#writing homework

[kaipassedgo]

every day i wake up and am mad at the end of steves storyline and the full and complete lack of people who GET IT

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[zovie9638]

Hello, just dropping this here, see you every weekend,

Next part

[booktiger13]

I'm done. :")

I stared at my screen for 10 minutes trying to figure out wtf was happening.

[xochimillilili]

I've been working and studying so hard, and I just really think I deserve to have a desk pet serving me obediently while I'm busy. Just a cute pet sat on a pillow among plushies under me, a cute gag in its mouth, napping while I pet their back with my leg, calming me with their cuddles.

Though all my work is getting to me, so I just can't help it as the night goes on, as I start to reach down and yank their head up, my nails digging into their skin

Innocently cooing at them, they're just a dumb pet after all, "come on babyyyy, enough rest, you've gotta take care of me remember love? I've been such a good boy studying and working so hard, you wanna care and spoil me, don't you sweetie~? Awww, of course you do, you're just a loyal pet after all" As I yank their gag out their mouth, already desperately forcing them to make out with my leaking cock

Praising and moaning so cutely for me, swallowing and looking up at me with such adoration. My precious desk pest, my beloved lil study buddy... you just want to care for and praise me don't you baby?

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika is the pe teacher and reader is the English teacher and reader is sweet to all the students and everyone loves her but sevika is more on the strict side, doesn’t actually matter what’s the plot i just need teacher!sevika x teacher!reader😭🙏

HELL YES

men and minors dni

"jinx, the bell rang five minutes ago, kiddo. what class are you supposed to be in?" you ask as you walk into your classroom, blowing on your fresh cup of coffee.

this is your planning period, and you never mind having a student or two visit you, but you know jinx better than to assume she's here on her study-hall and not skipping class.

"please don't make me go, teach."

"dr. singed's chemistry class?" you guess. he's notorious for his harsh grading rubric.

jinx shakes her head. "no, no, i've got an a in chem." she huffs. "it's gym class."

you laugh. "you don't like gym? i've seen you run down the halls, you're quick as hell. figured you'd love that stuff."

"fuck no. sevika's a monster! she's making us climb ropes and do pushups-- i can barely carry my backpack to school, what makes her think i can do a fuckin' pullup!?" jinx laments.

you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. you gesture to the little corner of bean bags, blankets, and books in your class, then pull open your desk drawer. "you can stay. but if principal merdarda or sevika comes in here i'm tellin' her you told me it's your study hall."

"you'd rat me out?!" jinx cries. you grab one of the many bags of chips you store in your bottom drawer and toss it to her where she's getting cozy in the beanbag. she grins. "flamers, fuck yeah!"

"in exchange for my hospitality... you need to tell me why i saw your sister fighting with a cop at the gay bar last weekend." you request.

jinx gasps, her eyes lighting up in delight at a chance to gossip about vi-- a girl you taught a few years ago.

"you party at the hound?!" jinx asks with a giggle. you shrug.

"is that so shocking?"

"you're badass underneath that cardigan, huh, teach?" jinx teases. she stands from the corner and drags her beanbag across the classroom, situating herself in front of your desk and digging into her flamers. "okay, so, a year ago vi got arrested at a protest, right?" jinx starts.

you nod along in amusement at jinx's story, dividing your attention between her and the essays you're grading.

zaun high is small enough that you get to really know the kids that roam the halls for four years, and jinx comes from a big family with a gaggle of kids you've only ever adored. it's good to hear that her brothers are doing well, that vi's figuring herself out.

you blink up at jinx when she takes a pause between stories, snacking on her food. "so i hear you've made things official with ekko."

jinx turns bright red and she squeaks as she hides behind her braids. "shut up!"

"had to lock him down before he gets elected class president, huh?" you tease. jinx squawks.

