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#tim one shot
newobsessionweekly · 4 months
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Puppy
Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist
Tim Bradford x fem!reader Fandom: The Rookie
Summary: While you visit Tim at the station, you are too nice to a teenager he just arrested. To your boyfriend's exasperation, you pay the bail for the kid and cook him a warm dinner.
Warnings: don't think so, pure fluff, not proofread yet
Fluff Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k
GIF not mine, credits to the owner.
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"So," Lucy began tentatively, stealing a glance at the sergeant. "I saw you the other day. Looking at those rings."
"Chen." Tim warned his aide.
"Are you proposing to Y/N?" she pressed, her excitement bubbling over.
"That's not your business."
But Lucy wasn't about to let it go. "Look," she said eagerly, "If you need help picking the ring, I can help. I can – I don't know, have a little talk, find out what kind of ring she wants."
"I've got this, thanks," his voice was tinged with a hint of annoyance.
"We both know you don't." Lucy leaned back, "An engagement ring is not just any jewelry she can hide in a closet if she doesn't like it."
"I think I know what she wants."
"Remember her birthday present?" she reminded him, earning an accusing glance from Tim. "Just saying. Please, at least consider it, for Y/N."
Lucy opened her mouth to say more, but Tim's eyes caught something up ahead. His expression shifted to one of relief, a welcome distraction from Lucy's insistence.
"Hold that thought."
She followed his gaze and saw a young boy attempting to break into a parked car. The kid couldn't have been more than fifteen, his hands fumbling nervously with the lock. Tim pulled the shop to a stop and got out, Lucy following closely behind.
"Dispatch, this is Sergeant Bradford. We've got a possible 459 in progress at the corner of 4th and Main."
"Hey! Step away from the car!" Tim called out, his voice authoritative.
The boy froze, his eyes wide with fear. He turned to run, but Lucy was already moving, cutting off his escape route. "It's okay," she said gently, her demeanor softening. "We're not here to hurt you."
Tim approached, his expression softening just a bit."What do you think you're doing?"
The boy stammered, "I—I wasn't going to steal it, I swear. I just... I need some money. My mom's sick, and we can't afford the meds."
The boy looked down at his feet and Lucy sighed, recognising the familiar signs of desperation. "Look, we can help you. But breaking into cars isn't the way to go."
"You need to come with us and tell us everything. We'll figure something out."
The shop was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the sound of Lucy's fingers tapping on her phone. Tim glanced over at her, his focus shifting between the road and his aide's ever-present curiosity.
"TouristPlanet says that Hawaii is number one for proposals," Lucy broke the silence, her eyes never leaving the phone.
"Chen, I don't need help. I've done it before, I know how it works," Tim replied, exasperated but with a hint of amusement.
Lucy ignored his brush-off. "Oh, but I love Y/N! I just want everything to be perfect for her. I mean, it's huge."
Tim sighed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "And you don't think I love her enough to make this special?"
"I didn't say that," Lucy replied quickly. "You've done it before, it's not a big deal for you. But it's her first proposal and she loves you."
"It is a big deal," Tim admitted, his voice softer now. "I think I love her even more than I loved Isabel back then. So it's more complicated now."
Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, a soft smile spreading across her face. "You have a heart after all."
"Chen. Shut up." he shot her a warning sideways glance, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Yes, sir."
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As you step into the bustling station, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sugary donuts fills the air, mingling with the sound of urgent radio chatter and shuffling footsteps. You clutch the cardboard tray tighter, a smile playing on your lips as you navigate through the familiar chaos, scanning the faces for Tim's unmistakable handsomeness.
Not finding him among the desks, you make your way to Grey's office, offering a cheery wave before stepping inside.
"Morning, Sarge."
Grey glances up from his paperwork, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y/N. Always a pleasure to have you around," he responds welcoming.
With a graceful motion, you offer him a cup of steaming coffee and gesture towards the assortment of donuts nestled in the box. The sergeant chuckles softly, accepting the offering with a nod of appreciation.
"Please do come more often," he jests, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"I'll keep that in mind," you reply playfully but your attention is elsewhere, your gaze still searching the room for that familiar figure. "You know where I can find Tim?"
With a knowing nod, Grey gestures for you to follow him as he leads the way towards the processing room. As you step inside, the atmosphere shifts from bustling activity to a more subdued intensity.
"Bradford. You have a visitor," Grey announces, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Tim looks up from his paperwork, his gaze meeting yours, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His gaze lifts, his expression softening at the sight of you standing there, a welcome interruption to the monotony of his day.
"Hey," he greets you, a flicker of surprise in his voice. "What are you doing here?"
You set the tray of treats down on a nearby table and close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. "Hey handsome," you reply, your voice muffled against his chest. "You left early and I thought you could use some coffee."
Tim’s strong arms pulled you closer, the familiar scent of his cologne mingles with the coffee and donuts, grounding you in the moment. You feel his strong, warm body melting in your arms and the steady beat of his heart, a gentle reminders of how much you love him.
Pulling back slightly, you look up into his eyes, which are now filled with a gentle warmth that belies his grumpiness.Tim’s hand finds yours, giving it a gentle squeeze before he releases you.
"You’re a lifesaver."
Lucy wander into the room, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the treats. "Y/N, you spoil us," she teases, reaching for a donut.
Your eyes drift across the room, settling on a teenage boy obediently following an officer's commands, his shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. Concern wells up inside you.
"Tim," you ask softly, nodding towards the boy, "what's with the kid? What's he doing here?"
He glances over at the kid, his expression hardening. "Kid tried to break into a car. Said he needed the money to pay for his mom's meds."
Your heart aches at the sight of the innocent boy, his face etched with fear and worry. "What's going to happen to him?" you ask, your voice soft with concern.
Tim sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "He'll probably get away with bail. First offense, and the circumstances are... mitigating."
Moved by the boy’s plight, you make a decision. “Tim, can I have your card?” you ask, reaching out your hand.
Your boyfriend eyes you warily, his brow furrowing. "Why?"
"Just trust me."
He frowns but doesn't question your request further. He fishes a card from his pocket and hands it to you. As you reach for the box of donuts, his frown deepens.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" he asks, his voice rising with annoyance.
