Peppermint Magician Lynn

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

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[peppermintmagicianlynn]

Headcanon: TimBer Parents' Parallels

Tim: His parents loved him, but their actions (constantly leaving him alone) created emotional distance, making it sometimes feel as if they didn’t.

Bernard: His parents didn’t love him, but their actions (wanting him to come back home and pretend to be a family) made it seem like they did - until he learned to see right through them.

Tim: Learned to cope by being a "perfect, angelic son" so as not to let his parents worry about him. This allows them to go gallivanting without any guilt, while he learns to shove aside his trauma as if it means nothing.

Bernard: Learned to cope by NOT following his parents’ expectations of a perfect son. Instead, he became the sort of individual (his high school persona, bathroom jokes made loudly in a public place) who agitates them and forces them to acknowledge his presence, even if the attention is negative.

Where that leaves them both:

Tim: Struggles with the idea of "loving someone despite the distance." He sometimes falls into habits of loving someone to a choking degree (stalking them, trying to remove them from the vigilant world, withholding information of his emotions/superhero identity to maintain a tenuous balance) or puts up more distance when he feels the relationship can’t be fixed (quitting his Robin career, pushing Stephanie away harshly, running away from Young Justice/Gotham).

Bernard: Doesn’t believe love is something you should just expect from someone else, because obligations of love (like in a family) just leave everyone hurt. Instead, he freely loves other people without caring if it's returned (he still wants a relationship with his parents despite their regret for his birth, admits to "Robin" his romantic feelings towards Tim without ANY assurance that he would be accepted). However, at the same time, he doesn’t do so blindly or without recognizing that sometimes you have to keep a distance for the sake of your own wellbeing (never contacted his parents during that year apart despite that it hurt him, refusing to move back home no matter how much he really wants to unless some changes are made).

I feel like these are the sort of issues that they can really only talk about to one another, common bad childhood/messy homelife scenarios that have nothing to do with vigilantes or supervillains. Just the dichotomy of bad parenting and how a child copes as best they can, even though it leaves a lot of deep scars.

At least, that’s my opinion on all this.

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer: Bernard Dowd as a Guide

Tim and Bernard’s relationship really does come full circle.

When they met in high school, Bernard’s entire introduction was him insisting he would help Tim in his new school – he was the expert who understood the social rules and was more than happy to share his knowledge this new kid.

Then after being apart for a while, just as Tim starts wondering over a confusing part of his identity, Bernard returns. He brings back that childhood time when Tim could lean on someone and reveals exactly what it was that Tim was missing simply by being the same person he was back then - Bernard won’t leave a person to fight alone and he’s outspoken with his thoughts and desires. Exactly what Tim needs right now.

When Tim decides he wants to start exploring what this new phase of his life will be like, he immediately wants Bernard to help him. Because Tim feels safe with Bernard even after all this time apart. Because Bernard was the one to offer a new way to see himself and would gladly be his guide into a new world, just like that first meeting.

Even after all the ways they both changed, Tim never stopped seeing Bernard as that guy from high school who took him under his wing and never let him down.

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: First Sleepover

TimBer Week 2024 Day #7: First Sleeepover

Last one of the week. We made it!

It was amazing how casually it had come about.

They’d been dating for six months, officially boyfriends for only a few weeks. And yet…it felt like they’d been together for years. Bernard came by almost every day, they shared meals and swapped clothes, then bickered over whose turn it was to do laundry. It felt like they were sharing the boat as a home together and that filled Tim with delight that he couldn't fully express.

But the one thing they had yet to do was spend a night together.

N-not like that! Just…you know, sleeping in the same space. They’d done that a lot in high school, when they’d stay up late playing video games or watching movies, then crash at one person’s house. They’d make pallets across the floor or just collapse on top of someone’s bed, where parents would drape them in individual blankets.

It wasn’t a new thing… but this was a new thing!

One bed. One blanket. A pre-planned slumber party.

Granted, it had come about for a very non-romantic reason.

--

“Fumigate?!”

Bernard winced at his boyfriend’s outraged exclamation, setting the phone aside while he struggled to fold his clothes into his duffel bag.

“Yeah, some idiot called the health inspector on one of the neighbors. I don’t know what they found, but they gave us all an hour to pack up and get out. They said it won’t be safe to come back until tomorrow.”

“And where exactly do they expect you to go until then?”

Bernard wished they were on video chat so Tim could see his deadpan look. “Tim, babe, this is a low-income district. They don’t care if I sleep on the street as long as I don’t come back until they give the go-ahead.”

Tim squawked over the line while Bernd packed some underwear. “I’ll just sleep at a friend’s house. It’s fine. Jared has a pull-out couch and as long as Toby didn’t get kicked out of his girlfriend’s place again, I can just-”

“Stay here.”

“Huh?”

“Here. At the boat. With me.”

“Uh, are you sure about that?”

“Am I- Bear! You just told me you’re going to be homeless for a night. Why wouldn’t I want you to be here with me?”

“Well, when you put it like that, sure. I have a work shift for the next few hours, but I’ll come around sometime after 8. That cool?”

“Sure, that’s perfect. See you then.”

“Love you.”

Tim was quiet for a moment. Bernard was patient. Then, “I love you, too. See you later. Bye.”

Bernard grinned. It was a tactical risk pulling that on him. It hadn’t been that long ago Tim could call them boyfriends without stuttering. And now, they were going to have their first sleepover together since high school.

Bernard looked at his clothes as he packed them up, particularly his pajamas. They were hand-me-downs from Toby, and while Bernard liked them well enough, would they be a little too ratty for this? And moreover, would showing up there in Batman pajamas be a little too on the nose? He loved teasing Tim about his secret identity but that might actually get him suspicious that Bernard knew the truth. He’d need to pick up something else after he was done with work. He would not show up to his boyfriend’s boat looking like a slob!

--

Tim was a slob messy person. His mind was sharp, his deductive reasoning unparalleled, and his skills across various fields were masterful. But like most geniuses, he thrived in chaos of his own making, and there was no clearer sign of that than his houseboat. Once, his neighbor Lauren had stopped by to ask him to have dinner with her and Tammy, and nearly killed herself walking down the stairs when she slipped on a discarded takeout bag. Not Tim’s fault, though Tammy’s wrath after that incident said otherwise.

So while Tim definitely had to clean up any evidence of his Robin activities - case files, hardware, suit pieces, gadgets - he also gave the space a proper cleaning. Like on-the-floor-with-a-scrub-brush, window-washing, dishes-put-away kind of cleaning. The laundry… well, that went under the bed. He only had so many hours!

The fervor with which he cleaned his living space surprised even him. He had ignored it when his siblings talked about his junky boat; Bernard had already seen it this way from the very start. But he still wanted to make it shine for him. Make it just a little bit better for his boyfriend’s first night over.

--

Bernard arrived in the evening, with his necessities and valuables he didn’t want to leave behind where strangers might rummage through his drawers. A Gothamite born and raised. Tim tried not to linger over the idea that his boyfriend's whole life could probably fit in just three bags and met him on the dock for a welcoming kiss. They had been sharing a lot more kisses since officially calling each other boyfriends (though apparently, Bernard had been calling them that way longer). When they finally pulled back, Bernard was beaming with unrestrained glee. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Tim returned, picking up one of the bags and bringing it into his home.

Bernard gawked at the place. “Uh, did you buy a new house without telling me? Because I swear I haven't seen the floor of your boat since the day before you moved in.”

“Ha-ha,” Tim said, setting the duffel bag down on his clutter-free floor. “If you wanted to sleep in a Five-Star hotel, you should have spoken up sooner.

Actually, his back-up apartment over near Crime Alley might qualify. If Bernard was really uncomfortable sleeping on the boat, maybe he could bring him over there instead. He’d have to be extra careful about the access points to the Nest but…

“No way!” his boyfriend declared, sounding offended at the idea. “I love your boat. It's so cozy and homey and so totally you. It’s perfect just as it is, even when it’s messier than a frat-boy’s dorm!” He just couldn’t resist that last dig.

But Tim appreciated his words all the same.

--

They ordered delivery for dinner, a local Thai place that they both adored. While sitting around Tim’s table, Bernard brought out his laptop to show him his latest discover: a fan-made Green Lantern movie. Tim was genuinely impressed by the flick and was already plotting how to get Bruce into a situation where he couldn’t escape watching it. The aroma of green curry and spring rolls, Bernard’s theories that the filmmakers were actually part of a Lantern Corp splinter group wishing to sway public opinion and take over the universe - all of it felt right. For them, at least.

“It just makes sense,” Bernard insisted between bites of his curry. "By hiding in plain sight on YouTube, they can secretly influence galactic events and just blame it on the more famous members!”

Tim laughed, urging him on. Bernard's eyes sparkled when he was passionate about a new idea.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving through topics of jobs, school, family and anything else they wanted. There was a lightheartedness to it all, but also a deeper connection, an unshakable comfort and safety that let them be as unfiltered and silly as they pleased. As the night went on and their movie ended, they were still talking, ignoring their food that had long gone cold. Bernard leaned back against the bench, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. "This is what I like most about being here. It’s just you and me. It’s nice.”

Tim smiled, reaching out to squeeze Bernard's hand. "I love having you here.”

--

Bernard’s yawning told Tim they’d stayed up long enough. He had already called off of patrol for the night but the other still had work tomorrow, so they couldn’t burn the late-night oil like the might any other time. Tim insisted Bernard could head to the bedroom first and get changed while Tim cleaned up the mess.

“He’s already mending his ways,” Bernard wiped a fake tear from his eyes. “I’ve never been more proud.”

He ran to the bedroom, closing the door fast before the couch cushion could hit him.