"okay, well, what about a rumor i heard that you're dating another teacher here!" jinx accuses, pointing at you.

you giggle and shrug. "mmm... maybe... but you'll never guess which." you say.

jinx scoffs and rolls her eyes. "oh please, it's so obvious. you and profe ran are always giggling together." she says.

you laugh. ran, the spanish teacher, is a childhood friend of yours, but they're certainly not the person you're dating. "sure, it's ran."

jinx frowns and squints at you. "the new college councilor?" she guesses.

"ms. grayson?" you ask. jinx nods. you laugh again. "that's hilarious. isn't she married?"

jinx huffs. "well, i dunno! are you even dating anyone?"

the door slams open and you both jump, turning to look at sevika.

fuck. she looks good. you're pretty sure she's been wearing her shortest possible shorts just to tease you. she's been using the increasingly warm weather as her excuse.

"jinx! the fuck are you doing?" she glares at the teenager.

jinx jumps out of her beanbag and scrambles to collect her belongings. you giggle.

"put the beanbag back before you go."

"fuck." jinx mumbles, scrambling some more.

sevika turns her glare from her missing student to you, striding up to your desk. you bite your lip as you watch her thighs ripple with each step. "you're harboring fugitive students now?"

"she told me it was her study hall." you lie.

jinx groans. "you rat!"

sevika huffs and glares down at you. you shrug and blink up at her innocently. with a quick glance at jinx where she's stuffing her face with the rest of her chips over the garbage can, you hold up a folder to block your mouth and whisper up at your girlfriend. "my place tonight?"

sevika's glare melts for just a moment, and she gives you a half nod and a wink before tunring on her heel and smacking the chips out of jinx's hand. "c'mon, before i give you detention." she huffs, dragging jinx out of your class by her backpack.

"see you in third period, jinx!" you call. jinx giggles and waves to you. sevika flips you off over her shoulder.

taglist!!

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taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

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[rosenr0tten]

Meljay isn’t boring. Most people are just unwilling to discuss or engage with them in a meaningful way because of their own biases + inability to think of ship dynamics beyond their cookie cutter tropes

[v88sy]

This has got to be like...some type of copyright infringement. 🤣

[thedungeonbat]

no sleep, no coffee🌛

Just like the night before I slept less than 4 hours tonight, yay…Our coffee machine didn’t feel like doing its job at 6.30am (me too, my dear, me too), so the only thing that made me feel somewhat alive was todays sunset. Since the term is almost over we’re not doing too much in classes anymore. Gladly that means I can more or less relax until February. Except for homework and teachers getting on my nerves (my tutor huh). Who didn’t get on my nerves though was a friend of mine! They asked if I could give them feedback on their writing samples for their uni applications and I really enjoyed reading and reviewing it! It was a mix of short stories, text excerpts and poems; their last poem was my personal favourite :)

Now: watching soccer match, hoping to sleep >4h

[theogonize]

late nights and extra hours are annoying for most people. people who have to get home to their family members, partners, even pets. so naturally, increased enthusiasm to stay overtime was a sign of loneliness.

 there were two lonely people in the oncology department who hardly had anyone to come home to. you, that was more or less explainable by circumstance, you were new here and focusing on doing well at your high-end doctor job. but doctor wilson? you were sure he had a wife. this inference you had drawn from the wedding band on his slender fingers. this little article of jewelry was a cause of silent strife for you, stupidly so. you’re gorgeous boss was taken, of course he was; he was a respectable oncologist, diabetically sweet man who looked almost painstakingly beautiful in a lab coat. how does one look that good in a lab coat? 

but apart from musing about your boss, you often were in the clinic early and left late, running tests and working the scans. and he was there too, doing some paperwork in the office. he was always diligent with his paperwork, almost a bit too much, almost as if it was an escape and he was relieved when it piled up. another night to spend locked in his office and not in his bedroom, with his wife, as if she wasn’t even there. 

but you knew she was, you felt her presence even though you’d never met her and she never presented herself as a physical barrier. you felt her (or was it your conscience?) separating the two of you, like two like ends of a magnet repelled invisibly. you kid yourself into thinking if she wasn't there, if he took off the wedding band, if he was single – you’d make a move. sure you would. 

