#all posts / oa.

[yellow-dejavu]

[gaylactic-fire]

Oral allergy syndrome is fucking crazy like I'm allergic to 90% of raw fruits and vegetables (and some nuts) and I didn't even know it existed til maybe a year ago. Everyone I've spoken to ALSO had no clue it existed. And apparently everyone who has hay-fever has it to some degree???

[possessable]

by the way shout out to The Moon Will Sing for being an extremely Olen and Oas song . to Me.

[scholarhect]

got an OA immediately upon applying to one job the other day (haven’t done it yet because i’ve been on VACATION but i have until friday!!! i’ll do it!) which is a good thing because even if when they actually look at my resume they toss it out, i haven’t done one in a while & could use the practice. but i just got an OA from a company i applied to over a month ago, which means they actually read my application & wanted to send it :) which means i’m NOT doing something seriously horribly wrong. also i was really hoping to hear from this specific company, i had to answer multiple application questions & i was pretty happy with my answers, i didn’t just send it out, i thought a lot about it. i think i demonstrated interest in the position and company… also after that i started getting ads for them on twitter so if they’d ghosted me that would’ve been really sad

[beenbaanbuun]

little moments - opposites attract universe

i haven’t updated oa in a while (or posted much for that matter….) so i thought i’d give you this!!! there will be a proper yunho and wooyoung chapter but for now, i hope this will satiate you guys’ appetite hehehe

seonghwa

“might i dress you this morning, my lamb?” seonghwa purrs as he laces a hand through your hair. his nails scratch deliciously against your scalp and you can’t help but lean into his touch. with hongjoong leaving early to meet with a potential buyer and yeosang still fast asleep in his own bed, the room feels cold. all you can do for warmth is tuck yourself into your lovers chest and hope that his gentle touch and bare chest is enough to keep you from shivering. he takes the hint and wraps his arms around you. “i know you have that pretty pink apron dress that you’ve yet to wear; did hongjoong buy you that or was it a gift to yourself?”

you can help but smile into his chest, pressing a soft kiss against his exposed collarbone. “is it really a gift to myself if i used hongjoong’s money?” you ponder aloud, forcing a chuckle out of seonghwa’s mouth. it’s like music to your ears, so sweet and adoring. it fills you up from the tip of your toes to the top of your scalp. it’s so warm and bright; a stark contrast to the darkness that you’ve surrounded yourself with day in day out.

“you chose it, didn’t you?” seonghwa rolls onto his back, tugging at your frame so you roll with him. with your fingers splayed against his pecs, it’s easy to keep your balance when he forces you to straddle his hips. they stay there even once your securely balanced, simply appreciating the feeling of the skin beneath them. “and besides, what’s ours is yours, lamb. there’s no ‘hongjoong’s money’ in this house; it belongs to you too.”

“okay, mommy,” you agree with a knowing smirk on your face. a scowl crawls it’s way onto his as his fingers crawl up to your waist. his grip is tight as he tugs you down to eye level, and you’re so thankful that your arms are there to keep you propped up.

there’s danger written all over his face but you can’t do much else than giggle. it’s just so easy to get a reaction out of them, after all! and when causing trouble gets you exactly where you want, why would you ever want to stop?

“careful with those pretty words, lamb,” his voice dips to a low growl, a clear warning of what is to come if you don’t start behaving soon, “it’ll be a lot harder to tease me when your face is pressed into the pillows.”

hongjoong

“check mate,” hongjoong announces with a grin as he shifts his queen across the chess board. you scowl as you try and find a fault in his move, desperately trying to pick it apart so you can accuse him of cheating or something. even with your limited knowledge of chess, though, you can see clear as day that he’s won, in record time as well.

with a swipe of your hand you clear the board, knocking the wooden pieces to the floor in something rather too similar to a child’s tantrum. you’re a sore loser, you guess; something you have in common with the man sitting across from you with a smug grin on his lips. honestly, you almost dread the day you do beat him at his own game. surely there’ll be hell to pay.

“losers clean up, dove,” he grins, showing you his teeth in a predatory grin. it’s the same smile he gives you before pouncing on you and taking you apart orgasm by orgasm, though over the chessboard it feels less sexy and more irritating. not at all like he’s going to pounce on your and instead more like he’s trying to goad you into doing the pouncing. you’d love nothing more than to do so and wipe that grin right off his face, but you know yourself too well. a single well placed command and you’ll be giving in to his every word like he’s a king and you’re his loyal subject.

“since when is that the rule?” you growl as you pick up a pawn from your lap and slam it down onto the board. it’s a simple act of annoyance that only serves to make his grin even more insufferably wide. it honestly takes you by surprise when you pull back your hand and flick the single pawn in his direction. it’s probably not until it bounces from his chest and lands on his lap that you even realise you’ve done it.

well at least you’ve wiped the smile off his face, you think to yourself as you watch his expression crumble into a look of pure and utter confusion. it’s like he can’t quite believe what you’ve done. there’s silence for a beat or two, and you wait for his reaction with bated breath. but then he chuckles, which then turns into a laugh, which then leads to his head being tossed back and the sound of his amusement rattling through his study.

“you’re a fool, dove,” he says brokenly through his joy, “a downright fool.”

yunho

at this point you’re sure that more than half of the artwork in the kim household is some sort of portrait of you. whether it be you on your own or some sort of family portrait doesn’t really matter to you; it doesn’t change the amount of times you’ve had to sit for them. that uncomfortable seat that yunho makes you perch on every single time is practically moulded to fit your ass and thighs at this point. the dents in the cushion are now perfectly aligned with the curves of your body and yet somehow, someway, it remains to be just as uncomfortable as the first day yunho had you sit for him.

“stop moving,” yunho says from behind his canvas. how he can tell you’re shuffling around, trying to find at least one comfortable spot, you don’t really know. his eyes seem to be trained on his work right now. “i’m trying to get the lighting right on your nose, kid, and i can’t when you won’t sit still.”

“well i can’t sit still if your chair isn’t comfy, yunho,” you scoff and fold your arms, entirely giving up on holding the pose he asked you to. the look of disdain on his face as you turn your head to the side is somewhat amusing, although you can’t help but feel a little bad. annoying mingi is fun; annoying yunho feels like you’re kicking a puppy.

an overgrown, overly-talented puppy.

“you know, annoying you isn’t even satisfying,” you say.

yunho raises a brow. “you’re doing this just to annoy me?” he puts his brush down on the little table next to his easel, as if he’s finished with his work for now. and perhaps he is! perhaps you’re free, at last. if you can force yourself into ignoring the clench of his jaw and the annoyed flicks of his tongue against his lower lip, maybe you can believe that lie. “huh,” he scoffs to himself, “i wonder how hongjoong and seonghwa might feel about their precious darling misbehaving?"

"and i wonder how they'll feel when my spine crumbles to dust because of this stupid chair!" you whine. he can't help but crack a smile at that.

"fine," he conceeds, "if you let me finish this portrait in peace, i'll invest in a new chair for next time, alright?"

yeosang

you bash loudly against yeosang’s door, fed up and tired of being ignored by him all day long. he’d been locked in his room since breakfast, even going as far as to excuse himself early from that. seonghwa had voiced his concern, and hongjoong had agreed; something wasn’t right with their mutt. had they not have already agreed to go to a dinner party at one of seonghwa’s clients homes, they would’ve headed straight to mingi’s with a strangely behaved yeosang in towe. for now it’s just you and your yeosang, and getting him to at least give you a sign of life is at the top of your priorities.

“let me in, yeosang!” you yowl as you repeatedly bash the heel of your hand against his door. you can vaguely hear the shift of bed springs beneath the sound of skin on wood, and yet somehow it still surprises you when you hear the click of a lock coming undone. you’ve never done anything quicker than slamming that door open to grant yourself access to your companion’s room. you see him flinch at the sound as he scrambled to get beneath his quilt once more. “what’s wrong with you?”

you take a few steps closer, only to notice the beads of sweat that drip down his face, and the unhappy scowl that perches upon his pretty lips. he looks sick, kind of like he has the flu, and as he pulls his quilt up to his chin, he looks frail. he shivers, despite the sweat that coats him, and his usually alert ears are lying flat atop his skull. another few steps closer and you’re at his bedside, within arms reach but still unsure of what course of action you should take.

“yeosang, wha—”

“pre-rut symptoms,” he cuts you off with a mopey grunt. “i don’t normally get them but i’m late this time, and it seems like my body is out to punish me for that.” he turns over so he’s facing you, eyes pathetic and wet.

“should i call san? ask him to bring them back?” you ask, but he just shakes his head.

