#my superpower is being a single dad

[queenofthequillandink]

I lost all self control and started writing this on Ao3.

Another de-aged Danny au, but he's with Dan & Ellie & Jazz as well.

Jason has like just arrived back to Gotham, caused chaos in the underbelly due to well, 8 heads in a duffle bag, and is just starting his takeover of Crime Alley. It's going good, great even! And then he busts some sort of gang or smuggling ring run by people in white suits and there's... holy shit why do these four toddlers have Lazarus eyes?!

Is that a lab?! And Lazarus waters?! Jason might be a bit mad but he's not an asshole, he's not going to just leave these kids here to the streets. He can't just take them to the Batclan either, and as much as he begrudgingly trusts Talia, he sure as fuck doesn't trust Ras. Who knows what he'd do to four... what are they, pit-kids?

Now he's juggling his whole revenge-thing, running a criminal empire, taking over Gotham's underbelly, and being a single dad. At least the goonion seems to be down for helping, seeing as he's making Crime Alley safer...? .... Fuck he needs some proper sleep

[deesseshesca]

PAC : What’s your sexual power (18+)

My pantie stuck in my ASS...

Good evening pretty souls, let's find out where does your sexual power reside and what does it need ?

SALE 

Until October 31 all readings on my ko-fi is 30$, only

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION 

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 

Basing myself on the legal age in my country which is 18

PILE 1 

Devil, 6 pentacles, 8 swords,10 swords, ''I want a second chance not being with you is killing me'', ''I have abandonment issue ! I grew up in a single parent household ! I had a rough childhood ! ''

Check in : You have an disorganized attachment style. 

Golden cooch/Golden tip

Women :  The way that you give head is very out of the box. Like you have your own little routine. Your own little reputation. You play with balls and you don’t mind a hairy private area. You don’t even mind playing with your partner anus if that really makes them lose it. If you are into women, you love lapping on that clit like your life depends on it while giving innocent eyes to your partner.  

Men: You love it when it is hairy. You also enjoy when the sex smells like it has none of the chemical smelling vanilla. I’m hearing saying: ‘’ Get that shit out of here…’’ You also don’t mind using toys especially if that helps your partner climax it does not make you feel less than. You may even have a great knowledge concerning dildos. If you are into men, you are down with anything handjob to pegging. 

Both: You guys enjoy a balanced sexual relationship. Is important for you that your partner reaches their climax but it is also necessary for you to see the stars at least one time. The issue is that you cheat on yourself. You might give your partner 8 orgasms hoping is good enough for them to at least touch you down there. First, sex  should never be calculated. It should be reciprocated. Don’t give because you need but because you want. You need to find a partner as generous as you. Only generous people deserve that much pleasure. Also y’all love to use sex as a way to get your lick back. You don’t mind your person cheating on you because it is an open door for you. That back and forth is going to keep going until somebody (usually them) realizes they are getting play 2. 

💌 : You can book a reading with me. I send the product in less than 48h and here are some reviews.

PILE 2 

King cups (reverse), queen cups, Knight pentacles, 8 wands (reverse) 

Stud 4 life

Women : You hate the breeding kink. Not because you don’t find it sexy or you are not attracted to it. Just because you hate the idea of falling pregnant. Y’all may still use the pulling out method. Y’all super power is how loving you are in a sexual setting. You love kissing your partner's thighs, kissing their chest, sucking on tits (yes… even when it is a man). You love leaving tender touches and caresses. A lot of men/women fall in love with you , but you really don’t want any commitment at the moment. Is not your fault that you know how to make love and heal with your touch. Why must they cage you with all the love you have to share? 

Men: Sneaky… you don’t like pulling out. You love nutting in the hole and see the hole dripping with your cum. Is a kink for u but you can’t imagine possibly being a dad. That’s a dangerous game, pile number 2, luck can only be by your side for so long. You hate it when your partner screams another name but yours, even God. You don’t want to hear nothing but your name. You might work extra hard just to hear your name being repeated over and over again. Your superpower is that of your kind. You love going quick and hard but when the fun is over you take care of the person. Aftercare is a must. You will clean them up. No cuddle but you will make sure they get home safely. Unfortunately you deny your true feelings often. Y’all may be very attractive and you think people are only with you for the looks and the dick. Thus is not false you also don’t choose the one that will be there for your heart. The one for your heart you keep at distance. There’s girl/boy you fucked and liked but you prefer keeping them close that way than being vulnerable. 

Both: Y’all body, mind and soul is begging for a break. No more sex please. At this point the distraction don’t even fucking work no more. There’s just too much going on to bust a nut. 

💌: Y'all need to start focusing in y'all career. There's a beautiful love story waiting for you at your future job. If you need any guidance's on finding your way back on track, you can always book a reading. I send the product in less that 48h. Here are some reviews.

PILE 3 

Blue balls/ Heavy tits

9 pentacles, 8 pentacles (reverse), Judgement, 3 pentacles 

Both: Y’all can afford to reopen the door. A lot of y'all haven’t seen a dick/clit in over a year. Give it up cold turkey to focus on your career or schooling. You  now have a job , you master boundaries and did the healing. Now it is tiiiiime. You have the power of knowing. You can sense all the sexual clues from your partner from just a look. You know when someone is nervous, you know when someone prefers closing  the light, you know it all. Give it a couple sexy dates, y’all can even guess their kinks. You make the sexual act passionate, intense and smooth. A real dream came true. Contrary the same way you create a safe place with your partner. The same way you should allow yourself in that space. A lot of y’all keep your dark desire to yourself. Forcing yourself to never reach the deep desiring climax sleeping in you. Y’all want a threesome. Don’t matter 2 women, a man or 2 men with a woman, you want to be three in that bed. Some of y’all want to experience a foursome with your bestie. I just heard ‘’ No homo’’ LOOOL. In the sense that … LOL. You want your bestie and you to be fucking on 2 other bestie in the same room. Y’all pushing the concept of sharing is caring.

💌 : Y'all need to stop trying to get in bed with vampire. Y'all want to help so bad people around you that you don't mind hating the experience as long as you the other person is safe. Also, CONGRATS babes. Y'all are sober and got your life back. If you want to know about the other blessings that life as for you, you can book a reading with me. I send the product in less than 48h and here are some reviews.

[rainylana]

Patty Munson

note: a potential series if you guys want it! so please, let me know your thoughts and if you like my version of eddie’s daughter, named after pat benatar!

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, single dad!eddie, and language.

Patty Munson was the exact replica of her dad. From her looks to her attitude, you knew she was the daughter of Eddie Munson. With curly, jet black hair and doe, brown eyes, she had a spit fire attitude that raised a brow with strangers.

She didn’t like her vegetables like him, either, but Eddie always made sure she ate them off her little plate. “Eat at least some of it, Patty.” He’d say.

She started cursing at four, and though Eddie tried to correct her when she’d say something inappropriate at the age of five, he always had a laugh about it when she wasn’t around.

“Look at this crazy bastard, daddy!” She had said, holding up a fish that Uncle Wayne had helped her catch. Wayne shook his head, laughing quickly behind her with a hand to her back, making sure she didn’t slip in the mud.

“Patricia.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking from a choked laugh. “What did I say about grown up words?”

She was an extremely stubborn child. She liked doing things herself, absolutely everything. She was a daredevil, another thing she’d gotten from him. She almost always threw a fit when she had to hold his hand when crossing the street. He had just began letting her get the mail down at the driveway by herself, and she was smiling widely the whole walk down there.

Her mom had left Patty to him after she’d delivered her, and Eddie hadn’t heard from her since. It was hard raising her alone, especially in the beginning, suffering from a broken heart. If it hadn’t been for Wayne and his friends, he surely would have crumbled.

She didn’t talk much about the fact she didn’t have a mom around, but Eddie knew one day she’d start asking questions. The idea of it made him sick to his stomach.

She liked her dad’s tattoos. She colored on some of them sometimes with markers. He had outlines, line work, of tattoos that “need pretty pink color, daddy.”.

When she was a baby, she pulled on his hair all the time. Never Steve’s or Nancy’s. Always dad’s. Eddie never had trouble with the terrible two’s, however three was a particular rough age. She was sick a lot then. Nothing serious, but it always seemed she had a cold or some sort of allergy. He took of work a lot during that time and lost money he didn’t have to loose, but he made it work. He quickly learned that as a parent, you somehow always found a way to manage. It was a superpower.

She was a good kid. She didn’t cry much as a baby, and when she does cry, it’s usually when she’s tired. She hates naps, but anytime she pouts and her lip pulls down, her eyes start to water and she stomps her foot, Eddie knows she’s ready to take a nap. He can almost always bribe her to lay down with reading a story to her.

Anytime she tries a new food, he always makes sure they’re at the parking lot of the hospital, paranoid you’re going to be allergic to something he’s given you. He also learned that being a parent takes years off your life. You’re scared all the time, yet you’ve never been happier. You love like you’ve never loved before. It was the most joyous, powerful thing he’d ever felt. Patty was the love of his life.

She always wants to go to work with dad. She doesn’t like school much. Yet another thing she got from Eddie. She’s good at her letters and numbers, has friends, but more often than not she’s being send home with a note about cursing in class or saying something out of turn.

Her first day of school was hard on both of them. She didn’t understand why dad couldn’t stay. He tried to make it seem like a playdate with all her friends, just a really long play date. He almost cried on the way home, hating the way she cried with her teacher when he left. It was like that everyday for the first week of school, becoming easier over time,

The first time Eddie punished her he could barely do it. He’d told her she couldn’t watch tv before bed. She’d gotten angry and cussed at him. He almost backed down, because it was his fault she learned the words anyways. But he stayed strong, though her tears tore him up on the inside, thinking that she would hate him forever. Another thing he learned, kids got over things quickly.

Patty and Eddie were best friends, two peas in a pod. They were the dictionary definition of father and daughter. He loved nothing more on planet earth than her, and he knew now, that his life finally had meaning.

[chronically-ghosted]

Have Yourself a Moreno Little Christmas

rating: T

pairing: marcus moreno x f!reader

word count: 6K

summary: when the Morenos' happy Christmas is in jeopardy, you think quick and invite them on a trip to an old family tradition. If he’s grateful, would it be safe to tell him how you feel? But why do you think he might already know? What if he feels the same way?

warnings: heavily influenced by the movie While You Were Sleeping, your typical amount of angst for a romcom, mutual pining, ballet in the park, a moody pre-teen, brief discussions of losing a loved one (parent/partner), bad dad jokes, canoodling in the park, one steamy kiss and a few other softer ones

a/n: Happy Secret Santa @noisynaia! You had Marcus M as your number one Pedro boy of choice, and given that I’d never written for him before, I wanted to do something wholesome and sweet in the world of super heroes. The Nutcracker has always been near and dear to me so I hope you like this take on it! @pedrostories

This will be my last fic of 2023 so - much love, stay warm, and happy holidays! 🤍Masterlist

What do you get a man who has everything for Christmas? A tie? A money clip? Something aggressively manly that smells like woodsmoke, patchouli oil, and the raw sweat of a lumberjack after felling a thousand forests?

What do you get a superhero for Christmas? Indestructible tights? A decorative plaque for his swords? A life-time supply of gauze and iodine? 

What do you get for your boss, superpowered and single, with the ability to turn a paperclip into a rose? A silver ball into a flat pancake? Decorative swords into deadly weapons? What do you get him that is even remotely useful or exciting or heartwarming when he is so busy with being a single father and mentor, a symbol and an icon, all while running the world’s foremost superhero operation? 

Somehow, “world’s best boss” mug feels rather . . . subpar. 

What do you get him if he’s become one of your closest friends? When you try to wiggle some sort of information out of him about a potential gift on one of the many long nights where you’re stuck together doing paperwork for the UN and the NSA – but he is annoyingly vague. 

His daughter – a fiery mix of headstrong and thoughtful, soothed by a loving kindness that clearly runs in the family – is no help. She teases you with promises “oh yeah, definitely get him a new spatula” when you both know the man has never been anywhere near a BBQ grill. You give her the rest of the Reeses that didn’t make it into the community candy bowl anyway. 

You can’t ask for ideas from his mother, or his teammates, the security guards at the headquarter doors, anyone with eyes (who’s not ten years old) because then they’ll know, you sure of it. They’ll see and that’s just not something you can ever, ever, ever bring up because . . . 

What do you get for a man who is your boss, a superhero, a leader, a father, your boss, a very close friend, your boss, someone you very much admire . . . and as a result, have fallen deeply, painfully, achingly in love with?

