#dc comics#batman#dc#tim drake#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#batfamily#dc fanart
seen from Australia
seen from Australia
seen from Romania
seen from Canada
seen from Portugal
seen from China
seen from T1
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Arab Emirates
“Shit,” Chloe groaned, turning around in a circle. “Yep I’m definitely lost. Does ANYONE know how to get to the frickin Space Needle?”
TAG DROP FOR A REVAMPED 206hq !!
please disregard any old posts by previous members below this one. thank you !
Ben sat, flipping through the book of instructions for the tree house he was making his daughter. None of it was making sense and he was almost certain half of the steps were in a different language. He let a little laugh out before finally looking over to the person next to him “every time I think I can figure out the Ikea instructions and every time I'm reminded that I still can’t figure them out.”
“God dammit, this fuckin’ traffic will be the end of me..” A closed fist came down hard on the steering wheel of a midnight black camaro. Mark Miller had been in the same spot for fifteen minutes and the line was only just beginning to slowly move forward. Though being head of the firm allowed him to show up when he wanted to, this morning was a little different as there was a meeting regarding an upcoming trial.
As he took his exit off the highway, a green light turned straight to red when he reached it. Slamming on his brakes, his fists immediately made contact with the steering wheel again. It had been mentioned to him before that he needed to consider anger management but he kept putting it off. As he opened his mouth to mumble more expletives, his phone buzzed in the passenger seat. He answered, irritably. “What?” he hissed. “Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” The voice of his ex spewed into his ear, slowly relieving some of his pent up tension.
Before the conversation could continue, Mark was jolted forward against the steering wheel, his jaw crashing against it and phone slipping from his grasp. A large clank sounded as another car slammed into the back of his. “Son of bitch,” he growled, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. Forcing the car into park, he grabbed his phone off the ground, yelling that he would call her back. He exited the car, slamming the door behind him as he walked over to the tail end. At the sight of the scratched up and dented bumper, Mark lifted his clenched fist to his mouth, teeth sinking deep into his skin in an attempt to restrain himself. “What did I do to deserve this shit?!” he spat, turning around to meet the other driver.
