#comedy is not my strong suit

[polliwoggers]

big things coming

[icomefromthemountains]

Midnight Burger is the first “comedy” audio drama I’ve come across thats actually funny like I’m in hysterics this is so fucking awesome

[sisterdivinium]

Mother Superion barely had time to assess the large coat, the expensive hat and the aviator sunglasses all bunched up together into a messy pile located at the edge of her own desk when Jillian noticed her entrance.

“You’re alone?” She asked by way of greeting, peeping behind the nun’s back to make sure. “We should best close the door.”

“And ciao to you too, dottoressa,” Superion replied dryly, watching as Jillian went on to lock them in after looking outside for any other nuns strolling in the corridor.

“You’ll understand my bluntness in a second.” Jillian returned to her companion, gave her an apologetic peck on the lips and soon produced a magazine which she put into Superion’s hands. “You should take a look at this.”

It was a thin little rag, the sort that printed more low-quality paparazzi pictures than it did any sort of meaningful text—when there were any words to go along with the images, typos and grammatical mistakes abounded throughout the extravagant theories “explaining” the ins and outs of the love lives of all sorts and ranks of celebrities, from international movie stars to barely significant internet phenomena boasting of a couple thousand followers online.

Mother Superion might have wondered how and why a woman such as Jillian Salvius would ever have any such dreck in her possession had she not at once recognised what the low-quality paparazzi photograph chosen for that particular issue’s cover revealed: it was an aerial shot, likely the product of a snooping drone, which had captured an inner patio of Jillian’s house—and both of them, Jillian and Mother Superion herself, featured in it, standing suspiciously close together as the nun’s hand stroked the renowned scientist’s cheek.

“This has been out for only some two hours and it is making a hell of a lot of noise already. My PR staff are going completely mad. ArqTech’s social media accounts are being bombarded with either accusations of hypocrisy on my part, secretly seducing the church in the background while fighting it in public, or celebratory messages about ‘crushing the patriarchy of a decadent institution’ through ‘full contact sisterhood’ or something like it. Dozens of extremely suggestive emojis are sprinkled throughout in both kinds.”

Jillian said all this with a wealth of gestures, drawing abstract, nervous shapes in the air, squinting her eyes at every word, as if they stung her tongue with each absurd syllable that escaped her lips.

Suzanne looked down at the magazine again, flipping through some of its pages. A couple more of blurry or pixelated images where she and Jillian could barely be made out adorned a page with a single column of text in a large font over a red background that would make anyone’s eyes water; she couldn’t read the speculation contained therein.

She could likewise not speak her mind on the matter, as Jillian continued her tirade.

“And there’s more, of course there’s more. I regret to inform you that you and I have been…" She grimaced. “Blorbofied. And please don’t ask me how I know that word.”

Mother Superion raised an inquisitive, insistent eyebrow nonetheless. Jillian sighed and submitted.

“… Camila,” she admitted.

The nun pinched the bridge of her nose.

“But what I mean to say is that the internet is simply abuzz with this. We’re being shipped. People are writing fanfiction about us. I don’t know if you know, but that’s when they tell stories—”

“I know what that means, Jillian.”

Catching her off-guard, Suzanne was the one moved to confess by another eyebrow raised high.

“Well, Xena fanfiction didn’t write itself in the nineties, you know.”

Jillian remained speechless for a few seconds more as she attempted to process the information of how the woman standing in front of her, who she had seen kill scores of malevolent men as well as writhe beneath her in pleasure, who wore a habit and a veil and prayed to God every day, was the same person who would write Xena fanfiction in the late nineties and post them on the internet—some of which might still be out there, somewhere.

On second thought, the whole killing men part did make quite a good deal of sense…

“If this has been out for only two hours, how are these people writing stories already?” Suzanne asked, rescuing her from her trance.

Jillian shook her head slightly, as if to dispel the thought of a young Suzanne writing stories of dubious merit and intentions in some corner of the convent when not absorbed by training.

“I don’t know. I haven’t read any—nor will I—but they even came up with a name. They’re calling us ‘doctor superion’.

The look she received as a reply was impenetrable. Jillian couldn’t tell whether Mother Superion despised it or was somehow amused by it.

“But that’s beside the point,” Jillian went on, rather exasperated at the possibilities, “because if I’m getting hell over this, what can it mean for you?”

She reached out to Suzanne’s hands, her touch scared, her eyes pleading.

“Can the Vatican take any sort of action against you? Have I put you in trouble again?”

“This will pass,” Suzanne said to comfort her, cupping her cheek. “You’re talking about the Catholic church. They didn’t even believe women could have any kind of sex for the longest time. They won’t read into a bad picture where I’m doing nothing more apart from touching your face.”

“And the gossip? The articles are multiplying online, the stories—”

“How many stories has the Church survived?”

“Suzanne, don’t fault me for saying this, but I don’t give a fuck about the Church surviving anything—it’s you I’m worried about. If my investors drop out now, I can always find others if I need to, but if they excommunicate you and tear you from the girls—”

“Jillian. I’ve been here for about twenty years. I’ve done worse than touch rich ‘heretic’ women’s faces and they know it. You know it,” she said, looking pointedly at her. “Stop worrying.”

The scientist relaxed, if somewhat against her will. She frowned soon after, however.

“… What do you mean by ‘worse’? How many other ‘worse’ things were you involved with?”

“… A conversation for another day. I think doctor superion has given you enough strong emotions for the time being.”

Jillian laughed despite herself. Mother Superion smiled seeing her unwind.

“I won’t hear the end of this anytime soon,” the owner of ArqTech pondered.

“Hence the detective disguise in coming here when it’s thirty degrees Celsius outside?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to unwittingly inspire any more fanfics than are already being written, would I? They’d have a field day with it, no doubt… But are you very sure you won’t suffer any repercussions for this?”

Suzanne kissed her.

Jillian attempted to repeat her question, but she found that kissing Suzanne back was quite a balm to her burdened heart—after all, if there were consequences to face either way, might as well deserve them in full.

When they parted to catch their breath, Mother Superion offered her an idea.

“We can say you’ve had a revelation through me, a miracle conversion. Even the Vatican will be glad to hear of it, for once.”

“Excuse you, but I have known what I liked since very early on. You wouldn’t be able to convert me to anything,” Jillian replied with a smirk. She leaned in to kiss Suzanne again, but stopped short thanks to a thought. “Hold on. Did you already have a contingency plan at the ready in case anything like this should happen?”

Mother Superion shrugged lightly.

“I told you. Worse things. In this line of work, it’s always best to look ahead of yourself.”

“Well, I might just run with your version, then. If only to calm these people down for a time.”

“The writers won’t stop.”

“I know. They might go at it even more excitedly. But the public image of the company might still be salvaged.”

“I pray it will. You’re invited to service if you want to show off just how genuine your new quest for God is,” Superion provoked her.

“Please don’t make me,” Jillian said with a laugh, pulling her closer. “I think I prefer private prayer to this whole blasphemer-to-devoted-choirgirl-overnight AU.”

Suzanne chuckled and kissed her again, throwing the gossip magazine away.

“See? Don’t worry about the others. We can write our own story all by ourselves…”

[pocket-sized-lawyer]

offline

((aaaaand on that somehow weirdly successful, and perhaps a little bit of pity driven, note i am gonna do one more reply on the other blog then pass out

gnight!))

