Bruce: It's pride month Tim
Tim: What? So you want me to solve crimes gayly??11/1/1!?!?!
Bruce: ... Tim: ... Bruce: ... Tim: Ok.
Bruce: ?????
Tim:
Bruce: ??
I like to imagine that Matt Fraction's Batman #9 happened in june cause why not.
I'd rather be in outer space šø

Discoholic šŖ©
Misplaced Lens Cap

if i look back, i am lost
Keni
noise dept.
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Claire Keane

ā

ā

ellievsbear
One Nice Bug Per Day
YOU ARE THE REASON

titsay

pixel skylines
tumblr dot com

izzy's playlists!
h

blake kathryn

oozey mess

seen from Hong Kong SAR China

seen from United States
seen from South Korea

seen from United States

seen from India
seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from United States
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@matrixx-level
Bruce: It's pride month Tim
Tim: What? So you want me to solve crimes gayly??11/1/1!?!?!
Bruce: ... Tim: ... Bruce: ... Tim: Ok.
Bruce: ?????
Tim:
Bruce: ??
I like to imagine that Matt Fraction's Batman #9 happened in june cause why not.
ok so expansion on the fake dating au cuz you guys maybe liked it and someone reblogged it with the most wonderful compliments and yeah omgee i love them-
āTim! Mr. Tim Drake-Wayne! Who was that mysterious boy you were seen with at the previous Wayne Gala hosted for womenās shelters?ā a voice screams out from within the crowd, as reporters and paparazzis alike rapidly snap pictures on either side of the red carpet leading into Wayne Manor.
Tim snaps his head over to the right where he heard the voice, and smiles a big, ditzy grin he had practiced in the mirror before getting ready for this as he walks over to the journalist he assumes it to be. He grabs their microphone, and shouts right into the camera so as to be heard over the deafening cacophony, āHis name is Bernard Dowd, and heās my boyfriend!ā
He lets go of the microphone with fluttering lashes and a wiggle of his fingers, dashing up the rest of the stairs to catch up with his family, who were already well through the doors. He had almost laughed at the journalistās frozen shocked face, before letting slip a low giggle at the renewed frenzy from the crowd who had heard his explanation, his name ringing through the air as it followed him into the gala.
It only takes a minute before he hears his name shouted again, but this time, from a voice he wants to hear. A voice that he canāt wait to familiarize himself with.
āTim!ā Bernard calls, shuffling through the crowd of elites and celebrities with an equally manic smile that matches how Tim is feeling on the inside as he makes his way over to him.
Truthfully, Tim hasnāt stopped feeling this giddy since he and Bernard had concocted their plan and had impulsively followed through with it. Heās never felt like this before, never just- done something because had wanted to, because he had wanted to be reckless and stupid with a friend. Before- well, before Robin, Timās only friends had been the occasional acquaintances at school, his camera, and spiritually, Batman and the second Robin. That hadnāt changed once he had gotten the mantle. He was too busy training to be worthy of the mask, of the insignia on his chest, of the heavy boots he had to fill.
And he had to fill them. For Batman. Because a Batman without a Robin isā¦itās unacceptable. Incomprehensible. So Tim had made it happen, with his own bare hands and sheer stubborn will. In the middle of all of that, where would there be time for friends, or mischief, or teenage shenanigans? There wasnāt. That had never existed for Tim. So maybe, that was why it had been so easy. He hadnāt really known thatās what he was doing.
He had justā¦looked into Bernardās eyes, and he had seen a sparkling cosmos full of possibilities, and he hadnāt been able to help himself from spitting out the first idea he had thought of with no regard to the consequences. He had been drawn in by Bernardās charm- his loud, confident personality, his inability to mind a personās personal space- (if he wasnāt slinging an around around Timās shoulder or squeezing his forearm or tugging on his hand, then he was ruffling his hair or knocking their dress shoes together or poking Timās cheek to make him scrunch up his nose and huff out a laugh), his brash, dry humor, his unhinged, startlingly-insightful theories that made Tim just want to give him a tinfoil hat-
And really, when Tim had complained about being almost overstimulated from all the noise and shiny things (he made possibly had had a light concussion at the time as well. or a headache, it was probably just a headache-), Bernardās expression had softened, in a way that it hadnāt in the hours that he and Tim had talked in their secluded corner, and he hadnāt bumped their shoulders together with a knowing smile as he had asked if he wanted to get out of there.