you usually refrained from bothering dr. wilson when he’s cooped up in his office, not wanting to disturb his peace, something he clearly craves when he’s here. but today you felt a little braver, for some strange reason, you felt a little valorous. so you let out a shaky exhale – none of those in front of dr. wilson – gathering up the courage like a middle school boy about to ask his crush out. you push the door to his office.

he looked up, slightly perplexed seeing you there, at this hour or maybe at all. he sat in his office chair, slightly angled, the joint paper and weed laying carelessly spread over his paperwork. his cuffs are folded up to his elbows, brazenly showing his muscular forearms. the light in his office seems to bounce off him. there’s a halo around him, there always is. you immediately regret your decision. stupid, stupid, stupid. to think you could do this, feel normal when he… when he literally looks like that. angelic. otherworldly. your voice is caught in your throat. it’s pathetic how much you want him. his face screws up in embarrassment as he begins to recognise you from the shadows; how could he not, you were his favourite.

unbeknownst to you, or anyone apart from house, really, you were his favourite. why wouldn’t you be? you were kind, pretty, intelligent. obviously, you don’t really like your employee for things like that, so he just said that you were a hard worker, you were perceptive around patients, you were always polite and punctual. an indispensable asset to his team. he was always wishing you would linger a little longer around him, so he could work his signature charm; the pathetic attempt he would make at befriending a desolate woman in the hopes of sleeping with her, as house would put it.

but maybe he didn’t have to try too hard with you, because he knew, everyone knew, that you liked him. maybe more than just your employer. maybe. and that was one of the only things that kept him happy. the possibility of you reciprocating if he ever made a move. 

after stuttering for a few seconds and almost falling over you hand him the test results, accompanied by the ct scan. 

your nervousness is rubbing off on him. it’s too late to hide it now, especially when he’s made such a mess on his desk. not like it matters, you know he does this for patients sometimes. he doesn’t need to be nervous. why is he nervous?

now that you had made it this far, you weren’t going away without some small talk. and come on, the topic was right there, partially rolled in his hand. 

“is this for the osteosarcoma patient?” 

that was your most recent one. room on the second floor, two months of radiation and the nausea had started kicking in pretty bad. wilson almost felt guilty for it not being for the patient, despite prescribing dramamine just a few hours ago. this odd moment of personal space invaded by you, and yet he sat here, welcoming it. because you were his favourite.

“uh no. it’s for me.” 

he wasn’t just welcoming it. he was inviting you over. he was being honest with you, encouraging questions. encouraging to fill the void, fill the space. the one you hadn’t created but certainly widened with everything you did. your desperation for his approval like his desperation for yours, a symphony made from the two most anxious, people-pleasing oncologists. 

you needn’t respond. your face said it all; wide eyed, mouth slightly ajar. you’d lost all train of thought, and maybe some respect for him, wilson figured.

“do you… want to join?"

how much more forward does he need to be? a man like him rarely has to make a move like this. women jump at the opportunity to be with him simply because he is him. the sweetest man. the perfect man. he, who sat here late at night, avoiding his wife, and hoping that his much younger employee would join him for a smoke. perhaps, in due time, a little more. 

“i- i don’t… i haven’t… i’ve never smoked.” 

but dear lord. it doesn't get any better than this, does it? you would have to be completely braindead to turn down an opportunity like this. does it scare you? smoking in your boss’ office? in the hospital you both work at? especially when he looks like that, talks like that and just is like that?

“i could teach you.” 

“if that’s okay with you… no pressure.” he adds as an afterthought. 

you nod, anxious. he gestures towards the couch, you comply. he grabs a lighter and joins you. your heart pounds in your chest. you pray to god he can't hear it.

you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. his eyes were so intense when they wanted to be, so expressive, conveying a thousand things and you, blinded as you were by his sheer presence, were unable to comprehend any of them. there was something about his face, his features, their softness. those pleading eyes, goddammit. they made you yearn for him uncontrollably.

his movements were slow and deliberate. the lighter flicked in his hand a couple times before it engulfed the tip of the joint. wilson watched you react to the flame, your eyes steady on the burning paper. he found it amusing how immersed you were, how new everything was to you, how exciting. he found himself wishing he could see the world from your eyes as he dragged the joint, turning his head away from you and blowing smoke in the other direction.

