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minminbunny · 2 months ago

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Stalker X Stalker AU - Dom! Lee Minho/Sub Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

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"Good morning, gorgeous," you whispered, taking a few silent photos from the roof into Minho's room. His sleeping body looked so precious with Dori snuggled against his face. You shuddered an exhale, licking your lips as you pulled away. Minho chuckled, watching you through his phone, "Kitty, you look so desperate," he cooed, zooming in. You realigned your camera, disappointed to see him sitting up, "It's too early, darling. You should sleep more," you whispered, watching Minho scroll on his phone.

Minho crossed his legs, his back facing the window, "Aww, they're sulking," he chuckled, endeared by your obvious pouting. You hummed, watching the time on your watch, "It's almost here," you whispered, keeping your camera in exchange for a burner phone. The parcel arrived at Minho's doorstep, "I didn't order anything," he murmured, bringing it into his room. You gulped, shakily calling his number.

Minho felt his phone ring and picked it up, "Hello?" he asked, making your breath hitch. You turned on your voice modifier, "Hope you like the gift, darling. It's curated for you," you said, breathing heavily. Minho bit back a smirk, "How did you find my address?" he asked, faking a worried victim. You shivered at his voice, "You shouldn't sign random forums, pretty. You wouldn't know who's getting them," you said, before hanging up.

Minho faced away from his window, chuckling into his palm. Making it seem like it was crying with his shaking shoulders. Guilt swirled within you but you knew the gift would cheer him up. Minho wiped the tears in his eyes, "Such a sweetheart," he cooed, tugging on the ribbon. The box was a stunning red with a cream coloured ribbon.

Minho lifted the lid and his eyes widened, "This isn't fair, kitty," he smiled, seeing his favorite pudding, cat treats for his children and a lovely looking letter. He shuddered, smelling a tinge of blood coming from the letter, "As much as I don't like knowing you got hurt, kitten. You really do excite me," he groaned, opening the letter. It wrote:

"To my dearest darling,

Was my gift to your satisfaction, I wanted to make you feel special. I hope I didn't scare you too much. The way your face lights up when you take a bite of pudding makes my heart swell. I'm always watching, gorgeous. Please dream of me.

Your admirer,"

At the bottom of the letter lies a kiss mark, Minho gulped, tracing the perverted stain, "Fuck, your lips look pretty," he whispered, checking his phone if you were still on the roof. After seeing the empty rooftop, he kissed the mark and held the letter close to his chest, "Definitely one for my collection," he chuckled, opening a secret door being his clothes, a room filled with pictures and items you've used before. "I wanted to extend our little game but after today. I don't think I can hold back," he chuckled, messaging his friend to set him up on a blind date.

You huffed, getting dressed for a date you don't want, "Lix, I told you. I'm not interested in dating right now," you sulked, letting him comb your hair. Felix chuckled, "It's just one. Plus, Jisung said it was their treat. So, you get a free meal and have a good time," he said, patting your shoulders. You frowned, "I guess," you murmured, looking into the mirror. Felix really dolled you up, your lips plump and glossy.

Your eyebags covered nicely. It was a total one-eighty from your usual attire. Felix nuzzled his cheek against yours, "Ready?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You gulped, "Ready as I'll ever be," you said, grabbing the necessaries. Minho loosened his tie, "It's time," he whispered, waiting for you at the table. He laced your glass with sleeping powder, hoping this date would go smoothly. You exhaled, pushing open the door.

You faked a smile and looked for the table number. 'No way,' you thought, seeing your darling, sitting where your date was suppose to be. Excitement flooded your senses, 'Is this a dream?' you thought, making your way to the table. You tapped the table, "Are you Jisung's friend?" you asked, trying to be calm as possible. Minho smiled, nodded his head, "That's me. My name's Minho," he introduced, reaching out his hand.

You wanted nothing more than to screenshot this moment like an otome game, "Nice to meet you, Minho," you said, taking his hand. Minho crossed his legs, hiding his growing bulge, 'My name just glides off their tongue. I can't wait to hear them cry it,' he thought, gesturing you to sit down. You took a sip of water, finding the taste to be odd but you didn't want to ruin the mood, "Have you ordered?" you asked, wondering why the table didn't have any menu.

Minho nodded, "I have, it's allergen free. I didn't want to you wait long for dinner," he said, pouring you more water. You beamed, "Thank you for your consideration," you said, sipping more of the water. Minho allowed his mind to spin, your pretty smile, your stunning figure, the way you dressed up for the occasion. A brief thought of jealousy surged through his thoughts, 'They dressed up not knowing it was me. Does that mean that anyone would've since my kitten like this?' he thought, gripping his knife.

You anxiously glanced peeks at him, his pronounced jawline, his piercing eyes, the veins on his arms. 'Fuck,' you thought, trying to keep your eyes from rolling back at the thought of his fingers pounding your hole apart. The waitress placed your dishes on the table, "Enjoy," she said, walking away. You jolted from your dazed, smiling at Minho, "Dig in," you beamed, eating your dinner.

Minho did the same, watching your movements get more sluggish from the powder. 'Don't worry, kitty. I'll take great care of you,' he thought, enjoying the night.

You groaned, waking up in an oddly familiar room. One you've only seen through your digital camera. One you've come to love over the years. You tried to sit up, only to feel your wrists tug against the bed frame. Minho chuckled, sitting by the window the whole time, "Slept well, kitten?" he asked, moving towards you. He stroked your hair, gently grazed your arms and thighs for any weapons you kept hidden.

You gulped, pressing your legs together, trying to hide your dagger between your thighs. Minho clicked his tongue, "Now, now. Good kittens don't hide dangerous things," he cooed, brushing his hands between your inner thighs. His smirk grew, feeling a leather holster. He unclasp the holster and placed it aside, "There we go, all helpless for me," Minho chuckled, brushing your hair.

You couldn't help but feel aroused, every sense in your body melting into his dominating presence. Minho hummed, "For a perverted little kit, you sure are obedient aren't you? Did you like watching me, sweetheart. Do you touch yourself while stalking me?" he asked, holding your neck. You moaned from the pressure, you eyes hazy with pleasure, "I do. I'm sorry, Minho. I'm sorry," you whimpered, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Minho cooed, tightening his grip, "You're not sorry at all, kitten. I love hearing your unbashful moans when you ride your pretty little dildo," he chuckled, loving the confusion on your face. "What?" you whispered, staring up at him. Minho traced your bottom lip, "You should really close your windows, kitten. It was so easy to hook up a camera in your room," he said, booping your nose. You moaned at the realisation, "You know everything?" you asked, desperation lacing your tongue. Minho kissed your forehead, "Everything, kitty. You're not the only one who's been watching," he chuckled, stroking your cheek.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Hhgh, hah, hah," you moaned, riding his cock at a relentless pace. Minho chuckled, spanking your plush ass, "Clench for me, kitten," he growled, thrusting his hips upwards in tandem with your bounce. You did as told, your ribbed walls contracting around his girthy veiny hot cock, "Hah! Good, so good," you whined, burying your face into his chest.

Minho groaned, his fat cockhead kissing your tiny crevix with each thrust, "How many times have you imagined this, kitty? Tell me," he growled, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You hiccuped, gasping and moaning into his chest, "Every other day. Needed you, needed you so bad," you sobbed, licking his puffy nipple.