--

Bernard felt far less sure about his choice of sleeping clothes now that they were on his body. He’d only allowed himself thirty minutes after his shift to dash into a store and grab a “respectable” set of pajamas off the shelf. No garish logos, no quirky patterns; just something nice and neat for when he shared a bed with his Significant Other.

But seeing himself in the light blue, pinstriped flannel, he looked...wrong. Like he was trying to hide behind something "presentable" and fake his way through. A harsh reminder to his teen years, causing a rush of those old insecurities he'd tried to hard to shed. He shouldn't have bought this. He was proud of who he was and what he liked. So why did he keep having these moments of doubt that made him do things he would end up regretting?

Tim knocked on the door, politely refraining from barging into his own bedroom. Bernard would have given anything to rewind, hit pause, and change his life’s decisions. But he couldn’t.

“Come in,” he said, his voice as steady as he could manage.

Tim pushed the door open, took one look at him, and smiled. “Cute.”

Usually, that word from Tim would make him happy, but this time it hit a little wrong. “Yeah, I know it’s… it’s stupid.” He gripped the offensive fabric between his fingers, hating it more with each passing second. “I should have worn the Batman ones instead.”

“Well, that would be very much your style, you fanboy,” Tim said, coming closer. He wrapped his arms around Bernard’s waist, pulling their bodies together, then murmured into his ear, “But these are nice, too. You're a handsome guy, Bernard, no matter what you wear. These look good on you."

Tim’s boldness was unusual, but his ability to read Bernard's insecurities and immediately sooth them was commonplace. Bernard hugged his wonderful boyfriend in gratitude for those words. He then left the room so Tim could change into his own pajamas, which were a lot simpler: basketball shorts and an oversized T-shirt.

Bernard didn’t let their dissimilarity of outfits bother him a second time. He chose to savor the moment; brushing his teeth together in Tim’s tiny bathroom, hip-checking each other for space in the mirror, and trying not to choke on foam amidst their laughter.

--

Tim’s bed wasn’t small, but it was compact. Enough for one person comfortably and two if they didn’t mind touching in the middle. Bernard waited to see which side the other preferred climbing under the sheets with him, taking the spot closer to the wall.

Was that intentional?

The dock lanterns outside shone their light through the windows, the only illumination they had. Bernard was 80% certain Tim could actually see in this dark, so he felt a little more self-conscious than he might have otherwise. A calloused hand found his beneath the blanket and squeezed it, offering silent reassurance to what he must have read on Bernard’s face.

Finding the right sleeping position was hard; Bernard was used to a much firmer (and lumpier) mattress, so his body was a little unsure how to work with Tim’s memory foam. For his part, Tim couldn’t seem to settle on what part of the bed he actually wanted, going from the very edge of his side to taking up a good chunk in the middle. There was a lot of shifting limbs, sometimes kicking each other which provoked retaliation, but that was a familiar part of their old sleepovers too. It was nostalgic.

“Fair warning: I’ve been told I snore,” Tim whispered.

“That won’t bother me. My roommates are like grizzly bears trying to harmonize with one another in an all-night concert. When my eyes are closed, I’m deaf.” Bernard paused, considering, before adding, “But, um, I might wake up in the middle of the night. I get nightmares sometimes.”

Tim was quiet; Bernard wished he could see his face. Then warm arms came up around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug that always felt like a safe place to hide. “I’ll be right here if you do,” Tim promised, soft yet unyielding. “I’ll be here when you get up tomorrow, too. You're safe, Bear. "

Bernard bit his lip to keep the tears of gratitude at bay. How had he found someone who care so much, who actually paid attention enough to see the fears he’d never admit to. Bernard shifted until his lips found warm skin, trailing them across Tim’s cheek until he could properly kiss the man he loved. It was gentler than what they’d had outside, but twice as meaningful. Simple but perfect, just like this moment. Just like every moment they got to share in this comfy houseboat.

The night dragged on, their attempt to sleep interrupted by whispered comments and gentle touches. Snuggling under the blankets was the best part by far, feeling heartbeats and gentle breaths, the warmth and safety of having a lover’s arms to hold you tightly through the night.

The bond they shared was already strong, but taking a step like this made it feel like they were truly unbreakable.

---

I wonder if you can tell how tired I was after a week of writing. Still, I gave it my best to end TimBer Week 2024 on a good note. That said, I might come back through these on a later date and do some editing. Not for a while, though.

Thank you to everyone who read even one of my posts and a special thanks if anyone joined me in this project!

Let's see what next year brings!

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Bernard's Birthday

TimBer Week 2024 Day #6: Bernard's Birthday

This one is set in an AU where the Grieves Trio made it to senior year. Oh, also Darla has magic. Because.

--

“Happy birthday, you filthy animal!”

Bernard had two seconds to turn around and brace himself before Darla came flying into his arms. He managed to catch and spin for two rotations before he started to wobble. Luckily, Tim was there to support both of their weight. Other students sent them dirty looks for blocking the school hallway, but the trio paid them no mind. They were always like this.

“Thanks Dal, but I feel that in light of my new age, you should add Mister or Sir in there.”

She gave him a remarkably unimpressed look, considering she was clinging to him like a koala. “Or I could turn you into a frog and you can just be a filthy animal.” She raised two fingers, letting them spark with red magic as a threat.

Bernard, who never backed down from anything, replied. “As long as Tim will kiss me back to a prince, go for it. That’s the best Birthday gift I could want.”

Tim let them both fall into a giggling heap on the floor.

—

“But what do you actually want for your birthday, Bern?” Tim kept his tone casual, hoping to offset how badly he want to hold hos boyfriend’s hand as they walked the halls to lunch. They did that now and then, but Tim didn’t feel like glaring at all the shit-talkers who had a problem with their PDA. He wanted all of his attention ready for what Bernard would say next.

“You know I don’t,” the blond replied, bumping their shoulders together. “My parents max out my gift limit every time a sale comes out. I guess they think if they preemptively get me stuff, I won’t ask for anything else during the holidays. I don’t know if I’m more annoyed that that plan always works or that they know me enough to get things I actually kind of like. I hope to God they aren’t secretly mind-readers.”

“Nah, you’re just easy to read. If the Dowds were mind-readers, they would know about our plan to get you into culinary school and skip out on that biomed college you got a scholarship for. Just 7 more months before I can get the trust fund Mom left me.”

“If you’re not going to let me fight crime with you, you don’t get to pay my way through life. That was the deal, remember?”

“Hey,” Darla clapped her hands to cut off their bickering, “less sugar-baby debates and more discussions about birthday fun. This a big year, guys; we have to do something for it!”

“We’re not going to Trampoline Planet again, are we?”

“I think we’re banned from there, babe.”

“Yeah, but Aquista money gets us into a lot of places we’ve been banned from.”

Darla ignored them both, using her phone to quickly google some ideas for how to celebrate a friend’s birthday. She saw a promising idea though it would be very hard to pull off on such short notice. Maybe if she asked her mother… Darla glanced behind her, where Bern and Tim were shoving each other and giggling like saps. As long as they were distracted, Darla might manage to send some texts out and get this done.

Bernard would love it.

--

“Thank you everyone for joining today’s French Cuisine class!” Despite her heavy French accent, the instructor was bright and peppy as she grinned out over the class. “We arranged for this lesson on very short notice, I know, but I am glad to see so many of you are here. Our dish for today: a simple and elegant chocolate soufflé!”

Bernard squealed in delight.

As soon as school had let out, Darla threw them into her limo and had her drivers take them to the local community center. There was a cooking class that had spontaneously decided to host a lesson this afternoon and there were exactly three open spots available, which was just so perfect as their Bernard-Birthday activity! She’d pointedly ignored Tim’s suspicious glare while taking in Bernard’s sun-bright grin. The only thing he loved more than conspiracy theories (but less than trolling his friends) was learning new dishes.

Tim, however, had some reservations. The instructor had provided neatly drawn diagrams on the whiteboard to help if they got lost, but the detective could only stare at them like he was in desperate need of a codebreaker. He might excel in chemistry, but the baking arts still eluded him at times. Bernard offered him an empathetic pat on the back, taking a moment to admire his cute boyfriend in his sleek black apron they’d all been given, but really couldn’t contain his excitement for this class. Chocolate soufflés were one of Bernard’s favorite desserts and he was stoked to learn how to make them himself.

While the instructor went on with her explanation of the ingredients, Bernard gave her his full attention. Tim leaned into Darla's side to hiss, “We could have just cone to a restaurant, you know.”

“He loves interactive junk like this. Plus, we have a professional here so you can’t burn the place down.”

“I’m not taking that from the witch-wannabe who blew up a microwave. You’re lucky Raven owed me a favor, or else you’d have Shadowpact on your ass.”

“I couldn’t figure out how to change the temperature settings! Besides, you did worse. Dana still doesn’t know about the ‘additions’ you made to her food processor, does she?!”

Bernard placed a hand on either of their dark-haired heads and turned them gently to look towards the front of the room instead of shooting glares at one another. The rest of the class had already started following instructions, but the teacher was sending the three of them dirty looks for slacking off. You could tell she wasn’t fond of having rambunctious teenagers in her oh-so-elegant French cuisine class. The trio arranged themselves to the ‘innocent angels’ formation and this seemed to convince her they were not going to be any more trouble. Naïve.

Despite Tim's worries, they worked well together even in the kitchen. Tim chopped the chocolate, Darla measured the ingredients, and Bernard cracked the eggs and stirred the pot while they poured everything in as needed. Bernard laughed at the faces they made when he started zesting the orange peel into the chocolate. "I promise you, if you avoid the white parts, this does help make it delicious."

Darla opened her mouth to make a joke, but Tim pinched her before she could get the first syllable out, turning her word into a shriek. This got them yet another aggravated glare from the teacher, and Bernard quickly put the zester out of reach before it could become a weapon.

