and freckled tim is a

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HUNTING IN HACKNEY - model: Adwoa Aboah - photographer: Tim Walker - fashion Editor: Jacob K - hair: Cyndia Harvey - makeup: Sam Bryant - Vogue Italia December 2015

  • featured designers: Philipp Plein - Miu Miu - Emporio Armani - Hopman Design - Dsquared2 - Prada - Michael Kors Collection  - Vestments - Gucci - Missoni - Wales Bonner - Rag & Bone - Craig Green - Acne Studios
Touch | Tim Drake x

Description: It isn’t uncommon for Tim Drake to forget dates with everything he has going on in his life. It also isn’t uncommon for him to apologise in uncommon ways.

Request: Could I request a Tim Drake x Reader, with the quote “Can I touch you?”

Words: 1719

Notes: I remember seeing this in my inbox before the first blog was deleted, and I really liked the prompt for some reason??? And I’m in a very Tim mood right now so this blog is going to be 70% Red Robin lol. Anyway, my mystery friend and I worked together to create this smutty and sinful masterpiece, so here’s some Tim oral for you, suckers.

Warning: SMUT. 

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Taglist: @followeroonieclassic @puggleprincess @instantangelstudent @robincoalition


You find Tim in Bruce’s office, deep in thought as he sits at the bay window behind Bruce’s desk. His fingers tap a meaningless rhythm against his thigh that tries to match the pattering of rain against the cold glass. His eyes are an ocean of thought; considering ideas like the water graces the shore, then rejecting them as the wave retracts. Each concept is more frustrating than the last. Tim taps his lip with his other hand, mindlessly slipping his thumb into his mouth, then biting down with furrowed eyebrows and grinding teeth.

You pull the sweatshirt over your tank top, releasing a thankful sigh in response to the warmth Tim’s clothing gives you. After being outside and waiting for nearly an hour and a half in the rain, you return home from a forgotten date to a forgetful Tim, slip on his clothes and begin to traverse the maze that he now calls home. The warmth the garb has constellates deeply in the pit of your stomach. The feeling is ruined by something sour and painful that makes you feel bloated, uncomfortably sick with emotion and despondency.

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I Have Questions

“You’re… you’re gay,” Tim blinked up at the men kissing in front of him. One of Midnighter’s dark gloves was hidden in the length of blonde hair that seemed to surround Apollo like a sun’s halo. Two white gloves stood out like stars against the black of Midnighter’s clothing. Everything about the movement screamed of habit, familiarity, love. The way their heads tilted before their lips even touched, hands reaching without fumbling to find a home.

After a second, they parted and turned, arms still around each other. Apollo arched one light brow, lips pressing together into a faint smile. His high cheekbones were dusted with freckles and Tim couldn’t stop staring until his partner moved. Midnighter grinned, feral and pointed, he hadn’t really known what a hostile grin looked like until now. Or, one that wasn’t covered by clown make-up.

But at M’s look, the one that screamed of tension and a history of judgment, Tim swallowed. He wasn’t entirely sure what the right reaction was after stating an obvious fact that could be interpreted as some kind of opinion since he was an idiot and had to go and blurt only…

Only he had been staring at Kon for two years.

Every time they were alone, Kon meeting him after school or playing games in Tim’s room at the Titan Tower, he willed himself to man-up, to something, to just say the words that pounded in his heart every time he saw those blue eyes shining down at him, that made him lose track of what he was originally saying because the other thoughts were so loud.

I like you.

I love you.

You are gorgeous.

But the image of Kon looking at Tim like he was an alien, of Kon saying their friendship was ruined, that what they had was never there at all, that he was leaving the team because of Tim… god people would die if Tim got this wrong.

“Yeah, kid. Have been our whole lives,” Midnighter broke Tim’s thoughts and pulled him back to the bloody sidewalk under his feet and the angry superheroes in front of him. Or at least one angry superhero and one smirking one. Which didn’t seem much better. “Got a problem with it?”

But something about his face and relaxed posture gave Tim the sense that he already knew the answer.

“No. Not at all, just…” he bit his lip, rolled his shoulders, and swallowed again. He could do this. He had questions, they had answers. He had just fought side by side with them to get past over forty guards while Bruce ran after Dick. “How did you two go on your first date? Were you worried about fucking up your friendship ever? How did you get over it? How did you know he would say yes? How did you ask him? Where did you go?”