Minho groaned into your hair, his face buried in the scent of your shampoo, "Yeah? Needed my Fat. Throbbing. Cock. dragging within your swollen little cunt, huh? I watched you play with that girthy dildo the other day. Tell me which is better, kitty. My cock or that toy?" He rambled into your ear, his tongue licking your earlobe with a lewd squelch.

You whimpered, shuddering within his hold, "Your cock. Yours Minho," you cried, tears dripping onto his chest. Minho grunted, pumping his thick shaft up your cunt, his hand reaching down to rub your puffy clit, "Say my name. Say it," he growled, picking up the pace. You arched your back, clawing his chest in sheer pleasure, "Minho! Min, Min, Hhgh," you whimpered, your thighs sore and aching.

Minho groaned, feeling his cockhead ease beneath your cervix, "Cum for me, sweetheart. Let me feel your obsession," he hissed, feeling you clench hard around his shaft. Broken moans escaped your lips, drool got mixed with your tears and snot. "Hah, hhgh, cumming!" You gasped, creaming around his throbbing cock. Minho groaned, his head pounding from your tight searing cunt.

"Fuck, fuck, hah," you moaned, his semen coating your inner walls white. You panted, catching your breath from the raw intensity. Minho kissed your forehead, "You can't escape me now, sweetheart," he whispered, licking your jaw. You clenched around his sensitive cock, "Neither can you, darling," you beamed, staring into his equally possessive gaze.

AMAB

Minho groaned, his fat cockhead kissing your tiny prostate with each thrust, "How many times have you imagined this, kitty? Tell me," he growled, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You hiccuped, gasping and moaning into his chest, "Every other day. Needed you, needed you so bad," you sobbed, licking his puffy nipple.

Minho groaned into your hair, his face buried in the scent of your shampoo, "Yeah? Needed my Fat. Throbbing. Cock. dragging within your swollen little hole, huh? I watched you play with that girthy dildo the other day. Tell me which is better, kitty. My cock or that toy?" He rambled into your ear, his tongue licking your earlobe with a lewd squelch.

You whimpered, shuddering within his hold, "Your cock. Yours Minho," you cried, tears dripping onto his chest. Minho grunted, pumping his thick shaft up your hole, his hand reaching down to rub your puffy cockhead, "Say my name. Say it," he growled, picking up the pace. You arched your back, clawing his chest in sheer pleasure, "Minho! Min, Min, Hhgh," you whimpered, your thighs sore and aching.

Minho groaned, feeling his cockhead ease against your prostate, "Cum for me, sweetheart. Let me feel your obsession," he hissed, feeling you clench hard around his shaft. Broken moans escaped your lips, drool got mixed with your tears and snot. "Hah, hhgh, cumming!" You gasped, creaming between your torsos’. Minho groaned, his head pounding from your tight searing hole. "Fuck, fuck, hah," you moaned, his semen coating your inner walls white. You panted, catching your breath from the raw intensity. Minho kissed your forehead, "You can't escape me now, sweetheart," he whispered, licking your jaw. You clenched around his sensitive cock, "Neither can you, darling," you beamed, staring into his equally possessive gaze.

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uwurakax · 5 months ago

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˖ ˳·˖ 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏, 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐈'𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄! ᥫ᭡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 finding an obscure otome game on the internet wasn't on your 2024 bingo card, but with only the cover art and no blurb, you decided to give it a shot. it looked promising enough at the start, and nothing could go wrong, right? ✩

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 various jojo's characters x f!reader

𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 otome || university/college!au || isekai || alt!universe ||

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 cursing (duh) || me thinking im funny asf || dio

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.8k

masterlist || next

-> 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You liked to think that you were an otome game expert. Even if it sounded… strange to the everyday person, it was your niche and who didn't have an out there hobby anyway? Supply and demand, right?

So you’d pride yourself on your extensive, and completely useless, knowledge regarding fictional pixel romance.

That was how you found yourself here, at two in the morning researching a really obscure listing of a dating game that you had never heard of before. There was no description, release date or year, and no mention of a publisher found anywhere.

A Bizarre Dating Adventure.

That was all you had to work with, the title of this so called game. There wasn't even an item picture uploaded. Spending a whopping thirty minutes gave way to absolutely nothing and you weren't going to lie, you were pretty miffed about it. A piece of so-called lost media just happened to be put on sale on a totally legitimate looking website at the grand old price of.. wait, $10?

Now you were intrigued. An otome game for that price? There was no way this was authentic when games of this nature cost upwards of $50 to $80.

With a few more clicks on your laptop, you came to find out there was free shipping included as well.

That was surely safe, you thought to yourself in your sleep deprived mind.

You faltered for a moment before closing the tab, shutting off your device and promptly collapsing onto your bed for the sleep your body craved hours ago.

Damn, you’ll feel that tomorrow.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The following days were mundane at best, your mind drifting to the odd listing of the game. The circumstances alluded you, and during your free time, you found yourself naturally going back to it. Exploring any and every corner you could, even going on the occasional forum. You didn't get much information however, and it seemed the more you looked, the more elusive it seemed.

How was it that no one else seemed to know of this game? Surely that wasn't possible.

It became more and more tempting to just shot the odds and buy it outright and trying it yourself, but you were still apprehensive.

The website didn't do any favours for itself, looking like it hadn't been updated since 2009, and there didn't seem to be any reviews on the authentication of the site either.

You groaned, sinking back into your chair and staring at your ceiling. Closing your eyes, you cautiously rubbed at them, deep in thought as the listing displayed at attention on your screen.

With a deep inhale you leaned forward again, focused as your hand hovered over the trackpad. The inner debate followed; curiosity killed the cat…

but satisfaction brought it back.

Super sketchy website, but if you played it smart, you wouldn't need to give out too much of your personal information. Plus it was dirt cheap for what it claimed it was.

‘Fuck it’, with a click and a few taps of your keyboard filling the otherwise silent bedroom, you received a congratulatory email and in red capital letters were the words ‘SOLD’ on the now ended post.

And so, you were now the future owner of the enigmatic video game, and if you so happened to be scammed… rest in peace that ten bucks.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were honestly pleasantly, and weirdly, surprised at how quickly your package arrived. Didn't you just order this thing yesterday? The no bigger than A4 sized parcel sat at your doorstep in a white bubble mailer, perched upright. The keys jingled in your hand as you bent down to pick it up, purse falling forward slightly in an uncomfortable manner. Your mood was already soured from the days events, and any little inconvenience had grated you. You were about to roughly shove your bag back and open your door when you realised there was no label stuck to your package. You flipped it over, only to find the same blank space.

That's definitely not worrying at all.

You jammed the key inside your door and forced your way inside with an all too loud slam. You knew you shouldn't have trusted that damn website. Now some axe murdering lunatic knows where you live! You could feel the nerves wash over you, and your heart began to palpitate. Twisting the deadbolt lock on your door gave you some sense of security, but it did little to appease you.

Tossing your keys and bag on your coffee table, you sat into your much too old and worn out lounge as you ripped the parcel open.

Discarding the plastic wrapping, you’d clean it up later, you found that inside was a small case with what you suspected was the game. There was nothing of note on the back, no text, rating, or any other information found. Turning it over, you saw the images of various male characters decorating the cover.

These must be the leads.

You glanced over each of the men as your fingers traced their features.

