I saw the post and immediately thought of these two lmao,, Tim has had enough of this tomfoolery
lol XD enjoy!
Grace Drake-Kent believes there is only one true downside to having two dads–The endless dad jokes.
“I dunno, babe,” Kon chuckles, “I never trust stairs. They’re always up to something.”
“Or lead to your down fall.” Tim snorts. Grace rolls her eyes at their dumbness, stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork. “You good there, Gracie goo?”
“Trying to remember if Aunt Cassie said the Themscyria thing was only for summers or if I can move there.” The 16 year old smiles at her dads, one they both have used on each other over the years. I might be joking, but do you really want to keep pushing and find out how serious I am?
“You’d miss Dahli and Asha too much.” Tim points out, “Even if you didn’t miss us like you always do.”
“Nutter Butter,” Kon snorts, “You almost broke your dad’s ribs last time you got back, hugging him so hard.”
“Did he die?”
“Felt like I did.” Tim laughs, getting up to head to the kitchen. He kisses his husband as he passes by, “But your dad gave me some life saving kisses to help.”
Grace rolls her eyes as her fathers’ kiss again, “You two are the reason Aunt Cassie doesn’t trust men anymore.”
Someone to Lose
“Blood son my ass” Tim hissed as the door opened with a click. The manor was quiet, it was delicate and unloved, and for those reasons he knew for a fact nothing had changed. Maybe he was dreaming, maybe Janet and Jack were just on another expedition.
No, this time they weren’t coming back, instead long gone, forgotten and already starting to deteriorate in their oh so lovely tombs.
The manor would be out of the drake name by the end of the month. He’d allow it to be sold fully furnished and he’d take only his parents belongings with him. Tim decided he’d donate prizes they’ve brought home from expeditions to museums, the clothes would be mostly donated, jewelry pawned, and the rest? Maybe a nice storage container.
Believe it or not, but time apart from the toxic duo was relieving. Tim couldn’t see the abuse till their passing, but now he felt like he could breath. It felt almost similar to the rush he first got as robin.
Right…robin. A lost title. Dead, just like the many other special things and people in his life. All dead and buried in the back of his mind, people and things he once cherished, unlike Janet and Jack.
No more isolation, no more punches or slaps, no more mind controls and manipulation. He was free, free of parental harm and supervision, maybe he’d throw a party? He didn’t know who he’d invite. The only ones he’d care to party with were long gone, his choices in people seemed to be instead dwindling.
“That’s why we make more friends, Timothy,” he mocked his mother’s voice. Only, in the ways she meant it, it wasn’t to make friends, just slaves and people to do ones bidding, mere pawns. It was tempting, too, maybe manipulation and abuse were somehow in his DNA, maybe he was more like them than he thought.
The boy plopped down on the sofa in the sitting room, stiff, barely used just like the rest of the house. He glanced around, noticing the way the doorways arched and the carpet caved in under the legs of the opposite sofa and the million dollar coffee table in front of him. There was a bar in the corner, still fully stocked with his mother’s champagne and his father’s brandy, when was the last time it had been touched? Silence settled in then. It was cold and brutal, yet comforting in a nostalgic way of his adolescence.
Tim felt a sudden sense of pride then. He’d survived. He was on his own, all alone, no longer a puppet to dead Janet, no longer a punching bag to Jack. “I won,” he stated to the house, running a hand through his overgrown hair, a smile curving at the corners of his lips. It was victory at last, he could almost taste it on his lips, cracked and brittled. It was the sour type of victory, the kind felt after revenge. They were dead after all, and the part of him that did love them, felt guilty for not doing more, but out of all the loss he’d faced lately, maybe these deaths he could alter into a slight win, rather than a typical lose.
“I won,” he restated, this time standing up and strutting over to the bar. He pulled out a bottle of champagne from the mini fridge along with a long glass. He’s done so all the many times before, pouring his mother a flute of champagne and his father a shot of brandy, only this time it wasn’t for them, and the alcohol wouldn’t be accompanied with loud fights and more often than not Jack taking it out on his son. He took his glass, champagne poured nearly to the brim.
“To the drakes!” The teen exclaimed with a grin, the liquid sloshing around as he raised the glass to no one. Tim took a glance around the room, giving each piece of furniture, wall, and conversation piece a lively and proud look before he allowed himself to continue, “may we all burn in hell.”
Whumptober 2020: Day 18 - Panic! At the disco
Prompt: Panic attacks
Summary: Knowing that something was wrong, Tim really should have said something to Kon instead of letting him enter the training stimulator. It looks like their communication still needs to be worked on after all.
“Well, that was easier than expected.” Tim grins as he walks out of the stimulator. From where they had been watching behind the window, his friends stare at him with deadpan expressions.