Apollo laughed, a low warm sound that ran down Tim’s back like the heat of a summer day, like the way he felt running around the Kent’s farm in the pure sunshine listening to Connor laugh. He took a step closer, long fingers trailing down Midnighter’s arm before reaching out to touch Tim’s shoulder.

“It is never without risk, regardless of the gender, Robin,” he smiled gently, looking over his shoulder at M who had settled into a relaxed stance. “But the risks worth taking all the same. And if you’re as into him as you seem, he probably knows. He either feels the same, or likes you enough he won’t run away even if he doesn’t return your feelings. Things may change for a little while, but have faith.”

“You’re so cheesy,” Midnighter grumbled. “But he’s also right, kid. Keeping it inside won’t ever work out. Just tell him you think you like him. He’ll either be over the moon or turn you down.”

“Which would be awful for a little bit,” Tim’s face must have betrayed his panic at that idea because Apollo immediately stepped in. “But your friendship would survive. And you would be able to move on.”

“What if he hates me?”

Both men frowned slightly at that, Apollo’s fingers reaching for Midnighter’s.

“I highly doubt that will happen, but if it does, kid. Just call us. We’re pretty good at fighting the homophobes away.”

“Why are you fighting homophobes?” Dick’s voice called from behind them. “Whose butt do I need to help wipe the floor with?”

“No one’s, Dick. We got the ass-kicking under control,” Midnighter’s smirk was back as a dark eyebrow cocked. “Just like we took care of most of the bodies while you flipped around some lasers to save a blueprint.”

“Excuse you, you could not flip anywhere close to my level,” Dick’s face bypast outrage so fast that Tim almost missed it before his features settled into the familiar smug as his hips swung with confidence. Tim had spent hours trying to copy that, but knew he would never learn to do it when he wasn’t undercover for a case. Even Tim Wayne CEO was more uptight than Nightwing and Dick Grayson combined.

“True, but Apollo can fly so-”

“Was your mission successful?” The blonde broke into the banter with a fond expression of exasperation and patience. Dick answered by holding up a reinforced tube and extending fully on his tiptoes as if they couldn’t all see clearly from three feet away.

“Yep! Thank you for the help, and for… well I see you pulled some punches maybe.” Dick glanced around their feet. “You didn’t scar Robin did you?”

“Actually, they helped me figure some stuff out,” Tim said. Bruce’s eyebrow raise was hidden by the cowl, but Tim could feel it from several feet away as he hovered over Dick’s shoulder. No doubt Bruce was itching to get the blueprint added to the computer index and move away from Dick’s morally questionable murder friends. Tim probably wasn’t helping. “Not, not fighting stuff. But… personal stuff. Just, I’ll tell you later can we go home?”

“Please,” Bruce turned, cape swishing and the cockpit to the plane opening as Dick made a stricken face.

“Relax, ‘Wing. Your big-brother role is secure,” Midnighter soothed. Dick frowned a little, but the tension that had crept into his shoulders relaxed, but his eyes narrowed. He made the same face during family Clue night, so Tim was never able to take it seriously in the field. Jason called it “the Nightwing-Blue-Steel”.

“Well, okay then. You ready to roll, Robin?”

“Yeah, just one sec,” Tim turned to look back up at Apollo and Midnighter. “Thanks, for… sorry if… just, thanks.”

“No problem,” Midnighter saluted with two fingers, a smile still tugging at his lips.

“Tell us how it goes,” Apollo winked and Tim felt his blush heat even further. “Get home safe. Wherever home for the bats is.”

“It’s a literal cave,” Dick offered while Bruce hummed the plane to life. “Thanks again!”

“No problem,” Apollo waved, one hand wrapping around Midnighter again, who muttered something before a glowing door appeared. The couple stepped through and the portal closed instantly behind them.

“Well, they sure do know how to exit,” Tim offered as Dick waited for him to catch up.

“Yeah, they do,” an arm fell around his shoulders as blue fingers squeezed him closer. At least he would always have this, even if everything with Kon blew up in his face. “Now, what did you talk about?”

hyperioncompanyman  asked:

For the drabble request maybe Tim being sweet on Rhys or vice versa? Just the boys being cute.

some kind of modern au maybe college? shrugs


“I can’t believe you.”

Tim looks up from where he’s tuning his guitar, the wind ruffling at his bangs and sending him aflutter against his forehead. Rhys is looking at him with a tinge of blush on his cheeks, a secretive little curl of a smile on his lips.

“Um…what did I do?”

