#so how about that old new mode huh?

[whatzaoverwatch]

Genji upon returning to Classic mode

[dumpywrites]

Ugh! - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: “Aren’t we done?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Pure fluff, tsundere Jungkook?, exes that are so not done with each other lol

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

Word count: 2.8k

a/n: I wrote this while picturing pouty and bratty Jungkook, so instead of simp Jungkook we ended up with somewhat of a tsundere one lol

It had been officially the first day of waking up being single again after not in seven months. Previously you had been single for a while too, so it was not like this was something new for you, it was just… odd. The wound was still fresh after all. 

Looking at the reflection in the mirror, the first thing you saw was your puffy eyes. You had been crying, bawling your eyes out to sad songs, basically putting alcohol to your freshly cut wound. Life must continue. Even if you were in the verge of losing your mind, you still had to wake up. 

It was your first (and apparently last?) big fight your now ex, Jungkook. You for one, never liked how the guy would doomscroll through tiktok and instagram for hours and hours and ignored you. Not only that, he ended up losing sleep too. Yes, you had your own fair share of consuming social media, same as everyone else, but you never let it disturb your health. Still, he never changed for the better, since the beginning you found out about it. 

So when one day you found out the guy was sent to hospital due to exhaustion, your first reaction was to be upset and pissed, instead of a more logical reaction. The fight ended up spiraling, branching into digging old unresolved frustration you had, worrying about his well being. Jungkook being a stubborn guy he was, turned full defense mode. Then the word was spoken. 

Everything had now led you to this exact moment, where you had to open your door to your ex in the morning, while looking like a complete mess. 

“Do you really need to come this early in the morning?!” You asked, annoyed. 

Jungkook was in his usual black oversized hoodie. You could see his beanie peeking through from underneath, it was in the same pitch black color. He looked like he didn’t even take a shower before showing up. Eye bags could be seen decorating his round doe eyes. 

“My PS5 is here.” He argued. 

“I can just mail it to you or something.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I wanna play the new game I just got!” He walked past you, totally ignoring your scoff. 

“You can’t just do that.” You sighed, following him from the back. 

“You’re dramatic.” He said as he unplugged the console from your TV. 

You watched as he took the controllers and the cables and collected them all in his arms. “You need a bag with that?”

“No.” 

“Alright.”

Once he was done, man stood up as he somehow managed to grab everything in his hands. He looked like he was struggling, but you knew the man too well that he would never let you know about it. Your eyes fell on a few of video game CDs left on your drawer. 

“You sure that’s everything?” 

“Yeah.” He looked at you with a frown. 

“If you say so.” You eyed the games again and shook your head. Somehow refusing to say a thing. “That’s all?”

“Uh-huh.” He said, not moving from where he stood. 

“Then?”

“Then what???” The audacity of this man to sound offended. 

“Why aren’t you leaving?!” 

“Just making sure I didn’t leave anything.” He said and finally made his way to your door. 

There was a very faint hit of his fragrance came to you as he walked right past. You hated how your heart could betray you so quickly because it got you so worked up over the smell. 

You walked him to the door with words unspoken. You swore you saw him almost bending down, like he was gonna kiss you goodbye. It was probably a muscle memory, but he managed to stop himself before doing anything. 

“Bye.” He quickly said. 

“Bye, Jungkook.” You closed the door behind you, avoiding to spend any more second in his eyes. 

The first few days after breakup were supposed to be the hardest. At least that was what you heard from your friends. So, in order to distract yourself and to avoid spending your free time crying, you invited some of your friends to join you for a short karaoke session after work. 

“Explain to me why are you inviting us and why are you paying again?” Somi asked. 

“Jungkook just dumped her.” Mingyu snickered. 

Somi gasped. “I’m so sorry to hear that, are you okay?”

“I dumped him.” You glared at your other friend, correcting him. “I need a distraction.”

“Karaoke, is your idea of distraction?” Mingyu looked at you in disbelief. “Your ex literally has a whole karaoke bar in his house—“

“Shut it.” You put your hand over the guy’s lips, cutting his sentence short. “I can just go with Somi if you don’t want to.”

“Fine, I’m sorry!” The taller guy whined and followed you and Somi to the karaoke room.

