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Thank you!🥹💖 I try. (Sorry about the late response)

| Rivals to Lovers with Clark Kent |

Summary: Just mindless jabbering about mild “Enemies to Lovers” with Clark Kent for @ramp-it-up . It’s not a story, per se, but this one’s for you, homie. Merry New Year lol

Warnings: Ramblings, opinions, jokes, attempts at humor, morally gray Clark, smut, NSFW eventually (not this part tho) so per usual, minors DNI, typos probably, poor writing (but if you don’t like it, don’t read it)

Pairings: Clark Kent x BlackAFABReader

You’ve been at the Daily Planet a little bit longer than Clark, so you knew the ropes before Golden Boy graced you all with his presence

You were a bad bitch, able to cover some of the toughest exclusives. From Bruce Wayne to Static Shock himself

But he started scooping you left and right and it was tap-dancing on your last nerve. But you respected how he was able to somehow get the story

You secretly thought he had to be Superman

Bc frfr the man was swole

“Scooped again,” you huffed quietly, packing your bag for the day, eyes flickering to the team congratulating Clark Probably-Superman-Because-What-Reporter-Has-A-Body-Like-That-Kent. You spotted him approaching from the corner of your eye and looked up with an enthusiastic smile.

“Well well. Congrats again, Clark.”

His dashing smirk grew a bit and he dipped his head with a laugh. “Thanks. You almost sounded like you meant it this time. The smile? Nice touch.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” you sassily agreed, a little proud of your own performance and he laughed. You looked out at the office. “Well anyway. Your adoring public awaits.”

“C’mon, YN, we’re going out to celebrate. Have a drink on me.”

He was always really sweet. That was one of the things that kinda bothered you. He was perfect. Funny, gorgeous, smart and a hell of a journalist. You couldn’t even have a serious rivalry with him because he was just genuinely a nice dude.

It was a rivalry you both enjoyed, because you could sass each other on a professional level and still have lunch and debate topics civilly (most of the time) with a mutual respect

Loathe as you were to admit it, you had a lot in common

“Can’t. I have things to do.”

“I promise not to brag much,” he joked, his arms folding expectantly. You rolled your eyes and mimicked his pose, shifting the weight in your hips.

“Clark, as much as I’d love to pour-have a drink on you, I actually have a life outside of The Daily Planet Crew-Heeeey, Luke!”

Clark’s eyes followed yours to the man perched in the doorway. You lit up so much at seeing him, Clark looked back at you with a judgy smirk but you ignored him.

“Hey, you need a ride to class?” Luke asked, looking between you and Clark, who perked up.

“Class?”

“Yeah, no, we do a cooking class together. International Cuisines over on West and Central. You should check it out,” Luke explained and Clark looked moderately impressed.

“Oh! I didn’t know you two were. Are you datin-“

“Oh, um,” you started.

“No, no, no,” he gargled out at the same time and Clark looked between you slowly.

“I mean, it is a couple’s only class, but, like, between us, we kinda fudged the details a little bit when we signed up,” you admitted, your embarrassment growing. It was enough that your secret alone time with the hot photographer was being revealed to Mr. Perfect, but to hear Luke so vehemently refute the implication that you were his girlfriend. In front of him. Of all people. It was too much. You swallowed your feelings and kept it together. “Anyway, yeah, I’ll ride over with you.”

With that Luke continued down the hall to the darkroom. You exhaled and and pulled your bag onto your shoulder.

“Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Clark smirked, rolling his lips, to keep from laughing at the juicy interaction he just witnessed. He watched you lock up and leave, that annoying shit-eating smirk on his ridiculously handsome face ever present. You knew he was judging you. Like Damn woman, I knew you were thirsty, but this is next level.

Not like he had room to judge. Lois Lane could wear his balls as a necklace and he’d thank her for her time and energy. You had to respect the hustle, however, because he was just as shameless as you were to get next to his boo. You weren’t mad at that. The struggle was real. Today, however, was a major blow to your pride and progress and honestly you didn’t even know why you even bothered getting into the car, let alone slog through another class next to a man who clearly didn’t see you as anything but a fwb. The benefit being that you were a woman he could finesse a cooking class with.