“that won’t do anything but make them panic,” he pulls the quilt back as he speaks; a silent invitation that you want nothing more than to take. “just come and cuddle and i’m sure i’ll be cured in no time.”

san

“i’m hungry,” you whisper to hongjoong in the dead of night. judging by the chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway, it’s just after 3 am. he’s barely awake, and yet as he loosens his grip on your body, he still manages to mumble something about you abandoning him. you plant a kiss on his cheek as you crawl over him to exit the bed, hoping it’ll be enough to satiate him and send him right back to sleep.

the walk to the kitchen is quiet, as it usually it at this time of night. except for the squeaky floorboards and the low, bearish snores coming from the living room, there’s nothing. you’d almost call it eerie, but can a girl with a ghost and a werewolf as a best friend really be the judge of that?

you reach the kitchen in no time, but before you push the door open, something makes you pause. a new sound. not jongho or the floorboards, but something entirely different. someone’s crying in there. heaving sobs and small whimpers fill the air, and without even giving it a second thought, you push open the door.

it’s san, dressed in a pair of plaid pyjamas with a matching sleep mask on his forehead to keep his hair out of his face. his eyes are so swollen and puffy that you wonder how he can even see what he’s cooking on the stove. “san?” you say to catch his attention, your voice barely above a whisper. he jumps and looks at you with wide—well, as wide as they can be when they’re swollen with tears—eyes. desperate hands fly up to wipe away the tear tracks from him face, but it’s too late. you’ve already seen him in that state, so what’s the use?

there’s a deep sigh as he drops his hands back to his sides. “you weren’t mean to see me like this,” he warbles, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. of course you weren’t meant to see him sobbing into a pan; that doesn’t change the fact that you did.

“what’s up, sannie?”

at first he shakes his head, but then he realises who he’s talking to. you’ll only press if he doesn’t tell you, or threaten to tell seonghwa who will only suffocate him with his overbearing tendencies. it’s safer to just tell you.

“this dish just smells like my mum’s cooking," he tries to shrug as if its nothing. as if you haven't just caught him in the middle of an emotional breakdown. "i just miss home sometimes, that's all."

you pull a seat out and drop yourself into it. "would you ever go back?" you ask.

he shakes his head.

"never."

mingi

“why am i stuck with you, again?” mingi groans as he paces along the bookshelves in the lounge. he brushes his fingers along the spines, barely ever stopping to take the time to read what they say.

“because you are,” you scowl at him, which only gets you a glare in return. “fine,” you scoff, “hongjoong is busy with work, seonghwa is in the garden tending the vegetable patch, yeosang is in the garden doing whatever werewolf’s do, and you came unannounced. unless you want me to summon my ghost friend, you’ll have to wait until they’re all finished.”

a look of horror passes over his face as you bring up your ghost, and as much as you’d love to invite your favourite dead bear demon to join you, you can’t help but feel like it will get you into a fair amount of trouble. not the fun kind that leaves you breathless and aching in the best way possible, but the kind that gets you scolded by seonghwa. you can almost imagine what he’d say now. ‘you can’t use jongho as a prank! it’s not fair to him and it’s not fair to mingi!’ he’d be right of course, so instead of calling his name and asking him to appear, you simply fold your arms.

“why are you here, anyway?” you ponder aloud, “don’t you have a werewolf sanctuary to run?”

he gives an unsatisfied grunt. “that’s the problem,” his fingers pull back from the shelf of books, rings glittering in the candlelight as he wipes frustratedly at his face. "i cant do this alone, anymore. more and more werewolves keep coming in and i have the space, but not the staff. do you know how hard it is to feed those guys three times a day? i barely get to spend any time with them because i'm never out of the kitchen."

you want to make a joke about how they must have it much harder than him actually having to eat his cooking, but you bite your tongue. again, you don't want him running to seonghwa spouting off about how 'mean' you've been to him. instead you begin to wrack your brain.

"well," you begin as your brain begins to formulate an idea. whether its a good idea or not is up for debate, but there's no harm in mentioning it, right? mingi can either say yes or no; he has the power here. "i have a friend who's just moved back to town. he's a paranormal investigator so he's used to this kind of stuff..."

mingi ponders it for a second or two before nodding. "tell him to meet me on bakewell street tomorrow, no later than 11."

wooyoung

wooyoung is brash as he pushes his way through the cafe back to his seat across from yours. yells of 'i'm sorry!' and 'careful, i'm right behind you!' echo through the room, despite the fact that he isn't even in your line of sight yet. you almost regret saying yes to coming here with him, yet he'd been so insistent. apparently whenever he's at the house he cant help but feel like he's going to be pounced upon by a jealous werewolf; you, personally, don't see the issue with that.

finally, he breaches the crowd and stumbles his way to your table with a sly grin and tray in hand. as he puts it down atop the table you can’t help but notice that the two cups are practically swimming in all the coffee he spilt. the cups are almost half empty, you think to yourself as you grab one and take a sip. the warm liquid washes over your tongue soothingly, and you let out a relaxed sigh.

“is it good?” wooyoung asks excitedly rather than taking a sip of his own and seeing for himself. you nod before going back for seconds. it is good. “yunho told me about this place! said he liked to come here and sketch whenever he has no ongoing projects.”

you chuckle a little as you put your almost empty mug against the table. between most of it being spilt and your two sips, there really isn’t a lot for you to drink. “i take it life is good with your new roommate then?”

he nods excitedly.

“yunho is really cool,” you shrug, only half agreeing. he feels more like a narc-esque older brother to you, but you daren’t break wooyoung’s spirit. “and there’s so many dead people in that morgue! i can continue my blog without without having to beg rich people to investigate their homes.”

you hum, “and you don’t have to live in that grimy van anymore!” he just shrugs in response.

“funnily enough, the van was never an issue.”

“you’re gross…”

jongho

“jongho?” you call out as you storm your way into the living room. you’ve been kicked out of yeosang’s room, again, and you’re in desperate need of amusement. well, attention would probably be a better way to put it yet somehow your pride refuses to let you admit that. “you are in here right?”

a breeze passes through the room as you sit yourself down on the rug that is inseparable from your friend. you lace your fingers through the fur as the breeze gets stronger. you blink, only a millisecond passing before you open your eyes again. when you do, he’s there, tear tracks on his cheeks and a heavy fur pelt draped over his shoulder. he smiles through the tears, his nose scrunching cutely in a way that makes you adore him even more. for a demon, he’s awfully sweet.

“hello, friend,” he leans in close, the concept of physical boundaries remaining a complicated topic for him. after all, he’s spent months and months just sat watching you and yeosang. it was pretty early on that you found out that jongho just didn’t understand that your friendship with yeosang was entirely different to your friendship with him. he’s never had a friend before; how is he supposed to know that every friendship is different?

“hi, jongho,” you giggle as you rest a gentle hand on his shoulder to push him back onto his haunches. it takes little to no resistance which is just another sign that there is not a single evil bone in his body. it’s hard to even comprehend him as anything but a darling, and you certainly can’t see a ferocious killer. there’s too much kindness in his heart for that. “how’s haunting going?”

“haunting?” he tilts his head in confusion.

“yeah! you’re a ghost occupying a house,” you explain, although the look of confusion never really leaves his eyes, “therefore you’re haunting, jongho.”

“but,” he bites his lip, “i’m not occupying this house by choice! am i still haunting?”

you shrug, realising the topic of conversation is way outside of your breadth of knowledge regarding ghosts. what seonghwa tells you is law, and he never really got into the specifics of haunting. besides, now you’re the one who’s intrigued. you lean in a little closer to him this time.

“what if you did have a choice?” you ask, curiosity filling you up from the tip of your toes right to the very top of your head. “would you go elsewhere?”

it takes mere seconds for jongho to shake it head, and you have to breathe a sigh of relief. the knowledge that he wants to be here is comforting in a way; it means he isn’t really here against his will, even if technically speaking he is.

“why would i want to go anywhere else?” he says, “i have you here, friend.”

[a-god-in-crime-alley]

So I got to thinking.

DP x DC prompt #3

You guys know that awesome prompt where Black Canary goes to work as a therapist at Casper High? (Edit: no I don’t have a link. I can’t find the post even though I know I reblogged it)

I just remembered who ELSE could do that instead. Arguably (slightly) more qualified as having been a high school counselor at one point. So he would have the necessary qualifications already and would only need to be recertified as he hasn’t been a school counselor for a while.

Former PE Coach. Former Leader of the Red Lantern Corps. Former Star Sapphire (is that still in continuity? I’m gonna say yes)

You know him! You (probably) hate him! The one and only…

Guy “Glass Jaw” Gardner!!!

That’s right folks. A Green Lantern with a Public Identity. Can you imagine?

Everyone hates him at first, and with the student’s history with school psychologists, his more abrasive personality would probably make people avoid talking to him.

But he can be genuinely sincere and has a lot of helpful advice. He’s GOOD at being a counselor. It’s why him owning a Bar on Oa kind of works.

So just imagine, Space Loving Danny Fenton getting to see a Green Lantern in person! Not so happy to have a new school counselor but hey, at least this one isn’t likely to try and kill everyone. And Guy really doesn’t make the best first impressions. In fact, he probably reminds Danny of Dash.