Doing karaoke was fun, but it did not do any help. Every song seemed to constantly remind you of him, and you spent the whole two hours holding and containing yourself so it would not show. 

You decided to record an Instagram story. Deep down there was this tiny bit of hope on Jungkook seeing your story, since you didn’t block him and all. Maybe if he saw, he could see how you could have fun without him just fine. 

“I think I lost my voice…” Mingyu said as all of you exited the room. 

“No one asked you to sing three Adele songs in a row.” Somi laughed. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you sing like that!” You laughed along with the girl. “Thanks for coming though, that was—.”

You were stunned upon seeing who was right in front of the entrance. Your boyf— ex, was walking back and forth, looking antsy. The extremely baggy t-shirt he wore was flowing due to the wind blowing outside, along with his hair. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, posing a dumbfounded expression. 

“That’s my line.” You folded your arms. 

“Can’t I go out with my friends?!” He rolled his eyes. 

“Jungkook, you have a karaoke room in your house.” You rolled your eyes. “Plus I don’t see anyone with you.”

“They’re not here yet.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Somi and Mingyu both eyed each other, seemingly holding their dying laughter. 

“Are you not gonna go inside?” You asked him. 

“Are you not gonna go away already?!” He retorted back.

Maybe you were being sensitive, but there was a slight pang in your chest, hearing him telling you to go away. 

“Jungkook my dude, I honestly thought you were brighter than this.” Mingyu chuckled, dragging you by your shoulder. “Come on miss girl, we are going home now.” 

Somi politely smiled at the guy before running to catch up with you and Mingyu. You glared at him one last time before turning your glance away. 

It was two in the morning that you heard your phone rang on a random Wednesday. You were barely awake and your room was dark enough that made it hard for you to see the caller name. But the heart and bunny emojis were a dead giveaway. You still had not changed his contact name.

“How do you insert back a hoodie drawstring?”

You looked at the hanging clock on the wall again after hearing that ridiculous question. “Do you know what time this is???”

“You borrowed this hoodie last time so maybe you ruined it.” 

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious right now.” You sighed. “That was like what, a month ago?!”

“Yeah, but I haven’t worn it since.” He retorted. 

“Can’t you just look up youtube tutorials or something? I can’t believe you called me just for this…” You complained. 

There was a short pause from the other line before he spoke again. “I’ve tried it, it’s still won’t go in. You fixed my other hoodie before too.”

You sighed again. Knowing the guy, you were sure he was pouting and looking miserable. “Hook a safety pin on one end of the string, that way you can easily slide it through the hole.”

“Alright, I’ll go get a safety pin.”

“Cool, I’m hanging up now.” 

“You’re not gonna wait until I’m done with it?”

“Do I have to?!” 

“Right.” His voice went low. “I’m sorry, thanks for picking up the call though.” He said before ending the call. 

Later on you spent the next hour fighting with yourself on whether you should text him just to ask if he managed to fix his hoodie or not. You ended up falling asleep before you actually send any chat bubble. 

Time passed and the next thing you knew, you were batshit drunk, asking for another shot at the bar with your already ruined makeup. 

You didn’t know why you decided to go drinking alone. Work was getting to you and all the pent up stress was just too much for you to bear for the day. At times like this you would usually call Jungkook, and man would show up at your doorstep no questions asked. No matter the time, he would always be ready to cheer you up. Now with him gone and him being the main reason you were miserable as well, alcohol was calling your name. 

As the bartender fixed you another shot, you took out your phone from the back pocket. Your vision was a bit blurry but you could still make up what was on the screen. There was an unread notification from Jungkook, blabbering about the games he left at your place and that he wanted to pick them up. 

Without much thinking you replied with, “Can’t. Too busy drinking my feelings away.” 

Not even thirty seconds later, a call rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Where even are you???” Jungkook asked. He sounded serious, the tone of his voice was laced with worries. 

“I’m at Joe’s.” You giggled, clearly not thinking straight. You were still sober enough to know what you were doing, but not enough for you to make a logical decision.

There was a long sigh from the other line. “I’ll pick you up.”

“N-No! Kookie— I mean—“ The call was already dead when you protested. 