Four blondes, one brunette, one with dark blue hair, another with dark purple, one with a green undercut, a redhead and at the center was a brooding character with black hair and a tipped down cap.

What an interesting cast.

You couldn't help but wonder what made the creator go for ten different routes. It wasn't like that was unheard of, but it was quite a larger cast of romantic interests. In the midst of your thoughts, you felt a chill.

Like you were being watched.

Walking over to your kitchen window you looked outside, hand still holding onto the keep case. You stayed there for a few seconds, looking at the now setting sun against the trees. The orange glow offers little warmth within your small apartment. You gaze back down at the cover art, focusing on the dark, capped character. You didn't know why, but there was something unsettling about them. The longer you looked, the more the feeling began to fester. Gently facing it down on the marble counter, you headed into your bedroom to shower and change; hopeful that a new set of clothes and washing the day's grime away would lighten your mood.

Spoiler alert, it didn't.

Clad in only a towel, you went back into the kitchen to get a drink, throat parched and getting dry. You drank the cool beverage as your eyes began to wander back to the faced down disc. You still felt unexplainably wary, but it didn't feel so bad in that moment.

Gosh, you were such an idiot, who gets freaked over plastic?

You took the few steps towards it and turned it back over again. Tapping your fingers against the countertop in thought you wondered if you should actually play the game. It's highly possible it was just some kind if virus ready to wipe your entire harddrive, but your curiosity was getting the better of you.

You really needed to see what this was, consequences be damned!

Deciding that you’ll use your old high school laptop, you headed back to the bedroom to change into comfortable clothing. You found a pair of old white, cotton shorts and your well loved gray t-shirt that was much too big for you, left behind by a long forgotten ex. You couldn't even remember his name, or maybe you didn't want to remember. He was an ex for a reason, but the shirt sure was comfortable and his loss for leaving it with you. The only scent lingering on it was your own, so by definition and for all intents and purposes, it was yours.

Placing the game on your desk, you went rummaging around your room for the laptop.

Searching high and low; under your bed and in the wardrobes, resulted in nothing. You spend a good twenty minutes before checking the drawers of your desk and finding it hidden under stacks of scrap bits of paper in the bottom drawer. How cliché, and of course it was there.

Agitated, you moved your current laptop away and plugged in the old tried and true. It got you through high school, so hopefully it’ll make it through this.

Though you had hoped inside it wasn't a dud, as you began to feel sentimental about the outdated electronic.

If it did, you'd think about setting aside the money to have it fixed, even if it wasn't worth it - and it most definitely wouldn't be worth it.

You waited a couple of minutes for the thing to boot up, dusting off the slight dirt that accumulated from its lack of use. The age of the laptop was clear as you heard the fan blare to life.

Would it even be able to run the thing? There's no way you'd risk your actual computer on this…

Once deemed ready enough, you pressed down on the disc drive a couple of times, using much more than necessary force on the last push when the reader wouldn't open.

You waited impatiently as it closed with a quiet click, tracing your finger over the trackpad as the cursor moved violently across the screen.

You kept waiting… and waiting… and waiting… until….

Black.

The screen had shut off, and no amount of pressing the power button, force restarting the laptop or even hitting it did anything.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” the disbelief and anger present in your tone as you plugged the charger cable in and out of the port.

You weren't entirely surprised it was a scam, a virus now killing your laptop, but that didn't mean you weren't any less pissed.

Yeah you were lucky it was an old laptop, anything on it long since gone when the thing was reset before you graduated, but still…

What a waste of a laptop and the ten dollars spent on a useless thing. On the off chance that the laptop's hardware was too old to run it, you couldn't even get the disc back unless you wanted to pry the drive reader open and damage it further.

With a huff you slammed the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and laying down in your bed. You’d figure out what to do when you had time, but you were too upset to deal with your broken device now.

At least you had the sense to use an old laptop with no data. Gotta take those silver linings.

To lift your spirits, you ordered some takeaway, eagerly awaiting to stuff your face full of the greasy food. After the later half of the day, you felt like you deserved it, and the knock on your door couldn't come soon enough.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Switching off your television, you reached beside you and tapped on your phone screen to check the time.

10:34pm.

You debated whether you did want to sleep now, but your body decided to answer for you as you let out a loud yawn.

Your lounge was pretty comfortable right now, but after previous experiences, you'd definitely be feeling it in the morning.

The longer you stayed, the more difficult it would be to leave so you quickly got up, threw away the rubbish from your order and went on to do your nightly routine.

After the final step of brushing your teeth, you went to bed, flicking off the bedroom light before you looked towards your desk. Your laptop illuminating a glow along the edge.

Well that's suspicious… that's weird…

You shook your head off the image and voice of Cardi B and slowly sat down at your desk. Tentatively reaching out and opening the laptop you were met with a title screen.

A Bizarre Dating Adventure.

A deep blue background with the words in a hot pink gradient that faded to white. Deep violet coloured roses garnished the sides as different hues of purple petals fell from the top of your screen.

A Bizarre Dating Adventure, that was the name of the game from the listing, wasn't it?

Absentmindedly, your middle finger moved across the trackpad, white sparkles glittering off the cursor with every motion.

Surely a few minutes wouldn't hurt right? Just to get a feel and understanding of the game.

Small, white text slowly flashed underneath the title text reading ‘PRESS SPACE TO START.’

“Here goes nothing.” you murmured, as the screen faded to black, shrouding your entire room in darkness as well.

After a few seconds of nothing, you became apprehensive. You silently prayed that it didn't conk out on you again. There was no way you’d be teased like this.

It felt like a minute before the black screen started to light up again imperceptibly, a slight purple tinge colouring against the blackness. More white text appeared.

>> ‘HELLO’

You awaited the continuation, but nothing else had occurred, the bold letters staring at you. You clicked all over the screen and tapped enter, but there was still nothing. On a whim, you ran your hand over your keyboard to see it typed into the screen, right underneath the greeting.

How peculiar.

You held backspace to remove what was a mess of letters and numbers before typing back a ‘HI’ and hitting enter.

>> ‘ARE YOU THE NEW STUDENT?’

New student? Was this game set in a school?

> NEW STUDENT?

>> ‘AT SWF UNIVERSITY’

At least it wasn't in high school, thank goodness. You’d be damned to face another high school otome game. Figuring this was how the game went, but deciding to see what would happen you typed,

> NO

You tried to hit enter, but nothing happened. I guess it wouldn't accept that answer. You deleted the text before following what you assumed to be the correct response,

> YES

>> WELL, AREN’T YOU A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES

The text response was different now, a yellow instead of the earlier white. You felt a shiver run up you, looking behind at your empty room. You sensed that something was wrong, yet you didn't know why.

>> WHAT’S WRONG? SCARED?

Okay this wasn't funny, and this disc was obviously some kind of troll or some deep web, tracking crap. At minimum it was designed to scare you and at most… well you didn't want to think about that.

> A LITTLE

You don't know why you decided to be somewhat honest, but something was telling you that it would be better than lying. Not like it mattered much.

>> HMM, YOU SHOULD BE

You kept rereading the text before the screen flashed with your name, repeating over and over and over again.

Fuck that!

You unplugged the charger, covering your room, once again in darkness. Your breathing became laboured, as your heart beat thundered furiously in your chest, threatening to explode. That most definitely was some type of tracking, data hacking bullshit! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

What were you supposed to do now?! Call the police? Move? You were only kind of kidding about being sent the disc by an axe murderer, but it was now a very real possibility.

