#i was gonna give you jordan but then

[bruiseeasily]

"you can't possibly be serious." for years, serena loved the sense of home that she got from spending winter breaks in beverly hills. it wasn't as much from the warmth in the air or the palm trees, but reuniting with a friend that meant more to her than she could ever possibly put into words. layla was everything good. she made serena want to be a better person, to try at the very least. she was a breath of fresh air compared to her group of friends back in new york city. sure, blair was her best friend and the two were thick as thieves. but layla keating was the sister she never had. "that's blackmail, has anyone ever told you?" yet, she laughs. "i didn't even know you had that in film! but you've got to admit i'd be a better marissa cooper than mischa." she says with a smirk, a hand flipping her hair back.

@lingeringscars liked for a starter

[fawcetttweets]

Idea after binging the last days posts:

Either Cap saying that he is a pg-13 superhero, thank you very much to someone commenting on his censorship

Or he tweets that WTF stands for Wednesday Thursday Friday on his blog

Anyways, I hope you’re having a good day!

Pg 13

To let this go on for three years is just cruel... Also, Billy is totally messing with them and has been the entire time he's worked with the league. He got Solomon to teach him every swear word in all human languages and a few non human ones too. Billy knows exactly what he's doing. Freddy's callout was real and he's endlessly frustrated that no one will ever believe him.

Masterlist // First // Previous // Next

[lylethewaterguy]

Slides my crack ship across the table for your approval

[feng-shui71]

more catdog jordsker please please please

Sure !! plus some other doodles that oomf inspired me to do since they’re on theme

[b0ydyke]

you’re always changing, rearranging, calibrating, you think far too much

[incorrect-green-lantern-quotes]

I've come to realize from going through your blog that I know very little about the Green Lanterns (curse of being an arrowverse into a batfam fan apparently) and I really wanna know more. From both a writing perspective, because I don't want to do them dirty when using the JL for something, and also because they seem like really interesting characters?? And I've never heard most of their stories.

So what would you recommend as the entry point to getting into them?

Ough that's a difficult one to answer because with seven (eight including Alan and nine if you count Keli) Green Lanterns from Earth alone, there's a lot of different places you can start. Like I personally started reading comics just before the New 52 reboot in 2011, so everything before that I've picked up via collected TPBs or wiki summaries or sheer osmosis from the Internet lol

I'll go in reverse order, because the more recent additions have the clearest starting points. They're pretty easy to catch up on since they don't have as much history as the others.

For Jo Mullein, Far Sector (2019) serves as both introduction and solo run, and it's essential for establishing her character before tossing her into the mix with the other Green Lanterns in Geoffrey Thorne's 2021 run and Jeremy Adam's current run.

Keli Quintela (aka Teen Lantern) debuted the same year as Jo in Brian Michael Bendis's Young Justice run, but unfortunately got lost in the shuffle of juggling an ensemble cast, most of whom were already established fan favorites. So her origin story is honestly half-baked. Keli played a small part in the Thorne run but was dropped into a coma and has only just woken up. Poor girl desperately needs a good writer to give her some depth.

Simon Baz came in with the New 52 in 2011 and Jessica Cruz arrived a few years later in the Forever Evil storyline of Justice League. Core aspects of both characters were established in those comics, like Simon's cynicism and Jessica's anxiety. Personally however, I consider Sam Humphries's Green Lanterns (2016) to be where the two of them actually got character development and focus, which is why I've put the two of them together.

Kyle Rayner is where things start to get complicated, because he and the older Green Lanterns have a lot of history that predates Geoff Johns's work that, for better or worse, basically is the start of the "modern era" of GL comics. While Johns's Emotional Spectrum saga does effectively become the new foundation for the characters going forward, the first story in it is Green Lantern: Rebirth (2004). Which was written for an audience who's already familiar with the GL mythos, so it's not an ideal place to start with if you don't already know the characters.

Rather, I think the most efficient* starting point is the Emerald Twilight storyline, which begins in issue #48 of Green Lantern Volume 3 (1990). It's Kyle Rayner's origin story, so it's not hard to find collected TPBs of it, and he starts out knowing basically nothing about Green Lanterns so it's a good jumping on point for new readers.

However, Kyle's origin is inseparably tied with the fall of Hal Jordan and the Corps, so if you prefer to have more context for those characters, you might want to read Emerald Dawn I (1989) and II (1990) beforehand. A lot of the stuff from them get retconned in Johns's retelling of Hal's origins, but they're still worth a read.

With John Stewart and Guy Gardner, a lot of their characterization from the 20th century is notably different from how it is today. Part of it is the way that Geoff Johns rewrote them, part of it is how popular the JL/JLU cartoon was. This is a large reason why I'd suggest the Emotional Spectrum saga as a starting point for understanding the modern versions of these characters before going back to their older stuff from the 80s and 90s.

Hal Jordan's history makes me want to beat my head against a wall. He's been around since 1959 but so much of his early stuff is still a blur to me. Someone's probably gonna scream at me if I don't mention Hard Traveling Heroes and his friendship with Oliver Queen. A lot of his Parallax and Spectre era material doesn't take place in actual GL comics but I don't know where to read it other than Zero Hour and Final Night because those were the only TPBs available to me.

Alan Scott, being a Golden Age hero, is largely a supporting character in the JSA, though he does sometimes show up in GL stuff. He did get a miniseries recently, Alan Scott: The Green Lantern (2023), that rewrites his past as a gay man in the Cold War era.

*I say efficient because I could list a bunch of miniseries and debut issues that are historically important for each of the characters but that would make this already lengthy post at least twice as long.

Alternatively, get the 80th anniversary special from a few years back and chug that shit

[youremyonlyhope]

Me: Yeah. I'm not sure if I'll ever have the urge to go see Hadestown. Some of the casting has made me want to, but I just haven't had the time. Hadestown: Carlos Valdes will be Orpheus! Me: ... The StarKid part of my brain: *screaming* Me: ... Ok fine you might have got me this time.

[chungledown-bimothy]

Idk if you've seen it already but there's a super cute musical crossover episode between Supergirl and the flash and all the cast singers sing and it's a cute episode! Darren Criss is the villain of the day !!

i mean this in the kindest way possible, truly nothing but affection here, but who do you think you're talking to

i came to tumblr as part of the "way too invested in kurt and blaine -> gay trans man" pipeline and now am an obsessive jeremy jordan fan. of COURSE i have seen the flash season 3 episode 17 "duet" and have listened to put a little love in your heart literally a three digit number of times

music meister is my second favorite flash villain (admittedly i haven't seen past the fire few episodes of season 5) and i think about "aah! who's winn? the name is grady, i tickle the keys 'round here" so often. that accent was a Choice and i'm never gonna be over it

actually, i watched it before i even really knew who jeremy jordan was- i'd been watching it as a flash enjoyer and hadn't been watching supergirl, so the extent of my takeaway was "damn, the piano player's voice is incredible" and did not follow up on learning more about him

[aahsoka]

were supposed to memorize parts of our songs for choir by today in class and while i have practiced them at almost every possible moment and the recordings continue to ring in my head over and over im still not totally confident

[luciusime]

Apartment 21C, And The Fucker That Lives There

Bad things happened, but they weren't as permanent as Dylan thought they would be. Well, except for the arm. Fuck Monsters, and fuck loosing an arm. Spoilers, of course.