Your rescue came just around ten to twelve minutes later. Your rescue came in a form of a beautiful man dressed in washed out grey hoodie, ripped jeans, fluffiest hair, who just happened to be your ex. He came to the bar and leaned over to ask the cashier about your order, paying for them. He sighed and turned to your direction again.  

He took you by the wrist. “Let’s go.”

You, undoubtedly still affected by alcohol, started to feel all kinds of things. Looking away, all you said was “No.” 

But you let him drag you from the seat, just silently holding your hand and guiding you to his car. 

The drive was silent and Jungkook didn’t even bother to turn the music player on. You avoided looking at his direction as best as you can, instead you tried to focus on fidgeting your own fingers.

“You sure you can manage on your own?” 

You only nodded. 

“I know I’m not one to talk but please take care of yourself. Don’t go drinking alone like this ever again.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” He sighed, running fingers through his locks. “You sure you can go to your room alone?”

“Why did you come?”

Jungkook looked at you, as if you were speaking in foreign language. 

“Aren’t we done?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want him to leave. Seeing him this close all you wanted was to jump into his embrace and to never ever let go. But as drunk as you were, you were still confused, hurting even. He was so eager to say yes when you asked for a breakup. It just did not make any sense to you as to why he kept reappearing in your life, as if he never wanted to leave in the first place. 

“Kook, aren’t we done?” You repeated. 

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Look, let me just help you inside.”

And so you let him grabbed you by your shoulder, helping you inside your apartment. He guided you to your couch and fetched a glass of water. You took a few sip of the water and leaned back against the sofa, closing your eyes due to the dizziness. 

“You good?”

You were not. How dare he, asking that question, knowing he was the main reason you were far from being okay in the first place. 

“No.” The alcohol in your system was making you honest. 

Jungkook looked hesitant, but he took a seat next to you. “Want me to stay?”

You couldn’t voice a respond, instead your thoughts wander at the video games that he left, still sitting prettily under the television, now seemingly forgotten yet again. You refused to say a thing. Somehow you hoped it would be his another excuse to keep contacting you. 

“I’ll help you change and then I’ll leave. Okay?”

You barely nodded. He grabbed you by your wrist and helped you to your room. Throughout your relationship you never really got drunk. That was why it when he helped you out of your clothes and gently changed it to a new one, even went for a cotton pad and a makeup remover (after looking for it for a solid five minutes) and helped cleaning your makeup, it made you fell in love with him all over again. 

He watched as you rested your head against your pillow, eyes barely opened. He looked around the room, finding something to do, anything. Anything just to keep him staying longer. 

“Thank you.” You said in an almost whisper. 

“Can I stay?” 

Your eyes widened just a bit but you couldn’t find yourself to refuse his offer. You nodded and hugged your plushie close. 

“I’ll help you change the bedsheets tomorrow.” He said as he joined you in bed next to you. 

He was hesitant at first, but ended up putting his arms over your waist. Both of you fell asleep with him resting his head on yours. The alcohol was definitely playing its part cause if you were sober, you knew you would just spend the rest of the night wide awake, heart bursting out from your chest. 

The morning came with a headache served next to it. The first thing you notice was a light snore, and the next quick seconds you noticed a tattooed arm draped around your body. Looking up all you saw was his long eyelash and his slightly ajar mouth that you wanted so badly to kiss. You did let Jungkook stay the night after all. 

Feeling your body shifting, the man spoke with his eyes still closed shut. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” You replied. “I need to go brush my teeth…” 

Instead Jungkook held you tighter. “Trust me, I’m insecure about my morning breath as well but give me a few more minutes.”

You didn’t say anything back, too afraid he could feel your heart beating rapidly, in which he most probably could. 

“Can I stay?” 

“What do you mean? You’re already here.” 

“No, I mean stay with you.” He finally opened his eyes, vision immediately towards you. “In our relationship…”

Your eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m a stubborn person and I worry you a lot…” He sighed. “I’ll try my best to change, and for that I need you with me.” His arm moved to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

A tear unknowingly escaped your eye and you giggled. The whole seven months of dating him, you had never seen this side of him. Not even at the day he confessed his feelings for you. You never knew how he could be so… sweet. Even sweeter than what you were used to. 