You tried in vain to calm down, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. This was so stupid! So completely, utterly and devastatingly s, t, u, p, i, d! You closed the lid and shoved it back into the drawer. It gave you some semblance of safety. Tomorrow you’d go far away and toss it in a random dumpster. To hell with sentimentality, that laptop was now dead to you.

You wished it would've worked earlier, at least then you would've been able to dispose of it. There's no way you were leaving your unit now at this hour.

Maybe you shouldn't throw it away and instead give it to the proper authorities? But if it was just some troll, you'd either be laughed at out of the station, or berated for wasting their time with nonsense.

You triple checked your deadbolt and closing every curtain, also ensuring that every window was sealed shut and locked.

Retreating back to your room you hid under the covers, the fluffy security net doing little to curb the anxiety that was manifesting inside.

You were surprised to feel yourself growing drowsier, the cute cat compilation video that you put on was only 6 minutes in.

You fell asleep shortly after that, your phone showing a ginger cat jumping off a shed roof and face planting into the concrete.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up with a start, sitting up as you gasped for breath. You could feel the slight sweat covering your body, a stuffiness surrounding you as you attempted to slow down your breathing. You looked around the room, a new panic forming as you saw the furniture and belongings of someone who was definitely not you.

Your room didn't look like this! Neither was that desk, or that chair! These sheets weren't yours either.

You closed your eyes as your breathing picked up again, thinking of what to do next before your phone went off with a ding.

Reaching down, you unlocked your phone screen as the words ‘A BIZARRE DATING GAME’ faded into view.

Uhm…

WHAT THE FU-

#˚₊♡ series > help i've been isekai'd into an otome game ◞#jjba x y/n #jjba x you #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #jonathan joestar x reader #dio x you #dio x reader #joseph joestar x reader #caesar zeppeli x reader #jotaro x y/n #jotaro x reader #josuke x reader #kakyoin x reader #rohan x reader #kira yoshikage x reader #giorno x reader #omg im like the funniest ever wtf i even surprise myself sometimes its a talent #actually not but i like to think i am pls 🥺

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octuscle · 7 months ago

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Cursed Ken, part 7: The Greaser

Daniel's whole body was shaking. He had leafed through all the catalogs. He had been on various forums. This Ken figure didn't even exist. And yet it was offered here on ebay. It could be a prototype that had never been produced. Or a small series that had never gone on sale officially. But the doll was there. Of course, it could also be something else. A product from another company. A fake would not be out of the question. But there was currently no bidder. The auction ran for another eight minutes. The seller wanted a paltry 10 dollars. The risk was minimal. And the chance? Prototypes of such dolls had already been sold for thousands of dollars. Daniel was a cautious, no, a fearful person. A person who enjoyed collecting dolls. To put it mildly, Daniel was overweight, didn't leave the house and lived on welfare. But he had an impressive collection of Ken figures. And now he was bidding 20 dollars on this doll. Ping! He was the highest bidder. Six minutes to go. Three more. 50 seconds. No more bidders! 3, 2, 1. Mine! He had the doll. Without a counterbid. For 10 dollars. He couldn't wait. He paid immediately via PayPal. And waited…

Daniel had to wait two weeks. Two bloody long weeks. And then he held the parcel in his trembling hands. He was wearing gloves. The doll was too perfect to be a mass-produced product. The hair wasn't plastic, it had actually been waxed into an oily quiff. The jacket was made of leather, the jeans of real fabric. The doll even smelled real. Like leather and pomade. Daniel breathed heavily. With excitement. And from exertion. He had almost run up the stairs to his collection. He draped the latest doll in a place of honor. Shit, he'd left his cell phone downstairs. Panting, he went downstairs. He had to capture this moment in a photo. Downstairs, he searched for his cell phone. He had left it somewhere… "Mamma, dov'è il mio cellulare?" he called out. No answer. Where was his mamma? There was a note in the kitchen. That he should remember to buy tomatoes at the market before he came to the restaurant. What time was it? 10:30. Shit, he had to hurry. The first guests were due in an hour. And if the pasta sauce wasn't ready by then because there were no fresh tomatoes, he'd be in big trouble with his mamma and his nonna.

Danilo was the typical Italian-American in his early 20s. Hot and testosterone-driven. But a bit on the simple side. He had forgotten something upstairs. He wanted to do something upstairs and for that he needed something from downstairs. And now? He ran back to his room. Logically, he had forgotten his comb and his leather jacket. He stood in front of the mirror and smoothed his hair. The pomade was shiny. Yes, he looked pretty retro. But that was part of the family home. It was the place to go for fans of good Neapolitan cuisine. And the 50s. Well, and a lot of guests came for Danilo's sake.

"Excuse me, may I take a photo of you?" Danilo heard this an average of 1.8 times as he walked from his parents' house, where he still lived, to his parents' restaurant, where he worked. Danilo was good at striking a pose. He was a star in Little Italy. And on Instagram. And even if his mamma and his nonna didn't know it, also on Grindr.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #greaser #leather tf #age reduction #kenergy #ken tf #ai image

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manonamora-if · 1 year ago

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New Pinned post. Old Navigation Post.

Hi, I'm Manon. And I create Interactive Fiction for fun. Sometimes in French, sometimes in English, and in both when I can. Currently a dozen playable games in various state and free templates and guides.

I post weekly dev logs about my project progress. I also write reviews of IF games (@manonamora-if-reviews).

I also made a whole resource list for Twine (guide, macro, templates).

Ask me stuff about stuff :P

If I'm not here, I'm not here.

Website: on neocities (not up-to-date)

itch.io: manonamora

Discord: I'm on a bunch of different IF-related servers, if you see a manonamora with this icon, it's probably me. 🤫

Sometimes I'm active IntFiction forum or the @neointeractives Discord.

My IF games are playable on itch.io, listed on the IFDB (for reviews), with some backed up in the IFArchive. I sometimes post code on GitHub.

Other Tumblrs: @crimsonroseandwhitelily (sideblog IF), @neointeractives, @neo-twiny-jam, @seedcomp-if

Since 2021, I've released a dozen of projects or WIPs, most of those being Interactive Fiction pieces. While the majority have been made with Twine (SugarCube), I've been testing other formats and programs.

I've also created templates and coding guides for SugarCube, as well as prompts. Both templates and prompts are free to use under the CC-BY license.

All projects and relevant links are listed under the cut.

In alphabetical order...

