but this was still weird, and pulls it closer with enough space so if it’s a bomb it doesn’t blow up in his face.
It’s got weight to it and the slight sloshing tells him it’s filled with liquid. He carefully unwraps the ‘gift’, keeping his eye on the boy who stands waiting anxiously.
Tim almost drops the jar as soon as he sees what’s inside. Only his reflexes from over the years held on and his expression turned neutral.
A pair of eyes sit at the bottom of the jar. The orbs were crudely extracted, tissue floating around them like a mane of hair around a head.
He turns the jar to see the irises and… he knew these eyes. The slimy green is filmed with death, but he recognized these eyes from the number of times the owner locked them onto him, the cruel possessiveness they possessed when they gazed at him. Never again apparently.
Tim doesn’t speak for a while, not knowing what to say, but also thoughts racing too fast to form any proper sentences.
“Do you like it?” The small, nervous voice interrupts those thoughts.
What an innocent question on an equally innocent looking face.
“How did you get Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes?”
The teasing chatter over the comms immediately hushes into shocked silence.
“I took them from his body, so you knew he was dead. I burned the rest so you don’t have to worry about him coming back again. The Pit there is gone anyway,” the child explains easily, not fazed in the slightest from the words he speaks.
“Grandfather is dead?” He hears Damian whisper over the comm.
So many other questions were flying through Tim’s head. He looks the kid over again.
Black hair and blue eyes. In any other situation the kid might have been a possible Wayne adoptee. He’s not a clone from what he can see though. Despite the coloring he doesn’t really look like any of them. Pale skin like Tim, but has freckles. The same kind of nose as Damian, but wide, round eyes. Jaw kind of like Jason, but his body shape is too narrow. Bright, almost icy blue eyes like Dick, but eyebrow shape is flatter. Lip shape like Bruce, but from the kid’s anxious lip biting he could see the faintest trace of dimples.
“Who are you?” He asks instead of the other million and one questions.
The boy blinks almost like he wasn’t expecting the question. He’s cheeks color pink with blush as he grins widely.
“I’m Danny!” He introduces cheerfully like he didn’t just hand a vigilante a jar of eyes.
“Hi, Danny,” Tim greets almost dumbly. “Want to tell me why you gave me this?”
Danny scoffs his shoe against the pavement in what appears to be embarrassment.
“Well, I know when you ask someone for something, it’s nice to give a gift or something. Like I did something nice for you so maybe you’ll do something nice for me?”
He takes a moment to absorb that child-like reasoning.
“So you want me to do something for you and you thought I would like Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes in exchange?”
Danny studies him and fidgets with the large sweatshirt sleeve.
“I just thought you would like proof. Like the whole ‘bring me the heart of my enemy’ kind of thing. Do you not like it? I couldn’t just take a picture ‘cuz I didn’t have a camera with me, I know you like photography. I can do something else for you if it’s not enough,” he offers worriedly.
Tim freezes.
“How do you know I like photography?” He demands.
Danny tilts his head curiously.
“Because Tim Drake likes photography,” he says like it’s obvious, “and you’re Tim Drake.”
Well. This is less than ideal.
“Red Robin, take him back to the Cave,” Batman instructs over the comms.
Yeah, he was getting there.
“Do you know the other’s’ identities?”
Danny nods and hums affirmatively. Tim waits.
“Oh! Yea. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne. Red Hood is Jason Todd. Nightwing is Richard Grey-“
“Okay. That’s enough.”
Tim glances around the empty alley they were standing in, checking to make sure no stray people heard. Luckily they were truly alone.
“Danny, do you want to come back with me?” He asks, but it’s not really a question. The kid was coming back regardless, it would just be better if he went willingly.
Unsurprisingly, the kid lights up like a little sun at the offer.
“Really?” He nearly shouts in excitement.
“Yeah, kid. I parked my bike a few blocks from here. You ever rode a motorcycle before?”
Danny shakes his head, nearly bounding on his toes.
“Not in this lifetime.” And wasn’t that odd wording? “Are we gonna grapple there?”
“Think you can hold on?”
“Yeah!”
He kneels down so the boy can climb onto his back and lock his arms around his neck and hook his feet together around his torso. Danny is worryingly light as he stands.