You stop to meet his gaze, "Trust me, please."
Tim watches you walk over to the boy and kneel down, his jaw tightening. "This is ridiculous," he mutters under his breath, his grumpiness evident as he crosses his arms over his chest.
"Can I have a minute with him?" you ask Lucy, who is in the midst of processing the boy.
Lucy looks over at Tim, seeking his approval. His eyes narrow, but he gives a curt nod, though his frustration is palpable. Lucy steps aside, joining your boyfriend as they watch you with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Hi, there." you say softly, your voice kind and shooting, "I'm Y/N. What's your name?"
"Charlie."
"Well, Charlie, Sergeant Bradford told me you're in some kind of trouble." you say gently, your heart breaking at his situation.
The boy looks up at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I– I just want to help mom."
"I know, sweetheart. You hungry?" you ask, offering him a comforting smile.
Charlie nods, and you hand him the box full of donuts. His eyes widen in surprise and gratitude as he takes it.
You write your name and number on Tim's card and hand it to him. "It's gonna be okay for now. But if you have any other problems, please give us a call. If you don't want to talk to Bradford, you can call me, okay?"
"Thanks. I– I will," Charlie says, clutching the card like a lifeline.
"Where's your mom?" you ask, wanting to understand more about his situation.
"In hospital. She– uh, she has cancer and treatment is expensive."
"You stay with her at the hospital?" you ask gently, your mind already made up to help him.
Charlie nods, tears brimming in his eyes. Determined to do more, you know you'll pay his bail and offer any support you can.
Tim strides over, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern. His grumpiness, which had momentarily melted away, returns in full force. "Alright, that's enough," he says, his voice firm and edged with frustration. "We need to get things moving."
You stand up, giving Charlie one last reassuring smile. "Remember, call me if you need anything," you say before turning to Tim.
He looks at you, his irritation clear. "Y/N, you can't save everyone," he mutters, shaking his head. "This isn't your job."
You meet his gaze, "I know. But I can try to help one," you reply softly.
"You really shouldn't get involved like that," he says, his voice softer now, filled with concern.
"I know."
He sighs, reaching to take your hand into his. "But I love that about you. Just...promise me you'll be careful. For my sake."
You squeeze his hand, smiling warmly. "I promise."
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The end of the shift greets Tim and Lucy walking towards their cars, the sky darkening with the onset of evening. The station is quieter now, the earlier hustle and bustle giving way to the calm of a winding-down day. He's itching to get home, to feel the warmth and comfort of your presence, to escape the relentless grind of the day.
"Hey, Tim," Lucy starts, glancing at him curiously. "Did you pay the bail for that Charlie boy we arrested this morning?"
Tim raises an eyebrow, surprised. "No, why?"
"Because someone did," Lucy explains, frowning. "I checked, and he doesn’t have any other family besides his mom. I can't figure out who would have done it."
His eyes narrow, and then it hits him. "I think I know who."
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The drive home is a blur as he processes the day's events. When he finally steps through the front door, he’s greeted by the comforting aroma of dinner cooking and the sound of upbeat song playing in the background.
"Sweetheart, I'm home," he calls out, his voice echoing through the house.
You turn around, a bright smile on your face. "Hey, babe. Come, come. Dinner's almost ready."
Tim steps into the kitchen, and his eyes widen in pure shock as he spots Charlie sitting at the island, a plate of snacks in front of him.
"Y/N, a word," Tim says, his voice tight.
"Make yourself at home, Charlie. We'll be right back."
You give the kid a big smile while Tim forces a very strained one, then you follow him to the bedroom. He closes the door behind you with more force than necessary, his frustration evident.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Tim demands, his voice rising in anger.
"I know, I'm sorry. I should've talked to you. But I couldn't let him stay in jail. He's been sleeping in a hospital chair, Babe. God knows when it was the last time he had a proper, warm meal. There's no one to look after him."
Tim runs a hand through his hair, his anger barely contained. "I can't believe you did that. You’ve got ourselves a puppy," he mutters, his tone sharp.
"What?" you ask, confused.
"Nothing."
You place a gentle hand on his arm, your eyes pleading. "Tim, listen to me. This kid needs help. He's scared and alone. I couldn't just walk away."
You step even closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the tension in his muscles.
"You can't just bring home a stray. This is serious, Y/N. We're not a shelter."
"Charlie is not a stray, he needs help. His mom is in the hospital with cancer, and he's been trying to fend for himself," you explain, "We have the means to help him, at least for one night."
"This isn't just about money or means, Y/N. It's about safety and boundaries. We can't take in every kid with a sob story."
"I get that, but this isn't just any kid. You saw him today, baby. He's not a criminal; he's just a boy trying to help his mom," you argue, stepping closer to him. "We can't turn our backs on him."
Tim's frustration is simmering beneath the surface. "Damn it, Y/N. This is exactly why I worry about you. You have a big heart, and I don't want to see you get hurt."
You rested your head on his chest. "I know. But I can't just turn my back when someone needs help. I get involved because I care," you say softly, meeting his eyes, "And you care too, whether you want to admit it or not."
"I can't say no to you, can I?" he mutters, his voice a mix of exasperation and affection.
You smile up at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
Tim looks at you, his grumpiness warring with his love for you. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," he sighs again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you even closer, "Just one night," he says, "And then we figure out what to do next."
You nod, relief flooding through you. "I promise. Just one night."
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, his grumpiness is melting away, "You're impossible, you know that?" a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"I know," you reply, smiling back at him. "But you love me anyway."
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, I do," he admits, his voice tender. "Now let's go see how our guest is doing."
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littlelightfish · 5 months
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Funny things I found out playing with language setting in Netflix while looking episode 15:
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Chilchuck's scream sounds HAUNTED in brazilian portuguese. Give it a try if you can.
(You can hear it here)
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In spanish dub, Senshi says: "tocó mis senos de hombre", which means "he touched my man boobs" in Spanish. And I think that's the best dub line one so far.