-> Crimson Rose & White Lily [In Progress] A multi-chapter interactive court intrigue story, set in a fantasy world inspired by the Victorian era and 18th century French Court, in which you navigate a world you have no recollection of. Tumblr | Game Post | Play CRWL | Rate CRWL | Tag

-> DOL-OS [Remastered] A sci-fi puzzle interactive game, in which you investigate inside an old computer machine. Game Post | Play DOL-OS | Rreview DOL-OS | Tag

-> Exquisite Cadaver [Released/Re-writes] A surrealist interactive word game based on the 'cadavre exquis' game. Game Post | Play EC | Rreview EC | Tag

-> Goncharov Escapes! [Remastered] A short quick-timed-event interactive game based on the Goncharov meme. Game Post | Play GE! | Review GE! | Tag

-> La Petite Mort [Remastered] A short puzzle interactive game, where you help Suzette, a 8-year-old get ready to meet her grandmother Game Post | Play LPM | Review LPM | Tag

-> Meeting the Parents [Remastered] An interactive story about going through the hoops of meeting your partner's parents for the first time. Game Post | Play MtP | Rate MtP | Tag

-> P-Rix - Space Trucker [In Progress] A Sci-Fi slice-of-life interactive game, where you play as P-Rix, a space trucker, delivering a strange parcel to a Mr. E. Game Post | Play P-ST | Review P-ST | Tag

-> SPS Iron Hammer [Released] A short sci-fi/mystery interactive story, set aboard the SPS Iron Hammer, where nothing is as it seems. Will you continue your content life or delve into the conspiracy? Tumblr | Game Post | Play SPS IH | RATE SPS IH | Tag

-> The Rye in the Dark City [In Progress] A noir-detective interactive story with the twist. A strange case lands on Detective Rye's desk. Will you take it and save the dame? Game Post | Play TRDC | Review TRCD | Tag

-> The Roads Not Taken [Released] A short parser-like game about choices. Play a being about to go through The Ritual, where you will have to make a choice, shaping the rest of your life. Will you take the correct one? Game Post | Play TNRT | Review TNRT | Tag

-> The Thick Table Tavern [Released] A chill bartender simulator set in a fantasy setting. Mix drinks, talk to trope-y patrons, get coins and fulfil your dreams! Game Post (temporary) | Play TTTT | RATE TTTT | Tag

-> The Trials and Tribulations of Edward Harcourt [In Progress] It all started with a letter... A Lovecraftian Interactive novel with a strange mystery and a plea for help from a former acquaintance. Game Post | Play TTATEH | RATE TTATEH | Tag

Other Smaller Projects:

À la Campagne [English, Hypertext]

Clarence Street, 14 [English + French, Hypertext]

Collision [English + French, Hypertext]

Entre-d’œufs coquilles [French, temp English, Parser-Choice Hybrid]

In the Blink of an Eye [English + French, Hypertext]

Intersigne [English + French, Hypertext]

Le Diner [English, Hypertext]

Le Jeu de la Dévotion [French, Hypertext]

I also published free assets and guide...

-> 100% Good Twine Sugarcube Templates I design UI for fun and release them as template when I feel like it. Currently Available: Simple Book (Landscape), One Page (Portrait), Space/Tech (Portrait), VN-lite RPG (Portrait) Also available: Ready-to-Use Tweego Folder, Setting Template. GET YOUR TEMPLATE | RATE TEMPLATE | Tag (x)

-> The ChoiceScript to SugarCube Guide Created for ChoiceScript creators wanting to make the transition to SugarCube (Twine), the Guide contains all code equivalence between the documentation, and potential useful add-ons. GET YOUR GUIDE | RATE GUIDE

-> 100% Good Twine SugarCube Guide Created as an alternative to the the SugarCube (Twine) documentation. The guide is organised by code proficiency. GET YOUR GUIDE | RATE GUIDE

-> Promps

Chonky Chicken (French + English)

Mission: Anti-Romance (English)

SeedComp! Meta Prompts (English)

The last book you'll ever write (English)

The last seed at the end of time (English)

The templates are prompts are under the CC-BY license (free use with crediting).

#manonamora #manonamora-if #navigation post #interactive fiction #interactive games #games #indie dev #promo post #interactive story #choice game #twine game #interactive novel #cyoa #assets #guides #links #projects #update #ask me anything

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

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What’s the difference between an author criticizing someone for saying bad stuff about their book and a musician or actor doing the same with their music or movies aka the ‘haters can’t get to me’ attitude that we see a lot? i’ve seen so many ‘authors shouldn’t invade reviewer spaces’ but never that reviewers should just say they don’t like something and move on instead of hating. What differentiates these two demographics when both, at their core, are types of art. am i missing something? just to be clear this question is more out of curiosity than hostility.

Here's the difference:

You're confusing criticism with hate. No one is saying that "hate" is acceptable, but a negative review isn't hate...

If I say, "Chad McChaddington is such a two-bit no-talent hack whose face looks like a truck drove through a pile of horse shit..." that's hate. That is a cruel, unfounded personal attack based on negative emotion and nothing else. It isn't there to provide a well thought out opinion for the benefit of other consumers.

But, if I say, "I found Chad McChaddington's latest album to be the least creative of all three. The tracks all had the same early 90s synthy b-side aesthetic, yet still somehow managed to lack cohesion. Furthermore, his song about his ex-girlfriend was misogynistic and concerning. It was a very disappointing turn for this once talented singer-songwriter." That's a REVIEW, not a personal attack. There's no insult, no name-calling, nothing emotional or unqualified. Just backed up opinions on why I didn't like the album.

I guarantee you've never seen Billie Eilish lash out in the comments of a Rolling Stone article that says her latest album wasn't her best. You've probably never seen Paul Rudd or Zendaya tweet that they didn't appreciate Leonard Maltin's negative take on their latest role, or the scathing review of their latest movie in the New York Times. If they did, it would be just as inappropriate as when authors do it.

Authors are not entitled to glowing reviews.

Full stop.

All writers receive criticism and bad reviews. Even the best, most popular, most critically-acclaimed writers of all time. It's a fact of life, part and parcel with being a writer. Any writer who can't handle criticism and negative reviews should consider whether putting their work into the public forum is a good for their well-being.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & FEEDBACK COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

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vivantquantique · 13 days ago

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tsaagan · 8 months ago

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Okay so I bought a GR Toys Spinosaurus back in 2020 [this one, but the green version] fron an online store I had never used before but after Googling it it seemed trustworthy - I didn't find any reviews or forum posts that said it's a scam site. Aaaaaand then after waiting for a really long time the Spinosaurus never arrived. Ugh, I tried to be careful and still got scammed, I thought. Ended up buying that figure from a different online store I had used a couple of times before. So at least I was able to get that Spino figure, even though I had to pay for it twice and got only one figure.

But guess what happened today! A parcel from that original store I used was delivered to me and there was the new release of the green GR Toys Spinosaurus! Honestly I'm not even mad I had to wait so long since the original green Spino and new green Spino are slightly different in colouration so they will look very nice together in photos - if they were identical it would look a bit weird. And I didn't even think about buying the new release because it's just a repaint of a figure I already own but now I'm happy it was sent to me.

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invisibleicewands · 9 months ago

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Michael Sheen is electrifying in NHS origin story Nye — theatre review

It will be, says Michael Sheen’s Nye Bevan, eyes blazing, as he steps to the front of the National Theatre’s huge Olivier stage, “the most civilised step this country has ever taken”. He’s talking about the National Health Service, about the great, humanitarian principle of a health service free at the point of delivery, about an institution that remains cherished above all others by the British people. And in Tim Price’s epic new play about the Welsh Labour politician Aneurin “Nye” Bevan, he’s speaking across the decades to the present day, when the beleaguered NHS lies on its own sickbed, delivering an account of how and why the health service was born and the radical impulse behind it. A mighty, moving and sometimes messy piece of theatre, it’s really, at heart, a state-of-the-nation play. And like Dear England and Standing at the Sky’s Edge before it, Nye (a co-production with the Wales Millennium Centre) seizes this venue’s great potential as a national public forum to frame critical questions about who we are and who we want to be.

