#and they come calling

[thediamondmodcart]

There’s a mall in this fuckin place?? 🎗

Oh hey Peg. Yeah.

[anotherpapercut]

I don't really think it's fair to dismiss the idea that that guy might have been framed for killing the CEO as like an unfounded conspiracy theory when NYPD has a proven history of planting/fabricating evidence on people. in 2011 there was a massive investigation of the NYPD and hundreds of cases against people were dismissed after a former police officer testified that they literally have a name for planting evidence on people: flaking. you cannot be out here acting like considering the possibility that cops who do this shit under normal circumstances might possibly also do it when they're under intense global pressure and scrutiny is the same as republicans thinking democrats run a secret pedophile ring in the basement of a pizza restaurant

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Finally caught up with Apothecary Diaries. I can't believe they gave Maomao a gun.

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

Batman gives each of his Robins a different code to use when they’re in trouble and need immediate extraction. He promises that when they call, he’ll drop everything just to get to them, come hell or high water.

Jason, during his time with the League, shares his code with Damian, to be used “only in the direst of circumstances, when you have exhausted all other options.” He doesn’t know if Bruce will answer, given how fractured their relationship was before he died, but it is better than nothing. Every tool counts when they live such dangerous lives.

Damian uses it exactly once, and Bruce, who still feels the loss of his son like a yawning chasm in his chest, responds to it even though he knows it can’t be Jason because Jason’s dead. What he finds, instead of Jason, is a boy in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-small feet, with a face that Bruce sees himself and Talia in, requesting asylum from a grandfather who wishes to possess his body. Bruce doesn’t question how this boy who is so clearly his son knew the code. Talia al Ghul is resourceful and places family above all; the code is not beyond her abilities to discover, and she is not above using Bruce’s desperate love for his dead son to ensure that hers does not meet the same fate.

Bruce takes Damian in, because of course he does, and since Jason is dead he allows Damian to keep using the code. After all, it’s not like Jason is alive to use it, right? If someone uses the code, there’s no one it could be but Damian, right?

The next time the code is used, Bruce traces the location to Gotham even though Damian was supposed to be in Bludhaven visiting Dick. But whatever happened that resulted in Damian being in Gotham can wait, because he has already failed one son and he will not fail another, his son is in trouble and he needs to get to him, he needs to—

What he finds, instead of Damian, is a boy (just eighteen, too young, but also too old, but also he will always be a boy to him) in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-large feet (when had he gotten so big), wearing the face of his dead son.

(Who, maybe, just maybe, may no longer be so dead.)

[captainjonnitkessler]

Sometimes I wish we would start calling out the performative radicalism on this site for the poser bullshit it is. "Remember, it's always morally correct to kill a cop!" "Don't forget to firebomb your local government office!" "Wow, it sure would be a shame if these instructions on how to make a molotov cocktail got spread around!"

Okay. But you're not killing cops or firebombing government offices. You are posting on a dying microblogging website to a carefully-curated echo chamber that has radicalized itself into thinking that taking the absolute most extreme position on any subject is praxis but that anyone discussing the most practical way to effect actual change is your sworn enemy. You do not have the street cred OR the activist cred to be talking about killing cops, babe.

[prlssprfctn]

Give me Bruce and Jason, who are not on the war path anymore, but they are still awkward and absolutely clueless on how to make things up, so they pretend that they need something from each other in order to spend some time together. Even if these things are absolutely simple, and both of them could handle it themselves, if they wanted to.

Bruce, calling Jason in the random Friday night: So, Alfred left for a week. And I promised kids to do a homemade cake for them. And you know how useless I am in the kitchen. So.

Jason, who knows that Bruce is, in fact, not useless in the kitchen, but low-key misses cooking with him, because the last time they did it, it was Alfred's birthday before his death, and they did the cake together: Theoretically, I agree.

Bruce, sighing in relief: Theoretically, I will need you in Manor tomorrow in the morning. And I theoretically will pay for that.

Jason: Theoretically, see you tomorrow.

Bruce: Theoretically, thank you.

Jason, dealing Bruce in the middle of the night: Old man. Bail me out of the prison. I am in CGDP's building.

Bruce, knowing well that Jason wouldn't be caught in the first place, if he didn't want all of this to happen, and even if he did, he would easily escape without him, getting involved, but also knowing that today is anniversary of the day Bruce adopted Jason, and it is his way to spend time together: ...Okay. May I ask what did you do?

Jason: ...Stole Gordon's tires.

Bruce, stifling his laughter: I see. I will be here in a few minutes.

[cronchy-baguette]

double posting this comic bc tbh it deserves its own post.... thinking about how elphie was definitely crying after she runs off to hide somewhere following popular... what do the two of them think about afterwards....

[notrobinsomethingworse]

Dick (Nightwing) and Jason (Robin) stare at Bruce. One sports pleading eyes, the other a shit eating grin. There’s a child between them with black hair and blue eyes.

Bruce, he doesn’t know what’s happening but he doesn’t like it: No.

Dick, grinning: He’s our younger brother now.

Jason, nodding seriously: You’re not gonna take him from us.

Tim, got kidnapped while taking photos of patrol, just happy to be there: Where’s the Batcave?

Bruce: what.

Dick, grinning wider: He’s ours now.

[patopq]

mother

[violent138]

There comes a time when the criminals prefer being taken in by Batman, because his kids go a little overboard:

Goon: "You won't kill me."

Cass: "You ready to bet your life on that?"

Duke: *tosses her the gun they took off the guy* "I would do what she says."

---------

Random thug: "Hey Batman doesn't kill--"

Damian: "Not like he's here. You're certainly not going to be able to tell him."