“your turn.” he said, offering it to you. 

your hands awkwardly try to hold the joints from different angles. ultimately, you surrender. wilson takes another hit as he watches you give up.

“i don’t think i can do this.” you bite your lip. fuck. you feel like a failure. failure at doing something reckless and stupid with your boss. failure at fun. “sorry.”

“don’t be.” wilson reassures you. he always does. you forget he deals with impossible cases like you all the time. “i’ll hold it and you suck in the smoke, for now, okay?”

you nod fervently. okay, this is okay. you can do it. you can have fun. 

his fingers caging the joint now reach towards your lips. you look at the burning paper and the green stuff inside it, then look at him for some sort of go-ahead. he doesn’t break eye contact. neither do you. you slowly put the end in your mouth, sucking in the smoke, like he told you to do. your eyes keep searching for his approval while his… they just take in the sight in front of him. 

you blow it out. the earthy, bitter aftertaste in your mouth. wilson stares at you, agape. 

he mutters a quiet good god before bringing the joint back to his own lips. you stare at them shamelessly.

“okay this time, suck in some air with your teeth and push it deeper… if that makes any sense.” he demonstrates as you watch him, committing every move to memory in order to emulate it perfectly. 

he brings the blunt to your lips, more careful this time, more focused. you revise the instructions in your brain and follow. the weed starts to hit the back of your throat, choking it. 

you cough out the smoke. wilson, being the doctor that he is, rushs beside you. his strong arms wrap around your body, he rubs your shoulder in soothing circles. 

“there, there. just breathe. exhale.” 

you nod amidst more coughs, making sure he knows you're listening. obeying. always. his hands begin sliding lower down your back, reaching the middle before they flex. his conscience slipping in, stopping him from moving further. you take a big breath. your head spins, falling back on wilson’s chest unknowingly. 

and he doesn't mind, as long as you don't. he smokes again, presses it against your lips again. slower this time, he whispers. you do, boring into his eyes. this time you're able to do it. this time the weed permeates within you. your shoulders relax a bit.

the to and fro continues. with each passing second, the tension grows thicker and thicker. every second you glance away from wilson's big, brown eyes is accounted for, remembered. all the moments you've taken away from him, all the moments the two of you could spend doing this, everything. 

he teaches you, he guides you. his eyes stay fixed on you, your swollen lips and how they kiss the end of the blunt. each passing second your body melts further into his, just the way he likes it. he hasn't moved his hand, he hasn't stopped embracing you. one hand on your waist, the other dragging the blunt from his lips to yours. 

“you're a natural.” he remarks.

“i am?” 

“almost as if you've done this before.”

you let out a soft chuckle. 

“i really haven't, doctor wilson.” 

you had to… you had to break the immersion didn't you? you had to ruin this perfect moment by reminding him of what you both were. wrong. unethical. wilson looks away, his expression unreadable. he feels you looking at him, thinking, adoring. 

his lips vibrate, his body aches. despite the smoke and haze, never had things been so clear, so simple. all laid out in front of him. never had it been so confusing, the line between love and lust blurring indefinitely, turning into the smoke coming from the burning joint, enveloping the two of you, bringing you so close. he felt the heat radiate off your skin. hot. it burned. everything burned.

for you, the lines were always blurred. they were unclear from the moment you accepted this job, from the moment you started this silly crush on your married boss. it was always deeper, always soul crushing. it always burned.

wilson brought the blunt close to his lips as you watched him move for the first time in a few minutes. nothing in the world seemed to be as important as his lips at this very moment. so pink, so perfect, so painful to witness without kissing. 