It’s also a drama that picks up Bevan’s audacity and runs with it, shrugging off sober realism for a swirling fantasia. Here Bevan, who as secretary of state for health spearheaded the creation of the NHS in 1948, lies dying in one of his own hospitals, his life swimming before him as he drifts in morphine-inflected dreams. He actually died at home, but that poetic licence is part and parcel of this show’s ethos, which bundles up the political fight to launch the NHS with a private reckoning with conscience. So, as Bevan’s wife, MP Jennie Lee, and life-long friend Archie Lush (Roger Evans) sit by his sickbed, we dart with his troubled mind around key moments that have brought him to this point: a classroom rebellion against a teacher caning the young Nye for stammering; an epiphany in a public library when he realises how a wider vocabulary can help him; buccaneering moments as a union rep for miners; parliamentary showdowns; a key wartime exchange with Churchill that makes the firebrand young politician see the point of political compromise. At the centre of it all is his sense of guilt and impotence at his father’s terrible death from pneumoconiosis, which Price sees as a key psychological factor in his determination to establish healthcare accessible to all.

Director Rufus Norris stages all this with wit and drive, using Vicki Mortimer’s canny set design of sliding hospital curtains to send scenes tumbling over one another as they do in dreams. At one point the screens stack up in rows, like benches in the House of Commons; at another, several hospital beds — and their startled occupants — are tipped on their sides to form the tables for a committee meeting. Like a Greek chorus, an ever-busy cast plays patients, politicians, miners, doctors — and, in one memorably moving scene, a crowd of desperate ordinary people importuning Bevan on behalf of their sick relatives. There are casualties to this approach. There’s a tendency to reach for stereotypes and to push political points that don’t need pushing. There’s also so much going on that we don’t get enough of an up-close study of Bevan the man, or of the critical period when the postwar Labour party heaved the welfare state into being. The play is often at its best when it focuses on personal exchanges, particularly between Nye and Jennie — a remarkable politician in her own right, played here with fiery wit by Sharon Small.

But this is, unashamedly, a play about principle, passion and compassion, driven by a fantastic ensemble and an electrifying performance from Sheen. Even in his pink pyjamas, his Bevan has a stature that throws down a gauntlet to today’s politicians across the river Thames.

#Michael Sheen #Nye #National Theatre #Aneurin Bevan #review #theatre #The Financial Times

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rscroogedraws · 6 months ago

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Our Beloved Docktor Frogg Part I

Note: The last time I tried to write a L.O.S.E. fanfic was 2013. So, I'm pretty rusty.

In a nutshell: Docktor Frogg is starting to wonder if the grass is greener somewhere else. Maybe he'd feel more satisfied with his career and life overall if he was a mad scientist under an actual supervillain instead of Voltar the Saturday morning cartoon villain flop?

This is also me introducing my fan character Firecracker to what may, potentially, be a new series of L.O.S.E. fics after this one. I also plan on including Professor Venomous from O.K. K.O.! as a minor recurring character in this particular fic.

Without further ado:

“Oh, Docktor Frogg! You got some mail!” Red Menace chirped as he passed over a surprisingly fancy gold embossed envelope.

Frogg nodded and took the parcel. He was relieved Voltar was out doing who-knows-what since the little gremlin would insist on getting first look at the mail just because of how shiny it was. He muttered a few choice words under his breath as he carefully opened said envelope, imagining Voltar scoffing, rolling his eyes, and whining that he never got anything good.

Honestly, Frogg was expecting spam about a credit card for the ‘elite’ supervillain or glossy, unbelievable photos of equipment he’d never be able to afford (or steal) in a million years. Instead, it was a wedding invite. And as soon as he saw the name and picture attached, his heart dropped a little.

There was the beaming and lovestruck face of Professor Venomous holding hands with a shorter man that had teal, swooped hair on one side of his head and one red cybernetic eye. The mystery beau looked great in a powder blue tuxedo, his smile almost hidden behind a big matching tie and a sea of ruffles. Frogg glanced at the letterhead again: “….formally invited to the wedding of Professor Venomous and Lord Boxman.”

Frogg sniffed and closed the letter. Years ago, he found Professor Venomous on a mad scientist forum. His specialization was crafting bio-mass attachments and creating artificial life. He was Frogg’s dream lab partner; a scientist whose demented imagination matched his talent, zeal, and determination to create bigger, worse, and deadlier things. A few of Frogg’s better organic monsters over the years, the ones that lived longer than five minutes, owed their existence to Venomous’ equations and thorough notes.

When Venomous first shared pictures of what he looked like, it awoke something in Docktor Frogg. The man was as gorgeous as he was brilliant. He had a purple complexion that he carefully matched with turtlenecks in the same color family. His dark hair was glossy and combed back into a flattering wing shape. And he wore eyeliner.

Venomous had a touch of Goth aesthetic and Frogg’s heart always skipped a beat around Goth girls with tastefully put-together black outfits and make-up that made her look like the Grim Reaper’s next willing target. That applied to Goth guys too. It also better explained what Frogg previously chocked up as just “admiration” for the icon Rock Gothington.

It hit Frogg like an unpleasant satellite from the heavens above: He’d been crushing on his long-time online friend Professor Venomous. He’d held onto a slim hope, the slimmest most gossamer thread of hope, that Venomous might reach out one day, ask to be partners, and sweep him away from his dreaded day-to-day as a minion for a Saturday morning cartoon flop. Someone else beat Frogg to the goal he hadn’t realized he had.

Boxman. Frogg blew out a breath. Lord Boxman.

If Venomous had fallen for him, he probably had some blueprints or research worth raiding. At the very least, Frogg might find a devious new idea for a pet project and maybe even a new villain penpal. It’d help buffer his ennui if he had just one more person to talk to that knew what real evil was instead of continuing to insist that playing Ding Dong Ditch on their neighbor Steve was the height of villainy.

“What’d you get, Docktor Frogg?” Red Menace asked with a friendly grin.

“Junk mail.” Frogg deliberately looked away from Red’s face as he tucked the invitation into the inner pocket of his lab coat. “Just junk.”

“Why did you discretely put it away in your coat then?” Red raised an accusatory finger and eyebrow. “That’s the pocket you put important documents in.”

Suddenly the door burst open and Voltar puttered in, tapping his fingers and chuckling sinisterly. Even his antennae curled slightly backwards.

“Men! I’ve found a fantastic new way to annoy the neighborhood!” Voltar made a few showman gestures before sticking his hands behind his back.

Red leaned in curiously. For a moment, Frogg was actually grateful for Voltar’s interruption. As Voltar was pulling out his monumental find, Red shot Frogg a knowing glance and raised his brows. Of course he wasn’t just going to let Frogg off the hook.

Frogg swallowed heavily as Voltar raised a fistful of colorful kazoos.

“I’ve found a treasure trove of horribly played songs on NikNak!” Voltar carried on with a gleeful laugh. “And the fools shared their sheet music! For free! We’re going to learn how to play these songs. The worse. The better. Feel free to ad lib. And we’re going to knock on all our neighbors’ doors. And give them a kazoo concert that will make them groan in sheer agony!”

“I think you’re mistaking recorders for kazoos….” Red interjected.

“I got these from the dollar store for 25 cents. I’m not made of money, Red.”

“Wouldn’t recorders be more irritating?” Frogg said, frowning. “I’ve been to some pretty bad recorder recitals, Voltar. That’s the stuff of nightmares for some parents…”

“And grandparents!” Red added.