The kid is the picture of an excited and overeager child as they carefully fly over rooftops and then drive back to the Cave. Even when they park inside the safety of the Batcave, Danny’s eyes are filled with child-like awe and wonder, so curious and chattering with questions and wild imagination. It would be cute, endearing even, if the jar of eyes wasn’t sitting heavily in his pocket.
Alfred came down not too long after their arrival with a tray of healthy snacks and some waters. Danny happily munches on the apple slices as he wanders around where Tim can see him.
The rumble of the Batmobile can be heard almost an hour later after Tim has to tell Danny not to touch the weapons for the fourth time. The kid’s attention is drawn to the sleek black vehicle as it parks by Tim’s bike. He trots over with wide eyes as the doors open and Robin exits, then Batman.
Unfortunately, Dick is in Bludhaven and Jason is visiting Roy and Lian this week. Cass and Steph were gone as well and Duke was sleeping. It was just the three of them and this kid with Alfred as the only buffer.
Danny stares openly, curious, as the duo makes their way over to the computer where Tim has claimed his sit.
Tim turns the jar that he set on the table so the eyes are facing them and slowly leans back again, suddenly very tired. Damian flexes his hands into fists tightly while Batman is very still.
“Hi,” Danny chirps like nothing is wrong, oblivious to the tension in the air.
Batman takes a measured breath. Robin glares down at the child, but remains silent for now.
“Who killed Ra’s Al Ghul?”
Danny blinks blankly.
“Nobody.”
“You’re saying he just dropped dead?” Damian sneered in sarcasm.
“Death took him,” the child says simply as if that explained everything.
“How?” The word is demanded and emphasized.
“Like Death takes everyone. His expiration was overdue.”
Bruce frowns and Damian almost snarls.
“I demand you start making sense!”
Danny glares back in offense.
“I’m being very clear! Maybe you should ask better questions!”
The twelve year old growls at the smaller child and Batman has to place a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from attacking.
“Danny?” Batman questions after a tense moment.
The boy’s arms are crossed in irritation, but he blinks out of his glare to stare up at the man.
“Yea?”
“How do you know our identities?”
“Oh, memories.”
Danny looked like everything he said made sense and it was driving Tim up a wall.
“Memories,” Bruce repeats.
“Uh-huh,” Danny nods confidently. “From the Lazarus Pit.”
A jolt goes through Tim as he recalls what the boy said earlier about the Pit.
“Didn’t you say the Pit was gone?” He asks before Bruce could continue his line of questioning.
Danny turns with a bright smile as if he was proud Tim remembered.
“Yea! Well, gone from this world anyway.” Tim was concerned. “I took the memories from it before sending it back where it belongs.”
“Okay. How did you know how to ‘take the memories’ and send it back? Back where?”
“I was born from it. Duh. It went back to the Realms or I guess you’d call it the Afterlife,” Danny actually rolls his eyes as if they should already know this.
“Born from it?” Damian asks with a wavering voice, hidden well from the child but not from them. “Nothing has ever been born from the Pits.”
“That you know of.”
And wasn’t that the kicker.
“So, to clarify, you come from the Pits. You know who we are because you took the memories from said Pits. Death took Ra’s because his time was up. And you took the eyes from his corpse to give to me because you thought I would like it as a gift so I would do something for you.”
Danny positively beams.
“This is why you’re my favorite!”
Damian grinds his teeth harshly.
“What is it you want Red Robin to do for you?” Batman asks in strangled hesitation.
“Oh!” Danny perks up like he remembered and hops over to Tim with pleading hands. “Can you please make me an identity? You’re really good at all that stuff and I was hoping you could find me a family. Someone to adopt me. A nice family, with a bed and family dinners and a dog. I always wanted a dog.”
Tim has the sudden urge to scream.
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nerdpoe · 7 months
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Danny has too much on his plate to care about anything past paperwork and schoolwork, so he shoves the weird shit onto Tucker and Sam.
And Tucker and Sam, upon realizing that Danny can be summoned at any time, decide to fuck around.
Now, if anyone wants to summon the High King of the Infinite Realms, they have to say the entire chant in UwU.