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ghost-bxrd · 8 months
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Prompt:
Tim is the first to find out the Red Hood’s identity and from then on sticks to Jason during patrol like glue (much to Jason’s chagrin, dammit, it would feel wrong to beat up Robin when he’s that starry eyed…)
Cue: PANIC from the rest of the Batfamily, who still think Hood is a forty-something year old crime lord and now assume they’re dating.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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Dungeon Meshi: The RPG
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 6 months
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Hello, Happy Holy Ramadan. I know your request box is closed, but when your request box is opened, can you make this request? if it doesn't bother you, could you do Long Ramadan headcanons for Damian Wayne and the reader? I saw your Damian wayne x muslim reader post before. And I thought it was appropriate to ask you this. If this request bothers you, feel free to ignore it. Have a nice day 🩷🩷🩷🤚
Ramadan HCs
Muslim!Damian Wayne x Muslim!Reader
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hey there sweetheart and Ramadan Mubarak <3! firstly i'm so sorry that it took me so long to respond to the ask! im ashamed it took me a year honestly. requests are closed but i still wanted to be able to write for this because we obviously need more muslim representation and also the last time i posted the muslim hc for damian there were just so many of the readers who texted me or sent asks or commented saying that they really appreciated the representation
anyways i wasn't sure if i was going to respond or not because it has been a year but since it is currently Ramadan and it's going to end very soon I figured why not
Thank you for being so respectful in your ask, I really appreciate it and I hope you like it. Hope you have a very blessed Ramadan and wishing everyone a lot of health and happiness during this time. Even to my non-muslim readers, I hope you all are doing well and you're all healthy <3333
also i know that there is a very slim chance of this happening because all of you are amazing but i will not tolerate any hate of any kind. if you
your first Ramadan after being married to Damian was certainly a new experience
before being married, you were just used to your parents handling everything for you
by the time you wake up for suhoor, the table would be set
by the time you'd be home from university, your mother would be waiting by the door with a date and a glass of water
so now that you were married and you had to handle everything on your own, it took a little bit of getting used to
luckily for you, Damian is a very hands on type of man
he's the kind of person who'd just drink a cup of water or a glass of milk, maybe a couple of dates or a fruit and he'd be ok for the remainder of the day
but god forbid you even think of doing the same thing
he'd just about have a heart attack
absolutely not
initially, he'd request Alfred to make meals for you so he could bring them home for the both of you to have suhoor together
just until the both of you got the hang of it
after that damian would either help you cook before patrol so there would be food ready for the both of you
or he'd swing by some restaurant that was open and grab some takeout for the both of you
he'd heat up the food and set the table and making sure everything was absolutely ready before finally waking you up
practically carrying your sleepyass to the table and handfeeding you so he can make sure you're eating properly
since he handles suhoor, you handle iftar and keep the table set so you can eat together
you could always just stay at the manor so you wouldn't have to worry about the meals, like bruce or dick have suggested so many times
but you prefer living alone with your husband
no offense to them at all
but it's just easier for you to maintain your modesty at your own home
anyways
your marriage gets really tested during Ramadan
the two of you are barely getting any sleep and it's difficult for you both to get used to
the only time that you both spend together and are completely present is when he should be patrolling
the lack of sleep makes you both kind of cranky
and it's difficult to not snap at each other
eventually you both get pretty tired and exhausted and just slip into routine
but of course it's nothing some sleep and some time spent together can't solve
and since you've been trying to reduce watching movies and listening to music during the holy month, you end up playing board games together or going for long drives together where you just talk and talk and talk
you thought you were extremely secure in your marriage
that was until you saw damian pout and give you the silent treatment after losing a game of gin rummy
then claiming you shouldn't be playing a game called 'jinn' in the first place
not swearing or talking shit during ramadan was especially hard for him
especially with tim and steph yelling 'fi ramadan?' at him everytime he makes even the slightest snide comment
you find it hilarious but i digress
whenever you go to the masjid for nightly prayers, damian and you will go and find a new ice cream place to try out late at night
you mention in passing how the women's side of the mosque is so bland compared to the men's and damian immediately looks into getting the mosque refurbished so that you and other women can enjoy it
damian's shoes get stolen once and the great detective actually couldn't find out who it was
you hear him complain about it constantly
CONSTANTLY
this time is when you both really lean into the adorable muslim couple aesthetic
matching prayer mats with each of your names embroidered on it
matching tasbih
and other things you get the picture
you both go all out for ramadan and decorate your home from top to bottom
since you both don't really celebrate many of the western holidays, he really wants to make this a memorable time for the both of you
and so do you
you hold an iftar party at your place many times with all your friends and family
it started out with you just inviting everyone but eventually it became a weekly potluck, which you really appreciated
bro damian is more excited about Eid than you are
he literally has to keep reminding you to get your dress ready for Eid al fitr
because he wants to get a jubbah in a matching color and surprise you
you know how you have those cute texts of girlies asking their bfs for their opinions on their nails?
the exact same thing
except with HENNA
you send him like 100 different pictures a week, planning which design you want to wear for Eid
he responds to all of them with utmost seriousness
obviously, he's an artist
he knows whats the difference between arabic and indian designs for henna
but secretly he's wondering why you're sending him so many when you only have 2 hands
but um hello he's never going to tell you that
because it's ramadan and obv ramadan related stuff is going to be appearing on everyones fyp he has to deal with both you and dick sending him videos of the scholars being funny (iykyk)
hey guys let's start ramadan w a bang
also has to deal with jason asking him CONSTANTLY how he's still able to walk around when all the demons are supposed to be locked up for the month
plus he has to now deal with you watching mukbangs and restaurant reviews and crying to him about how you're starving
why on earth did silent asmr mukbangs of wingstop get so popular only during ramadan?
believe me every single prayer damian makes during this month, he is thanking god for bringing you to him and praying for your health and your happiness
when you found out, you cried in his arms for a good solid 5 minutes
he also secretly kind of prayed for kids on laylat ul qadr but you didn't hear it from me
not only is this month really special for the both of you, you take it as an opportunity to give back
damian has wayne enterprises run soup kitchens for the entire month and they serve all people meals as well as suhoor and iftar
you both volunteer there personally
you donate money of course and damian will tell you that everytime he does it, he feels fulfilled in a way he never has before
you honestly feel so proud of the man you feel blessed to call your husband
also, like the perfect husband he is, he sends gifts and food to your parents
who quickly begin to regard him as better than your own siblings
much to his secret pleasure
uk i wish i could keep going
honestly ramadan is such a magical and rewarding time of the year
and you are so happy to spend it along with damian
P.S.
while damian completely understood the point of sacrificing a goat for Eid al adha
he still cried about it to you the night before out of guilt
you definitely donated the meat that came out of that
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vechter · 2 months
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teen titans and outsiders secret files and origins (2005)
feeling so insane about dick and what robin means to him, but also what tim means to him... that near blind faith. how much of it is coloured by his own devotion to bruce during those robin years? how much of it is tim- the closest thing he has to a brother- the one who saved bruce and by extension, saved him?