Right up until Guy jumps in to help Phantom. After all, that’s one of his students. So the next day he had Fenton pulled from class to talk to him. About the heroing, the gaps in his class attendance, the missing assignments, and about how he’s given up on working for NASA.

[hypewinter]

Bit of a long post

Danny has a core. He's the only ghost with a core. Or rather, he just has the power to absorb forms of energy that would kill anyone else and condense it inside himself

Which is why he survived the portal (3 times), Vortex (basically a god) zapping him, and blasted by every single ghost with a grudge in Phantom Planet (which includes Pariah Dark, thank you animation errors)

Incidentally, since the core is the sole reason Phantom exists, Dan and Dani (and the dead clones) need cores of their own due to coming from Danny, but don't come with any built in. Dani needs one a lot more since Dan's core is the Plasmius half of him

Ok what if these core substitutes were lantern cores? I would say Dani runs into Green Lantern (Let's say Kyle Rayner because why not) and gets this boost of stability from his battery. In the process this drains the battery and freaks Green Lantern out so it's off to Oa with both of them. There, Dani feels this pull from the main core. A strong urge that she needs to touch it. And before anyone can react, she's already absorbing the core. Becoming one with it and Ion in the process. This stabilizes Dani and gives her a major power boost as well. She has to stay on Oa for a time before she figures out how to impart some of her power back into the core but after that, she's a walking talking battery who just so happens to prefer Earth (As if the Green Lanterns of Earth weren't overpowered enough).

When Dani finally makes it back to Earth the first thing she does is excitedly explain to the others how she has a core now and is also a super powerful semi deity or something. Pretty cool right? Cue Danny and Dan slow blinking, "You became a what now?" Danny is kinda huffy because "I didn't become a super powerful semi deity when I got a core. All I got were death threats and responsibilities."

Meanwhile Dan gets excited because while he's not in dire straits without a core like Dani was, he technically needs one too. No he's not going out to look for a lantern corps just to become more powerful. That's ridiculous. You're just jealous Danny. Anyway off he goes and a short time later, he finds Indigo Tribe. Apparently their emotion is Compassion (gross). But they're all about rehabilitation which he supposes is what he's been doing after being released plus these guys are kinda fun to be around. Especially the not quite all the way rehabilitated ones. So one core absorption and merge with Proselyte later and Dan is now the entity of Indigo.

[nightwngz]

Can I request a hal x reader x kyle smut os? If so, I would like the plot to be about them all hating each other and having angry sex.

HATE FUCK !

hal jordan x fem!reader x kyle rayner

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . porn with plot. smut. daddy kink with Hal, dirty talk, degradation. fingering, p in v, anal sex, choking, manhandling?

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . Recently corrected because the original was poorly written. 💔

One of life's misfortunes is being put in situations that can be incredibly uncomfortable, but sharing a team with two people you hate? That's definitely something you wouldn't wish on anyone.

Since you joined the Green Lanterns, there have always been two people who have tried to make your rise within the Corps a little more difficult. Two people who, unfortunately for you, were assigned by the Guardians to be your superiors because you were too new to take on a mission on your own.

Hal Jordan and Kyle Rayner: Annoying, cocky, and more experienced than you. Enough to make you take a back seat on every mission.

The three of you were on an unknown planet, possibly light years away from Oa. Sitting in a seedy bar surrounded by alien life, you wondered if it was right to be a part of it. Was it even worth putting up with them?

— Is this our sector? — you asked as you followed them in flight.

You had the misfortune to be distracted by an alien with disproportionate physical qualities and advanced until you collided with Hal's back.

— Be careful. As long as you're in our custody, what happens to you and your sweet ass is up to us. So keep your mouth shut and fly carefully. — He growled at you.

— It was just a question.

— And if you can't follow a simple order, maybe you should reconsider being part of the team. — Kyle said, turning to you.

Of the two, Hal was usually the more hostile. Kyle just nodded, but sometimes he had the luxury of reprimanding you for nonsense, like now. It was strange, actually, that neither of them would be critical of another rookie, but with you, they would even criticize the way you had to fly or the structures you formed with your ring. You swore that not even Kilowog had been so strict before.

Still, it seemed that the hatred Kyle and Hal had for you also held for each other. For a moment, you thought they were great allies, but it was difficult for them to agree on anything regarding the mission. Unfortunately for you, even if they decided on an ideal plan, you couldn't and shouldn't have a say in it, so if they didn't agree, you didn't care. It seems that it's only when they're on to you that things really pay off.

Frankly, hating them and being hated by them didn't change how easy it was for you to fall into their hands. You always felt inferior to them, both in the Corps and in bed. Where you are now: in Kyle's apartment, soiling the sheets.

You were pinned against the mattress. At the same time you were biting the pillow while he was busy pleasuring you with his fingers. He wasn't gentle at all, not even touching you, but that didn't change the fact that it felt good.

The texture of his fingers slid contemptuously over your wet pussy. You were aware of your own pleasure as your accelerated breathing and small moans were the only things echoing in the room.

He watched you as he always did. There was no hint of affection or love in his eyes, just carnal lust. He didn't like you at all; he just liked the idea of fucking you and leaving you like he always did.

Hal Jordan was the same, if not worse.

— You should have told me that this invitation included a private show.

You quickly snapped out of your state of utter pleasure when you were startled by the presence of Hal watching from the doorway.

He was wearing that aviator jacket you would never admit how much you liked. His brown hair was disheveled, and maybe the effect of lust made you think the wrong things about his choice of jeans.

What was he doing here?

— Did you miss me that much, honey? — he asked. — I had to come urgently just to show Kyle how to treat you.

In an instant, he was standing in front of you. You looked into his deep brown eyes as one of his large and masculine hands wrapped around your neck without choking you.

You always found him handsome. It never mattered to you that he was quite a bit older than you. He was probably a decade ahead of you, unlike Kyle, who was barely a year or two ahead of you. As much as it bothered you, being in bed with him made you feel like you had to nod and give in to everything he asked you to do, just because he wanted you to.

With Kyle, on the other hand, you were a brat: a capricious brat who only wanted to please herself and had to be disciplined to make you behave.

Maybe that's why Hal's hands kept squeezing your neck and Kyle's kept rubbing your pussy.

— Look at me. Only me. Don't think about him. — He told you and began to apply a light pressure that began to suffocate you.

Immediately, Kyle abruptly pulled Hal's hands away from you, trying to get your attention back on him.

— Who is fucking your wet pussy with his hand right now, need I remind you?

You paused to catch your breath, just as you used it as an excuse not to answer the man's question. Since it didn't matter how much they noted that it was only a sexual thing, they would still compete in everything that had to do with you.

Immediately you felt knuckles pressing against your clit. If Kyle had been guarding your hole before, Hal was now caressing your sensitive spot that desperately needed attention.

Your senses begin to sharpen. You begin to fall deeper into the surface of the bed. You feel your vision and thoughts blur with pleasure. The heat hits you hard, sucking the oxygen out of you.

— Eyes on Daddy. — Hal asked. — I want you to look into my eyes when you cum on my fingers.

— If she cums on your fingers, it's thanks to me. — growled the other.

— We'll see. — He grinned at you without stopping his movements.

You were still. You only moaned because the sensations were so overwhelming that you couldn't even remember the names of the men who were stimulating you. You tried not to look at them and just lay there with your eyes on the ceiling. Soon you came on both fingers, leaving a complete mess on the mattress.

— Enough for you? — Kyle asked, approaching you with the intention of wiping away your tears. — I hope not, we're not done yet. Or what, you think Hal would come all this way just to touch this used pussy?

— Relax, she knows what I want, don't you? — he asked. In return, he put his knee between your legs with the intention of being able to open them again.

— Yes, Daddy.

— “Yes, Daddy?” Is it with him that you decide to be good and obedient? — the younger man asked as he reached into the drawer and pulled out lubricant and several condoms.

He positioned himself behind you, in a position from which he could perfectly observe your ass. Without consulting you, he extended a lubricated finger over your anal hole. You knew what was going to happen and you couldn't help but feel scared; you had never gone so far as to dare to do it from behind.

— I shouldn't, but I'll try to be gentle with you just this once. You're acting like a total brat.

Then you looked for a second at Hal, who was pulling you by your hips until you were on his naked lap. You quickly felt his huge erection thrusting into your pussy, which was not yet fully penetrated.

— You know how I like it. — He told you while one of his hands slid over the skin of your breasts. — Tell me how much you love me. With sincerity.

You looked at him and answered as honestly as your conscience would allow:

— I can't stand you. I've hated you since the day I joined the Corporation. You have done everything in your power to make every day of my life more difficult. I despise you both.

They both smiled self-sufficiently as they accomplished the task of inserting themselves into you from one side at a time.

— Good girl. — He complimented you.

— Always saying what we want to hear.