[that--unusual-person]

ive come to accept the fact that whenever i try to do a serious piece of art i try too hard and it looks bad. but when im shitposting i let loose and have a fuckall good time and it will always worth every second of my life because i enjoy it while it makes people laugh

[taniushka12]

drawing depressed middle aged men and crying, btw, if u even care

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 1

────୨ৎ────

College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode one!

Song recommendation: bloodline- ariana grande

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Notes: Hey lovelies! This is my first time on tumblr. pls be nice! leave a comment if you like, feel free to go to my ask! to request drabbles of this couple

────୨ৎ────

A picture speaks more than a thousand words, so do eyes

At least when 26 pairs of them stare at you for being late, again. To be precise, for the 5th time in a row.

"Miss Y/n? what a surprise" Mr. Jeon stares through his glasses, direct and monotone as usual.

Bowing, you try to sit down at your desk that´s next to the door. "What is it this time? Couldn´t find your pens?" A almost routine like greeting from your teacher when you show up to class late. He tries to guess your reasoning each and every time, while increasingly mocking you. Just last week, when you showed up in a stained Shirt, he asked if you had to wash your clothes first before coming to class. You bet he found that hilarious.

On this day, his creativity seemingly died down, while his sarcasm certainly did not. "No sir, simply could not catch the bus. I apologize" you shake your head. Turning back to the Presentation behind him, wordlessly he resumes the lesson.

So likewise, you sit there. Waiting for it to be over. Photography has never been your strong suit but as a performing arts major, you needed this class to pass.

Not that you ever passed his class before, not in your first semester and certainly not in this second one.

"I will hand back your portfolios for the midterm preparations. I´m far too busy to be disappointed with them, although there are a few that gave me nightmares" his steps are small but powerful as he walks around the classroom, head pointed to the floor, his fluffy brown hair making it hard to read his face. It was blank, no one needed to see it to know. With his arms folded across his chest, he stands still.

If any other teacher had joked about having nightmares from awful projects, the class would have bursted into laughter and groans. In mister Jeon´s class, it remains silent, because for him, it´s not a joke.

Grabbing the pile of folders on his desk, he parades around the classroom, silently throwing folders down on the desk of the student it belongs to. Occasionally, a sigh of relief can be heard from your classmates.

When he reaches your desk, he slams the folder down, scoffing with his belittling smirk. It´s rare to see his face outside of his blank expression or unamused scoff, but when it does change, it is never positive.

Failed, repeatedly.

For one, because you prioritized other classes, far more important ones. Staying up until ungodly hours in the night to research for your English literature class and at the same time, trying to recall the notes for your practical music exam took a lot out of you. On second viewing, because your shitty 3 year old camera is barely holding on and you have no sense of stylistic layout or skill for settings and atmospheres. Not in pictures, at least.

Like you said, photography has never been your strong suit.

The bell finally releases you from the horrible strings of mr. Jeons depressing class, that is until his stern voice stops you from actually leaving.

"I have never had a student as careless as you" his scoff is as belittling as his eyes that look down at you. Without having to say it, they tell you how highly he thinks of himself, how lowly he thinks of you. Mr. Jeon has never been nice, too straight forward, never showing understanding for any misdemeanor. Handed the assignment in 5 minutes late? He would not dare grade it, even touch it. If you had worked tirelessly? , too bad. Ignoring the evidence of eyebags and puffy faces, he believes everyone simply lacks discipline.

"You show up late every time, fail every single exam, barely pass any group participation. Do you need this class for credits? I would drop out and take something that doesn´t require thinking, like theater. You have no chance of passing here" The words fall off his tongue naturally, so do the last footsteps of students leaving the class.

"I do not understand sir, why this concerns you at all. You have no consideration or awareness of my circumstances, I would expect some empathy from someone who´s job it is to interact with people" Honesty is not owned by him, for once, you decide to not let people treat you as if you were below them.

Once again, a scoff paints his lips as he steps closer, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly like he is taken by surprise from the sudden change of heart you seemingly underwent. Maybe it is just that no one has ever tried to talk back to him, knowing it leads practically nowhere. You know that as well, but the need to try and scream for the smallest drop of understanding, maybe even reassurance overcomes you with the sudden confrontation.

"Understanding? I think you are the one that needs to understand. Grow up, the world isn´t made to adapt and cradle you" It´s now your turn to scoff, your head shaking with a laugh of disbelief.

"That is exactly what I meant. The way my life is, I am well aware, mr. Jeon, that the world does not give a fuck about its people. Maybe, just maybe you know" you pause, searching his face for reaction as the frustration boils up, begging to be led out. As expected, it reads nothing. "You could try to see things apart from yourself, not everyone lives a life like yours"

"Oh my god, you poor little thing hm? What is it, lost your Phone? Got broken up with? People like you will find anything, anything in order to avert the blame. Its so-" he stops, his eyes darkening, the tattooed hand slips out of his pocket to swipe right through his hair. In a whisper of disgust, he resumes "...pathetic"

As a means to shield yourself from the way he spits out his words, your voice raises.

"Lost my home among other things, that good enough?" The words leave your mouth hurriedly, while wishing to be met with a soft smile. Stupidly enough, you know that´s very far from the reality that will weigh down on you in a matter of seconds. According to him, you are delusional anyways

The secret of yours that you had kept so warmly, so safely deep down in your mind had crept its way out your mouth, betraying you shamelessly. Not as shameless as the blatant lack of sympathy from the male stood in front of you.

" Good enough? Everyone has some shit they went through. You´re simply a loser, a lonely loser who cannot get over themselves. Get some help kid if you can´t do things for yourself but stop expecting people to let everything slide because of your helplessness. This huge victim complex of yours is infuriating. Did you expect me to cry and say oh what a cruel world, you poor little girl, i will let you pass my class?" Relentlessly he rants, with every word the sound of a distant laughter in your mind grows.

Regret.

Every second that passes he manages to give you further proof that you were never to find a spot in people's uselessly stern hearts.

Stammering to leave, the only words you manage to utter are "You´re heartless" mustering the courage to look at him is as far gone as your belief in his existence of ability to care.

Out, you want out of this wall tightening lecture hall that´s suffocating you with the strong hands of his stern voice.

"Good thing I don´t rely on the validation of others. I´m suspending you from this class to save you some work you would not do anyways" he turns sharply, walking back to his desk.

Parallel to him, you storm out of the University. Anywhere, anywhere is better right now.

Clouded by the tears of your resurfacing past you run along the streets. History repeats itself, the cycle of trust and naitivity is your biggest weakness.

Giving a way a piece of you for someone to keep safe, for someone to listen to, to care,

It has never worked before.

Stupid.

On and on unsure at this point if you were running from his words or ones of your own mind. They laugh at you, telling you their "I told you so"

Being powered simply by fear, and really, only fear, is far from enough to keep running, but you can´t stop. You can´t see either. Apparently, neither can the biker that runs into you, knocking you cold to the ground.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"She really did not show up, expected, Good." he mumbles to himself while sorting the material on his desk. The small cubicle like space in the teachers workroom is decorated with photographs of his very own camera. Simple, organized, plain.

"Who did not?" Mrs. Park´s curious voice rings next to him, as his fellow art subject teacher, they share most of their students.

Nosy, he thinks.

"Lee Y/n. I suspended her recently and I-"

"You mean the girl from the accident?" casually she mentions it.

