Q:if youwant it:(1/4) Disappointing someone it difficult. It means that they had to have liked someone in the first place. Hiding is easy. A person can run away amd pretend they don't have to face the world again. So that's what Tim does. He hides; stows away in his room. He plays that he doesn't exist; that the would would spin on happier without him. It's not hard. Breathing is hard sometimes. Sometimes, breaths come quick and choked sounding. They can come with salty tears that run down cheeks.

Anonymous

Crying is too easy. When sorrows overwhelm thoughts. Tim doesn’t pretend he is perfect. That goes to Dick, the golden boy. He knows that he’s just dead weight, an extra. He doesn’t play at mattering to someone else. People don’t need him. People don’t see him. Tim hides up in his room and nurses his chest wound. He had gone to a movie with Bruce, Dick and Damian, at Dick’s insistence. The chest wound, a light burn, had ached throughout the movie. Tim hadn’t minded; he liked being included.

The seatbelt in the car had rubbed on it, and Tim hadn’t said a word. It itched and twinged and Tim didn’t care. He wasn’t going to ruin the moment. It just takes one slip up for him to show he isn’t needed. Damian is harping on him about how he should be stronger and shouldn’t be bothered by such a trivial issue. Tim declines the pain meds from Dick; he needs to prove that he’s strong. That he can handle it. Dick gets this disappointed look on his face and refused to talk to Tim.

Bruce doesn’t pay Tim any mind, doesn’t acknowledge him. Bruce doesn’t care. He only has eyes for his golden boy and real son. Tim retreats to his room as soon as possible, barely bothering with pleasantries to Alfred. He huddles up under all his covers and gazes at the moon. He ignores that happy conversation downstairs and pretends he’s a bird. One that could fly away from the manor. Tim turns and reaches for the pill bottle on his nightstand. He’s just not good enough.

SO SORRY I HAVEN’T RESPONDED ANON FAJSDFKLADSJ

BUT OH MY GOD THIS FIC

WEH

BABY TIM NO OH GOD BABY EAFDSKLFJ;KASD I CANNOT WHY NO

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

*rolls into the sun*

Baby. ;v;

Q:/Hot ass confirmed/ Jaime really, really needed to bang his head against a brick wall at Scarab's conclusion. Well it was right, Tim's ass was legendary in the vigilante business. And the villain business which was really the current problem. Jaime watched in wide eyed pre-hysterics as Luthor tried to sweet talk his Tim. /Photon cannons armed?/ Jaime closed his eyes in pain, not that anyone saw, and started making plans on how to get Tim to pay attention to him and not Luthor. /Aim and fire?/

jcolney

Awwwwwwwwwww yusssssssssssss.

Jaime/Tim yup yup yup <333333333333333333333333333333

Q:Damian tried not to drool as Tim slowly stripped, each piece of clothing carefully folded and placed in a pile, all the while more and more of Tim was made visible to Damian's hungry eyes. He almost started panting as Tim stretched, reaching down to the floor and showing off that perfect ass that legends should sing about, picking up the piece of soap from the wet floor as the shower sprayed on. Then Damian really was drooling, Tim stepping under the warm water and let it flow down his thin form

jcolney

I love you, you perfect person.

;v;

omg thank you.

I love you. I love my ginger ale. I love Damian/Tim. Also. 

Datass.