“Hey, don’t cry! I’m sorry…” He swiped your tears with his thumb quickly. 

You responded by hugging him, burying your face on his chest. 

“Uh, so does this mean…?” The boy asked skeptically. 

“I miss you.” You said with voice muffled by the material of his t-shirt. 

A small chuckle left him and his body relaxed, hugging you back. “I miss you too, you have no idea.”

You smiled, pulling away slightly to look at him. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna forget about your games again.”

He smirked. “I knew I left them when I first took my playstation.”

“Then why didn’t you take them?!” 

“I was dragging this out as long as I possibly can.” He sheepishly smiled, cheeks turning pink. “Why do you think I was even at that karaoke bar that day?!”

“I knew that was fishy!” You laughed. “Aww, you really did miss me, huh?”

“Yup.” He squeezed you in a big hug and peppered your face with smooches. 

“Jungkook!” You giggled. 

He suddenly moved to being on your top and caged you in between his arms. An evil smirk visible on his lips. “Ready to see how much I miss you?”

Safe to say he made you stay on the bed just a few hours more. 

Thank you for reading! 🎮

[deadsetobsessions]

Her name is Drake, Tim Drake.

Except, unlike Bond, James Bond, she’s not a badass who saves queens and get the girls at the end. Well, no, she did get the very amazing woman at the end, and she had the ring to prove it. But not right now. No, right now, she’s a tiny little girl in the middle of a mental breakdown as her parents cart her away from the bodies of the flying Graysons and their wailing son.

See, Tim Drake wasn’t supposed be a girl. Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be Theodora Janet Drake, shortened to Timmy because her air headed jackass of a father forgot her name once.

Tim Drake wasn’t supposed to be a woman shoved into a body that wasn’t hers.

By the time Timmy got out her catatonic state of existential crisis, her parental units (faulty parental units) had already left to a dig site a world away. The nanny they’d hired for the three year old had left the slip of a girl in her room, content to just make edible toddler food and spend the day casually checking in on her. The nanny had no concept of stealth, so at least Timmy could hear her thundering footsteps long before she got to Timmy’s room.

She would have been sad, had she not had a full set of memories of a well adjusted adult. In fact, all she felt was relief.

As weird as being comic book character is, Timmy supposed that she should be glad she wasn’t like the original. The dysphoria was already significant, in this tiny body, so pale and white, unlike her calloused and tanned skin she’d come to love. If she was in Tim Drake’s male body…

No, Timmy knew when to count her blessings.

Not that being beholden to Gotham was much of a blessing. Timmy could tell already that whatever had brought her here was going to make sure she stayed. How did she know?

There’s a gamer’s interface hovering on the right of her vision, blaring [WELCOME TO GOTHAM, PLAYER 1!] in annoyingly large white letters.

Timmy sighed and gave in. She tapped the ‘start’ button and the world greyed to a stop.

[ACHIEVEMENT- SO I’M IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE- MET!]

Underneath it, to Timmy’s tired mind, laid the damning and probably helpful:

[TUTORIAL UNLOCKED!]

Timmy tapped the screen again.

[Welcome to Gotham!] The informational screen started. [By now, you’ve realized that you’ve been reincarnated into the lovely and not at all depressing world of Batman!]

Timmy muttered, “Just Batman? Not DC?” She blinked as the informational screen paused its typing before replying to her.

[Right now, you’ve only got the Gotham mode unlocked. Work hard and you can unlock the rest of the world! Maybe even the universe!]

Huh. An interactive interface. Timmy wonders why she’s so calm about this.

[That will all be explained shortly! Please allow for the tutorial to continue and make sure to save your questions for the end!]

Well, Timmy doesn’t want to be rude. She nodded. Interestingly, the interface picked up on both her thoughts and her movements.

[Welcome to Gotham!] It starts again, and Timmy felt a bit of guilt in making it start over. It’s like getting cold called and the caller is just a tired person trying to make their quota for minimum wage and instead of patiently listening to the spiel, Timmy had interrupted so now they had to restart the rehearsed speech. Oof.

[You’ve been reincarnated into the body of our very own Red Robin, Timothy Drake! How exciting! The powers that be, was, and will be has selected your lucky soul to be a beta tester for their relatively new reincarnation roulette!]