The cut off on the other hand, is sharp and unexpected. Jungkook is shocked for one, because someone interrupted him and two, because of the mention of you in an accident.

"Excuse me, an accident?" mentally cursing at himself for appearing to show interest in the situation, he diverts his attention to the teacher next to him. It must be a misunderstanding.

"Jungkook with all due respect how did you think a girl lying in the hospital for the past three days is going to show up to your class? You and your high expectations" She shakes her head, having completely misjudged the situation. Surprisingly, that is not his priority.

"Three days? How come I have not heard of this? How unreliable" He scoffs, old habits die hard, certainly for Jeon Jungkook.

Mrs. Park hums, reluctantly whispering "Probably because people are.. speculating. She has lots of problems , if you understand what im trying to say" it is subtle, fleeting, but her eyes glance up at him with the raise of an eyebrow

It flashes to Jungkooks as briefly as his coworkers judgemental eyes. His mind goes on to remember his conversation, well, argument with that stupidly helpless student of his.

Three days ago.

Mentally, he shakes his head.

Bullshit.

Even if she tried something, he isn´t to blame.

Right?

"Anyways, I think she is in Incheon hospital now. I might visit her later, she used to be in my literature course" Mrs. Park voice fades out as she stands up to leave.

Doumbfounded he sits there, tied to the chair by the revelation that he might have sent someone to a hospital.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

I can not believe I´m driving to the fucking hospital. He curses at himself while punching in the address of Incheon hospital onto his phone. It´s okay Jungkook, you´re doing this for YOUR sanity. Has nothing to do with that idiot. The words keep reassuring him of his selfishness, maybe trying to convince him that what he is feeling is not empathy, no, it is just to soothe his mind.

Why was he anxious in the first place? Not like it would make a change.

And so, 25 minutes of staring blankly at the road commence.

Blankly, because he needed to focus.

Blankly because he was not willing to face the possibilties his thoughts hold at the moment.

When he finally arrives, the huge metal doors welcome him in.

Straight to the receptionist he goes, asking for your room, providing proof of acquaintance with the patient.

What a hassle it was to gather everything, he remembers

And yet it does not stop him from heading up to the second floor.

Having just woken up from your second nap of the day, you audibly groan when the door opens, expecting to see a nurse.

"What the fuck" staring at your asshole photography teacher that is, somehow, in your hospital room.

"Good afternoon to you as well" he replies, as always, far removed from any and all emotion.

"Am I having a nightmare?" Questioning the validity of this surely odd situation, you sit up, combing through your hair. He Sighs, removing his coat and sitting at the chair across from your hospital bed. He would never dare to think he should ask if you even find it tolerable he is there.

He wants to speak to you, so he will.

"No, unfortunately not" Without knowing what to say further, because frankly he does not even know why he came here, he remains silent.

"Did you seriously come here? For what, to tell me to go to school because everyone has accidents and i need to get over myself?" The bitterness of your words match the usual one of his own, tainted ones. However this time, his eyes shift briefly.

Worry.

You think, at least.

"I get it, I was an asshole. Don´t tell me you jumped in front of a biker because of it" the strong, decorated hand of his makes it´s way to rub against his forehead as his voice comes out in a low groan of frustration. No need to sugarcoat, this is all he needed to know from you. Right?

Deciding to use it for a little revenge, you leave his semi question uncommented.

"Came here to apologize? Soothe that non existent conscious of yours, mr. Jeon?" his eyes dart up to meet yours, is it as though he really believes his words may have been the cause.

Regret, maybe. If he is capable of such.

"Fuck seriously? Yes, okay. I came here because" he stops, his tongue pressing the inside of his cheeks as he looks out into the window. The words leave his mouth without him even knowing that prior to hearing it out loud, that is what he felt.

"because I got worried that I made someone try to..." he cannot bring himself to finish that sentence.

"Is that really what people are saying? God that´s awful how am I supposed to go back to College with this being my reputation" small, barely audible you chuckle.

"Ah, no. Well.. partially i guess. I ran out after the hatred you threw at me and unlucky me, your so called cruel world strikes again" At the quoting of his words you make a mockery out of his monotone voice, the absurdity of this conversation still not catching up to you.

"Don´t worry, if that is even possible for you, I will just get over my accident" With an annoyed laugh, Jungkook stands up to stand in front of your hospital bed directly, hands in his slack pockets ever so casually but somehow, dominantly.

"I get it you idiot, I was an awful guy that day, my god give me a break. I came here, all the way here to fucking try and talk to you, give me a chance" his eyes look down at you, bored, plain. His mouth betraying him once more, spilling the unknown truth from his plump pierced lips.

"You sure have a way of asking for things. I want you out quick so, make it fast will you mr, Jeon" your reply makes him tilt his head to the side quickly, muttering a finally under his breath.

"I decided to not suspend you. And I´m deciding that maybe, you should tell me your circumstances. I´m not going to be held accountable if you try some shit"

This is about him, of course.

Just now he's taking an actual look at you, trying to decipher how hurt you really are, he would never bother to ask though.

The bruises on your arms become visibile to him, looking them up and down with tightly pressed eyebrows. They look older, some of them appear fresh.

Is she being hurt? his mind wanders

A snort from you makes him snap out of his thoughts "What? So you can laugh at it?"

He groans in response, "If you stopped being so stubborn and listened to me maybe you would know why. I´m taking your advice god damn it, I´m trying to build understanding" both hands are now running through his longer hair, the frustration of the wall you build up almost making him give up. Deep down, he knows he can´t blame you. The consequences of his own actions are catching up to him slowly, just as the realization of his heart softening ever so slightly does.

Silence fills the room, being the loudest sound to present itself.

"Fine" you roll your eyes at him. Unlike him, you want to show some grace, show him that yeah, it is possible to go through shit and need help. Sometimes people need to be ripped out of their tunnel vision egocentric world to understand their flaws. At the same time, you worry your good heart will once again only lead you too give more than you should be.

"Took you long enough" he remarks snarkily

"Nevermind then"

"Oh my god"

You laugh at his response, making eye contact with him as he laughs too. Small that is, before catching himself doing so. Still, it made a smile try to creep up your lips at the unfamiliar sound.

"That was a first" as if you´d pass up a chance to embarrass him.

"Don´t mention it" returning to his habits as always, the stern teacher voice is perfectly matching his lurking stance. ´´You´re below me´´ practically radiating off of him. What a shame, you had just begun to find him pleasant.

"Okay so, summary: Was admitted into our shitty foster system, got a whole bunch of friendship trauma, had to run away from said foster horror house and am now basically homeless in a women´s shelter. Oh and before you ask, I have a scholarship. I may be poor but I am not a criminal" the hands up in a surrendering pose make up for the awkwardly tense situation after having revealed something so personal to your photography teacher. For the second time. Right now, it´s impossible to tell what he is thinking.

Nodding he starts off his sentence,

"you were right that is a lot. Fuck, now i get why you called me a heartless asshole. Had no idea a twenty-one year old can already live that much shit. I swear, I was convinced you were bullshitting because you just did not care about my class" his rambling turns into muttering when he makes his way back to sit down on the chair, the usually bored eyes of his look softer now, while his words are as insensitive as they have always been.

"You are meaning to tell me that outburst you had on me was because you were pressed i didn´t take your class seriously? I just suck at photography, but i tried" in a subconscious motion your hand clutches your chest melodramatically, a slight smirk tugging on the side of Jungkook´s mouth.

