??

[what-even-is-thiss]

When I was a teenager I had a phase where I called soccer football because the rest of the world called it that but eventually my dad told me “You know, there’s a point where acting smart doesn’t make you smart and just makes you annoying. Refusing to use the word that everyone else around you uses doesn’t make you smarter than them.”

So anyways I call it soccer now.

[imzemo]

I typically refer to American football as egg shaped hand ball

[what-even-is-thiss]

What kind of eggs have you been using

[imzemo]

[papayafromtv]

CONVERSATIONS OVERHEARD THROUGH THE BATKID COM LINES MASTERPOST (ENTRIES 1-60)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 (league days) part 8 (league days) part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 (league days) part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 (league days) part 22 part 23 part 24 (league days) part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29 part 30

part 31 part 32 part 33 part 34 part 35 part 36 (league days) (part 1) part 37 (league days) (part 2) part 38 part 39 (part 1) part 40 (part 2) part 41 part 42 part 43 part 44 part 45 part 46 part 47 part 48 part 49 part 50 part 51 part 52 part 53 part 54 part 55 part 56 part 57 part 58 part 59 part 60 (part 1)

(ENTRIES 61-?? HERE)

[papayafromtv]

scenarios Alfred Pennyworth has to be a witness to as a resident of Wayne Manor that the batkids have absolutely no shame in front of whatsoever part 19 (masterpost here)

Alfred, folding laundry by himself: *humming softly*

Jason, walking by with his phone pressed to his ear: yeah- its gotta be hardcore though man, don't you pussy out on me. i wanna be fully knocked out, chloroformed and incapable of saving myself. this has to seem unplanned and violent to the max so i don't get yelled at.

Alfred: *slowly looks over at him*

Jason:, still on the phone: uh-huh- yeah, yea- i don't care if it's poison, as long as it doesn't kill me permanently then it's fine.

*notices Alfred and covers phone with his hand*

Jason, whispering: hey, psst! Alfie, do we have any more of those blueberry muffins you made?

Alfred, baffled, slightly concerned: ...i...believe there may be a few in the kitchen? if your brothers haven't polished them off in the night, that is.

Jason: perfect, thank you. *into the phone* yo, Eddie, you want me to bring you a muffin when we do this?

Alfred: *weighing the pros and cons of asking*

Alfred: ... *heavy sigh*

Alfred: who are you talking to?

Jason, glancing over again: hm? oh- just the Riddler.

Alfred:

Jason, unbothered: yeah B is trying to force me to attend some stupid benefit tonight and won't let me duck out, so i'm gonna get Riddler to show up and kidnap me before we go in.

Alfred, already resigned: didn't your father explicitly tell you all that faking kidnappings to get out of social events would go sorely punished from now on?

Jason, smugly holding up a finger: ah! you see, he said that about when we kidnap each other. nobody's had the balls to get a real rogue to do it, so he won't suspect i'm faking it. *into the phone, pointedly* not if Riddler mans-up and stops trying to treat me like i'm still Robin, anyway.

Alfred: ...and you think this is a safe idea? to hand yourself over to a criminal in such a manner?

Jason: meh. Nygma's always had a soft spot for us Robins, i'll be fine.

Alfred: and what makes you think i won't alert your father to these irresponsible plans?

Jason: *laughs loudly* yeah- yeah right, because you're a snitch, are you? c'mon Alfie, we know you better than that.

Jason: *continues to laugh as he leaves the room*

Alfred:

Alfred:

Alfred: i have been around these people for far too long.

[conarcoin]

don’t sign up for protests, don’t talk about going to protests on social media, don’t text people about going to protests, leave your phone at home. wear a mask. leave no personally identifiable information.

[conarcoin]

and watch out for undercover cops

[conarcoin]

read this https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/black-flag-catalyst-the-black-flag-catalyst-protest-guide-v1-2

The Black Flag Catalyst Protest Guide v1.2

Black Flag Catalyst The Black Flag Catalyst Protest Guide v1.2 2020

and here’s some more basic information

[conarcoin]

(don’t take your phone period, unless it’s a burner)

[conarcoin]

[papayafromtv]

au where Jason is the one to deliver Damian to Bruce but he and Damian get into an argument on the drive over about how good at stealth missions Damian is and it ends in Jason double-dog daring him to skip the whole 'introduction' aspect of going to live with Bruce and instead to just sneak into the manor and see how long he can go unnoticed for.

