Duke, GMing a game for the other bats would be fucking fantastic, because he knows what makes a bat tick
Duke, who prepared a lasagna of paranoia, just layers and layers and layers of suspense to get everyone's hackles up and even the big bat jumping at shadows. there are puzzles, riddles, and twists littered all over the game world
Steph is the only one who manages to keep grounded enough to actually solve the mystery and she Does rub it in Tim's face for all eternity
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Hello! I want to know... Besides Hyacinthus, who is your fav Apollo's lover (male or female)? I really love Cyrene 🤭
Oho, thank you so much for the ask!
There are a couple candidates that immediately come to mind tbh. I'm not the sort that has a strict OTP sense when it comes to Apollo because I imagine there's importance in each of the affairs of the gods that are written about - there must be some reason that we remember their names and stories even now, y'know?
Ultimately, I have a brief selection of the lovers of Apollo whose stories I have personal and vested interest in with no particular preference except maybe for Evadne who, if I were forced to give only one additional favourite besides Hyacinthus, I would probably say it's her.
As for why I prefer Evadne over all the great and powerful romances Apollo has had; maybe it's just because I'm a sucker for the ooey-gooey romances but there's something so sweet about Evadne and Apollo's relationship and the consequent relationship Apollo has with Iamus, his and Evadne's son. I also love the subtle politics of such a relationship - from Evadne's side, yes she's a princess but more importantly, she's one of Poseidon's inhuman daughters - a child between Poseidon and a nymph - and the child between her and Apollo - a son of Zeus - goes on to become the father of a long line of famous prophets for the King of the Gods himself. That makes Iamus one of those rare children of a major god who is not divine but certainly not human either, something that is further exacerbated by the fact that for the first five days of his life, Iamus is cared for by his father who ensures that the baby is fed not milk but honey from the fangs of a snake.
All in all, it's not a very remarkable story in the grand scheme of things. There's no big drama like with Admetus and there's no great tragedy like with Coronis or Melia. Apollo doesn't act particularly noteworthy in either Pindar or Hyginus' account of the tale like he does for Cyrene or Branchus and the end result is a line of prophets sacred to Zeus and the Olympia oracle - a classic example of Apollo in his role as father to the great prophets and wisemen and yet something about the gentleness of Apollo in his affair with Evadne has always captivated me.
Evadne, who so feared her father that she would abandon her newborn child just to spare herself his anger, was able to trust and love Apollo. Likewise, Apollo did not once abandon her, sending the most blessed of attendants to help in her birthing and automatically stepping in to make sure Iamus was fed, clothed and warm until his mother returned for him. It's something about a young Iamus going into the River Alpheus - an ancient stream - and calling out for his purpose from his father and grandfather. It's something about Apollo's immediate and calm response and the way he leads the youth to the temple that will be his destiny and personally educates him in the ways of divination.
It's just one of those stories that always sticks out to me for the portrait of a father and lover it sketches of Apollo, even in a seemingly innocuous myth such as this one.
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Robin and Steve getting a job as crime scene clean up crew because hey, it’s a job and it pays well. They are at a regular job, thankfully the bodies are always taken away before they get there so it’s just the blood and other unsavoury things they have to deal with.
What they don’t expect to see is two curly haired strangers rushing up to the scene. A tense conversation between them, the shorter fiery girl telling the taller, defensive boy off
‘maybe DON’T get distracted next time? You think we need another vampire to compete with?’
The taller boy firing back ‘I might be dead but you can’t expect me to hear black sabbath and NOT air guitar! I’ll find our new ‘friend’ and I’ll fix it. Okay!? I’m sorry!’
The intruders walk right into the scene before they acknowledge Robin and Steve.
‘Hello? Hi? Guys this is a crime scene, you can’t just walk through here!’ Steve is infront of both of them, hands on hips and a stern look. Robin comes up to his side, eyeing the pair and cautious after overhearing their conversation
‘Oh. Our mistake. We’ll come back later. You um..don’t happen to know what happened to the victim do you?’ The girl asks, brown eyes flighty before settling on Robin and giving a sweet smile and batting her lashes. Robin stutters, blushing hard and as she tries to give an answer when Steve interjects
‘I’m sorry, we can’t answer that. Maybe try the police?’ It’s said with an irritated undertone almost like he’s jealous that he isn’t the one on the receiving end of the girls attention. But then the other boy steps up, leans far too close while giving Steve a thorough once over that makes Steve feel like he’s been undressed. Steve maybe wishes he was.