Your still beating heart on a silver platter seems like the obvious choice. A bowl of your tears for unrequited love is a definitely strong second option. A lock of your hair so the FBI can easily identify you as his certifiably insane stalker – there we go, brilliant idea. 

A kiss under the mistletoe? A promise for more? 

That damned mug is looking better and better every day.

You knock three times, then one more before opening the door. Behind unnecessarily thick glasses, Marcus glances up, life returning to his face when his eyes fall on you.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but the president of Belize is on line one for you.” 

The man with sticky, molded blonde hair sitting across from Marcus turns around and smiles. His teeth are freakishly white, all stacked together in tight, proper rows. His suit, freshly pressed and clean of any evidence of interaction with the world, carries a giant button on the lapel: Vote Tine!

“President of Belize, my, my, Mr. Moreno, you are a busy man!”

Marcus stands, his gaze peeling off you to the politician in front of him. “Mr. Tine, I apologize, but I have to cut this meeting short–,”

“Ah, it’s no trouble at all!” He stands, batting his hand through the air. “Just as long as we’ll see you at the next rally, right, Marcus?” 

He holds out a perfectly square hand and with a tight-lipped grin, Marcus shakes Tine’s hand. 

“We’ll see, Senator.”

“Wonderful, wonderful, alright, I’ll get out of your hair. Mr. Moreno . . .” he bows slightly before turning in the direction of the door. You catch a glimpse of him the instant the smarmy smile slides off his face as, with wolf-ish eyes, he evaluates you from your ankles to the candy-cane broach on your chest. You don’t smile as you shut the door after him – as if you’d be bothered by greasy politicians and their wandering eyes. 

Marcus all but slumps back in his chair before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his palms.

“Every time election season comes around, they all want the Heroics’ vote. Until Miracle Guy chucks Dr. Evil through the Empire State Building and suddenly it’s ‘we need these vigilantes off our streets’ . . .” He shakes his head and slips his glasses back on, watching as you take the vacated seat. “Sorry, none of this is your problem. What does the president of Belize want?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you say, tapping the corner of your pad with your stylus, “his slogan sucks. Justine Tine – just in time. I’m not unconvinced he didn’t change his name for the sake of a cheesy one-liner.” 

A small smile cracks open the dreary look on Marcus’s face. His eyes flicker to the door. “Seems like the type, doesn’t he? I think you’re onto something.” 

“So that’s item one, for the day.” You stand, curling your pad into your arms, you lean on Marcus’s desk, knee against the edge. 

He stares intently at your face. 

“Number two, I just checked our records and there’s no Dr. Evil anywhere in our data banks. The Empire State building is safe, for now, so you can stop worrying about that.” 

You mime-checking off something on your pad and the grin on Marcus’s face softens. 

“And number three . . .” you pick up the phone on his desk, that suspiciously doesn’t have any blinking red lights. Marcus frowns, noticing this for the first time, when you lift up the receiver and drop it down. His mouth parts.

“Belize has a monarchy. A king, not a president.” 

The frown deepens. You wait. And light parts the sky. 

“Oh. Oh – you didn’t – that’s – really?”

His eyes are round, wide, relieved, and you want nothing more than to run your hands through those curls. To rub those broad shoulders loose of their tension. But rearranging meetings and make up fake world leaders to give him a break is the best you can do. 

“Yes, really. The Heroics are prepared to make a sizable donation to Tine’s cause, and he will thank us at his next rally. So, Mr. Moreno, your next meeting isn’t for another hour, how would you like to spend it?” You smile, tapping your hanging shoe on the ball of your foot. “I suggest using it to eat something. Have you eaten anything today?” 

Marcus sighs, eyes falling shut for just a moment. “What, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, would I do without you?” 

You avert your eyes before the heat in your cheeks climbs too high, his eyes on you, and you hop off his desk. 

“Would you, hmm,” you clear your throat, your voice cracking in half, “would you like me to order something and have it delivered, Mr. Moreno?” 

He’s chewing on the skin below his lip when you raise your head from the pad in your arms. Being indestructible is one thing; having his face entirely inscrutable is one of Marcus’s most impressive superpowers. He nods, the look of distant contemplation gone. He flips through a few of the notes you’ve left him on his desk – calls to return, items for next week, reports he needs to sign: busy work. 

“Yeah, uh, that’s great. Pick something up for yourself too.” 

The mood has soured and you’re not quite sure how or why it happened. A second ago Marcus looked like he was going to pick you up and twirl you around the room. Now, he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You nervously tap your stylus against your pad. 

“Yes, Mr. Moreno.” 

You turn to go, his head down, his gaze fixated on whatever isn’t you, when he calls out your name again.

“Oh, um, did you manage to get anything out of Missy abour what she wants for Christmas when she was here last Friday?” 

You pause, remembering the uncharacteristically morose girl spinning listlessly in your chair while you watched from the break room as the hot cocoa warmed up in the microwave. You’d never seen so much as a pout on the girl before and no matter what you did, she didn’t crack a single smile.

“No, she didn’t tell me anything, but . . .” Now this is the part of your job that you loathe the most: trying to figure out the line. You saw Marcus as a friend, absolutely, but it’s not like you went and played volleyball on the beach with him, or went bar-hopping, or whatever it is adults with friends do. You love Missy more than you thought you could ever care about a child who isn’t your own, but you wavered how much to press her on her mood, because how did she see you? Nothing more than her father’s employee, most likely. In the end, you ended up getting one word answers from her until Marcus left his office thirty minutes later. 

But here you go, overstepping boundaries . . .

“Mr. Moreno, is she alright? The last time she was here, she seemed . . . I don’t know, sad?”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, his eyes sharpened. You opened your mouth to profusely apologize when –

“Fuck.” Marcus tosses his glasses onto his desk and buries his head in his hands. The instinct to put your arms around him is so strong you take a step forward before you remember exactly who you are. 

How do you comfort the man you love when you shouldn’t love him at all? How do you comfort a superhero, when he’s a father first and human second?

Keeping the desk firmly between you, you drop your pad onto one of the chairs and as slowly as you dare, you touch his forearm. He leans, not away, but towards you. He lowers his arms as you keep your touch on him. You squeeze once, looking down at his hopeless expression. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with Missy?”

Marcus shifts his arm beneath your fingers, his fingers twitching, as if he wants to take your hand but instead puts his other hand over yours.

“This Christmas has just been really hard.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them: “tell me.”

He looks up at you, eyes warm and wide in a way that only his can. Indestructible in the face of evil, inscrutable with his secrets, Marcus’s greatest weakness is Missy, and he knows it. You know you’re crossing a dozen professional lines leaning over him like you are, touching him like you are, asking him to open up. But you don’t care.

He presses his lips together, hesitant. He won’t look you in the eye. “You have to understand something first. Missy’s mom loved Christmas.”

His hand over yours tightens gently as if he thinks you’re going to pull away. You hadn’t considered it but your palm went a little damp at the mention of her. 

Oh God, you’ve so played your hand wrong.

Marcus inhales, his gaze on your knuckles. “Isabel, that was her name, and every year Isabel made Christmas this big event. And every Christmas she bought Missy a little nutcracker. Missy was barely out of diapers at the time, I don’t think she even knew what they were, but she loved them. Thought they were the funniest things with their teeth and stuffy white hair . . . but he other day, going through the decoration box, Missy found them all and I guess she suddenly remembered all those Christmases with her mom and she, uh . . .” 

He taps your wrist with his thumb, a tell he has when he’s nervous. The seat squeaks slightly as he adjusts himself in it.

“I haven’t been putting out the nutcrackers that Isabel gave Missy. The Christmas after she died, I couldn’t bring myself to put out any sort of real decorations, except for the tree. Missy was so young, I don’t think she cared. But as she got older, she never asked about the nutcrackers so I hoped she just . . . forgot about them. And she did, until she found them last Friday.”

“Last Friday?” You feel like you’ve been sucking on cotton. “Before she came to the office?”

Marcus nods. 

“Oh, M-Mar-Mr. Moreno, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.” 

“She was furious that I tried to hide something of her mother’s from her. And she’s right. I was a coward.” 

This move is an intentional one. You slip your hand out from his and cup his fingers around yours, as if guiding him. He finally looks up at you, guilt and shame and grief streaking his face like blurry rain against a window pane. 

“You are the bravest man I know, Marcus Moreno. You’re a superhero and a single father. Most people can barely handle one. She’ll come around, I promise.” 

You swallow the urge to bring his knuckles to your lips, and instead squeeze both of his hands and let go. You slide away from the desk, your heart tight in your chest when his thumbs pass over the palm of your hand. The look on his face is disappointed, you want to believe.

“Thank you. For listening and, uh, everything else. You’re right. I’ll just . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll figure something out.” He leans back, elbows on the chair’s handles. Marcus Moreno, or what you know of him, doesn’t like to dwell, so you watch some of the heaviness shift from his eyes the moment he decides to change the subject. “What are you doing for Christmas? Are you staying in town? Going to see family – or a boyfriend?”

The warm in your chest, lingering from his hands, suddenly bolts across your face. “No, no, um, no, there’s no one –,” Would it be pathetic if you fanned yourself with your pad? God, how does the man work in here for hours with no fresh air? “No, I’m not going home to anyone but I am . . .”

And suddenly there it is. A solution to your Christmas present debacle and maybe a way to save Christmas for Missy Moreno.

You shake your head, beating back the rising heat in your cheeks. “Actually, are you and Missy doing anything this weekend?”

Marcus seems taken aback from this sudden turn in the conversation.

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to show you and Missy something really, really special.” 

You swear the tips of his ears go pink. “Uh, okay. Sure. I-I’ll have to clear it with Missy, but yeah, alright. What time?”

“I’ll put it in your calendar.” You smile and slip your stylus back into your pad. “Have a nice lunch, Mr. Moreno.” 

He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck as you head for the door. 

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me, Marcus? 

You pause with your handle on the door. “At least once more, Mr. Moreno.”

The mug drops to last place.

Good news. 

If you’re ever stranded on a desert island, you’ll survive because you are already intimately familiar with the taste of your own foot in your mouth.

Why did you open with “Hey Missy, your dad tells me you’ve been having a rough Christmas?” to a sullen, grieving pre-teen? 

And can time actually go slower, when the air is so stifled with tension? When you’re absolutely sure you’re breathing too loud?

You’ve been glancing at Missy in the rear view mirror for the dozenth time in twice as many miles. Her face is turned towards the window so you can’t actually see the murderous rage in her eyes, but oh wow do you feel it. Nevermind superpowers, this little girl could char you to a crisp with her eyes alone. Potential step-mom failure award goes to . . . 

“So.” Marcus clears his throat and you tear your eyes back from the back of his daughter’s head. The fraught silence of the car stretches just long enough after Marcus’s statement to grate ever so gently – “um, how do you, uh, know about this place? Wherever, we’re going.” 

You bite the corner of your mouth. Marcus doesn’t appear angry that you’ve soured the mood with Missy before the drive even began. In fact, he looks genuinely curious, the light in his eyes bright. If it weren’t for that single line between his brows, you assume nothing is wrong, but you know that almost frown. Marcus is anxious. 

Great. 

You settle back in your seat, trying to look as relaxed as you can in a pillowy jacket, your hat and gloves in Marcus’s lap, along with his own. The snow outside stopped falling only a few minutes ago, lining the trees and road with a crisp sparkling white. If anything, it ended up being a beautiful day. 

You flex your hand around the steering wheel, trying to summon courage up through your body like your lungs inhale air. 

“It’s an old family tradition, actually. My folks would take us out here every year to watch . . . to watch the show.” You glance at him briefly before checking to see if that piqued anything from the roiling black cloud in the back. It didn’t. You hadn’t told either one of the Morenos your plans for this Christmas day. “But I haven’t been back in a while.”

“Why not? And please don’t say it's because of work.” The lilt in his voice has you looking at him, long enough to watch a small smile uncurl. You really thought it was impossible for Marcus Moreno to get any cuter, but with his woolen floppy cap covering his ears and the little white bob at the end fluttering in the warm heater air, you force yourself to remember you’re driving a 3000 pound metal death machine if you stare, starry-eyed, for too long. 

“No, it’s not because of work,” you grin back and his own crosses completely across his mouth. “It’s not work related . . . but um, after my parents passed away, my brother and sister moved across the country.” Your hands crinkle around the steering wheel. “I’ve spent most of my Christmas’s alone ever since. Coming here without them, i-it felt . . . wrong.”

In the rear view mirror, you think you see her move.