When it was time to whip the eggwhites, Bernard left it to Tim. He made a hesitant face when Bernard handed over the whisk, but Darla was making faces behind Bernard’s back so he had to take up the task. Bernard watched him struggle to move the whisk fast enough while controlling the bowl but after he nearly flipped the entire thing, it seemed like he’d need to rescue him.

Bernard stepped behind Tim, wrapping his arms around the raven-haired boy to help steady both his boyfriend and the bowl. He gently guided Tim's hands to hold the whisk at the right angle, showing him how to make smooth, controlled movements.

"Like this," Bernard murmured near Tim's ear, helping him create a rhythmic motion. "You want to incorporate air into the whites, but not too violently." Their hands moved in sync, watching as the egg whites slowly began to transform from liquid to soft peaks.

Tim leaned back slightly against Bernard's chest, focusing on matching the steady pace Bernard had set. After a few minutes, the egg whites began forming stiff, glossy peaks that held their shape.

"Perfect," Bernard said softly, giving Tim's hands a gentle squeeze. "See? You're a natural. Darla, would you add a pinch of salt?"

"Sure. I guess I have to serve some purpose around here."

Tim's back muscles tensed, signaling he was about to make a snarky comment. Bernard gently tapped his forehead against the back of his boyfriend's head—a warning not to pick a fight that put their creation at risk. Tim settled for flipping Darla off instead, keeping his words to himself.

Folding the whipped cream and chocolate together was Darla’s job. Mainly because Bernard didn’t want to let Tim go, so she would have to carry them now. “You got this, I believe in you.” This was muttered into Tim’s fluffy hair as they rocked back and forth together, but Bernard trusted her to know who that message was for.

Speaking of messages, there was a beep coming from Tim’s short collar that meant one of the Bats needed attention. They’d all had to remove their watches (and the bat-tech Tim had implanted in them) but he’d kept the mini receiver just in case. Bernard released his boyfriend to run out into the hall for a “personal call” while Bernard continued to not help Darla.

“You think it’s Robin on the other side? I think Tim mentioned Oracle is ‘down for maintenance’ so he had to be the call center.” Though Tim had moved on to a new name and mostly patrolled their neighborhood, he and the Bats still helped each other out. Bernard had even seen the Girl Wonder swinging through the streets when that gang war had popped off last year. She’d helped Batman save Gotham, though it was Batgirl and Nightwing who’d helped Tim save their school from those gunmen.

“Don't worry about that, Bear,” Darla said, using her magic to pull him into her side. It was as much of a comforting hug as she could offer while scooping chocolate-cream mix into the rest of the whipped cream. “Robin is way too good for Tim Drake.”

“Then what does that make me?”

“His perfect match.”

“Damn right.”

Bernard ladled the souffle mix into their cups, Darla cleaned up the edges, and Tim took over to the kitchen ovens where they would bake with the rest of the class. This left them 15 minutes to clean up their station and NOT look like total delinquents.

Which of course was when it all went wrong and this time, Bernard was at fault.

Bernard had been tasked with wiping down their station while Tim and Darla handled the dishes. Everything was going smoothly until Bernard had noticed a particularly stuck-on glob of chocolate. He poured on the elbow grease and took a step to the side, right where Darla had accidentally spilled dish soap. With a shriek, Bernard slipped backwards and crashed into the dish rack. Tim was fast enough to catch the dishes before they smashed on the floor, but Darla was knocked into the leftover flour and egg containers. Bernard made a desperate grab for the eggs but only succeeded in batting the basket sideways—launching them into another group’s perfectly clean cooking area. The flour went right into the sink where they’d left the water running.

It was like a nuke had gone off, a cloud of wet flour exploded out to coat all three teens and most of the surrounding area in a sticky paste. The instructor's shriek could probably be heard from the parking lot. "Mon Dieu! What have you done to my kitchen?!"

Bernard turned to his flour-covered friends with an apologetic grin. "Um... oops?"

Tim set aside the dishes in his hands, the only thing left unscathed, trying and failing to look stern. "This is why we can't have nice things."

"At least it wasn't me this time," Darla said cheerfully, looking like a ghost with her flour-whitened hair and stretched out on the floor where she’d landed.

Bernard wasn’t that surprised that their day trip ended with being kicked out of the lessons, only enough time to return their aprons, and left to sit on the front steps of the community center until Darla’s limo came to pick them up. “Well, that could have gone better.”

"Sorry," Tim and Darla said at the same time. They were self-aware enough to take credit for helping push the instructor to their breaking point.

"Nah, it's okay. The chaos is what I like most about spending time with you two." He leaned over to kiss Darla on the cheek. "Thanks for setting this all up, Dall."

"Hey," Tim grumbled, pulling on his sleeve.

Bernard laughed, turning to face his boyfriend. "And thank you too, boy wonder. I wouldn't have had such a great year without you in my life." The kiss he gave to Tim was on the lips, naturally.

"You're welcome, Bear." Tim smiled, with a touch of mischief. "Though, we aren't done yet."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of white candles. "I snatched this from the pantry on the way out. Darla?"

She grinned, eyes glowing as she waved one hand over her outstretched palm. Red smoke circled until a familiar white dish appeared from thin air.

"You stole one of our dishes?" Bernard grinned. It sure did pay to be best friends with a witch in training, even if her magic was a little bit evil.

"Make a wish!" Darla demanded, setting the soufflé into Bernard's hands while Tim put in a candle. Darla snapped her fingers to light the wick.

Bernard looked between his best friends in the world and really couldn't think of anything else he would want.

So he blew out the candle and made a simple wish: to be with them again like this, next year.

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Class Reunion

TimBer Week 2024 Day #5: Class Reunion

“Nice Lion-Guard statues at the opening gate. The lack of gargoyles helps you pretend you’re nowhere near Gotham proper.”

“Those were changed since I went here. I wonder if someone broke the front them again.”

“Can I ask what broke them before?”

“Cop car crashed into them while trying to chase after some rollerblading gang members.”

“Classic Bristol.”

—

Brentwood Academy was a school Bernard had heard of many times, even before befriending someone who’d actually went there. His parent had asked his previously if he might want to go there, willing to scrap together the money for enrollment, but he’d declined. His excuse at the time was along the lines of “how can I grow as a well-rounded person with no girls around?” Looking back, it might have been his repressed fear that being around nothing but males would make it harder to hide the part of him that let his eyes linger a little too long.

Tim had been confused when the invite for his previous class’s 10-year reunion showed up in their mail. “I didn’t graduate with them. “You didn’t graduate at all, hon.” “Exactly!”

His guess was that the dean talked them into inviting him because it would look good if he turned up to the reunion and hobnobbed with their potential donors. The only reason Tim agreed to go at all was that he had a few friends he hoped to see there. Tim RSVP’d himself and one guest, that of course being Bernard.

For his part, Bernard was more interesting in seeing how many students at this school were in love with Tim – he’d clocked maybe half the Greive’s population and ad taken great pride in rubbing his relationship status in all of their faces. He’d gone to elementary school with some of them; they’d pulled his clothes or stolen his juice boxes. So it was just fair game to steal the heart of their high school idol. Bernard was ready to flaunt his claim over any other men who’d gotten their awakening from the marvelous Tim Drake as well.

They parked the car and were following the directions of one of the senior boys - their little blazers were so charming - when the bark of a dog made pause. It broke through the manicured bushes that separated the parking lot from the main grounds, revealed to be a tan-colored pug running at full tilt. Everyone in the area froze to watch the dog as it cut through the cars but only one person made a move towards it.

“No way,” Tim breathed at Bernard’s side, putting out a hand with a face liked he’d seen a ghost. “Cardigan?!”

The dog slowed, looked back to Tim, then changed direction to come his way.

With a mystified look, Tim crouched down as the little creature reached him, putting tiny paws on the knees of his expensive slacks, tail wagging with glee. “You’re still…oh, wait.” Tim hooked a finger into the dog’s collar, pulling it up so he could read the name tag. “Cardigan III. I guess that makes more sense.”

There was a sadness in those words and Bernard instinctively gripped the other man’s shoulder in comfort, despite not understanding its source. Experience told him that the answers would unveil in time anyway, even in the next thirty—

“Cardy! There you are. I’m so sorry, sirs.” A student cut around the bushes, holding a leash in his hands and panting. “He got away from me.”

“No problem, sport,” Tim said as he rose to his feet. One hand slipped into his pocket, giving him a look of perfectly amicable suburban dad. He was channeling serious Brucie Wayne energy without even knowing it. “I can’t think this is the same Cardy I used to play fetch with when I was a student here.”

“Oh, no, sir,” the boy answered, attaching the leash to Cardy’s collar. “Cardigan Sr. and Jr. passed away a long time ago. This is Cardy the Third.”

Tim sighed, absorbing that information with downturned eyes. The boy picked up Cardy the Third and carried the dog back to the side of the building, promising treats if he would just be more agreeable.

“Cardy Sr. and I were really close,” Tim said to Bernard as they linked hands, following the people who were heading to the building's front entrance. “We had a lot of adventures together, even if I didn’t want him chasing me around.”

“Maybe we should get a dog?”

“We have enough animals to feed as it is. And I’m not just talking about the cats.”

Bernard just laughed and squeezed his hand tighter.

—-

The opening presentation was unimpressive, taken up mostly by a PowerPoint that described Brentwood’s prestigious history. They also learned about the various alumni of Brentwood who went on to create successful careers. Bernard could imagine the school board grinding their teeth that they couldn’t add one Timothy Drake-Wayne to that list. But hey, no school could.

Though one man that was bragged in the slides was a friend Tim sought out after they were allowed to mingle.

