#i was so into him from the very start

[itoshi-s]

I swear oikawa has the whole fandom in a choke hold,, noone likes him yet everyone likes to write him, hes the easy guy that fits into all molds needed

YES !!!!!! he’s an all rounder fr lol i think once u get a hang of his character, he’s really fun to write and fits in so many scenarios. but tbf i would rather choke than write him in a non-dc/angsty manner anytime soon 😭 he’s pretty intimidating i won’t lie !!!!!

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[keferon]

Monster hunter au part 9

I wanted to cook a bit more fluff before I get back to drama hehe

Previous Next

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

[sharkylad]

Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.

Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?

Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If the Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.

The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.

Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.

It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.

I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.

He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[puppyeared]

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[s0fter-sin]

soap's whole deal being sniper and demolitions gets me going bc on the surface they sound so different but when you get into it, you realise it's bc soap's smart

sniping is all math; calculating distances and wind interference and bullet drop. something i think people overlook is he was listed as a sniper first so it can be implied that he's better at it than demolitions. he does more sniping in both campaigns than demolitions work; in capture or kill, ghost specifically calls on him to take down the aq snipers

and demolitions is math with a hit of chemistry; knowing what mixes with what, knowing how much to use, recognising environmental factors and adjusting accordingly. it's not just about the boom; so much work goes into contained/ planned explosions. especially when having enough power for a breacher charge and not bringing down the whole building is the difference between mission success and failure

the chemical bombs he makes in alone can't just be any old cleaners, they have to have the correct reaction to each other; he just knew off the top of his head what would mix with what to create what reaction. he would also potentially have to recognise them by sight/smell bc they would’ve been written in spanish

soap would also have to know architecture; recognising structural integrity and weak points so he knows exactly where to plant a charge to bring it down and how it'll come down

he has an incredible soldier's mind people just forget that bc he's sociable which itself is a skill

we know he tends to buck against orders he doesn't agree with like when he pushes back against ghost in capture or kill and shepherd when he tells them to release hassan

he gets closer to people and sees if he can trust them and that's when he follows them without question. really think about how he talks to alejandro and rudy; he asks about their home and alejandro's family and rudy's relationship with him. those aren't questions you ask a stranger after a few hours of knowing them. that's not even touching on his relationship with ghost

he also deliberately brings people of higher ranks down to his level; talking informally with ghost and giving him a shoulder punch, addressing alejandro (a colonel!!) by his first name and rudy by his nickname despite literally just meeting them. he personalises all of them and it’s in direct opposition to the reason most characters do that; it’s not due to insubordination or lack of respect, the more he respects and trusts someone, the more casual he is with them

he digs into people; he wants to know what makes them tick and that determines if he can one, trust them and two, follow their orders. once he decides that, he's the ultimate soldier; he bleeds loyalty which makes him vicious when that loyalty is taken for granted

he isn't naive or bubbly or insecure; he's an incredibly smart and aware soldier. he's aggressive and bloodthirsty and loyal and intuitive and i love him so much

[gunstellations]

In the world I love

_

In a different world

[cup-o-noodlez]

Spirits & Such family company photoshoot

[naamahdarling]

You know what? You know what I think?

I think that if we lived as we were meant to, in larger intimate ("extended family") groups and with more shared labor and time to do it (UBI NOW) people like me would not feel so useless and burdensome because there would be people around to help and to do what neurodivergent people can't while making valuable space for the neurodivergent to do what they ARE good at.

The way we live right now, all right, the way we live right now forces units of two adults to be able to do EVERYTHING or PAY to have someone come do it for them. I have to do the housework. I have to do it! But I am having to do a million different things and most of them I am not good at. I suck at them.

I wouldn't feel like shit, okay, if I had more than one other person around who was not a child and who could do the things I can't, like do the yard and cook and do repairs and basic maintenance; and someone else to split everything else that I like but is too much for me. It would free me to do what I am good at and enjoy. Cleaning, as in the sink and toilet, the windows, the blinds. Taking out trash. Folding, hanging, and sorting laundry.

But because all the shit I can do often relies on other shit being done first, and I can't do or have trouble doing those things, the shit I can do often can't be done. And even the shit I can do, I can't do ALL of it. So I can't keep up, and things get very bad.