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry.” The weight of Marcus’s gaze, his own planetary gravitational pull, has your nose drawing down then over. He looks genuinely regretful of your situation and you’re suddenly hit with the understanding that not only did Missy lose a mother, but Marcus lost a wife. 

Hell, maybe you can just continue up the bone and eat your whole leg while you’re at it. 

“Mhm hmm.”

The rest of the car right goes on in silence, except for the faint, ghost-like christmas carols playing from the speakers through your phone. 

When you pull off the dirt road and park your car in the cold grass with dozens of other vehicles, you can’t unbuckle fast enough. The patches of icy dead grass snap beneath your boots as you climb out of the car, and you’re struck in the face with a chilly wind. 

The words are on your tongue as you look at him over the hood of the car, the breeze snagging the little puff ball on the end of his cap, his glasses already misting over.

I’m so sorry, Marcus, this was such a bad idea. 

I don’t know how to talk about my grief or anyone else's and it’s been drowning me for years but I don’t want to pull you down with me. 

I’ll drive you anywhere you want I’m so– 

“Is this the Stanley Amphitheater?” Marcus takes off his glasses and rubs the condensation away. “This is where they have that jazz festival every summer, right?”

You’re so surprised by his tone that all you can do is blurt out: “yes.”

“So cool! I’ve actually been dying to check this place out!”

“Y-yeah?”

He smiles at you and you have to grab onto the door frame to keep your knees from buckling. 

“C’mon, Missy.” 

Tugging his hat further over his head, Marcus lopes forward and then he turns and reaches out for his daughter. The moment arcs, Missy’s stone faced glare demanding that he drop his hand, that he turn away from her, an inch away from leaving a mark that aches in a way that only a loving parent can feel from their loved child –

And she takes his hand. 

You watch them follow the crowd, blanket in hand, just a few steps behind them, and you breathe out.

Across the stone amphitheater, a low murmur of dozens of eager voices vibrate in the dugout cup of the earth. Children squirm with anticipation in their parents’ laps, couples share lingering gazes over steaming styrofoam cups of hot chocolate, an air of excitement and delight hovering between chapped lips and knitted gloves as the sun arcs lower in the sky. Just in front of the large stage, a live orchestra prepares, discordant cords breaking and rising like smoke. 

A man in a striped hat sells buttery popcorn and sweet, crunchy kettle corn in a small wooden hut a distance from the theater. A few families wait in line, children teasing one another behind their parents, their laughter light on the breezy air. 

“So, what is this?” Your head whips around at Missy’s first sentence all day. Marcus looks at you equally stunned. The blanket you’ve spread across three laps keeps you intentionally close so you have to lean back slightly to see her face.

“It’s, um–,”

“Missy, do you like ballet?” You ask

Beneath her maroon hat, her eyes lift up, her back straightening from its hunch. You wouldn’t call her look eager, but you cannot deny there’s interest. 

She nods. 

“Well, what we’re about to see is a very special ballet performance. Some people who have powers like your dad, they don’t go into crime fighting. Instead, they use their powers to make art.” 

She blinks, eyes widening. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” 

The fringe smile is hidden by a curtain of hair as Missy tilts her head down to her shoes, nodding. Marcus glances at you over the wool of her hat, surprise thinning the lines around his eyes.

“It’s getting kind of cold,” he says slowly, to no one in particular. “Anyone want some hot chocolate?”

“I do,” you wave. Missy nods, grumbling. 

Marcus waves over a woman in a striped hat as she wanders through the crowd. The metal box, hanging around her neck and strapped to her back reads, refreshments. 

He pays for three styrofoam cups just as the lights in the back of the amphitheater flicker and the orchestra winds down to silence. 

Despite the burgeoning chill in the air, and despite the grief dividing yet binding the three of you, and despite the fact that this may be your one chance for Marcus to see you as anything other than his assistant, you’re hopeful. Maybe it’s the music itself, that way that music has to ignite your soul when you need it the most, or maybe it’s the spirit of the season, but for the first time in a long, long time, you don’t feel so lonely. In fact, you can’t remember a time you’ve felt more connected than you do with the people next to you. 

Missy’s eyes are bright, flitting around the stage as if determined to not miss a single thing, the cocoa in her hands leaving a dark rim around her mouth that she is blissfully ignorant of. That already full feeling in your chest expands and you want nothing more than to hug her, hug her till she’s warm and hug her till she’s happy. Behind her, her father moves and it catches your eye.

Marcus has never looked at you before the way he is now. Inscrutable, undefined, but it packs such a punch in your chest it feels like you gulped down your entire cup of hot chocolate in one go. You turn away, fearful of what he might see in your eyes, and realize the enormity of what you feel, how it’s all consuming and tugs at you when you least expect it. 

The music begins to swell just as the sun sets and the lights at the rim of the theater fade. You take a shaky inhale – nerves and excitement and memories good and bad weighing on your shoulders. 

And then it begins to snow. 

But not from the sky and it’s not yet cold enough for the consistent sprinkle. Snowflakes tangle with your eyelashes, in the wool of your cap. Then Missy gasps as a translucent ice crystal the size of her palm trickles down into her lap. Glinting like glass, the intricate design of the crystal flashes once before disappearing – not melting – just gone. Around you, other children hold out, giggling their hands as more beautiful flakes of enormous size flutter down from the inexplicable snow drift. A few adults reach out to grab some that burst like bubbles, a wondrous awe crescendoing across the crowd. 

From the wings of the stage, a man and a woman, dressed in beautiful light blues and silvers, silks glittering with inset shimmering stones, walk across the stage, their arms moving slowly, thoughtfully. 

In sync, they coax the air and the snow follows in a dance of white. Delighted shouts rise up as the snow and ice spin together, arcing and weaving, capturing the essence of a winter wind. The pair on stage bend, their hands flung backwards in a bow and the ball of snow shatters in an icy solar flare, the million white flakes fluttering over the crowd. 

Out of the exhilarated murmur that overtakes the crowd, one noise stands out above the rest. 

Missy laughs. She laughs as she watches a snowflake melt on the end of her nose. 

You wish desperately you could squeeze her to you.

The crowd applauds the snow dancers, bowing again before exiting the stage, as a woman in black steps out. Her short-cropped hair is nearly as white as the snow still melting on the ground and her eyes are crinkled at the edges. When she speaks, her voice booms without the aid of a mic. 

“Thank you and welcome to another annual Stanley Kirby production of The Nutcracker.”

Missy’s smile doesn’t fall from her face. In fact it widens. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as you watch her from the corner of your eye.

“I’ve been directing this play for twenty years now and I can honestly say I find something new and beautiful about it every time. Winter is often seen as the end stage, symbolized through literature and poetry as the time when we humans grow old. But I like to think that doesn’t always have to be true. Spirit, however you like to think of it, is exactly that: an endurance, a bravery, a force greater than ourselves that we can either embrace or let slide through our fingers. We hope you leave today with a little bit more spirit in you. Thank you for coming and we hope you enjoy the show.” 

She bows as two men enter in from the wings, these dressed in brown and green, the crowd clapping for both the director and the new players. 

A little girl, in ballet shoes and a pink dress with ruffles, her hair down to her back and tied out of her face with a bow, joins them on the stage and sits down in the center as the heavy velvet curtains pull back to reveal a backdrop imitating a hallway. With a large door, two round, gilded mirrors and a single chair. 

The orchestra begins, the dancers lifting their hands with a wave of a conductor. 

Shadows flicker at the back of the theater, eliciting shocked, almost horrified gasps from the crowd. But you know what’s coming. You don’t turn around. You smile.

Beside you both Missy and Marcus stare, mouths open, as eleven foot tall wooden nutcrackers amble down the stone steps between the seats, their knees stocky, their weight uneven as they march towards the stage. Their giant mouths creak and groan as the switch on their backs moves without any visible force. The green and red paint shines in the lights from the stage, their silver buttons glowing like stars. The dancers in brown coax them closer with a curl of their fingers and a bend in their arms. They begin to sway and spin across the stage, their legs outstretched and their feet curved into satin shoes, the little girl paying them no mind. Instead, she gets on her knees and waves to the marching soldiers.

More awed gasps as now teddy bears then porcelain dolls, the size of elephants, follow the nutcrackers down the steps, the orchestra keeping time and building a sense of whimsy and joy. The little girl bounds to the edge of the stage as the first wave of soldiers approaches. With a kiss from her hand into the wind, the first nutcracker freezes and then shrinks, the dancer behind the girl flicking his wrist. The crowd hums with delight as the nutcracker, now the size of a toy, floats next to the chair. One by one, the little girl greets the marching toys just before they shrink and find a place next to the chair. 

With the last doll fluttering in the wind as it settles, the little girl spins and twirls until she drops into the chair and seemingly to sleep.

The crowd roars with joy, a thunderous applause swelling in the amphitheater. 

But, best of all, Missy is on her feet, cheering and clapping. Her face glows in the light of the stage, her eyes bright and hopeful, her cheeks pink and chapped. In the shadows that flicker of people moving and applauding, beyond Missy’s curly hair, Marcus stares at you in a way that makes your heart grow bigger with every beat, his own silent music swelling the cage of your ribs. 

He reaches out his hand for you and you take it. 

He keeps holding you long after Missy sits down and the ballet continues.

A nearby park has set up Christmas lights in the trees and on the pathway. Missy, after promising to stay close, has gone and disappeared in the dark, off playing with a few of the other children who stayed after the show was over. 

Families sit on benches under covered awnings, the dark night cold but not encroaching, a food truck selling churros and Mexican hot chocolate mystifying the chilly air into white puffs as they serve eager mouths and cold hands. 

You walk the lighted path with Marcus, your arm tucked up around his. 

The sounds of children laughing fill the comfortable silence between you two. 

“This is going to be embarrassingly underwhelming,” he says quietly, the warmth of his body enough to keep a shiver at bay. “But thank you. That was incredible. I mean, I’ve seen The Nutcracker before, but this . . .”

He trails off, shaking his head, awe curling his mouth open.

“It’s pretty fantastic, right?” You smile up at him and squeeze his arm. 

He closes his mouth just as his eyebrows jump.

“Kinda makes me wonder if I picked the wrong profession, if other people are using their powers like that.” 

You chuckle lowly. “Ha, as if there’s anything you could be except a superhero.” 

“What do you mean?” The tone in his voice makes you pause. Just around the curve of the path, you’re hidden by silver-dripped trees and frost-covered shrubs. No children run here and the lights on the path are muffled by the overgrowth.

His eyes are dark when you look into them, but dark in the way under the covers of your parents bed is dark, or the dark in your friend’s mouths when they’re torn open with laughter. Dark in a way that holds and comforts and sinks deep. White mist puffs from his chapped lips, nose pink and cold. The lint from his scarf has stuck to the base of his neck. 

“You have to save people. It’s who you are. I don’t believe for a second there’s any part of you that could sit by and watch terrible things happen to good people. Your powers don’t change that.” You swallow, fingering the snaps on his coat as you stand face to face, the decision to say the words on your tongue nearly splitting you apart. “You saved me. If that counts for anything. You saved me from being alone on another really shitty Christmas and I–,”

The soft but determined press of his lips against yours brings silence to the grove, your words dissipating into the air like snowflakes. The whole of the world narrows down to the sensation of his mouth on yours; you forget the cold, the chilly burn on your cheeks, the sweat on your hairline where your woolen cap sits. You forget the sound of people in the distance, forget the lights in the darkness. He kisses like he works, methodically, confidently, and with intention.

His well-kept mustache tickles your nose, his lips a little torn from the cold, but the heat of his mouth warms you to your core. He holds you, his scratchy mitten against your cheek, the rest of him staying perfectly still, letting you savor his touch, commit the shape of his mouth, and by the quietest of moans rumbling in his chest, you think he might be doing the same. 

In the split second where you think he’s going to pull back, he cups the back of your head in his glove, sealing the hair around your shoulders to the collar of your jacket. Emboldened by your soft inhale, he turns his head, opening his mouth and more of himself up to you, and you, in turn, run as far as you can with this. You slip your arms around his scarf, trying to get at the heat of his throat, as he gathers as much as he can of you into him. 

You aren’t sure who eases you both back down from the clouds, who lifts hands and pulls apart, but your mouths separate, your noses inches from each other, and great plumes of white mist rise from your heated gasps.

“So I’m not crazy,” he murmurs, his eyes nearly completely hidden behind condensation. “There is something here. You feel it too.”

“Yes, Marcus, God, yes.” You close your eyes and bump your head against his as he sniffs in the cold, his cheeks flaming.

“That’s what it takes to get you to call me Marcus, huh? A kiss that knocks your socks off?”

