I was surprised at the response I got from my last timbersteph post! Neat!! I made you some more ✨✨
Stephanie, 6’0:
Bernard, 5’7 and staring up at her with wide eyes:
Stephanie: “?”
Bernard: “Could you chokeslam me into the pavement, please?”
Stephanie: “?!?!??”
Tim, (5’5 but irrelevant) walking past while eating energy drink mix from the container with a spoon dry: “He means ‘you’re really pretty and I am highly flustered by you.’”
--
Bruce, walking into the library: “Tim, Steph– do any of you know what happened to my–”
Bernard, trapped on a loveseat while being clung onto by two sleeping vigilantes: “Heyyy papa bats! :D”
Bruce, sighing: “I asked you not to call me that.”
Bernard: “Well, you’re the one who shut down ‘daddy bats’ because it was ‘weird.’”
Bruce, already regretting walking in here: “That’s because it is.”
Bernard: “Oh! Sorry, is that reserved for Superman? I don't mean to cross any wires there.”
Bruce, choking: “Super– Clar– If anything he,,, I don't, we—”
Bernard: “I obviously don't blame you of course. I'd hit too if I could. Though– there's an abundance of fandom discourse on which one of you takes the lead in bed, so if you could help me win a bet, that'd be–”
Bruce, already stumbling out of the room like he's been punched in the gut: “Leaving. Goodbye.”
Bernard, snickering: “He’s gone now.”
Stephanie, sitting up: “Oh thank god. I need to find a way to blame spilling glitter all over the batsuit on Dick. Again.”
Tim, who actually fell asleep ten seconds after closing his eyes:
--
Stephanie, eating ice cream cake in the dark:
Tim, coming into the kitchen and turning on the light:
Steph: (・_・;)
Tim, very still: “Is that my fucking buttered baguette ice cream cake with strawberry syrup filling that you're eating in secret at 4 am.”
Stephanie, wiping her mouth frantically: “I was going to replace it–”
Tim: “Because it really looks like my fucking buttered baguette ice cream cake with strawberry syrup filling that I have been thinking of for the past five days to keep me anchored to this miserable diseased plane of existence.”
Stephanie: “–and I was going through serious PMS cravings Tim I needed ice cream or else I was going to die, Tim– and I thought you supposed to be on a mission in Florence!”
Tim: “I was, until my phone sent me a notification from my fridge saying that my buttered baguette ice cream cake with strawberry syrup filling was removed from my freezer and so I zeta'd over.”
Stephanie: “WHY DOES IT EVEN DO THAT?!?”
Tim: “BECAUSE YOU'RE ALWAYS EATING MY FUCKING FOOD.”
Steph: “IT TASTES LIKE SHIT ANYWAYS.”
Tim: “THEN WHY ARE YOU EATING IT!?”
Bernard, home from his shift and stepping into their apartment: “The hell are you yelling at four in the morning for???”
Tim, turning to Bernard: “Stephanie is eating my ice cream cake.”
Bernard: “That nasty strawberry butter bread one? Fucking finally, I wanted that shit out of my freezer.”
Stephanie, pointing her spoon at Bernard: “SEE?"
Tim screams:
--
Tim: “In light of recent events–”
Stephanie: “Bernard finding a radioactive fox at a toxic waste sight, taking it home, and it wrecking our apartment?”
Tim: “Yes.”
Stephanie: “And the other instance where he tried to 'tame' the crocodiles in the sewers, leading to two dozen of them parading the streets?”
Tim: “That also.”
Stephanie: “That’s not even mentioning–”
Tim: “We could go on for hours. I think we can agree the Bernard may be of the desire to have a pet.”
Stephanie: “Only maybe?”
Bernard, standing in the hallway and clutching a large backpack gently to his chest. It honks quietly.: “.... Is this a bad time to say I have baby geese in here?”
Bernard, still holding onto the bag, that is now slightly smoking: “Also, they breathe fire?”
Stephanie, signing: “Do polycules have insurance? I think we need insurance.”
Tim: “I’m pretty sure that's called a prenuptial.”
--
Bernard, sitting on the living room sofa with his hair covered in aluminum foil:
Stephanie, flopping down into his lap while snickering: An' here we see a conspiracy theorist in his purest from! Is it the aliens, Bernard? Do they worry you?”
Bernard, rolling his eyes: “Hardy har. I'm bleaching my hair?”
Stephanie: “Huh? You're already blonde, are you trying to go Draco Malfoy or something?”
Tim, who's seen Bernard's hair in highschool:
Bernard, who is a dark honey-blonde at best:
Stephanie: “....what's that look for?”
Bernard, grabbing onto Stephanie's hands: "Sweetie, Tim and I have something to tell you. We didn't know how to bring it up.”
Stephanie: “???”
Bernard: “I'm not a natural blonde.”
Stephanie: “WHAT?!??”
Tim, gravely: “That sense of betrayal you feel? I went through the very same thing.”
Bernard, huffing: “It's really not that serious-”
Stephanie: “What other lies have I been told by the council??”
Bernard: “Did I tell you that my sunglasses are prescription..?”
Tim, over Stephanie's choked back sob: “Your sunglasses are WHAT??”
Bernard: “I THOUGHT YOU K N E W.”