We aren't meant to live like this. We are not meant to live like this.

That thought hurts so much because being able to flee the birth family is integral to survival for so many people. I'm so afraid that living in larger family groups would create more opportunities for, say, queer kids to be isolated, rejected, bullied, and abused. But if we gave people enough money to survive, and stopped considering children the property of their parents with no system in place to help them escape bad situations except a system that is often just as bad, just different.

I'm aware that communes and collectives aren't all that successful and are kind of a joke. I don't mean that. I mean a fundamental shift to multigenerational families where taking in "strays" (which my family did) is also normalized so people escaping abuse into existing households was accepted, with these families centered in maybe a couple of different larger residences so not everyone has to buy and maintain their own fucking washing machine and vacuum cleaner, and so people can benefit from large group meals that yield leftovers, and so child and elder care can also be centralized.

Then disabled people and the neurodivergent and sick and injured people, and pregnant people, and grieving people, would not have to either labor through all those stressors or consign themselves to living off an unlivable pittance or being put under legal guardianship.

I'm not saying anything new. People live like this in other parts of the world and maybe it sucks and I am wrong. But I'm just really mad right now because I can either do laundry or clean the sink but not both, and I really think we could improve society somewhat by making it so I did not have to choose one without sacrificing the other.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 3 - Sora

[bacchuschucklefuck]

okay unironically I love so much that porter is like this world SUCKS its BAD here and it HURTS you why do you care abt it!!! and literally every single bad kid is like ngl we just hate ur ass it does not matter what ur philosophy is

[aterfish]

"And they don't know how much they’ll miss At least until you're gone like this"

other version under cut

and a closeup for his ID:

[luxaofhesperides]

I'm not sure if you're still taking Ghostlights requests, but if you are: Dick asking Duke to take Haley to the dog park for him in order to set up a meet-cute for him with the guy with the weird green rottweiler

And if you aren't, just know that you're doing great and I appreciate the hell out of you

“Oh, shoot!” 

Hearing Dick rush around as a frantic mess is not uncommon while he’s in Gotham. There’s too many people wanting to spend time with him that he ends up pulled in a bunch of different directions. Dick’s always in a rush, always busy, always making time for people because he has more love than Duke has ever seen in a person.

Dick’s also got pretty good time management skills after years of doing this. He’s only cutting out a few minutes early for their designated three hour catch-up session. 

That doesn’t mean he’s going to do it gracefully, though.

“Almost lost track of the time!” he says, moving to the couch to pick up his jacket. “Hey, Duke, can do you me a favor while I’m out?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you take Haley to the dog park? I usually take her twice a week around this time, but I totally forgot to include that in my calendar this week so I’ve got plans with the Titans just outside the city, and no time to take her out.”

“Yeah, man, of course I can take her to the dog park. The one attached to Robinson Park, right?”

Dick nods, shoving his shoes onto his feet. “That’s the one! Her treats are also in the bag hanging next to her leash. Oh, and she has a friend at the dog park! Don’t be scared when you see him, he’s just green.”

“Oh…kay?”

“Great, thanks! Bye, Duke, I’ll see you later!”

And with that, Dick is gone, closing the door to his safehouse as he dashes into the hall. 

Duke is left alone in Dick’s Gotham safehouse, blinking dazedly at the empty space where he once was. He’s certainly a whirlwind of activity when he realizes he’s going to be late. He’s also skilled in just saying things and leaving before any questions can be answered.

Haly jumps up onto the couch next to Duke. They share a look, then Duke shakes his head. “You have to deal with that every day, huh?”

Haly, the good girl that she is, doesn’t say anything bad against her owner and just puts a paw on Duke’s thigh, her tail wagging. 

“I hear ya, girl. Let’s go to the dog park to meet your green friend,  I guess.”

He has no idea what that means, honestly. Is Dick just talking about a dog that got its fur dyed green? Or is Haly’s friend like… a mutant dog? 

Well, he’s not going to find out by stalling. 

Duke pets Haly, then stands up and walks to the door. Her head perks up as soon as she hears the jangle of her leash being moved, and then she’s running to the door, looking up at him expectantly. Smiling, Duke slips the harness onto her, then attached it to the leash. He gives her another quick pet before shoving on his shoes and grabbing her bag of treats and waste disposal bags. 