Damian's claim is that the manor is so big and Damian's so good at remaining hidden that he could live in the manor without anybody else there clocking him easy. Jason just wants to see how long he can actually go because in his mind the longer Bruce goes without realising he has Damian in the house, the funnier the reveal will be. he's actually kinda rooting for Damian purely because it's funnier if he pulls it off for a really long time first. then Jason can snitch on him and the fall-out will be glorious.

he lasts about four months.

two weeks in and Alfred becomes suspicious, but chooses to believe that it's raccoons or pigeons in the attic because then he doesn't have to get involved. and he really doesn't want to get involved.

a month in and Damian almost gets caught by Tim while trying to steal some food in the middle of the night and getting cornered in the kitchen, but Tim hadn't slept in three days and was high on cold medicine at the time so he assumed that Damian was actually a hallucination of Bruce as a child, and all he did was stare Damian directly in the eye and solemnly tell him 'never ask your parents to go see a movie with you.' before going to pass out in the study.

two months in and Damian has gotten into a rhythm with it. feeling unchallenged, he starts waiting for Bruce to fall asleep in front of the batcomputer during hard cases so he can sneak out from the walls and fix whatever Bruce is getting wrong and solving the case before he wakes up.

three months in and Dick runs into him while sneaking in through a side door so he can grab some stuff from his bedroom without having to talk to Bruce, but Damian bullshits that he's one of Tim's school friends visiting to complete a school project, and Dick gives him twenty dollars to promise that he won't tell anybody Dick is in the building.

four months in and he gets cocky; starts ordering packages to the manor addressed to himself. Alfred asks Bruce at the dinner table why they've received an amazon package for 'Damian Wayne' and nobody knows what the fuck he's talking about. the next night the Red Hood snitches and asks how 'Damian's doing' and Bruce becomes convinced that Hood has the manor bugged. demands a full sweep of the building. Tim comes across Damian napping in a hammock in the attic wearing Tim's presumed-lost clothes next to a pile of supremely confidential files stolen from the batcave.

Damian wakes up and promptly tells them all that they aren't allowed to be mad because the statute of limitations for breaking and entering has passed already. Jason laughs so hard he cries.

[libraford]

Googled something about quick hydration and it suggested big jug of water, couple tbsp pickle juice, dash of lime juice.

Its surprisingly tasty????

[libraford]

Pleased to report that after a day of this i am not longer craving caper brine and my mouth is not dry as usual. There's some good suggestions in the notes too that I want to try.

-ancient roman posca: water, red or white wine vinegar, honey, salt, herbs (coriander, mint, thyme)

-switchel: water, ginger, vinegar, sweetener, lemon, salt

-ayran: yogurt, water, salt, mint

-Agua pepino: water, cucumbers, lime, sugar, optional mint.

[libraford]

I have been reminded of:

-shrub: vinegar, sida water, elderberry (or other berry), sugar.

[libraford]

I have now been informed of

-sekanjabin: honey, vinegar, mint, water.

[libraford]

"Wow, I wonder why this post was popular this week."

-sees the reports of the heatwave in Europe-

"... ah."

[writing-prompt-s]

An old and homely grandmother accidentally summons a demon. She mistakes him for her gothic-phase teenage grandson and takes care of him. The demon decides to stay at his new home.

[eatbreathewrite]

It isn’t uncommon for this particular demon to be summoned—from exhausting Halloween party pranks in abandoned barns to more legitimate (more exhausting) ceremonies in forests—but it has to admit, this is the first time it’s been called forth from its realm into a claustrophobic living room bathed in the dull orange-pink glow of old glass lamps and a multitude of wide-eyed, creepy antique porcelain dolls that could give Chucky a run for his money with all of their silent, seething stares combined. Accompanying those oddities are tea cup and saucer sets on shelves atop frilly doilies crocheted with the utmost care, and cross-stitched, colorful ‘Home Sweet Home’s hung across the wood-paneled walls.

It’s a mistake—a wrong number, per se. No witch it’s ever known has lived in such an, ah, dated, home. Furthermore, no practitioner that ever summoned it has been absent, as if they’d up and ding-dong ditched it. No, it didn’t work that way. Not at all. Not if they want to survive the encounter.

It hears the clinking of movement in the room adjacent—the kitchen, going by the pungent, bitter scent of cooled coffee and soggy, sweet sponge cakes, but more jarring is the smell of blood. It moves—feels something slip beneath its clawed foot as it does, and sees a crocheted blanket of whites and greys and deep black yarn, wound intricately, perfectly, into a summoning circle. Its summoning circle. There is a small splash of bright scarlet and sharp, jagged bits of a broken curio scattered on top, as if someone had dropped it, attempted to pick it up the pieces and pricked their finger. It would explain the blood. And it would explain the demon being brought into this strange place.