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erinwantstowrite · 1 month
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how does tim feel about de aged peter ?
that's his little lab assistant!!! his little man!!! tim is dick's biggest fan so by extension peter is a joy to be around!! he and peter may have the dynamic where peter purposefully tries to annoy him a lot, but they get along great and peter thinks he's cool/fun to learn from. once little peter gets used to dick not disappearing/dying on him, he ventures out more to the others and tim keeps trying to steal him from the rest
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theresamouseinmyhouse · 8 months
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tbh i do get a little bothered by the notion that tim took the first shot he had to drop out of school because he hated school and didnt wanna do it and all of that bc i feel like it ignores the probably very important context that he dropped out after his dad (as well as steph-or at least, he was led to believe, in the same week) died, also he was in a school shooting. He did attempt to go to a school in bludhaven but the kids there were so wildly insensitive about the shooting that tim dropped out under the pretense of his "uncle" homeschooling him. In his oyl era, he /did/ go back to school, and it provided him some form of normalcy. Tim was a normal kid, he wasnt crazy about school but he still went to school and it helped him feel like a normal kid, something he desperately clung to. He only dropped out again to do his Brucequest, in an era where he was notably Not Doing Well (which. Yeah. he wasnt doing well bc he was like 17 and almost everyone in his support system was dead, he recently had hits put out on him, got blown up, and backstabbed by his not-dead-ex, he couldnt support his theory that bruce was alive and was extremely stressed about that, and he didnt know wtf he was doing. I love him btw.) Basically tim dropping out of school was a signifier that he wasnt doing well and he was giving up on the normality that he tried to cling to and im a bit of a nitpicky person who gets irked by minor things
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It’s a running joke in the manor that Tim’s kid was like a cat
And he would never admit that he could kind of see it himself.
The climbing, the ability to go from zero to a hundred in energy, and unfortunate ability to be too cute to actually get mad at him for anything he does.
Finding said son running out and about when there was breakout was pushing through.
“Hi Dad!!”
“Danny! What are you doing out here?!it’s still lockdown chickadee!”
Danny looked down at the ground and scuffed one of his shoe against the pavement.
“I know… but you’ve been gone so long and I’ve been worried!”
Tim sighed and tapped his comm,
“Oracle, please keep lookout for the next couple minutes.”
And crouched down in front of his son,
“You haven’t been home in a while and I missed you..”
Tim sighed as he wiped a tear from Danny’s face.
It was almost unfortunate how much the kid took after him.
“Kiddo I’m sorry, that’s my fault, I know we haven’t been able to hang out for the past week-“
Danny stomped a foot in frustration,
“No you don’t understand! You forget to sleep when you don’t come home ‘n’ great grandpa Alffie said we got to sleep because it’s good for you ‘n’ that when you don’t you are more likely to get hurt! I don’t want you hurt!”
Tim wanted to argue, and say that he was fine. He’s been taking cat naps between searching and the fights. If it was anyone else in his family he would’ve done so.
But this was his son, his little chickadee who loves so much and worries about himself so little.
He needs to set an precedent before bad habits emerge.
Picking Danny up, Tim set him down onto his hip and stuck his chin on his head.
“You’re right, I guess I haven’t been being nice to myself like I’m supposed to. How about we go back home and I’ll lay down with you for a couple hours?”
Danny peered up with glassy eyes,
“Can you stay for breakfast?”
And didn’t that just hurt to hear? Faded memories of asking that same question only to be given this almost pitying look danced in the back his mind.
“Sorry kiddo, but we just don’t have enough time before our flight but don’t worry when we get back we’ll have a family day, just the three of us!”
Clearing his throat Tim met his son’s eyes.
“Sure champ, and when we finally get joker back in Arkham we can ask everyone to have a family day, how does that sound?”
Stars almost seemed to take over Danny’s eyes as he let out a little gasp.
“Really?!”
“I promise.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, many of Danny’s mannerisms were reminiscent of a cat, but this was new.
Tim pinched his eyebrow in exasperation as he looked at his siblings.
He wished he never got up this morning.
“And how exactly did Danny somehow get a crowbar?”
The kid in question just happily swung his legs as he sat on the bench unaware that he himself was going to be getting a far longer conversation as soon as they got back to the manor.
“To be honest.. in hindsight, not my brightest moment.”
“WHY IN GODS NAME A CROWBAR?!”
“He said he needed something to help take care of the trash! I thought he would use it like a knapsack or something!”
Jason Thew his hands in the air, and Dick let out a snort while he nudged the mess of a clown next to him.
“Well he very much did use it for something.”
“Nightwing! I’m just as mad at you for somehow loosing the kid this badly to begin with!! You. Are. Not. Helping.”
“I know but I’m just saying, he gets his dramaticism from you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the end of the day, Joker ended up paralyzed from the neck down.
Jason and Dick were both no longer allowed to babysit Danny alone.
And one little munchkin was, though very much grounded, hailed a hero by all of Gotham for the actions that were live-streamed by onlookers.
And once he was no longer grounded, he did get his family day.
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hurdy-girly · 2 months
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Bruce sat in front of the bat computer, pinching the bridge of his nose. A dead end.
Again.
He’d been on this case for weeks now. He’d found a hundred leads, and every one had led to less answers and more questions. He could probably make a sweater with all the grey hairs he’d been getting, and his hairdresser could probably buy a bike off of the dye costs alone.
He was the greatest detective in the world. And yet he had no clue who this guy was.