See, none of that sounds particularly… “good” for Timmy. Timmy hums as she settled back on the greyed out floor, eyes fixed onto the screen.

[As such, to be the first player deposited in this universe-]

And oh, doesn’t that have some interesting implications.

[The powers that be have decided to grant you a boon! The Gamer’s Exclusive Ultra Package!]

The interface exploded with holographic confetti.

Timmy thought her wife would have loved this… had she not died months before Timmy did.

[Included is the exclusive Gamer’s Mind and Body passive status! You won’t be as traumatized by traumatizing things! A boon, in the hellscape that is Gotham!]

Timmy’s calling it. Whoever wrote this was a total troll. And had a sense of humor she could appreciate. That explained why she’s so… not freaking out about this entire thing.

[It also includes ten lucky draw tickets, with guaranteed five star skills/abilities per ticket! Wow! It’s almost worth getting killed and isekai’ed!]

Timmy snorted and tapped accept.

[And two revival tickets! These can bring any Schmuck dumb enough to get killed, right back to life, with zero drawbacks! To be used on anyone you wish, post tutorial.]

Timmy tilted her head. Useful. She tapped accept.

[Now, you might wonder: ah, why would the de oh so awesome and all powerful gods make me reincarnate here instead of allowing me to enjoy my afterlife with my beautiful wife?]

Timmy stilled, heart in her throat. That’s right… why?

The screen turned red. Ominously, smoke starts to steam out from the side.

[You’ve got blood on your hands, Timmy. That’s hard to wash away.]

The screen blinked back to its neutral blueish-white color.

[That, and it’s because the Powers that be made an oopsie and messed up this world so bad, we needed a soul from a different universe to replace Tim Drake’s. He kept dying! Which meant Batman kept dying! Which meant the entire universe went to shit! But we can’t just cut it off, it’s a main Universe! But nooo, does anyone listen to the admins? Noooo. Of course not! What does the literal administrator know in the face of an all powerful god-!]

Timmy blinked, sympathy welling for this person. This administrator. That sounded rough.

[Ahem. My apologies.] The admin apologized, somehow conveying sheepishness through a screen. Timmy got a notification.

[ACHIEVEMENT- COMMISERATING WITH A CO-WORKER- MET!]

[1,000 Shop Points Granted. Message: You’ve worked under tyrannical bosses too! Kindred Soul!]

“Yeah, it be like that. I’m sorry you had to clean up their messes.” Timmy said.

[I, too, am sorry you were dragged from your afterlife for it.]

The two overworked employees shared a solemn moment.

[Well, then! This brings us to your goal! Keep Batman from killing himself, and fulfill Timothy Drake’s Destiny!]

“And what is his destiny, exactly?”

[To keep Batman from dying, becoming a crime-fighter, get beat up by Jason Todd, and destroy Ra’s al Ghul’s work with explosions!]

“That’s… really specific. I just have to fulfill those?”

[Yes! Not in any particular order, of course. And in any way you see fit!]

That last part was italicized, like the admin knew what was brewing in Timmy’s brain. They probably did.

[And now, please direct your attention to the screen to the right. ]

Four boxes popped up.

SHOP

LUCKY DRAW

QUESTS

PROFILE

[Underneath “Quest” is all of your current objectives! For now, the Tutorial is selected and can not be put on hold!]

Timmy obligingly tapped “QUEST.”

Main Quest: Get Your Shit Together, Batman!

Main Quest: Jason Todd and His “E is rated for Everyone” Hands!

Main Quest: No Crime Under My Watch!

Main Quest: Play Bomberman With A Bunch Of Ninja Assassins Led By A Borderline Immortal Cult Leader!

Main Quest: Tutorial!

Side Quest: Level Up!

Side Quest: Learn a Skill!

Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye!

And so on, and so on.

“Woah. Nanny Nye-Bye?” Timmy tapped, clicking away at the reminder that Tutorial could not be paused.

[Side Quest: Nanny Bye-Bye.]

[Your nanny has been embezzling the allowance your parents gave her to feed you! Since your bourgeoisie parents have no sense of how much things should actually cost to eat, you’re stuck eating boxed food and unhealthy things while your nanny goes out for hotpot every other week! The injustice! Get her fired before the month ends!]