“Hmmm…..” Voltar idly scratched his chin and shook the kazoos mashed between his fingers. “I really want to do a bad kazoo concert today.”

With that, Voltar shoved the kazoos at Frogg and Red. Red excitedly started tooting on his while Frogg rolled his eyes and held up the pathetic plastic instrument between his claws.

As if Red’s tweeting and buzzing wasn’t bad enough by itself, Voltar joined in. In his case, he was pitifully trying to play two kazoos at once. Red sounded at least close to competent while Voltar was wheezing and blowing raspberries barely a minute later.

Is this really the rest of my life….? Frogg raised his kazoo and half-heartedly blew into it.

“Let’s gooooo!” Voltar cheered, pointing and marching back towards the door.

Frogg slumped forward and followed the peppy, jaunty strut of his comrades with significantly more somber energy. Maybe today he’d finally discover a Skullosus recruitment poster that didn’t have all the little “take a number” strips pulled off.

Instead of the neighbors, Voltar decided to drag L.O.S.E. to the park instead. Because he was hungry. And there was a specific hot dog cart there that had quality brats-not the cheap meat tubes everywhere else had-and a certain brand of spicy mustard that you just couldn’t find anywhere else in town.

While Voltar beelined for the cart, Red Menace noticed Mrs. Johnson parked on a bench and feeding pigeons. He casually strolled over with a certain grin on his face that better fit a superhero sidekick than a burly evil henchman. The elderly woman immediately perked up when she saw him. She fished out a couple pieces of the awful candy every old person ubiquitously carried on their person and offered Red the ones with the strawberry-themed wrappers. Of course, he gasped with sheer delight and popped one in his mouth.

Docktor Frogg rolled his eyes and looked down at the kazoo pathetically dangling from his claws. He raised it to his lips and started tooting a tuneless ditty. Only he could hear it. Otherwise, he was overpowered by bird chatter and laughing children.

Oh, look. Glory Guy’s superpowered spawn recently learned how to fly. The child was cackling as he flew around in a few dizzy circles, a little gray hare hanging onto his ankle for dear life. Glory Guy’s concerned cries followed a minute later.

Frogg chuckled sinisterly. Maybe in the next ten years Glory Jr. would be a delinquent on the quick path towards a supervillain that could easily rival the likes of Skullosus or greater instead of yet another boring and cookie-cutter boy scout like his old man.

“….you’re absolutely sure?” Speaking of Skullosus, the skull in a jar was sitting across a picnic table from a character Frogg hadn’t seen before. She certainly wasn’t dressed like one of his typical minions and she wasn’t Skullosus’ gender-bent galaxy-conquering girlfriend either.

“Yeah,” she said with a firm nod. “I appreciate the opportunity, but it’s just not what I’m looking for.”

The mystery woman was barely a foot taller than Voltar from Frogg’s rough mental height estimate. She had short gray hair slicked back into sharp quill-like shapes at the base of her neck and cat-like yellow irises. Colored contact lenses maybe? She was dressed in a dark double-breasted suit and silver tie matched with black and white shoes Frogg had only seen in 1940’s movies. Based on her outfit alone, Frogg guessed she was probably a franchise rep for one of the big-name suppliers Skullosus had access to as an A-list villain.

Despite himself, Frogg cast a venomous glare in Voltar’s direction. His boss was happily chomping down on his stupid bratwurst. With a snarl and a few curses, Frogg turned his attention back to Skullosus. Maybe Voltar would be extra slow today and indulge what he liked to call his “foodie” sensibilities. Yes, Voltar, the man whose usual diet consisted of a big bucket of fried fast food chicken or cheap microwave pizza, was a fount of knowledge on fine dining.

At the very least, Frogg wanted to find out who Skullosus’ mystery supplier was. It’d be another brand name to add to his ever-growing list of mad scientist’s equipment he idly daydreamed about.

“I could really use a decent mad scientist right now.” Skullosus tapped the table top. “Do you like foosball? We just had a foosball table installed in the lounge!”

Frogg’s goggles bugged while the woman in the suit rolled her eyes.

“I’m not a mad scientist. I told you I’m more of a publicist. Or spin doctor for a more accurate description. My mad science is ad hoc at best.” She made a “so-so” gesture. “And I don’t like foosball.”

“But it’s so fun to make the little men kick the ball! It’s like….” Skullosus gestured vaguely. “And then the other guy goes-” He gestured vaguely again. “So fun.”

“Have you actually played it?” She folded her arms.

“My son likes it.” Skullosus shrugged. “I also just got orange soda in the employee vending machines!”

“Hire an actual mad scientist. Call me when you need a brochure for the people on your first conquered planet or whatever.”

“Firecracker, no mad scientists-”

“ ‘No mad scientists want to work anymore!’ Yeah, yeah….” Firecracker made a rude, dismissive gesture that eerily reminded Frogg of Voltar.

“Don’t you dare take that tone with the mighty-”

“You can’t eject me out the airlock.” Firecracker grinned in a menacing fashion. “This is a no disintegrator ray zone. Plus, Glory Guy and General Sargent are here.”

He ground his teeth and narrowed his eyes, but huffed in defeat.

“We’re still on for brunch Monday, right?” Firecracker adjusted the lapels of her suit jacket.

“Of course! Galactea is dying to meet you.” Skullosus’ entire demeanor shifted from intimidating to casual in mere seconds. He cleared his throat and tapped the front of his mech suit. “It’s disappointing that we’ll no longer be business associates. Please send any promising mad scientists my way?”

Firecracker nodded as she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “Yes. Of course.”

Skullosus nodded again and stood up. Then he ambled away towards Glory Guy who had just managed to catch his ball-of-chaos rugrat.

The gears in Frogg’s head started turning. If only Glory Guy wasn’t here. If he could just find a way to get himself in front of Skullosus-

“Enjoy the show, Goggles?”

Frogg’s thoughts were interrupted by Firecracker looking directly at him with tightly folded arms and a smug smile on her face.

It was that moment Frogg also realized his goggles had extended out a bit. He had unintentionally zoomed in on Firecracker and Skullosus when he got wrapped up in his eavesdropping. Also, he’d only been standing...ten feet away from their picnic table.

“Oh….” Frogg raised the tip of his claw to his chin. “A-ahhm….”

“Skullhead has a bad habit of using his outside voice.” Her smile grew and she laughed a little, her shoulders bobbing. “So, you’re an aspiring Skullosus minion then?”

“Yes.” Frogg pushed the tips of his claws together, blushing in embarrassment. “I’d like that. Very much.”

“I’d hold off from applying right now.” She held up a warning index finger. “Skullosus thinks he can juggle wedding planning with an evil operation that’s about to expand from not-yet world destroyer to galactic conquerer. It’s a circus!”

“...g-galactic conquerer?!” Frogg was salivating a little now.

“I can see the evil little twinkle in your eye.” Firecracker snorted. “Seriously. I’ve been ejected out of his airlock two different times because of pre-wedding jitters! Wait. Wait at least a month. Then he’ll be back to ejecting minions from the airlock twice a week. Only once if he’s in an especially good mood.”

The tone of her voice and imagining himself floating about aimlessly in space made Frogg very, very aware of gravity keeping his feet attached to the earth beneath him. He looked down at the grass and swallowed thickly. “Mm-hmmm….”