Tim had held his gaze, his heart had squeezed and skipped a beat, and really, he couldnāt have helped the way he tongue had loosened as the last of his braincells had vacated.
So anyway, all this to say, in the present where Bernard is sort of run-walking towards him in a polite but also hurried way, Tim reaches a hand out and Bernard takes it, tugging Tim into a hug. He whispers into Timās ear, āMy parents hate that I might have a supposed boyfriend. Think we should kiss in front of them?ā
He pulled back with that same mischievous glint in his eye and that same, crazy smile that looked like it made his face hurt, and Tim could only helplessly, fondly, smile back as his ears flushed red.
He nodded.
āYes. Yes, we should.ā
Heās not gay. Somehow, in the weeks since the last gala, heās completely avoided any and all conversation about the possibility with his family, even despite their nagging and not-so-subtle hints and looks. Mostly, he knows that theyāre a bit hurt he hadnāt told them before letting the public see. And obviously he doesnāt want to talk to them about it because thereās nothing to talk about but alsoā¦he just doesnāt want to. For some reason, this entirely new and exciting and strange thing with Bernard feelsā¦private, even though the whole point of it is that itās so incredibly public even your grandma knows about it. But. Bernard leads him further into the gala and they both grab some sparkling water on their way to the hors d'oeuvres table and he keeps hold of Timās hand as he keeps looking back at him with a smile, a dazzling, shy smile with accompanying blush on his cheeks, and Tim just. Why would he tell his family about that? About this?
About Bernardās blonde lashes as they tickle his cheeks when he blinks rapidly after hearing something particularly stupid, about the way Bernard sucks on part of his bottom lip while he thinks deeply, his eyes narrowed and piercing. About how Bernard passes Tim a small plate of cucumber sandwiches because he somehow already knows Tim loves cucumber even though he never mentioned it, and about how he almost accidentally bumps into a beautiful 30-something year old and immediately winks at her once he gets a good look at her face, only simpering at her more when she acts all bashful accordingly.
No. No, thereās nothing to tell. Timās not gay, and this is just a ruse so he and Bernard can keep doing what they want when they can get away with it. It could possibly be a very long term thing that Tim could make use of for Robin. And. And. And.
Bernard holds out his hand for Tim to take so they can dance to the music, so they can waltz under the glittering chandeliers and in amongst all the other couples standing close with their hands on each otherās waists. Heās grinning and heās giggling at the ridiculousness of this whole thing and so is Tim and Tim doesnāt even notice heās grabbing hold of Bernard until heās already being pulled into a spin, their steps shadowing each otherās in perfect sync like theyād already done this a million times before. Like this was their tenth gala together instead of their second, like they were meant to be. Like the way that Bernard looked down at him from his two inches above him with his shining hazels and his raised blonde brows and his perfect, perfect grin was real. Like they were the only real thing in a room full of fakes.
Like theyāre two young boys in love, who will escape together for a second time once theyāve tired of the dancing and the mingling.
Tim isnāt gay, and this isnāt real.
But maybe, as he and Bernard twirl and spin together, chests pressed tightly against each other, hands clasped and arms wrapped close, as the songs wind down and they giggle and gasp for air even though Tim has done worse fighting against Killer Croc, as they finish downing their drinks and shovel the food into their mouths, as they try and sneak away hand in hand, again, much to Bruceās chagrin from what Tim can see of his face before theyāre out of sight-
Maybe, as he and Bernard run run run as far as they can, their laughter lighting up the evening with something like friendship (something like love-) and their hands never letting go of each other, maybe itās the most real thing Tim had ever felt in his life.
Maybe the freedom of falling through the air with his grapple clutched tight in his hand as the wind and the ground come rushing up to greet him as he patrols as Robin, has nothing on Bernardās arms wrapped tight around him as they pretend this is the only embrace they could ever need (as they pretend they donāt want to press their foreheads together, their noses close and brushing, their breaths warm and mingling, their lips-)
Maybe this is what true freedom is.
ive kind of had this niggling brain worm since i started thinking of timbern but idkā¦.