He really only had his instincts to thank for him noticing Tim approaching. If it weren’t for his frankly absurd levels of over preparation over the years he would have jumped out of his seat when the boy leaned over him to squint at the screen.
“Hey B.”
Tim sat down next to him. His body language was relaxed and casual, but Bruce didn’t miss the glint of concern in his eyes.
“Hey Tim.”
Bruce opened a new folder. All of them were starting to look the same.
“…this case is giving you a lot of trouble, huh?” Tim looked at the screen, glancing over the text. Bruce had missed so many dinners that he was pretty sure Alfred was going to drug him to drag him to the one tonight. He wasn’t surprised his children had picked up on it, too. “Do you need a second opinion?”
Bruce bristled a bit before meeting Tim’s eye. But Tim was just concerned. Not judgmental.
Bruce wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to his kids being that gracious with him. Or with anyone being like that.
“…it may be helpful.” Tim seemed surprised at Bruce’s admission. “Especially because all of this happened while I was… gone.”
“Oh.” Tim grew silent. The two had discussed the events and effects of Bruce’s disappearance into the time stream before, but it was still a tough topic between them. Between everyone. “…so. What’s the deal?”
Bruce sighed, pulling up his original files. “While I was gone, this person appeared. His case would be unalarming, but… this guy was everywhere. Tens of countries, none of them legally, all within the span of a few months. He ended up on several government wanted lists. He seemed to be everywhere. So many organizations locked onto him, but he just… kept getting away. No one could track him down, and… I’m starting to think I can’t either.”
Tim frowned, scooting closer to the screen. “And we didn’t look into this guy sooner?”
Bruce shook his head. “He seemed to slip through the cracks. But this guy… he got places no one should have been. My current working theory is that he’s a meta, or some sort of magical entity. I’m considering sending John some of this to get his opinion.”
Tim blinked. “That bad, huh? What’s this guy’s name?”
Bruce sighed. “I’m not sure. There were a couple I found, and I’m not sure if any of them are even the true name. There was one that got noted down a bit more often than the rest.”
Bruce pulled up his first document.
“Alvin Draper.”
Tim fell very quiet.
Bruce looked over at him. A bit of worry hit him. Had Tim met this guy before? Why hadn’t he said anything? Was everything alright?
Who was this guy?
“Okay, B? I’m gonna hold your hand while I say this.”
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Still thinking about last night
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”No, no, but seriously,” you start, adjusting on your seat, “it wasn’t that bad. At least not by the end. I felt like we had-“ a connection, that you managed to see him as he was for at least the brittlest of moments. But the sentence dies at the tip of your tongue. You prefer to keep that to yourself. pairing: tim drake x reader tags: stalking, average tim behavior, college student reader word count: 1.7k
“Do you look up all your girlfriends?”
Tim doesn’t like the insinuation, but he shoulders on because Barbara’s network is far more extensive than his, far more even than the Batcave’s, and this is a favour, after all.
Your face is on full display, a shot from your ID, taking up the main screen on Oracle’s setup. You don’t look very happy.
Your hair is longer than when he met you the other night, and he sees the fading of some sort of dye on the tips of your hair. 20 years old, born and raised in Gotham, there is nothing outstanding about you.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he replies as an afterthought, his eyes on the screens. You enrolled in GU last year, took up journalism as a major. Why would a college student live in a warehouse? 
Because it has to be a warehouse, why else would it have been called like that in the files?
The incident that led him to your apartment is still something that embarrasses him. A mistake on his part, something that shouldn’t have happened.
He keeps going over the details, trying to understand; it was just the criminal of the week, a robbery gone wrong at a jewelry shop, hostages that shouldn’t have been there. He had been sneaky, gotten inside before anyone noticed, and released the hostages in record time (which was good, because when they started shooting, Tim was the only one inside). But one of the rogues got on the defensive when they saw he was one of the bats, had gotten a hit on Tim’s ear, and broken his comms. Then a shot in the darkness and a sharp pain took over his senses.
Which one was the lesser evil, running away to seek shelter while he was still lucid? Or detaining the rogues but risking further injury?
The final matter came down to “what would Bruce do?”
So Tim had pushed through, managed to knock them out, cuffed them somewhere the police would find them, and left before anyone else could see him.
The sky was raging, as expected of Gotham, when he stepped foot on the rooftops outside. His breathing was ragged, the pain was excruciating and he had left the Red Bird at the cave.
It only crashed down on Tim as the thunder and lightning erupted around him, shivering and in pain. Once the adrenaline left, it hit all at once-
He was alone.
It only took a second for the gears to kick in. He couldn’t access the Batcomputer, or call anyone who could help. He could take care of it without them, but where would he go? Leslie’s clinic was on the other side of the city, and after retiring it had fallen under new management, would whoever was i charge still treat vigilantes? There were no warehouses around the area either, not ones he remembered anyway, and the longer he thought, the more he started to fear bleeding out in the streets.
What other things did he have access to offline? His suit had prior saves of data, backup files from years prior. Tim accessed them with shaky hands. 
As he thought, not many places to go to in the area, but there was somewhere marked as a safe place. Somewhere that wasn’t Bruce’s but that was listed as Bat equipped. He headed there with desperation clawing at his throat, pain drilling at the back of his eyelids.
But he didn’t find what he was expecting. Instead, there was you and a mundane house. Somewhere that looked lived in, rather than a closet stuffed with expensive tech and medical equipment.
He realized too late, that the information was outdated, that he was going to die from a mistake.
Except he didn’t. Except you were there.
And he wants to figure it out, what kind of sane person could possibly do what you had done? He wants to figure you out.
“She isn’t shady,” Barbara supplies unhelpfully. She starts looking over your school records, your extracurriculars, you studied at the same school he did, nothing out of the ordinary; A book club, perfectly good grades, no problems with teachers or classmates. There’s an internship registered under your name at one of Gotham’s local newspapers, and there, a few articles on topics like battok trends or the latest celebrity scandal. The few lines he skims read uninspired.
The only thing Tim finds unusual is paperwork from the year before, for a cat you had adopted.
“I didn’t see any pets.” At least not when he was there. His allergies would have started making him sneeze like a madman otherwise. But what could he possibly get from that?