But if they're doing it on a Thursday, it has to be in OwO.
BUT if they're doing it on the fifteeth of any month it has to be in pig latin.
If the Fifteen falls on a Thursday, pig latin in esperanto.
If the fifteenth falls on a Wednesday, then it has to be in interpretive dance.
The offerings are the following;
Monday; Pot Roast
Tuesday; case of soda
Wednesday; $30,000
Thursday; Pizza coupons
Friday; cheese
Saturday; cars
Sunday; the most up to date hand built computer
if any of these days is the fifteenth, the offering must be one of the ones mentioned above and also some cool bones.
All offerings must be performed in the ceremonial garb of dressing up as a being from another wor-cosplay. it's fucking cosplay.
As far as Sam and Tucker are concerned, job done. It's so weirdly specific and offputting that no one will summon Danny.
Danny, on the other hand, manages to get summoned by some weird blond guy speaking in OwO, dressed as a catgirl from some anime, in a circle made of pizza coupons.
The cosplayers look just as shocked to see him.
Meanwhile, Bruce is getting frantic calls from Tim that GothCon (some Anime Convention held in Gotham every year) is currently playing host to some sort of interdimensional being.
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robjn93 · 1 month
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the thing about jason’s ‘brotherly bond’ with tim is that everytime it only benefits jason. its only about ‘making jason’s story richer’ and never about benefiting tim, who’s characterization got completely ruined to favor the role of jason’s caretaker when ‘big bad brucie makes jason mad’. genuinely is there a scenario when they ‘act like brothers’ when its not either fanfic bs or tim telling jason, in the year of our lord 2024, that its okay that he died in a comic back in 1988? tim never benefits from this relationship, its always about jason. and im not only talking about fanfics anymore because, to my dismay, the canon is now strongly influenced by fanon and we are getting comics like ‘knight terrors’ where tim tells jason that ‘he is not a failure’. tim. timothy jackson drake. the same dude that blatantly told jason, as he was getting beaten up, that he is still better than him? that dunk on him whenever?
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ew-selfish-art · 3 months
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DP x DC AU: Danny desperately wants to find the explosion guy. Tim is really good at covering his tracks... he didn't account for ghosts.
The explosions make it onto TV as purported terror activity and most people haven't heard of that part of the world much less ever given a second thought to care about it. The only real reason it gets reported on has something to do with the Justice League and... Danny knows too much.
He's been in training for Clockwork's court (which he's suspicious of- feels like kingly duty bullshit- but Danny is playing along out of curiosity for now) and he's learned a lot about how the living and non-living worlds collide. That means learning about CW's usual suspects- one of which just happened to have a ton of bases around the area Danny was seeing on the news.
It didn't take long for Danny to try to piece together that whoever blew up Nanda Parbat was trying to fuck with the League of Shadows, and was doing it successfully. Less green portals in the world the better, same goes for assassins. But it gets Danny thinking... Maybe he can employ similar tactics on the GIW Bases that keep spawning on the edges of Amity Park. It would at least set them back while he and his friends navigated the help line desk to request Justice League intervention. None of them can leave Amity Park, so outreach is going to have to be creative.
So Danny figures he'll just find the guy. Call up some ghosts who were there, or er, came from there and get a profile and track him down. But the ghosts keep saying it was The Detective. Annoying!
Danny goes full conspiracy theory, gets Tucker and Sam involved, and begrudgingly asks Wes Weston his thoughts.
He hadn't expected Wes to garble out a thirty minute presentation (that had 100 more slides left to go before he cut it off) about how Batman totally trained with a cult and so did his kids. Danny kind of rolled his eyes but... hey, new avenue of searching in the Infinite Realms at least.
The ghosts confirm that Bombs is for sure not Batman's MO- But maybe his second kid would know? The second kid was already brought back to life though, so no way to easily reach him... Danny starts to realize that this might be the work of a Robin now. Wasn't the red one known for solving cold cases? (Sam provides this information- its a social faux pas to not know hero gossip at Gotham Galas- everything she's learned is against her will).