You were way too fine to be used like that

You knew that

But in a way you were using him to be in the class too. It had limited seats and if word got out that you two weren’t a couple, you’d be put out for sure, so, annoyed and lukewarm (I said what I said) as you were on him now, you were trapped in this one-sided arrangement for now

But damn. Pretending was hard. When that man smiled at you over a perfectly cooked plate of crullers that you both worked hard to make…Hoooo. You were goo. It was pitiful. You hated it, but there you were. Laughing at his corny ass jokes. Joking back. Completely ignoring how he threw your potential relationship under the bus earlier that day. The laughter died down and eventually it was just you two in the car. Him driving you home.

“Hey, you remember when Clark thought we were dating?” you asked, hoping to work around to a genuine conversation about the two of you.

“Woah right? That was close. I mean, not that you aren’t attractive. You’re gorgeous, of course.”

“Of course,” you smirked saucily, chest fluttering at the blatant compliment he was giving. But the other half of you was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But.”

There it was.

He hesitated, as if trying to find the words. He hazarded a glance your way. “Between us, Lois and I have been dating for a little bit.”

You then throat chopped him, causing him to swerve sharply, sending the car into a spin-out off the nearest bridge, thus killing you both and sparing you the humiliating dread of realizing you wasted your time simping over some dude that Lois Fuckin Lane had already secured between her legs ages ago

Just kidding. That didn’t happen, but you were damn sure thinking about it right then

You were truly at a loss. You were a top flight journalist, you should’ve picked up on it. Something. Anything. Sure, they hung out a bit between meetings, but you all did. Then again, they did spend more than a little time at each other’s desks, smiling and talking. Grabbing lunch or coffee for each other. But you thought it was business. You and Clark did that for each other all the time. Maybe you just ignored the signs.

“Oh. Shit. That’s-That’s great! Is it getting serious?” you asked, kicking yourself for the filler question. He took a deep breath.

“I think so. I mean, it’s going pretty well. I wish I knew what was going on in her mind.”

“Well I’m not gonna spy for you, if that’s what you’re working around to,” you joked hollowly, the sinking pain in your chest making you feel sick and stupid. He laughed and you forced yourself to as well.

“Man, that’s cold,” he chortled and it gave you a petty bit of satisfaction.

“That’s life.*”

‘Biotch’.*

“That’s what people say,” he joked back, quoting the song. Though while he was riding high in April, it was you that was shot down in May. You were relieved when you saw home, nearly opening the door while the car was still in motion. You couldn’t wait to get inside and have a nice hot bath and a stiff drink.

Usually that was your time to unwind and read in the warm candlelight, or even touch yourself, if you felt so inclined to do so, but tonight, you weren’t feeling anything. Much less yourself.

You couldn’t help but think about how Clark was coping with all this. Provided he even knew. You could see him, the absolute Labrador of a man, reduced to nothing me than a kicked puppy at the news of his beloved Lois dating anybody that wasn’t him

Part of you was hoping he was Superman, so he could freak out and smack the shit out of Luke for doing this to you. Well. The petty part of you was kinda hoping

It wasn’t anybody’s fault, you knew that, but you just wanted to feel less like a fool and more like the confident woman you woke up as that morning

The next time you saw Clark, you debated not telling him anything, but you weren’t willing to let anybody go out the way you did. So eventually, over coffee, you broke it to him casually

“I know.”

“S’cuse me?”

“That they’re dating? I already know that,” he said, adding more coffee to his mug to make it less sweet. He was either taking this remarkably well, or he was playing it off like he was. Which would add amazing acting to his already impressive list of things he could do well.

“Then why are you still fawning all over Lois like it’s Single’s Weekend?”

He laughed with a shrug. “They’re dating, not married. She could change her mind.”