You’re perfectly ordinary, so ordinary Tim can’t possibly figure out why you’d be living full-time in a Batman safehouse.
And it’s driving him crazy.
Barbara hums, saying your name, and then, she says your second surname, your mother’s maiden name, “Thompkins?”
“Thought it was common,” Tim shrugs because he hadn’t taken notice of the detail during his first research. Barbara sends him a pointed look.
“Who was the safehouse registered under?” It’s a simple question, Tim realizes his slip-up on the next beat.
“Is she related to Leslie Thompkins?” 
“Grandniece looks more like,” Barbara supplies, pulling up your mother’s birth certificate. She digs up an old picture, a younger Leslie posing next to a smiling blonde woman, who holding up a med school diploma. Seems like your mother followed in her footsteps.
“The warehouse is registered under her name,” Barbara supplies, pulling up a scan of the apartment’s deed. Leslie Thompkins is clearly written as the owner. It must have been a safehouse for her, and subsequently for Batman, a long time ago. All before you took over. “You satisfied now?”
Tim says nothing at that, gnawing at his lip.
From the screen, your picture stares back.
“It was freaking scary.” You complain over your instant noodles. But they’re too hot and they scald, making you hiss. Your friend stares at you from across the table.
”Right.”
None of your high school peers stuck with you after graduation, so your list of friends remains painfully empty. And it would be a name shorter, had Claudia not appeared into your life.
You met during your internship, where she was interning too, at the literature department of the magazine. You’re both close in age and enjoy reading classics, so you spend lunch breaks together and bond over trash-talking your coworkers. She’s one of the few people you talk to in an otherwise silent existence. And she’s quite funny, too.
”It feels like one of those trashy romance novels, right?” She gestures openly, a sandwich in her hand. You’ve been telling her about your encounter with Red Robin for a lack of anything else. It’s the only interesting thing that’s happened to you in a while. “‘The superhero crashed at my place! And oh no, he’s naked!’.”
You snort, slapping her arm, “he was not naked! And it wasn’t romantic at all! I was so scared I’d throw up all over him from the stress!”
She chokes on a piece of ham, then starts to laugh. You start laughing too. 
It’s a relief having Claudia to make it all sound less scary.
Her laughing stops when her phone beeps and she pulls it out. Meanwhile, you choose to entertain yourself with your food.
”Is it that twitter account?” You ask half curiously. She hums in response, not looking up from the screen.
”Seems like bird boy hasn’t been seen in a while,” Claudia scrolls down her feed as she talks, quickly liking posts or replying to comments. She runs a popular fan account in her spare time that revolves around Gotham vigilantes, which is not a niche topic.  Most of the accounts themed around the bats, much like Claudia herself, are not native to Gotham. Rather, they’re from Metropolis or San Francisco, where the public regularly sees Superman or the Titans. Gothamites don’t have that kind of relationship with their heroes. “Red Robin’s been out of the streets since last Friday.”
”I guess that means you’re not lying,” she says teasing, which makes you blow a raspberry, “how did you do it, though? I would have messed up so bad.”
”Eh,” you start halfheartedly, “I took pre-med classes all through high school. I’ve forgotten most of it, though, but what little I knew came in handy,” you shrug, leaning back against your chair, “he had some pretty useful stuff, too. Super fancy equipment. That definitely helped.”
“Anyone else would have tried seeing under his mask, and you’re telling me what stuck out to you was his equipment?” Claudia laughs. “Maybe your next article will be about the bats’ tools. Does Batman carry around bat-bandaids? What about bat-snacks?”
You choke on your food, pushing down a laugh. It would be better than the stuff you’ve been writing about for these past few months, anyway. There are only so many influencers you can interview without going crazy.
”No, no, but seriously,” you start,  adjusting on your seat, “it wasn’t that bad. At least not by the end. I felt like we had-“ a connection, that you managed to see him as he was for at least the brittlest of moments. But the sentence dies at the tip of your tongue. You prefer to keep that to yourself.
“He was your favorite, you said, no?” Claudia catches on and continues, “I’d be just like you if Nightwing crashed into my apartment too.”
You’re about to retaliate, because-
Because what happened was not without meaning. You had realized he was more than an ephemeral figure or a distant idol, something as tangible as you, and that had made you stop fearing, for better or for worse.
But your boss peeks his head around the corner and takes sight of you both. “Your break is over,” he says and stands in the doorway as he watches you tidy up and throw empty containers and coffee cups into the bin.
Just as you’re leaving you catch something by the corner of your eye. On the TV is a fuzzy image of something humanoid, vaguely red and black. 
Wherever you go, the shadow of Red Robin follows.
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newobsessionweekly · 6 months
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You will always be my Boot
Main masterlist | The rookie masterlist
Tim Bradford x FBI!FormerRookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie
Summary: You are a former FBI agent and come back to your roots after many years. Little did you know Tim waited for you all these years.
A/N: This is my first Tim Bradford one ever and I know I need some improvement in this police area. I'm thinking about making a part two of this. Anyways, let me know what you think. Have a wonderful day, bubs! Lots of love.
Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k Requests for Tim Bradford are open! GIF not mine, credits to the owner.
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The flight was exhausting and the shitty bed from that cheap motel was even worse. They'd think an FBI agent would afford a five star hotel and a warm meal, instead of that reheated noodles you had last night, but LA is expensive as shit. One thing you didn't miss about this city were those self-centred Hollywood "stars" and the exorbitant prices.
You watched the time over and over again, shaking your foot nervously. You are ready to go, but you just can't gather the courage to face those police officers again. The bathroom light is dim and you put the blame on that for your horrendous bun, not because you lost practice. You redo the bun one more time and watch yourself in the mirror. LAPD uniform hugs your curves so perfectly and the overloaded belt accentuates your waist. You allow yourself to wear a small smile today, for the sake of old times.
The tranquility of the morning was shattered by the unmistakable sound of gunshots ringing out in the distance. Instantly alert, with your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins, you grabbed your service weapon and badge, slipping them into your waistband as you hurried out the door and into the cool morning air.
