Mello, Breaking And Entering: Tell Me What I Want To Hear, Matty

i need Dr. House to be Batman's temporary doctor for a month while Dr. Leslie Tompkins is recovering from some sort of rogue activity.

Eddie, stuck on a song for months

Steve, walks up humming the song Eddie’s been working on and just continuing with a few new bars unconsciously

Eddie, jumping up to grab his guitar to go see the guys "You're a brilliant man and I want your brain on my shelf." Kisses his head and runs away

Steve, bamboozled, newly bi and in love. "Oh."

BEAST BOYY!

he's the type to have his whole notes app dedicated to cheesy pick-up lines and bad puns

whatever dude. dream daddies your jayvik

wally and dick doodle bc I love them and experimenting with outfits

Crounch crounch Jayce’s biceps

Food for Thought - JayTim - Batman

Jason just finished making pasta, a meal full of carbs and protein, with only enough sauce to make all the ingredients stick together, just the way Tim liked it. He wouldn’t eat it otherwise. He added some extra sauce to his bowl and left the kitchen.

“Any progress?” Jason asked, sitting next to Tim on the couch, mouth full of pasta and fork dripping with his properly sauced food.

Tim’s eyes flickered over, before almost immediately returning to the computer

Hook.

“The budget is almost illegible. It’s definitely on purpose but I don’t have proof of which shareholder is responsible for it.”

Tim has been chasing a shareholder through botched paperwork for a few weeks. It was a string of issues that they were not used to. Most situations they came up against could be dealt with through well-placed violence, but this was a game of cat and mouse. Which if it were an actual game, Tim might have enjoyed. But as it stands, he has a shareholder stealing money from the company and botching projects for insurance scams. The difficulty Tim was running into, the reason the investigation has been going on so long, has been because corporate scum bags fight in paper work and contracts. So, Tim has had to dig his way through red tape, new and old contracts, current budget meeting and previous budget meetings, all to match up numbers that claim to have been lost in the shuffle.

There have been a few of his ‘board of old men’, Tim’s words, that he had cleared. Each cleared shareholder lightened the load, but sniffing out one specific pompous asshole at Wayne Enterprises was taking its time; and a toll on Tim. He hasn’t been able to take time to patrol as Red Robin, and his team have had to manage a few cases without him at the helm because of the near quadrupled amount of paperwork he’s had his nose in lately. It was making him antsy, his mind had been busy, but Jason could feel Tim’s body aching to move. The way he shifted constantly lately, or got up just to walk around, the lessened patrols were definitely getting to him. When he had been able to go out, he wasn’t even working on investigations, and had taken to the role of simply beating assholes senseless.

But Tim wouldn’t let anyone help. His pride wouldn’t let him.

“So, no progress?” Jason said through another mouth full of sloppy, wet pasta.

“Not in this specific file yet,” Tim sighed, “but I was able to eliminate one more suspect today.”

Tim began chewing on his thumb nail, eyes still glued to his computer screen.

“Well,” Jason grunted as he stood up, “you have like, three extra jobs at WE now, so no one can blame you for it taking time.”

“I blame me,” Tim grumbled, “I have to wait for every new edition of every new contract and every new budget, and then having studied those, I have to wait for the board meeting, which I then spend most of that time trying to catch someone slipping, but these guys lie, cheat, and steal through their whole lives. It just feels like the progress is so slow its non-existent.” Tim pulled the laptop into his lap, slouched against the couch and scrolled through another page of gibberish on his computer that seemed to make sense to him.

“Of course it does. You’re climbing a wall of old man greed with bricks made out of million-dollar budgets and legal jargon.” Jason spoke up louder, so his voice could be heard from the kitchen.

He made his way back to the living room, taking a bite of pasta with not enough sauce, before sitting back down and staring intensely at the computer. Tim looked over at him as he entered.

Line.

“Wait.” Jason said, grabbing the computer off Tim’s lap, and putting the pasta where the laptop had been.

“What?” Tim said, leaning in. Jason held up his hand to pause Tim, and scanned the document on the computer.

“Nothing.” Jason said, looking over at Tim, then at the bowl, and back at Tim with a smile.

It was boring, and Jason had to reread every line twice for any of them to make sense. Beside him, Tim took a bite of too dry pasta.

Sinker.

Tim looked down at the bowl of pasta, made with just enough sauce for everything to stick together and extra parmesan cheese, just the way he liked it.

Tim’s glare meant nothing, as it was followed by an eye roll and a small smile. Jason closed the laptop, and Tim moved closer, another forkful of pasta in his mouth, once again reminded that, yes, he did need to eat.

jason: oh, you're gonna kill me? REALLY?

jason: i’ve died so many times, my gravestone says BRB instead of RIP

Made this for my tik tok, but I thought I’d drop it here along with some of my fav frames from it.

"I didn't know!" - JayTim - Batman

"Hey," Jason spoke, "there's this new cafe that just opened up. On the corner of Smithe and Verance." He leaned against the heavy lining of the BatComputer, being entirely unhelpful.

Tim gave a noise of acknowledgement, busy logging information on recent arrivals of man power to the city. He's hoping there isn't a turf war about to start, and he'd be damned if he let it. Turf wars were notoriously bloody, the civilian casualties rose immensely, not to mention the culling of blood in the gangs. Insurrection within the gangs of Gotham followed immediately after, or even during, coups and mutinies were almost a guarantee. Everything in Gotham changed with a turf war.