Part of you felt a small spark jolt through you. You always imagined Clark the traditional type. But there he was literally—openly—declaring war on your crush. Threatening to steal his bae.

“Oh. Okay. My bad.”

Part of you was cheering for him to.

(Part 2)

[thirstnotes]

What “Ghetto” Names Really Mean

“Tinashe” -  Means “God is with us” in Shona ( An African language spoken by nearly 80 percent of people in Zimbabwe.)

“Lakeisha” - A Swahili name meaning “favorite one.”

“Ashanti” -  Name of a powerful African empire in West Africa.

“Tanisha” - Hausa of West Africa name meaning “born on Monday.”

“Zola” - Means “quiet, tranquil” in Zulu.    

“Amandla” -  Zulu and Xhosa word meaning “power”. The word was a popular rallying cry in the days of resistance against Apartheid.

“Zendaya” - Means “ To Give Thanks” in Shona

“Latonia” -  A Latin name. Latonia was the mother of Diana in Roman mythology.

“Lulu” - Swahili and Muslim name meaning “pearl” or “precious.”

“Ciara” -  Means “dark-haired” in Irish Gaelic

“Lateefah” - A North African name meaning “gentle and pleasant.”

“Mercedes” - Means “Gracious gifts/Benefits) in Spanish

“Kaya” -  Ghanaian name meaning “stay and don’t go back.”

“Amara” -  The Swahili word amara, meaning “urgent business.” Also the Hindu name meaning “immortal.”

“Shanika” - African Bantu name, meaning “young one from the wilderness.

“Zuri” - Means “beautiful” in Swahili.

“Onika” - Word of African origin meaning “warrior.”

JUST BECAUSE A NAME SOUNDS DIFFERENT DOES NOT MEAN IT’S “RATCHET” OR “GHETTO” THEY HAVE BEAUTIFUL MEANINGS.

DON’T BE IGNORANT, LEARN.

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"You want to hustle someone???"

You can really tell for a split second he's wondering what the fuck his brothers have been doing with this actual child all this time you know it looks bad when even Crosshair is like who tf taught you how to gamble?????

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The dad and the dog he didn't want 😭

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Megan thee Stallion

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CLINTASHA AU - After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha finds Clint in a small town on the countryside. She soon begins to notice he is much more quiet and somber than his usual self. Something had happened to him while he was gone. 

“Clint, are you alright?”

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See, they always work it out.

The Bad Batch 3x05 The Return

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i'm fine i'm fine it's okay we're okay

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He started collecting pets like pokemons

Commission info

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“Teddy and a stool sitting in a tree; T-R-E-E-E-E-E.”

— Like I said. Bob’s Burgers has said everything.

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| Imagine Being Betrothed to Steve and Neither of You Wanting Anything to Do with It…At First (Royal Au) Part 2|

(Photos credited to Pinterest and the people who made them. Aesthetic arranged by me.)

I recently binged Queen Charlotte and I couldn't help myself. They killed my soul.

"Milday, your grandfather is incensed. The neighboring army is surrounding our borders. I beg of you to please reconsider King Steven's proposal," Bruce urged as you as you stormed through the halls and forced your way into the throne room.

There he stood, the liar. Before your grandfather, the king. Making his proclamations well known. He didn't seem to be surprised by your abrupt entrance, or the outraged glower emanating from your pretty brown eyes. In fact, he looked downright amused. It pissed you off.

"You said you didn't wish to marry me," you demanded, tossing the the altered conditions he'd sent at his feet. You couldn't fathom why he was insisting you'd breeched the agreement, especially since you'd both agreed that the betrothal was rubbish. But there it was.

A threat to declare war if you did not wed him.