league au where instead of bern getting caught up in a pain cult because he lost the two people he cared the most about, he and tim both get kidnapped before darla ever get shot and theyāre trained and molded into league of shadows assassins. initially ofc bernard was just kidnapped as leverage against tim, but then he fights back, and he and tim naturally fight side by side, back to back, gravitating towards each other and raās gets to thinking. the detective was his goal, the detective would always be his goal. infinitely more interesting than his other siblings (other than damian of course, who had only recently joined the bat family), with bruce a semi-close second. but if the detectiveāsā¦friendā¦was to be by his side, if the detective found this bernard dowd interesting enough to keep, then who was raās to dismiss his usefulness?
so he trains them together. he picks their brains apart, he tests them. and of course, the detective is as he has always been since raās first met him- since he met this child who was smarter than the batman. heās strong, and heās fast, and heās well trained, and he sees through all of raās schemes. he knows most of his tricks and traps by now, and he helps his friend through it all. yes, he and bernard, fighting against the odds, looking to each other when things get hard, when they get brutal. itās as if they canāt help by search for the otherās gaze, canāt help but reach out and try and help. wipe away the blood, soothe the bruises.
bernard is, of course, squishy. heās too human and faulty and ignorant. raās was expecting this and it still makes his lips curl when he watches him. but still. there is something there. a sliver of potential. in the way that bernard of course does not known raās like tim does, but he still sees through him with piercing hazel eyes, a gaze so sharp it could sharpen his sword for him. raās was almost caught off the guard the first time he noticed that glare- almost put off his rhythm by those knowing eyes peering into his blackened shredded soul. but he is raās al ghoul, so he does not trip. does not falter. simply orders the boy to go again. go through the training course again, pick up his sword again, arrange the throwing knives again, go through the motions of that particular fighting stance again.
and truly, he had not expected the boy to do so well at chess.
the white and black pieces fight for space and bernard places his piece in checkmate and raās tries not to clench his jaw because he is the demon head and the demon head does not clench his jaw when he unexpectedly loses chess to a 17 year old nobody child. no. he simply challenges the boy to another game. and then another. and another.
while he has the detective and mr. dowd within his iron grasp, the batman is scrambling all over gotham, searching for his missing robin, and so is his gaggle of other children raās is sure. he is sure that by the end of the second week he will get a phone call. and he will be sure to answer it with a grin full of half-rotted, green-stained teeth.
in his endeavor to ensure the boysā full cooperation, he had tore mr. dowd open- mostly because the detective had been the capable one before raās had made something anew out of mr. dowd. but then because he had re-built mr. dowd from the ground up, the boy had of course, become a creature of malice and brutality, so he had threatened him as well by slicing the detective through. it was really quite easy, they cared so much for each other. it was almost sickening if raās didnāt begrudgingly respect that which the detective loved and cared for. especially a squishy human such as mr. dowd who had proven himself quiteā¦unordinary.
raās received his phone call. right on schedule, even. how unfortunately predictable. if it had been the detective on the line, raās was sure that he at least would have called a day earlier. or maybe a day later, depending on how thoroughly he would have searched gotham, and how many contacts he would have called. nonetheless, it did not matter anyway. raās had lied through his teeth about having tim drake-wayne in his clutches and he knew that meant the batman was on his way to him. most likely with an entire calvary to ensure the safety of his son.
no matter. raās had his fun. and he has made something at least half-worthy out of the detectiveāsā¦friend.
sometimes, heāll see them together, when there is a rare, small moment of respite. they stand close, and mr. dowd slings his arm around the detectiveās shoulder, their bodies close and their hair entwining as they press their heads together. and itās quiet, as they simply hold each other. but then, inevitably, the taller of the two - mr. dowd - will start talking about nonsensical things, things from the outside world, rambling about ideas that donāt make sense and imaginings that even a child would raise a brow at. and the detective just- listens. he looks up at his friend(?) with enraptured eyes and an interested pinch to his brows as if he could listen to his friend ramble for hours. maybe even days. and raās realizes that he most likely has, in the time theyāve been here. raās had twisted their flesh and their minds for weeks, and in the quiet moments, when even the ninja in the shadows werenāt looking, mr. dowd would rant and ramble, and the detective would listen- his lips twisted and his expression awed. like, even in this place, this dark, bloody, anguished place, full of their shared pain and burdens, there is nowhere heād rather be, as long as he could keep listening to his friend.