"I know you suck, saw all of those awful collages. I did mean some things I said, someone needs to teach you how to grit your teeth and stand up for yourself, would have taken you seriously much sooner" His deep brown eyes roll with the memory of your conversation, sighing deeply he shakes his head.

Oddly enough, his truthful joke about your inability for photography makes your heart a little warmer. The belittling presence of his turning into a much closer, normal one. While the distance of his emotions is undeniable, the closeness of his growing interest in your life is as well. His mind is occupied with your conversation, unable to focus on his only mission, that is to protect who he is. The mask slips but really, does he still feel like wearing it?

"If that is what you tried to express someone needs to teach you how to empathize and communicate with people, mr. Jeon"

He wants to leave the mask off for just a little longer

"Jungkook" his first name slips out of his lips seamlessly, in the heat of the moment, lost in the fact that for some reason, he wants to understand you. Not in a suggestion, he´s still Jungkook, no is not an option if he set his mind to it. He´s demanding you to adapt to him

"What?"

"Call me Jungkook. We have been far from professional anyways. Calling me mister and all that formal shit makes it weird" his face scrunches up briefly, the embarrassment of acting more like a highschool bully than a teacher is slowly catching up to him.

You can´t help but laugh softly at this whole mess. In a hospital, constantly fighting while simultaneously trauma unpacking with your heartless, maybe not so heartless after all photography teacher who now wants you to call him by his first name.

Cruel world, as he puts it.

"Sure, Jungkook" his name leaves your lips in way so naturally it makes him jump inside.

What the fuck?

"I guess we could learn a lot from each other then, idiot" never failing to remind you of his stance on your personality, the sound echos in the room when his eyes meet yours,

but it is not his eyes that matter in his moment, they have returned to their stern nature long ago,

It is the fact that he softened his voice, as if he was afraid to let you in his mind. As if it was only possible for him to let one small spot of his soften at a time,

While you were just as afraid,

"Yeah. Deal?"

He naturally irritated face showing up to greet you once more

"Seriously? What are you, 12?"

"With the way you're acting i should be asking you that"

Unamused, he manages to mutter out

"Deal"

It's like the nurse had waited for you to be done before entering the room, informing you that visitor time is up and Jungkook needs to leave. Your eyes dart to his as he puts on the coat he had hung up previously, thanking the nurse before shifting his body slightly to hover over your sitting form.

"See you in class then" with that, he leaves you to rethink everything that had happend the past days. More over, he leaves you wondering just how honest he was about the little deal you guys made.

[hopepaigeturner]

Benedict:

Sophie: I mean... it's just a hollandaise sauce babe...right?

Benedict: How do you like your eggs, Soph? Sophie: Benedict.

[simp-ly-writes]

Gentle-Fellow's

─────── · · A Smosh Fanfic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You, Spencer and your fellow cast mates Angela and Shayne all star in yet another Don't Win Mario Party, Gentlemen addition!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, part social media au, use of dated terms as comedy, swearing, smoking, fluff, attempt at humour, cute.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,463

─ · · A/N: thank you so much for the ask, anon! sorry it took so long, had to brainstorm some jokes and scenarios but it was a load of fun! 😄

─────── · ·

"Oi! 'ello Chaps, I'm here with my fellow gentle-lads and t'day we'll be playing some good old fashion mario party, just how I like my liquor-" you began to intro to the camera before Spencer was slapping you gently on the shoulder, his body acting out more impact than you actually received but you still fell off the couch for comedic benefit as he put his shoes up on your supposed 'corpse' in good taste.

"Well enough with what that fellow was going on about, I must say we shall play. This game is better suited for a trio rather than a quartet- the same philosophy can also be said for working in the navy. Was much better to night-watch with a trio-"

"Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount. I have yet to try four but it sounds you would not recommend?" Shayne leans forwards on the couch to fully face Spencer who adjusts his tophat while looking down at you, silently asking if you were okay while laying down off camera. You shot him a smile upwards, rolling over and returning back to the couch.

"Yes, I would not recommend such activities. Too many men with not enough places to go and scope out. Much better to have three, did you not serve to learn this?" Spencer asks with a tilt to his head, his top hat already falling off again as you hold back a chuckle to his playful glare in your direction.

"I in fact did serve! I was a leader, and I good one at that too. Took my whole group to one of the colonies, we had to strip ourselves of layers from how humid the climate was," Shayne clarified, pretending to light his cigar as Spencer lit his own, passing his lighter towards you.

"Thank you, gentleman," you responded, lighting your two cigarettes, wearing them like vampire fangs that had Angela near tears at the end of the couch. "I do remember being down to my undergarments at multiple points with my men, I'll have you know we were all in position within the ama-zone. Quite the discoveries we made there, so uncivilized."

"AYE!" Angela corrected, pointing a finger, her moustache slipping down her face, "I'll have you know my third mistress is from those parts, and she is the best. You mustn't make such hastily claims gentlemen, it is unbecoming of you!"

You nod your head, "yes, yes, very unbecoming. What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work," you continue as Angela agrees with a huff, the game seemingly long forgotten as you all carry through conversation, trying your darnedest not to break character.

"Ah yes, I think I have a son or two, I can't quite remember. I think to name them all William, a strong English name," Shanye comments once you all get... gently reminded to play the game you intro-ed over half an hour ago, you hoped that the editors would be able to find something distinguishable in these files.

─────── · ·

"I do believe it is your turn, gentleman," Spencer comments, casting you a wink. "My, I have seen to misplaced that powered-device. Does anyone see it?" Everyone starts to feel around the dips in the couch, Spencer was the first to stand, walking closer to the cameras from where you rolled to during the introduction bit and comes back with your controller, dipping it towards you with a bow.

"Thank you, my, you must be quite the bachelor, charming a fellow like me, oh my," you add with heated cheeks as Spencer returns to your side, his leg nocking against your own as you shout out in disbelief to obtaining a star you DID NOT want. "This is outrageous, I demand a re-play of my turn! I did not intend-"

"We must play by the rules," Shayne cuts you off, tilting his hat down as you stick out your tongue. Angela is focused on not winning the next mini game as you and Shayne continue your staring contest in the following two rounds before you claim victory. "Haha! I have trained with only the best, you can read a lot about another man through his eyes. Have you been hunting before? I love that wild look." Spencer jumps to respond.

"Yes, I must say, you really can tell a lot..." and in that moment you both look at one another. Shayne and Angela are both screaming over something on the screen but you both sound it out, lost in this little moment before realizing your both won... or well lost.

"It appear we have lost," Spencer says, emitting a sigh. "No, I would say we have won," you tease loving the way his cheeks heat up to his ears before you both return to the game more driven then ever to not win.

─────── · ·

Jokes have you all toppling the couch at some point from your rambunctious laughter, Angela is struggling to breathe through her sentence much similar to you over just how funny Spencer manages to be wearing sweatpants and a cheap half tux.

Spencer immediately went to protect your head with his arm as you all fell backwards with a large crash, the crew all gasped out in shock before your laughter only grew more boisterous. "I think I hear a little man again," Shayne comments, forcing himself upright to look over the couch as stars begun to be distributed.

Like snipers at position you all kneeled, your eyes only visible from the turned over couch. Top hats giving away your cover and you had placed second, falling back to the ground in fake shock and relief. Spencer teased mouth to mouth that had you pressing a hand to his mouth and narrowed your eyes at his large ones filled with glee and adoration.