“Kip!” Tim pulled the equally short, though quite a bit thicker, male into a tight hug. Kip Kettering looked surprised by Tim’s enthusiasm.

“It’s great to see you too, Tim! Well, to see you in person and not in another Elites of Gotham magazine cover.”

Tim groaned, though that could remove his smile at the ribbing.

“No really, who would have thought our Tim Drake, wrangler of explosive dorm fights and hero to nerds everywhere would grow up to be a CEO? I bet your board meetings look like the war room scenes from the best action movies.”

“Being honest with you, they feel like that sometimes though usually I’m going to war against the rest of them.” Bernard and Kip both laughed. “I swear, they'll get maybe five more years out of me, then I’m quitting and becoming a househusband!”

That statement reminded Kip that they had skipped an important introduction. “Oh, you must be Bernard!” The two shook hands. “I saw the wedding announcement on LiveWire. Congrats to you both!”

“Thank,” Tim said, his smile like sunshine which told of how relieved he was by the positive response. “I’d wondered if I should invite you guys but…”

“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times, or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”

“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”

“What about you, though?” Tim asked, wrapping an arm around Bernard’s waist. “I never thought you’d end up a movie producer, but then again, it does track. You were always more critical of your movies than your taste in books.

Kip shrugged, not denying that. “Well, I graduated school with a tidy bit of money in my pockets so I thought, why not apply myself into something that interest me instead of a mindless computing degree. I guess you can’t really relate to that, can you?”

“Damn Kip, when did you get so brutal?”

“Since I moved out to Hollywood.”

“Hey, Timbo!” A boisterous baritone voice cut through the ruckus of the room, turning the attention of their group specifically. A very tall man shouldered his way through various bodies, his skin-tight clothing showing the cut of bulky muscles as he charged their way.

“Buzz Cohen,” Tim said, smirking at the approaching man where Kip grinned through an exasperated sigh. Tim put out a hand to shake but Buzz captured it and pulled the raven-haired man into a hug. "You sure look calm for a professional football player in a room of soccer-school alums."

“And you sure look respectable for a high school dropout!” Buzz clapped Tim on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise. A hit like that wasn’t anything Tim could take but he still faked like he was ready to fold in the knees. “You got adopted by a millionaire, took over his company, and you even got married all before we got to see you again!”

Tim elbowed Buzz in the ribs, trying to be gentle with it, but the other man still winced. Now free, Tim straightened himself out and went about the proper introduction. “Kip Ketterling, Buzz Cohen, this is my husband, Bernard. Bern, this is Kip and Buzz, some of my best friends while I went to Brentwood.”

“It’s nice to meet you to. And also, thank you. Now I know why Tim never mocked my name in school.”

“God damn it, Bernard.”

Bernard listened to Tim and his friends recount their adventures in Brentwood. He had already hear these stories from Tim but it was nice to hear the parts he had intentionally left out. Like his failed attempt at soccer tryout (likely on purpose) or his various run ins with their former housemother. They shared a mutual disappointment that a few of their group - Ali, Danny, or Wesley – hadn’t shown up to the party but that changed to making plans for their own friend reunion. Bernard was interest to see how they would get the leader of a former-terrorist sect and the leader of a country to come all the way to Bristol for pizza. Moreover, he wondered what Bruce would do if he found out.

The group eventually split up with talk about other classmates to check on. They swapped contact info and promises to actually stay in touch this time.

Tim had patrol that evening, so they made a quick pass through the crowd to check for anyone else he knew well enough, then took Bernard back outside through a different way. There was a part of the campus Bernard had been dying to see ever since Tim had told him the unabridged version of his time in all-boys school.

“So that’s the legendary bell-tower, huh?” He’d seen it from a distance when they were driving up but now that the sun was starting to set, it gave the neglected structure a creepy vibe. A perfect hiding spot for a family of Man-Bats looking to raise their daughter and new baby son.”

“Yeah, this is the place. I snuck up with Cardigan Sr. and after we scared the Man-Bats out, I had to save the pooch from himself. And save my skin by doing so.”

They ventured closer but stopped when they noticed a collection of boys hanging around the entrance. Tim made a noise and when Bernard looked his way, his husband was looking at the kids intensely. “The boy with the blond hair; I think I know him.” He was the smallest of the group, light blonde hair and a sunny smile. “I think that’s Aaron Langstrom.”

“You mean the-” someone was approaching them “the science couple’s kid?”

“Yeah, the Langstroms worked with WayneTech for a bit, so I got to know him.”

“Good evening to you, Mr. Drake.”

Even Bernard had heard the old man coming up behind them, but he could see where it might freak you out if you were one of his students. He moved like a ghost.

Dean Nederland was perhaps some kind of immortal because Tim had showed him pictures of the Brentwood headmaster and he looked exactly the same, not an extra wrinkle to be seen even after ten years. Cardy the Third was at his side, pawing at his owner’s ankle. Bernard wondered idyll why the dean was walking his dog now when he had an entire group of alumni to be schmoozing for donations.

“Hello, sir. I hope you’ve been well.”

“I have Mr. Drake. Or is it Drake-Wayne, now?”

“Drake-Dowd, Sir,” Tim smiled, clasping his ex-headmaster’s hand firmly. “This is my husband, Bernard.”

“Hello,” Bernard greeted, given a handshake as well. The man’s grip was surprisingly firm for someone of his years. He was putting ‘vampire’ at the top of his theory list.

“I am pleased to meet you, young man. I hope you have found our Brentwood Academy lives up to its reputation. Perhaps you might consider sending your own son here someday.”

“I’m truly impressed by the place, sir. It’s a magnificent facility and Tim has told me of his many fond memories as a student.” This got a smile from the dean who nodded at Tim in something that could be pleasure or gratitude.

But Tim turned the discussion back to the previous point. “So that is Aaron Langstrom? I hadn’t realized he was old enough to attend here.”

“Yes, he began his first year with us this fall and has been a delightful child.” The dean sighed with an aged kind of happiness. “He was here for the tour and in the first five minutes, declared he felt very at home in our Brentwood. Hearing that was a great joy for me, I don’t mind telling you.”

Given that the meta-human had once spent his nesting years in that very belltower, Bernard could imagine why he found it “homey”. He wasn’t about to mention that to the dean, though. Let him have his happiness.

Dean Nederland spoke with them for a few minutes more before bidding them good night and continue to walk his peppy dog who did let Tim and Bernard pet him one last time. The moment they disappeared, though, the couple was approached by an entirely new group.

“Excuse me?” Aaron and his friends had made their way over, wearing expressions of hesitation but also curiosity. “Are you Tim Wayne? I’d seen you in one of the old school photos.”

“Yes, that’d be me.”

“Oh cool,” said another boy. “Then, you were the guy that saved that guy who was kidnapped by that casino guy, right?”

“Uh, yes I was.”

“So you were also the guy that had a demon explode in his dorm room and cut up a dude who was protecting that Arabian prince?”

“Well, yes, but he was actually --”

“And you were here for when the original Sk8Bratz crashed through the campus gates and broke the front door?” “Idiot, we told you, it was the side gate and they broke the lions.” “Nuh uh.”

Bernard grinned at his husband. “Seems your reputation as a center of chao didn’t start in Grieves, hon.”

“No, it started when I was born,” Tim replied with a sly grin. And after quieting the bickering boys, set to work untangling their many stories of his Brentwood years and laying out the various cover stories he’d crafted for such situations.

The sun was fully set by the time they left the Brentwood Academy grounds, though they still had one more stop to make in Bristol Commons before heading to Wayne Manor.

“I’d see this place all the time when I was doing patrols around school,” Tim said as they took their orders and settled into an empty booth in the SunDollar coffee shop. “I was too busy to check it out when I’d just started classes and towards the end, I was under house arrest, so I never did get the chance.”

Bernard took a sip. “Sorry to break it to you, honey, but if it was just like this back when you were a student, you weren’t missing out on much.”

Tim took a sip, agreed to his point, then kept drinking it anyway.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, holding hands over the tabletop. Until Tim said, “I keep thinking about when the dean said.”

“About us having a son someday? Because I’m pretty sure I put into the prenup that I wanted a girl as my first child, so don’t go buying any blazers or ugly ties in the near future.”

Tim waved that away, not even interacting with Bernard’s joke. “Specifically, about sending my own child to Brentwood.”

Bernard frowned. “You’d want to send them to boarding school? After how miserable that always made you?”

“I wasn’t thinking they’d have to live there like I did. They could just be day students and live at home. It’s just…that made me think about if I really liked or really hated my Brentwood experience as a whole. Even now, after all these years, I have mixed feelings about that time in my life. There was a lot of dangerous things I faced there, a lot of drama from outside the walls and inside of them. But there were also some really joyful moments. Experiences that I might not have bothered with until I was forced to act like a teenager and grew to kind of like it.” He sipped his coffee again, gazing out the window towards the silhouette of the belltower. “The guys there were all so different from my Gotham Heights friends, or my teammates, but they still made me feel like one of them. They taught me to feel like ‘one of the guys’ and I really did love that.”

Bernard grinned at his adorable husband. But a tiny, territorial part of his heart made him ask “Did you like going to Brentwood more than Grieves?”

“Hell no.” Tim turned to smirk at his husband. “Not just the fact that I met the love of my life at Grieves, but I got to actually be a kid there; no secrets, no Robin, no double life to get in the way. The Brentwood guys helped me learn what it meant to be a kid. But you and Darla…you made me see what it meant to be Tim Drake. You still do that for me, every day.”

Bernard grinned, knowing it was all kinds of mushy but not caring enough to stop. He let himself be pulled into a searing kiss, much hotter than this lukewarm coffee. He laced his other hand into Tim’s, delighted by the cut of the wedding band that he’d put there not long ago.