You shake your head, laughing, your nose seeking out the solace of his warm skin. “‘Knocks your socks off’, you’re such a dad.” 

“Yeah, I am. And you made my daughter happier than I’ve seen her in weeks. I’ll never forget that.” 

The heavy rasp of his voice has your eyes seeking out his. You can’t quite find what you’re looking for behind the glasses, but his relaxed open mouth, the tilt of his head down to you, begs for more.

“W-wait – wait, Marcus.” You fight the sudden spark of images flying across your mind; his bare hands, free of gloves and mittens and wool, lifts your shirt up and those soft lips imprint themselves on the curve of your stomach; scorching water turns his back bright red as he tugs your knees tighter around his waist don’t worry I’ve got you; waking up to him stretched out naked and loose and finally relaxed. Your heart squeezes at the mere fantasy. Everything you’ve ever wanted, inches from your outstretched fingertips. “Are you serious about this?” 

Marcus grins, kisses your nose, and pulls you in by your scarf, as if you could possibly get any closer.

“Yes, I’m sure. Very sure. I haven’t made a choice this easy in years. Wait, I want to look you in the eyes when I say this.” He lets you go only to smear the condensation away from his glasses. Remind him to wear his contacts the next time you go out in the snow. 

Next time next time next time

“There.” He slips those thick-framed glasses back over his nose and then takes your hand. He holds it near his heart. “I like you and my kid adores you. I’ve been slowly going crazy at my desk, hoping that the way you smile at me is only for me, and that you don’t know anyone else’s coffee order by heart.” You huff a laugh, if only to loosen the knot in your throat. “What? I’m serious.” He chuckles with you before taking you into your arms again. His lips are warm against your forehead. “I’ve had it bad for you ever since you started, but I never said anything because I knew you were new to the city and you didn’t need your boss crypt-keeping on you.”

“I think the correct term the kids use is just creeping, but I get your point.” You tilt your head up into his waiting gaze. Warm like chocolate. Warm like the sturdy earth. Warm like . . . “And if my employment is the only thing keeping us apart, then I totally quit.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re totally fired.” 

You both laugh into each other, mist rising from your mouths, the corners of your mouths splitting in the cold. The temperature is steadily dropping, but you can’t seem to care. In fact, one big gust of wind could blow you away, suddenly lighter than air. 

“So does this mean I don’t have to get you a World’s Greatest Boss gift?”

He kisses your cheek and you feel it in your toes. “You’ve already given me exactly what I wanted.” 

“Merry Christmas, Marcus.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

[geralts-yenn]

Believe in Me - Chapter 7

chapter warnings: oral (f receiving), vampire handling? lol, p-i-v sex, talk about vampire stuff, vampire bites, talk of violence, weapons mentioned, idk, I’m bad with warnings, tell me if I missed something

word count: 4,3k

A/N: I'm back from my summer break and this is what I brought home for you. We got a tiny bit of angst, some fluff, some smut and a lot more angst. Sorry!

Inspo board for this chapter is here

Please let me know what you think - reblogs and comments are always the way to make me happy! Tumblr only works if you reblog. Help me to keep this story alive 😘

Series Masterlist

Everything around Aurora drowned in a fog. She heard August, Charles and Melot talking. Melot shouting even, but not a single word rang through to her. The only sound she noticed was her thundering heart and a high-pitched whistle that rang through her head.

At some point, she felt hands wrapping around her shoulders, and somehow she found herself sitting on the couch in the large lounge room the next moment. There was Maria sitting next to her, holding her hand and Melot on the other side, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. 

“What’s happening next?” she heard her own voice asking, though she couldn’t remember wanting to talk at all. Melot rubbed his hand along her spine. 

“You’ll be staying here. No matter how much I want this to be wrong, August is right. You are in danger. But we’ll be working on a solution.” Aurora wasn’t happy with Melot’s answer but she trusted him and she accepted it.

Maria weighed in: “Hey, at least Charlie could convince August that I can stay with you. I won't leave you alone. Promise!” She was giving Aurora's hand a firm squeeze.

Aurora squirmed nervously on the sofa. “Uh, I might have missed parts of the conversation. Everything after August telling me I was his guest is a blur.” Her head dropped.

Melot leaned forward, pulling Aurora tighter to his side and guiding her to look at him with his fingers gently pressing on her chin. 

“August wants Charlie to be your personal bodyguard,” he explained. “I tried everything to convince him to let me do that, but August just doesn't trust me.” Frustration and anger reverberated in his voice. 

Charles took over the conversation. “I'm with you in this, okay? Don't fear that I will do anything other than protect you in any way. And I will give you two as much, uh,” he paused to share a small mischievous smile with them. “As much private space as August will allow me to.” Maria shoved an elbow into Charles' side.

“So, my dad’s a god, huh?” It should have sounded like a joke, but everyone could tell that Aurora wasn’t joking right now. She was shocked. Thirty minutes ago, she hadn’t even known gods existed. It wasn’t a far stretch, now that everyone knew about vampires. But she realized she had never thought about the existence of other unearthly creatures. 

Another time it was Charles that answered. “It was quite common a few thousand years ago that gods and humans shared their beds, and there were plenty of demigods. But there was always drama surrounding these relationships and with time, gods became more careful. They avoided getting humans pregnant. Actually, I only heard tales of half gods and I’ve been here for quite a while now.” Maria chuckled at his remark. She would have loved to ask him how long exactly, but she didn’t want to interrupt this conversation with her stupid banter. 

But Aurora was done with brooding over her situation. She really needed a break. “So my dad is some god who doesn't know about birth control, great. Do I need to know more? Do I have any superpowers? Laser eyes or something cool?” This was making Charles laugh and soon everyone joined, even Melot. 

The change of mood lifted a weight from all of their shoulders. They chose to ignore for the rest of the day the total mess that Aurora's life was and the problems that came with it. Melot wasn't supposed to work tonight, and Charlie's new job was just being with Aurora anyway.

So they ordered take out for the girls and just sat together on the couch, watching old sitcoms. They decided it was time to finally catch a breath. Melot and Aurora cuddled on the couch and listened to Maria and Charles throwing pointed remarks at each other. When Aurora was almost drifting off to sleep, Melot got up and guided her back to her room. Charles watched them getting up the stairs, giving a small nod of approval to his cousin.

“Do you want me to stay?” Melot asked, trying to hide the hope in his voice. But Aurora grabbed his shirt and pulled him into the room. “I need you to stay!” she whispered before she started kissing him. 

They both dropped on the bed. Melot did quick work with the jersey dress Aurora had hastily put on before rushing to meet August. He hummed as he took in her picture, laying in front of him, only wearing her panties. 

“You truly are a goddess!” he whispered in between pressing wet kisses over her whole body. “Let me worship you!” He rolled down the lacy fabric of her underwear and parted her legs with a gentle push at her knees. 

When Melot put his mouth on her, Aurora couldn’t help but think of what Maria had told her. ‘He really learned a thing or two over the last centuries’, she thought. Her smile only faded when she couldn’t hold back a moan any longer. His tongue was relentlessly circling her sensitive bud, only interrupting when he sucked and rolled it between his lips every now and then.

She was almost there, the tight feeling growing in her stomach, when he slipped a finger into her. 

“Oh my god! Melot!” Aurora cried out. Aurora’s eyes rolled back in her head with the way his finger just hit the right spot. And when his mouth found back to her clit, she came undone. She arched her back and her legs quivered around Melot's curls.

He got up and watched her hungrily as she lay spent on the bed.

With a blink of an eye, all his clothes were gone. Aurora gazed at the perfect body in front of her, biting her lip.

“I could get used to those vampire tricks,” she laughed.

Another blink and she was pinned against the wall. Melot held her wrists with one hand above her head while his other one took the rest of her weight effortlessly, wrapped around her thigh.

“Could you?” His voice dropped seductively. Aurora was panting as she felt his hard cock press against her. If it meant he'd take her like this, yes she could.

“Please, fuck me!” she pleaded, and Melot was eager to obey. He guided Aurora to sink down on his length. Both of them moaned into each other's mouths as Melot started to move.

Pressed against the wall, Aurora wasn't able to control anything, so she just closed her eyes and focused on taking in as much as she could of her lover. She felt Melot's cock pushing in and out, his hips crashing against her skin. His fingers digging into her flesh, his chest trapping her own frame, his soft hair brushing over her hardened buds with every jolt. She felt the sweet ache of her arms restrained in Melot's tight grip.

It didn't take long until she felt another orgasm approach. But just as she was about to fall over the edge, Melot had moved her another time. She was on the bed, on her stomach, her ass high in the air.

“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Melot purred as he was running his fingers along Aurora's sides until they rested on her cheeks. Then his cock was finally filling her again. 

His strokes were hard and fast now, almost desperate, and Aurora gasped as she felt him so incredibly deep inside of her. 

Melot bent forward, his mouth lapping and sucking at the soft skin of Aurora's neck. 

“I need to come, baby, or else I can't hold back any longer. Your scent is too sweet.” Melot snarled and as his fangs scraped along her skin she knew what he yearned for. And Aurora wanted him to pierce her flesh and drink from her. 

Instead, they both crashed their bodies frantically into each other. 

Melot laced his fingers with Aurora's and guided her hand to press down on her belly. A gasp escaped her as she felt him move inside of her.

Their desperate search for release was finally over when Aurora reached her high first and took Melot with her, her walls clenching around him. 

Melot dropped on the bed beside Aurora, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“You have no idea of how much I love you!” Melot's voice was hoarse as he told her what he wasn't afraid to admit any longer. 

Aurora enjoyed the pure bliss it was to lie in Melot's arms. Humming, she turned so that she was resting on his broad chest, her eyes locked with Melot's. His pupils were blown wide, almost no red visible any longer as he watched her.

“What is it that makes us feel this way, Melot? Is this real? It feels so real…” 

His fingers traced along her jaw.

“I don't care what it is, as long as it makes me feel the way I feel right now. My whole life, I thought some part of me was missing. And now I know it was you. With you beside me, I feel whole.”

They kissed for a while, then they made love another time. And just as they got out of the shower and thought they should get some sleep, Melot's phone rang.

With a groan, he took the call, August's name on the display a clear sign that he couldn't ignore it. He didn't say much, but the feelings reflected on his face told Aurora that Melot didn't like what the king had to say to his nephew.

After he ended the call, Melot ran a hand over his face. He dropped on the bed next to where Aurora sat. 

“I got the order to work a day shift. The Warriors of Light are up to something big. And I'm the only one who can spy on them while they expect us to hide from the sun.” 

“Wait, so you'll have to go now? You haven't slept a minute!” Aurora didn't want him to leave her. She needed him. There was still so much to resolve with August. And she was scared that Melot would put himself in danger.

“Technically, we don't need to sleep, my love. Though I have to admit a bit of rest would have been helpful.” When he looked into her wide eyes, he realized her fear. “Don't worry, it's just an observation job. I'll be back with you in no time.” Melot pressed a kiss on Aurora's forehead before he got up and started dressing. 

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Melot let Charles in, who took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace.

“You need to feed from her!” he said tonelessly. Both Melot's and Aurora's head shot up to watch Charles in shock.

“What?” Melot shouted. “August would kill him!” Aurora added. But Charles shook his head.

“Look, you've been through a lot the last few days. I guess you haven't slept in a while.” Melot nodded while Charlie continued. “I have a bad feeling about that whole Warrior of Light thing. I fear this is bigger than August thinks it is. And it's a day mission. Melot, you won't be able to get help and the sun will weaken you further.” He took a deep sigh. “Feed from her. You will need the extra strength. I will stay with you and make sure you can stop. And I make sure August won't notice.”

Aurora and Melot locked their eyes, both confused about what to do. 

“Do you really think I am incapable of handling this on my own?” Melot asked, a tint of bitterness in his voice, even if he wanted nothing more than what Charles had just suggested to him.

“No, Melot. I just don't want to take a risk. Aurora needs you. And I do, too. If her blood can help to keep you safe, we need to take that chance.” 

“He's right!” Aurora acknowledged. “Please let me help you!”

Melot's gaze fell from Aurora's face to her throat, then to Charles, who nodded at him and back to Aurora. He sat down next to her and brushed a finger over her jugular that she held exposed to him.

“I wish I could, darling, but we need to be careful. August would notice new wounds on your throat, even with your godly healing abilities.” 

He took Aurora's wrist, where August's bite was still visible as two tiny red spots.

Melot kissed the soft skin of her arm. And after checking that both Aurora and Charlie were ready, he sank his fangs into her exactly at the same place as August had done.