─────── · ·

Angela had lost in the end in first place. you second place. Shayne in third and Spencer being the ultimate winner in fourth.

"FUCK!" and the video ended abruptly to quickly cute to her wearing a dog cone while trying to light a cigarette, only for them to keep collecting down by her neck.

"Thank you all for viewing our game time today, I have had the most splendid time today with you chaps, as I hope you all have ventured the same?" Shayne asks the now upright couch and cast.

"Yes, I was quite filled with delight," you replied, nodding your head and tipping your hat to everyone on the sofa.

"I do agree with my fellow gentleman, here" Spencer replies, clapping you on the wrist this time, very much close to holding your hand, your fingers interlacing while watching Angelas 'winning' speech.

"I hate you all-"

"Why that id not very gentlemanly of you, do you wish to handle these matters outside in more space for our thoughts?" Shayne rebuttles.

"Yes, I rather have a few thoughts to show you," Angela challenged, brow raised as she begins to roll up her sleeves, Shayne doing the same. Alex closes the video by panning upwards and the screen fades to black.

─────── · ·

🔔 Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Gentleman's Rules: Don't Win Mario Party (Again!)

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 67k | 👎 7.78M subscribers 300k views 1 week ago only the politest of games... click to read more

1,110 Comments

username01 (name) and Spencer out here being the cutest even while cosplaying as colonizers, iconic behaviour you two!

username88 09:45 "Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount" - Shayne Topp 2024

↳ username70 OMG why did I not catch this earlier LMAO 🤣 ↳ username91 or what about 20:01 " What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work..." - (name) was UNREAL for sayin' this XD ↳ username70 OMG YES! 🙌😂

username22 I don't know about you but I'm feeling like I'm ready for a whole series of just this cast and just this game. I have had this video and repeat since it's come out! Please. Make. More. 🙏

username14 Literally so in love with how gentle Spencer was being with (name), dropping the persona to held them find their controller and even making sure they didn't fall hard?? 😭

↳ username91 and did anyone notice those little winks? UGH 😩

username40 this is not good material to be eating to, almost choked from laughing so hard, would not recommend.

userame66 That little exchange about seeing into one another's eyes was so poetic, like that bit did not need to go that hard 💗

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp

[haikyu-mp4]

Knight in a borrowed suit

word count; 1215 – f!reader wearing a dress, inspired by New Girl

He stood you up. After taking up a table for over an hour, sitting in the middle of the restaurant and on show for everyone to watch as you tried your best to stop the tears from escaping, you’re sure that he stood you up. With an elegant dress, hair dolled up and impeccable makeup compared to what you usually did, you had been so excited for this date with a man you truly thought was interested. The two of you had gone out once or twice before and you were hoping it could grow into something, make you forget about that one unattainable volleyball player your heart beat a bit louder for. But it seemed not even people without status were interested for long. Maybe you came on too strong? Did you laugh too loud? Whatever it was, you weren’t sure you deserved this humiliation.

The waiter came over again with the same pitiful smile, and you knew she would politely ask you to leave. With a straightened back and tears at bay, you pursed your lips so she wouldn’t feel too bad about it.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but unless you want to order, we have to give up your table,” she said, trying to speak as low as possible so all the people eyeing you wouldn’t be too entertained.

“That’s okay, I appreciate your patience,” you said, putting your purse on the table so you could pay for the wine glass you had when a voice rang out through the restaurant.

“Wait! I’m so sorry I’m late.” Oh, you knew that voice very well. Your head snapped in his direction, a small tear finally escaping the brim of your eye to trickle down and caress your smile. A very thankful smile.

It wasn’t your original date, it was Miya Atsumu.

He smoothed his hands over his suit, trying to catch his breath as he came over to your side, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before moving to the other side and gesturing to the waiter. His hair was a bit messy, and his tie wasn’t very well tied, but he was handsome nonetheless. It was also Osamu’s suit, so it didn’t fit him like a glove. “Please excuse me and leave the menus. I’ll make sure to tip well for the wait,” he said, more professionally before finally sitting down. Your eyes had followed him the whole way, wide with wonder that he came to save you. It felt like you were in some romantic comedy.

About 1 hour earlier

Atsumu was never happy about that new manager asking you out, and much less about you agreeing to it. Could you not see he was going through a perfectly planned 14-step process of asking you out? You had known each other since the day he started playing for the Black Jackals and he felt like there was a spark between you. He found you beautiful even when you weren’t dressed up for anything special, and you always had a great sense of humour. Nothing could brighten his day quite like making you laugh, a feeling he would even compare to a perfect service ace.

So when he saw that slimy manager in the gym, laughing with his friend after seemingly picking something up when he was supposed to be with you, he had to stop himself from getting violent. “No way man, she was way too much. I swear I’ll hear her laugh ringing in my ears for weeks, and that ain’t a good thing.” your original date said to the other guy, and Atsumu took in a few deep breaths to calm down before running to the locker room. He hit speed dial and held the phone to his ear, happy Osamu picked up quickly.

“What?” he snapped.

“There’s no time to explain, I need you to get me a suit.”

Now here he was, sitting across from you with red ears and a slightly nervous smile. He had finally caught his breath when he looked at you properly, taking in every blink of your eyelashes and how your shoulders looked so kissable under the dress straps. “Wow,” he breathed out, feeling more breathless than he did after running all the way to the restaurant. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you, Atsumu,” you said affectionately, leaning your arms on the table in a desperate attempt to get just a little closer to him. You looked happy, he thought, but it was painted with uncertainty. “But… why are you here?”

Atsumu took a moment to answer, thinking back to what he heard before and trying not to let the angry emotions ruin this moment. “I’m taking a beautiful woman on the date she deserves,” he answered.

You didn’t need to know how he knew you were stood up, because now all you could think of was how real it felt. The universe granted you a chance to pretend Atsumu was there for you and not just because he’s a good guy.

It genuinely felt like that as you talked the night away, sharing food and ordering whatever wine they recommended as you talked about the things you never had time for at work. Your laugh was melodic to him, it’s what he imagined he would hear if he ever got into heaven. Unfortunately, you weren’t quite sold on him being there out of his own interest. So as you two stepped out of the restaurant at the end of the night, you said “Thank you for saving my date, Tsumu. You didn’t have to but I had a great time.”

Atsumu grinned, so hopelessly enchanted with your smile. “It was my pleasure, honestly,” he said, and it felt a bit too polite to you.

“If you want, I won’t tell anyone. You were probably just being nice,” you said with a forced chuckle, revealing more of your emotions than you planned.

“What?” he asked, grin diminishing as he tried to understand.

“You’re a good friend, I don’t want to assume there is anything more.”

“No!” It was now or never. He looked at you like you were the sun and he was the moon, desperately trying to reach for you and never quite making it; frustratedly. It left you speechless, staring at him with parted lips and trying to take in enough air to support your rising heartbeat. “I want to take you on more dates. I want to spend most of my time with you, actually. And I want to kiss you, fuck I want to kiss you so bad.” his eyes went to your lips and back up, and your pulse quickened even more, frozen like a deer in headlights from the sudden confession. Atsumu stepped closer, hands hovering over your hips like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. “I really really like you.”

“Tsumu,” you breathed out, a wide smile blinding him to the level that his eyes started watering from its light. “I like you too, I always have.”