[Rewards: 1000 EXP. An approving nod from the scary Draconic Janet Drake. $800 per month.]

[Failure: -2 (permanent) to Health. Your status will be [Malnourished] until 17 years old. A disproving glance from the scary Draconic Janet Drake.]

…

“What the ****?”

[Language filters are unlocked at level five.]

Timmy grumbled.

“What if I need to curse to complete my missions?” She asked.

[Then Player One needs to buy herself a sense of creativity.]

Timmy scowled but moved on. She perused the shop, window shopping as one might say, while asking the Admin some more questions.

“Does the Keep Batman Alive quest have a time limit?”

[Until Damian Wayne has had at least four years of being Robin.]

Timmy nodded, brain whirring with plans.

“Hey, admin?”

[Yes, Player One?]

“If I’m player one, does that mean there will be other players?”

[Yes, Player One. There will be more! But unlike you, their abilities will be based on your feedback of the reincarnation system. Not to mention, they will not be reborn as a predetermined Main Character like yourself. This is because your existence was a result of a cosmic oopsie that had better never happen again or I’m going to rip their star-riddled hides from their cosmic bodies. Does that answer your question, Player One?]

Timmy leaned away from the screen. Intimidating.

“Yep. Thanks.”

[Anytime. Would you like to play the Lucky Draw?]

“Yes, please.”

The Luck Draw Menu was pulled up again. Timmy looked at the amount of tickets she had and shrugged. She tapped the “DRAW ONE” option.

The gacha machine spun and spun until:

[DING! DING! DING! Congratulations! You got a five star skill! Eloquence Beyond Measure!]

Timmy checked it out.

Eloquence Beyond Measure!

[As expected of a true Bristol elite (and not one of those snotty snobs of children running afoot with their parent’s money), you’ve gained the ability to spit fire and ice out of your mouth! What you want to say will always come out of your in a way that benefits you most! Diplomats kneel to your eloquence! Socialites dare not provoke you in fear of your barbed words! You’ll never sound like you don’t know what you’re doing ever again!]

Huh. Timmy grinned.

“Thanks, Administrator. Is the tutorial done? I just had an idea about that Nanny Side-Quest.”

[The last task is to check your profile, Player One.]

“Thanks. You can call me Timmy, you know? We’re in this together now.” Timmy grimaced. She just wanted to rest. Chances are, so did Admin.

[Timmy, then.]

Timmy tapped PROFILE.

Theodora “Timmy” Janet Drake

Level 1 (EXP to Next Level: 500)

Status: Healthy. Alive. Uninjured.

SKILLS: Eloquence Beyond Measure

[STATS]

Timmy sighed and exited out of the window to finish the tutorial. She could peruse the stats later. She’s kind of hungry.

[Now that you’ve finished the basics, the powers that be encourages you to try your best to live out this life and fulfill your destiny! The Prize at the completion of Tim Drake’s destiny will be a reunion! With your beloved wife! Work hard, and she’ll be placed on this earth once more!]

Timmy sat up, throat burning. She could see her wife again? To tell her how she missed her and how much she loved her?

Timmy’s heart burned once more since the death of her wife.

Determination filled her now small body. She’ll wrangle the Bats to therapy kicking and screaming if that’s what it took to meet her beloved wife again.

[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’VE FINISHED THE TUTORIAL! LEVEL UP! (1000 EXP TO LEVEL THREE)]

[REWARD: A PHONE! 100 SHOP POINTS!]

Timmy dialed the first contact she saw in the phone.

“Hello, this is Theodora Drake. Might I speak to my mother?” Her three year old voice smoothed out, suddenly eloquent and powerful in a way it simply wasn’t before. Eloquence Beyond Measure was proving useful already.

“Yes, of- of course, Miss Drake. Please hold.”

She waited.

“Theodora. What is it, daughter? You know better than to interrupt our digs.”

“Mother, it has come to my attention that my nanny is embezzling money from you. I have been eating boxed mac n’ cheese and only that for the past three days. They cost four dollars each. I would hate for my growth to be stunted.”