There are tags explaining what this is, but they're at the bottom. I recently finished the audio recording for a book called Fuck Monsters, which you can find on Reddit, YouTube, and Amazon should you feel like checking it out yourself. I liked it alot, made me laugh and then almost cried because how could you do this to my meow meows for real. Now that it's over, I'm writing a sorta fix-it comfort fic. I need them together and whole again. Also my AO3 iffin ya wanna read it there.

The ceiling of Dylan's new apartment is white, except for a little brown spot on the roof he tries hard not to look at. The walls are white too, and as much as he'd like to fill them with something, he really can't think of a single thing to put on them. The floors are bare too; once upon a time there might have been a rug or two, one at the door to clean shoes before you took them off, and one in the bathroom to catch water when you got out of the bath, but even though he'd moved in almost a month ago, he hadn't gotten around to going to any stores but the grocery and liquor ones. There's a tiny voice in the back of his head telling him he should be doing better, living better; but there's a louder one that yells that shitty bourbon is the answer to all of his needs.

He has the basics from his last apartment: the couch, which was brand new when it made its way to his last apartment so now it's mostly fine; his king sized bed, which was a nice bonus from the hazard pay from his last job; his dresser, which served as a kind of bookshelf for a few titles he'd picked up while at a general store getting groceries; all the stuff that went in a kitchen and a tv. All in all, everything he'd need for his "indefinite leave" which headquarters was miraculously paying for.

He hates it.

He hadn't been without a job to do in years, so he'd almost forgotten what he did before. But when he did remember, he discovered it was just more drinking. 'cept he'd had friends to drink with before all this. 

He puts his current read down on the coffee table beside him and carefully sits up, taking a moment to lament his redeveloping ability to roll off the couch before standing. He walks over to the kitchen and grabs a half empty fifth of…something, hell he doesn't know. He'd peeled the sticker off the bottle for some perceived slight while he was shit faced, and he never really bothered to look at the bottles when he bought them, only the price. Sadly, while headquarters covers his apartment and minor living expenses, booze is not among their list of covered necessities. Either way he steadies the bottle against the counter and pops the cork out, tipping his head back as he empties some more of the bottle down his throat. He sets the bottle down as he turns to the fridge.

His hand grasps the handle of the fridge, except it doesn't, and he sighs as he reaches out with his left hand. That too had been a problem for the last two months. Forgetting, feeling it when it wasn't there, face planting into doors and walls and floors when he slips up and forgets. Stopping his falls, of which there were many, had become a serious problem. He almost broke his nose the last time he'd fallen over one of his shoes that he'd left on the floor. He got more careful where he left his things after that.

Looking into said fridge, nothing strikes him as particularly appetizing. There's some sliced pineapple, milk, leftover take out, and some lunch meat. He's about to close the fridge without getting anything, but his rumbling stomach reminds him he hasn't actually eaten anything that day, so he grabs the lunch meat and closes the door with his hip. It takes some maneuvering, but he's eventually able to get his bag of lunch meat and his bottle of booze in his hand before he makes his way back over to the couch. Upon looking though, he decides the couch isn't really where he wants to be, and so he retreats to his room.

His room is dark, the blackout curtains drawn over the afternoon sun and the lights off from when he had left it that morning in a burst of surprise energy to go running. He doesn't bother turning the lights on as he walks over to his desk and sets his goods down to start his "lunch".

By the time he's done, it'd been an hour and he's thoroughly smashed. He'd gone slow with the rest of the bottle, purely because he hadn't had anything to eat that day, and because he literally could not tell you if he'd had water in the last 72 hours, so the buzz is pleasantly spread across his body and not giving him much nausea. His bag of lunch meat had run out about 5 minutes in though, so there he sits at his desk with an empty fifth and a plastic bag of nothing.

His bones creak as he stands and moves over to his bed, sprawling out as far as he can. He lets his hair dangle in his face as his eyes drift closed. For a long while he just sits there, feeling all together as pleasant as he could. It might have been seconds, it might have been minutes, but it was nowhere near hours when for the first time in 2 months, there was a knock at Dylan's door.

At first he doesn't get up, very sure that it's a door to door salesman or something of the like, but then the door is being pounded on and refusing to be ignored. Before he could get up though, the pounding stops, and a tapping on his window starts. Dylan might not have been on an assignment, a hunt, in a while, but two months is in no way enough time to erase the instincts and paranoia that had been pounded into his body during his time as an exterminator.

He crouches low to the ground, slipping the replacement he'd gotten for his beloved gun out from under the bed as he slowly backs up towards his bedroom door, intent on putting as much space between him and whatever was at his 4th story window as possible to buy him some time to think. Well, he was backing up, until another pounding starts at the door, and seconds later more tapping comes from the glass of his window. For a moment he feels something brush across the back of his head, sliding over his shoulders before entering his ears, a whisper of a whisper. He shakes it off and continues out of his room, intent on locking himself in the windowless bathroom so he can call someone from headquarters to make sure they were doing something about the current situation outside of his apartment.

Halfway down the hall however, he freezes as a voice rings out from the front door. It's scratchy and low, like years of smoking makes a voice. It isn't loud, but it projects across the threshold of his doorway nonetheless.

" I know you're in there you motherfucker, open up Dylan," and hasn't he been longing for months to hear that voice one more time, his alcohol addled mind whispers as yet again that force slides over him and into his ear. Once more he bats it off, but this time there's more than just a whisper, and Dylan thinks this might be the point at which he's lost his mind.

" I know this is overwhelming Dylan, but I promise you can open the door, no harm will come to you."

He's gonna scream, he thinks to himself as tears well in his eyes and his mind fumbles over itself to provide any and every monster it can think of that could mimic a voice like that without previous contact with the owner of the voice or someone who had met that voice. He thinks about any and every encounter he has had in the last two months, and the answer he comes up with is emptier than his work email. He grips his gun tighter as he slides down the hallway wall just around the corner of the living room.

More sounds come from the front door, this time not accompanied by the hellish knocking on his window. He buries his head in his knees as once more those voices come from his door. He pulls his arm in so his gun is pointing straight up and his elbow is resting on his knee. He wishes he had his other hand to better block off the noise.

Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real, not REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL.

" I promise this is real."