He double checks that he has his phone, then takes hold of Dick’s spare safehouse key and steps out into the hallway with Haly. She waits patiently as he locks the door, checks that the lock holds, then runs down the hallway, ripping the leash right out of his hands.

“Haly! Wait! Stop, girl!”

She happily ignores him and goes straight for the elevator, leaving him to run after her and quickly scoop up the leash as soon as he’s close enough.

“Of course you’re a little escape artists,” he says to her, “Just like your owner.”

Haly woofs softly, then stands up and scratches at the doors of the elevator. Shaking his head, amused, Duke pushes the button to call the elevator and wonders if Dick has to deal with this every time they go to the dog park. 

On one hand, it wouldn’t surprise him since Dick is absolutely the kind of guy to give in to his dog’s every whims and spoil her rotten. On the other hand, Duke fully believes that Haly is smart enough and cute enough to misbehave only when Dick isn’t around so he never believes people when they try to tell him about all the mischief she’s caused. 

Dogs and their owners really do reflect one another. The internet was right about that.

Duke makes sure to keep a tight grip on Haly’s leash once they leave the apartment building. The streets are busy, as they tend to be on weekends, and the sight of Haly straining against her leash, ready to run, brings a smile to more than one face. 

He plots the route to the dog park in his mind, then starts up a light jog, tugging lightly on the leash to prompt Haly to follow him. 

It’s nice to run just for the sake of it. Haly makes a good running partner as well. 

How long has it been since Duke had time to relax and not be prepared for the worst? All the running he usually does these days is to catch up with criminals or run for his life. Being out during the day, moving through the city, without any lives in danger? Genuinely nice and relaxing. 

Maybe he can offer to take Haly to the dog park from now on. Join Dick whenever he goes. Create a set few hours where he doesn’t do anything but enjoy being outside in one of the few places where the smog of pollution and chemical toxins isn’t so thick in the air. 

He’ll just have to make sure Dick doesn’t agree to something else during those days. It’s still strange to think that Dick could forget to do something involving Haly when he’s such a good dog owner and a pro at juggling various responsibilities and a busy schedule. 

Well, they all have off days. This must be one of Dick’s.

The sidewalks get wider once they reach the street that leads to the park. Families fill up the space, walking with strollers in front of them or lined up at a food cart. The vivid green of spring fills the grassy fields that lead to the large patches of trees, marking the edge of Poison Ivy’s territory. Clovers decorate the ground, bees moving from flower to flower. 

There are other dogs on walks as well, making circuits around the park or running after toys. Duke spots a cat in a walking harness as well and wonders if he can convince Damian to get one for Alfred the cat. 

The dog park is on the other end of the park, as far away from Ivy’s territory as possible. The fenced off areas are separated into big dogs and small dogs, with a helpful guide as to which dogs go where posted at the entrance. 

Duke slows to a walk, breathing deeply to help settle his heart rate back down to something normal. Haly walks by his side, tail wagging, as she watches the other dogs run back and forth behind the fence. 

She’s still small, just growing out of puppy size, so Duke leads her into the small dog area, carefully making sure the gate doesn’t open enough for any quick dogs to make a break for it. He walks over to a bench and sits down before undoing the harness on her, setting her loose. 

Haly licks his hand once, then darts away, barking lightly as she joins the other dogs tumbling around each other. 

Amused, Duke leans back at watches as the other dogs sniff her, then do their funny little bowing stomps, moving back and forth before running off so she can give chase. 

He figures staying for an hour will be good enough. That should get the most of her energy out, and then they can make the long trek back to Dick’s safehouse so he can pick her up before he heads back to Bludhaven. Pulling out his phone, Duke settles in to wait, keeping half his attention on Haly just in case any of the other dogs decide to get a little too rough.

The first twenty minutes pass peacefully. Haly runs around and the owners of the other dogs give her pets when she runs up to them. One even went over to Duke to offer him a pack of fruit gummies. 

Then a loud bark fills the air and Duke jerks upright, watching with wide eyes as a colossally large dog, green and glowing and slightly transparent, comes barrelling down the street, headed right towards them. 