As it connects these pieces in its mind, the inhabitant of the house rounds the corner and exits the kitchen, holding a damp, white dish towel close to her hand and fumbling with the beaded bifocals hanging from her neck by a crocheted lanyard before stopping dead in her tracks.

Now, to be fair, the demon wouldn’t ordinarily second guess being face-to-face with a hunchbacked crone with a beaked nose, beady eyes and a peculiar lack of teeth, or a spidery shawl and ankle-length black dress, but there is definitely something amiss here. Especially when the old biddy lets her spectacles fall slack on her bosom and erupts into a wide, toothy (toothless) grin, eyes squinting and crinkling from the sheer effort of it.

“Todd! Todd, dear, I didn’t know you were visiting this year! You didn’t call, you didn’t write—but, oh, I’m so happy you’re here, dear! Would it have been too much to ask you to ring the doorbell? I almost had a heart attack. And don’t worry about the blood, here—I had an accident. My favorite figure toppled off of the table and cleanup didn’t go as expected. But I seem to recall you are quite into the bloodshed and ‘edgy’ stuff these days, so I don’t suppose you mind.” She releases a hearty, kind laugh, but it isn’t mocking, it’s sweet. Grandmotherly. The demon is by no means sentimental or maudlin, but the kindness, the familiarity, the genuine fondness, does pull a few dusty old nostalgic heartstrings. “Imagine if it leaves a scar! It’d be a bit ‘badass,’ as you teenagers say, wouldn’t it?”

She is as blind as a bat without her glasses, it would appear, because the demon is by no means a ‘Todd’ or a human at all, though humanoid, shrouded in sleek, black skin and hard spikes and sharp claws. But the demon humors her, if only because it had been caught off guard.

The old woman smiles still, before turning on her heel and shuffling into the hallway with a stiff gait revealing a poor hip. “Be a dear and make some more coffee, would you please? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Yes, this is most definitely a mistake. One for the record books, for certain. For late-night trips to bars and conversations with colleagues, while others discuss how many souls they’d swindled in exchange for peanuts, or how many first-borns they’d been pledged for things idiot humans could have gained without divine intervention. Ugh. Sometimes it all just became so pedantic that little detours like this were a blessing—happy accidents, as the humans would say.

That’s why the demon does as asked, and plods slowly into the kitchen, careful to duck low and avoid the top of the doorframe. That’s why it gingerly takes the small glass pot and empties it of old, stale coffee and carefully, so carefully, takes a measuring scoop between its claws and fills the machine with fresh grounds. It’s as the hot water is percolating that the old woman returns, her index finger wrapped tight in a series of beige bandages.

“I’m surprised you’re so tall, Todd! I haven’t seen you since you were at my hip! But your mother mails photos all the time—you do love wearing all black, don’t you?” She takes a seat at the small round table in the corner and taps the glass lid of the cake plate with quaking, unsteady, aged hands. “I was starting to think you’d never visit. Your father and I have had our disagreements, but…I am glad you’re here, dear. Would you like some cake?” Before the demon has a chance to decline, she lifts the lid and cuts a generous slice from the near-complete circle that has scarcely been touched. It smells of citrus and cream and is, as assumed earlier, soggy, oversaturated with icing.

It was made for a special occasion, for guests, but it doesn’t seem this old woman receives much company in this musty, stagnant house that smells like an antique garage that hadn’t had its dust stirred in years.

Especially not from her absentee grandson, Todd.

The demon waits until the coffee pot is full, and takes two small mugs from the counter, filling them until steam is frothing over the rims. Then, and only then, does it accept the cake and sit, with some difficulty, in a small chair at the small table. It warbles out a polite ‘thank you,’ but it doesn’t suppose the woman understands. Manners are manners regardless.

“Oh, dear, I can hardly understand. Your voice has gotten so deep, just like your grandfather’s was. That, and I do recall you have an affinity for that gravelly, screaming music. Did your voice get strained? It’s alright, dear, I’ll do the talking. You just rest up. The coffee will help soothe.”

The demon merely nods—some communication can be understood without fail—and drinks the coffee and eats the cake with a too-small fork. It’s ordinary, mushy, but delicious because of the intent behind it and the love that must have gone into its creation.