He hadn’t gotten to brag on any of Tim’s ex-suitors but that was okay.

They still had the Gotham High reunion two months from now.

---

This feels kind of more like a Brentwood Boys fic then TimBer but I love that stretch of Tim's comics. I couldn't NOT overdo it. Sorry if anyone else wanted to see Ali, Danny, or Wesley. Maybe someday in the future they can have Brentwood Boys reunion part 2.

And no, I don't know if Aaron Langstrom ever appeared in the comic universe again. But he should! And he should have a good life and become a student at the school that he grew up in.

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Lazy Days

TimBer Week 2024 Day #4: Lazy Days

Bernard was never one for ‘cozy’ video games, but he’d gotten as a birthday present from his little cousin so he was making an effort to get into it. At the very least it was a cooking game and it flet appropriate for how his day had turned around.

At midmorning, Bernard had been up in his room, bored put of his gourd, when he’d gotten a text from Tim Drake. His classmate had asked about his plans for the day and given they were in a mutual state of ennui, they decided it would be more profitable to hang out. Bernard invited the other over to his house with a warning that he had better commit to a quiet day of nothing at all productive. Drake agreed and rolled up before noon.

What Bernard had not warned him of was that they wouldn’t be lazing around inside of the Dowd house. Instead, they would be in the camping tent Bernard has set up in the backyard which had also been a gift from his extended family. He’d practically been living out there and was excited to show it off to someone who could appreciate his efforts to make a comfy spot.

Drake had given him an appropriate amount of praise and after a few minutes to restock the space for the extra company, they’d both settled into their chosen activities. With the game volume turned off, Bernard was content by the sounds of clicking buttons, Drake’s occasional page flipping, and the whir of the portable heater that tirelessly defended them from hypothermia.

“How can you even see what you’re reading?” Bernard asked when he noticed how far Drake was from the heater. He was tucked so far into the beanbag chair that none of the red-hot coil’s light should have reached the pages of his book.

“It’s in braille,” was his response. “I’m teaching myself to read it, trial-by-fire.”

Which seemed sort of random and yet so very Tim Drake, just quietly picking up a new skill set like it was no big deal.

“Kudos to you, then.” Bernard went back to his game, stirring the pot of stew and tossing in another clove of garlic even though it made the overseeing chef yell about ‘waste’. It needed more garlic, okay?

The wind picked up outside, rattling the tent but not enough to upset anything on the inside. Bernard had been sure to secure the extension cord outside, so as long as it was still powering their heater, they were still safe to stay put. It was like living in a micro-world, away from the rest of the human population and free from everything about it. Just the two of them.

Bernard felt a bit of pride when the food critic showed him his final score – ten out of ten! - and decided that was enough for now. He set the system aside, stretched out his hunched back, and turned his attention to the other occupant of his micro-world.

Drake had his eye closed, giving all his focus to the ridged pages under his hands and whatever information he was getting from them. He was so immersed in his task, Bernard almost felt bad by his own compulsion to bring the boy back into the realm where they were still aware of each other’s presence.

Almost. “What are your reading?”

“The Odyssey. We analyzed it to death at my last school, so i know it by heart. I figured if I flubbed it trying to decipher the braille, I’d still understand most of what was going on and just guess my way through.”

“How much of it are you actually ‘reading’, then?”

“About 70%.”

“That’s pretty impressive. By our school’s standards, that’s practically a B+.”

Drake smirked. “Thank God for that.” Still with his eyes closed, he reached out his ‘reading’ hand in a fist for Bernard to bump.

The blonde laughed. Then on a wild impulse, asked “Read it to me.”

Drake cracked open one bright eye. “Have you never read The Odyssey before?”

“We got the abridged version back in middle school. They made us do so many book reports and even had us act out some of the scenes. It’s one of the only things we read that year that I that actually enjoyed.”

Drake had both eyes opened now and squinted them across the space at Bernard, humming in thought. “Only if you give me more chips. Barbecue-shrimp flavored, please.”

Bernard sighed like it was a great inconvenience, but he dug out one of the fun-sized bag he’d kept in his Bear-Den just for when Drake came over. “How can you stand these things? They’re gross.”

“You’re gross,” Drake retaliated before upending he bag and shaking a healthy amount into his mouth. Bernard watched him do so, amazed that neither loose chips nor crumbs landed on the open book pages. Once Drake got his fill, he set the bag aside but also bookmarked his page to set the volume down, too. The red blanket he’d stolen from Bernard’ lap was pushed aside so he could lean close to the heater, rotating his thin fingers in front of it with an obvious greed.

“Were your hands cold this whole time?”

“Yeah, it’s genetic. My mom hated the winter because her hands would freeze just from passing by an opened door.”

Bernard thought that over for a moment. Then he pushed off his own blankets and with a call of “Hold on to the book, I’ll be right back” he opened the tent flap and slipped out into the cold. He had something up in his room that could work well.

When he got back to the tent, Drake looked almost asleep in his chair, though the sudden blast of December chill brought him around immediately. Bernard did feel bad about that; Drake looked so wiped out when he showed up at their door. “Here, try these.”

The raven-haired boy must still have been a little groggy because he stared at the gloves in Bernard’s hands with a dazed look. “I can’t read braille with those on, Bern. The fabric gets in the way.”

“These ones won’t.” Bernard tossed them into the other’s lap. Once they were at touching radius, the other could finally realized why Bernard had been gone so long.

“Did you cut the fingers off?” he asked, holding up one black leather glove to see the tips had been removed. “Why would you do that? These look like an expensive brand!”

They likely were, but that meant very little to Bernard. The blond returned to his seat and once the blankets were tucked around him again, he shrugged. “I figured you could put them to better use than I would.” Then, with a smirk, “Plus, you’ve always had that ‘sickly orphan’ vibe going on. Fingerless gloves would work well for- hey!”

Bernard laughed as the balled-up chips bag was chucked at his head, bouncing of his temple because his hands were wrapped in his blankets.

“Ass.” But even as he said that, Drake slipped the gloves on with a smile. “Last chance to back out on my read-along. It’s going to be stilted and clunky the entire time.”

“Entertain me,” Bernard said. He made a big display of bringing the blankets up to his chin and sinking deeper into her beanbag chair. The picture of comfort and patience.

Drake laughed softly, then the sound of flipping pages as he returned to her previous spot. Bernard felt his heart pick up a little as Drake’s voice took on the same orating tone he slipped into when he had to read a passage in used in English Lit.

“The sun rose on the flawless brimming sea into a sky all brazen-all one brightening for gods immortal and for mortal men on plowlands kind with grain.”

Water and wheat danced behind Bernard’s eyelids, sweeping him away to the town of Pylos where he would follow Telemachus and Athena on their search for Odysseus. But while he did love this story, it was less the words that captivated him so much as the voice that brought them to life.

Drake had been correct about his recitation being clunky; he stumbled through every other sentence. But there was such beautiful honesty in how hard he was trying. He’d hesitate at complicated words, double-back when he used the wrong pronunciation, but that just made it all the sweeter when he did succeed. Bernard could hear the touch of pride that coated his voice whenever he made it to the end of a stanza without stopping.

With blankets and snacks and a familiar voice to fill the space, there was no better way to spend an afternoon in December.

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Most Eligible Bachelor

TimBer Week 2024 Day #3: Most Eligible Bachelor/Man of the Year

Quick Confession: I added this prompt to the wheel because it sounded funny, but I didn't do that much research before It ended up chosen. So...there's a high chance I don't understand the MEB process that well. Please forgive me.

---

Within the United States, there was an extraordinary amount of magazines targeting citizens between Late-Teens and Old Fogies. Of those, more than half ran various popularity contests about their readerships. Simple deductions said that if there was overlap in their audience, then the lists of candidates would have a lot of similar names for certain categories.

Yet Tim was left fully stunned at the data table put before, proclaiming that Timothy Drake-Wayne was on a list for this year’s Most Eligible Bachelor across fifteen magazines! Even Bruce only appeared on six lists at once when he was Tim’s age…and Tim was not going to think of why that number had increased so much following the adoption of Dick Grayson. This was just insane!

“It’s perfectly logical,” Lucius Fox declared, scrolling the tablet screen to show Tim the next graph. “Your public presence has been on the rise since you became a legal adult. Your work for company advancement and creation of new public programs has increased our stock tremendously over the years, which also reflects well on you. Altogether, you have created a positive image of a hardworking, successful young man. The usual candidates for this award.”

“And because you’ll never admit it to yourself, I’ll point out that you’re also a very handsome young man.” Tiffany flipped through the sample magazines she’d brought to the meeting and laid it open on the desk to show the article that announced his candidacy. By her actions, the photos of him at the ribbon-cutting event last month were supposed to support her theory. He only saw how Bernard’s haircut for the event really flattered him. “Admittedly, your numbers did take a slight dip a few years ago when you brought Bernard as your date for the first time, but they’ve made a steep climb since then. It’s actually remarkable.”

“You should be proud,” Tam said, smiling at Tim despite the dry look he gave. In fact, that just made her smile grow.

“In any case, the outcome of this might be good for us, so I’d call this a positive development.” Tim had already known Lucius Fox had a surprising sense of humor - the framed article about the Wayne-Fox engagement was still hanging on the office wall - but it was still amazing that he could say those words with a straight face. Tim should have taken public speaking lessons from him instead of his childhood tutors.

Neither Tam nor Tiffany were as contained as their father. They only lasted until the meeting was declared over and the eldest Fox left, mentioning they could all take lunch now. The minute the door closed behind him, the sisters burst into laughter. Tim missed when Tam would be as awkward about situations like this as he would.

The reopening of the door cut their laughter short, all three of them straightening into professional stances in case it was someone important.