As you made your way down the narrow staircase of the motel, the sounds of the gunshots grew louder, sending a chill down your spine. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you quickly assessed the situation—a group of armed men engaged in a shootout with one another only a few blocks away. Confusion made its way to your mind; why would some people from the same gang fire at each other?
As you analyse their tattoos, some have it on their neck, some on their wrist, it snapped. You recognise those tattoos from your FBI files that lay on your motel bed, two different markings, two different gangs. Dangerous ones, wanted ones.
Without a second thought, you sprang into action, ducking behind parked cars and storefronts, you closed in on the scene, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to confront them. There's no time to wait for backup. And who'd you call anyway?
With a burst of adrenaline, you emerged from cover and sprinted towards the gunmen, your weapon drawn and ready. The element of surprise worked in your favor as you caught them off guard, their attention momentarily diverted as they turned to face you.
"Drop your weapons! FBI!" you shouted, your voice ringing out clear and commanding above the chaos of the shootout.
For a moment, there was hesitation in their eyes, uncertainty flickering across their faces as they weighed their options. But then, with a defiant snarl, they raised their guns once more, their fingers tightening on the triggers.
Time seemed to slow as the standoff unfolded, each moment stretched to its breaking point as you and the felons locked eyes, the tension thick in the air. And then, with a burst of gunfire, the situation erupted into chaos once more.
Bullets flew past you in a deadly dance as you returned fire, each shot ringing out like a thunderclap in the stillness of the morning. You managed to hit two of them, one in the shoulder, that dropped the gun and grabbed their wound in shock and the other one in the thigh, forcing them to fall into the ground. You didn't had enough handcuffs to secure them all, so it was your priority to stop them from running away until the officers arrived.
It's crazy to see how four rival gang members united to get rid of you when seconds before were about to blow their heads off.
"I said, drop your weapons, now!" you demanded to the masked one still standing, gunshots finally stopping. You didn't see any response or will to do so and that made you place aim for their legs as well, forcing them to collapse. "Hands behind your back, intertwine your fingers."
Before handcuffing them, you pulled up your phone and searched for that one number.
"Sergeant Grey" the voice on the other side responded.
"Agent Y/L/N, FBI. I have in custody two of Crenshaw and two of Tongan. I need backup and R/A. Crenshaw bulevard with W 66th Street." you informed Sergeant Grey.
"Copy that."
Not long after you made the call, three cars and an ambulance pulled up to the address you gave. The look on the officers faces when they saw you holding one handcuffed suspect and three injured on the street, was as satisfying as catching those. Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.
"Y/L/N, FBI." you presented yourself to the officers, you showed your badge and shake their hands, each wearing a mortified expression after they heard your name. "After they're checked, let's get going. I'm late for my first day." you demanded and the six officers nodded as an understanding.
You could tell by the look on their faces, some of them are rookies. You can't forget those eyes, you had the exact same expression when you were a rookie and as Tim as your T.O. didn't help much.
"Agent Y/L/N." a serious tone came from just as a serious man. Sergeant Grey standing tall and imposing in the booking room as you walked the men to one of the benches and let another officer take care of him. As you approached the man, a big and friendly smile appeared on his face "It's so good to have you back."
"Good to be back, sir." you accepted his handshake with that small smile from the morning that you promised yourself you'd be wearing all day.
Your name was on everyone's lips as you walked through the station besides Grey.
It had been years since you last walked these familiar corridors, but as you made your way toward the meeting room, a sense of nostalgia washed over you.
"Is that Y/N?" one officer whispered to another, having the impression you didn't hear them.
"Yeah. Still hot. Heard she's working with FBI now." that remark made you turn your head in their direction, locking your eyes with one of them as he swallowed the lump in his throat and returning to his seat.
Inside, the meeting room was filled with the buzz of conversation as officers gathered for the morning briefing. All eyes turned to you as you entered, whispers and murmurs following in your wake. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny, their curiosity palpable in the air as they watched the former FBI agent return to their ranks.
"Good morning everyone. Sorry I'm late, had to take care of something so early this morning because someone doesn't sleep." he glanced at you and the murmur stopped when the eyes landed on you standing in the doorframe. "Take a sit." you nodded and sat down in the first row.
"Is that Y/N?" Lucy whispered to Nolan and Jackson. It was impossible to shake the feeling of being under a microscope, every move you made scrutinized by your colleagues.
"Hell, yeah, she is!" Jackson laid his eyes on you and gave you an appreciation smile.
As the sergeant launched into the details of the day's assignments and priorities, you found it difficult to concentrate, the weight of everyone's eyes on you making it hard to focus. But you pushed through, determined to prove yourself in your new role as a police officer.
"Today we made serious progress towards the gangs that won't let Los Angeles sleep in peace. Agent Y/L/N, first thing in the morning had in custody four men, almost as important as the gang leaders." your mind zoned out, you already knew that story. But what you didn't know and what's really eating you inside is that specific blond man.
In the corner of the room, Talia and Angela exchanged knowing glances, their whispers barely audible over the sergeant's voice.
"Can you believe she's back?" Angela muttered.
"I heard she was with the FBI," Talia replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Wonder what brought her back here."
"From an FBI agent to an officer? Seems like a joke to me..." Lopez paused as she looked at Tim for a moment. "Maybe something bad happened. Maybe she did something bad." the excitement of her voice was unquestionable.
Meanwhile, Tim Bradford watched from his seat at the front of the room, his expression unreadable as he observed the scene unfolding before him. Memories of your time together as rookie and training officer flashed through his mind, the bond you had shared still lingering despite the years apart.
"I heard she was the best rookie this station ever had. And it was his rookie, can you believe that!" Angela's mind was focused on one subject and one only. She is more than convinced that something has happened between you and Tim.
"Almost 100 on every exam and she was the only person this grumpy smiled to!" Talia added, making Tim shift uncomfortable in his seat, his eyes not letting the sight of you even for a second.
"That's not true. And I'm not grumpy, I do smile..." Tim responded to their feminine gossip, something he's not doing too often. He still thinks it's a waste of time this kind of conversation and one's personal life is no one's business, but maybe, maybe he wants to know more about you. "Sometimes"
He was wondering as well what could've possibly had happened to make you come back to LA, knowing very well how much you hated the city and how much you suffered the moment you stepped on that plane.