‘Oh but I think I’d rather speak to you.’ The boy winks and as he smiles there’s a hint of canine teeth that look unnaturally pointed that the boy licks over. Before he can go any further, the girl thrusts her hand out with a tight lipped smile
‘Ignore him. Please. I’m Nancy, this is Eddie. But like I said, ignore him.’
The boy, Eddie, gives an indignant ‘hey!’ while Nancy continues.
‘We really respect what you do, clearly important and valued work but we are going to need you to come with us. It’s your choice if it’s voluntary or force.’
Robin quickly finds Steve’s hand, as they turn to face each other and run.
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i need them to put eddie in a coma so he can have his own little coma dream realization
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Bulkhead being pretty much the only one that calls Arcee "Cee" makes me so soft you don't understand
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I also sit this fuckin’ close when anything medieval is on the teleie
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Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die
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sao missed an opportunity for a running joke with that heartbeat app tbh
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“how was ___” “it was good” but everyone is distraught and traumatized
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None of my silverfin folks are Good, per se- they kill and maim and indulge killing and hurting and a number of them eat that which remains, in the right context. But also they’re friends, u see, and they can be so kind in spite of that. Given the right circumstances.
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You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t look up.
“May I ask what you are doing?”
“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.”
Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.”
“I am doing no such thing.”
You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles.
Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.
“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.”
The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.”
He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.”
He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say.
“Why?”
“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.”
Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.”
— — — —
The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her.
“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.”
The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?”
Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.”
You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”
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gods you just know kantarou's house is filled with like. near-hoarder-level piles of newspapers
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Headcanon that since Jason can’t go out with his family publicly, what he does instead is show up in random disguises.
Bruce is chatting up some socialites at a gala, talking about the joys of fatherhood and how rewarding it is. Meanwhile he made eye contact with Jason disguised as a waiter twenty minutes ago, and is currently trying to stop his eye from twitching.
Dick is speaking to a third grade class as a part of the Bludhaven Police department outreach program, except when he walks in Jason is sitting behind the teachers desk, playing the role of substitute.
Babs can’t help but stare when Jason hands her a coffee from behind the counter of her favorite coffee shop. (His name tag reads Peter, and for a second she thinks she’s actually lost it).
Tim walks into Wayne Towers one day and on his way in, he waves to his secretary- lo and behold Marjorie has been replaced by Jason. It takes him three hours to notice.
Cass walks into ballet class to discover her teacher had to take a sick day- his replacement is Jason in a beret who talks in a terrible French accent the entire class, only to drop it at the very end to talk in a thick New Jersey accent. Her entire class talks about it for weeks.
Stephanie hails a cab on her way home one night, only to find Jason driving. She’s not sure how he pulled it off or how he got a cab, but her mind is effectively blown.
Duke is on a school trip to the natural history museum, and when the tour guide introduces himself, Duke can’t help but role his eyes. Jason gives a surprisingly good tour, even throwing in some tidbits about a robbery that went down just last week that the Signal stopped.
Damian’s encounter happens when he’s with Jon in metropolis. He’s watching Jon play baseball, and when Jon steps up to bat, he can’t help but notice a the umpire looks a little familiar.
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content: drunk!gojo, clingy gojo, infinity acting up, pre-established relationship, down bad for you, mentions of having kids, poor Ijichi
“Hic— where’s my wife?”
You rub your temples, as you watch your husband whine, “how much did you let him drink?”
“Let him? He was a force of his own, he—“ Ijichi cuts off when he sees your glare, balking as he panics, she’s even scarier than Gojo when she’s mad! “I’m so sorry!”
You shake your head, “it’s fine, Ijichi,” and he scurried away quickly, leaving you with your very inebriated husband. The one who had drank one sip of alcohol too many and was probably liable to misfire a hollow purple any second, “Satoru,”
You approached him and were met with the resistance of his infinity, as he sat slumped over on the booth table, “Satoru, put down your infinity—“
“No,”
“Satoru, come on, you have to stop or I can’t take you home,” and he’s shaking his head, cheeks flushed.
“No, I mean I don’t know how to,” he sighs, “the infinity is all messed up, I can’t do it,” he rubs his eyes, and you’re sighing again.