And it was, just not in a corporate sense.

“Um, did I come in at a bad time?” Bernard asked, shutting the door behind him and hefting the thermal bag in his hand that contained food for their lunch date. “Lucius said I could come right in, but if you’re busy…”

“No way,” Tim said, jumping over his desk to meet his boyfriend in the middle of the room. They shared a brief kiss before Tim took the lunch bag and sat it beside of his desk, barely containing his excitement over what Bernard might have brought. The blond took the chair Lucius had vacated and greeted the Fox sisters who were sharing the couch. They should have already been heading out to their own lunch hour and Tim almost asked if they’d rather hide out and eat in the office together. He could order more food…

“Whoa, what is this?”

Crap, he forgot about the magazine!

“Oh my god, Tim!” Bernard exclaimed, picking up the gossip rag that was still on the incriminating page. “You’re going to be Bachelor of the Year?!”

Tim sighed. “Most Eligible Bachelor and no, that’s not guaranteed. I’m up against a lot of people. Including Bruce, for fuck’s sake.”

“Hasn’t he won this thing since, like, the eighties?” Bernard flipped through the other candidate articles. “I love how all these guys have on suits and sailing outfits, but they have a picture of you with your skateboard and Java-Kart cup. Really sells you as the Modern-Success guy.”

That prompted more giggles from the Fox ladies and Tim flicked his boyfriend on the forehead, stealing the magazine so he could throw it right into the trash can. “This is all bullshit. Why would I be the Most Eligible Bachelor? How was I even nominated?”

Bernard shrugged. “Maybe it’s because you were the youngest CEO in Gotham history, connected to two of its oldest families, son of the current richest man in the city, and are a youth culture bicon.” He smirked at how red Tim’s face turned after that last part. “Just a guess.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Tim said again, sitting on the edge of his desk right in front of Bernard. He propped his feet up on the seat edge between Bernard’s knees and fought back a smile when his boyfriend squeezed his ankles. “My name is on a magazine popularity contest against Bruce. It’s like a bad sitcom waiting to happen.”

“Oliver Queen was also in there,” Tam pipped in, pretending she wanted to be helpful instead of just wanting to see the vein in his forehead popping out. She could get away with a lot given she had access to 70% of his Red Robin resources and controlled his workplace coffee limits.

“I don’t even want to think of what my siblings are going to say about this,” Tim gestured to the trashcan, wishing he had a match to throw in. “I can mute the BatFam and Young Justice group chats, but Barbara can remotely turn them back on if she wants to make me suffer.”

“I thought you made a firewall to keep her out?”

“That’s for emergencies and I don’t want her to know that.”

Tam snorted. “This is why siblings are the worst.” She said this while leaning all of her weight against her own sister’s shoulder. Tiffany pushed back into the couch to let the younger woman flop across her lap.

“It’s only worthwhile to tease you because of your reactions,” Tiffany pointed out, patting Tam on the forehead before turning her eyes to Tim. “You act so embarrassed about things like this that it’s too funny not to poke the bear.”

Tim opened his mouth to protest, but Bernard tugging at his pants leg brought his attention to the other boy. Tim looked down at his boyfriend who was now wearing a giddy smile, eyes dancing with sudden excitement that screamed ‘incoming bad idea’. “What?”

“You could lean into it.”

Tim tucked a loose strand of hair out of Bernard’s face while giving him confused eyes.

“Well, you can’t change that you were nominated, and you definitely can’t stop your siblings from finding out. But you could change the way you outwardly react to it.”

“And what do you suggest, exactly?”

“You act like a man who was nominated for the most famous sex-icon award of the year!” Bernard threw out his arms as if to signify all that that implied. “Just getting on that list is a sign of your amazing qualities and overall hotness.”

Tim’s face flashed red-hot while Tam clarified, “He’s on fifteen of them!”

“Damn,” Bernard’s eyes widened before he narrowed them in playfully seduction. “I guess I’d better step up my game, then. Gotta make sure I don’t look like a slob against the hottest man in Gotham City.” He made a move to slide his chair back. Tim hooked his feet under the seat to pull him closer.

“You know, he does make a valid point,” Tiffany declared, pushing Tam up from her lap. “If you acted as if you enjoyed this nomination, you wouldn’t be mocked so hard by your friends and family.”

“Plus it would be funny,” Tam pointed out. “Very very funny.”

Tim was skeptical of that idea. He was not a person who liked a lot of attention, especially from strangers or in the way this particular award would suggest. Yes, he had done a few interviews with a lot of youth and LGBTQIA+, but he still didn’t see what it was about him that read “sex icon”. Only one person was allowed to think of him that way and make it feel flattering.

“And think of this,” Bernard continued when he saw Tim’s hesitation “if you act like an egotistical rich boy, you not only ruin their fun to tease you but you also get to drive them up the wall instead.”

Now that made him reconsider. Tim pictured himself stepping into Wayne Manor wearing a full tuxedo in broad daylight, dripping with gaudy jewels and swagger, putting on his socialite persona that he only used for parties.

If he unleashed all of that on his siblings, they would hate him.

Deeply-engraved gremlin energy rush through his veins like the greatest endorphins when he thought of the disgusted looks Jason and Stephanie would wear. He could just hear Dick’s exasperated sighs or Damian’s aggravated tongue-clicks. Bernard laughed at the glee in his expression and offered to create a storm of memes he could spread through social media where the Waynes would see them. Tam joined in, willing to order a stupidly ostentation rental car that he could drive to the manor after work. They were both enablers and fantastic partners in crime.

Tiffany rose from the couch, deciding this was her cue to run. “I’ll leave you kids to your plotting,” she said, straightening out the wrinkles in her suit pants as she headed for the door. “Just be sure to run anything you’re planning through the PR department so you don’t accidentally tank the company stocks.”

She said that like the company hadn’t survived all of Brucie Wayne’s antics or the various social events his children had upended.

“And personally, Tim, I think you should feel a least a little glad that you were nominated this year. Everyone in Gotham knows you won’t be eligible for this award for that much longer.”

The raven-haired boy looked over Bernard’s head to send her confused eyebrows. “Why do you say that?”

She gestured to the desk behind him. He peeked over and was immediately greeted with the three different framed photos he had of Bernard. Ah.

Siblings really were the worst, even if they weren’t your siblings.

-

Tiffany closed the door behind her, the soundproof wood cutting off Bernard’s giggling and Tam’s voice telling their CEO that he should work on his poker face before their operation began. In the silence of the hall, Tiffany considered Tim’s reaction for a moment, then sent a text to the accountant in charge of the officewide betting pools. She’d change her bet and put it on the proposal happening before Bernard graduates.

--------------------

You can decide for yourself if Tim actually won that award or not. Or the shock poor Bruce made when he saw his forever-17 son in the running with him.

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Gifts from In-Laws

TimBer Week 2024 Day #2: Gifts from the In-Laws

“Personal opinion: a song like Santa Baby has some pretty obvious connotations to it; everyone knows. It’s not a secret. So if you’re trying to do a male version of it but you wimp out on the gay energy, you shouldn’t have been trying.”

“Bernard!”

“I’m just saying! If he wants to try and call Santa ‘buddy’ and act like he’s a very rich friend into a sugar daddy, the word ‘coward’ is going to be thrown around. Even if that man does have a voice to die for.”

“Seconded!” Stephanie declared, raising her hand to high-five her fellow blond. Barbra also threw in her two-cents which got an outraged look from Dick.

Tim facepalmed at the entire conversation and decided he needed to get away before he was asked to weigh in on any part of it. He made a hasty retreat from the living room, leaving his boyfriend and siblings behind to find a less mortifying place to hide.

The kitchen was his best bet. Bruce and Kate were holding a conversation there while Alfred cleaned up the dishes from their Christmas Eve dinner. Everyone had worked like crazy this year to be sure they’d spend at least today together and somehow, they’d made it work. What made it even better: Tim got to bring Bernard along this year, their third Christmas together but he first with him openly in the know about their family secret.

Bruce let Tim take his seat at the kitchen island as he stood up to refill his cocoa mug. Tim asked for some as well, wanting to bring it out to Bernard. This got him a soft look from Bruce that made him blush before his father turned to take two more mugs down from the cabinet.

“How are the kids doing out there?” Kate asked, setting her drink down to grin at his face. “Is Bernard not getting along with the group, or is he getting along too well?”

Tim groaned in exasperation, which earned him a teasing pat on the back from his aunt. But after a pause, he admitted honestly, “It’s actually going surprising well. They’re having a lot of fun together which I figured they would because God knows they’re all crazy. But he already fits in so well with them. With us.” He couldn’t contain the relief that took over his voice and forced a smile to his lips. “I’m really glad.”

Kate’s grinned, happy for him. “That’s great, Tim.”

He nodded. And since he felt a little more comfortable, he had a question for his more experienced aunt. “So, in your opinion, how many Christmas presents are an appropriate amount for a situation like this? Because I kind of panic-bought a bunch of stuff last month and I wasn’t sure what he would want, so I was thinking I could just…”

She cut him off with a sigh. “Like father, like son”.

Between holiday movies, Dick suddenly declared it was time for presents. As was a tradition started in his first years as Bruce’s ward and well into Jason’s arrival on the rare occasions Dick would be in the manor. Dick got to pick when the presents were opened but Jason could pick who opened them in what order. Their biases had caused more than a few tussles each year, but that was fine. Childish moments like these made family events normal and fun.

They passed down the line of people, revealing gags gifts but also some truly sentimental ones. On Bernard’s turn, he opened the singular gift Tim had left under the tree (the others were hidden away in the in-home gym) and gave his boyfriend a playfully exasperated look at the WayneTech laptop. “You have a problem, babe.”

