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#but yeah he's a dick for this
duckytree · 20 days
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big brother part 7
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damian would NEVER tell his big brothers, but he loves it when they pick him up from school.
though damian isn't well-liked, and is a prime target for bullying, everyone knows about the other wayne boys, respectable yet highly intimidating.
so when one of the other batboys shows up to take him home, damian knows that all his onlooking tormentors shake in their boots for a split second, realising that their "what are you going to do?? tell your brothers??" probably wasn't the best taunt to use against him.
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abisalli · 8 months
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Tim falling over like a loser. jpeg part 2
social media AU part 5
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renecdote · 2 months
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do you think Bruce ever lies awake at night thinking about all the things he has taught his kids and how it seemed like a good idea at the time but maybe some of those habits are actually more bad than good
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dendromancer · 5 months
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no because stede is truly humanity's strongest soldier he just had sex with the love of his life, and it was the first positive sexual experience of his life. and then ed tells him that he considers last night a mistake, and you can see how much it hurts him but he understand ed is panicking so he says that they can be whatever they want to be without pressure. and THEN ed says out of the blue that he's leaving to become a fisherman apropos of nothing. and this definitely fucks with him since he believes what ned said about ed liking him only because he's an amateur
anyway if i was stede i would have fallen off that balcony hoping to get head trauma
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qcomicsy · 1 year
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Jason: You redecorated the league. . . You don't seem the designer type.
Future!Damian: I told all of you I rebuilt the League from the ground.
Jason: You said scratch–
Dick: And you didn't mean literally–
Future!Damian:
Dick:
Dick: Oh my god you did– He did mean literally.
Bruce: You blew up the league of assassin's?
Future!Damian: No, I am not stupid.
Future!Damian: Timothy did.
Future!Damian: Twice.
Bruce: Twice??
Tim:
Tim: You know, I can't even pretend to be surprised on that one. I really would.
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sreppub · 1 year
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winter uniforms for those cold gotham nights
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can-a-tuna-fish · 2 months
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Give him $25 and he will come home with a bag full of food that hasn’t seen the light of day since the early 90’s.
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megamindsupremacy · 2 years
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DC Twitter must have been INSANE when it got out that Superboy’s dads were Superman and Lex Luthor. Holy shit. The memes. The ship wars. The homophobes. The mpreg jokes. People would have lost their fucking minds. Lex Luthor releases a statement like “he’s a clone of me and Superman no birth was involved” and people are like KINDA GAY OF YOU TO HAVE A SON WITH ANOTHER MAN, LUTHOR. Lexcorp’s PR team locks themselves in a conference room and refuses to come out for love or money.
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tightjeansjavi · 1 month
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When I write Joel, or any other Pedro boy…you best believe they’re gonna have a HUGE cock. Big, big, big cocks, hands, etc. MASSIVE in every possible way. If he ain’t rearranging my guts and telling me: “Can you feel me all up in your tummy, darlin?’ Yeah. Right fuckin’ there. Feel me there?”
I simply don’t want it 😌
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thedramaticduke · 1 year
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Disney: Yeah, sorryy, we don't know how to make villains without queercoding them and people didn't like the twist-villains, so we stopped making them alltogether :( I hope you like 3593 intergenerational family-traumas!
Dreamworks, while creating not one, not two, but three amazing villains: Pathetic
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astorianyxkings · 2 months
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Oldest Daughter Dick™ is probably one of my favourite things ever. And it always will be and here's why:
Of course Dick loves his siblings and of course he loves that they know Bruce as the father he is. But it won't stop the jealousy he feels. And no one gets it, not even Jason. They were all raised by Bruce Wayne, he was raised by Batman.
When Dick came to live with him, Bruce had no idea how to he a father. How to handle normal kid stuff like sicknesses and school events let alone the fact he was an acrobat. He was Batman and Dick was raised to be not just his successor but the only contingency plan he had against himself.
Bruce never held his punches ("That was a good block but I still got you, didn't I?" Bruce had said, rubbing cream into the blossoming bruise on Dick's side. "I'll get you next time," Dick had promised, young eyes challenging. "You better." Bruce had grinned back.) All attacks were to remind him that he was at a disadvantage strength wise and thus needed to re-evaluate his lines of defense and offense.
Dick was raised by the paranoid-in-his-late-twenties-probably-shouldn't-be-a-dad-despite-what-Marisol-said Bat. A fun game of catch? He was dodging Batarangs. Learning to drive? It was the Batmobile and he was age 14 (and a half). School events? He was fumbling, awkward and did not want to be there (but still was because he'll be damned if his boy didn't have his support.)