Aurora could feel how Melot's and her own hearts were beating in unison. A warm feeling of happiness spread in her chest. Melot's pupils were blown, even more as when they had loved each other. But this time he was able to keep himself from losing his mind. This time he was prepared for the sensation of tasting her, which made it easier for him to stop.

After a few gulps, he pulled back, licking carefully over Aurora's wounds. His hands were shaking as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly.

“Thank you!” he gasped, barely audible to Aurora. 

They held each other in a tight embrace. Aurora felt Melot's heart race in his chest, faster than a normal human would have survived. 

Then he broke away from their embrace and walked to the door. Charles was by his side the next moment, and Melot patted him on his back, “Thank you, brother.” Then his eyes locked a last time with Aurora. “I'll be back soon. I love you.” And then he left the room. 

Charles was about to follow when Aurora called after him. “Why did you do that?” she asked.

Charles sat down next to her. “Because I love him. Just don't tell anyone! Especially not him.” Both of them chuckled.

“You know, he's a different person since he has found you. And I really like seeing him that happy. I will give everything to protect you two.”

Charlie got up again. “You should get some sleep! I will wait outside until you are awake again. Then we'll see how Maria and I can distract you from missing that fool.”

It was hours later when Aurora woke up again. She found Maria and Charles on the couch. Maria straddling Charles' thighs and Charles feeding from Maria's neck, to be precise.

“Sorry! I didn't mean to disturb you!” she said, but Maria objected that she wasn't disturbing at all. “Charlie's just having breakfast,” she said with a wide smile. 

Still feeling a bit like an intruder, Aurora took her time to prepare some cereals and pour herself a cup of coffee. Then she sat down on the far side of the couch, doing her best to ignore the other two. 

When Charles was done with feeding, he left them, saying he needed to get some things done for August. 

The two other vampires that took his place in guarding Aurora were standing at the door, watching her and Maria attentively and it felt so much more awkward as with Charles. But that's what Aurora's new life looked like and she tried to ignore it as much as she could. 

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Maria was making herself comfortable on the couch by her side. 

“It's okay, I guess? Still not really comprehending that I'm imprisoned here. And it's a nice prison, to be fair. Especially when Melot is here with me. But I am still scared of what's to come.” Maria nodded sympathetically. 

The two girls did their best to avoid the topic of Aurora being a demigoddess, a dangerous weapon and the hostage of a vampire for the next few hours. Exploring the garden, the pool area and the entertainment system helped a lot to forget. But even all the advantages of being locked away in a large mansion of an unreasonably rich vampire got boring after a while. That's why Charles found them both studying when he got back to them.

“You know you can't go back to college anytime soon, right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow that made Maria roll back her eyes dramatically. “Doesn't mean she shouldn't use her brain anymore, does it?” 

Aurora would have laughed about those two, still denying that they liked each other, but as it was almost midnight by now, she was starting to get nervous. Melot's job was supposed to be done during daytime. He should have been home by now. Aurora hoped that at least Charlie had heard from him, but he had to disappoint her. “I'm sorry! I tried to call him but he wouldn't answer. He only sent me a message that he'd call back later.”

Aurora checked her own phone once more, but there weren't any messages from Melot, so she tried to distract herself by going through her essay once more. 

Another hour later, August entered the lounge room. The same as the last time she had met him, Aurora noticed that the room felt colder suddenly and a tension was filling her soul.

Everyone sank their heads as they greeted him, but August just waved with his long fingers to show them they could relax. 

When his gaze fell onto the girls, he frowned. “You won't be back to studying, Aurora. Did you not understand?” Charles chuckled and told his uncle that he already pointed this out, and Aurora saw how Maria bit her lip to suppress the same comment she had snapped at Charles earlier. 

August's eyes were still locked on Aurora and Maria. “Not to appear patronizing, but ladies, I am a person who cares very deeply about aesthetics. Would you please adjust your wardrobe to my standards? I can't accept you hanging around here in sweatpants.” He opened his wallet and took out a credit card, throwing it onto the coffee table. “Charles, could you please help them find appropriate apparel?” Without waiting for an answer, he left the room. Maria looked from Aurora to Charles and broke out in laughter. “He's serious, right?” 

Charles' smile widened. “Dead serious! He loves to gather nice-looking things around him. Go shopping, ladies!” He took Maria's laptop and opened a website full of lingerie that cost almost as much as the rent of Maria's apartment. With a wink, he turned the computer back to the girls. 

As the night went on, Aurora got more and more nervous. Melot still wasn't home, he didn't answer calls. Charles tried to calm her, saying that this wasn't something unusual. Sometimes a job just didn't work out as planned. Maria finally managed to convince Aurora that she needed some sleep when the sky was already turning bright. And Aurora drifted away to sleep way faster than she expected.

The clock on the bedside table showed 5:34pm when she woke up again. Immediately she grabbed her phone, but there were still no messages or calls. She didn't bother to get out of her pajamas. When she got out of her room, Mike got up from the chair that was standing next to her door. So it was his turn to guard her. Aurora ignored him, running down the stairs where she found Charles. 

He was running up and down the room, his phone pressed to his ear. When his eyes met Aurora's she knew immediately that Charles' patience was gone by now, too. He was looking concerned. 

“Aurora! Did he call you?” He already knew the answer but he had to ask anyway. As she shook her head and tears gathered in her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Damn! I'll talk to August! I'm taking a team to the warehouse. We'll get him.”

He was waving at Mike, who was still standing at the stairs. Even the usually so cheerful vampire had a hint of panic in his expression.

“Mikey, take her to Maria's room and keep watching them.” Mike nodded and guided Aurora back up the stairs.

Charles was gone before Aurora set her foot on the first step. He knocked at August's door, not caring that the king didn't like to be bothered in his private rooms.

“Come in, Charles!” he heard the king saying, the annoyance clearly notable in his voice.

Charles took a deep breath and opened the door. It wouldn’t be easy to talk to August, but they had to do something about Melot. No matter what caused him to stay away so long, if he were safe, he would have called by now.

“Melot and you make it quite the habit to disturb me way too early into the night. I don’t like that! So please tell me it’s something important”

August was sitting in his bed, his back rested against the headboard. Tight-lipped, he watched as Charles bowed before him.

“Melot is still not back. It’s been more than 24 hours since I last heard from him, and that was only a brief message. I really think he’s in trouble. August, please, let me take some of your men to get him.” The king brushed with his fingers over his mustache. 

“You’re not very confident in your cousin's abilities, Charles. I think we should give Melot a chance to work things out on his own.” August didn’t seem to be concerned in any way by Melot’s disappearance. Charles couldn’t believe it, and his anger made him talk without thinking.

“What’s wrong with you, August? You are always talking about us as a family. But you treat us like we are your servants. And especially Melot always gets your anger and disapproval, no matter what he does. Why can’t you be supportive of him for once? He needs your help!”

August rose from his bed and was next to Charles in a second. But to Charles surprise, he didn’t rip out his throat. Instead, he guided Charles to sit down and took the chair next to him.

“Listen, I may be appearing hostile to you, but it’s all for your own good. This is the way I support you. You are learning so much more if you can’t rely on me all the time. If you need to work out things on your own. You are important to me. All of you that I gather around me. You are my family. And Melot - he is special. He is capable of more than he knows. More than any of us knows. And with my constant criticism, I can bring him into the position that he once will need to take. He needs to find out how incredibly talented he is. I can’t do that for him.”

It isn’t very often that Charles was left speechless but at this moment he was. That was not what he had expected to hear after he had lost his temper with the king. He couldn’t believe that he wasn’t supposed to be punished for his words. 

“Thank you for your honesty, your majesty. But please let me take at least Syverson and Marshall to the warehouse and see what’s happening there. Your safety is in danger, too, as long as the Warriors of Light are still working on their plans.”

After a moment of thinking, August replied, shaking his head. “Syverson and Marshall are needed at the club. But you can take Mike and Will. Go see what is happening but don’t make it a bloodbath. We need to be careful, we’re bound to laws now. People are still fearing us and we want this to change.”

Charles was thankful that he got the approval to get Melot and he didn't want to lose another minute. "What about Aurora?" he asked, realizing that there won't be anyone to guard her.

"I will take care of her myself." August got dressed as the other vampire watched him suspiciously. "Don't look at me like this." The king chuckled deeply. "She's Melot's. I won't touch her. I'm not a monster."

It took Charles only a minute to gather everyone and everything in the living room. All sorts of weapons were splayed out on the kitchen counter. Charles, Mike and Will were dividing them amongst each other while discussing plans.

Aurora was balled up on the couch, crying her heart out, Maria giving her best to spend some comfort to her friend. August was leaning against a wall watching them all calmly.

And then there was this sound. Aurora's head shot up. Would Melot use the doorbell if he was back? Probably not, but that didn't stop her hoping that it was her boyfriend. 

Charles looked at August with a frown. "We don't often get visitors that need to use the gate." He explained to Maria and Aurora as he walked to the entrance. When he switched on the monitor, Aurora gasped.

"I need to talk to the king!" said the woman standing at the gate. Aurora started crying again.

"It's Tara. My sister." It was not the time to argue with her family about her living situation with vampires. And Charles must have thought the same. He answered through the intercom.

"Tara, Aurora is here on her own accord. We won't be discussing her decision with you. Please leave our property." But Tara was shaking her head. 

"I'm not here because of Aurora. I'm here because of Melot. He needs your help."

__________

Part 8

[pillowdrawz]

12!Donnie: So our younger selves are basically walking super weapons who can wipe every single existing creature on the planet if they wanted to?

The turtles (maybe the raphs or mikeys) who were told or found out about it: Yup

*any older* Leo: Sure they have superpowers but there's no way! *Whispers* They're to young..to fragile..

*Rise!Donnie being yeeted out his lab by a VERY worrying explosion*

Donnies: DON ARE YOU OKAY!? SOMEONE GET A MED KIT! DONNIE DON'T WORRY WE'RE COMING-

Rise: I-I'm good *casually stretches and stands up* Maybe I should just keep it at 10% power... Oh well let's clean up!

Leos: What the-

Splinters: Is everyone okay what happen!?-

Rise!Splinter: PURPLE WHAT DID YOU DO!?

Rise!Donnie:Nothing dad just another Tnt Cannon on 80.1% power!

R!Splinter: Sorry for that...

Draxum who heard their convo: Still believe my creations are as fragile as mere humans? When they were infants I made sure they can survive a nuclear explosion!

R!Splinter: I can double the proof on how my children are living beings of distruction.

Turtles (not rise): ....Can we agree to make sure to never get on their bad side? Agreed-Yup-Were still gonna protect them-I double the favor

LMAOOO YEAH BASICALLY THIS WOULD HAPPEN HAHHHA

[possiblyunhinged]

Honestly, the recent hounding of Liam Payne’s ex after his death and The Daily Mail running headline stories about the 'cancelled' Oxford student (described as a popular young woman with the world at his feet) accused of assault and ended up taking his own life… not to mention the fact that a legally defined rapist is leading one of the world’s superpowers—it’s honestly terrifying to think about what lies ahead for women.

What’s most unsettling is just how quickly open misogyny has become accepted after the election. You’ve got men blatantly saying things like ‘your body, my choice,’ and it’s not even shocking anymore—it’s more like a bitter confirmation. It’s like, yes, all my life I’ve suspected men weren’t being honest about their feelings towards women, and now, here it is, front and centre.

Even the retort that there are some 'good' men... okay, but how are they helping women? Everyone can be 'nice' in theory, but what's the fucking point if when you are directly confronted by the misogyny of your friends and family, you stay mostly silent and then run to the internet and say what a good boy you are?

I grew up with a brother, and honestly, I started resenting him pretty early on. Even back in primary school, it was obvious how he saw girls. The adults around him seemed to treat it as normal like it was just ‘boys being boys.’ The other boys he hung out with were saying the same things, and their parents would just laugh, as if hating women was just a natural part of growing up male.

We were raised by a single mum, and he saw it all. He witnessed the violence our mum went through at the hands of our Dad and how our mum still flinches when her best male friend of 50 years tries to give her a hug. How everyone blamed her for being abused, and this discomfort they'd have about her not just shutting up about it and moving on - regardless of how traumatised she was.

And yet, he’s somehow only grown more misogynistic over time.

When I left for uni and got a job in live music, I thought maybe I’d found a ‘different’ kind of man—guys who didn’t obsess over masculinity, who seemed a bit gentler. But after I was assaulted (and my autistic self couldn’t stop talking about it), it became glaringly clear just how widespread the problem was. Nearly every woman I knew had had run-ins with the same guy, or his friends.