“How could you say that?” Tim demanded, trying to look as innocent as possible. “You said you needed a new one before the next school term. I was just looking out for your academic success.”

“Right. And this has nothing at all to do with the dirty looks you kept shooting my old model, or the ads for computers that were popping up on your desktop.”

“Complete coincidence.”

The blond snorted, not buying that for a second. Despite that, he cupped Tim’s cheek and pulled him in for a quick peck on the lips. Tim hooked pressed into it, turning it to a proper kiss while ignoring the jeers of his family for the PDA. They pulled apart soon enough and turned to see who would next be given a present, when Duke passed a box their way.

“Another to Bernard.”

Bernard sent Tim an actually exasperated look but the raven-haired man shook his hands. “This one isn’t from me. I swear.”

“It’s from…Bruce?” Bernard gawked at the gift tag before both boys turned to the patriarch. Bruce gave a nod, wearing a contained smile that meant he was up to something. Bernard looked down at the professionally-wrapped box, tension rolling off his shoulders, until Tim reached over to rip the paper down the middle. His boyfriend squawked in outrage, which earned laughter from the other bats. But it did get him over his nerves enough to pulled away the paper and open the monogrammed box inside.

It was a dinner suit, from a high-end store in the Diamond District. “I heard that Condiment King ruined your clothes when he attacked at the Thanksgiving Gala,” Bruce explained, reading the terror in Bernard’s eyes. “So consider this my Thank-You gift, seeing as you helped direct the civilians to safety. It’s the least I can do.”

The pieces were made of a dark fabric but the jacket was embroidered with beautiful flowers that made it tastefully eye catching. Perfectly Bernard.

If this was a few years ago, Bernard might have keeled over at the very idea of accepting such an expensive gift. Tim was a little proud to see he’d gotten the other used to things like that. He definitely did not have a problem.

“Wow, thank you, Bruce,” Bernard said, his voice breathy with awe as put the box lid back on. “I’ll have to find a good time to try it out.”

“If I may, Mr. Dowd,” Alfred stepped forwards, pulling an envelop from his jacket, “I believe this might be just the place for such a garment.”

Th envelope passed from Tim to Bernard, though the vigilante looked over his boyfriend’s shoulder as he pulled out two tickets to the Gotham Theatre house. “Oh, that’s for that spring performance. The one Lisa Adder has a part in, right?"

Bernard’s excitement was palpable. “I’d haven’t seen her since Grieves closed, but I’d heard she’d gotten into this show. I wanted so much to see at least one of her performances. Thank you, Alfred!”

“It’s my pleasure, young man. Anything to support a love of the arts.”

Tim took both the suit and the tickets, setting them aside with Bernard’s new laptop. But by the time he turned back around, there was yet another present being handed over to his boyfriend.

And another. And several more.

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” Bernard stuttered, unsure of what to do with all of this sudden attention. He looked over each wrapped box like it might contain a king’s treasure. Like he wasn’t worthy of all of it and much much more. “I didn’t…I’m not…”

“You are Tim’s person,” Cass said, stepping forwards to take his hand in hers. “You are a part of us now.”

“Geez, Cass,” Tim muttered, face blushing at her insinuation. She winked at her younger brother, then handed over the next gift for Bernard to unwrap. Jason made a noise of annoyance at his Order Decider rights being neglected, but he made no actual attempt to interrupt. The others leaned in to see what Bernard's next reaction would be.

Tim turned to Kate, lounging in one of the armchairs, flipping her dog-tags around on their necklace chain. She smiled back at him.

‘You knew,” Tim communicated with a squint of his eyebrows.

‘They wanted to surprise you too,’ she telegraphed back with a shrug.

Tim watched his family interact with his boyfriend, pulling him just a little more into their world. Showing him they cared.

He looked back at his aunt with a smile to say ‘Thanks.’ And was answered with a returning ‘Anytime.’

Tim wouldn’t be able to give Bernard the other Christmas gifts after this; his head would be spinning for weeks. But that was perfectly okay.

He’d just have to save them for Valentine’s Day.

---

I didn't have time to put in the other gifts, but be sure some of them were evidence of the bats' stalking habits. Bruce and Alfred can at least be subtle about it. Tim will act all defensive about that...mostly because they figured out gifts for Bernard that he hadn't even considered.

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Twenty-Questions

TimBer Week 2024 Day #1: Twenty-Questions/Party Games

Set in high school years, after Bernard meets the Drakes. Tim is kind of a try-hard at party games. Bernard is a dirty cheater.

Study sessions were Tim's most common after-school activity these days. He, Bernard, and sometimes Darla would hang out and yet never accomplish any real studying. Since Darla was unavailable today, the boys had forgone the library to instead hang out at Tim's house. His parents wouldn't be back until later, so they were free to take over the living room.

Textbooks were spread out on the coffee table, the Xbox was stashed in the hall closet, and Tim had already threatened to duct tape a pencil to Bernard's hand if he didn't stop trying to derail their efforts with his bigfoot-sighting videos…when the electricity cut off.

"Should have seen that coming," Bernard remarked as Tim brought the emergency lamp in from his bedroom, enough to cast a small glow over Tim’s armchair and Bernard’s spot on the coach. "Power outages always get bad on this side of town during the winter months. I meant to warn you about that."

Tim waved him away, settling back into his seat with a sigh. "I guess study group is over. Were you going to head home now?"

Bernard draped himself over the couch pillow, holding a dainty wrist to his forehead as if the very thought made him weak. "And leave you in the dark, all on your own, with just your crazy elevator boy to look out for you? It’s like you don’t know me at all, Drake!"

Tim scoffed. "Bernard, of all the guys I've been friends with, I'd say you’re the least cryptic of them all." Tim had run an extensive background check on Bernard after their week of knowing each other, paranoid about any more surprises from the people he made friends with. He’d found no vigilante affiliations, no alcoholism or online gambling addictions, and no evidence of him being the secret heir to a terrorist cult. Bernard was as regular a teen boy as Gotham ever saw.

Bernard turned his face so that their eyes met across the dim lamp light, watching Tim with a disbelieving smirk. Tim cocked an eyebrow, daring him to claim otherwise.

"Well then, how about we put that assertion to the test?" The blond reached for the abandoned notebook and pen between them, quickly scribbled something across the sheet of paper. He then tore it out of the book, made a grand display of folding in half and tucked it behind his back. "Time to put your money where your mouth is, Drake. Twenty-Questions! You're B+ average self against my own astounding genius!"

Tim was not a stranger to challenges, neither in his vigilante teams nor among his civilian friends. Oftentimes, he felt they were completely unnecessary, just wasting energy to prove something that he already knew himself capable of. As long as he wasn’t humiliated in front of someone he really respected, he didn't rise at just anyone's baiting.

However, since becoming friends with Bernard Dowd, he'd found himself prone to showing off quite a lot lately. Any time the other boy said "I bet I could do this better than you", Tim fell right into his trap with little thought to his ex-secret identity. So far, the only things he had never beaten the other at were video game related.

Bernard was challenging him, Robin (retired though he may be), to a game of deduction. Tim felt his grin turning feral at the thought. God, he wouldn't even know what hit him. "You're on." 

Let the Game Begin!

Question 1: Was it a living thing?

Bernard groaned. "You are so boring, Drake. No one starts out that specifically."

But the answer was yes.

Question 2: Was it a person Tim knew?

"Come on!" Now the other boy was whining, throwing out his arms in exasperation. "Humor me a little here, or it won't be any fun!"

But yes.

Tim opened his mouth to ask the gender of the person, his sharpened mind knowing exactly what questions would break through any potential traps…but then he actually looked at Bernard's face. He was hard to read sometimes, always determined to keep his calm-and-cool act in full force, but the façade could crack now and then. And right now, something like disappointment was screaming from the set of his shoulders, the twist of his mouth.

Tim felt suddenly like a bad friend, being so try-hard over what was really just a game. Bernard was being silly, just as always; so maybe Tim could afford to be silly, too.

Question 3: Was it a famous person?

That vague inquiry brought Bernard back up to his previous energy, a genuine smile growing on his face before he forced it into the usually laid-back grin. "Yes."

Hmmm, that was not quite where Tim had thought this would go, but that definitely made the game more fun.

Question 4: Did the person live in America?

Bernard paused to think for a moment, stroking his chin dramatically. "Yes?" The hesitance in his tone was slipped into Tim's growing data set as "Origin Unknown".

Question 5: Did this person currently live in Gotham?

Now Bernard was the one with a crazed smile. "Yes. For now."

Were sentences like that allowed in Twenty-Questions? Tim was pretty sure they weren't, but it did give him a bit more information to use, so he would allow it. Bernard’s chatty nature was going to be his undoing.

Question 6: Was the person dangerous?

"No."

Damn it. There went Tim’s theory it was going to be a cryptid or urban legend. Bernard would definitely use a game like this to segway into more of his conspiracy theories. And that answer also meant it wasn't going to be any of the common Gotham villains, either.

Question 7: Was this person a hero?

“I think so, personally." Bernard threw his arms behind his head as he lounged against the cushions, a picture of ease. Tim smirked at his blatant confidence, feeling even more excited to take him down.

Question 8: Did that person wear a cape?

"No."

Oh, okay then, not a vigilante. So…maybe a public servant? Commissioner Gordon was pretty famous and he was definitely heroic.

Question 9: Did the person wear a badge?

"No."

Question 10: Did the person wear a uniform?

"No."

Tim propped his chin on his wrist, turning his gaze to the side as he reconfigured his mental schematics. They were already halfway through the game but he felt even more in the dark than when they started. He tried not to sink into serious mode, reminding himself he wasn't in work-mode and this wasn't a case with someone’s life on the line. It was just a game with his goofy friend.