Safe to say that the manager who stood you up would lose his job by next week, but you wouldn’t even look in his direction when you had Atsumu’s constant affection. Sometimes, the universe has a plan, and luckily, Atsumu’s 14-step plan was cut down to 3.

masterlist

[prettypumpum]

Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence,

Word count: 1,031

"I'll be back on Monday! No funny business, no parties, and the pizza money is in the drawer by the hallway!" Wade shouted, slamming the car door before walking away.

"Finally," Logan muttered, his gaze still fixed on the windshield, his face impassive.

I glanced at Laura in the rearview mirror. Even if he'd never admit it, Logan enjoyed Wade and his antics in his own way.

"So, how’s it going at the Institute?" I asked Laura, hoping to break the heavy silence.

“It’s fine,” she replied, stopping at a red light, her eyes glued to the road.

Logan eventually broke the silence, almost reluctantly. “It’s a good place. They can help you settle in.”

“You guys are welcome too,” she retorted as the light turned green. “They could help you with your powers. Besides, they’re short-staffed. They could use someone to handle a bunch of teens… especially teens with superpowers,” she added, casting a pointed look at Logan.

He clenched his jaw. “That’s all behind me.”

In the rearview mirror, I saw Laura’s face fall slightly, as if she regretted bringing it up. A bitter silence settled, heavy with memories. I knew that as soon as we got dropped off, Logan would probably head straight to a bar to forget.

“How about we order a pizza?” I suggested to the two mutants in the front, hoping to lighten the mood.

They glanced back at me in the mirror, a fleeting smile on their faces.

A few hours later, we were all sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes scattered on the coffee table.

“Comedy or horror?” Laura asked, the remote in one hand and a slice of pineapple pizza in the other.

“Put on whatever you want,” Logan replied, cracking open another beer.

She looked at me for my opinion, and I just shrugged with a smile, content with the relaxed vibe. She scrolled through the options on the screen. Beside me, Logan was relaxed, his dark eyes fixed on the TV. The white T-shirt he was wearing suited him surprisingly well, and I could feel his arm brushing against mine, an innocent but electrifying touch.

With each quick glance at him, memories of the bar came back to me, and I found myself imagining what might have happened if Wade hadn’t interrupted us. These thoughts wrapped me in a warm haze.

Finally, Laura settled on a horror movie. *Scream*, a classic, perfect for a pizza night. But I was having a hard time focusing. My attention kept drifting back to Logan, sitting so close.

“These kids are so stupid,” Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer.

“That’s what everyone says watching horror movies, but I’m not sure teenage me would’ve done any better,” I replied, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Between rehearsals and dance classes, I barely had time to sleep. Killing someone… well, that was even less likely.”

He smirked. “That explains so much.”

"Right? So, tell us about teenage you in Canada, back when there was no electricity or running water," I teased with a playful smile.

Laura was watching us, a smile on her face, finding our exchange more interesting than the movie. Logan and I exchanged a few knowing smiles before she stood up.

“I’m gonna grab a soda,” she said, slipping into the kitchen and leaving us alone in this intimate moment.

"She’s great," I said, watching the door she had just disappeared through.

“Yeah,” he replied, his face hardening, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Hey,” I said, placing my hand on his, reminding him of our promise from the bar.

He looked up at me, surprised. “I’m okay,” he murmured. “But… sometimes, it all just gets to be too much.”

I nodded, feeling the depth of his unease.

“I know.” My thumb brushed his hand softly. His gaze, dark and intense, held secrets he dared not share.

I looked up, and our eyes met. His usually guarded stare softened, revealing fatigue and invisible scars. He broke the silence, his voice low:

“It’s rare… to feel this good.”

He squeezed my hand gently, as if to reassure himself that this moment was real.

Our gazes locked, the silence between us loaded with unspoken emotions. I felt almost trembling under his look. Logan, usually so distant, was looking at me differently, with a glimmer I’d never noticed before.

“Hey,” Laura said, coming back from the kitchen and breaking the spell between Logan and me. “Sorry, but I have to go,” she announced, holding up her phone.

“Everything okay?” Logan asked, his face concerned.

“Yeah, I totally forgot my friend Taylor was supposed to help me with my shopping.”

Logan nodded with a murmur, but his skepticism was clear. “Take some pizza with you; there’s too much for the two of us,” I said, quickly getting up to pack some for her.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing the boxes. “Tonight was fun… we should do it again sometime.” I nodded, smiling, holding the door open for her as she struggled with the boxes. “See you soon.”

Logan and I, now alone, stood there, our eyes fixed on the closed door for a moment. “That was a lie, right?” Logan asked.

“You never lied to go see your crush?” I shot back with a mischievous smile.

“So, you were one of those bad girls who lied to mess with boys?” he replied, his intense gaze locked onto mine.

My breathing quickened, my body warming. My breath was short; I wanted nothing more than to throw myself at him and kiss him.

“I… I need to go to the laundry room,” I said, unable to hold his gaze any longer, using the excuse of a basket of dirty laundry left out.

He nodded, seeming to collect himself, and watched me pick up the basket as I fled. “I’ll take a shower,” he said as I darted out of the apartment.

When I got to the hallway, I realized I’d forgotten the detergent in my hurry. Returning to the apartment, I walked straight into Logan, shirtless, coming out of the bathroom.

“Sorry… I forgot the…” I was unable to look away from his hairy chest and toned muscles.

[certainlynotasimp]

HIIIII! Okay so this idea has been living rent free in my head. But what if Miguel was away on a mission, and Sunny saw it as an opportunity to go ahead and jam out with headphones/earbuds/AirPods. Sunny’s a pretty good singer she just.. doesn’t like bringing it to people’s attention much. And I recommend listening to Can’t Tame Her by Zara Larsson. Sunny’s having the time of her life singing and dancing. Miguel gets back, and Sunny’s still jamming out until she eventually turns around and practically screams seeing him just standing there and all embarrassed 😂 what happens after that is completely up to you.

Dance With Me

(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: I'm BACK!! lol. I'm so sorry for the long wait on your request and I absolutely love this song!! Such a bop. I honestly changed some details of your request and I added some details that my lovely Latinx spiderlings mentioned.

A/N: If you guys wanna read some more of my stuff, check out my master list. I have closed the tag list, but if you guys want live updates, a meeting place for simps, and maybe get your ideas added to fics, then come join the discord!

WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/ Female Pronouns, Pregnancy, Fluff, Embarrassing situation, and Deepl Translated Spanish ((Y'all let me know if the translations are better with this new site some of y'all recommended.))

~~~~~~~~~

“¿Segura que vas a estar bien sola, mami?” Are you sure you're going to be alright on your own, mami? Miguel mumbles as he looks at his love standing by the oven. His eyes cautiously watch her hips sway softly as she hums softly to herself and makes her French toast. Her swollen stomach makes her movements seem more imbalanced.

“I’m sure, Miggy.” The heavily pregnant woman reassures her love. The woman turned back to her worried lover as he stood by the door in his blue spider suit.

Hitting the third trimester of pregnancy has led to Miguel becoming more of a protective force than he was before. He already had to fight his stubborn little sunshine to be benched during the first two months of her pregnancy, which resulted in the compromise of her moving into this apartment to appease both of them. Now in the sixth month of bringing this new little life into the world, the man had to basically be pried away from his apartment in order for him to go on missions outside of his dimension.

For example, if there wasn’t another Spot on the loose again, Miguel would be content with staying home with his girls and gorging on the trashy romantic comedies that she kept playing on repeat. Of course, he would never voice his disdain for the films. Not when he gets to see her eyes light up in delight as her voice floods the apartment in laughter.

“You really don’t need to worry about us, mi amor.” She calmly assures him as she wraps her arms around him. Her bump made it difficult for her to embrace him, but the little flutter of feet against his abdomen made up for it. “We always know that Papi will always keep us safe.” She mutters as her bright smile cuts through Miguel’s heart.

Cupping her face, Miguel whispers softly, “¿Qué hice para merecerte?” What did I do to deserve you? He presses gently kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and lips as she giggles at the feathery light affection. Miguel knees down and pressed a firm kiss on her bump while whispering, “Pórtate bien, Estrellita. No quiero que le causes muchos problemas a tu mami mientras no estoy.” Be good, little star. I don't want you to cause your mommy too much trouble while I'm gone.

A strong kick meets Miguel’s lips unexpectedly as he chuckles at Maria’s attempt to tell her father to get on the road. 

Standing up, He gives his love another kiss before heading out. As he swings away, the pregnant woman looks down at her bump and mumbles.

“Now that Papa is gone, we can have some fun.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Lyla, si vuelves a mandarme a algún sitio así, te pondré en el monitor de bebés de Mayday.” Lyla, if you ever send me anywhere like that again, I will put you into Mayday's baby monitor. Miguel seethes as he limps out of the portal with the rest of the team.

The mission was a lot more difficult than the team was briefed on. They knew that The Spot was involved, but Lyla didn’t mention Doctor Octavious and a Prowler would be there as well. Miguel had handled the two while the others worked to capture The Spot, but the task wasn’t easy as the large claw marks along his sides and heavy bruising proved. Luckily, they managed to capture the enemies, but everyone receive a significant amount of damage. 

Lyla laughs as she plays with some weird virtual version of a toy Gwen had yesterday. The annoying popping of the rubber bubbles causes Miguel’s already sour mood to worsen as she muses, “ No need to fuss, Miggy. You guys are still alive and ready to kick ass tomorrow.”

“I don’t think being alive is a good thing right now…” Pavitr groans as he plops onto the floor as Hobie grumbles beside him about his destroyed guitar.

Jess rolls her eyes as she plops herself in Miguel’s normal spot by the monitor and throws Miguel a knowing glance.

“Why don’t you head on home, Migue?’ Jess offers which causes him to look at her a little surprised. “You need to be home with Sunny. Believe me, I understand how uncomfortable she is right now.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Miguel argues, “What about your-”

“My husband can handle Little Bit while I finish this report.” Jessica shuts him down as she shoots him a familiar glare he recognizes from his own mother. God, he hopes his sweet sunny doesn’t develop a glare like that. She would have him running for his money.

Miguel silently thanks his friend as he leaves, opting to swing home instead of the portal. Deciding to pick up some takeout from her favorite restaurant on the way.

~~~~~~~~

As Miguel approaches the door to their apartment, the soft buzz of pop music filters through the thick walls of the building. His eyebrow quirks up as he softly opens the door. The young black and white mass of fur greets with silent chirps as Miguel shushes him. He closes the door quietly as he kneels down and scratches behind the cat’s ears. 

“¿Qué hacían nuestras chicas mientras yo no estaba, Moony?” What were our girls doing while I was gone, Moony? He coos as he stands up and places the bags of food on the counter.

Moony runs off as the soft voice he loves fills the apartment. 

“Don't need no one, she can dance on her own

Club is closin', but she ain't goin' home

Night is still young, where the hell will she go?

Nobody knows nobody knows”

The hyper-pop music boomed from the sound system as Miguel rounds the corner and his face splits into a bright grin. His red eyes soften as he watches his pregnant love freely dancing around the living room with a pint of ice cream in her hand. His worn sweater consumes her frame as she twirls and blurts out lyrics.

“Can't tame her magic energy

She's so magnetic, pulls you in every time (every time)

Every time (every time)

But she don't care, she gonna do what she wants (she wants)”

Watching her ridiculously move with a large bump almost made Miguel chuckle, but he didn’t want to disturb her yet. He waits for her to twirl one more time before stalking toward their bedroom. 

She continues her private concert as she shoves a spoonful of ice cream before using it as a microphone. The utter giddy from these past few months filled her being as she sings out.

“And you can't tie her down

When the night comes around (around)

Said she gonna party all night (all night)

And you can't change her

Can't blame her, can't tame her”

A pair of warm arms wrap around her waist as her heart stops in her chest for a moment before a warm purr rumbles in his chest. She relaxes as her purring lover mumbles, “Parece que tuviste un día divertido, mi amor.” You look like you had a fun day, my love.

“I did.” I giggle as she can feel his hips sway to the music with hers, playfully dancing with her. His warm hands gently rub her stomach as their little one happily greets her father with little kicks. “She’s gonna be ready to fight crime by the time she gets out of there.” She jokes through a particularly hard kick. The mother was now sure that Maria is gonna be as strong as Miguel with the bruises she was starting to have.

“Bien. Quiero que aleje a todos esos niñatos de ella hasta que tenga treinta años.” Good. I want her to fight all of those little boys away from her until she's thirty. Miguel grumbles as he thinks about his little girl possibly dating little punks in the future.

“Papi, she’s not even here yet and you’re already so protective.” She giggles as she turns around in his arms. Her eyes light up as she’s met with her grumpy boyfriend’s bare chest and low-hanging joggers, but a pout appears as she sees the large claw marks and bruises running on his sides.

“Por supuesto que sí.” Of course, I am. Miguel smiles mischievously as the music transitions into a familiar upbeat tune that causes his love’s concern to fade to amusement. “Tengo que proteger a mis hijas y mostrarles cómo los hombres de verdad tratan a sus hijas.”  I have to protect my girls and show them how real men treat their girls.

A whirlwind of laughter fills the room as Miguel starts to pull her into the Cumbia. Her moments of imbalance missteps were soothed by his strong hands as he catches her. The couple spend their evening in each other’s arms dancing and loving their growing family.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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[hollow-point-heart]

I finished it, it made my flatmate chuckle so success. God bless writers duet for having a comprehensive ui but fuck them for not letting me have more then like five projects open at once.

One day I'm going to get halfway through a script and just throw my laptop out a window

[lazycats-stuff]

Baby bat who gets kidnapped by lex Luthor but has no clue what’s happening like he’s being taken to metropolis and baby bats is like are we thiere yet singing and being a menace

Thiere confused on why an ugly bald guy is taking them out but Luthor gets fed up and leaves the kid somewhere and they just vibe

Alright. Again, comedy is not my strong suit, but I will try. Also, a little digression, I hit 700 followers. Thanks everyone. Also, this will be under Batfamily

Summary: (Y/N) gets kidnapped by Lex Luthor. Lex gets more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Kidnapping, (Y/N) is supposed to be a menace, but author doesn't have a sense of humor... Author has tried.

It all began on a rainy Monday. Everything was worse due to universal law of Monday being the worst days of the week. Bruce thought it would be a normal day. He dropped his son off at the kindergarten, gave him a kiss to the forehead and went to work.

If only Bruce knew that 3 hours later, (Y/N) would be kidnapped by Lex Luthor and a search for the unknown kidnapper would begin. Bruce also passed out when he got a call. The others left school to come back to the manor to help his father track their youngest.