He doesn’t have time to yell Haly’s name before the dog is in the fence. None of the other dog owners look alarmed, though, so he watches carefully, prepared to jump up and save Haly at a moment’s notice.

“Cujo!” someone yells from down the street. A guy with dark hair comes running up and smoothly jumps over the fence. “Cujo, how many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that?”

The green dog, apparently Cujo, barks happily.

“And you’re too big for this park right now, buddy. Shrink, boy. It’s time to be small.”

And then Cujo… obeys? The dog shrinks, and instead of being the size of a bus, it’s now small enough to be carried in someone’s arms. 

Green dog is not enough warning for all of that. Dick owes him so much for this.

Actually, he’s kind of shocked that Dick never mentioned this to anyone. Surely a giant green dog would get people’s attention. Why is this the first time he’s heard about it?

“You new around here?” someone asks, and Duke turns to see the person who gave him the fruit gummies.

“Kinda? It’s my first time coming to the dog park. I’m looking after Haly, that one right over there.” He points out Haly, who is running in circles around Cujo.

“Ah, I see. Dick mentioned someone new would be coming today.”

Duke narrows his eyes. He’s starting to get the feeling that he’s been set up for something, but he’s not sure what. 

“I’ll give you the spiel we tell all newcomers, in that case,” they continue. “Cujo is a ghost dog. Poor thing died during some animal testing, far as we know. Danny looks after him, since Cujo got attached to the kid years ago before he moved to Gotham. He’s a kind one, but very nervous, and we’ve all got an agreement to keep quiet about him and Cujo round this parts. You better be holding your tongue, as well, ya hear me?”

“Sure thing,” Duke nods. “My lips are sealed.”

He’ll just ask Dick about the ghost dog situation and do his own investigation if needed. But Cujo is just a dog, and his owner is just a guy. Nothing threatening, nothing requiring a Bat’s attention.

“Good,” they nod. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” They’re gone before Duke can reply, adjusting the hat on their head as they head back to their group in the back left corner of the dog park. 

Satisfied that things are under control, Duke relaxes back into the bench, watching Haly and Cujo tumble around with the other dogs, barking happily. Haly’s still growing into her paws, so she trips and falls often, but gets up without a moments pause, ready to keep playing.

From the corner of his eyes, Duke catches sight of someone walking towards him. 

He looks over and finds Cujo’s owner—Danny, wasn’t it?—approaching. Their eyes meet, and Danny offers him a sheepish smile and a wave. His eyes are a dark blue that seem to glow with some otherworldly light, and Duke can swear he sees something shifting around him, as if the air has turned visible and twists around his body like wisps of smoke. 

“Mind if I sit with you?” Danny asks, and Duke moves to the side a bit.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“You’re Duke, right? Dick told me about you last week.”

It’s looking more and more like Dick is up to something, and Duke will need to get his revenge. “Did he? All good things, I hope.”

“Aha, yeah, all good things. Um, actually I think I should apologize? I maybe said you sounded like my type so Dick promised that he’d get you here somehow. Sorry if this is messing up your plans for the day.”

Oh. Oh! 

Well. That’s interesting. 

Duke quietly shelves his plans for revenge against Dick and takes a proper look at Danny. He’s shy, but with a bright smile, glowing eyes and strange smoke curling around him still, and messy black hair windswept from chasing after Cujo. There’s a flush in his cheeks and his long fingers fiddle with the string of his dark red hoodie. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t have any plans today. This is way better than just sleeping all day.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Danny laughs, “There’s nothing I like more than being able to sleep all day. That would fix me for sure.”

There’s a loud bark, and Danny’s eyes snap back to Cujo, who is growing bigger. “Cujo!” Danny yells, voice sharp. “Shrink down, or we go home.”

Cujo grumbles, whines, then goes back to being little. The green dog only has a moment to look sad before Haly is tackling him, sending them back into another chase around the park. 

“Sorry about that,” Danny says, slouching against the bench. 

“It’s all good,” Duke replies. “So. I’m your type, huh?”

Danny’s cheeks turn a deep, charming red. He looks away, then nods and ducks his head down. 

“And that hasn’t changed after meeting me?”