Softly, ever so softly, that same energy comes around him again, this time accompanied by a second less familiar one, and he doesn't know whether that should frighten him or reaffirm that this is, in fact, a monster come to torment him one last time now that he's down on his luck. The second one doesn't hurt though, no, it's just as gentle as the first as they roll over his mind and begin to show him things, to tell him things.

An image of that day, that horrible day, starts to play in his mind. It's from the eyes of someone else, thrust right into the center of the cluster of parasite ridden bodies, and as soon as he heard that smooth voice, like aloe over a burn, he knew that this was a memory from Theodore. He ripped free the first time, crushed Athena and watched as her look of gratitude shifted to nothing as she became a fine mist, watched as Theodore's win became temporary, then nothing at all as the world went black and all that Theodore was was ripped from his chest and made to be a part of the thing. 

Suddenly he's looking at himself, whole except for the wounds to his legs, and at the sight of those he can feel a slight pang of regret that isn't his own. Memory Dylan was propped up against the wall looking on at the destruction and creation wrought around him, and then he was once again subject to Sandra's plan. As memory Sandra slipped away from memory Dylan, part of him wants to beg her not to go, to stay with him as the end came about, but this was only a memory. He felt as that ever steady presence slipped over the thing and found Theodore.

As soon as Sandra started talking he can see Theodore from above, from behind, from in front, from below, from so many impossible angles it makes his head begin to hurt, and then just from above again as that first energy, one he's beginning to grow frighteningly fine with, settles on the best direction to view from. 

Sandra of the memory explained the plan to Theodore, going as fast as she could now that she was fading almost as quickly as her words could come. He understood just as fast, and once more he was a witness to the prowess of his former teammates. In that moment, for a brief second between bouts of grief, horror, and rage it's enough to make Dylan feel stupid, once more inadequate in the face of their genius and ability, and then he's just sad again. The second energy, one he's having to fight not to put a name to in fear he'd be gravely wrong, slides down his skull and over his back in what he thinks is supposed to be a comforting motion. Really it just sends a shiver down his spine.

As memory Theodore ripped himself free from the being's control with the help of memory Sandra, there was no sight or sound, only feeling as he boldly lashed out once, then twice as Dylan failed to hit the first time. Then a third, final lash to close the portal for good. As the world began to fade, Dylan felt as his two closest people began to do so as well, wrapped around each other so as not to truly die alone. 

What Dylan had missed as he was leaving, and the clean up crew had missed as they were coming in, was a single little light, a pure gold wrapped in brilliant silver, drifting down from the air and settling into one of many cracks and crevices of the building, one that no one had bothered to check. Slowly the one light became two, and then none at all. For a moment Dylan thinks they had finally died and found rest, but then the world started spinning, gnashing against reality in little, unnoticed ways. 

2 months, 1 month to wake up and realize they weren't dead, though it was a little longer for Sandra, and another to use that discarded, unnoticed mystery meat to make new bodies. Dylan looks up from his knees and to the door, and with all of his heart he wants to tear it open and gaze upon those two faces, but he knows what monsters are capable of, and he had taken Sandra's ashes back home for her and watched as those things tore Theodore to pieces. But as that familiar energy runs over his mind and the second slips over his body, he can't really seem to bring himself to care. He hasn't had a purpose in two months, nothing to keep him going besides the knowledge that to end himself with the last thing headquarters had authorized him to take would be giving them too much.

As he rips the door open and lays eyes on those two faces, identical to his memory, he reasons that it doesn't really matter whether or not the two outside were monsters, because really, what else does he have to live for. They're frowning as he looks at them, probably on account of the fact they can read his mind and his thoughts were pretty self-deprecating, but that doesn't even matter as he tries to wrestle them into his arm. They eventually start helping by wrapping him in their four perfectly working arms, and he starts crying in earnest once he's surrounded in their very real warmth. If he didn't know that his neighbors were at work he was sure that they would be peaking at the spectacle happening in front of his door, but there's never anyone around during the afternoon. 

One of them, Theodore he thinks, backs them into his apartment and kicks the door shut. Then in a move that is entirely Theodore, he's being hoisted into the air along with Sandra and startled out of his tears. They begin moving towards the couch, but all his mind can think about is how it's too small to comfortably fit them all in a way they could remain touching. He needed them to stay touching. He yanked on Theodore's hair slightly to get his attention before motioning towards his bedroom door. He feels Theodore slip over his mind and is grateful he won't have to talk as his breath stutters over a tearful sob. He gets the message loud and clear, and steers them towards Dylan's room. 

Theodore softly dumps Sandra and Dylan onto the bed before moving to climb in on Dylan's right. Sandra tucks her head into the left crook of Dylan's neck, pinning his arm to his side as she throws hers over him, and Theodore warps as much of the two of them as he can reach up in his arms. Dylan cries for the next 10 minutes, and the two just let him. No judgment, no probing, no words. When he's finally done he keeps his head buried in Theodore's chest so he doesn't have to look them in the eyes. Sandra runs her fingers through his hair softly as Theodore taps little nonsensical rhythms into his cheek. They don't talk, not that night, they just sit there and enjoy each other's company. Dylan hopes they never leave him like that again.

Fuck Monsters, and fuck being alone

[zhelin-thames]

Where Danny meets the rest of the Lantern Corps and causes more chaos

[Danny gets whisked away to Oa, the Green Lantern HQ.]

Danny: [looking around at glowing green architecture] Whoa, it’s like Tron threw up everywhere. Hal Jordan: [facepalming] Try not to embarrass me in front of the Guardians, okay? Danny: [grinning] No promises, Green Dad. Hal Jordan: [groaning] I’m not your dad.

[Danny Meets Kilowog]

Kilowog: What’s the deal with the glowing kid? He’s not a recruit, is he? Danny: Nope. I’m Danny, half-ghost, full-time troublemaker. Who’re you? Kilowog: Kilowog. Drill instructor for the Green Lantern Corps. Danny: [mock salute] Nice to meet you, Sergeant Glowstick. Kilowog: [laughs, clapping Danny on the back] I like this one. He’s got guts.

[Danny Learns About Other Lantern Corps]

Danny: [flipping through a hologram book] So, there are other ring colors? Hal Jordan: [sighs] Yes, but most of them are dangerous. Don’t get any ideas. Danny: [grinning] Oh, too late. A ghost-powered Lantern sounds awesome. Hal Jordan: You’re already glowing! What more do you want?!

[Danny Meets a Red Lantern]

Atrocitus: [growling, his ring glowing red with rage] Who dares step into my sector?! Danny: [floating nonchalantly] Chill, dude. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel. Atrocitus: [angrier] You mock me?! Danny: [grinning] Not my fault you’re part of the anger issues club. Do you guys hand out stress balls, or…? Hal Jordan: [grabbing Danny and pulling him away] Stop antagonizing the rage monster!