[ziggyevenstar]

i was put on this earth to hold my boyfriend’s hand as we both sing along to some of laufey’s romance-repulsed songs. grabe i’m so obsessed with my boyfriend😭 i’m super in love with his diverse range like he’s the guy who plays drums and guitar and listens to all the classic rock bands i adore growing up, and he was also there last night fangirling over laufey possibly even more than any of those teenage girls in the concert. he gives me princess treatment, he pays for stuff, opens doors for me, takes me out on regular dates and nicer dates, he loves to rot with me, he likes golf, likes tucking in his shirts, he’s conservative, doesn’t post anything online—hes traditional, BUT he’ll sing chappell roan at the top of his lungs. he treats me right, loves me right, he listens to me, doesn’t avoid confrontation, and he engages in conversation and never fights me. this is turning out as not a laufey post at all, but i just have to get this out. things are too good, i’m scared that one day i’ll notice him walking faster and leaving me behind while we walk. i’m scared that one day he’ll forget to open the door for me. scared we’ll one day go on a date and not have quality time. scared he’ll lose interest and not tell me. things are too good and i’m scared of a lukewarm kind of love, and it’s turning me into a significantly more paranoid (oa, di naman masyado) person

[freak-accident419]

playing cards

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

(gif by @joshfutturman) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | More parts coming soon

Summary: When his mother hosts a party and expects him to bring a proper date, Derek is obligated to comply. Not wanting to disappoint her any further (mainly driven by the rumor of her cutting him off), Derek recruits his best friend to pose as his fake partner. However, the two have to keep up this lie when a series of constant, luxurious events are held, causing several shenanigans to ensue.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content: gender-neutral reader, swearing, reader is his best friend, Derek’s mommy issues, fake dating

Ao3 Link

(A/n: this is my first miniseries!! I will also be posting this on Ao3, so please show your support there as well. Thank you to everybody who showed me love and support. Special thanks to Skye especially :) enjoy!!)

-

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have a flat white with oat milk. You know, the usual.”

For the most part, Derek would go about his usual schedule, which deprived of responsibility and stress. In fact, his recent routine invariably consisted of privileged luxuries, little to no work tasks, and drunken parties every night.

Phone in hand, Derek skated through the office on his skateboard as he waited for the drink that he ordered at the coffee bar. He checked for any texts until he swiped out of the Messages app to surf through his social media. And as he tapped through his friends’ stories on Instagram, video footage that caused Derek to reminisce the events of last night’s party took over his screen.

It was a typical night out for him, actually. He would invite his group of friends to clubs or venues and indulge in the colorful strobe lights, bass-boosted music, and alcoholic drinks. You had always tagged along with him, as you were his best friend, getting drunk and partying together. Every night, he would get abysmally wasted and driven home by his employees. Ultimately, “reckless” was nearly an understatement to describe Derek Danforth—alongside irresponsible and hedonistic.

He smirked at the Instagram stories that his friends had posted of him taking a body shot off of a skimpy stripper. Ultimately, you took the best video of the scene because unlike the other posted videos, the camera was much clearer and barely shaking. Chuckling to himself as he hears your voice chanting for him in the video, he tucked his phone back in his pocket and skated back to the counter to retrieve his coffee.

“Flat white with oa—”

“Beautiful, thank you,” he replies dismissively, grabbing the cup that the worker handed him and continued to skate along the hallway, past several other employees.

Expecting the next hour to be full of pampering and Tibetan singing bowls, a stern, yet familiarly lavish voice suddenly stops him in his tracks.

“Derek.” The young billionaire stiffens at the sound of his name being called. “May I have a word?”

An irritated sigh left Derek’s lips as he stood still on his skateboard, neglecting to turn his head around to face the older man. He then rolls his eyes and finally got off of his skateboard, kicking it up in his hand.

***

“You have to clean up your act, young man,” Westwyld states as Derek slouches pettishly in his chair.

Great. It was just another one of his needless lectures again. Why did he even bother? From the moment Derek walked into Westwyld’s dreadful office, he already sensed that he would be given another ‘serious talk’ from the man who tries to act like his father after having a romantic past with his mom.

In response to his useless demand, Derek scoffs with a smug curl on his lips, taking a short drag from his vape pen. It was almost amusing to him that Wallace believed his lectures would give him the slightest motivation to “do better.”

“Isn’t your job covering up my ‘fuckups’? Keeping me out of the tabloids and the headlines, keeping my reputation clean?” He sneered, impatient with the predictable redundancy that Westwyld brought onto him. “Isn’t that all you’re good for?”

Westwyld sighs, not very keen on having to explain himself for the thousandth time. “Derek, my job is to keep Danforth Enterprises safe, to keep your mother safe. Her reputation, her name. For thirty-five years, I worked as the director of the world’s intelligence agency, but I chose this job as a favor to your mother.”

Derek rolled his eyes carelessly. It was the same, bothersome routine when Wallace would scold him and then run his mouth about how he could have had any other job, but chose security for Danforth Enterprises for the sake of President Jessica Danforth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you tell me this for, like, a billion fucking times,” Derek retorts with a harsh scoff, “You know what, I don’t have the fucking time for this.”

He stood up instantly, storming off until Wallace’s next words made him freeze, bringing a chill up his spine.

“Your mother’s thinking of cutting you off, you know that?”

Derek processed Westwyld’s words for a second, sensing the threat behind it. His own mother wouldn’t do that to him. She completely adores him. Right? It was just another empty threat—everything had always worked out for Derek in the long run. So he kept his cool as always, scoffing in disbelief with a breathy chuckle. “Um, no. No, she’s not. She wouldn’t.” He turned around to face Wallace, walking back up to him.

“Everybody’s talking about it, Derek. A rumor, you would call it, but she spoke to her advisers. Money may play a big role in the grand scheme of things, but public image as well. I cannot keep covering for you, Derek. The endless social media posts of your immature, juvenile actions, the soirées, the strippers, it’s getting out of control,” Wallace spat sourly, evidently sick of Derek’s shenanigans and recklessness. “Even the tiniest information can spill, and your reputation will grow rotten. And your reputation is your mother’s. I won’t let you take this risk, Derek, you need to clean up your act now.”

***

Derek left Westwyld’s office slightly pissed, sipping his coffee as he rode through the hallway once again in his skateboard. Suddenly he felt his phone buzzing, so he grabbed it out of his pocket to look who was calling him.

Well, shit. Speak of the fucking devil.

It was his mother.

Taking a deep breath, Derek stared at the contact name and gulped nervously before finally clicking ‘accept’.

“Hi, Mom… What’s, um… What’s up?”

For the first time ever in Derek’s life, one of Westwyld’s lectures actually intimidated him.

Jessica Danforth was an incredibly busy woman. Hell, she was the President of the United States for fuck’s sake, there was no way she would call up her son for something casual. It had to be for something urgent, which inevitably provoked fear in him—all he could think about was getting disinherited. “Hi, Derek,” she says into the phone, sort of in a disappointed sigh. “I was just checking in, making sure you are able to attend the party on Saturday evening. You are able to come, yes?”

Derek let out a soft, gratified breath, relieved that his mother wasn’t calling him to discuss his reputation and financial situation. But either way, it seemed that he was still in deep shit; Derek forgot all about that party.

His mother spoke about it several times in the past, inviting him almost an entire month ago. She made it very clear about how important it was to her, but Derek was completey oblivious to it. It was either some kind of gala or charity event, but he’d been too baked recently to even remember.

“O-oh, um, party, right, that party…” he replies dubiously, the information barely coming back to his mind. “Yeah, um, yeah, of course.” He blinks for a moment, trying to remember the information about the party. Right. It was some kind of charity auction. Raising money for a good cause. Extremely tasteful and elegant, the kind of boring parties that Derek was never a fan of.

“Alright. Good,” she says briefly. Jessica bit her bottom lip hesitantly. “Derek, there’s something I also need to mention.”

Oh shit, here it is. The slight panic returned to him once again. He wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.

“Oh, and, um, what’s—what’s that, Mom?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and trying to sound calm.

“Your… your public image has been in a very rough state lately, especially with all of the partying posts that your friends shared online. The hard drinking and the strippers, Derek, it’s just… It’s affecting how your investors and all these businessmen perceive you. They won’t take you seriously with all of your recklessness. Just… Settle down or something. Find a really nice girl, or boy, or whoever, and take them out to dinner,” she urges. “I want you to stop partying and… hooking up with strangers so much. Please be presentable at the party, Derek. I’d—I’d even be pleased if you were able to bring a date.”

Derek didn’t process the words the moment they left his mouth abruptly, blurting out a blatant lie. “Actually, that’s what I was going to bring up. I actually have a date to the party.” Shit. No. No, you don’t, you fucking idiot.

“What?” She asks curiously, completely taken aback. “Are you serious, Derek?”

“Yeah! And, um, we’ve been serious for a long time, but uh… yeah, they are helping me become a better, uh, man, and I will no longer be reckless. My reputation will be restored, so no drastic measures have to be done,” he says, digging himself in a deeper hole as he tries to indirectly convince his mother that she shouldn’t cut him off. If those rumors were to be true, at least.