mouthful of smoke, wilson comes impossibly close. your eyes close involuntarily, afraid that if you see this sight you may never be able to live without it. he takes that as an invitation. his lips touch yours with utmost sensitivity. you tilt your head, giving him access, permission. and he takes it. 

your mouth fills with smoke, it pushes on your throat. but you swallow. you can't pull away now, so you swallow like a good girl. your lips move on their own. you can barely process wilson's weight on you, his hands on you, his tongue entering your mouth with feverish intensity. your hands move everywhere, anywhere. you have to feel it all, soak it all in, because this might be a dream, this may never happen again. but its happening right now, and it is impossibly better than you could have imagined. 

successfully out of breath and rock hard, wilson pulls away. the sight of you catching your breath, your chest heaving up and down, your lips swollen, wet. if he could freeze time, this would be it. he runs his hands through his hair. unbelievable. 

he puts out the blunt before he dives back in. he can't physically pull away. it's too much. like a moth to a flame, like metal to a magnet; the pull, the attraction, it's maddening. at this moment, nothing hurts. nothing's real.

[spirited-splashes]

He is anything but okay

[luxaofhesperides]

Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke

Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically. 

Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries. 

It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham. 

So.

Danny Fenton is technically innocent.

Duke is trying to prove that he’s not. 

Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.

He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native. 

There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up. 

Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.

He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.

Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras. 

But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them… 

It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.

A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is. 

Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all. 

All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.

According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything. 

And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own. 

He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort. 

It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking. 

Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight. 

He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds. 

He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight. 

Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—

Danny disappears.

Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground. 

The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.

He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading. 

It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes. 

The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924. 

The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom. 

He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds. 

Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found. 

Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?

But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling. 

Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.

Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything. 

A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface. 

Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air. 

There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”

He steps back and bumps into Duke.

Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. 

“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”

“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist. 

“I just have a few questions!”

“Well, I have a question: why?!”

“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”

Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.

“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”

“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.

He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”

Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch. 

“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”

There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”

That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.

“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”

“Ghosts are real, alright?”

“Yes.”

Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”

“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”

“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”

“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”

Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”

“Yeah, those people were already dead.”

The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure. 

“They were…”

“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”

“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”

“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”

Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…

“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping. 

Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”

“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”

Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts. 

“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.

It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow. 

He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”

Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions. 

Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.

Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen. 

“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”

“Cool. I gonna go now!” 

He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before. 

As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it. 

For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER. 

If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.

He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.

[unvrsoflyly]

i saw a tiktok that made me think of modern au till and it can't get out of my mind... so here's some ramdom small hcs :)

content - fluff, gn reader, might be ooc since it’s first time im actually writing for him, till being a sweetheart cause he is idc, established relationship-ish, lowercase intended!! english is not my first language and it isn't proof read, so there might be some mistakes

note - hellooo, wow i wrote smth after a year! till is my current obsession (thanks to all the writers who post till x reader content, don’t stop u feed my obsession lmao), im sorry y’all i felt like sharing my impressions on how he would be with his partner lol, enjoy!!

modern au till who would find himself drawing with you in his mind constantly. it doesn't need to be a portrait, you fuel his creative mind so there's always some pieces of you spread on his artworks.

modern au till who would always pour all is love into songs dedicated to you. his ability to turn his feelings onto lyrics and melodies became a second nature with time. it still amazed you how clear his intentions were while writing it.

modern au till who shares his art as a way to share his feelings better. they are always more clear since his mouth and his emotions always fighting with each other to express himself.

modern au till who would make a ring out of one of his used guitar strings after you gave him an crafted charm to put anywhere. you passed your time to make something reminding him of you? well, he’ll dedicate you his hours of practice and writing with his guitar by putting it around one of your fingers.

modern au till who would always turn bright red if anyone points out the charm attached to his phone, the one you made. he becomes helpless out of his artistic bubble and don’t know how to handle the slight teasing. what could he do? he loved you after all.

modern au till who might not be the most straightforward and public about his relationship with you just because he’s more comfortable in his privacy and you bet you are a part of it. grand gestures are not his forte, but he still show you his love in his own genuine way that feel so personal.

thank u for reading!! - all right reserved, please ask before reposting somewhere or doing a traduction.