And you know that's fine, Dick was fine. It wasn't Bruce's fault he didn't know how to be a proper dad, despite Alfred's parenting books and videos. And he did try, he was always there. But it just really hits a sore spot everytime he sees Bruce hold a punch before he knocks Tim out cold or when he's behind the wheel with Steph telling her what not to do. Or even when he's at school with Damian and Duke making Marjory and her cupcakes look ridiculous compared to him and his coconut crumble cakes.
It also irritates Dick beyond senseless whenever the topic of sparring with Bruce is mentioned. ("We can all beat the old man Goldie, he's ancient." Jason shrugs off and Dick wanted to scream.) The only one who even tries to sympathize with him was Cass. More than likely because she'd seen him fight as Batman The Dark Knight before seeing him fight as Bruce The Father of Six-Almost-Eight.
And it just really stings because he can't relate to being raised by Bruce the way the others can't. Bruce changed for them, not him. And maybe that kind of hurts. But maybe he's overreacting.
What he doesn't realize is he's the reason why Bruce changed. Bruce saw the hurt and anger in Dick's eyes when he fired him from Robin (Think Shifu denying Tai Lung the Dragon Warrior scroll). He knew the second he saw the betrayal in Dick's eyes after seeing Jason as Robin, that he'd have to change. (The same way Shifu should've changed for Tigress but I digress, not that fandom).
Bruce pulls his punches because he hated seeing Dick limp away from their sparring matches—despite the fire and promise of a rematch in his eyes. He teaches them how to drive regular cars before the Batmobile because the one time Dick crashed (while trying to avoid some of Poison Ivy's vines) his heart rate skyrocketed so high Clark had called him up demanding to know if he was okay. He shows up for Duke and Damian and Cass and Tim because Dick's smile whenever he saw Bruce in the parent's lounge never failed to make him melt.
Bruce stands firm on the fact that while he may have made a hero out of Dick, Dick Grayson made a father out of Bruce Wayne.
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waterisntreal · 9 months
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Ayo I’m probably a little late on this but why are the variant covers for Robins so fucking horny
Like what the fuck is this shit
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Especially the Nightwing one it’s basically softcore porn
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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
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Taking the Wheel
Time Written-10:47 p.m
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Dick Grayson/fem!reader smut
Clink, clack, clink, clack. The sounds of heels faintly echoed across the long since faded parking lot, carelessly crossing through thin spaces in between cars and trucks to throw the irritating bastard off your back.
Since you didn’t had arrive with friends, and the main reason you arrived to the packed Lounge, especially on weekends, quickly failed, you were left to walk a long ways across the vehicular maze to get towards your car.
A long, irritating walk on eroded asphalt, in obnoxiously irritating footwear.
Honestly? You could’ve cared less for the foot ache, attempting to push your pace to get towards your destination, your club mood spoiled over by a new desire of getting in your warm, vacant bed at home. Your attempt at distracting your endlessly rattled mind by going towards one of the hottest clubs in the city proved to be a complete failure.
This was Gotham. You knew better than to believe you were going to enjoy a night out for clubbing, completely ignorant to the possibility of the last man you ever expected to arrive, clad in his goddamn uniform, on the search for you.
The only way you learned it was him throughout all the blaring music and strong strobe light ambiance was the roar of patrons crowding around the hottest man of the hour around the dance floor.
What a stupid plan honestly, especially with the overwhelming presence of the obnoxious vigilante following shortly behind you, wondering if you were just doing this to get a reaction out of him.
“You can stop following me now, Grayson.”
It was strangely empty tonight, how he managed to shake off the crowds to go after you alone was a question you could’ve cared less to understand or answer.
"You're walking at night? Alone? You realize you live in Gotham, right?”
You only continued walking, holding yourself with your clutch purse tucked under your shirt, your heels scraping along stray parking lot gravel.
"Aren’t you cold?" Dick asks, trying to hide his worry about you being in that dress in this sixty five degree night.
He was right, watching your head shake no, despite how you carried yourself.
"Oh, come on." Dick says in assuming defeat, only to surprise you via cutting off your path by hopping up on the nearest challenger hood, abruptly jumping in front of your path.
“You can't just walk off like nothing just happened between us." Dick asserts, meeting your aggravated stare.
“Get out of my way—“
"Look, I'm tired of giving you space. Call me clingy, I don’t care. We need to talk about what happened, right now." The words sound more desperate than he intended, other than stern and demanding.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” You mutter, attempting to continue your walk before he holds a hand out in front of you, preventing you from squeezing past him.
"There’s always something to say,” Dick says, hoping you’d try to look back at him.
You’re clearly hurting more than you’re letting on. He can’t really blame you.
You’re no party girl, but you are a girl he hurt. Throwing yourself back out into the dating pool was a typical response, even he’s done it, but he can’t let that happen this time. Not with you.
"Let's... let's talk about this somewhere safe, okay?" He asks, looking down at you. You shift your head a bit, giving him an annoyed glare.