“It’s just because of the alcohol, Toru,” you sit beside him, “you can do it
His face was buried in the crook of your neck, dead weight on his two feet, as he pulled you even closer, cheeks flushed and warm from the alcohol, “why didn’t you come? You told me you were gonna pick me up,”
“No, I didn’t, you said Ijichi was going to—“ you manage to say before he’s whipping his head up, eyes sparking with blue, but lips curled in a pout, as if he wasn’t two seconds from obliterating you and the entire block.
“Do you hate me?” And his eyes nearly glow in the dark of the night, infinity flickering as you drew closer, “do you not want me to have your kids?”
Your hand finally reaches him, as you are the only one who can pierce through his defenses, “first of all l, I would be the one having your kids, weirdo,” your fingers cup his cheek, thumbing away his tears, “and how could I ever hate my husband?”
He blinks at you, “You’re married?” And you have to bite back your laugh at his affronted expression, “to who? I’ll hollow purple them!”
You snort, “Well he has light hair, blue eyes, and is drunk off his ass,”
He blinks, furrowing his brow, “Nanami?” And you laugh, before kissing him hard. You can taste the alcohol on his lips still, mixed with the aftertaste of sugar and chocolate he had at the bar most likely.
“Get it now?” And he grins, nodding, as he hangs all over you as you get him into the car with you, leaning against you as you drive home.
“So you’re gonna leave your husband for me?”
“…I might, if you ever drink again.”
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oblivious!Nanami who cannot fathom that you’d like him back let alone want him so you’re forced to get more and more obvious with your flirting.
oblivious!Nanami who you bring a coffee one morning, his name on the paper sleeve surrounded by little hearts. he doesn't even look at the cup, just gulps down the scalding coffee and thanks you quietly.
"You're very kind. I needed the caffeine."
oblivious!Nanami who drives you home when you miss the train, but politely declines your offer to come up for tea because he knows you have an early shift the next day.
“I couldn’t possibly, but thank you.”
oblivious!Nanami who is way too nice about receiving your “drunk texts”, telling you to forget the whole thing and that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
“Ah, I believe you’ve texted the wrong person. I’ll delete these. Have a fun night.”
oblivious!Nanami who agrees to come over to help you paint above your kitchen cabinets because he’s your tallest friend, who blushes at your jokes about him “falling for you” while you hold the ladder steady but doesn’t play along.
“Don’t worry, I have excellent balance.”
oblivious!Nanami who tells himself that it’s perfectly normal for you to take your top off and finish painting in a sports bra, because it’s just so hot in your house.
“Of course, I don’t mind. It is quite warm.”
oblivious!Nanami who goes home and touches himself to the thought of you, to the idea of how close you’d been, how little you’d been wearing.
“She’s so beautiful, so sweet, fuck, fuck…”
oblivious!Nanami who pictures your face when he comes into his fist, who cleans himself up guiltily and avoids you at work for the whole next week in self-imposed punishment.
“Good afternoon. Excuse me. Thank you.”
oblivious!Nanami who bites his tongue to keep from confessing when you ask him if he likes anyone, if he has a type.
“I, ah, I’m single, yes. I don’t exactly have a type.”
oblivious!Nanami whose heart sinks when you tell him that you have a crush on someone, who has to clench his fists in his pockets when you gush about them.
“I’m sure they’re wonderful. They’re a lucky person.”
oblivious!Nanami who feels the knife twist as you assure him that they are, that they’re handsome and kind and funny and brilliant, but way out of your league.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re all that and more.”
oblivious!Nanami who shakes his head in disbelief when you tell him that you don’t think they feel the same way, because you’ve dropped about a million hints and they haven’t ever reciprocated.
“That sounds frustrating. Maybe you should just tell them how you feel. At least then you’d know.”
oblivious!Nanami who thinks he’s dreaming when you lean in and press a soft, sweet kiss to his cheek, when you say that that’s very good advice, when you take his hand.
“It’s you, Kento. It’s always been.”
oblivious!Nanami who can’t hold back from kissing you, pulling you into a breathless embrace, murmuring against your lips.
“It can’t be, so long, I never imagined…”
oblivious!Nanami who lies awake in bed beside you, his mind replaying all the signals he had missed or chosen not to believe.
oblivious!Nanami who promises to make up for lost time, and never lets you doubt his love again.
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