“Well… Derek, if you’ve been seeing them for a long time already, then what was that scandalous video clip of you and that… that stripper, posted everywhere online?” She questions, thinking to herself about the logistics of Derek’s situation.

“Oh yeah, that was—see, that was an old video. People have just been reposting it recently, you know the algorithm. I—Actually, I, uh, I met my partner on the day after that video was taken, and they, uh, yeah, they convinced me to be a better man, donate to charity, all that… philanthropy shit—uh, stuff.” Derek had attempted to simultaneously make his mother believe he had a respectable date to the party, as well as being a much better person than he was before.

“Which was when?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, like.. gotta be a few months ago, give or take,” he answers briefly.

“Alright, and who is this date of yours?” She finally asks.

“Oh, right, that would, um, that would be my partner,” he answers in a mumble, nodding to himself with clarity.

“Derek,” she sighs exasperatedly.

“Oh. Their name? Their name, you mean? Their name is, uhh, umm… Actually, I would love to surprise you, Mom!” He answers immediately.

“Seriously?” She scoffs with a disappointed sigh. Jessica knew her son like the back of her hand. Hell, she birthed the kid, having to push out his dumb, big head out of her snatch. The point was, she could always sense when he was lying, or at least when there was something fishy. Sadly, she frequently expected very less of him, unbeknownst to Derek.

“Yeah, Mom! Trust me, they’re really kind and they’re a good person, and I am—I am just thrilled to introduce the two of you,” he exaggerates pridefully, hoping to eventually sell it.

“I worry about you, Derek,” she sighs softly. “Fine… Fine, whatever, Derek, I’ll see them at the party. Please promise me that. Just… Just be good, okay?”

Derek smiled to himself. “I will. And I promise. I won’t disappoint you. I love you, Ma.”

“I love you too.”

***

“I am so royally fucked,” Derek states bluntly.

Later on in the evening, Derek was hanging out with you as always, at the club you two would habitually meet up at. You were his best friend for many years already and earned the position of being his right-hand man ever since you first met in college.

“Why? What did you do this time?” You reply lazily, sipping your drink. You always expected bullshit from Derek. He always got himself into trouble that he would make other people fix. It wasn’t very bothersome to you, personally. You enjoyed hanging out with him and his privilege was just a big bonus.

“Well… So, I was speaking with Wallace—”

“Ew—”

“Yeah, I know,” he scoffs. “As I was saying… The guy pulled me into his office and, get this? There’s a whole fuckin’ rumor that my mom is going to cut me off.”

“What?” You perked up, sitting up from your previous slouching position and looked at Derek seriously. “No way. That—No, that’s not true. You’re—You’re a full-time Mama’s Boy, the fucking suck-up of the century, there’s no way she would do that to you!”

Derek shrugged as he sipped his bourbon, the blue lights in the bar beginning to give him a headache. “Yeah, well… Remember that… that super dope video of me drinking a shot from that one stripper’s belly button? What was her name?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in deep thought. “Vixen?”

“No, she was last week’s. Was it Trixie?”

“No, that was way back during the New Year’s Eve party,” you recalled.

“Candy? No…”

Enthusiastically, you slapped the wooden surface of the counter with your palm. “Tiffany!”

“Yes, fuck, it was Tiffany!” Derek exclaimed. “Okay, well, you recall all those videos of her and me posted everywhere, right?”

“Hell, yeah! I had the best fucking recording, man,” you chuckle softly, thinking about the wild night before.

“Yeah, you did,” he slightly smiled, “but, uh… It’s getting viral and well… I don’t fuckin’ know why Wallace can’t do more cover-up shit for me, but because I’m ‘ruining my reputation’ with this, it’s gonna give my mom a bad reputation too? So, like… Wallace said there was talk about her… cutting me off the inheritance or whatever.”

“Shit…” you blew a low whistle, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… That’s really tough, man. Look, I’m sure that there’s a reason why it was solely a rumor and she’s not actually thinking of that. She loves you, you’re the last physical form of proof of your dad, and ultimately, you’re a manipulative suck-up. You’re not getting cut off anytime soon, dude.”

Derek scoffs, pinching his eyebrows together. “Well, its too late because I sorta fucked up a bit more.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? How?”

“My mom was so insistent about me getting a date to the party this weekend and I think she believes that me being in an exclusive, healthy relationship or whatever would improve my reputation,” he explains, humming a small mutter of gratitude as a bartender walked over to refill his drink. “So… I lied and told her that I had a date already. And that I’ve been dating them for a few months already and they’re helping me improve so that she would have no reason to cut me off.”

“But like… the video of you and Tiff—”

“I know the video of me and Tiff!” He exclaims in frustration. “I told her that video was filmed a long time ago and people are just reposting it, or something.”

“Okay, right,” you nod, trying to get a sense of his train of lies. “So, what, did she believe you?”

“I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know,” he mumbles, “I can’t tell. But I told her I would bring them to the party as a surprise and I couldn’t even come up with a name or anything.”

You groan, putting your head in your hands before taking another sip of your alcohol. “Derek, you are a total idiot. What are… So—so, who are you gonna pull up to the party with? A fuckin’ cardboard cutout of fuckin’… Margot Robbie and call it a night?”

“No, I’m not a dumbass, Y/n. I’ll just tell her that they couldn’t make it because they were sick or something. Better yet—they were doing some kind of modeling job in Europe,” he replies, wanting to give the impression that if he would have a romantic partner, they would be incredibly successful and beautiful. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

“That’s rich,” you scoff, wiping an eye with your finger. You were absolutely done with him. “You really think she’s going to believe that? Seriously? She’s your mom, Derek, I’m sure she can tell when you’re lying. And—and at one point, she’s going to ask for proof of photos and to actually meet them in person, and I’m sure that when she gets the news that you lied to her, she’d want to cut you off even more! Derek, you’re just digging yourself in an even deeper hole than before. You’re practically digging your own grave,” you argue.

“Fine, fine, then if she asks again, I’ll just say that they broke up with me,” he shrugged dismissively, leaning back and drinking from his glass.

“I thought the whole point was to improve your reputation, make you seem like a goddamn saint?” You retort, wiping your hand over your face in exhaustion.

He frowns. “Okay, you do have a point. Fuck. Then what do you suggest I do?”

“Why’re you asking me?” You whine with a frown.

“Because you keep correcting me on shit, clearly you must have better ideas than me,” he shrugs, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, I don’t. If I were you, I’d just cut your losses and accept that your fucking consequences have actions!” You reason fairly. “Might as well just get kicked out to the streets, having to con people for their money—oh wait, that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for the past few years! That’s all you do, man, I’m sorry, I can’t back you up! All you do is trick and deceive with all your lies, using people as pawns, it’s ridiculous!”

And after all that calling out, there was only one thing that the arrogant bastard got out from your outburst. His eyes lit up and you could tell that he had another stupid idea.

“Wait, Y/n, that’s it!” He exclaims brightly. “Using people!”

“Dude, I really fucking can’t with you—”

“I can get someone to pose as my fake partner for the night!” He grins.

“Yeah, I am really not liking the sound of this—”

“And get this,” he began eagerly. “You can do it.”

You feel your eyes widen as you hear Derek’s proposal. “Oh, no. No. Hell no. No, no, no, not in a million fucking years.”

“Y/n, come on,” he whines childishly. “It’ll only be for a day. You can pose as my partner at the party, impress my mom, deceive the press for a bit, and boom, I won’t even be considered getting cut off.”

You let out a prolonged groan, rolling your eyes and gulped much more of your drink than a regular sip. “Derek, she knows me. She knows I’m your best friend, she’s met me, there is no way—”

“That’s the point! I can pull some strings and shit, saying that we were friends until we, like, fell for each other or some other cheesy fuckass story. And if we want this entire charade to end after the party, a few days later I could just say that we broke up because we were more compatible as friends! No bitterness so that neither of us seem like the bad guy in the breakup. It’s the perfect fucking plan,” he explains, somehow more intricately than you would expect from him.

You pause, pondering deeply about his plan.

“Hell no.” You finally say, drinking more of your beer.

“Aw—come on, Y/n. Please. It’s only for a day. Look, my life is at fucking stake! I could lose all my fucking money, and—look—you won’t get to take advantage of my rich, privileged ass anymore. No more luxuries, no more rich parties. Come on, Y/n. Please.” His voice was pleading and you could tell he was heavily desperate. He wasn’t wrong. If the rumors were true and his mother was going to cut him off due to his recklessness and immaturity, he would lose so much money that you can’t leech off on. And of course you cared about him more than the money, he’s been your friend for years. But this whole thing seemed so complicated.

However, you were his right-hand man. His best friend since college. He relied on you. But hell, if you had to humiliate yourself for one night as Derek’s romantic partner, you should at least get something out of it.

“I wanna get paid,” you blurted.

He looked at you with an almost offended expression. “What?”