! art and character are not mine, credit goes to vivinos/qmeng

[the-spideytorch-fanboy]

Spideytorch Influencer!AU

Peter is a political debater (think Dean Winters) and often goes up against people who oppose human rights. He is well-known for asking random supers what their stance is on random political issues. His most popular video is of him asking the Human Torch about his views on gay marriage (Johnny told him the only marriages he supports are gay ones).

Johnny also does politics, but he focuses on celebrities and which ones have done bad things. He has made numerous videos against Spider-Man for stealing his peanut butter and wearing socks with sandals. His most popular video is a random video of Spider-Man ranting about J. Jonah Jameson, while they hung out on top of the Statue of Liberty eating doughnuts (Johnny is a little bitter since he claims that he's made better videos).

They made exactly one podcast episode that wasn't aired because they'd started making out during it.

[captain-ultimat-doggo]

Katie was having a panic attack in the walls of a foreign space ship. She was screwed.

She had been looking for a new vessel, yes. Her mentors, the older humans who had taken her in to show her what it was really like living the roaming lifestyle of a Ship rat, or Gremlin, or Brownie, or whatever nickname was popping up now, had been amazing. but now that she knew the ropes- or cables, she supposed, to managing alien ships and crews, she had been dropped off in a galactic station to find her own place. It had been going great! she got supplies, did some odd jobs for the local human village under the pet shop, and had been scoping out the ships coming and going from port. She was solo, right now, though she had hoped to befriend a few other's in the pubs of the village and put together her own crew. Still, it wouldn't be many, so she was looking for a small ship.

Then the sirens went off, beeping the signal for "EVACUATE" with soul-shattering volume. Chaos erupted immediately. That siren only ever went off if there was a catastrophic meltdown being threatened, or something of equally devastating affect.

Now, most of the humans who lived in the village full time had evac strategies. Most families were friends with shopkeeps and had deals to hitch a ride in case of evacuation. Those who were passing through had ships to return to or ships already scouted to hop onto. So the evacuation was chaotic, but everyone was going to their main destinations. Except Katie.

Katie had leapt into action, doing her best to help the evacuation. that was the life of a brownie, be helpful to a fault. She ran against the crowd to the village and began helping carry luggage for the elderly, ensure families stayed together, and did her best to keep an eye out for anything incoming. The ground shook as massive aliens pounded overhead, running and not watching their steps at all. if any humans ventured out of the walls or the space between the flooring and the hull they would be dead in seconds. Boarding the ships was going to be a nightmare. But Katie didn't worry about that until she was escorting the last group to their ship. This required dashing up from the floor to the ships landing gear, which would be climbed access panels would be used to enter the ship. Katie was standing guard, watching for the vessel's captain- the leader of this group had sent her arm monitor the description and she had been flicking through the list of crewmembers. There were only two crewmates not confirmed to be onboard, one of them being the Captain.

She was pulled from her thoughts as someone shouted behind her. Katie whirled around and saw that the last person was climbing up and beckoning her. She started to dash forwards when the world lurched. Katie screamed as she was flung through the air.

Something had hit the space station. Something had HIT the space station! Aliens had fallen to the ground with the feeling of the impact, untethered containers slid across the floor, and Katie was flying through the air. She would be smashed to the ground in seconds, and then probably trampled or squashed. That is, if she hit the ground.

Twisting sharply in the air, Katie pointed her arm at something that was hovering off the ground, and completely stable. She fired a grapple and it latched on. She nearly threw up as her trajectory quickly changed for the second time in less than a minute and she was yanked towards the hovering object. She slammed into it ungracefully and hung there for a moment, completely winded.

When she got her bearings she realized what the object she was attached to was. It was a hoverchair of sorts, and she managed to climb down onto the anti-grav platform that was under the main seat. she see legs hanging down, but wasn't sure what species they belonged to yet. The chair was moving towards a ship, at least. Katie crouched and waited. Good brownies aren't seen until they want to be.