[Danny Meets a Blue Lantern]

Saint Walker: [calmly] You radiate unusual hope for someone straddling life and death. Danny: [grinning] Thanks. You radiate spa-day vibes. Saint Walker: [smiling serenely] I shall take that as a compliment.

[Danny Tries to Join the Sinestro Corps]

Danny: [looking at a yellow power ring] Fear-based powers? I scare people all the time! This would totally work for me. Sinestro: [looming] You think you’re worthy of wielding fear? Danny: [goes ghost, glowing green with a chilling aura] Boo. Sinestro: [startled] …Perhaps you are. Hal Jordan: [snatching Danny back] Absolutely not!

[Lanterns Watching Danny]

Kilowog: The kid’s like a tiny tornado of chaos. Saint Walker: And yet, there’s potential in him. Hal Jordan: Potential to give me a headache.

[Danny With the Black Lanterns]

Danny: [walking into a dark room] So, what’s the deal with these Black Lanterns? Hal Jordan: [panicking] No. Absolutely not. Get out of here now. Danny: [grinning] What? I’m technically dead. I’d fit right in. Hal Jordan: [dragging Danny away] You’re not meeting Nekron. End of discussion.

[Danny Shows Off to the Lantern Corps]

Danny: [blasting ectoplasm everywhere] My powers are cooler than your glowsticks, admit it. Kilowog: Let’s spar and find out, kid. Danny: [cracking his knuckles] Bring it on, Hulk Lite.

Danny phases through every construct Kilowog throws at him, laughing the whole time.

Hal Jordan: [watching in the background] Why do I even bother?

[Later, Back on Earth]

Tucker: You went to space and met aliens with power rings?! Danny: Yup. Turns out I’m way better at glowing than they are. Sam: Did you actually join any of the corps? Danny: [grinning] Nah, they’d never survive me.

[slasherscream]

the absolute INSANITY of the pushing your s/o away thing with the crazy ass boy gang… it’s like triggering a dog’s prey drive but for serial killers w abandonment issues

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + PUSHING THEIR HAND AWAY/REJECTING AFFECTION

❥ who gets pissed the fuck off ❥

Billy Loomis - Is irritated off rip. Billy plays it cool but he needs physical affection from you. He’s casual about it so he flies under the radar, but this is a stage five clinger. He’s always doing something small. Touching your fingers. A hand on your back. Neck. Sitting behind you instead of putting you directly in his lap. It’s little stuff. Hovering. Smack his hand away one of these times and his jaw clenches right away. “What the hell is your problem?” Please snuggle up to him and don’t start world war 3. It’s not worth the joke. 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Quick question, why do this to yourself? Kevin does not need, nor does he particularly enjoy, physical contact. Period. He is gracious enough to give you physical contact because he knows you’re built different (pathetic). For you to then turn around and spit in the face of him being kind enough to meet your needs? …. Quite crazy of you. The look he gives you is pure confusion because he’s honest to God baffled. What do you want to accomplish here? Go ahead and start begging now, because he’s not touching you for a long while. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Swings wildly between damn near dodging any physical affection you attempt to give him to hanging off you like a squid on a ship. No in-between. For you to have the audacity to reject him when he’s feeling clingy? How dare you. He doesn’t have to beg anyone for attention! Did you forget who you’re dating? Doesn’t even care if you did it with obvious playfulness. He’s sensitive. He’s tender. He’s a bitch. He goes to get up and leave entirely and you have to grab him and beg him to cuddle so this doesn’t become a week long cold war. Happy ego stroking! 

Stu Macher - What you’re not about to do is ruin his mood. Baby, he’s about to ruin yours. How about that? If you push his hands off you once he enjoys a little playful bitchiness. Playing hard to get. He likes to chase, it’s cool. Twice? Okay…. We’re irritating him. Three times? He’s gonna grab your hand, stop smiling, and stare at you. When he places his hand back where it belongs, on your thigh, don’t act up again. He could make your whole week go to shit. Don’t start wars you won’t win. He’s the king of playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes. 

Nathan Prescott - Has to bluster and get visibly pissed off because he is rejection sensitive to a degree that is astounding, frankly. Let you see him upset after he tried to be affectionate and you said no? Hah! Not fucking likely. Being physically affectionate in the first place doesn’t come easy to him. Quality time is more his speed. Even worse if it wasn’t a sexual advance he was making. He tried to wrap an arm around you and you shrug him off? You’ll be lucky to get a hello out of him for the next week. Good luck soldier.

David Mccall - Outwardly, he pretends to be despondent and sheepish when you bat his hand away. He’s using sadness as a shield. If he’s sad then you might feel bad and give in. He’ll use any tool in his arsenal to get his way. One of his greatest skills is speaking in a soft voice, just shy of how you’d speak to a toddler, and telling you: “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” This is all to hide the fact that you rejecting him in any way, shape, or form makes him so angry he can barely think. You might be able to catch the rage hidden behind the veil. If you’re quick enough. David puts on a convincing show, but his gentle smile is twitching at the edges.

❥ who gets sad and mopey ❥

Jordan Li - Oh you pushed them away? No, that’s cool, it’s totally fine. You can want space. Everyone’s entitled to their own space bubble. Of course. Are you having a bad day? Are you mad at them? Did they do something wrong? Did they piss you off? These are the types of questions Jordan is going to “casually” ask for the next ten minutes while they sit really close to you. They’re not touching you! They always sit with their legs spread so wide. Their arm isn’t around you, it’s on the back of the couch. You’re nitpicking here, babe. They’re staring at you with their big brown eyes. No, they didn’t get any closer while you weren’t looking. 

Josh Washington - Why would you do this to him? Don’t push his hand off you unless you mean it or you’re being obviously playful about it. If you pretend to be mad at him while you do it, no matter how unconvincing of an actor you are, he will believe you. Sensitive king. He also won’t go to touch you again until you initiate the contact. Physical touch is reassuring and comforting to him but even he (category five clinger) gets touch aversion at times. As observant as he is, he knows some people are uncomfortable asserting their boundaries, so they’ll try to soften the blow of saying no by being “playful”. He cannot take the risk! You could mean it but don’t want to hurt his feelings. Josh interprets many playful no’s as real ones. Better safe than sorry.

❥ secret third worse thing ❥

Sebastian Valmont - Doesn’t take it for anything more than what it is. If you’re being playful he recognizes it. If you’re seriously not wanting to be touched at any given moment he understands that as well. However, in the case of being playful, you’ve started a war you can’t win. Because, as much as Sebastian enjoys chasing you…  Sebastian also likes to be chased. Ten minutes from now you’ll go to give Sebastian’s cheek a kiss and he’s going to dodge you. Hard. To such an extent it’s bordering on insult. He’ll be wearing a cat that got the canary grin all the while. 