And then there’s 4B—people keep bringing it up as if it’s some ace card against misogyny. One, way fewer women in South Korea actually practise it than you’d think, and two, men respond with scary levels of violence. It’s not a feminist victory; it’s tragic that some of us feel like the only way we’ll be safe is if we stop being romantically available altogether.

I know, I know, it’s all a bit bleak. But lately, as ‘activism’ has turned digital, I feel like we haven’t paused to ask whether any of it is actually changing things. Instead, we’re getting this heightened worldview that just doesn’t match reality anymore.

So those are my cheerful Monday thoughts! Does anyone want to take a leaf out of Mary Daly’s book and club together for an island hehe? xoxo

[artzychic27]

Would that mean they took the school field trip to Gotham instead of New York and if so how would Zoé first meet them exactly? Would they save them from a super villain when one of them could transform or accidentally bump into them during a mission because if that the case that second one would be hilarious?!

Mme. Bustier: Students, welcome to Gotham.

*Cue clown-mask wearing guys driving crazily down the road with dollar bills flying on the breeze as gunshots are fired*

Akuma Class: …

Science Kids: …

Jean: Well, I like it here.

The first few days start off fine with the students hanging out at shops, avoiding villains, eating at cool restaurants, avoiding villains, and going to the parks

But one evening, while at the hotel, the Riddler and his men break in and hold the students hostage unless they can solve his riddles (Y’know, like most Maribat fics)

Lila (Remember, this is her canon self) urges them not to say anything until she can call Batman, to which the Science Kids roll their eyes and start answering each riddle correctly while also subtly coming up with a plan to neutralize The Riddler

Jean whispers spells which cause reflective surfaces in the room to move slightly, and Marc, with his hood over his head, uses his eye beams on Reshma’s compact mirror, which bounce all across the room until they nail The Riddler in the back, knocking him out

Right at that moment, Batman and a blonde Robin arrive on the scene, and Lila takes the credit for using a “special taser” to incapacitate The Riddler

Yeah, they ain’t buying it

Anyway, they knock out The Riddler’s henchmen, avoid the press, and head off onto the night, not even bothering to keep Lila from blabbing and getting herself killed because of her “connections”

Cosette: I’ll just say what we’re all thinking… Robin was kind of hot.

Reshma: But they wore a mask.

Cosette: Hush… They were hot.

Meanwhile in the Bat Cave, Robin is going over the securty footage from the hotel when they notice something odd about the way The Riddler was taken out

They also can’t help but notice how familiar some of the Science Kids look

Batman: Huh. Does that kid with the braids remind you of Virgil Hawkins?

Robin: Other than the outdated slang? Yes. Also, that one with the red hoodie has the same color eye beams as Starfire. And tell me that brunette doesn’t have Zatanna’s eyes.

Batman: … Well, I know some people who have some explaining to do.

One night while the Akuma Class is asleep, the Science Kids decide to go out and blow off a little steam due to Lila’s non-stop talking about knowing the Bat-family and the Justice League

The city’s overrun with all sort of criminals, so who’s going to notice some superpowered teenagers?

Here’s an answer, Batman and Blonde Robin who have been keeping close tabs on them since the hostage

Ismael: *Nervous laughter* You must be wondering how I’m flying, why her skin is suddenly magenta, and how he broke the sound barrier just by running. Funny story-

Batman: You’re all coming with us.

Science Kids: Yes, sir.

After being served tea by Alfred, Batman questions them about their parentage

Lacey: That’s it? Okay, my godfather is Beast Boy since he transferred some of his blood to me after an accident, Aurore’s bio dad is Aquaman, Marc’s mom is Starfire, Denise’s… I guess, creator is Wonder Woman, Simon’s godfather is The Flash. Same deal as me. Ismael’s dad is Superman, Reshma’s mom is Poison Ivy, Cosette’s dad is Static Shock, Jean’s mom is Zatanna, and Mireille’s mom is Black Canary. This tea is amazing, by the way.

Aurore: So, is that all? Was dragging us to your brooding lair really necessary? What happens now?

Robin: I told him it was excessive.

Batman: Look, you kids can’t go out using your powers out in the open. You’re in Gotham; one of your parents enemies could make the connection.

Marc: Most of my mother’s enemies are either back in Jump City or on Tamaran.

Cosette: Ebon and Heatstroke are way out in Dakota, so I’m good.

Robin: … You single?

Cosette: What?

Robin: Nothing!

When they head back to the hotel, they discover that Robin somehow got all of their numbers and set up a group chat between the eleve of them, because they need to be around decent people their age and not those snobs at Gotham Academy

Well, they don’t mind. Now Robin can keep them up to date on any villain attacks so they can avoid it… Or help out from the shadows. Who’s gonna stop them?

When news gets out about hooded vigilantes with superpowers assisting Batman and Robin, Lila uses it to her advantage and says that Jean of all people is her boyfriend

Jean: *Loudly laughing* Oh, God! Oh, God! Please, stop it!

Lila: *Tearing up* What’s so funny? What my boyfriend and I have is beautiful!

Jean: *Rolling on the floor and crying while laughing* Stop! I’m gonna fucking bust a gut if you don’t stop!

Don’t worry, those who believe Lila aren’t complete and total assholes like in MariBat stories, so no one gets left behind on purpose when a villain tries to kill everyone in the room or steal a room key so someone has to spend their vacation in the dangerous part of Gotham… (That has happened in fics)

They just glare or tell them to knock it off because they know better than to make a scene in Gotham of all places. When they’re not doing that, they’re trying to keep Lila from telling so many people about her connections to the Bat Family

When taking a tour of a museum, it couldn’t be on a worse day when Scarecrow decides to show his face and spread his toxin throughout the building

Jean uses his magic to manipulate the air around him and the others so the toxins can’t get to them, Marc and Ismael zap any security cameras so no one sees them using their powers, and they go to kick Scarecrow’s ass while the rest are under the effects of his toxin

He didn’t exactly account for ten superhuman teenagers and became bound by a mint green cobra, punched into next week by a short guy in a cardigan, had his eardrums destroyed, and electrocuted

Batman/Robin: *Barge in wearing gas masks and crying the antidote for the Fear Toxin* What the-?

Science Kids: *Playing cards on Scarecrow’s limp body*

Aurore: And just what took you two so long?

Robin: I quit. I wanna join their team.

Batman: Not in the middle of the semester.

Just one more week until they head back to Paris. And as a special treat, the sponsor for the contest Marinette won and Lila claimed she won has surprised them all tickets to the Wayne Gala, because that’s also a thing in these fics

The Science Kids spend the day finding some fancy outfits, doing each others hair and makeup, and trying so hard to ignore Lila until she tries to get her classmates to buy her an expensive dress becuase she “left her wallet at home”

Cue Simon grabbing her wallet without anyone noticing

Simon: Here, Lila. I found this on the floor at the hotel. You should be more careful. Well, at least now Rose can buy that gorgeous dress.

Then Cosette prevents Lila from messing up Marinette’s hair dryer at the salon

Aurore keeps Nathaniel dry when Lila tries to push him in a puddle for some petty reason by diverting the water

And just to be petty, Reshma throws a few pollen bombs at Lila

Anyway, it’s the evening of the Wayne Gala, and everyone is looking gorgeous. It’s all going well, Marc musters up the courage to ask Nathaniel for a dance, Alya’s talking with Lois Lane, Robin managed to snag a dance with Cosette, no high-ranking people are buying any of Lila’s lies… Then The Joker makes an appearance

The Akuma Class start wondering if they’re cursed to just be followed by super villains no matter where they go

Since they can’t exactly sneak off without one of The Joker’s henchmen noticing, the Science Kids have no choice but to use their powers in public. And they expose Lila’s lies a bit, so that’s a bonus

Jean: Hey! Girlfriend of mine, there’s something I should tell you… *Seizes Jon Kent by the waist, dips, and kisses him for ten second* It’s not me, it’s you. Or, rather, it was never you, because I’m not dating you. *Rejoins the fight*

Jon: … Damn.

Ismael: Dude! That’s my brother!

Then, at the last second, when a bullet is about to pierce Marc, it suddenly stops in mid-air, surrounded by a black aura

The Joker’s henchmen are rounded up and bound by an unseen force while the Joker is forced into a portal leading to Arkham Asylum

Everyone’s just wondering who did that until Nino points out Nathaniel floating and surrounded by a black aura

Alix: NATH?!

Jean: I knew there was something up with him.

Kim: He’s magic?!

The fight ends with the Akuma Class crowding around Nathaniel and trying to get answers out of him until he freezes time so he can talk to the Science Kids, Batman, and Robin

Nathaniel: I always had a feeling I wasn’t the only superhuman at school.

Batman: That magic of yours. Are you-

Nathaniel: Son of Trigon, devourer of a thousand souls, conqueror of a million universes. Nice to meet you; can I have your autograph?

Denise: Uh, real quick. What about your classmates? We can’t exactly have them all knowing about us.

Nathaniel: Don’t worry. By the time I unfreeze time, they won’t remember anything within the last hour.

And they didn’t.

Long story short- Lila gets exposed, Cosette and Robin have been texting outside the group chat, Batman relented and took a selfie with the Science Kids, and that’s about it

[thenixkat]

Oh yeah, I finished the Blue Beetle 1986 run.

There was a bunch of stuff I liked. Like Ted's college roommate/bestie Takamoto. And Ted being a decent caring boss/willing to fucking throw down if you try to harm his employees. Giving ex-cons chances. Willing to look out for people's families and financially support them. And caring about homeless people (granted he failed to grasp the fact that he could infact do shit to help them).

Loved the choice to have Ted's Beetle Nest be right under the Kord Inc. building. And Ted's gods awful fashion choices, good fucking lords you have to actively try to pick colors and patterns that clash that badly. Also really like Ted with curly red hair, every other appearance of him in the DC universe should have curly red hair! It looks great and distinct.

Also the whole Ted vs Dan thing and Khaji Da being a mind controlling alien parasite trying to seduce Ted. The ending felt like a fucking cop out but most of it was fun and also Dan lasered a bunch of cops which was neat.

But there was also a bunch of stuff I hated. Like the unnecessary drama of Ted not telling his loved ones about his secret identity even when it became clear that it was causing issues. OG Ted didn't have those problems b/c he told his girlfriend/lab assistant which was hot new and spicey at the time narritively.

You could have had different more interesting drama with folks knowing! Imagine how the arc where Nixon banned superheroes b/c public opinion got turned against superheroes would have gone down if there were people who knew that Ted was a superhero? Like that fucking cop got to figure out Ted's identity but what did we get out of that other than Ted getting blackmailed by that cop to do dirty work for him?

There's a bunch of plot lines that never get resolved and as far as I know just don't get resolved due to folks not really caring about Ted's of solo run. Like, poor Mr. Calhoun does not get fucking rescued after he got horribly burned, forcibly mutated and given superpowers, then kidnapped and enslaved. I didn't see a single peep about Mr. Calhoun after the Titans told Ted to go home and things will resolve themselves eventually.

Just damn, free my mans Calhoun!

And like damn, no one at Kord Inc really thought about Jeremiah Duncan much after he got kidnapped by French people. And that doesn't sit right with me. Especially after seeing what Ted did for Angie and Calhoun when they were in trouble and even that ex-con that was trying to turn his life around. Like? The fuckle?

Also the entire ending of that run felt just ... that's both a downer ending and it didn't feel super in character. Like yer telling me Ted, Mr. 'Oh no my secretary didn't show up and didn't call out and this is very not like her I'm gonna drop by her house to see if she's ok' and Mr. 'Calhoun saved my life I'm going to ride with him to the hospital to make sure he's ok/I will fight all these fucking supervillains trying to kidnap my employee so I can get that man to a fucking hospital' would say fuck yall and dip instead of helping rebuild his company?

Sure, he's pissed off at his dad and his ex but would that spite really beat out every fuck he gives for all the other people that work for him? The folks he said were like family to him that he proved pretty well that he meant it through out the story? If he quits he cant take care of the ex-con's family like he promised to. If he quits what happens to Angie? If he quits Calhoun wont have a job to come back to and its not like he could get another after being turned into a metal skinned mutant.

Nah, I don't buy that ending.

What is Ted Kord other than a bundle of guilt and responsibility, seasoned with depression and self loathing, and covered up with a bright wrapper of quips and humor?

I'm not buying that Ted Kord would leave his people in a lurch just to spite two fuckers when he could spite them by being fucking awesome and taking care of his?