“Easy huh?” Cassie comments raising an eyebrow. “Alright Mr. Tough Guy, next time we’ll notch it up two levels and we’ll see how easy that’ll be.”
“Sounds great.” Tim smiles and walks over to the controls. He starts changing and adapting them for Cassie’s turn. “Alright, Wonder Girl, you’re up next. Ready when you are.” Cassie snorts and enters the training stimulator and Tim moves to stand by the window where Kon and Bart were awaiting their goes.
I missed my boys
I think Tim and Jason would be the clostest of all the bat siblings.
After a few joined cases together and late night/early morning breakfast and just over all accidently getting to know eachother better, they realise how similar they are.
Jason finds out that-
“Wait you don’t see yourself as part of the family?”
“Of course not, I was never your replacement Jason I was just a place holder till someone better came along, and they did, Damian’s robin now”
He sees how broken Tim is after everything that’s happened to him and makes it his personal mission to help him and be there for himwhen no one else is.
And Tim, when Jason get particularly angry, finds out about-
“Your eyes are glowing green.”
Tim realised that even after all these years the Lazarus pit still has some form of control over Jase. Since then he is always patient whenever Jason is angry or irritated and never blames him if he loses his temper.
- Jason apologises for the times that he tried to kill him and the scar that he left on Tim’s throat. BUT Tim never blamed him for it, he knew that it was the pits influence and he wasn’t all there. Yeah it hurt that his childhood hero tried to kill him the first time he met him but they’re on good terms now and that’s all he cares about.
“Jay if you can honestly tell me that all the things you did when you came back was all you and not the Pit, then yeah I’ll probably punch you or kick you in the balls”
“Exactly now shut up and hug me so we can go get pizza”
Jase calls Tim “babybird” and “lil red” cause I say so
- Jason cooks for him so that Tim actually eats something with nutritional value, which leads to movie nights and falling asleep at Tim’s loft.
- Eventually he just sorta, somehow, starts living there most of the time
Tim is the one who gets Jason integrated back into the family. Hes the one who stops Jason when he gets into heated arguments with Bruce before it gets physical, and the family is just like w h a t just happened.
When Dick organises a sleepover at the manor for all the bat kids Jason is dragged along by Timmy but he “won’t stay the night, no way dickface”. When Bruce comes up after patrol to check on all the kids, he sees Jason sleeping with Dami’s back pressed against him and Tim curled up into his side with Jase’s arm around him.
- They re both huge theater nerds and love musicals, fight me on this I dare you.
They would sit on window sills or balcony’s smoking and watching the sunrise, sometimes talking when they need too, sometimes just being there for eachother after a particularly bad night
- Tim would bond with Roy over robots and mechanics, and Jason would bond with Kon over motorcycles and leather jackets.
- Kon would thank Jason for looking after Tim while he was dead. “You ever leave him again I will personally resurrect you and kill you again myself baby super”
- Jason would be so reluctant to move in with Roy and Lian cause “he’s not allowed to have good things” And after an intense emotional session (with a few tears) Tim would be the one to knock some sense into him.
And yes they would most certinaly be each others best men at their weddings
During a mission Jason’s gun points to a thug behind Tim and he freezes up, Jason then thinks that Tims still scared of him. He basically has a breakdown thinking that’s his (best) friend is scared of him-
“You froze up Tim you can’t just pretend like that didn’t happen, that you’re not scared”
“Do you really think that I would hang out with you, let you cook me food and sleep at my house if I was scared of you!!
Tim then bear hugs Jason “you could stab me right now and I wouldn’t be able to stop you and yet here I am, does it look like I’m scared?”
Reluctantly Jason let’s up “okay okay fine….you can let go now…. Tim…. T i m”
Tim does not in fact let go and Jason has to grapple them both home that night.
It’s fine, I’m fine I’ll just be crying in the corner thinking abt all this.
It had to be done.
Adderall is so good
“Make me gay, cowards!”
I’m so glad you love them🥺🥰
Those videos name is edits and I love making them even if they are horrible..
And right now I’m making another one for Timkon and this is the intro:
It’s real sad boy hours 💙❤️
Tho wasn’t there a quote that if this fails, the whole company does? Cause, with all these bad ideas, it’s just not helping. I’m hoping after Death Metal, they do actually go back to what they had because they talked so often, not so much now. TT was full of them, but around RR there were like 3 perfect moments to kiss, it could’ve convincenly happened at any point.
Which brings back to my theory that DC let that article get published and advertised so to remind people that they would’ve happened. And picking up exactly where they left off in 2011 would result in them finally getting together. Wishful thinking, but I need hope.
The feeling of things was always held up high on a pedestal in Conner Kent’s eyes. Passing fingers on smooth surfaces, scratching lightly on granular passings.