“Look, if I have to spend a night at a boring ass party, shaking the wrinkly, sweaty hands of old, ancient fucks, and having to pretend I’m your partner, I expect to be paid,” you reason, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding,” he scoffs distastefully, rolling his eyes. God, you wanted to stab a fork in them.

“No! This whole plan is so complicated and I hate you for involving me in it!” You growl, pointing at him accusingly. “What am I getting out of this? Nothing! So you might as well just pay me to do this stupid acting job.”

“You’re—You’re not serious—” he glances at your obstinate expression. “You’re fucking serious. Well, okay! Fuck, fine. How much are we talking?”

“How long is the event?” You ask, grabbing your glass up to your lips to indulge in another sip.

“Probably a few hours, I don’t know, it’s a whole fancy live charity auction event,” he shrugs carelessly, grabbing his vape from his pocket and taking a quick drag.

“Okay, then. I won’t burden you too much. Two hundred dollars,” you answer confidently.

“That’s it? Oka—”

“However,” you began with a small smirk. “If we have to be all couple-y and gross and romantic with each other, I may consider raising the price. Like, if we have to hold hands or I have to look into your eyes for more than five seconds.”

“Fine, that seems fair,” he sighs softly. “Do we have a deal?” Derek, like he always would when he’d negotiate, took out his hand in front of you.

You grimaced at it. “I really don’t wanna shake to that,” you whine, groaning to yourself. “Just one night, right?”

“One night,” he confirms.

“Staging a break up right after?”

“Yup.”

“Little to no PDA?”

“Hopefully.”

“And you’re gonna pay me five hundred bucks?”

“Yes. Wait, wh—”

Before he could protest, you shook his hand immediately, completely sealing the deal.

Having to pretend to be Derek Danforth’s romantic partner for a whole night?

Yeah, there was no way in hell that this was going to end well.

[brucewaynehater101]

do you have a specific tag for the overlord tim au or do you have a post with links to all of them?

Hello 👋 I wasn't going to make one (and sadly I don't have any tags that link them all). Yet, because you asked (and because I adore you), I made a list. I might have missed some :(

Also, these aren't necessarily all "canon" for this AU. It's just the collection of different ideas people had for it.

Since ig Tumblr limits to 10 links, below are some more:

Here

Another one

One more

Last one

[bitter-hibiscus]

I absolutely your Robin Jason headcannons, do you have any more? Maybe some Red Hood ones as well?

!!! im so happy to be getting these asks this is so fun

More Jaybin hcs (part one here):

He has a bunch of 1960s style clothes because Rena likes dressing like a mix of Amy Winehouse and Twiggy

baby goth in the making thanks to Natalia. she gives him a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's poems and he's just hook, line, and sinker into the subculture

He usually listens to metal bands but his guilty pleasure music is slow ballads and gayboy pop (think Kevin Atwater and Troye Sivan)

His favorite rogue to fight is KGBeast because of sentimentality, since KGB is the first rogue he ever defeated as Robin

He has pimples on his thighs and neck but somehow never on his face

He hates having his nails painted because of sensory issues, but lets Rena paint them anyway

His favorite of Dick's teammates is Vic, because he let Jason watch him fix one of Kori's alien weapons once, and he's super patient and kind and answers all of Jason's questions

Red Hood hcs:

Still mostly listens to metal but his favorite band is Rainbow Kitten Surprise (his favorite song is Finalist)

He has a journal where he writes shitty, angsty poetry with a fountain pen

He can never quite resist petting dogs during patrol, so there are multiple pictures online of Mafia Boss Red Hood playing with civilian's puppies

Has a tattoo of a wilded rose on top of his batarang scar to hide it. It's corny and ugly as hell but that was kind of the point. After he starts dating Rose he tells her it's because they were destined to meet. She gags every time

full-fledged romantic goth now. I'm talking manic panic white base, big eyeliner, and fake fangs. I'm talking huge messy hair with about a ton of hairspray. I'm talking "hates that every goth clothing he can find has bats on it"

His main mug is one of those corny millennial "don't talk to me until I've had my coffee" ones that Roy got for him during the outlaws. Jason uses it ironically but Roy thinks he also finds it funny

Sometimes when he's feeling nostalgic Jason will lay down on a rooftop and try to find where Oa is up in the sky, because he and Kyle looked for constellations together during Cosmic Mistake

Contrary to popular belief, his favorite superhero isn't Wonder Woman, it's Black Canary. Which is too bad because she hates his guts

Sent Sasha to live with an ex-con he trusted in South Dakota. He still sends her gifts often but they don't talk anymore since they realized how bad he was to her mental health

Deathstroke's #5 hater. Loses only to all 3 Wilson children (minus Res), Cassandra Cain, and Oliver Queen

Really wants to meet Connor Hawke because he was actually being genuine in GA Vol3 when he told Ollie he'd always wanted to meet him, and has since really really wanted to meet all of the Arrows even though none of them like him. He's the world's worst fanboy

Will do anything Talia asks of him but spits on Ra's face if he so much as looks in Jason's direction

Calls Damian "little prince" in Arabic (Amir Le-Zghir) specifically because of the book, but ALSO because it was what Willis called him when he was a child

Duke is his favorite bat because he isn't afraid to make fun of Jason, gets into a shit ton of trouble, and swears around Bruce like it's nothing

Whew, I think that's enough for a single post. Still have a lot more though lmao

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

whoa there

***Spoilers for an illustration page in the Savanaclaw light novel!!***

Context: this is a scene post-Leona OB where Ruggie uses his UM to make Leona smile with him.

On Ruggie’s left arm (our right), you can see cracks running along his skin. It looks like the kind of damage you'd see on shattered porcelain, not something as soft and stretchy as skin 💦 so the effect looks unsettling here. Really cool to finally see this detail recognized (though maybe the manga adaptation will also show it once we get around to that part)!! Seeing as Leona used his own UM prior to OBing on Ruggie... 😬 Oof, yeah... Safe to say that those cracks are injuries Ruggie sustained from King's Roar. I guess when Leona told Ruggie that his throat's now so dry that he can't even laugh anymore, man was super serious about getting back at him for refusing to comply with his orders 💦 I really worry that Leona might have gone "all the way" if no one had stepped in to stop him...

Related: So. Uh. Can Leona just casually reverse that or does Ruggie just have to slap on a ton of lotion and pray it fixes the condition??? I'm assuming it eventually goes away with time and/or with proper healing magic, but man. Imagine if Ruggie has to live with that forever and Leona has to see it and be reminded of the atrocity he came close to committing...

asdyiybfbilaf;oa; ALSO this is NOT canon whatsoever (just me making up headcanons) but in the case that Ruggie's injuries from King's Roar don't vanish, I can see him acting up to guilt trip his dorm leader whenever he thinks Leona's being too unfair to him 😅 Like, "Ouuuch, the arm that you grabbed and almost sanded off sure is hurting right about now :((( Gee, sure would be nice if I got some paid time off as compensation..."

[dollwritesarchive]

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 & 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 — 𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!lantern!reader, rough sex, dubcon in the beginning, suggested age gap ( undefined but hal is significantly older ), sir kink, improper use of constructs, pet names ( little girl, baby girl, sweetheart ), hal is a condescending asshole, very light impact play ( face slapping ), brief knife kink mention, size kink, slight pain kink, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by my bestiest maguroni. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

this should’ve been a dream come true.

your very first, official mission with Honor Guard, legend, and your personal role model— Hal fucking Jordan. after all, he was the reason you worked so hard to become a lantern yourself, and protect your very own sector of the universe. he was a living, breathing interuniversal hero, and that was unheard of for a human. you wanted to be just like him.

out of all the cadets freshly trained, you were hand picked to tag along. to follow his every order, and to learn from the best.

and you’d fucked it up in a major way.

you were only trying to help, and thought that you made the right call by abandoning your post to chase the culprit— until you realized it was a fluke. and the prisoner had slipped by your perimeter as easy as could be while you were chasing your wild goose.

needless to say, your Honor Guard supervisor had been pissed, and tore into you right there, civilians watching and all. he’d gripped your face when you’d attempted to stare at your feet and wrenched it back up towards him, hollowing your cheeks with how much pressure he’d applied as he leaned close to hiss in your face. “Don’t ever disobey my orders again, rookie. I say jump, you jump. I say sit pretty, you sit pretty. You got me?”

your eyes were wide— he didn’t yell like Kilowog who’d trained you, but growled, threatened with dilated pupils and furrowed brows. “Yes sir.” it was all you could muster: a pathetic and humiliated whisper. you could feel everyone staring, and you wanted desperately to disappear.

“Get in the cruiser.” he’d murmured, clenching his teeth. you glanced to the vessel waiting. it was sleek and only required one to man it. it had been designed specifically for this mission, for you and Hal and the prisoner. you nod, obedient, and expecting some form of punishment awaiting your arrival back on Oa. however, Hal adds, gruffly, as he gives you a subtle shove when he releases your face. “Your ass is mine.”