[annwayne]

@wolveria and I have been talking about a sugarbaby!au for marvel so here's some thoughts about my oc and Loki before the fic I'm writing starts :P and also I thought it'd be a fun distraction given the sad news

Some overview

My oc, Alexandria Heide, sugar name Cherry, is a high class escort/sugar baby for the richest of rich. Which, in this world, is pretty much all of the marvel crew. It's kinda like how in Leverage everyone is a famous world thief and insurance agents go to Europe to track down art thieves, just an over abundance of rich people parties and escorts and sugar babies-it's a whole industry lol. No superpowers, no world ending disasters, none of that. Just really rich people and lots of fake countries lol.

The Thoughts

Loki actually starts to get interested in Alex when he caught her grinning at an insult he said to Tony in Asgardian (she didn't list being fluent in Asgardian, maybe she's not confident in it?) He "subtly" tests her over the rest of the night, finding no other signs of her understanding the language. This is what catches his attention.

Alex keeps her civilian life completely separate from her sugar/escort life. Realizing that Loki might've noticed her react to Asgardian made her over correct so hard that it only made him more suspicious. This is the event that triggers a whole pseudo-rivarly thing they got going on.

The pseudo-rivarly is Loki attempting to find the "real" Alex, or to him, Cherry, after he asked her to "drop the escort act." She didn't drop the escort act. He's watched her with other clients, notice's how she changes her reactions and attitudes to fit them, and he sees it as a challenge.

For a little bit, their escort/client relationship is thriving. Alex actually enjoys Loki as a client (even if she wished his attempts at prying were less frequent) and especially loved the gifts he sent her. Out of all of her sugar daddies, Loki either had the same tastes as her or paid enough attention to notice her tastes. Either way, it meant she was always excited to see what he'd picked out for her.

But that couldn't last.

Around the time of @wolveria 's fic, (which takes place after Loki and Alex have a working relationship but before my fic of them) Loki is, well he's falling apart. With his escorts he's demanding, harsh, and rude. With everyone else he's angry and rash. He's having a crisis. His dad was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma.

Thor is off being Thor, the country's golden boy despite all the partying and lack of responsibility, Hela has been all but cut off from the family, and Loki is just trying to please his dad.

At some event, after Loki is a bigger ass than usual, Alex has a real conversation with Loki. She's not working, she was invited as a guest by the host. Without the escort/client relationship in the way, Loki finally gets to see the real Alex.

They have a bit of a moment. Two people seeing each other for the first time. And Alex even surprises him by ending the conversation with an Asgardian idiom.

But a single moment cannot heal a lifetime of pain.

Loki ends up blacklisted from Alex's client list. Until she ends up owing him a favor, which looks a lot like a long term escort contract with exclusivity clauses.

divider by saradika

[softquietsteadylove]

Birdie, I've got an idea for Valentine's Day! 🖤✨

Jack is asking his uncle Gilgamesh for an advice for Valentine's Day. So he and Gil are baking heart shaped cookies for their loved ones. On Valentine's Day Jack is giving his cookies to Thena because he loves his aunt very much and Phastos is complaining because he doesn't get a single heart shaped cookie.

Hugs and Love🖤✨

"Did you find out who it is?"

"No," Phastos huffed, watching from around the corner as Jack held up a decorated cookie for Gil to examine and certify. "He won't tell me."

"Perhaps it's best left alone," Ben posited from his chair, much more relaxed than his husband. "If he's not ready to tell us, he's not ready. He is only 11, habibi."

"Exactly, he's just a kid," Phastos hissed back at his partner. He looked back into the kitchen, where Jack was trying to sneak another taste of icing. At least Gil had taken seriously that Jack could not eat that much raw egg safely. He could like the cookie dough spoon, that was it. "He's too young for this."

Ben sighed, shutting his book and standing to join his husband. He slid his hand up his back gently, "well, some humans develop those kinds of feelings early. It's probably just a little crush."

"Little crush my ass," Phastos grumbled in response. He looked at Ben, "he's my kid too, and Eternals love...intensely."

Ben simply nodded, knowing very well that every bond the Eternals had tended to span thousands of years.

"Why are you spying on them?"

"F-!" Phastos sucked his lip between his teeth before he could let out a curse that would rattle even his superpowered glass windows. He glared at his sister, "T, I swear to god, okay?"

"What?" the Warrior Eternal merely blinked at him, still soft around the edges from her nap. She looked into the kitchen as well. "They seem to be enjoying themselves. What is the occasion?"

"Valentine's?" Phastos prompted, only to be met with Thena's 'statue face'. He rolled his eyes, "poor Gil, stuck with you for every damn one of 'em."

Thena pursed her lips at her brother before reaching up and pinching his side. "I will have you know, Gilgamesh prefers to take the lead on such occasions. I participate--that is enough for him."

"I'm sure it is," Ben assuaged, eager to get in between the two immortal beings who bickered like children. "Jack asked Gil for help making the cookies just after you went back to your room."

"Hm," Thena tilted her head at the scene. "Gil often makes something for this day; there is no secret to it."

"Well, this time, there was," Phastos muttered darkly, back to spying. He glared as Jack laughed and Gil patted his shoulder. Phastos turned back to Ben, "he knows I'm his dad, right? We can help him with this stuff!"

"Phastos," his husband chided instead of comforted, back to rubbing his back. "This is what it's like for kids to have uncles and aunts. They get to enjoy their company in a way that's different from ours."

"You go ask," Phastos prompted, shoving Thena away from him and in the direction of the kitchen. She glowered at him for it.

"Ask what?" she seethed at him, raising her fist to punch him in return.

Ben slid in between them again, again trying to mediate their typical family squabbles. "Who the cookies are for. He wouldn't tell when Phastos asked."

"Hm," Thena blinked, but accepted conditions. She turned away from Ben and lowered her fist, "Jack?"

Phastos kissed Ben's temple, "good save."

"Aunt Thena, you're up!" he turned in his chair, getting up on his knees and leaning against the back of it to beam at her. "Did you have a nice sleep?"

"It was lovely," she smiled down at her precious human nephew. She tilted her head, admiring the bounty behind him. "You have been making confections."

"Uncle Gil!"

"It's okay buddy, it wasn't like we were gonna be able to keep 'em secret for long," Gil chuckled as he stood from his chair. He wrapped his arm around Thena's waist, pressing his forehead to hers. "Get some rest?"

"I did," she promised her own partner and husband as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Ahem!!!"

Both Eternals parted, glaring at their agitated brother briefly. Thena looked down at Jack, who was nibbling on his little lip. "Who shall receive your hard work, Jack?"

"Well," the boy fidgeted, his expression shy. His fathers held hands behind his uncle and aunt, but Jack stood from the chair and took Thena's hand. He pulled gently, guiding her to sit where he had been. He turned the plate, on which he had arranged all the heart shaped cookies into one big heart shape. "They're for you, Aunt Thena."

Thena blinked at the platter of cookies. They were all frosted, with varying degrees of colour and skill. They were soft, white sugar cookies with red icing on them. "Me?"

"Of course," Phastos huffed behind them, but was shushed by Ben.

"Valentine's is kinda cringe, but it doesn't have to be for, like, love-stuff," Jack shrugged. "At least that's what they said at school. They said we could do something for our favourite person."

"My own son," Phastos continued to lament.

"So," Jack looked up at Gil, who nodded for him to keep going. "I asked Uncle Gil if he would help me make some cookies for you. But I cracked the eggs perfect! And I decorated all of these ones."

Thena smiled, picking up one of the more grotesque, early experiments. She took a bite, smiling as she chewed the soft, buttery cookie. "They're perfect."

"Really?" Jack lit up.

"Partake in your spoils," she said as she handed him one. "Thank you, Jack. I daresay you are my favourite as well."

"Hey Jack," Phastos inched forward as his son wolfed down one of his own cookies. "Are any of those for your old man, maybe?"

Jack just stared. "You can ask Aunt Thena."

Phastos glared at her , though. "T, remember-"

"Ben may have some."

"Oh, come on!"

Gilgamesh stood aside, laughing at Thena's innate desire to be petty with their brother. He slapped the back of Phastos' shoulder as Ben did sneak in to steal one for himself. "I mean you should've seen that coming, man."

"You guys are married," Jack gesticulated, pointing at the two couples in front of him respectively. "You got each other stuff for today, right? You don't need me to do anything."

Phastos continued to pout about how his own child made his sister cookies but none for him. But Ben smiled, "that's right, we did get each other gifts for today. It was very nice of you to make something for your Aunt Thena, Jack."

Thena moved from the chair to let Jack sit again, "but I shall need help eating all these. Jack, if you would be so kind...?"

"Sure!" It didn't take much to convince him.

Ben led Phastos into the living room to nurse his wounds, while Gil pulled Thena to his side again, further up the table. She sighed as he pressed his lips to her cheek, "is this what you did all afternoon?"

"Yep," Gil whispered. "I think he waited for you to have a nap so he could surprise you."

"It's rather sweet," she smiled at the image of her nephew enjoying a few more cookies. She looked down at this plate, decorated significantly differently. "And these?"

"For you," her lover confirmed, holding one up to display the meticulous design he'd made. "It's Australia!"

It looked like a smear of dirt in a sea of blue.

"Don't worry, I made my own preparations for today," he whispered before nipping at her ear, promising fun more than just some cookies.

"Hm," Thena purred, allowing him to kiss behind her ear and down her neck in their small window of privacy. "You do love this particular occasion."

"Damn right I do," he said against the soft skin of her shoulder, just inside the collar of her dress. "An excuse to lavish my wife with gifts and attention? And make love like wild animals-"

"AHEM!!!"

Gil sighed as he pulled away from her to also glare at Phastos, "what, dude?--don't you also have lavishing to do?"

"Not in the kitchen I don't," Phastos snapped with his hands on his hips. "None of us are having a romantic time until 9 o'clock anyway."

That was Jack's bed time.

"So we're gonna go out for a nice family dinner instead," he declared firmly, as if it were a mission order, and not an invitation to a nice restaurant. He slapped his coat over his arm, "and you two are gonna behave!"

"We always behave," Gil rolled his eyes, following Phastos into the living room and front hall to also retrieve his and Thena's coats.

"Nuh-uh, no, I mean it Gil," Phastos snapped in his brother's face as they both glared at each other amidst helping their partners into their own coats. "No ooey-gooey eyes, no playing footsies under the table, no sneakin' off to the bathroom."

"What if he has to go?" Jack asked much more innocently as he retrieved his own coat. He smiled as Thena held it out for him the same way Gil had done for her.

"That's not-" Phastos sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. "Okay, never mind, family dinner, let's go."

[sweepweep]

Ok so about Stranger Things again

1. Steve Harrington is literally living my dream of working at an ice cream parlour in a stupid little sailor uniform. I didn't know it was my dream before I saw this show.

2. Apparently the creepy mom didn't go on the date (ew) because she saw her husband sleeping with her daughter also sleeping on his lap. She went to apologize to the guy who is the same age as her daughter (I think his name is Billy) and now I don't know if she's dead or not. Like this was after Billy got taken (infected?) by the fae so he had like a day dream of slamming her head into the wall then it cuts back to her calling out his name very much alive and then he had another one that was a lot less clear but now Billy is established as an unreliable narrator so I don't know.

3. Max and Elle even after the time skip obviously were not on good terms with each other (not bad either but like awkward since when Max was first establishing herself as a character she was trying to be friends with Mike and find out what his problem was with her and Elle saw but didn't have context so she got jealous so when they finally meet Elle is really cold to her) so I love that when Elle came to her about her relationship issues (courtesy of Elle's new dad: Sheriff Hopper but Elle doesn't know that he threatened her boyfriend) and learns that Mike (Elle's boyfriend) obviouly lied about his grandmother and THINKS he did it to play dnd with his friends she's like "NUH UH GIRL. IF HE DOESN'T EXPLAIN HIMSELF OR APOLOGIZE YOU NEED TO DUMP HIS ASS. YOU CAN NOT SPEND YOUR LIFE CLINGING TO A BOY. COME ON LET'S GET YOU SOME INDIVIDUALITY. YOU EVER BEEN TO A MALL? NO, IT'S AGAINST YOUR DAD'S RULES TO GO TO PLACES WITH TOO MANY PEOPLE? YOU HAVE SUPERPOWERS, YOU'RE A BAD BITCH. WHAT'S THE WORSE THAT COULD HAPPEN? COME ON, WE'RE HAVING A GIRL'S DAY WE'RE GOING SHOPPING. WE'RE GOING TO FIND STUFF THAT FEELS LIKE 'YOU.' NOT YOUR DAD. NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. STUFF YOU LIKE. YOU LIKE THAT THING? WE'RE GETTING IT." And then they have a cute little montage of trying out clothes and buying stuff and now I am jealous of Elle's wardrobe because that is exactly how I want to dress.

