#connertim

Tim Drake never becomes Robin.

He doesn’t join the Batfam, doesn’t put on a cape, doesn’t swing across rooftops at thirteen.

Instead?

He grows up watching them. Documenting them.

Obsessed with the truth, with the people behind the masks—though, keeps it under wraps when he knows it's not in his place to expose such sensitive and private information.

( We love a reporter who knows what boundaries are )

So he becomes a reporter. Because of course he does.

And then his boss is like,

“Hey Tim. We’re sending you to Metropolis. Go write a feel-good piece about LexCorp’s new Superman.”

And Tim’s like: “Absolutely not.”

Also Tim: is on the train in 10 minutes with a bag full of sarcasm and trauma. “Cool. I’m gonna rip this entire operation apart.”

And THEN— Then he meets Conner Luthor / Superman 2.0

Like. The one that popped out of no where. The PR golden boy. The poster child.

This boy walks out of a press conference like a Disney prince.

Full sunshine smile. Messy black hair. Tight suit.

He’s been genetically engineered to be The Next Superman™.

He’s perfect. Like weirdly perfect. Too perfect.

And Tim IMMEDIATELY is like

“Fake. Corporate. Corperate-made boy scout.”

But then Conner looks at him and just goes:

“You’re the only person my age who hasn’t tried to ask me about my abs.”

AND TIM MALFUNCTIONS ON THE SPOT.

And then Tim asks him,

“What do you want to be?”

And Conner just stares at him and goes,

“I don’t know. No one’s ever asked me that before.”

LIKE—??!??!?! HELLO???

It’s so much worse because—

Conner? He’s not acting.

He’s sweet. Earnest. So painfully sincere it hurts.

He wants to help people. He wants to be good.

AND YET—he still gets flustered when Tim talks fast.

He still stares at him like he hangs the stars.

He flies Tim to the top of a radio tower just to watch the sunrise.

like sorry?? what do you MEAN the science experiment fell for the journalist with commitment issues and a hero complex

Cue rooftop talks.

Cue sneaking around LexCorp.

Cue Tim finding classified documents he was not supposed to see.

Cue Conner breaking through reinforced steel doors to save him.

And that’s when Tim Drake, journalist first and disaster gay second, realizes:

He’s not just in love with the story.

He’s not writing a story anymore.

He’s living one.

And the worst part?

He’s in love with the headline.