“You play the guitar.” Rhys shakes his head, laughter glittering in his eyes. “Oh and you cook and you’re smart and funny like…wow….okay Mr. Perfect.”

“Rhys, I can’t even play the guitar well, and it’s really easy to impress you when you’re favorite dish is mac n’ cheese with bacon and tomatoes…”

“Okay, and I can’t even play the kazoo or make a grilled cheese.” Rhys dramatically flopped his head against Tim’s shoulder, reaching up to poke the other man’s nose. 

“Perfect!”

“Umm….well….I have freckles?”

Rhys’ laughs.

“Sorry, Timmy, your freckles only add to your perfection!”

“Oh no!” Tim strums his guitar dramatically, before laying a hand against his forehead. “What shall I do?”

Rhys grins, rolling over onto his stomach and propping himself up on Tim’s lap. 

“Quick! If you kiss me, maybe I can suck some of the perfection out before it’s too late!” He puckered his lips and closed his eyes, an offer that Tim readily took with a giggle. 

chaosintheory  asked:

JASON PETER TODD WITH FRECKLES, tim tracing them in a sort of dazed manner, ''little constellations, star boy'' I'M, SORRY I NEEDED TO SHARE MY PAIN WITH SOMEONE AHHH, I'M DYING, scattered along his face, his shoulders, his upper back, a absolute mess of freckles. just JASON WITH FRECKLES. imcrying. jason being sort of shy about them a bit or just not really thinking much but tim adores them.

Jay would definitely have freckles! Especially on his shoulders. I think they’d become more apparent during the summer when he gets tan too. The ones on his face would be tiny so that only people who got really close (AHEM Tim) would be able to notice them. Tim would want to take pics of them and Jay would get all bashful about it because he’s not used to someone gushing over him like that. There was a storyline I believe that said jay was a natural red head and died his hair black(unless I’m mistaken?) so it’d make sense for him to have freckles!

thirtysixsavefiles  asked:

Prompt: “Don’t act like you’ve never seen a dead person talking before" w/Handsome Jack pls (can be paired w/anyone)

for this prompt meme

after tim signs his contracts, but before he goes for the surgeries to turn him into jack, tim gets a tour.

this got long. warning for a wee mention of vague gore/torture/jack being an ass.


“And this here,” Jack places a hand on the glass window, stares through it with something intense in his gaze. There’s none of his usual mania or exuberance, and the weird sinking feeling in Timothy’s gut that’s been building since he signed the papers suddenly solidifies into something terrible and coiled, heavy in his guts. “This is Lab 38. Also known as the Necromancer’s Crypt.” The intensity fades as he turns to Timothy, and rolls his eyes, entire body tilting back with the force of his eyeroll. “Nerds, am I right?”

Timothy glances past Jack, through the window. It looks just like the many other labs they’d walked past, and nothing like what he thinks a crypt should look like. Clean, cold lines; standard Hyperion issue. Harried looking people in lab coats. He’s pretty sure the guy in the back is drinking coffee from a bowl.

“Well whaddya think?” Jack’s eyes track across Timothy’s face, as if cataloguing his every feature. Timothy quashes the urge to rub his nose, at the freckles there. They’d been the first thing Jack had pointed out to the plastic surgeons, and Timothy has been extra self-conscious about them ever since.

Jack seems like he expects an answer, so Timothy gives him one.

“I’ve read enough books to know that messing around with dead bodies is never a good idea.”

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☀ Sam is NB. They/Them. The whites of their eyes are pale green, the irises are blue. Brown, fluffy hair with a green streak. Commonly seen wearing sweaters and jeans. Really affectionate, loves hugs, talks a lot.
☀ Tim is a boy. He/Him. Red-brown eyes. Brown/black, curly soft hair. Freckles and round framed glasses. Commonly seen wearing cute pixel art t-shirts or hoodies. Chubby. Friendly, has a stutter.
☀ The two of them are best friends. Sam likes cuddling Tim because they think Tom is rlly soft and nice to hug.
☀ Sam tries to count Tim’s freckles sometimes.
☀ Tim calls Sam, ‘Sammy’ sometimes.

dick with brown eyes and romani features (◡‿◡✿)

jason with red hair and freckles (◠‿◠✿)

tim with dark gray, almost black eyes (◕‿◕✿)

damian with asian/arabian features from talia’s side \(◕ ∇ ◕✿)/ 

diversity amongst the batboys instead of making them the same black haired/blue eyed white boys with different hair  *:・゚✧*:・゚✧\(⊙‿⊙✿)/ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