Tim's heart was below the sea's surface, buried inside the burning hell somewhere since the moment he caught a glimpse of your siluete walking around these hallways again. His hands were sweating and the lump in his throat could swallow him.
But you were nowhere far away from that feeling either. All the feelings from back then were coming alive faster than the light-speed and the memories of the time you were his rookie, the looks, the touches, the sweetness of his words alongside the glances from your colleagues made your eyes fill with bittersweet tears. You had to raise your head a little and blink as fast as you could to make those tears disappear and take a few deep breaths to calm down. You have to put this feelings aside. Now.
As the meeting drew to a close, Sergeant Gray turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment before moving on to the next item on the agenda.
"You're dismissed and be safe out there!" Gray closed the meeting and everyone rushed to start the day.
You waited for everyone to clear the room, mostly because you hate crowded places and people jostling around. You kept your head low, already full of everyone staring. When the room cleared just enough, you wanted to make your way to Sergeant Gray's office when a big, warm hand landed on your shoulder, freezing you on spot.
Some time ago, you knew by heart every single trace and curve of that hand, and now your mind doesn't disappoint you remembering it all with just a blink. His breath winding down your spine as minty as always.
You hated him. You hated yourself. Damn, you hate everyone and everything this moment.
"Y/N." his voice was as overwhelming as always and it made your feet weak. It made you weak and it hit you hard right into your bones. You didn't think twice and as you raised your chin up high and faked a confident expression, you turned to your heels to face him. Once and for all. "I can't believe you're back."
"Tim" you nodded, greeting him with a smile. This time a genuine one, wider and more powerful than the one you had forced yourself to wear all day. Not a forced one, but one that you found you couldn't hide. "It's been a while." you cleared your throat and searched his eyes.
They were staring right into your soul with the same spark and love you've missed so much. It seems like you've never changed, seems like everything is just the way it was. Like he was your TO, teaching you, teasing you, caring for you, having your back and you were his rookie, learning from him, turning into the best version of him, making him proud.
The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as you struggled to find the right words to say. The spark that had once ignited between you still burned bright, despite the years and distance that had separated you.
"How are you? How's Isabel?"
"Uh-Yeah..." he paused for a moment, the light in his eyes fading. "We separated a few months ago."
Tim wished this words would hurt more admitting them in front of you, would hurt just as much as he hurt you. But it didn't. That wound is almost healed, making room for another one to open.
"Oh, Tim. I'm so sorry" you were sincere, though not with all your heart. You knew it must've hurt like hell having in mind how much Tim loved his wife. But at some point he loved you too. Maybe not as much as her, maybe more, maybe less.
"But I'm fine, yeah. It's past now." he cracked a smile, resting his arm on the table as close to your thigh as you could feel its warmth. "What about you? Making an entrance for sure. Catching those guys from Crenshaw and Tongan, impressive. I taught you well." oh, he knows what he's doing and watching your shield breaking before his eyes, he's delighted.
"Oh, don't be so cocky—"
"Why are you here? Why now?" he asked. You rested your hand on your belt and raised an eyebrow as a response to his questions.
"You know I can't tell you." he sighed at your words, realising just now maybe the things are not how they were. You are not as open to him or talkative as before. You are not in love with him as you were before. But he's not done trying yet.
"Dinner tonight?" Tim was bold for sure and his question took you by surprise. You weighed the answer, but before you could say yes, he continued "I can't lose the chance again. I can't lose you again, Boot."
"Okay, yes!" you pushed your finger into his chest "Stop making those puppy eyes, you know I can't resist." he laughed and before you can walk away, he grabbed your waist and kissed your forehead gently. His lips lingering on your skin few more seconds, memorising your sweet scent, trying to remember it, like if he could ever forget.
"It's good to have you back, Boot!"
"Stop calling me 'Boot'!" you fought back, annoyed, but he enjoyed every moment. He missed you like hell and now all of this is hitting him hard in the face like a... boot. "I'm not your Boot" you persisted.
"Oh, you'll always be my Boot!"
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ditzybat · 29 days
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I know we get a lot of Catlad!Jason or Stray!Tim au’s, but just this once can we get a Stray!Bernard au? A Bernard who was caught trying to steal something big in a spiteful teenage phase of rebellion and getting caught by Catwoman of all people, who immediately snatches him and makes him her apprentice- because if the bat can have protégés so can she. And a just freshly made Robin Tim having to chase around that annoying cat who happens to be his civilian best friend (not that either of them realize it) And just - Bernard is just a silly cat having his bat chase him around rooftops in an excruciating slow burn romance that takes both miscommunication and civilian life drama to make it to endgame.
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ghost-bxrd · 10 months
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Stony silence rings from the other end of the line, but Jason knows Bruce is listening. Listening and running through several possibilities of how someone could have gotten this number while simultaneously tracking the call signal.
This is gonna be fucking gold.
Time to sell it.
“Dad,” he sobs, pitching his voice until it breaks, teeth chattering exaggeratedly, “Dad, please, I’m scared, I-“ Jason cuts himself off with a scream and another series of sobs, “Please, I can’t— it’s locked! Please, no, Dad, it’s locked—“
A sharp intake of breath, the dull thump of something heavy colliding unexpectedly.
“Dad!” Jason cries, calling upon every single drama class he’s ever had, “Please… please- it’s almost to zero- please, I’m sorry, please, please, it hurts so much-“
Bruce breaks.
“Jason, Jason, hold on Jaylad, hold on, I will find-“
Jason smashes the phone against the marble dress of the creepy angel standing guard over his grave. The pieces vanish into the wet grass, like an occult offering eaten by Gotham’s soil.
Then Jason turns and walks away with a gleeful little smile.
But not without flipping the stupid angel off one last time.
— Grave Pretender sneak peek
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jesuis-assez · 22 days
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Tim celebrating Lucy's efforts over her parents refusing to celebrate her achievements
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tastycitrus · 1 year
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there's an alternate timeline where the new 52 reboot kept all three batgirls but retconned all the robins except for dick, who went back to being robin with nightwing banned from being mentioned at all
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