Jason Dean/JD - Doesn’t take you seriously even if you are dead serious. I’m sorry, you’ve discovered his worst character trait by far. Most boundaries are a joke to him. He always wants to touch you. He loves you! He craves you like a drug. You should feel the same for him, in equal measure and desperation. So why wouldn’t you want him touching you? Holding you close. He’s so gentle with you (usually). His arms should feel like home. No matter how long a day you’ve had. No matter how overwhelmed you might be with sound, sight, touch. In JD’s eyes you’re one soul in two bodies. He always wants you near. He knows you want the same. You’re just a little dramatic sometimes.

[venuslarkspur]

Batsis And The Concerning Dating History

Summary: Some incorrect quotes of Batfam finding out about Batsis!Reader’s dating history.

Warning: Minor NSFW.

————————

Bruce: Are we gonna talk about it?

Batsis: about my date with Diana? Yeah it went well.

Damian: No sister, your peculiar dating history.

Dick: Yeah, remember when you dated the Green Lantern?

Batsis: Wait before we get into it, which one?

Jason: Tf you mean which one?

Damian: I agree with Todd, what do you mean by that sister?

Batsis: Which Green Lantern?

Batfam: …

Bruce: Y/n how many Green Lanterns have you been with?!

Batsis: Well technically, two.

Jason: I'm sorry, technically?

Batsis: Well yeah, I dated Hal Jordan, hooked up with-

Jason: YOU SLEPT WITH KYLE!?

Batsis: I was about to say Guy but sure Kyle was coming next anyway.

Bruce: I am appalled.

Batsis: And don't ask about John, I still think about him sometimes.. *literally starts tearing up*

Dick: Awh you miss him that bad? :(

Damian: What's even happening anymore?

————————

Dick: How was your date with Diana?

Batsis: Good thank you! It's nice to have a supportive person in the house. It went good but I think we are just gonna keep it platonic.

Dick: Okay, fair enough.

Batsis: But on a serious note I think Roy and I are going to give it another go. 

Dick: Did he bait you with Lian?

Batsis: No but it doesn’t hurt that she already sees me as her mother, no to mention Roy and I do this crazy posit-

Dick: Too much information!

———————

Tim: Why is this in your room? *holding up a dusty, button up shirt.*

Batsis: Oh shit, I think it’s from when I was dating John Constantine, you know him right? He must of left it here.

Tim: I would ask but you’ll probably go into too much detail for my liking.

Batsis: Oh my gosh the things we got up to in here Tim-

Tim literally traumatised: I’m leaving now, *plugs his ears*

Batsis: … Good I thought he would never leave. *starts messaging Roy asking when she can come over*

———————

Goodnight everyone <3

[witherby]

Mother Hen Hal skit perhaps...? Since you said you are up for writing anything, can i recommend some silly mother hen Hal? :3/nf/silly

Y'know what hell yeah. Hal is Mom, and that's canon now.

Also, it doesn't really make sense for me to use the infant gif for Flittermouse when they inevitably get older. Does this one work for you guys? Let me know. I might fiddle around until I find something suitable.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen

Masterlist is Here!

"Ah-ah! Put it down."

You freeze, one hand curled around the handle of the popsicle you were trying to sneak before dinner.

"I'm not a motion sensor, kid. I can still see you if you're standing still. Put. It. Down. If you want a snack then there's a fruit bowl on the counter."

You huff and put the popsicle back in the freezer, stomping over to the bowl to snatch an orange. "Fine."

"What was that?"

You grimace. "Yes, mama."

Hal narrows his eyes at you and holds out his hand. You approach him from where he's leaning against the doorway and hand the orange over, and he starts to peel it for you.

"Kids these days, gettin' sassier and sassier. Y'know when I was young my dad would pop me on the mouth for backtalk."

"Thank goodness you're not your dad," you say, taking it back and stepping into his shadow to let it pull you into the dark. "Thanks, mama."

"Uh huh," he sighs, but his expression is fond as he watches you disappear. He shakes his head and grabs a banana for himself. "Goofy kid. They should be grateful I found 'em in the act and not Alfred."

--

"Disarm that, please."

Jason glances up at Hal from where he's sitting on his bed, currently taking inventory of his ammo and checking the condition of his guns.

"Uh, 'scuse me?"

"You know your dad's rule. No guns in the house. If you wanna keep it upstairs, you've gotta disassemble it."

"Oh," Jason says, scoffing, "what, like I'm gonna suit up and shoot up the place? I'm an asshole, but I'm not that big an asshole."

"Everyone trusts you, Jaybird," Hal says, "but even the best-maintained guns can misfire. A warped firing pin here, too much gunpowder in a bullet there, a hair trigger —"

"You think I'm running around with shitty equipment like an amateur, Jordan?" Jason sneers and picks up one of his pistols, aiming it at Hal's head. It doesn't have any bullets in it, but fear factor is half of his job. "You think this could go off willy-nilly 'cause I dunno how to take care of my toys? Huh? Just because you're fucking Bruce doesn't mean you get to call any shots in this house —"

A green hammer materializes faster than Jason can blink and smacks the gun from his hand. He hisses flexes his fingers, glaring, only lean back when he suddenly finds Hal glaring down at him less than a foot away from the edge of the bed.

"I'm not playing this game with you, Jason Todd-Wayne," he says. The boy actually feels sweat pooling on the back of his neck. "I have to go pick your brother up from school, and when I come back these guns are either going to be in the cave, or disassembled in your bedroom."

"...yes, ma," Jason mumbles. Hal nods once, gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, and leaves the room.

--

Tim doesn't glance up when he hears footsteps descending the cave. He keeps scrolling through the security footage from the most recent bank heist on the batcomputer, trying and failing to figure out exactly what the hell Two-Face would want with that many uncut diamonds. Money tends to play very little factor in his scheme of the week, so why —

"Bed time."

"Crime never sleeps," Tim mumbles, rubbing his burning eyes and reaching for the can of Monster on the desk. Another hand swipes it away first, and he scowls. "I'll head up in, like, an hour." He squints when he thinks he sees a partial blueprint sticking out of Two-Face's pocket. "Like two hours."

"Nuh-uh. The one and only time I fell for that, you stayed awake for another fifty hours before we caught onto you. No more computer tonight."

"And I cracked that case fifty hours faster than I would've if I'd slept."

Hal scruffs Tim, hoisting him into the air by the back of his shirt and turning to go back up the staircase.

"Hal! Okay, I'm serious this time, twenty minutes so I can mark my place and —"

"Bed time," Hal hisses. "It is three in the morning and I have to get up at five. Do not test my patience right now."

"Yes, mom," Tim immediately says, eyes wide. He wants to scan that blueprint, but he wants to avoid getting on a sleep-deprived Hal's bad side even more. "Bed time."