“What did I say, huh?” Hal barks, the emerald specters flowing from the ring on his finger, branching off into a multitude of massive hands, all grabbing at you, pinning you to the control panel of the oh-so-shiny, brand new intergalactic cruiser. “I told you that your punishment for insubordination would be severe, didn’t I?”

“Y—yes sir.” it was hard to think about anything other than how he’d managed to wrap you up in constructs, glowing green fists that cinch your wrists together above your head, coils of them that spread your legs, the glowing blade that’d sliced your suit to shreds, exposing most of your body to him. you couldn’t even concentrate to fight back, and knew better than to try, anyways. your head lolls back, eyes tracing along your bound wrists, nervously gripping at them.

“Look here, little girl.” Hal demands, and your attention snaps back to your superior before you. he’d finished his cock from his suit, and now pumped it to life, and you stare with widened, awe-filled eyes as it swells. he was big and strong, the tip swelling right beneath his thumb as he teases his own slit with a grunt of pleasure, one hand gripping himself at the base as he takes one step closer to you, and then another, until he stands in the gap provided by your split thighs.

there’s a faint bubbling in your belly, an urge nestling deep inside you, just as you take in the full visage of Hal; the thickness, the bulging vein that spiderwebs the underside of his shaft, and the broad head that you could imagine would force a cry from your lips if he speared into you. you can’t help how wet it made you. “S—sir…”

Hal tilts his head, jutting his hips to drape his length over your belly, to emphasize just how much bigger he was than you— how deep he would go. it made your head swim. by the looks of it, he would never fit. “Oh yeah, I’m definitely going to ruin your pretty, little pussy.” he smirks, as if replying to the disbelief in your mind and written all over your face.

“I’ll never disobey your orders again, sir.” you breathed out, chest heaving with anxiety ( or, was it anticipation ? ). “I’m sorry…”

but Hal quirked a brow, running one hand up the length of your body, he made sure to give your tender breast a hard squeeze before caressing your cheek, taunting you by running the pad of his thumb over your trembling bottom lip. “Oh, it’s much too late for that, little girl,” he croons, pushing his thumb between the threshold of your lips. he hooks it against the corner of your mouth to keep it anchored there. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl, and then you’re going to know exactly what happens to insubordinate whores.”

the hand holding himself on your belly has, instead, directed his herculean cock to your exposed, slick sex. but, he didn't plunge right in. Hal takes his time, using the bulbous, pink tip to spread your netherlips, running it up and down, gathering your essence over it. “You’re fucking dripping.” he hums, but it’s guttural as he tries to muffle his primal snorting. you can still see it, though, in the way his massive chest rises and falls. “I think you like my punishments.” his eyes, which had been admiring just how he can split you open, and how each time he’s blessed with a flash of your hole clenching on air, just begging to be stretched. “Want me to stuff you?”

you wished you could hide your face, because your body was already agreeing— back arching whenever the head of his cock bumped your sensitive clit, squirming and soaking him with slick, you didn’t need it to be anymore obvious, but your face would give you away yet again. big eyes, lips trembling and forced open by his thumb, you slur against it, looking down at where your bodies were meant to join. “It… it’s too big… that won’t fit inside me.” you say, incredulous.

but you can tell Hal wants to chuckle, and maybe if he wasn’t so angry, he would’ve. the corner of his lip twitched, threatening to etch into a wickedly dashing smirk, but he stops it. he simply says two words.

”Let’s see.”

and forced his way inside.

you cry out with your head thrown back, for once straining against the constructs that held you down. your body wasn’t meant to stretch as much as it had to accommodate his size. your walls spasm around the girthy intruder, clamping down, and Hal releases a bestial groan. “Fuck,” he mutters, and pushes his thumb against the flesh of your cheek, “you’re right, I am too big for you, aren’t I?” you can’t even think straight enough to nod, but it didn’t matter. it didn’t stop Hal from falling into a hard, deep rhythm. with each, powerful snap of his hips against yours, he fills you to his hilt. “Doesn’t matter to me, sweetheart, I’ll stretch your little pussy out until I fit right. I don’t care if I gotta pound it out over and over again. You’re mine, anyways, until we reach Oa.” oh fuck, you’d forgotten exactly how long the trip back to HQ was. it felt like weeks, but it was hard to tell for sure. no day or night, just the inside of the ship.

a knot forms in the pit of your gut; would he really keep you twisted up and spread open like this, right here on the control panel? would you be so easily accessible that all he would have to do is reach over and he could fondle you? the whole trip back?

with the power behind his thrusts, and the way the head rammed deep, it was clear that you weren’t meant to be the one enjoying this. he’d gone beyond any of your sweet spots, and instead jabbed relentlessly at the edge of your cervix. he was fucking you the way that he wanted, even if he thought you wouldn’t like it. it even hurt, each time, taking so much more than you were designed for, but you couldn’t help but moan out loud. it still felt good, no matter how much you knew it wasn’t supposed to. his girth plowed through your canal, and you squeal for him to please be gentle, but you don’t mean it. not really. it feels too good to look up at this titan of a man, and watch him decimate you. watch him use you.

it made you so fucking wet that, when he dives in this time, you squelch in response, and Hal moans louder, grabbing a fistful of your hair with one hand, whilst the other grabs your face and forces your chin into your chest. you sounded sloppy, and he liked it. “Come on, baby girl, go ahead and watch me destroy that pussy. ‘S what you deserve, after all. A good, hard fucking to remind you who the fuck’s in charge here.” you mewl pathetically, staring down the length of your belly. your emerald suit was merely a chunk of threads against your ribs, your breasts spilling out the gash at the neckline and the entire crotch ripped out. you could see his shape and size, the imprint of it, bulging against your stomach with every thrust, and your hands ball into tight fists. but you stare, and whine, and come undone without so much as a warning from your body. it was almost as if you were so overloaded with sensation that you just snapped. your orgasm wasn’t big the first time, but you were now twice as sensitive. each thrust feels like it has double the power and malicious intent behind it, now. Hal seems to like it, too, because he smooths his palm over your heated cheek before planting a rough smack against it. “Takin’ orders just fine now, aren’t you, little girl?” the slap temporarily stuns you, or maybe it’s the orgasm that was wracking you, but Hal brings you back with another thwack against your cheek. “All I had to do was shove my dick in you and you’re ready to comply now? You wanna be your Honor Guard’s good, little fucksleeve?”

it stings, a lot. and your eyes widen again, flickering up to watch his face— offended, but incredibly turned on. he hit you. twice.

“The answer is ‘yes sir’.” he threatens between hot puffs of strangled air, his rhythm never even faltering. but he was glaring at you, palm rubbing the pain of the slaps into your cheek, as if reminding you that he can do it again if he wanted to.

“Yes s—sir!” you squeak.

another slap.

you whimper and flinch, and try to turn away from it, but his grip on your hair is too tight to escape. you had to take it, whether you liked it or not.

the worst part was: you fucking loved it. it twisted your guts into knots when he hit you, coupled with how ferociously he was rutting into your body, you were only moments from cumming. again.

“And you’re gonna do whatever the fuck I say from now on?”

“Y—yes sir!”

“Damn right,” Hal grinds his teeth, yanking on your hair harder, but his other hand travels down to knead your breast and pinch at your nipple. he can feel when you unravel for a second time, this time your climax has you spasming and babbling, fingernails digging into your own palm.

“C—cumming,” you whimper, helplessly thrashing, “I’m cumming aga— again!” it was a cry for mercy, mostly. in shock that your body could even function after the first one, but this one was strong and, seemed to be, never ending. wave after wave of torturous pleasure washes over you, and Hal refuses to ease up. he’d so much rather force you to ride it out, and before you knew it, your legs were trembling. your eyes could hardly stay open, and you couldn’t think. “P—please, sir,” you were gasping, punctuating each, violent thrust with a syllable, “p—please c—cum, I— I need… r— rest…”

you knew he must want to. he was throbbing inside you, moaning, breathing ragged, and his jaw was sewn tight. but he only scoffs. “You’re done when I say you’re done. This is your punishment, remember?” he spat, and the constructs melted away, freeing your arms and legs. the only problem was that you were now too spent to move, so you could do little but lie there and tremble. squinting, you peer up in time to see his power morph into a chain-like ring that clamps around his engorged base before a heavy, green lock snaps into place, swinging back and forth as he ruts. he snorts at the sensation of the ring tightening around his cock, squeezing. it would keep him from cumming, you realized, until he felt like you’d earned the break you so desperately wanted. you whine again, and he plows into you harder to accentuate his next statement, “It’s gonna be a long ride home, little girl.”

[cypherscript]

In Bad Taste Part 2

"Four feet?!" The entirety of the league at the meeting is up on their feet. "Why so fast?"

"Do you have any pictures of the orb or the bodies? Were they dead," Batman asks as he pulls up the location of the League's hideout via a satellite trying to gain visual of what she was talking about.

"All but one. Why did you send Hood? I thought he was on your no go list."