Once onboard the new spacecraft, Katie waited for the hoverchair to go close enough to the floor for her to jump or repel down. sadly, her chauffer was a fidgety fellow, and didn't seem fond of parking in place for long. She was able to launch the drone from it's port on her shoulder to get a better view of him, however. Human drones were about the size of Earth birds. which meant that they were usually less noticeable than flies, and pretty safe ways to survey the world. Turns out the owner of the chair was a Vax'allif with a couple deformities. He was missing his third leg; and both of his wings seemed mangled, Thus the awesome hoverchair. He quickly joined the ranks of a bunch of others, a Avatroxi, a Triglocerin, a Fremba, Katie had never seen such a diverse crew before. there didn't seem to be more than two or three of the same species aboard, which she frankly didn't realize could happen.

Eventually she got the opportunity to repel down and drop into a drainage grate into the subflooring, and from there into the walls of the ship. She maneuvered expertly through the wiring and got to know the layout, noting the water systems and places she would be able to tap for fresh water or attach a waste disposal unit. Basic housekeeping.

when she found a bunch of damaged wiring her heart sank. The ship was infested by VoidWasps. the damn things were twice her size and would feed off any energy source they could access. they also had pincers that could bite a newfoundland in half and their colonies took either alien exterminators or an experienced team of Brownies to take down. She'd helped with a Voidwasp extermination before, of course, but right now she was Alone. Probably. there was no sign of humans anywhere on this ship so far, but the more she explored the more she realized how truly massive this ship was. It seemed to be a deep space research vessel, which meant that if it had fully fueled up then it might not stop at another station for half a cycle at least. These things were meant for deep space exploration, and housed their own communities. Usually including at least one human village. Katie pushed that thought aside.

Hours passed and eventually Katie mapped out a few nest locations, a way into the kitchen stores, and places to get personal supplies. she also had repaired a ton of wiring and sprayed everything she touched liberally with Human-Grade Insect repellent. The repellent was built into human adhesives as well, and pretty much anything that had to do with wiring or engineering had a few bug-proofing precautions. She had also come face to face with about four wasps, which she had managed to shoot so full of plasma that they fried inside their carapaces. She really did not like bugs. Voidwasps especially. the damn things were invasive!

She had also finally pinged the ship, scanning human stations for any signal. She scanned again. and again. There was nothing. She was the only human aboard. Katie had been going through well rehearsed motions until now, but this was a problem. To tackle a vessel this size you would usually want like. thirty humans at minimum. and she was alone. A research vessel like this usually attracted thrill-seekers. Humans loved to adventure through space, research vessels were basically gremlin bait. This ship wasn't new, she could tell by the wiring. some of these parts had years of rust built up, and from the damage she was seeing the voidwasp infestation was massive, the colony probably numbering in the thousands. That stuff doesn't happen overnight. This ship was perfect Gremlin bait, yet no human had stepped aboard. That meant she was probably missing something. Usually she would've staked out the ship for a while before getting on. maybe there was some kind of red flag about it that would stop any humans from boarding? Maybe the wasps were worse than she thought and no human would go near such a large nest, even with numbers on their side?

Katie was having a panic attack in a foreign ship. She almost didn't hear the buzzing clicks behind her as a wasp closed in.

[thedungeonbat]

Trying to work on tomorrows tasks☁️🌫️

Won’t be in class tomorrow due to my drivers license test, gladly we have a ‚practise‘ digital day so all the stuff from my classes will be uploaded. Yay for ‚let’s prepare for another lockdown scenario‘ day.

Currently working on a mediation for ap English class (honour killing/femicide). The weather has officially turned into winter weather and im not sure if I like it.

+ I have a small test in politics class on Thursday on international organisations. Considered skipping it since I don’t have the time to study at all but I’d run into my teacher because I have a shift in the library afterwards…I’ll find a solution / hopefully rearrange in a way to make room for studying