"I assure you, Your Highness, I don't recall saying anything of the sort." "You horrible liar," you spat, and the king stood, outraged at the entire scene. "Y/N. Your behavior is wildly out of line." "He's wildly out of line-" "Enough! The wedding will go as planned and I'll hear no more of it," your grandfather declared, his tone forcing you to stay quiet. You bowed politely, your eyes rolling to the satisfied king beside you. His smirk made you want to thrash him. You stormed off angrily, making no effort to excuse yourself politely. Bruce rubbed his temples as he watched you go.

(Part 1)

#reader insert #thirstnotes #imagine #marvel #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers

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“Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

COWBOY HUNTERRRR 🥰🖤❤️

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Y'all know that theory where Cody keeps a lightsaber clip on his belt for obi-wans saber.

Well I had an idea

After the war is over and order 66 doesn't happen

Cody holds onto Obi-Wan's saber in later years Obi-wan gave his “life” to Cody with that saber but also

He holds onto it for more than that…

Obi-wan has nasty nightmares as the two figured out and out of instinct reaches for his saber when waking up.

Obi-Wan and Cody are both sensitive to loud noise but Cody always noticed Obi-wans hand twitch to reach for his saber when something scared him.

So it was a gift. A sign of love. But also a sign of trust. I don't need this to keep me safe when I have you. I give my life and I give my safety to you.

And so that saber doesn't get much use now a days but that clip now sits on Obi-wan's waist and the weight is much lighter now.

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The first person to know about Cody and Obi-Wan is Hondo because he can't find Obi-Wan's space tinder profile anymore.

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🤣🤣🤣

No pressure tags: @hufflepuff-andstuff @z-socks

Starting a chain!! With this quiz and this Picrew.

Tagging: @tuff-ponyboy @veggiesforpresident @sleeplessgreaser @fishfishfishfishfishfishfish1 @literallyhim0 @cadesblade @tigergirlpaya @arieshasbrainrot57 and anyone else who wants to do this.

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💖💖💖

Indeed it is Jason Todd💖 Of course he's gotta trip some kinda way🤣🤣🤣.

Thank you! 🥰 Hopefully more soon!

| Rivals To Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Eleven - Intermission|

Pairings: Clark Kent x AFABBlackCurvyReader

Warnings: abduction, Red Hood, mild confusion, language, minors DNI

Sorry this took so long, sweeties. It's been a long few months. I'm exhausted, but I promise I haven't abandoned this!

If you don't like it, don't read it.

If waking up on silk sheets in a dark—albeit luxurious—unknown location is one of your worse fears

Trigger Warning

Because that's what was happening right now

Your head was heavy and groggy as you looked around at your settings. The pleasant scent of something familiar that you couldn’t place further lulled you from your stupor and you sat up slowly, the silky slink of fabric following you. As you slipped your legs over the edge of the bed, you realized it wasn’t silk sheets at all. You reached for a lamp in the corner and turned it on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You were wearing an evening gown.

Black and sexy

Sleek and curve complementing

Had you not have been terrified out of your mind, you’d have adored it.

Your hair was up in a curly bun, a few loose curls tickling your skin. The small sparkle of a diamond necklace caught your attention, and you marveled at the simple elegance of the design. You were done up perfectly. Like a princess. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to doll you up.

How long had you been out?

Your eyes scanned the vanity in front of you, it's surface lined with high end perfumes and makeups. Something like what you'd see on Pinterest or a tv show depicting the life of an heiress. The familiar smell you were catching was Chanel No. 5 lightly spritzed on you.

What the fuck?

The soft sound of piano music started and you looked to the door on the other side of the room. Approaching the door slowly, you reached to take the knob, ignoring the way it tremored. There was no time to freak out now. You were a journalist with nerves of steel. Keep it together.

You quietly pushed the door open a crack, looking into the fully lit room, seeing nothing out of place. In fact it was immaculate. It was unnerving.

You looked around the edge of the frame for any alarms or triggers, unsure of what might've awaited you. But nothing happened as you eased the door open. The room was gorgeous, easily rivaling one of Bruce's fancy penthouses. Plush carpet, crystal chandeliers, and a beautiful grand piano, behind which was the same masked man that you saw before you blacked out. Your blood ran cold.