“I hope you enjoyed all of the presents I sent you. You never write back—but I am aware most people use that fancy E-mail these days. I just can’t wrap my head around it. I do wish your mom and dad would visit sometime. I know of a wonderful little café down the street we can go to. I haven’t been; I wanted to visit it with Charles, before he…well.” She falls silent in her rambling, staring into her coffee with a small, melancholy smile. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years. You never had the chance to meet him. But never mind that.” Suddenly, and with surprising speed that has the demon concerned for her well being, she moves to her feet, bracing her hands on the edge of the table. “I may as well give you your birthday present, since you’re here. What timing! I only finished it this morning. I’ll be right back.”

When she returns, the white, grey and black crocheted work with the summoning circle is bundled in her arms.  

“I found these designs in an occult book I borrowed from the library. I thought you’d like them on a nice, warm blanket to fight off the winter chill—I hope you do like it.” With gentle hands, she spreads the blanket over the demon’s broad, spiky back like a shawl, smoothing it over craggy shoulders and patting its arms affectionately. “Happy birthday, Todd, dear.”

Well, that settles it. Whoever, wherever, Todd is, he’s clearly missing out. The demon will just have to be her grandson from now on.

[voidbat]

this is so sweet. it made me want to hug someone.

[bigmammallama5]

i had to

[geniusorinsanity]

I WOULD WATCH SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE

[rocky-horror-shit-show]

Okay but she takes him to the little cafe and all of the people in her town are like “What is that thing, what the hell, Anette?” and she’s like “Don’t you remember my grandson Todd?” and the entire town just has to play along because no one will tell little old Nettie that her grandson is an actual demon because this is the happiest she’s been since her husband died.

Bonus: In season 4 she makes him run for mayor and he wins

[silvermoonphantom]

I just want to watch ‘Todd’ help her with groceries, and help her with cooking, and help her clean up the dust around the house and air it out, and fill it with spring flowers because Anette mentioned she loved hyacinth and daffodils.   Over the seasons her eyesight worsens, so ‘Todd’ brings a hellhound into the house to act as her seeing eye dog, and people in town are kinda terrified of this massive black brute with fur that drips like thick oil, and a mouth that can open all the way back to its chest, but ‘Honey’ likes her hard candies, and doesn’t get oil on the carpet, and when ‘Todd’ has to go back to Hell for errands, Honey will snuggle up to Anette and rest his giant head on her lap, and whuff at her pockets for butterscotch.  Anette never gives ‘Todd’ her soul, but she gives him her heart

[wickedwitchofthewifi-deactivate]

In season six, Anette gets sick. She spends most of the season bedridden and it becomes obvious by about midway through the season that she’s not going to make it to the end of the season. Todd spends the season travelling back and forth between the human realm and his home plane, trying hard to find something, anything that will help Anette get better, to prolong her life. He’s tried getting her to sell him her soul, but she’s just laughed, told him that he shouldn’t talk like that. With only a few episodes left in the season Anette passes away, Todd is by her side. When the reaper comes for her Todd asks about the fate of her soul. In a dispassionate voice the reaper informs Todd that Anette spent the last few years of her life cavorting with creatures of darkness, that there can be only one fate for her. Todd refuses to accept this and he fights the reaper, eventually injuring the creature and driving it off. Knowing that Anette cannot stay in the Human Realm, and refusing to allow her spirit to be taken by another reaper, so he takes her soul in his arms. He’s done this before, when mortals have sold themselves to him. This time the soul cradled against his chest does not snuggle and fight. This time the soul held tight against him reaches out, pats him on the cheek tells him he was a good boy, and so handsome, just like his grandfather.  Todd takes Anette back to the demon realm, holding her tight against him as he travels across the bleak and forebidding landscape; such a sharp contrast to the rosy warmth of Anette’s home. Eventually, in a far corner of his home plane, Todd finds what he is looking for. It is a place where other demons do not tread; a large boulder cracked and broken, with a gap just barely large enough for Todd to fit through. This crack, of all things, gives him pause, but Anette’s soul makes a comment about needing to get home in time to feed Honey, and Todd forces himself to pass through it. He travels in darkness for a while, before he emerges into into a light so bright that it’s blinding. His eyes adjust slowly, and he finds himself face to face with two creatures, each of them at least twice his size one of them has six wings and the head of a lion, one of them is an amorphous creature within several rings. The lion-headed one snarls at Todd, and demands that he turn back, that he has no business here.  Todd looks down, holding Anette’s soul against his chest, he takes a deep breath, and speaks a single word, “Please.” The two larger beings are taken aback by this. They are too used to Todd’s kind being belligerent, they consult with each other, they argue. The amorphous one seems to want to be lenient, the lion-headed one insists on being stricter. While they’re arguing Todd sneaks by them and runs as fast as he can, deeper into the brightly lit expanse. The path on which he travels begins to slope upwards, and eventually becomes a staircase. It becomes evident that each step further up the stair is more and more difficult for Todd, that it’s physically paining him to climb these stairs, but he keeps going.