Lex Luthor was pleased with himself as he was driving towards Metropolis. He had successfully, well, not him personally, but his men, kidnapped the youngest member of the Wayne family. Bruce was the most protective and the rest of the brothers are protective too.

The fact that (Y/N) was with them since he was a baby, amplified that protectiveness ten times more. He glanced at rearview mirror, seeing that the toddler was awake.

" Good to see you awake. " Lex said, watching as the toddler rubbed his eyes with his balled up hands.

" Where are we going? " (Y/N) asked, looking out the window.

" Don't worry about that. " Lex said quickly.

There was a silence for a few moments. (Y/N) was swinging his feet, looking around.

" Are we there yet? "(Y/N) asked, looking the back of Lex's head.

" No. "

A few moments passed.

" Are we there yet? "

" No. "

" Are we there now? "

" No. " Lex said, turning on the radio for (Y/N).

" The music is too loud! " (Y/N) whined, making Lex sigh. He turned down the volume. After a few more moments, Lex felt a kick at the back of this seat. He had to take a deep breath.

" Stop it. "

It was calm for a few moments. Then the sit got kicked again.

" Stop it! Right now! " Lex growled out loudly.

" I need to go to the bathroom. " (Y/N) asked, looking at Lex. " Why are you bald? " (Y/N) also asked.

Lex took a deep breath.

" I was in an accident. That's all you need to know. " Lex said.

" I need to go to the bathroom. " (Y/N) whined, making Lex sighed.

" Well, you are going to wait! " Lex yelled at (Y/N), making (Y/N) cross his arms. Alright.

" How much longer? " (Y/N) asked, watching as Lex was loosing his patience.

" Shut up. Just shut up. "

" Can I have your phone? " (Y/N) asked, bouncing his knee.

" Absolutely not. " Lex said, disgusted at the mere thought of it. How does Bruce Wayne put up with this brat?

So what does (Y/N) do in this situation? He starts singing loudly. What did he start singing? Frozen's Let it go. It seems that was the last straw for Lex as he pulled over. He got out of the car and left (Y/N) on the road.

" I'm not doing this. " Lex said, getting back into the car. (Y/N) watched as he drove off, confused?

Who was this bald man? And where were they going? He looked down at his shoes. He wanted to see his dad. But he couldn't walk back.

" Uncle Clark? I need some help. Some bald guy kidnapped me. " (Y/N) said, out loud, turning around to look at trees behind him.

A minute after he said it, Clark landed next to him. " Are you okay? " Clark asked his nephew, looking him over.

" I'm okay. I just want to see my dad. " (Y/N) said, wrapping himself around Clark like a koala.

" And we will kiddo. Hold on tightly. "

" Gordon, I'm telling you, that is Lex Luthor's guy. " Bruce said, rubbing his face.

" I need official conformation that there is a connection. I can understand you are afraid for your son, but I can't act on your hunch." Gordon tried to explain to Bruce. Bruce sighed, sitting down at the office chair in Gordon's office.

" I get that, but... My son is with them. I don't know if he is alive or dead. I don't know if he is injured... I don't know... " Bruce said, worry and sadness clear in his voice.

" I ca- Oh my God. " Gordon trailed off, looking through the glass windows behind Bruce. Bruce turned around, eyes widening at the sight. Superman was holding his son.

Bruce got up and ran out of the office, smiling at the sight of his son. Superman handed the little boy to his father. Bruce embraced his son, fighting tears as he held him tightly.

" Thank you Superman. " Bruce whispered, kissing (Y/N)'s head.

" No problem mister Wayne. Also, he told me that a bald man kidnapped him. " Superman said, making Bruce turn around to give Gordon a look.

" I will speed it up. " Gordon said.

" Thank you. (Y/N), are you hurt? "Bruce asked his son.

" No dad. Can we go home? " (Y/N) asked. He was tired and he laid his head on Bruce's shoulder.

" Of course we can. " Bruce said, thanking Superman once more.

[boag]

I was a nick and disney sitcoms kid like 100% they were basically all I watched and I think one of the key differences between the disney channel sitcoms of my childhood and the nickelodeon sitcoms of my childhood is that nick shows always had super likable boy characters and disney shows rarely did with a few exceptions (like suite life). Most of the disney shows I watched just for the 1 or 2 main girl characters and for the different concepts they’d do the same tropes with like oh this one is a wizard this one’s a popstar whereas nick shows felt way more character and comedy driven in general to me and tended to have very strong ensemble casts which I much preferred to Disney’s approach of almost every supporting character being a bland blank slate of a person that they can use to drive the plot forward in whatever way. Like I can revisit Victorious as an adult and be like “omg I loved the Andre, Beck, and Robbie trio” but I will never look back on Hannah Montana and be like wow I love Jackson and Oliver KDJSJFJJDFKJS

[darlingshane]

Summary: Karen has sworn to never date anyone in the workplace ever again, but it's a rule that she might need to break when she starts her new job at Castle Motors as a marketing consultant.

CW: au - romantic comedy, fluff, crack, slow burn, friendship, drinking, workplace relationships, eventual romance, happy ending, frank and maria are divorced but have a good relationship. (and marketing, a lot of marketing.)

Word Count: 12,1k (first 10 chapters only)

A/N: This is based on a drabble I wrote a few years ago of the same title here (it was kind of a mess so don't check it out, just read this one instead). I always wanted to turn it into a longer fic. I'm working on the last couple of chapters, and it'll be done soon. You won't have to wait long to see those posted.

— Links: AO3 // Kastle Masterlist.

Excerpt from my favorite chapter (7):

When Karen had pitched the idea of putting Frank in front of the camera, she knew it was a gamble. Frank was the kind of CEO who preferred to stay behind the scenes, letting his work and the company speak for itself. But Karen was convinced that showcasing Frank as the face of the company would resonate with the public, making Castle Motors not just a brand, but a brand with a story and a leader people could trust.

Frank, however, had been less than enthusiastic. “Karen, my face isn’t exactly camera-friendly,” he had said with a wry smile. “Broken nose, giant head, satellite ears…”

“Stop it, you look like a young De Niro.” Karen chuckled but persisted, knowing that his rough-around-the-edges appearance and straightforward personality were precisely what would make him relatable and authentic. People didn’t need another polished, cookie-cutter CEO—they needed someone real.

Now, as she watched Frank fidget with the collar of his suit, Karen could tell he was out of his element. He’d been through makeup, his hair was slicked back, and the tailored suit, while well-fitted, seemed to restrict him. He looked like a man wearing someone else’s skin.

She approached him, her eyes scanning the nervous energy in his posture. “You okay?” she asked softly.

Frank sighed, glancing around at the crew bustling about. “This just isn’t me, Karen. I don’t feel right in this get-up.”

Karen smiled, understanding his discomfort. “You don’t have to be someone else, Frank. That’s not what this is about. We want people to see you—the real Frank Castle. Not some polished version.”

She reached out, tugging gently at the lapels of his suit jacket. “What if we lose the jacket and tie? Maybe unbutton a couple of buttons, get you back to feeling like yourself?”

Frank hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, that might help.”

He slipped off the jacket, draping it over a nearby chair, and loosened his tie before pulling it off completely. Karen stepped closer, reaching up to unbutton the top two buttons of his dress shirt. As she did, she noticed how his broad chest and strong shoulders seemed to relax with the simple act.

— You can read the rest on AO3.