Hal nods and carts him off to his room, tucking Tim in and giving him a pointed goodnight before leaving.

--

Dick knows better than to fight Hal when he puts his foot down for something. Bruce he can gradually wheedle into submission, especially if he calls him Dad and gives him big puppy eyes, but Hal is a demon and seemingly immune to all forms of sucking up.

So when he slips out of his window and into the garden, trying to sneak away to go back to Blüdhaven, he runs into Hal and immediately turns back around.

"Smart move. Get back in bed and I'll have Alfred make sure you didn't pop your stitches crawling down the wall like an idiot just now."

"Yes, mum. Sorry, mum."

--

"Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne!"

"Oh, fuck."

Nothing but ice-cold dread zips up and down that boy's spine. He darts out of his room and down the stairs, running from room to room until he finds Hal standing in the vestibule with blood at his feet and a nasty snake bite on his arm. The culprit is trapped in a constructed box several feet away.

"Is it venomous." Hal asks, tone flat.

"No, Mother," Damian says, standing at attention directly in front of him. He keeps his hands in his pockets to stop them from trembling.

"Is there more than one."

"No, Mother."

"Will you have it re-homed by tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother."

"Are you going to start asking for permission before bringing more animals home."

"..."

"Damian."

"Yes, Mother."

Hal steps forward with his good hand and gently cups Damian's cheek.

"Do you understand why I'm upset?" He asks, gentler. Damian nods. "Okay. All I'll say is that I'm glad it was me this happened to, and not any of your siblings. I think you really would've frightened Mouse if they got bit."

Damian's eyes widen briefly, not having considered such a consequence. He stiffens and avoids eye contact.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. Hal opens his arms and Damian goes in easily for the offered hug. "I'll get rid of Piper tonight."

"Good. I'm sorry you can't keep her, pal, but it's too dangerous to let it roam the grounds like that. Plus, this bite really smarts. If you're hell-bent on a snake, maybe you can get a small one in, like, a month for your birthday. Real small. Like a hog-nose. Or a corn snake."

"Fine," Damian mumbles, but the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. "I'll fetch the first aid kit for you."

"Thanks, 'ppreciate it."

--

"Oh, dearest husband of mine."

Bruce maintains a front of stoic calm, unmoving and unaffected by the saccharine pitch of Hal's voice. He continues stitching himself up in the batcave's med room and doesn't look up when a pair of green boots enters his periphery.

"Can you answer a question for me?"

"Yeah, shoot," Bruce says, proud that his voice didn't waver.

"What's the thermal rating on the latest iteration of your suit?"

Bruce glances at the jar of burn cream he hasn't cracked open yet to treat the massive wound on his side. A bead of sweat forms on his temple.

"It's —"

"Is it high enough to withstand a condensed, point-blank blast directly from the sun?"

He doesn't respond. Bruce finishes his stitch job and ties it off, then reaches over for the jar. Hal snatches it.

"Answer the question, Wayne."

Bruce swallows thickly. "No. It's not thermally rated high enough to withstand a condensed blast as powerful as the sun, obviously."

"Obvi — oh. Okay, it was obvious. I'm glad it was obvious. That's fantastic. I just have a follow-up question, then."

The jar creaks in Hal's grip. His free hand is clenched in a tight fist.

"If you knew your suit wasn't sturdy enough to take a blast like that, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STEP IN FRONT OF IT!?"

Bruce clears his throat. "It was going to hit you, and you weren't watching your six."

"I AM ENCASED IN A MAGIC GLOWING SUIT MADE OF WILLPOWER, BRUCE. I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE. YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND IN LEATHER AND KEVLAR."

Bruce slides off the table, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. A pair of green arms hook him under his armpits and heave him back onto it with a not-so-gentle thud, and he winces when it aggravates his injury. "Hal, stop shouting. I already have Tinnitus and this isn't helping."

"Oh, your poor ears," Hal coos, stepping between Bruce's legs. He sets the jar down and gingerly cups Bruce's ears, pouting. "I'll speak softly so I don't cause you further pain. Y'know, like the massive fucking burn in your side from GETTING BLASTED BY A SUN RAY."

"I'm not going to apologize!"

Hal snaps his mouth shut, glaring at Bruce. "What."

"I'm not going to apologize for protecting you." Bruce's hands cover Hal's. He brings them down to his lap, interlacing their fingers and squeezing tightly. "It's very statistically probable I'm going to do it again, as a matter of fact. And I'll keep doing it as long as I think you need to be protected."

He thumbs over the golden band on Hal's left hand, and the edge of the Green Lantern ring on his right.

"Because that's what I promised you when we got married. That as long as I have a body that moves, and lungs that breathe air, and a mind that can think, I will move and breathe and think in whatever way guarantees your health and happiness."

"Collecting battle scars like bottle pops doesn't make me happy, Bruce," Hal murmurs. "One day I'm gonna check my six and find you on the ground like I did today, and one day you're not gonna get back up again."

"That's the risk we take every time we suit up," Bruce sighs. "People in our line of work seldom make it to retirement age, love."

Hal lifts his hands to cup the back of Bruce's head and draw him into a kiss. There's a subtle tremble in his body that Bruce does his best to soothe with pliant lips and a skilled tongue.

"I'm going to help you with the burn," Hal mumbles against his lips, "then we're going upstairs for movie night, and I'm picking this time. And by then, maybe I'll have decided if you get to sleep in our bed or on the couch tonight."

"Yes, mom," Bruce mutters back, grinning. He hisses when Hal flicks his wound. "Sorry."

[luveline]

Hi jadeeeee I have a request for coworker James! Another man whether it’s at work or somewhere else starts hitting on reader and James get jealous and realizes he hates seeing her with other guys

ty for requesting 💌 fem

It’s another sunny day at the office, but today is the day the vending machine men come in and fill them, so it’s not all bad. The doors and windows are wide open, the air is fresh and clean. 

“It’s too hot,” Remus complains without any real passion. 

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius says, though he raises his hand to begin fanning Remus anyhow. “It feels hotter than it is because of the humidity.” 

“I feel amazing,” James says. He gives you a nudge with his shoe, his hair tickling his neck as he leans back in his chair. “It’s not that hot, is it?” 

“It’s boiling,” you say. 

You were never going to agree with him. It could be sub zero and you’d tell him you were on fire. James rolls his eyes at you and continues a rather lavish existence of sun, breeze, and cold grapes, their crisp insides popping between his teeth. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

James lifts his head. 

“That’s okay,” Jordan says, to James’ immediate affront. There’s no need for the man in charge of maintaining the vending machine to be talking to you in that tone. It’s bordering too sweet. 

“I’m always in your way,” you laugh. 

“You? In my way? Never.” 

You turn to Remus with an obvious expression. Is he flirting with me? it says. 

Remus looks at James —what the fuck?— before he gives you a tentative back and forth of his head, weighing it up. He shrugs. 