It all comes to a head when Danny goes about the hard task of opening a portal for the guy to come through at just the right time, explain the infinite realms so he doesn't panic and then describe what the fuck was going on with the GIW. It takes months, just over a full year, of random (educated guesses) portal generating- Finally, Red Robin drops into the land of the dead.
"So, you're the guy I've got to talk to about explosions right?" Danny enthusiastically asks.
Tim thinks he's died and landed in the after life following 56 hours of being awake and plummeting off the side of a building into a Lazarus pool. Nothing makes sense about the kid in front of him.
"Yeah, I got a guy for munitions." Tim answers cooly.
"How do you feel about secretly sanctioned government operations that violate protected rights?"
"Gotta get rid of 'em some how. Need me to point you in the right direction?" This might as well be happening.
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phantom-0-writer · 6 months
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I actually thought of this prompt like forever ago and i rly wanted to write a whole story for it but i couldn't think of a plot that would stick to it and make sense without adding too many outside elements and in my opinion over saturating the story. BUT i do have a bunch of scenes of danny and damian in my head about this also also some danny and other batfam members.
So anyways your order has been delivered...
original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program
scene two: tim's arch nemesis
table of contents
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scene 01: damian's not-so-very-bad day
“Father, you wanted to speak with me.” Damian said, trugging into his Father’s study late into the afternoon per Pennyworth’s behest. 
Father looked up from his work at Damian’s arrival, Drake gave him a look of annoyance that Damian returned with a sneer. “Damian.” Father greeted as he reached Father’s work station. “I spoke with your principal earlier today.” Damian huffed and crossed his arms in defiance at whatever accusation he was about to be handed, “Put your frown away, you're not in trouble.” Father chuckled lightly. 
Damian frowned. He was not a child, he did not need to be treated like one. 
“There’s a mentorship program at your school.” Father started, Damian raised an intrigued brow at him. 
Perhaps Father had succeeded in seeing his potential, “Well I suppose I wouldn’t mind mentoring one of the many underlings at the so-called academy.” Damian sighed, letting his arms fall to his side, as he looked up at his Father. 
Father blinked at him, processing what he had said, then glanced at Drake who looked like a fraying rope length away from bursting into laughter. “The mentorship program… it’s for you.” Father tried hesitantly. 
“Yes.” Damian nodded in understanding. 
There was an uncomfortable silence from Father.
“He means that you're the one getting mentored.” Drake laughed at him, shoulders shaking. 
Damian turned to Father. But the denial never came. “What!” Damian couldn’t help scream in outrage. “You want me to get mentored by some hillbilly civilian who can't tell a katana from a wakizashi?” He slammed his hands on Father’s table. 
Father looked at him with disapproval, but said nothing, not caring enough to discipline Damian. 
“Hillbilly civilian.” Drake croaked from the corner of the room, draping himself dramatically over one of the side sofas. 
“You’re to meet him first thing tomorrow when you get to school. Here’s his student profile, if you're interested.” Father handed him a singular paper. 
“Father I do not need-” 
“It’s already been arranged Damian, atleast give it a try.” Father said with a sigh, picking up his files again in a silent dismissal of Damian. 
The paper crumpled slightly as Damian stormed to his room.  
Daniel James Fenton. 
“Let’s see how long you last.” Damian eyed the picture of the smiling teen. 
---
“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Pennyworth bid, as they all got out of the car. 
“Later, Alfred.” Thomas waved at the butler as he drove off. 
They all walked in the same direction to enter their classrooms, when Drake stopped him in his path. “Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” he asked cheekily.
“Tsk.” He was hoping to be able to make it to his class before the others noticed, then continue to evade the principal and other faculty if need be required. To be foiled so early into his plan, furthermore by Drake, was humiliating. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” Drake continued to smother his victory over Damian. 
“I was just on my way.” He huffed, turning around annoyed. Drake and Thomas snickered as he retreated. 
Damian knocked on the familiar oak doors. “Come in.” Mr. Carson called from the other side. Damian entered, and plopped down on the same chair he sat in every time he had been sent here. “Ah Damian. Goodmorning.” He waited for a reply, but when he realized he wouldn’t be getting one he continued on, “Mr. Fenton should be here any minute, but I’m glad you were able to come here on your own accord.” Mr. Carson talked as he hung up his jacket and took a seat at his chair. 
