JayTim chipmunk au where they are anthropomorphic chipmunks and Tim stuffs all of Jason’s cum in his cheeks…
Im sorry…
Blame Bun…
-you know who
ahem. gulp.
sorry, i mean jason jerking off over tim's mouth trying to fill his mouth with cum
sorry, i mean tim jerking off over jason as he drips into jason's mouth and whenever the slick rolls down tim's thighs jason nearly cries because he's not allowed to lick it up
sorry, i mean tim sucking jason off while jason eats tim out and whoever gets his own mouth full first wins and this should be easier for jason because tim leaks like a faucet but jason can't keep himself from swallowing and swallowing and swallowing and tim is dripping down his chin and thighs and every time jason licks it up he swallows on instinct (of course, he does, tim spent a lot of time training him) so maybe tim wins in the end, but tim's also content to sit on jason's face for the rest of the afternoon so he can't really be too upset either way
um. okay. i think the prompt kinda got lost in the sauce there. and by sauce, i mean...well, i shan't say
I see a DC Bunny!!! I wanna know more pls 🙏(also wanna know more about your coffee fic👀?)
lol I had a feeling you'd ask about the bunny fic 💕💕 I'll put part of bunny first and then morning after (my coffee fic) 💕💕
Bunny
"So," starts a voice from behind Bruce. The voice surprised him. He'd been getting long looks all night and there have been more stares than usual, but usually, his scandals make the news and the news makes people whisper. The papers have all been quiet, though. Bruce turned and saw a face he half recognized from parties spent half drunk. "Bunny's got teeth, huh?"
Bruce laughed. He laughed because he couldn't frown. Couldn't ask who Bunny was. He'd tried before but people would only ever laugh and slap his back and assume he was in on the joke.
Bunny was the joke. It seemed to be a made up person. People would only talk about Bunny at parties, and even then, it was a group of rowdier businessmen still trying to prove themselves. Make a name and such.
"Really? Last I heard, Bunny was jumping around like usual."
The problem was that Bruce couldn't figure out what the joke was. People would often talk to him about Bunny--they had for a while now. Likely more than five years, though he couldn't put an exact date on it.
People would talk about Bunny and how good Bunny was and how soft Bunny was and how kind Bunny was.
And how young.
And how talented.
And Bruce had a soft spot for kids, so he asked how young Bunny was.
Fifteen, they said.
Fifteen, and it had been two years since then.
Fifteen and they had to be messing with him because everyone knew he had a soft spot for kids and they were just messing with him because how could a fifteen year old have earned the name Bunny?
It was off-putting. Bunny implied youth, immaturity. They were naive and playful and fucked like mad and Bunny was fifteen.
The stranger furrowed his brow, “You didn’t hear about Ryan?”
Bruce hadn’t.
He’d noticed that Ryan Leitner hadn’t been at the party, but he often skipped out on these things, and when he did attend, he was always by Tim’s side.
They were close, the two of them. Ryan went to school with Jack and was close with both the late Drakes. Once they passed, their company got passed down to him. Tim would have been under his guardianship as well, if not for Tim’s uncle.
“No,” Bruce said, already fearing the worst. Fearing how he’d break the news to Tim. “What happened?”
The stranger glanced over his shoulder before leaning in close and whispering, “He’s dead.”
Bruce drew a sharp breath.
No, no, no.
He wanted to ask how it happened, wanted to give his condolences, wanted to ask if Tim knew yet or if Bruce would have to break the news.
But before he could get out a word, the stranger whispered, “Bunny killed him.”
Morning After
The only reason Jason would ever be awake at 7:26 in the morning would be because he slept over at the manor and needed to be up and out before Bruce was awake.
This time was no exception. They’d been chasing the Mad Hatter for a while now, trying to figure out his grand scheme and, for the record, they did figure it out last night, and foiled it too, which was why Jason was so thuroughly exhausted, but muscles weak from exherstion wouldn’t stop him from avoiding Bruce, so he’d dutifully set his alarm so he’d be up and out before Bruce had the slightest.
Seven was a bit earlier than he needed, but he learned the first time that Alfred would stop him for a meal on the way out, and Jason could drag his feet and pussy around as much as he wanted, but as much as Alfred wanted him to stay for a meal, he wanted the same.