James shakes his head resolutely. 

You give them both the silent version of I understand and settle down in your seat again. The vending machine guy (what’s his name again? James can’t remember) pops open the front cover of the machine and takes out the change box. Clearly, he doesn’t categorise you or the boys as a risk of burglary. 

“So,” Jordan says, “how was your weekend? Did you do much?” 

“In this weather?” you ask with light-humoured sarcasm. “I went on a couple of walks, nothing huge. How about you?” 

“Went to a couple of matches.” 

“Rugby or football?” 

“Rugby, always.” 

James feels the pressure of his teeth clenching at the back of his head. “Do you play, mate?” he asks. 

Jordan looks at him in surprise. “No, we just watch. It’s an excuse to have a pint before five.” 

You break two slices of your clementine away from each other. James doesn’t know why, but your gaze is on him, and that’s where he wants it. “Day drinker?” he asks sympathetically. 

“James,” Sirius says, laughing. “Grow up.” 

“Sometimes,” Jordan says. He finishes reinstalling the change holder and starts to push snacks and drinks onto the vending machine shelves. “Gotta have a little bit of fun every now and then, right?” 

He emphasises to you. 

You give a shy smile. “Right.” 

Jordan finishes his job and wishes everyone goodbye quickly after that. You chew your clementine, your finger looped under your bracelet, tugging slowly round and around. He fucked that up for you, didn’t he? You couldn’t get very far with him poking holes at poor Jordan, but… you’d been smiling at him nicely. You’re allowed to smile at whoever you want to, of course you are, so why did James act like that? 

“Sorry,” he says. 

You slide your thumb between slices of clementine. “To me?” you ask from the corner of your mouth. “For what?” 

Sirius and Remus laugh at the same time. 

James ignores them. “I was mean to him. How are you ever gonna get a date if I bully the vending machine guy?” 

“You think I can’t get a date?” you ask. 

“No.” He grimaces. “No, just, he’s a dickhead.” 

“As opposed to who? You?” you ask. 

James is pretty sure his vision goes white. He hates seeing you with other boys, but this isn’t where he wanted the conversation to go. He doesn’t wanna be your boyfriend. He just hates seeing you happy with other people. 

Oh, god, he thinks. That’s horrible. 

“I think you can do a whole lot better than Jacob the vending machine guy.” 

“Jordan,” you correct, laughing. You don’t bring him up on avoiding your real question, perhaps you don’t notice. You just laugh with Remus and pass James a piece of your clementine. “Vending machines are an honest living. Don’t be so classist.” 

“You’re classist,” he rebukes weakly. He ignores Sirius’ knowing gaze to offer you his punnet of grapes. “Horrible woman.” 

“Get it together, Potter.” 

James doesn’t know what to say to you after that, so he says nothing at all. Your clementine is sweet on his tongue. 

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

a day in the life where everyone tries to win reader over, maybe they heard reader mention something like how they can't stand an annoying relative asking them about a relationship over the holidays, or trying to get her the best gift?

ps i love your writing, i read it like my morning paper

A Day in Life: Christmas, Presents and Revelations

Synopsis: A day in your life full of good Christmas presents, propositions and secrets.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: Implied stalking; Calling someone a manwhore; Karens in the family with traditional and conservative ideals and miserable lives; Mentions of past cheating; Mentions of past Bucky Barnes X reader; Is Hal Jordan slowly getting his redemption arc?; Slightly implied horny Reader; English is not my first language.

Word count: 2,2k

Requested? Yup.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— And it's just so annoying, like, sometimes I literally don't want to show up on these things, but I don't want to leave my mom there alone with my dad’s family. — You huffed. — My auntie’s too concerned about my romantic life, like her husband didn't get other three women pregnant at the same time she got pregnant and only married her because he would have to marry one of the four girls. — You shook your head while your co-worker laughed. — And you know what's worse? I told everyone I had a boyfriend, but Bucky cheated on me, and I didn't tell them that yet, so she's gonna think I lied and mock me like the middle-aged Regina George she is!

Unknown to you, certain people were listening, and silently, each one of them made a decision.

Your last day at work before Christmas, you were getting ready to go home, pack and take the road, when someone knocked on your office door. You looked up, seeing no other than Martian Manhunter at your door, holding a present.

— How can I help? — You hid your gritted teeth behind a polite tone.

— I came here to follow the Earth tradition of Christmas and give my loved one a present. — He stopped in front of you with a soft smile and extended the gift in your direction. You hesitated.

— You didn't have to… — You cautiously took the present from his hand.

— I also have a proposition for you. — And there it comes. — I couldn't help but overhear earlier that you were in need of a partner for a meeting with your family. — You wanted to facepalm. — I could be that person. — You sighed.

— I can't show up with an alien superhero. — You crossed your arms with a pointed look.

— As you know, I'm a shapeshifter. — You watched as he changed his appearance to look like multiple different kind of people, one moment he was a tall blonde man, the next, a black girl with braids, then an asian young guy, and so on, meaning he could look however you wanted him to. — And you can call me by whatever name you choose, even the name I adopted here on Earth… J’onn J’onnes. — He settled for his usual green alien appearance. — You widened your eyes at his confession, thinking “oh, shit”.

— Uhh…

— While you think about it, open my present, darling. — He gently pushed the present in your direction again and you, still wordless, obeyed, while mentally searching for a way out of this.

You cleared your throat and teared the paper. The feeling of destroying the wrapping paper of gifts always made you feel a little embarrassed, as if the beautiful wrapping itself was the present and you were being rude by tearing it apart. It was a silly thought.

As you finished, you found out he gave you a comic book from your favorite hero. It made you excited, but you couldn't show it much.

— Oh wow, thank you… — You coughed. — Can't even imagine how you knew it was my favorite… — You internally rolled your eyes. — Anyway, about your offer- — Another knock interrupted you, and you both looked at the door. Aquaman was there with another present in hand.

He looked suspiciously from you to the other hero and stepped forward, then focused on you.

— Whatever offer he gave you, I give you one better. Take a king to meet your family, darling. — He smirked and offered you his present. You ignored what he said, settled the comic on your desk, and opened his present. It was a necklace with charms related to the beach, like some shells, pears and fishes, all made of your favorite metal. You pursed your lips, not waiting to admit to yourself that it was pretty and you liked it more than you thought you would, just like the last gift.

— Thank you. And about your offer, I can't exactly do that. You can imagine why. — He shrugged.

— Well, you can simply take me as your completely human lighthouse keeper, Arthur. — He smirked and wrapped your shoulders with his left arm. You shuddered, thinking “God, no”. — We’ll even invite them to our beach house, darling. Right on the shore. I also have a boat. Let's impress them. — He grinned proudly, as if he was sure you couldn't deny him.