Damian could only watch the seconds tick by as he sat in that office. He wondered absentmindedly if Fenton didn’t show up would he be free. The knock at the door decimated all hopes Damian had for that. 
“Ah, that must be Mr. Fenton.” Mr. Carson mused out loud, “Come in.” 
Fenton entered the room hesitantly, greeting Mr. Carson with a small smile. Fenton was a scholarship student and held reasonable grades so his intellect was not to be underestimated, though often simply being able to score well on tests did not translate to having adequate life skills. Fenton was taller than Drake, but still average, dark hair, tanned skin, gray-blue eyes. When Damian’s supposed mentor looked at Damian for the first time since he had entered the room, Damian couldn’t help but feel like he was caught in a stare off with a beast. 
The way Fenton examined his surroundings reminded Damian of the League of Assassins. Careful, analytical and tactical. All things Damian had excelled in. But there was something different about Fenton than what Damian had often seen in the League. His eyes were softer than those that had trained Damian. Damian couldn’t understand why his eyes looked like that. 
Fenton smiled at him in a way that was likely meant to be kind, “Hi, you must be Damian. I’m Danny.” He stuck out his hand for Damian to shake. 
Damian did not take the hand, instead he turned to principal Carson, “When can I leave?” He asked board, subtly eying Fenton’s reaction in his peripheral vision. 
“We have to iron out the finer details and the both of you will be free to go until we see each other for our weekly check in every Friday.” Principal Carson started, “Mr. Fenton why don’t you take a seat. 
Undeterred by Damian’s lack of interest, Fenton took a seat. Mr. Carson explained to Fenton his responsibilities as a mentor and what would be expected of him, Fenton in turn nodded along attentively. After his long explanation of the whole program the both of them were free from his office, and excused from classes until lunch to “get to know each other better”.
Damian translated that to having until lunch to show Fenton that he was out of his depth and have him running with his tail between his legs. 
“So…” Fenton drawled trying to buy time to think of something adequate to say no doubt, “How about we go to the library to hang out?” Fenton offered. 
Damian simply huffed in agreement as they made their way to a pair of sofas tucked between the many rows of books. 
“So, Damian, uh, what do you like to do after school?” Fenton asked unoriginally. 
Damian turned so he could meet Fenton eye-to-eye. “Train.” He said honestly. If he plans on scaring him off then leaning into the superficial things he learned in the League would do him well. 
“Oh, you do sports?” Fenton asked inquisitively. Damian was momentarily thrown off by his show of genuine interest in his personal life, but Damian quickly collected himself. Fenton was merely putting on an act to get him to open up, Damian would be a fool to fall for it. 
“No.” He scoffed at the thought of sports, “I train for battle,” He made sure to put as much confidence as he could in his voice. Oftentimes in the past when he had told his peers of his activities they had brushed him off and laughed at him, Damian wondered if Fenton would have a similar reaction. 
“Hardcore.” Fenton nodded in awe.
Damian blinked, “You believe me?” He found himself whispering. 
“Well, yeah.” Fenton responded as if it were the most obvious thing, in fact, he seemed confused as Damian’s bafflement. 
Damian quickly collected himself, “Well of course you should believe me it’s the truth, I’m a highly skilled blade user.” He nodded to himself. 
“Blade user, huh? Do you prefer katanas or wakizashi? Or a classic long sword maybe.” Fenton asked eying Damian as if it would help him find the correct answer. 
“Katanas obviously.” Damian scoffed, “They’re incredibly balanced, strong, and give you incredible control over your attacks. Wakizashi are also a good option if you prefer close combat and if you’re fighting in an area with a lot of obstacles.” Fenton hummed and nodded at his explanation, and Damian found himself continuing, “Long swords are originally from the Bavaria and Switzerland regions during the medieval times-”
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allthegothihopgirls · 24 days
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i think it would have been funny if tim, after discovering his bisexuality and thinking that was the 'unique feature' he brought to his iteration of robin, mentioned this to the rest of batfam, only to find out they've all been some degree of queer this whole time.