They dedicate a full episode to this climb; interspersing the climb with scenes they weren’t able to show in previous seasons, Anette and Honey coming to visit Todd in the Mayor’s office, Anette and Todd playing bingo together for the first time, Anette and Todd watching their stories together in the mid afternoon, Anette falling asleep in her chair and Todd gently carrying her to bed. Anette making Todd lemonade in the summer while he’s up on the roof fixing that leak and cleaning out the rain gutters. Eventually Todd reaches the top, and all but collapses, he falls to a knee and for the first time his grip on Anette’s soul slips, and she falls away from him. Landing on the ground. He reaches out for her, but someone gets there first. Another hand reaches out, and helps this elderly woman off the ground, helps her get to her feet. Anette gasps, it’s Charles. The pair of them throw their arms around each other. Anette tells Charles that she’s missed him so much, and she has so much to tell him. Charles nods. Todd watches a soft smile on his face. A delicate hand touches Todd’s shoulder, and pulls him easily to his feet. A figure; we never see exactly what it looks like, leans down, whispering in Todd’s ear that he’s done well, and that Anette will be well taken care of here. That she will spend an eternity with her loved ones. Todd looks back over to her, she’s surrounded by a sea of people. Todd nods, and smiles. The figure behind him tells him that while he has done good in bringing Anette here, this is not his place, and he must leave. Todd nods, he knew this would be the case. Todd gets about six steps down the stairway before he is stopped by someone grabbing his shoulder again. He turns around, and Anette is standing behind him. She gives him a big hug and leads him back up the stairs, he should stay, she says. Get to know the family. Todd tries to tell her that he can’t stay, but she won’t hear it. She leads him up into the crowd of people and begins introducing him to long dead relatives of hers, all of whom give him skeptical looks when she introduces him as her grandson. The mysterious figure appears next to Todd again and tells him once more he must leave, Todd opens his mouth to answer but Anette cuts him off. Nonsense, she tells the figure. IF she’s gonna stay here forever her grandson will be welcome to visit her. She and the figure stare at each other for a moment. The figure eventually sighs and looks away, the figure asks Todd if she’s always like this. Todd just shrugs and smiles, allowing Anette to lead him through a pair of pearly gates, she’s already talking about how much cake they’ll need to feed all of these relatives. 

[captaintinymite]

[gilajames]

P.S. Honey is a Good Dog and gets to go, too.

[kaijufluffs]

[jumpingjacktrash]

the last lines of the show:

demon: you’re not blind here – but you’re not surprised. when…?

anette: oh, toddy, don’t be silly, my biological grandson’s not twelve feet tall and doesn’t scorch the furniture when he sneezes. i’ve known for ages.

demon: then why?

anette: you wouldn’t have stayed if you weren’t lonely too.

demon: you… you don’t have to keep calling me your grandson.

anette: nonsense! adopted children are just as real. now quit sniffling, you silly boy, and let’s go bake a cake. honey, heel!

honey: W̝̽̂̿͂͝Ọ̮̹̲̪̋ͦͅO̸̘͔̬͊F̜̫͙̟͕͖̙̋ͫ͌͗

[literary-sparks]

“Why don’t you use ai” idk man beyond the obvious environmental and “this machine causes psychosis and encourages people to kill themselves” thing I think asking the equivalent of a solid D student who is also a pathological liar if they can answer my question/do the work for me seems pretty fucking stupid

[nihilisticlinguistics]

adulthood notes:

The Rodeo Rule: you only have to do it for the first time once.

The Rohan Rule: if you are at a social function full of new people and you want to be liked, find someone doing important work like setup or food prep and offer to help.

The Tutorial Mode Rule: to navigate an unfamiliar situation where you fear you will mess up an interaction, preface the interaction by mentioning that you've never done this before, and let them know if you have a specific concern or question.

The Rocket Science Rule: most new things you want to try seem very complicated but are simple when taken step by step.