You shrugged his arm off and before anything came out of your mouth, you remembered about your auntie and her shittalking right now. She always wanted a beach house, but everyone knew your uncle prefered to spoil himself and his side-pieces than her or the kids, and yet, she felt superior to every member of the family who was single because at least she had a husband and she didn't need to work, including you.

Rubbing a beach house, a boat, and a blonde hunk himbo on her face could be nice… Even if you just offered to take only your immediate family there one day and then just pretend you broke up with him later, he and the league would still get the wrong idea.

— Knock knock, oh- What’s everyone doing here? — Flash was there and pursed his lips while looking at the three of you. You groaned internally.

— You can go, Flash, (Y/N) won't choose you. — Aquaman, or Arthur, weaved him off. Flash narrowed his eyes for a second and then turned to you, ignoring him and beaming at you, extending a gift in your direction.

— I bought you something! — You discharged the necklace behind you and took the new gift, it was a bracelet with a lightning symbol in your favorite metal. It was also pretty, you were getting tired of it.

— Thank you, Flash…

— Please, just call me Barry. — He grinned brightly. — Please ignore the stinking ugly dressed fishman and the alien still learning to act like a normal human. You can take the funny and smart forensic chemist to meet your family. — He reached up and took his mask off, you widened your eyes, at seeing his real face. Huh, you didn't think he was blonde.

You stuttered, too shocked.

— Oh God… — You thought knowing their name was worse than their faces, secret identities and all, but something about seeing a real face that was kept hidden all the time felt like a heavier burden. To make matters worse, Green Lantern showed up. — No.

— Just hear me out, please! — Everyone turned to him with annoyed expressions. — I changed, I swear! And I apologized like, a thousand times. — He cleared his throat. By your face, he knew it was the worst thing to say. — Anyway, here’s your gift. — He bit his lip while you took it from his hands and opened it with hostility. They were tickets for the next concert of one of your favorite artists, that made you feel a little bad for the way you treated him, but it didn't change what he did to you in the past.

— I… Thank you. — You were trembling with nerves at this point from all the surprises you were having.

— I heard you needed someone to bring home for the holidays…

— Uhuh.

— And your dad is a big fan of the army, right? — You blinked. It was true, but you never told them that, yet, you weren't surprised they knew that.

Where was he going with it…?

— Please, not you too.

But he took off his ring anyway, and after a moment, he was wearing civilian clothes, along with a military jacket and dogtags.

— Who better than a charming ex-air force member to present to your family? Test pilot now, I can take them flying. Actually, I can take you flying. — He winked. — Call me Hal Jordan, beautiful. — He winked and saluted you. — Also, I fought in the war.

— Dude. Just give up. They're not gonna pick you.

— I will never give up, I'm a green lantern, strong will is kind of my thing. — He looked at you again. — So, darling?

While you were staring blankly at him, someone cleared their throat.

— Be reasonable, you don't have to be humiliated today. — Wonder Woman catwalked into the room confidently. She was holding two bags from a clothes store in her hands. The amazon pushed Hal Jordan aside and stopped in front of you. She looked you up and down and smiled charmingly. — Take me with you, darling. This is for you. — She extended one of the bags to you. You took it and looked inside, then reached in and pulled it out. It was a beautiful outfit, completely on your style, and clearly of good quality. But when she pulled out what was inside the other bag, it took your attention and you looked curiously at the red wine satin dress she was holding up. — And this is what I will be wearing. — She smiled seductively. — Diana Prince, pleasure to meet you.

You couldn't help your jaw from dropping while imagining her wearing that. While some family members might not admire the sensual outfit as much, you definitely would. Secretly. Your ego would too.

Damn it, why couldn't she be more normal and less yandere?

You swallowed, looking away from her and the dress. It was finally too hard to say no, but not for the mature reasons.

At your silence, Diana’s eyebrows rose up and she tilted her head to the side, with a pleased small smile. The other men in the room groaned and started arguing loudly, but she was untouchable in front of you.

Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.

— I think I should just go home, it's getting late… — You rapidly shoved your gifts inside the bag, took your things and squeezed your way between them heroes, not even realizing how trapped you were previously, but just as you got to the door, you hit a brick wall, or Superman, as people usually call him.

You groaned and he looked at you sheepishly.

— I guess after all of that I can't offer you something much better, but I can try… — Superman took a deep breath and before you could blink, he flew away, changed clothes, and came back. One second, Superman was in front of you, the next, just a regular cute guy wearing glasses and a suit. You took a second to recognize him and understand what happened and what that meant.

Damn, who knew glasses were a good disguise.

— I'm Clark, Clark Kent. I grew up on a farm in Kansas and I work as a journalist at the Daily Planet. — He smiled shyly and gave you his gift. — I hope you like it…

You blinked and catatonically looked at the thing he gave you. Differently from the last gifts, it wasn't neatly wrapped and it had a weird shape, but by how it felt in your hands, you guessed what it was.

You expected the sight of a Superman plushie to greet you, but instead, it was a plushie of your favorite fictional superhero. The same hero from the Martian’s comic.

Well, it was cute. You would probably fall for him if you didn't know better. You held back an awed sound that wanted to spill from the back of your throat.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by all the Justice League groaning a collective and loud “GET OUT”, you looked up, confused and curious by what caused all this, surprised by seeing it was just Batman entering the room.

Huh, why did everyone react like that?

He stared at you, then at every single one of them, silently, almost disapproving, or disappointed, but then, he smirked when he looked at you again.

Batman was smirking? You flinched.

— This is for you. — He gave you a big box. It was surprisingly heavy. When you opened it, there was a very expensive and beautiful pair of shoes, something you only dreamed of having and was always on your Pinterest board. Only digital influencers and celebrities wearing it, making you jealous. But that wasn't all. There was also jewelry and a very expensive bottle of wine. You will definitely take it to the holidays to impress your family. Or maybe keep it to a very special occasion. — And there’s more from where it came from. — He reached for his cowl and your breath hitched. Never in your wildest dreams you thought this day would happen.

He took of the cowl, and in front of your was…

Bruce Wayne?!

While everyone deflated, knowing they lost, you just had to hold back your laugh, but a snort still escaped. That took everyone off for a second, including the always stoic hero in front of you, who was clearly bewildered when you couldn't hold back anymore and laughed to his face.

— You think I'm gonna show up to my family with the nacional manwhore? HA! Yeah, that's gonna impress them for the first five minutes, then I will be the dummy who’s gonna be traded for the next top model. — You shook your head, still laughing. Bruce frowned deeper. You slightly feared for your job after you bluntly called him a manwhore.

— I would never do that to you. My affairs are all to deceive the public and keep my job a secret.

— And that might be true, but my family doesn't know that! Or are you gonna tell this to everyone? Funny. Billionaires are so delusional and out of touch… — You shook your head and walked out.

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