"Hood's been getting better, he was the most logical one to infiltrate the League; he was already in good graces with them when Talia used the pits to bring him back. Being on my no go list made it seem like he was no longer associated with me. I have visual, why did they have the orb out in the middle of the courtyard?"

"I have some footage of the scene, they appeared to have been trying to cast some kind of spell to link the orb with other locations or maybe to expand its radius of effect. It's not completed," Zatanna places a device into a port on the table and pictures of a large magic circle surrounds the larger orb. The next few pictures were of the corpses lined up, some of the faces looking familiar to Bruce.

"So Ras is gone then, that's the man right there."

"So it appears," Zatanna agrees, switching the screen to one of the orb, with it being so big now details not seen are clear.

Superman looks at the picture closely, "Is it just me or does that look like a a bunch of stars?"

Batman says nothing as he runs the image through multiple star charting programs, "You're correct, Superman. I'm getting multiple confirmations; Perseus-Pisces, Pisces-Cetus, Ursa Major, the Centaurus Cluster, The Milky Way, Sto-Oa, Rao. It keeps going, it shows to be every star in our sky as well."

"Rao," Superman asks, looking for the familiar star by its formation. "How old is this thing?"

"We should contact Hal and the lanterns to let them know. This could be one of theirs or maybe the Guardians know what it is?"

"I'm sending the message now," Batman types away at the keypad, "While we wait for them I'm going to check on Hood."

"We'll come with you," Diana says as Bruce moves the files to his personal device.

"Do as you wish. Zatanna bring in Constantine, we may need his help."

***

The Justice League have arrived at the compound just thirty minutes later and it is swarming with more assassins and goons. Talia's there giving orders, "Remember! Squad D, do not go near the artifact! Everyone else is fine to approach, I want this circle destroyed post haste!"

Batman had snuck his way into their camp and put Talia in a hold, "Why are you here, Talia?"

"Br-" Batman tightens his hold painfully, "Batman, I suppose you're here for Jason?"

"Where is he?!"

"He's safe, you don't want to see him right now. He's back to the way he was when I first found him. It's not a pretty sight."

"Fine, what's with the orb then? You didn't answer my question, I know your father is dead, why are you here?"

"Same reason you are I suppose, I'm putting a stop to father's plans for this artifact. He planned on linking it with every Lazarus Pit on the planet, he believed this to be the heart of the god who made the pits and wished to bring it back. To bad for him he didn't know what I now know; it's not just the Lazarus waters it's absorbing, it's also draining the energy from those who have died and come back via other means. It hasn't killed anyone yet, just makes them unable to move until they're removed from its radius."

Batman releases her and taps his comms, "Batman reporting in, stay away from the compound."

Superman's comms respond, "I heard, I was able to pull myself back before I couldn't move. Felt like the life of me was being drained. Zatanna and Constantine seem to be fine, Wonder Woman says it feels like hades is staring into her soul from here."

"It feels like it's looking at me," Shazam pipes in.

"Noted, fill them in on what's going on. We need some league members who haven't been resurrected before. Let Talia's men destroy the circle then we can figure out a way to get it off the planet and away from the pits."

"Well aren't you the lucky lot," Hal's voice comes in over their comms, "Calvary's here. I can get it off planet for you."

______________________________________________

And there we go, part 2 like I promised. Also you were close @victoria-has-no-secret but it's ALL of the people who've been resurrected not just the pits. mwahahaha Now to get the tag list out of the way. hope I'm doing this right... As I was typing this up, it seemed like I made the Orb sound like an SCP... hmm, thoughts for future works.

@mnemovoid @may-rbi @cugzarui @ekatkit @farmercale @blackroserelina @justwannabecat @dragonborne-writer @aikoiya @chrysanthemum9484

[gelpensoncomics]

Guy Gardner: A Study of Heroes and Head Trauma

SO! It's July, which is disability pride month here in the United States where I live! I figured it would be appropriate to kick things off by talking about a character who has a mixed reputation, to say the least: Guy Gardner, Green Lantern. He's been around since the Silver Age of comics, and his characterization has been through some serious ups and downs over the years! But what if I told you that it's not inconsistent writing? What if I told you there is a lens with which to view his shifting behavioral patterns and at times abrasive and offensive personality that makes it all come into focus and make perfect sense, and it's all already there on the page? I'm here to give you that lens, and it's viewing Guy Gardner as a man who has suffered multiple traumatic brain injuries and managed to heal over time. Buckle up, this is probably going to be a long one, and it's pretty image heavy as I try to back up as much as I am claiming that I can.

So the first thing I will start with is establishing Guy's former baseline. This is not the post where I will go incredibly in-depth on Guy's full family history and his education, I'll save that for another time. Here, I simply aim to sum up. Guy Gardner met Hal Jordan for the first time in the 1991 title Green Lantern: Emerald Dawn, a volume that served as an updated backstory for the Silver Age hero after Crisis on Infinite Earths. Hal was in prison to serve a 90 day sentence for drunk driving. Guy Gardner was Hal Jordan's caseworker.

"What? Huh? That's Guy Gardner?" You, the hypothetical reader ask. What happened to him?!

A lot. A lot happened to him, and it took him from a man who gave the advice to "Use your rage! Don't let it use you!" to a man who is known as the rude angry ginger lantern. First off, he got hit by a bus. No, I'm not being metaphorical or making a joke. See, he quit his job as a prison case worker because he didn't like how the job made him feel, especially after he was caught up in a prison riot and threatened with death at the hands of a prisoner there. So he put his second degree to use and he became a teacher. Specifically, he became a physical education teacher for disabled children.And then there was an earthquake, and he was hit by a bus while attempting to rescue one of the students on a field trip he was running, nearly dying in the process.

Now, I will say: he got better. This time. See, no sooner had he recovered from this incident, as he was filling in for Hal as Green Lantern he was exploded in the line of duty and sent to a parallel dimension. In that parallel dimension he was tortured, and Sinestro used a dangerous and severe form of mind control that, when it was finally broken, left Guy... well, the comics call him comatose, but he is conscious, he is just not responsive to the environment around him or able to care for himself.

For years, he remained in this state, with his care at a top-notch hospital paid for by fellow superheros. And then, during the Crisis on Infinite Earths event, a miracle happened. Guy regained consciousness.

But the Guy who came out of that vegetative state wasn't the same man who fell into it. Or at least, not exactly. He was angrier. His fuse was shorter. Perhaps most upsetting of all, one of the first actions he took upon regaining consciousness was attempted grave robbery.

"Gelpens, what the fuck," you ask me. I know. It's a lot. Bear with me here. See, he didn't wake up on his own. The Guardians of Oa woke him up, using their tremendous cosmic powers to attempt to heal his brain damage so they could deploy him to help during the Crisis.

Sure, Guy got his strength back. He was able to function as a Green Lantern. But he still wasn't the same as he was before his coma. He stayed angry, and confrontational, and was frequently known to make inappropriate comments that failed to fit the setting he was in or the bounds of good taste. He had a constant chip on his shoulder, very different from the man who was concerned about controlling his anger so it couldn't use him.

This all came to a head in a series of events that is frankly infamous in comics circles. Almost every fan I know of who knows Guy Gardner knows about the time Batman got fed up with his confrontational rude attitude and laid him out with a single punch to the face.

The thing people don't remember about that punch is that, seeing as it was the 90s, and comics writers had learned a few things about the brain, they decided to use it to make... let's call it a running joke. See, after Guy regained consciousness, he was much more like the guy he was before all that head trauma. He was polite, cared about being a team player and not trying to prove himself, he didn't go for lethal force!

Of course, this didn't last. No, the whole 'joke' here was that Batman punched him hard enough to rattle his brain, and he would occasionally jump from being a sweet, friendly team player to, in the words of the narration box the first time he got hit on the head again, his new old "thoroughly rotten" self (I know). Slowly but surely though, Guy did get better, and start to stay better. His mood stabilized, he gained more self-control, he started making better plans and he was much less angry as a default. And it's kept going! This train keeps chugging along! He isn't so angry anymore! He has it under control!

And honestly? This moment, right here? This is the crowning jewel in my thesis, I think.

Guy has a Red Lantern ring and a Star Sapphire ring. For those of you less familiar with the extended Green Lantern lore, the Red Lanterns run off rage. The Star Sapphires are powered by love. Outside of willpower, the emotions that are the most powerful within him are his rage and anger, and his love for his friends. And what does he fuel them with, when it comes down to the wire? When willpower alone isn't enough? The thing he hates most is being filled with rage. The thing he loves the most is his friends.

So. I don't think Guy was ever just an angry, sexist, rude asshole at his core. Is he the same as he was before the injury, before all that happened to him? Of course not. Nobody goes through life completely unchanged by what happens to them.

I think he injured his brain and lost his ability to regulate his emotions and impulses for a while. The road to recovery was far from smooth. It just took him some time to heal and be in a place to act like the man he wanted to be all along. But in my opinion? I think he's there now.