Danny shakes his head, then peeks over at Duke, gaze slowly moving up his body until he meets Duke’s eyes. “Definitely hasn’t changed,” he says.

Now it’s Duke’s turn to feel his cheeks burn, flustered and pleasantly surprised by Danny’s boldness. It doesn’t help that Danny is cute, someone he can see himself falling for. 

“Good,” he says, then knocks his knee against Danny’s. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more. On one condition.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Tell me what Dick told you about me. I wanna make sure he wasn’t sharing an embarrassing stories about me. If I’m gonna make a fool of myself, then I’ll do it myself with no outside help.”

Danny’s laugh is bright and warm and sends butterflies dancing in Duke’s stomach. “Fair enough!” he says. “And you know what? I’ll trade you for embarrassing stories. Trust me, I have so many. Nothing you’ve done can be worse that the dumb shit I do on a regular basis.”

“Woah, woah, woah, confident, aren’t we? Don’t say that until you’ve heard about some of the stupid situation I choose to throw myself into.”

“Please, I’m an younger brother. If anyone knows how to be stupid, it’s me.”

“I’m part of the disaster that is the Wayne family. I think that has you beat.”

“My parents are mad scientists and my dog is a ghost. Try again.” The teasing smile on Danny’s lips makes him want to be reckless, to keep pushing, to go down this path as far as he can.  Duke can’t remember the last time he clicked with someone so instantly, to be so comfortable with them so soon. 

Damn. He’s gonna have to thank Dick for this, isn’t he?

As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Duke pulls it out with an apologetic smile to Danny, who leans back a bit to give him some privacy.

The text that pops up is from Dick. It’s a photo of him and Danny from the side, heads bent close together as they talk with bright smiles. He can just make out the wild red curls of Kori’s hair. 

“I’m gonna put jello in his socks,” Duke says cheerfully, already looking around to find where Dick is hiding. 

He probably already moved locations, the ass. 

“What’s up?” 

He holds out his phone so Danny can see the screen. Danny stares at it, then looks around, then stares at the screen again. 

“...Is he watching us?”

“Yep.”

“...Should we do something about it?”

Duke shrugs. “I mean, I’m up for hunting him down and tackling him if you are.”

“I can do you one better,” Danny says with a sharp grin. He whistles, and Cujo comes running over, Haly at his heels, and he skids to a stop to sit before Danny. “Cujo. You remember Dick?” Cujo barks, as if answering. “Fetch! Go fetch Dick!”

Cujo jumps to his feet, grows from the size of a pug to a bear, and takes off for the art instillation farther into Robinson Park. Moments later, they hear a yell followed by loud laughter, and Cujo and running back, Dick hanging from his mouth, with Kori, Donna, and Roy following after him at a leisurely stroll. 

“I think we’re gonna get along great,” Duke says. “He’s gonna wish he never set us up.”

“That’s the way to do it,” Danny agrees.

“Say, wanna grab lunch together tomorrow?”

Danny blinks, then blushes again. “What, like a date?”

“Yeah, as a date. You up for it?”

“How could I say no? I was promised embarrassing stories.”

He watches as Cujo drops a rumpled looking Dick to the ground, half his shirt soaked with saliva. He dramatically mimes being shot in the heart when he sees them both looking at him, and goes limp when Kori picks him up and tries to set him on his feet. 

Then he tries to act very calm and cool as Danny leans against him. “Think he’s gonna follow up on our date?” Danny asks in a low voice.

Duke closes his eyes and tries not to despair. He didn’t even think of that. “Worse. He’s going to tell everyone else, then we’ll have every available Wayne kid stalking us on our date.”

“Guess I’ll have to rely on you to chase them off, huh?”

“Or we can sic Cujo on them again.”

“Or that,” Danny nods. “It’s always effective.”

He’s really going to have to bring his best to the date tomorrow, just to stay a step ahead of everyone else. Maybe he’ll ask Barbara for a favor and get her to lead them off? And if Bruce gets involved, then Duke is fully prepared to flashbang him, grab Danny, and run. 

It’s going to be a disaster.

It’s going to be fun.

He’s already looking forward to it, and from the mischievous smile on Danny’s face, he’s not the only one.