He seemed to be aware of your presence the entire time, his mask turned in your direction as he played. You decided not to look like a deer in the headlights and walked towards the piano awkwardly, hearing the end of his song approaching.

"No wonder he's so distracted," he said, as he finished with a pluck of the last key. You waited for him to finish his thought, wondering who "he" was. "You're a knockout."

He stood and you took a step back. He paused, deciding to round the other side of the piano instead.

"Who are you, and where the fuck am I?" you demanded, a bit of edge to your voice to remind him that you weren't trying to exchange pleasantries. As laid back as he seemed, you were certain just walking away wasn't an option.

"Straight to the point, I see. Another selling point for sure," he said, the crimson of his mask unnerving you further. You shuddered to think what he had in store for you. Or even why he targeted you.

You were a journalist, sure, that had written plenty of articles on the criminals of your city, but you didn't remember any of them looking like him.

Perhaps he was from Gotham?

A sudden memory was triggered the moment you thought about Gotham and how it was often said that the philanthropist had a target painted on his back. Maybe that was why Clark was bothered by you hanging around him so much. Not because he himself was dangerous, but because of his social standing.

A fact that had become all too real in your current predicament.

"You mean Bruce," you said, not necessarily asking for conformation. You received a chuckle in return.

"Perceptive too. Even sexier."

So it was.

"Look. I don't know what business you have with him, but-"

"My business is his business. I don't have any qualms with Wayne. Quite the opposite," he said, sitting down, opening a magazine. You watched him, your brow furrowing.

He looked up at you, his eyes sweeping your form. "They call me Red Hood, and I'm here to help Bruce make up his mind."

"Make up his mind? About me, you mean? There's nothing to make up. We're not together."

He sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Ah! Therein lies the issue. You see, Bruce has been driven to distraction lately over you and I wanna know why that is. Selina Kyle never had this deep of a hold on him and he's been chasing her for years."

Selina Kyle? Who was that?

"Why not just ask him?" you inquired, keeping an eye on him, every now and again glancing around for any sign of an out. He tracked your movements carefully, his mask following you with every movement.

"Oh I have been, and I plan to ask one final time tonight."

"So I'm bait," you asked, walking towards the fireplace, observing the portraits on it. Thomas and Martha Wayne. The family butler. Bruce. But on picture caught your eye that made you nearly drop the photo you'd picked up. It was a candid polaroid of Bruce...taking off his mask.

Bruce Wayne was the Dark Knight himself.

Of fuckin course he was.

"No, you're the reason," he said, standing again and folding his arms, watching your realization. You set it back down, looking at him.

"So...Bruce is...a personal friend of yours I take it," you said, subtly hiding your surprise.

Calling him Batman felt entirely too cliché

Especially while you were being held hostage by one of his so-called sidekicks

It was beginning to make sense why Clark didn't want you around him

Not only was he a colleague, he really was dangerous

"Very personal. Like an older brother, if you will, and unfortunately, now that you're his main squeeze, you're in it up to here," he said, passing you with his hand above his head to indicate the deep level of shit you were in. He stopped at the fireplace, pulling a phone from his pocket.

"That Sherlock shit's really impressive, you know that?"

"What do you think you're doing, Jason?" Bruce asked with an exasperated breath.

"Putting all the pieces in place," Jason said, looking over his shoulder at you. He was armored, so a vase to the head seemed like a way to piss him off. So you just listened to his conversation with whom you could only assume was Bruce.

"It makes things a bit more complicated than you know. Especially if he finds out you've done this."

"I'm counting on it. He's our other guest of honor, after all," he smirked, hanging up. He seemed very satisfied with himself, plopping back down on the sofa. You gave him a steely calm leer.

"He's gonna kill you when he finds out."

"Nah, I don't think Golden Boy's got it in 'im," he said matter of factly. You didn't doubt he would, but there was something in his tone that made you uneasy. He knew something.

(Part 10)