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On Tim's Boat
*Tim and Bernard are laying in bed sleeping, limbs entangled as Bernard sleeps on Tim's chest*
*at 3:47am Bernard is awoken*
Bernard, swatting Tim as he is squinting in the dark: Hey grasshopper? Is that a sleep paralysis demon-
Tim, shifting slightly, eyes still shut, basically sleepy mumbling: you wouldn't be hitting me, you'd be paralyzed
Bernard: then I think someone is stealing clothes from our closet
Tim, running his hand through Bernard's hair so Bernard knows he is listening: don't know why, we are the pits of fashion, they should be stealing from Sophie and Louie's closet, or even Tammy and Lauren's closet
Bernard: is that... Robin?
Tim, wide awake now, swiveling his head towards the closet: WHAT?
Damian, standing there in a Robin outfit looking through their clothes in the closet, gathering a pile on his arm: Your father wants you to call him, Drake
Bernard: Robin works for Bruce? Actually, that's not surprising.
Robin, walking out with a pile of clothes on his arm: I am confiscating these *walks out the door*
Bernard:
Tim:
Bernard:
Tim:
Bernard: Guess you could say he was... Robin us.
Tim: You're lucky I love you
Edit: Part 2
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cosmosnout · 8 months
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They had to nuke Sasha bc she would have solved everything in like a week. Fly high queen
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hearts4robs · 2 months
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This sounds disgusting but the nickname ‘mama’ is so fucking attractive it’s making me lose my mind
Same with ‘gorgeous’ and ‘luv’ (I don’t want that “loveeee” I want “ey, come on luv’!” kinda shit)
It’s just so BAGAHSJDKANKEOFOD
Like, the way beast boy calls Raven ‘mama’ throughout teen titans is so RATWRMGKGHHIKS
I’m shaking and quivering and foaming at the mouth y’all
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fumifooms · 5 months
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My world shattering when I realize that Chilchuck is underweight
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Post-canon Chilchuck stops dieting and gains weight real
Edit: I am going to SCREAM
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Theres a new mom and pop coffee shop in Gotham that's doing pretty well. The place has a casual playful vibe but it only ever has one employee, which has lead to it having a bit of a urban myth status.
He's there through all the opening hours and no one ever sees him come or go, only the lights switching off and the teen disappearing.
It probably doesn't help that the shop has a ghost themed name.
His name tag reads, "Nightingale" and he always has a polite smile, but the few who dare to act out in his shop notice his eyes flash a particular shade of green and are suddenly overcome with the feeling that they're being stared down by a large apex predator and a sickening sense of dread.
Needless to say people behave in his shop.
Whats more is that his store shows up on county records just fine, but if you try to look into anything your computer glitches out and you can't find anything. Obviously "Nightingale" can't be the owner, he looks only 15. Some say he's a vampire, others say he's a zombie like Red Hood.
Tim doesn't care what he is because the first time he entered at night as Red Robin the guy immediately started making a coffee were he could see, made it exactly how he liked it and gave it to him before he even had the chance to order. Then he refused his money, saying it was on the house.
None of the people waiting in line argued or were upset and Tim was unsure if that was because he was a well known Gotham vigilante or it Nightingales reputation protected him.
Either way the coffee was delicious.
Tim didn't know how to feel when he found out his family was investigating the "possible runaway" who worked at the coffee shop.
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arbor-tristis · 2 months
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You ever seen a pair of big brown eyes behind big brown glasses so beautiful you forgot baby boy was a gay republican????? It's more common than you think
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(not my gif)
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introspectivememories · 10 months
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bernard working out: oh hi babe! i'll be done soon okay?
tim biting his knuckles to keep from screaming: hnnng big biceppps,,,,,, could pick me up.... 6-packkkkk..... so strooonggg,,,,,, gonna bury my face in his chest
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timslaughlin · 21 days
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More photos of Tim's SF apartment from set designer Anastasia Masaro's Instagram.
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mmmthornton · 2 months
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I'm collecting supporting evidence for my argument that Chilchuck Tims needs a Medical Halfling Leaf Card REAL bad:
(I might write something about this later)
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He's supposed to be the same fantasy race as these guys, you tell me that man doesn't need some pipeweed STAT.
youtube
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