The man wasn’t making him do anything he didn’t already want to, and he understood that Jason wanted to get out of there, so he never went the whole nine yards, always opting to make something simple and filling that they could share over tea.
With thirty minutes having passed, though, both their plates were empty, and the kettle wasn’t far behind. Jason was just about to make his final pleasantries when Tim walked in the kitchen and the world came to a halt.
Like the rest of them, Tim was out last night, and it showed.
He was dressed like the pile of laundry Jason had in the corner of his room. The hoodie was covered in stains, and Tim was wearing boxers, but his pants were nowhere in sight, which gave Jason a delightfully unobstructed view of his legs, covered in bruises and band-aids from patrol. His hair was sticking up in every direction and he was squinting, eyes not fully open as he wasn’t fully awake, likely not helped by his swollen eyebags. In one hand, he held a dirty coffee mug.
The other, he used to scratch his ass.
He dragged his feet on the floor as he walked forward, not fully in a straight line, but back and forth a bit, too worn out to bother is he bumped into a counter or two.
May you please draw Tim/Duke? 🥹 I see barely enough of them that I’m STARVING 🙏🏼
It can be a drawing, a fix, a rant, I don’t care! Just more Tim x Duke posts pls!!
hello darling <3 I know you said it could be anything, but I really wanted to try drawing them, so here's my shot at that
(and reminder that the reason I'm asking people for asks getting me to draw is bc I need practice; it is not humility that has me calling myself a beginner)
right is the actual photo of the drawing, left is me messing with my camera settings and seeing what happened; I hope you like it
Ohh please give us an excerpt from Tim Independent Vigilante!! That sounds so promising!
thank you !! it's a bit shorter compared to some of my other WIPs, but here you are :D
Tim Drake always started with the facts.
Always did his best to minimize the emotions in any decision he made, so he did what he did best and made a list of the facts so he could properly and impartially decide where to go from there.
Fact One: Jason was dead.
While Tim knew that there was danger in what the Bats did, he thought that they’d make it. That, if nothing else, Batman would protect his kids.
And yet.
Fact Two: Robin was dead, or at the very least, he should be, though Tim would have to be the one to make sure of that. Bruce could adopt all the sons he wanted, but after Jason died, there was no reason he should put a single one of them in that suit.
No reason to put anyone else in danger.
It wasn’t what Jason would have wanted.
Fact Three: Batman was not dead, but if things kept going the way they were, he would be soon.
For the WIP game! "What Time Could Never Heal" please? 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾
ofccc darling here you are <3
Bruce didn’t have a favorite.
He’d been asked a million times and he’d given that answer a million times and it was true.
He didn’t have a favorite. Sure, he treated all his kids differently, but that was because they were all different people. If he started treating one like the other, one might start crying, and the other, shouting.
Bruce loved his children. He loved them more than life itself, but they reminded him so well of everything he tried to forget.
OR
His Robins were many things. Dick was his partner, Jason was his sidekick, Damian was his son, and Tim was an old wound that reopened every time he thought it had healed.
Usually, on sex pollen, there was no begging. No kind questions were asked.
Something was wanted. Something was taken.
Such was the simple reality of it.
It reduced you to what you wanted most and dimmed the part of your brain that told you all the reasons you shouldn’t take it.
Always, on sex pollen, you were out of control. Your actions were not your own. The thoughts in your head were the ones out your mouth and the thoughts in your heart were carried out by your hands.
They had policies in place—a general understanding that, if Ivy was out, you were to patrol with someone you were comfortable with.
And, maybe he shouldn’t have been comfortable with Jason, considering all the times the man had tried to kill him, but he’d gotten over that long before they started dating, and they’d started dating long before Ivy broke out.
Bruce, of course, took the news poorly. While he couldn’t exactly protest the fact that they were best paired for this, he wasn’t happy about it. Then again, that was also his reaction when they started dating, too, and most times when he had to remember the fact.
But, to be fair, Jason took it even worse, protesting this and that about how the Pit was incontrollable and he didn’t know how Ivy or any of her bioweapons would trigger it.
At the very least, Tim figured he could answer that, now.