and raāsā¦maybe he had found the jackpot. maybe, when the batman inevitably crashed the party and rescued his son (and subsequently his sonās friend), raās could eventually try again. maybe kidnap just mr. dowd, and lord him over the detective until he got what he wanted (the detective working for him and being unable to ever leave again, of course.) or maybe he could kidnap them both again, and then possibly drive the detective to the point of no return by killing mr. dowd in front of him?
any of it could work for his own gain. he supposed heād just have to see with time.
anyways, it takes a total of three weeks for batman to rescue the kids. in that time, raās relishes in having the detective to himself, incapable of getting himself out so long as he had his friendās health to consider. and raās finds himself pleasantly surprised by said friend- yes, maybe heād keep a tab on him too, separately from the detective, just because. not for any particular reason, no, of course not. bernard dowd normal and human in a way that tim drake was not- but also, there wasā¦something there that made raās want to crack open his chest and dig around in his heart and soul for that interesting taste. he wonāt forget this little lamb for a long time coming. not at all.
mr. dowd and the detective only had each other in the pits of raās curated hell, and raās had watched as they only grew stronger, continuing to fight and fight and fight, all while holding onto each other as tightly as they could.
raās will miss them. how entertaining they were. how utterly stimulating they were. maybe he could send his assassins to stalk them for a little while, just to feed a little bit of his curiosity.
yes. and maybe, on a lonely, Saturday night, when theyāre alone and playing chess together, maybe his assassin would see their feet tangling together under the table, and their empty hands intertwining while the other hands move the pieces, and timās narrowed eyes as he scowls at bernard for making a move outside of the maneuver that he knew bernard was going for and that which he knew bernard changed mid-motion specifically because tim knew, and maybe the assassin would catch sight of bernard tracing the scars on timās arms that he had put there himself before a silver glint flashes in the moonlight and everything goes dark.
yes. maybe bernard and tim both knew immediately that they were being stalked, and they sat down to play because ever since they got back to being civilians bernard has had this itch- and really itās not his fault when the knife tucked into his sock goes flying through the air, as silent as a mouse, and catches the assassinās eye, straight to their brain.
it wasnāt timās either of course because batman doesnāt kill and neither does robin and actually robin fights the killers he would never endorse one he would never keep his eyes glued to a chess board while hisā¦friendā¦eliminates the threat, no, robin would never do that.
Robin shut up you're scaring the hoes
timber fake dating au where bernsā family is rich and well known (not wayne level but maybe like drake level?) and they meet at a wayne gala when theyāre both like 15 or something (tim became drake-wayne earlier cuz jack died earlier and obv heās still robin).
and theyāre bored out of their minds and when they meet immediately bernard blurts out a conspiracy abt the wayne galas being fronts for bruce to conspire with batman to operate their cloning empire or something and tim laughs so hard he cries and they become really fast friends. and they decide that they need to come up with a cover to get away from the galas when theyāre this mind numbing and theyāve had it up to here with haughty old ladies pinching their cheeks and asking little timmy when heās gonna take over his dadās company and tiny bernie when heās gonna host his own dowd gala or whatever, and tim thinks of all the times that bruce has covered up his scenes as batman by being a bumbling himbo womanizer and eureka thatās it, thatās the plan!
he tells bernard they just need to be airheaded giggly boyfriends who want to run off and goā¦make out, or whatever it is giggly high school boyfriends do, and bernard is staring at him with big, sparkly hazel eyes and a manic grin that splits half his face and ofc bernard agrees heās certifiably insane and maybe so is tim (itās a definitely, especially if you asked bernard).