The [X] Will Remember That Rule: if you need to make small talk with the same person on a regular basis, try to save one fact or current event in their life from a given conversation and bring it up next time you talk.

The Cool Binder Rule: by wearing clothes and accessories that are to your taste instead of trying to blend in, people will be more likely to compliment you and show interest in you as a person.

[the-haiku-bot]

The Rodeo Rule:

you only have to do it

for the first time once.

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[what-even-is-thiss]

When I was a teenager I had a phase where I called soccer football because the rest of the world called it that but eventually my dad told me “You know, there’s a point where acting smart doesn’t make you smart and just makes you annoying. Refusing to use the word that everyone else around you uses doesn’t make you smarter than them.”

So anyways I call it soccer now.

[imzemo]

I typically refer to American football as egg shaped hand ball

[what-even-is-thiss]

When I was a teenager I had a phase where I called soccer football because the rest of the world called it that but eventually my dad told me “You know, there’s a point where acting smart doesn’t make you smart and just makes you annoying. Refusing to use the word that everyone else around you uses doesn’t make you smarter than them.”

So anyways I call it soccer now.

[homunculus-argument]

"Problematic height gap" was a concept made up by people who have never seen the kind of short people who go out to interact with the public. Those fucking gnomes fear nothing. If they're at the exact right height to bite you in the nuts, they will.

And insanely tall people come in two categories: If they're merely tall, and not large, they're just skittish fragile giraffes. The most dangerous thing they can do to you is stand up too fast, faint because their blood pressure dropped, and hit you on the way down like a felled tree.

The tall people who are also large are mostly chill in my experience. Sure some of them must be assholes just out of statistical inevitability, but it takes some edge out of life knowing that someone could try to hit you with a tank and all they're going to find out is whether or not a Leopard 2A7 has a crumple zone. And most importantly they are never tactically prepared for getting bit in the nuts.

[leweinstein]

FUCKING THANK YOU. IVE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR YEARS.

[therainbowreads]

“I won't be okay, but I will be better.” ― Andrew Joseph White, Hell Followed With Us

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny: Hey, you! Come here! *Grabs Tim's arm and yanks him off the sidewalk*

Tim: What?

Danny: Listen, I dont have a lot of time to explain but my sister's wedding reception is inside and I told a small white lie that my boyfriend was running late. You're the only man wearing a suit at six pm from the street that I can see, so please pretend to be my boyfriend for at least four hours. Ill pay you.

Tim, who had been planning to crash the wedding reception for the large shrimp: My time has come.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny: Are you aware you're being haunted? I can help you with that.

Damian: Leave my demons alone. They keep me company

Danny: Oh, its consensual haunting. Sorry about that and have a good day!

Damian watching him leave: What a lame pick up line.

Dick: He does deserve some points for admitting off the bat hes one of those "I can fix him" types.

Danny climbing into Jazz's car: That was the coolest guy I've ever seen. He was being haunted by a level 10 category ghosts and admitted to inviting them to keep him company! Just raw iron will in his voice let me tell you.

Jazz: Whoa! No wonder he attracted a level 10. Those guys ussually only go for like navy seals or something. Think he's a army brat?

Danny sighing dreamily: With those arms? He could be a anything he wants.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Duke texting Wayne group chat: My roommate is adorable

Dick: adorable like a box of kittens or adorable like thats my future husband?

Duke: Kittens. I'm straight

Damian: Do not write falsehoods in this communication channel again Thomas

Duke: Its the truth!

Tim: Leave the token straight alone Demon spawn.

Duke: Do you want to know about my roommate or not?

Jason: Sure. Anything to get this chat to stop blowing up.

Duke: He sleeps with homemade plushies that he made of the Bats. Look, tonight its Red Robin and Red Hood. *Duke sent a picture of Danny Fenton cuddling a Red Robin and Red Hood plushie fast asleep*

Jason: That is adorable

Tim: IS HE SINGLE

Duke: You are not allowed to date my college roommate. We establish this.

Tim: But Duke, he's gorgeous

Steph: I conquer

Cass: I conquer

Damian: I conquer

Jason: I conquer

Dick: The council has spoken. Duke's college roommate is officially stamped "Hot".

Bruce: Ask him if he can make me a copy of each one.

Duke: Thank you for being normal Bruce.

Bruce: I want plushies of my babies before he becomes a in law.

Tim: IS THAT PERMISSION BY THE HIGH COUNCIL!?

Duke: Dammit Bruce