It gummed up the morgue, the police station, and all the Bat's duties. It left other files open and investigations stalled. 

"Would you..." Jason paused, "We could meet for a coffee when you're free next."

"Ya,” Tim snorted, a small smile on his face “when I'm not running a company, running a super team, or running for my life."

Tim could feel Jason staring at him, but when he turned away from the monitor, Jason was already walking away, footsteps silent.

Weird.

Coffee, while a life fuel, was usually more utilitarian than an actual outing. Not that Tim got time for a lot of outings that didn’t arise from his duties. Maybe it would be nice to grab a coffee and sit down with Jay for a bit. Later though, he had to finish the logs.

Tim finally made his way to the comfort of his bed in the manor after hours of cross checking and flagging passports and IDs. He really tried to stay at the Nest as often as he could, but late nights made early morning bed times, and the convenience of the king bed and Egyptian cotton sheets above the bat cave was hard to pass up, especially when limbs were sore and heavy from prolonged usage.

Freshly showered, wearing a worn-out sweater, and sweatpants that weren't originally his, but he had laid claim to, Tim flopped down on his bed, pulling the large duvet over his head and mentally thanking Bruce for the black out curtains.

Trying to get to sleep was always hard, caffeine flowing through him and antsy energy to finish a case made him restless. Even after days and nights of office work and crime fighting, sometimes he still found himself running through his day while he hoped his body would fall victim to sleep. He would think over and rethink every Wayne Enterprise interaction, every client offer, all his decisions while on patrol, and if any of them were right.

Even his conversations with the Bats, was he too snippy with Dick? Did Batman agree with his analysis? What was Jay talking about?

‘When you’re free next’. Free from what? Like, when he’s not busy ? Did Jay need him for a mission? What if the coffee shop was a front? Surely Jason would have led with that. He wouldn’t want Tim to walk in there blind and he hadn’t specified if it was for recon. Maybe Tim should go check it out, if Jay had doubts about it, it would be nice to know if they were founded.

‘When you’re free next’

It didn’t sound urgent. If it was a mission, or time sensitive, surely Jason would have pushed. Or gone himself. How dangerous could a new small coffee shop be that Jay needed back up? Was it a front for something and Jay wanted to make sure no one encroached on his territory? No, Smithe and Verance were closer to the Diamond District, still outside the high class area, not too far from The Nest, but far out from Hood territory.

‘We could meet for a coffee when you’re free next.’

Tim mulled it over in his head, running every possibility, but no conclusion he came to felt right. Maybe he would just have to talk to Jason when he woke up, ask him all the questions he had.

As Tim was slipping gently into unconsciousness, a fleeting thought passed by, not a conscious thought, but one that just popped in, unbidden.

‘Sounds like how you’d ask someone on a date’

Tim’s eyes shot open.

It was the most plausible conclusion he could come to, and now that he thought it, it wasn’t going away. Tim sat up, grabbed for his phone, yanking the charger out, and called Jason before he could think of what he was doing.

Every ring felt like it lasted twice as long as it should have. Tim had gone to sleep before sun up, which meant more than likely Jason was still on patrol.

Did that mean he would take less time to pick up? Or more time? If he was in the middle of a fight, he probably wouldn’t answer. His private line should be routed to his communicator, forwarding calls to him while on patrol - phones never really lasted if they were brought on patrol – which means Jason should at least hear the ringing.

While Jason and the family were moving towards something akin to colleagues, Jason only answered the Bats when he knew he had a minute to spare; and a private call would not be seen as an emergency, if it were an emergency, they would contact him directly through his com.  Tim thought about moving to a com line to make Jason answer, but the com lines were as private as anything else when it came to the Bats. Which is to say not at all.

Just as Tim’s mind started to run faster, the click of a line opening drew his mind out of the potential spiral.

“What’s up, Babybird?” Jason’s voice sounding tinny through the phone line, his tone laden with lies.

 “I didn’t know!” Tim nearly shouted into the phone before he could think. He was met with a heavy silence.

“Are you in danger?” Jason’s voice got quieter and lower.

“What? No. I’m talking about earlier! The date! I didn’t realize what you were asking and I was so distracted and I hadn’t slept in far too long and I didn’t know!” By the end of his  frantic speech Tim’s voice had ended up whinier than he would ever have liked it to.

He was met with another bought of silence.

“Okay.” Jason replied

It was Tim’s turn to take a moment of silence, mourning his pride. “Okay.” Tim took a small breath, speaking softly, “I want to.”

“Okay.” A resolute sound, followed by silence.

“Okay?” Tim prompted, hoping for a small expansion of the idea.

“We can talk about it tomorrow. In person.” The tin of the Jason’s voice from the phone suddenly became far more evident, an echo chamber of lost privacy.

“Okay.”  Tim repeated, closed his eyes and flopped his head down on the pillow, wishing he could figure out anything more to say.

“Get some sleep, BabyBird.” Jason’s voice was soft, tinged with the sound of a small smile. Tim could see it in his head. It made him want to slap Jason.

The phone clicked off. The room sounded far too quiet now.

Tim opened his eyes, his hand holding his phone dropped to his side, bouncing slightly on the impeccably made bed. Where did the exhaustion of the day go?