“I wanna go home, okay?” You nearly spat back to him, insisting to yourself that you had no patience to deal with him.
Dick doesn't immediately move in response, gazing down at you with sympathy instead of irritation, such a heart throb in his pretty eyes.
He probably practiced this often every morning in the mirror ever since you broke up, keeping you hooked like a mouse with cheese, or a pretty boy who always knew what to say.
“… Okay.”
He offers his hand out, awaiting your keys in his open palm.
“At least let me drive you home.” He offers, remaining stagnant until he received the only answer he expected. It’ll make him feel a whole lot better knowing you weren’t in the worst place in Gotham right now.
You could only huff through your nose before rummaging through your purse, pulling out your keys.
“Fine,” you mutter, dropping the item into his quickly closing hand. “Just home. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” Dick confirms with a hand raised before stepping off to the side, allowing you to walk ahead of him. “Promise.”
The car was warm, the heater constantly blowing warm air against your exposed back, nearly bumping back against your leather steering wheel.
The driver’s seat had long since been reclined, the material lightly squeaking in response to your sweaty bodies shuffling against each other. Lips battling in between teeth and tongue for dominance he willingly gave you, giving you the impression of control.
His body completely hidden by the suit, while you were still in your backless, black sequin party dress.
Sure, the car was private and warm, the alley was dark, the only light coming from the tiny radio screen, faintly reflecting off the various tiny black sequins of your dress, now pulled down from your torso, decorating your waist like a belt of dying stars.
You remembered the way his gloved hands impatiently unclipped the seatbelt so he could pull you across to his lap after an unprecedented, filthy make-out. The way he had purposely massaged the insides of your thighs caused electricity to shoot through you, needing you as close as physically possible, your short dress riding up precariously over your thighs.
"I should have done this sooner," Dick grunts against your painted lips while pinching your nipples in his thumbs, your nails rasping down the smooth material of his Nightwing suit, pulling it off his shoulders.
“D’you think someone will see us like this…?”
"No one's gonna be looking," Dick gasps out, his tone confident while dripping with cocky arrogance. "And if they do... who the hell cares."
Dick could barely focus on what was happening outside the car as it was.
For some reason, that thought made this all the more exciting. Not that the thought of being seen with a beautiful woman in Nightwing’s lap ever seemed like a bad thing.
“You looked amazing in this dress..." he runs a hand along the curve of your hip.
"But you look a lot better without it."
You’d physically cringe if you weren’t so damn aroused. Only someone like him could pull off cheesy one liners about eighty six percent of the time.
"So do something about it,” you whisper, nipping his bottom lip in your teeth, nearly contemplating on drawing blood once he chuckled.
"With pleasure, Princess.”
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he lifted you slightly with such ease, allowing him to pull his hard cock from the torturous material that suffocated him.
It would’ve been a much quicker process to undress if he randomly decided to arrive in that god awful disco suit, but it was far too late to complain now.
Prep was limited to the pleasant view of Dick stuffing three fingers into your warm hole, smirking at your hiss before raising them to his mouth, making a show of gathering his own spit while tasting you, before giving the tip of his red, angry cock a few quick strokes.
His fingers hooked your thin, messy panties to the side, hiding his mused smile from your gaze upon hearing your terribly hidden whimper as you felt the soft, blunt tip poking at your opening. A large gasp of air quickly invaded and evaded your lungs as you pushed down on him, feeling him splitting you open inch by torturously thick inch.
His own lust begged the rest of his consciousness to push further into you, aching to stuff the rest of himself inside your wet, greedy cunt. Luckily, you listened to your own thoughts, sinking yourself the rest of the way until you were properly seated, your bare thighs resounding against his with limited time to adjust.
"Holy-" He finds himself whining out, nearly crumbling apart from your silky, sweet cunt gripping him like a damn vice. Incidentally, his grip on your thong tightened after an involuntary thrust, forcing the weak band to snap apart.
The man could’ve cared less, carelessly tossing the ruined garment before gripping your hips with both hands, fingers hooking along your dress as an additional anchor to feverishly fuck you, hearing your breathing shift into quick, eager moans.
He wanted to take control so bad, but he was losing it before he even began.
The moans he emitted were heavenly, the muscles in his throat constricting as his head tilts back against the rest. He groans out your name in a delightful sigh, his fingers digging into your plush ass.
Lipstick prints littered his neck, eyes squeeze shut behind his domino mask.
“God, I've missed you,” the vigilante whimpers out, admiring your silvery necklace clink along the valley of your perfect, juicy tits bouncing erratically close to his chest, accompanied by the jingle of your matching bangles as you sunk your nails deep into the muscles along his back.