---------

Tim: "Well, accidents do happen. Shame." *starts to let go of the rope*

Guy dangling off the building: "No, no okay, okay, I'll tell you!"

---------

Steph: *clears throat*

Gang members: "We surrender!" *multiple guns fall to the ground*

Steph: "I see my reputation precedes me, wise choice."

---------

*Bruce gets chewed out by Gordon by the Batsignal because the rumours have spread so much, it kind of sounds like Batman's kids have been going around murdering people*

Bruce: "In my defense, it's only one of them."

Gordon: "What."

Bruce: *realizes he never filled Gordon in on Red Hood*

[thediamondmodcart]

…Hello? 🎗

[You shuffle back.]

[You squint.]

[noodles-and-tea]

:(

[eraserbread]

nanami married you four days ago... he's so obsessed with you he forgets how to be. <3

kento's been physically unable to keep his hands off you since you took his surname. there's just something different in the way you move around him.

like this morning, you slide out of the big resort bed in absolutely nothing, dragging your feet as you head to the showers. of course you were careful not to stir your sleeping husband, but you couldn't last another second under the mugginess of the comforters. though, your langkawi honeymoon resort was full of love, just not air conditioning. kento hated sleeping with windows open, so you succumbed to the mugginess.

as soon as you turn on the shower spray and dip your head under, the door draws open so slowly you don't even notice it. you can only notice the sudden rush of cold that falls over your skin. peeking open a single eye, you smile when you see him shedding his sleep shirt and stepping into the steamy, tiled sanctuary with you.

he doesn't speak a word, but every little movement is so deliberate and kind. starting at your shoulder, he traces the expanse of your neck, breathing heavily behind you before pressing a kiss right above his touch. you crane your neck, offering him more.

"i hate to be a bother, but you are just so beautiful this morning." he whispers against your wet ear, nuzzling deeper into his back with his stringy, blonde hair dripping down his shoulders. "can you feel it? how much I need you? can I put it in - my nanami, please?"

he knows you'll say yes, but always asks. you'll always tell him to touch you whenever he needs it, but he's so respectful it's stupid. so, you nod, rubbing water out of your eyes so when you turn around, you can see him through the fog. all of his tight features, the cut of his jaw, the softness of his eyes. it all rings true and feels like home.

wrapping both arms around his shoulders, you nod. "as long as you keep treating me so well, you can have whatever you need." you remind him, leaning close to trail yours across his dripping lips.

"now, i'm not a religious man, nor did I lead a very fulfilling life. but, you, my dear..."

"what?" you're flushed, still so used to his compliments but always prisoner to his charm.

"you are my purpose."

around his back, your hands turn to fists, trying to fight the visceral body response his words never fail to give you. "god, don't look at me like that. you're perfect."

he would humor you more, but that look in your eyes makes him rather fuck you gruelingly slow against the harshness of the hot water.

so, that's what he does.

shower sex always unnerved you, but kento is so alarmingly stable on his two feet that he can sustain the weight of both of you against the slickness. it just gives him purpose for fucking you soft and slow, watching the girth of his cock split you open so delicately like you're made for him.

he makes you watch, this time, wrapping your legs around his waist as he supports you against the shower wall. you love the feeling of his thick fingers digging into the swell of your ass, and love the sound of his sweet, deep voice, recognizing all of your lewd tendencies.

"see how it gets all red when I pull out. like you're blushing on my cock, my baby - nanami."

"mm, oh i love that,"

"look at it," he demands, pressing the top of his head to yours as you let it hang between your shoulders. "no matter how many times I do this to you, I never get over just how well I fit..."

"almost like you're made for me. in fact, I know you were."

[sophiebaybey]

Not to preach to the choir but I wonder if people generally realize that AI models like ChatGPT aren't, like, sifting through documented information when you ask it particular questions. If you ask it a question, it's not sifting through relevant documentation to find your answer, it is using an intensely inefficient method of guesswork that has just gone through so many repeated cycles that it usually, sometimes, can say the right thing when prompted. It is effectively a program that simulates monkeys on a typewriter at a mass scale until it finds sets of words that the user says "yes, that's right" to enough times. I feel like if it was explained in this less flattering way to investors it wouldn't be nearly as funded as it is lmao. It is objectively an extremely impressive technology given what it has managed to accomplish with such a roundabout and brain-dead method of getting there, but it's also a roundabout, brain-dead method of getting there. It is inefficient, pure and simple.

[dkettchen]

I think the british medical association just won the own of the year by calling the supreme court ruling "scientifically illiterate" 👌👌👌😂

[bruciemilf]

We truly underestimate how THIRSTY gothamites would be for Batman.

First off: The fact that Gotham citizens haven’t mass migrated to other cities tells me they’re absolute freaks. Yeah, you can get an apartment for 13$/mo, but chances are, Joker’s either gonna be your roommate, or neighbor. Not worth it.

Secondly: He’s big tiddy goth gf personified.

He cannot get any work done because he’s catcalled. Constantly. Sometimes during interrogations.

“You can tell me where Penguin’s next hit is gonna be, or I can smash your fingers.”

“Smash ME!”

Bruce, with the biggest sigh ever to exist: Please go back home, random civilian.

It gets particularly worse after he starts adopting the batkids, because now, not only has he achieved gravity shattering MILF status, he’s so busy with child rearing he sometimes forgets to shave.

Gotham twitter starts going crazy for the #Batbeard, and it gives the batkids severe brain damage. Everytime someone tweets about wanting to ride Bruce’s face, a piece of their soul dies.