4. I feel so bad for Will. Sir went through so much only for his friends to ditch or ignore him after they get girlfriends. And he's being plagued by visions of disaster again. And he's right. Again. And he says nothing. Again. Probably because his friends have probably ignored him before. And because it's been a year or something since the events of season 2 happened.

5. Dustin claims he got a girlfriend at camp at tried to contact her via radio because her parents are Mormons or something. Really sad no one believes him. He thinks they ditched him BECAUSE they don't believe him but they actually left because they had been in the middle of nowhere for hours with no response and it was getting late. Good news is he found another radio signal that peaked his interest. Bad news is he thinks they're evil because they were speaking Russian even though he can't understand a single word they're saying which is super racist of him. Worse news, he's right.

1. Yeah thats honestly so real I wish it paid a real living wage

2. Dubiously Dead

3. Wait wait stop thats really sweet

4. NOOO WHAT?! Urgh I hate that the poor guy :(

5. Guy can’t catch a break good lord

[mangio-formaggio]

by some reason so many bertha x george aus I came up with are absolutely impossible to take seriously. I don't know what's about these two makes my brain go "yeap, sure, silly is the only way to go". but in no particular order let me introduce you the beasts my imagination created recently:

1. bertha the vampire slayer and unholy in all possible ways centuries old vampire george. okay, she's a hired monster hunter cause girl (and her family) gotta eat, so naturally when the target doubles the price she was promised she lets him go alive (and horny).

2. george is a principal in little larry's elite primary school and bertha is a true soccer mom. she's on every committee possible and is a pain on george's ass, but also he's dying to channel this energy into other useful directions. or alternatively she's the principal and he's a single dad, who have a extreme workload, but yet here he is coaching the team of 6 y.olds just because she somehow talked him into it. bonus points for mr. clay filling him up on business stuff right in a middle of a game and only distracting to enthusiastic cheer when little gladys scores the gall.

3. a truly terrible modern au a la succession where everything is about money and it's a eat rich satire (I guess being reach nodays is automatically cancel the romance in my mind)

4. superhero or the incredibles au where the whole family has superpowers, but bertha and george are historically kind of anti heros. however now, when kids are facing backlash, bertha wants a rebranding for their team to fully goody good guys (at least in a public eyes).

5. parents trap au, where russells divorced ages ago (unrealistic, I know) due to focusing on careers and schedule conflicts. they didn't meet in person in years, cause it's too painful. now someone of the children is getting married and obv they both just have to be there. youth is plotting and matchmaking, but to these two it takes just a look.

[purplesurveys]

1941

How many people have you liked this year? Zero.

How many pills do you take a day?  It's the same amount of people I've liked this year.

Do you have any celebrity crushes?  Sure.

If you could have one superpower, what would it be? I love the idea of teleportation so I never have to go through traffic.

Do you put ketchup on top of your French fries or on the side?  I'd put any dip on the side, but that being said I never liked tomato ketchup and have always preferred to have my fries with mayonnaise.

Where did you last sleep other than your house?  That would be the accommodations we stayed at in Cavite, when we had an event in the area the following day.

Where did you get your last bruise from?  I can never remember where exactly all my bruises come from, but it's always because I hit myself somewhere.

Is it okay to kiss people when you’re single?  Uhhh as long as the person you're kissing is also single, I guess.

Ever worn something of the opposite sex’s clothing? I don't think so.

Do you have a secret that no one knows but you?  Sure.

Last CD you blasted through your car stereo?  Idk might've been a Beyonce album a decade ago, lol. I haven't put on a CD in a car in years – I always use Bluetooth.

How many email accounts do you have?  Not counting my work email, I have two main ones. I also have a handful extra Gmails so I can use my Google Drives connected to those accounts to dump all the excess photos and videos from my phone, lol. I'd rather have 20 Drives than pay monthly for storage.

Who is the best cook in your family? My dad and both my grandmas.

Which baby animal is your favourite?  Puppies.

Have you ever carved a pumpkin?  No not practiced here.

When is the last time you went to a carnival?  I mean I went to Bà Nà Hills last June and it felt like a carnival with all the game booths and such, even though I'm pretty sure they don't advertise themselves as a carnival.

Do you have a favourite glass, cup, or mug?  Not really, no.

What branch of science interests you the most? Biology and anatomy.

Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages?  My thesis, lol.

Twitter or Tumblr? Neither. Twitter is a gross cesspool now, and I only use Tumblr for surveys which barely makes it a favorite.

Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper?  Nope.

Favorite YouTuber? Jessica Lee!

Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend?  To an extent.

Have you ever written a love letter to someone as a joke? No.

Do you have any gay family members?  Nobody who's out, at least. But I dunno...I don't think so.

Was your first kiss romantic? Yeah.

Who was the last person to sleep over at your house?  That would be Reena.

What would you think if you found out your ex was gay?  She is, so this doesn't apply to me. I would be extremely, so very shocked though if she winds up straight. Just doesn't seem possible. She legitimately hates men to the point of misandry.

How many people has your best friend had sex with?  Just the one, I'm pretty sure.

When was the last time you had a conversation with an ex? That was like October or November of 2020.

Are you currently “appearing offline” to anybody?  I've been 'offline' on Facebook since around 2017.

What were you for Halloween last year? I can't remember what/who I went as.

Do you believe that karma can come back and slap you in the face?  Not actively, but it's possible.

Have you ever been to Texas?  I have not.

Do your siblings text you?  My sister never does, actually. She'll mostly message on Messenger.

Have you ever searched for your own house on Google Earth?   I've done that, yeah.

Did your last kiss end up with you and the person doing anything sexual?  I can't remember.

Who is your ex dating/talking to? I don't know.

Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings?  Yeah very briefly, but the room layout at the time felt forced and super cramped + my sister also hated sharing rooms lmao so that setup lasted all of like two weeks.

What happened at the last party you went to?  Rita celebrated her 25th and Jo and I just spent much of the evening catching up. We were the only two in the field of like 60 people who knew each other, so we stuck together lmao.

Have you ever completely misunderstood what somebody was saying?  Yeah.

When was the last time you felt ill? What was wrong?  A month ago, food poisoning that sucked the energy out of me. I don't know how I managed to drive myself back home as I was really feeling faint at the time. 

Who was your first best friend? Do you still speak to that person? Kaye, from kinder. We stopped talking as soon as she moved schools because there was no way to keep in contact.

Are you wearing anything that was given to you as a gift?  Sure.

What color is your jewelry box?  I don't own one.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? No, they're family.

What is your brother/sister’s favourite food?  My sister can eat tubs of Jollibee spaghetti all day every day.

Do you have any ice cream in your freezer? We don't.

In your life, who is the person that seems to understand you the most?  Probably Angela.

Does anyone know your Facebook password?  Nope.

Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum?  No.

Do you enjoy being outdoors?  Uh, sure, as long as the weather is nice. But since the weather here sucks 365 days a year, I don't usually like being outdoors lmao.

What’re some unspeakable subjects for you?  I'm an open book and can talk about anything if prompted.

[koreanbibliophilegirl]

(Some incorrect quotes specifically for my dsmp superpower AU)

(Edit: half of the quotes, starting from the 'With great power' one, are from ScatterPatter's Incorrect Quotes Generator!)

-

Purpled: You don't know anything about me!

Niki, who copied Puffy's power and read Purpled's mind, PLUS literally just caught him with a sniper rifle: I know everything about you. You are an open book written for VERY dumb children.

-

Tubbo: How did you find me?

Technoblade, salty he had to leave his library job early to clean up after him: Oh, I saw a huge explosion and wondered, Now who could that be?

-

Quackity: Are you suggesting I occasionally stray from the rule book?

Charlie, cheerfully: No. I'm suggesting you do not own a copy of the rule book, and if you do, you have certainly never opened it.

-

Niki, running on caffeine and three hours of sleep, slightly vibrating, feral look in her eyes: Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go apesh!t?

-

Skeppy: So what's it like being Purpled's sibling?

Punz: Once I asked him for a glass of water while he was mad at me, and he brought me a glass of ice and said "wait".

-

Ant, who just got back from stabbing another hero: Today is a great day.

Foolish, a hero: Hi!

Ant: My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.

-

Puffy: I'm not mad, just tell me why you had fake IDs.

Clingyduo: *incoherent mumbling*

Puffy: I'm sorry, I can't hear you.

Clingy: You have to be over 18 to hold the puppies at Petco...

Puffy:

-

(When Purpled is 9)

Punz: Why would you give Purpled a knife?!

Skeppy: He felt unsafe.

Punz: Now I feel unsafe!

Skeppy: I'm sorry.

Skeppy: ...Would you like a knife?

-

Purpled, about Tommy: Excuse me sir, that is my emotional support annoying gremlin child with no sense of self-preservation and much trauma.

-

Niki, about Fundy and Jack: Excuse me sir, those are my emotional support overworked & stressed pathetic loserguys.

-

Karl, walking into the kitchen: Babe, is something burning?

Sapnap, leaning against the kitchen counter: Just my burning love for you~ (•3<) <3

Karl: Sap, the toaster is on fire.

-

Eret: Why are you on the floor?

Foolish: I'm overworked and stressed out of my mind.

Foolish: Also I was stabbed, can you get my dad please?

-

Phil: Help me with this crossword puzzle, I need a 6-letter word for "severely lacking in communication skills even while owning a glib tongue and generally amiable demeanor".

Techno: "Wilbur".

Wilbur:

Phil: It fits!

-

George: You're under arrest for attempting to carry five people on a single motorcycle.

Tubbo: Wait.

Eryn: FIVE?!

Purpled, completely deadpan: Tommy fell off.

Glowduo: OH MY GOD, TOMMY FELL OFF.

-

Everyone, to Quackity: You have the moral backbone of a chocolate éclair.

-

Tubbo, carrying a large box: What would you say if I came home with a boxful of vigilante gadget-worthy scrap metal one day?

Alliumduo: ...What's in the box.

Alliumduo: What's in the box Tubbo.

Tubbo: I think you know.

-

Eret: Michael McChill asked me if there was even a remote possibility there's a mole feeding the villain Silver Tongue inside information, and I said "No".

Eret: You know, like a liar.

-

Tina: I'm going to defeat you with the power of friendship!

Tina: And this knife I found!

-

George: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

-

Eret: If you can't beat them, dress better than them.

-

Both Ranboo and Fundy, at some point: Turns out the bad vibes I was feeling were actually extreme psychological distress.

-

Schlatt: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

-

Fundy: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

-

Ponk: I'm gonna need a human skull, and I can't have you ask any questions why.

Kristin: Only if you also don't ask why.

Kristin: (Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls)

Kristin: Take your pick.

Ponk:

Kristin:

Ponk: This one is fine.

-

[Part 2] [Part 3]

[offmanntheoddman]

So here I am, discovering Good Omens on Amazon Prime, and enjoying it! I took my time watching the first season, taking a whole week to finish it. Now, first problem, my parents have this wonderful thing called a divorce, which means, I live with my mom one week, and then with my dad the next one. Logic, easy peasy. Thing is, my dad doesn't have Prime Video, so I gotta wait til the next week to watch season 2. Now that ain't a problem, I'm patient, I can wait.

... But usually, in these kinds of situations, I just go spoil myself with clip videos, vines, memes and animatics, because I have the superpower of not giving a single fuck about being spoiled! But here, weirdly enough, I did care, and I avoided any kind of media related to the show for the week. That tells you how much Good Omens got me hooked (mostly for the old man yaoi, but whatever)! And I managed to do it, quite easily in fact, because nearly not enough people talk about this show and it's absolutely underrated but we're not here to talk about that.

The week at my dad's place passed, and I am back at my mom's! This time, I watch the second season way faster, only 3 days to finish it, because, again, I really like it! ... So obviously that ending fucking sent me to the Netherworld, I'm not gonna spoil anything, if you want to know, watch Good Omens, it's worth it I swear, or ask someone who is actually willing to spoil you, you do you.

But you may ask me, "Why the fuck are you writing this junk for? This is basically everybody's reaction to the show, you lousy idiot, you !". Well, it's because today, the day that I watched the season 2 finale, is the day they announced that season 3 will be composed of a single, 90 minutes long, "special" episode... And to this I say that this show and its production is one hell of a emotional roller-coaster, but I would also like to kindly say if you wouldn't mind,

BULLSHIT!!!