The feeling of bare skin, the autonomy of consent. The warmth of his breath, the swift brush of his lips.
“Tim, I need to leave. I need to go, now,” He was standing by the doorframe, his shoulder leaned against such. Tim was sitting on a desk chair, his feet swinging below. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Kon made sure to look away as he said the following.“I- they need me.”
“No you- no you don’t!” Tim stood from his chair, a small limp on his right foot. His eyebrows knotched into a frown, his lips parted in disgust, an expression much different from the one a few seconds ago. “They don’t- They don’t need you, Kon! They just- they just want to use you,” Tim’s voice failed him. Kon reached his hand out to the doorframe, just a few centimeters in front of his shoulder. He He started tapping the doorframe lightly with his index finger, the feeling of harsh wood toying with his senses.
Tim had his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re going to get hurt, really hurt, and then they’re going to leave you.They don’t care about what happens you, Kon. They just want your powers and your strength, it’s going to drain, and then… and then you won’t be here anymore.”
Kon took back his hand from the doorframe. He walked towards Tim. “Maybe they don’t need me, but others do. Only Supers in battle, remember?” His throat was dry, for every word that came out of his mouth was contradicting to what he felt.
Tears prickled at Tim’s eyelids. “Then I will go with you,” he reached for his uniform. “You can’t go alone, besides, I-”
Kon reached for his arm, using his super-speed. The immediate touch of their skin, a milisecond-lasting feeling, it was cold, unreceiving. “You can’t go. Not even Batman is going, it’s just us Supers, you guys won’t survive out there.”
“I don’t care, Kon! You can’t go on some suicide mission, just because Clark is demanding it!” Tim wiped falling tears from his cheeks with his loose hand. “You’re going, then so am I…” Kon pursed his lips. He wanted to tell Tim that he was right, that he couldn’t possibly go on a suicide mission just for Clark’s wishes, but lives were at stake, a threat that humans alone won’t survive against. Kon would need his invulnerability, and he would have to leave.
Tim was going to stay, he was going to be alright.
“You know you can’t go, Tim! You- you’re not indestructible, I can’t throw you onto my battles.” The first lie that walked across his mind. Kon’s grip on Tim’s arm was getting tighter, but both their expressions stayed the same.
The feeling of exposed skin, Kon always held it on an even higher pedestal. Most feelings possible, always contacted with skin. The gush of dusty air, smiling against his hands. The warmth of Tim’s wrist, held by Kon without permission.
“Just- Just promise me-” Tim’s face melted into a frown. Troubled thoughts seemed to cross his mind, decisions, rash or not, battling for a last say in the conversation. “You’re going to be back?”
Kon smiled weakly at him. He let go of Tim’s wrist, he wanted to reach for his cheek. He wanted to lift his chin and kiss him, he wanted to feel Tim’s hair against his forehead, to feel Tim’s lips smile against his own. He wanted a chance to say his proper goodbyes.
“You’re going to be back, right?” Tim straightened his position. He stretched his sleeve further, he wiped his cheek. “Right, Kon?”
Conner Kent gasped for air, his eyes widened in terror. A cell the color of midnight, profound, rich, black. A heavy collar on his neck, both his arms and legs stretched out, held back with chains. Fabric hanging by threads, the stick of blood molding them together. Faint laughs in distance, slams of metal doors. A large figure from the shadows, produced only by the fainted green light above him.
Kon stretched his fingers, he ran them through the magnetic handcuffs, his fingers slipping in his own lukewarm blood.
His neck hurt when he looked down at his bare chest, at the black embedded kryptonian symbol of hope, at the skin closing overtop, at the black ink stretching out to his arms.
His eyes hurt when he kept them open for long, trying to take in the whole of his surroundings, and everytime he closed his eyes, his eyelids held the threat of never opening again.
His lips hurt when he breathed too heavily, when he screamed, when he whispered Tim’s name over and over.
‘Just promise me,’ he had said. ‘You’re going to be back?’
Kon ran his tongue past his lips, dry, salty, rough. He remembered wanting to touch him, one last time.
Kon smiled bitterly. “Remember, Tim?” His words echoed past and through the walls of the cell. “You had asked me if I was coming back, and then-”
His smile faltered, a smaller wound on the corner of his lip opened. He brushed his lip past the wound, he flinched when it hurt as expected.
Nonetheless, he continued.
“You had asked me If I w-was coming back,” He let himself laugh a bit, yet it ended abruptly, for he remembered what happened next, “And then you kissed, me, Timbers. You kissed me an-”
Kon hung his head limp, he slid his finger in the blood of the moment. That surely wasn’t how it went, was it?
“You kissed me, Tim. And then… And then I stayed with you, Timmy, I stayed with you.”
Kon whispered into the dark, he swayed his head side to side, softly.
“And we lived happily every after.”