Dick's heavy lidded eyes gazed at your flushed face, your cheeks tinted pink with heavy, orgasmic blush. Your mascara stained lashes littered with cloudy black tears, bits of dappled glitter in the corners of your eyes, your signature touch, remaining poised along your perfect face. The picture he always looked forward to taking after every successful date night.
"Do you feel how much I've missed you?" Dick grumbles against your shoulder, his voice breathless, despite his best efforts to control his emotions. “Feel how hard, how deep, just fucking into this pussy? That’s all you baby.” The seemingly endless cooes against your neck render endless shivers down your spine, garnering the exact reactions he wanted from you; straining against the tight clench of your eager cunt.
"Oh-God. Fuuuck yes, missed you so much, princess,” Dick whispers, his tone filled with lust and excitement. He teetered on the edge of begging you to bite him again, to mark his neck up however with as many nips as you please, eager to see such raw evidence of your teeth marks in the morning.
“Mph— take it, baby. F-fucking take it all.”
You could only moan in response to his many words against his neck, your painted eyes nearly fluttering closed as you persist on your relentless pace. He was enjoying this a little too much, as much as you were, if not more.
Amidst the mind numbing euphoria of fucking his ex girlfriend in her own car, calloused hands full of black sequins and exposed skin, even he was calling himself an idiot in his own mind as he whimpers a lot louder than he intended within your shared ecstasy.
He was a damn idiot, thinking only about how much he’s hated being in a relationship with anyone except you. How much you’ve grown to become his favorite person; the one woman he needs every damn night. Every second of the damn day.
And if he wants to prove it by having you ride his cock in the seat of a car parked in a secluded alleyway, so be it. He’ll spoil you with a white plush bed caked in rose petals once after you agree to get back together with him.
"Ba-Baby..." Dick croaks through his stutter, his voice cracking slightly as he watches you come to an abrupt halt to his dismay.
A weak, pathetic grunt spews from his lips as you roll your hips, rocking along his lap, his bruised Adam’s apple bobbing after each whimper and whine. "Don’t stop—don’t stop. Shiiit, I’m begging you—“
His words muffle in a quick second as you stuff your ruined, bunched up thong into his mouth, cerulean eyes widening in surprise by boldness.
Many times he’s taken the lead, regardless over where your horny selves ended up. Any recollection of him doing this to you quickly faded once you locked eyes, his brows raised in surprise and submission to your taunt, prideful expression, lipstick smeared lips scowling in annoyance.
Right now, right now you wanted nothing more than to take out your frustrations on him. Even if it was one of the least violent thoughts you had when it came to him, you compensated via heavy scratches and relentless bites on his neck, and now this.
He wouldn’t be whining like such a bastard in a rut without your sweet, creamy pussy downgrading him from an arrogant, cocky, fearless vigilante into a raspy, quivering disciple. Bright, pretty putty in your hands.
Your hands grasped along the back of his head, purposefully frazzling his sweaty, perfect locks of hair as you eagerly chased another kiss. Your hands gripped his hair tighter causing him to take a sharp intake of air in.
You wouldn’t be such a quivering mess without the constant spear of his hard, delicious cock. A victim to this nearly endless cycle of ‘Fuck now, ask questions later.’
‘Or, just fuck some more later.’
You knew this, and you knew he’d give you what you wanted first before you even considered the idea of forgiving him.
“I need you to- fuck, j-just shut up. Shut up a-and keep going, Dick. Keep— Keep going. Just- Just keep fucking me.”
He stares straight ahead at the rich goddess amidst the fogged up windshield in front of him, his hands reinforcing his grasp along your thighs.
Obediently, he picked up the pace, the fat head hitting directly on your sweet spot much rougher and faster with intentions to leave you bruised, hoping you’d allow him to care for you for the rest of the week shortly after.
He moaned much louder against the damp, pheromone laced fabric, swallowing up your sickeningly sweet venom while he pistons his hips, making his soaking wet, twitchy balls constantly smack against your overstretched cunt.
Oh, if only you knew how much you drove Richard Grayson wild, if only you knew.
Hell, what was the argument even about? Neither of you could barely remember anymore.
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undertheredhood · 4 months
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pre-death jason anytime bruce is being annoying: the way you’re currently behaving is the reason why nightwing left you
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ghost-bxrd · 19 days
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Prompt:
It’s turning out to be a bad day when Jason finds himself stabbed during a drug bust.
It’s turning out to be a very bad day when he starts to feel woozy (seriously, what the hell? It was just a little stabbing) and promptly collapses.
It’s turning out to be a monumentally bad day when the batfamily drop in on his drug bust.
And then the night takes a hard nose dive into catastrophically bad, because whatever toxin that blade was laced with? It’s making his heartbeat slow down into near flatline, paralyzing Jason in the process.
And now he’s stuck listening to his family lose it completely upon finding his “dead” body.
… shit.
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