Still, if he wanted to win, he might have to start getting his questioning back on track. He'd already humored Bernard enough.

Question 11: Was the person female?

Bernard shrugged. "Maybe."

Tim wanted to jump over the coffee table and strangle him. "Wha- that is not how this works! You have to give me an actual answer."

"Au contraire, mon ami. If you'd ever played one of those digital versions of this game, you'd know that they always include a ‘Maybe’ option. Don't get mad at me if you jumped into this while uninformed.”

Tim growled, ready to call this whole thing off if Bernard was just going to be an ass about it. This game was his idea.

Bernard grinned his way, radiating smug energy. "Hey, you don’t have to play the game. But you would have to concede that you didn't win it, either. Sherlock Holmes wouldn't have given up that fast, I bet."

They kept going.

Question 12: Was the person old?

"No."

Question 13: Was the person still alive?

"Yes."

Question 14: Was Bernard acquainted with that person?

"Very well," Bernard said, his smile slipping into something a bit softer than before. Until he caught himself and turned his face to the side. "Uh, I mean, yes."

Tim wasn't deflected, staring at his friend who was determined to stare into the dark corner of the room. He couldn't hide the sudden redness of his ears, though.

Darla. He was talking about Darla.

With that realized, Tim felt his shoulders slump, all the tension and energy gone in a flash. God, this guy was so predictable. Even after months of just being friends with her, he still had a crush on their classmate. It was so annoying. 

No point in dragging this out any further. Tim would rather just sit in silence.

Question 15: Did the person go to their school?

"Not all the time. Uh, I mean, maybe."

Tim's brain exploded.

"Did I stump you?" the blond laughed at the obvious shock on his face.

Tim ignored his taunts, cycling all of this data over and over, scattered by both this strange answer that just didn’t fit with his previous conclusion and the weird rush of relief that battled for his attention. He shoved both of them away and focused. If he was turning into a try-hard again, sue him.

So, objectively, Bernard was cheating. Not just his bullshit "maybe's" but also all these additional sentences he was "accidentally" slipping in. No, that was intentional, made to confuse Tim with unnecessary information. Could he even be outright lying? Nah, Bernard liked to win too and getting caught with deliberate falsehoods would make him a bad sport. He wasn't lying, just keeping it all vague for the sake of his punchline.

Tim was running out of questions now, but he still had to throw out one more test. A dangerous gamble.

Question 16: Did this person have dark hair?

"Yes."

A straight answer, said with full confidence, that cut his list of potential suspects in half.

Data Currently Collected: a person whose hair was publicly known (cut out a portion of the vigilantes in Gotham) and was dark colored, heroic, famous, no cape, young, possibly goes to their school. That "not always" comment might still keep Darla in the game, since she sometimes missed classes for "family things". Other possibles would be students known to cut classes which wasn't an insignificant number. Even Tim would sometimes…

His eyes widened, train of thought grinding to a halt even as his analytical mind kept spinning, weaving the data into a new theory against his wishes.

Skipped classes, dark-haired young, famous…

Did his name still circulate through envious mouths, months after the lockdown? Were there still videos online of him meeting the president? Forgotten posters with his face on it tossed aside in street gutters?

And what Bernard had looked like when he answered Question 14, that quiet but obvious happiness at just the thought of that person….

Tim swallowed, not sure why the idea of that look being for him made his hands suddenly clammy.

Question 18: Did Bernard spend a lot of time with the person?

"Yes."

Question 17: Was Bernard friends with them?

"Yes." Bernard grinned hard, no smugness in that look at all, though he quickly turned away again. Like he had to be embarrassed about his own enthusiasm.

Oh shit.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

"Three questions left, Drake. Better make them count."

"Are you gonna use another ‘maybe’ answer?" If he said yes, Tim would quit this game in protest and never have to think about this ever again.

Bernard turned to look at him, scanning his face. Then quietly, "No. I'll be honest."

And that terrified Tim even more.

Question 18: …Did Bernard like the person?

"Yes." The flood of red on Bernard's cheeks sent a rush of confused emotions through Tim. He couldn't tell if they were good or bad. "Two more questions, Drake."

Question 19: …

"Or do you want to just take a guess?"

A part of Tim was scared to say it out loud, the very idea of what Bernard could mean by all of this…it would be like opening Pandora's Box. Nothing would be the same anymore. Forget about winning, Tim didn't know if he could survive making the right guess. If he could even process what it would mean for him just for guessing it right.

So, like a coward, he offered, "Darla Aquista?"

And in that instant, the tension broke, leaving jagged edges between them.

Bernard looked away, his smile turned melancholy. "Wow, Drake, I guess…I guess you do know me pretty well." He pulled the paper out from behind his back, though Tim could see how his fingers trembled. Tim was shaking too, not sure if he was ready for what was written on it. If he should play being pompous about his win and tell Bernard he didn't need to show him the proof. If he could just…

"However…I guess you don't know me quite that well!"

In two quick moves, Bernard slammed the paper down on the dimly-lit coffee table and with a laugh that the Joker would envy, flipped over the back of the couch. Tim, shocked, glanced down at the paper which had been left writing up.

Dana (Pre-Dye job)

Outrage like he had never known flooded through Tim, ripping a scream from his throat that was as thunderous as a war cry. He cleared the table, lamp, and coach back in one summersault, then ran after his absolute asshole of a classmate.

"You piece of shit! You freaking lying garbage heap!"

"There were no lies involved. Only slanted truths!"

"That is not how this game works!"

"Excuses of the outwitted!"

Some days later, Jack would be cleaning around the house and find a piece of paper slipped between the cushions of his couch. He would ask his wife about it, but she wouldn't have an explanation for why their son's name was written on it.

----

Bernard is a troll who had no intention to play this game fairly from the start. If Tim thought he would and let his guard down, that was on him!

Why yes, I am a fan of Kaguya-Sama: Love is War. How could you tell?

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024 Announcement

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

Final Prompts for TimBer Week 2024

TimBer Week 2024 starts December 15th, but for people who want to participate and need a head start, I now have the prompts to use. If you prefer to wait until the big day, don't read past the image.

Good luck and Have Fun!

Here's what the wheel decided.

Sunday, Dec 15: Twenty-Questions (or other party games)

Monday, Dec 16: Gifts from the In-Laws (Waynes to Bernard/Dowds to Tim/Either Party to Both)

Tuesday, Dec 17: Most Eligible Bachelor/Man of the Year

Wednesday, Dec 18: Lazy Days

Thursday, Dec 19: Class Reunion (From Any School or School Year)

Friday, Dec 20: Bernard's Birthday

Saturday, Dec 21: First Sleepover (Teen-Years or Adult-Years)

Any other prompts on the wheel, or just that you want to explore, are also fully encouraged. It's all up to you how you want to celebrate our boys!

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

Timber Week 2024 - Potential Prompts

I decided that rather than get a generator to spit out cliché ideas, I'd just make up a big list that felt very TimBer-Friendly and maybe put them on a wheel to pick the final 7 once it gets closer to the deadline.

Here's what I have so far, but I'll probably add to it:

Anniversary

Bachelor of the Year

Bernard's Birthday

Breakfast for Two (or More)

Bring Your SO to Work

Class Reunion

Dinner with the Dowds

Field Trip

First Sleepover

Gifts from the In-Laws

Green-Eyed Monster

Gym Partners

Keep Me Company

Laundry Day

Lazy Days

Meet the Team

Netflix and Chill

Pet Sitting

Prom Reinactment

Return of the RedBoard

Road Trip

Running Away Together

Shopping Trip

Spring Cleaning

Trivia Night

Twenty-Questions

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

Timber Week 2024 - Potential Prompts

I decided that rather than get a generator to spit out cliché ideas, I'd just make up a big list that felt very TimBer-Friendly and maybe put them on a wheel to pick the final 7 once it gets closer to the deadline.

Here's what I have so far, but I'll probably add to it:

Anniversary

Bachelor of the Year

Bernard's Birthday

Breakfast for Two (or More)

Bring Your SO to Work

Class Reunion

Dinner with the Dowds

Field Trip

First Sleepover

Gifts from the In-Laws

Green-Eyed Monster

Gym Partners

Keep Me Company

Laundry Day

Lazy Days

Meet the Team

Netflix and Chill

Pet Sitting

Prom Reinactment

Return of the RedBoard

Road Trip

Running Away Together

Shopping Trip

Spring Cleaning

Trivia Night

Twenty-Questions

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

Last Chance for Timber Week 2024

I REALLY don't want to just let Timber Week 2024 go without a fight. It's not July anymore, it's the last month of the year. I'm not the Fandom Official Timber Week account.

But...

Should I just make my own Timber Week? I'm asking honestly because I've NEVER been a part of a fandom this way. Messing up big official things in someone else's domain scares me! I'm TERRIFIED of failure.

But I really really love Bernard Dowd. And I really really love Tim Drake. And I really REALLY love their ship. DC has been silent on Bernard for so long, I don't want him to disappear without at least trying to keep this small part of the community going, even if it's just in name.

The only meaningful date left for them is the anniversary of Bernard's first appearance, December 17. So this would have to be the week of that date: December 15 thru December 21.

So maybe I's asking permission from the void: Can I make a TimBer Week 2024, even if it's just me? My own randomized prompts and my own created works? Is that allowed?

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

Bernard Dowd: It's the Little Things

There's a lot of little things about Bernard that you'd miss if you aren't looking closely. Like right here from TD:R #2:

Proof that he's one of those people who likes to use TWO straws at the same time. It's not a big important thing, just a cute little quirk. I love it

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

Timber Week 2024?

Am I missing something or did it just not happen this year?

I'm kinda new to the community, so I wanted to take part in Timber Week this year but...is it just not a thing anymore?!