“Good news is you’re a shoo-in,” Firecracker lightly clapped Frogg’s shoulder. “I got my foot in the door because Skullosus caught a whiff of mad scientist on my CV. I can only piece together mad scientist scraps with duct tape, gum, and a miracle!”

“What exactly does Skullosus need a mad scientist for?” Frogg asked around the growing lump in his throat.

Before Firecracker could answer, Voltar popped up and sprayed a mix of spit and terribly played kazoo music in her face. There was a big, stupid smile on his helmeted face and he narrowed his eyes challengingly at Frogg and Firecracker.

“Time to move out, Docktor Frogg!” he declared.

Firecracker had a tight-lipped smirk on her face as her pupils shrank and she blinked a few times. She sniped one of the kazoos Voltar still wielded between his knuckles, raised the cheap instrument to her lips, and took a deep breath. She tweeted into the kazoo, as loud and obnoxious as she could. The resulting foghorn bellow was bigger than Frogg thought the instrument was capable of. It was followed by enough wind to push Voltar’s antennae back and at least a gallon of spit.

Now it was Voltar’s turn for shrinking pupils and rapid blinking.

“What was that for?!” he cried indignantly.

“You started it.”

Voltar tweeted the kazoo again, this time waving his hand off to the side with a few conductor-esque gestures as he seemed to try and remember some tune.

“...is that supposed to be Jingle Bells?” Firecracker asked.

“Nightshade smells! Bobbin lost a pin!” Voltar sang off-key. Frogg cringed when Firecracker started playing her pilfered kazoo actually in tune with Voltar. “The Shade mobile lost a wheel and the Cuckoo got away!”

“Oh, my God. I remember when Nightshade had such a cow about that on national TV.” Firecracker snickered. Then her eyes bugged and she raised the kazoo, tapping the air with it a few times. “Can you imagine putting together a choir of these and playing it right outside his house? Bonus points if its kids in Nightshade’s official shirts and carrying his stupid new action figures.”

“Ooohhh, he’d hate that!” Frogg chimed in, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his lips for the first time in awhile.

“Do you have more of these?” Firecracker shook the kazoo again for emphasis.

“No.”A few more fell out of Voltar’s pockets as his eyes shot back and forth like pinballs.

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” Firecracker laughed as she pocketed the kazoo and extended a hand to Frogg. “I’m Firecracker, the spritely and unpredictable! Pleasure to meet you.”

“Docktor Frogg,” Frogg spun his claw once with a little showy flare before taking her extended hand. “The ah...insidious and dement-cru...malicif-ignant.”

“Um, excuse me!” Voltar glared at her. “I’m the illustrious leader of the League of Super Evil, Voltar. But I don’t really need an introduction. You’ve probably heard of me.”

He puffed out his chest and made a display out of looking at his nails.

For a moment, Frogg tensed up and braced himself for an incoming Voltar tantrum. Most people were barely aware that they existed, saw them as minor nuisances that could be deterred with a “shoo” motion and a spray bottle, or worse, asked who they were even after several events that had almost leveled Metrotown.

“Yeah!” Firecracker tapped her palm. “The balloons? You kept everybody on 4th street up all night after popping a bunch of balloons...Where did you find enough?”

Voltar made a pleased noise. “The dollar store foolishly threw them out! They were all there in an alleyway dumpster! Free for the taking.”

While Voltar was laughing as if he discovered the secret behind perpetual motion, Frogg groaned and rolled his eyes.

“That’s where we find all of our equipment,” he snarked.

“Frogg! Don’t give away our secrets.”

“You already gave it away.”

“Do you think there’s more kazoos back there?” Firecracker interrupted.

“I didn’t think to look there!” Voltar sighed. “I actually bought these.” He glared at the kazoos still stuck between his fingers.

“Recorders would be more annoying,” Firecracker said. “We should stock up on those instead.”

“I told you!” Frogg said in a sing-song with a pointed stare at Voltar.

“Wait a minute.” Voltar folded his arms haughtily. “Who said you were joining us on my genius plan?”

“Fair enough.” Firecracker mimicked his body language before leaning in and blowing a raspberry. “But I can find cheap recorders and I know at least six evil parents that would love to use this as an internship opportunity for their kids.”

“I can recruit an entire neighborhood of annoying kids!”

“Brilliant.” Firecracker smirked. “If we teamed up, we’d have that neighborhood plus six kids. It’d maximize how annoyed Nightshade would be!”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Voltar shook his head. “Our goal is to annoy my neighbors. Especially Steve.”

“Okay.” Firecracker leaned in closer. “Let’s give Steve nightmares.”

The cold, icy tone Firecracker used actually sent a slight shiver down Frogg’s spine. For a moment, Voltar looked a bit phased. His yellow pinprick irises dilated a few times and he took a step back. A moment later, Voltar regained his nerve raised a triumphant fist. “Steve will pee himself in terror!”

“Great.” Firecracker fished a business card out of her pocket and slipped it into Voltar’s hand. “Call me when you’re ready to discuss the plan! I’m always excited to team up with other villains.”

With that, she waved and walked towards the same bratwurst cart Voltar was at a few minutes ago. Frogg watched her passing form, wondering why someone that had connections with Skullosus of all villains would want anything to do with L.O.S.E. Whatever her intentions, she could help Frogg start moving ahead in the world. He’d keep a wary eye on her but until proven otherwise, she’d given him a small spark of hope. He was mildly disappointed that the evil scheme was still Voltar’s small-peanuts vision but at least it’d been upgraded to real nuisance instead of mildly irritating; like a housefly aimlessly larking about exchanged for a mosquito nipping at someone’s neck.

“Gross. Did she just ask me on a date?” Voltar held out the business card as if it was a bag of dog poop.

“As if.” Frogg rolled his eyes. “Girls give you their phone number on scraps of notebook paper or napkins with little hearts on them. Or they just put their number in your phone.”

“How would you know?” Voltar looked at him suspiciously.

“I’ve been out on a few dates!” Frogg said, a bit more defensively than he would have liked. “Anyway, business cards are common. A lot of big-time supervillains and minions have them. This would be our first major collaboration with another villain. It might gain the League more notoriety.”

“We’re known!” Now Voltar was getting defensive. “We’re a household name…”

“We might actually get on the front page of the newspaper.” Frogg mused. “Or better yet, convince a social media influencer to make a video about us…”

“It’d be nice to see my face on the front page,” Voltar muttered.

“Alright, I’ve decided! The League will team up with this Firecracker. Only temporarily!” Voltar snickered. “Your nights of blissful slumber are numbered, STEVE!”

Before Voltar started on an evil laugh, Red joined them. He waved casually and held up a kazoo. “I’m ready to toot, Voltar!”

“Change of plans, Red. We’re going back to the drawing board…”

“Can we go back to the drawing board over subs?” Red Menace held up a coupon with a giddy grin. “Mrs. Johnson had a leftover Get 3 Subs free for Gene’s Sandwich Shoppe!”

“I could eat,” Voltar agreed.

“What about Doomageddon?” Frogg asked nervously.

“Oh, I have enough leftover grocery money to get him a sandwich. Besides, Doomy has very specific tastes!”

“Yeah, I bet…” Frogg shuddered. Thankfully, a big meaty sandwich was far more appetizing than Frogg’s string beany body.

Yet another reason Frogg was excited by the prospect of potentially leaving L.O.S.E.

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