Twenty is probably too young to die, even for a shinobi, but if anyone can kill Sakura with sheer attractiveness, it's Kori.

Kon is in desperate need of a bit of relaxation. Maybe his method of choice is a little unconventional, but hey, getting fucked until even his Kryptonian biology is exhausted is a harmless way to get there.

The news that Timothy Drake, Gotham’s cryptid millionaire, has shot the Joker dead during a public live-stream hits the world like a freight train—and that is just the opening salvo of his bugfuck plan. Maybe there exists, in the multiverse, a configuration of Jason Todd who will weather this with decorum, dignity and self-respect. This version of Jason Todd decides that the life of an academic is not, really, all that rewarding. In contrast, the life of Timothy Drake’s live-in house-husband is looking more appealing by the second.

AU in which Jason doesn't die and Tim never becomes Robin. Tim still knows Jason is Robin, but to Jason he's that really pretty boy he has a crush on.

It’s not like the world is spilling over with clones, is the thing; especially not genetically stable super-powered hybrid clones with– Wait, Tucker thinks, and lifts his head to stare blankly at the poster on his bedroom wall. Well, there’s a lot of posters on all of his bedroom walls, admittedly, but a specific poster on a specific wall. “You’re a genetically stable super-powered hybrid clone,” Tucker says to his poster, still staring at the digitally-rendered face of a teen idol superhero. Superboy continues to grin cockily at him, because he’s a special edition poster and obviously isn’t gonna stop doing that. Tucker, very slowly, reaches for his phone and types something into Bing after all.

Darcy thinks maybe her new intern is a slut. Like–a big one. Big ol’ slut. Both metaphorically and literally, since he's 6’3” of Kansas beefcake and maybe the literal only human being alive who has a build remotely comparable to Thor's. So like, a billion steroids or secretly an alien, Darcy’s assuming.