and so theyāre grabbing onto each other and stumbling out of the gala and their faces are inches apart and theyāre faking, of course they are, theyāve only known each other for as long as the gala has been going on with itās sparkling chandeliers and champagne and jewelry hanging off of simpering benefactors, and maybe the way theyāre looking into each otherās eyes as suddenly-interested papparazzi snap scandalous photos is all made up but tim- tim is kind of forgetting that theyāre meant to be escaping with bernardās loud, bright laugh in his ear and his fluffy blonde hair falling into his eyes- his eyes that are so mischievous and shine with so much brilliance, tim doesnāt think heās ever met someone as smart as bernard and heās only known him for a few hours but- but-
they sneak away and all the adults that catch them running arm in arm just roll their eyes fondly and shake their heads and a few of them shout after them asking why they arenāt with their parents so really, tim was an evil genius for this plan because it goes amazingly well, and well, theyāre going to have to keep this up for the next gala and tim is actually excited about that because that means he can use this cover for, well, anything really- not just getting away from the noise but also maybe for robin?
but itās all kind of drowned out of his head as his gaze keeps getting caught on bernardās smile, so wide and caught full of teenage guilt and excitement and theyāve fully escaped by now but tim canāt stop thinking about bernardās cheap shampoo and lemony laundry scent as bernard spins around him with delight. theyāre in the backyard of wayne manor, where no one will see them, but also theyāre still at the manor so bruce canāt be upset that they left exactly. and the moon is high in the sky and shining bernard in silvery blues and tim- heās not gay, of course heās not, and well- he knew what he was getting into when he convinced bernard of their plan, he knew heād be called all sorts of things, none of which of course would be true, including the label of gay- he knew theyād plaster it all over the news and social media and he knew that heād have to talk to his family about it and he knew that he, well, he came out when heās literally straight, but. tim would normally think long and hard about all of those things, about all of the consequences, for hours, but there was just something about looking into bernardās eyes and feeling this rush spark in his chest at the thought of being in bernardās arms and faking something he hadnāt even thought of, not once, in all his 15 years of living. but. here they are, here tim is, here bernard is, and theyāre laughing and theyāve escaped the misery that is a wayne gala and thereās a lump in timās throat and bernard is- heās-
heās so beautiful. in the soft rays of the white faced moon, in the darkness of the night, in his all black suit and dirtied up dress shoes, with his hair ruffled and wild from the wind and timās hands. heās the most beautiful thing tim has ever seen.
and timā¦can never say a thing.
update:
im so fucking obsessed with timbern now omfg someone save me (donāt save me) i canāt breathe im exploding im having an episode (i need them injected in my veins, donāt save me) I WILL EXPLODE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH (DO NOT. SAVE ME.)
Coughs. Anyways.
might lowk write snippets or fics and post them here idk weāll see um. i am. mentally unwell. :)
a superblond value study for the soul š
superblond community let me in i have a warrant
bernard vs. the allegations ft. batblob & boyfriend
bernard (on the phone with tim): turn around
bernard: no the other way
bernard: again, the other way
bernard: no not there, one more time!
tim: OH MY GOD WHERE ARE YOU?
bernard: iām not there yet, but the thought of you aimlessly turning around in circles amuses me
Happy pride from the karaoke booth! (they have not been doing any singing)
Happy Pride š³ļøāš
guys who is that guy next to robin
their miis end up in a throuple (in a perfect world it's possible)
In his sophomore year of high school, when he was 16 years old, Bernard Dowd went to Tim Drakeās house.
This was an uncommon commodity in their friendship. Tim was an exceptionally ābusyā boy for someone who had no hobbies other than skateboarding and, from what Bernard hears, a bit of photography. Tim, like most teenagers, was embarrassed of his parents from time to time and how they might be perceived by his peers. Bernardās parents were⦠the way they were, with him. So it wasnāt always that the circumstances lined up for a house visit. And it wasnāt always that Bernard or Tim would bother to ask after one. They much preferred to bum around town, anyways.
narrator: it was not, in fact, a surprise.