Two days later, Janet Drake and Jack Drake stormed into the mansion and threw out the nanny. Janet gives her an approving nod at her sudden eloquence (wow, these people had no idea what children were supposed to be like) and gave her a credit card to use freely.

Rich people. Honestly.

Timmy’s sly gaze was highlighted by the invisible glow of the congratulations banner.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When prophecy fails, election polling edition

In Canto 20 of Inferno, Dante confronts a pit where the sinners have had their heads twisted around backwards; they trudge, naked and weeping, through puddles of cooling tears. Virgil informs him that these are the fortunetellers, who tried to look forwards in life and now must look backwards forever.

In a completely unrelated subject, how about those election pollsters, huh?

Writing for The American Prospect, historian Rick Perlstein takes a hard look at characteristic failure modes of election polling and ponders their meaning:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-09-25-polling-imperilment/

Apart from the pre-election polling chaos we're living through today, Perlstein's main inspiration is W Joseph Campbell 2024 University of California Press book, Lost in a Gallup: Polling Failure in US Presidential Elections:

https://www.ucpress.edu/books/lost-in-a-gallup/paper

In Campbell's telling, US election polling follows a century-old pattern: pollsters discover a new technique that works spookily well..for a while. While the new polling technique works, the pollster is hailed a supernaturally insightful fortune-teller.

In 1932, the Raleigh News and Observer was so impressed with polling by The Literary Digest that they proposed replacing elections with Digest's poll. The Digest's innovation was sending out 20,000,000 postcards advertising subscriptions and asking about presidential preferences. This worked perfectly for three elections – 1924, 1928, and 1932. But in 1936, the Digest blew it, calling the election for Alf Landon over FDR.

The Digest was dethroned, and new soothsayers were appointed: George Gallup, Elmo Roper and Archibald Crossler, who replaced the Digest's high-volume polling with a new kind of poll, one that sought out a representative slice of the population (as Perlstein says, this seems "so obvious in retrospect, you wonder how nobody thought of it before").

Representative polling worked so well that, three elections later, the pollsters declared that they could predict the election so well from early on that there was no reason to keep polling voters. They'd just declare the winner after the early polls were in and take the rest of the election off.

That was in 1948 – you know, 1948, the "Dewey Defeats Truman" election?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dewey_Defeats_Truman

If this sounds familiar, perhaps you – like Perlstein – are reminded of the 2016 election, where Fivethirtyeight and Nate Silver called the election for Hillary Clinton, and we took them at their word because they'd developed a new, incredibly accurate polling technique that had aced the previous two elections.

Silver's innovation? Aggregating state polls, weighting them by accuracy, and then producing a kind of meta-poll that combined their conclusions.

When Silver's prophecy failed in 2016, he offered the same excuse that Gallup gave in 1948: when voters are truly undecided, you can't predict how they'll vote, because they don't know how they'll vote.

Which, you know, okay, sure, that's right. But if you know that the election can't be called, if you know that undecided voters are feeding noise into the system whenever you poll them, then why report the polls at all? If all the polling fluctuation is undecided voters flopping around, not making up their mind, then the fact that candidate X is up 5 points with undecided means nothing.

As the finance industry disclaimer has it, "past performance is no guarantee of future results." But, as Perlstein says, "past performance is all a pollster has to go on." When Nate Silver weights his model in favor of a given poll, it's based on that poll's historical accuracy, not its future accuracy, because its future accuracy can't be determined until it's in the past. Like Dante's fortune-tellers, pollsters have to look backwards even as they march forwards.

Of course, it doesn't help that in some cases, Silver was just bad at assessing polls for accuracy, like when he put polls from the far-right "shock pollster" Trafalgar Group into the highly reliable bucket. Since 2016, Trafalgar has specialized in releasing garbage polls that announce that MAGA weirdos are way ahead, and because they always say that, they were far more accurate than the Clinton-predicting competition in 2016 when they proclaimed that Trump had it in the bag. For Silver, this warranted an "A-" on reliability, and that is partially to blame for how bad Silver's 2020 predictions were, when Republicans got pasted, but Trafalgar continued to predict a Democratic wipeout. Silver's methodology has a huge flaw: because Trafalgar's prediction history began in 2016, that single data-point made them look pretty darned reliable, even though their method was to just keep saying the same thing, over and over:

https://www.ettingermentum.news/p/the-art-of-losing-a-fivethirtyeight

Pollsters who get lucky with a temporarily reliable methodology inevitably get cocky and start cutting corners. After all, polling is expensive, so discontinuing the polls once you think you have an answer is a way to increase the enterprise's profitability. But, of course, pollsters can only make money so long as they're somewhat reliable, which leads to a whole subindustry of excuse-making when this cost-cutting bites them in the ass. In 1948, George Gallup blamed his failures on the audience, who failed to grasp the "difference between forecasting an election and picking the winner of a horse race." In 2016, Silver declared that he'd been right because he'd given Trump at 28.6% chance of winning.

This isn't an entirely worthless excuse. If you predict that Clinton's victory is 71.4% in the bag, you are saying that Trump might win. But pollsters want to eat their cake and have it, too: when they're right, they trumpet their predictive accuracy, without any of the caveats they are so insistent upon when they blow it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jDlo7YfUxc

There's always some excuse when it comes to the polls: in 1952, George Gallup called the election a tossup, but it went for Eisenhower in a landslide. He took out a full-page NYT ad, trumpeting that he was right, actually, because he wasn't accounting for undecided voters.

Polling is ultimately a form of empiricism-washing. The pollster may be counting up poll responses, but that doesn't make the prediction any less qualitative. Sure, the pollster counts responses, but who they ask, and what they do with those responses, is purely subjective. They're making guesses (or wishes) about which people are likely to vote, and what it means when someone tells you they're undecided. This is at least as much an ideological project as it is a scientific one:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2024-09-23-polling-whiplash/

But for all that polling is ideological, it's a very thin ideology. When it comes to serious political deliberation, questions like "who is likely to vote" and "what does 'undecided' mean" are a lot less important than, "what are the candidates promising to do?" and "what are the candidates likely to do?"

But – as Perlstein writes – the only kind of election journalism that is consistently, adequately funded is poll coverage. As a 1949 critic put it, this isn't the "pulse of democracy," it's "its baby talk."

Today, Tor Books publishes VIGILANT, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER story about creepy surveillance in distance education. It follows SPILL, another new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/26/dewey-beats-truman/#past-performance-is-no-guarantee-of-future-results

[corrodedcorpses]

Boys on Film. Part iv

Pairing: PS!Steve x PS!Eddie x Virgin!reader

Summary: It's been a year since you last saw Eddie and Steve. The last place you expected to see them again for the first time was at a club while you were out with your new boyfriend. The night does not go how you imagined it at all.

Warnings: Smut (18+ MDNI), public sex (ish), fingering, angst, cheating (sorry)

Word count: 6.8K

a/n: I hope this kind of makes up for the ending of the last chapter but also I'm sorry in advance. (also as always a massive thank yous to my babies @andvys @wroteclassicaly @usedtobecooler @bimbobaggins69 for all of your help I love you all so much)

Taglist is closed but if you want an update on when I post the next chapter you can follow my fic account @corrodedcorpsesfics and turn on notifications🖤

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4.5

Steve and Eddie stare at your closed door that had just been slammed in their face moments ago. It had all gone so wrong, so fast. Neither of them had meant for it to go that way or to fight like that with you. All of their (and your own) long harboured emotions coming out during the fight, all of the love turning into hate in order to protect your hearts from - what you all assumed - would no doubt be rejection. 

Eddie is the first to break eye contact with your door. Scoffing and walking toward his van as Steve leans his head on the door, closing his eyes trying to will you to open it again. He’s almost sure he can hear tiny sobs coming from the other side and it feels like his heart is breaking all over again. 

He can hear Eddie behind him, pacing and grumbling out “shit”, “fuck” and mumbling “that was so stupid” over and over again. Steve is frozen in place, he knows as soon as he breaks away from your door that it’s all over, that he’ll have to face the reality of what just happened. He doesn’t know if he can do that yet. 

A loud smack, that was obviously Eddie’s palm hitting his car, finally jolts Steve out of his self pity. He finally turns to him, watching as Eddie continues to pace and mumble expletives under his breath, his ringed fingers running through his hair with so much force Steve thinks he’s about to rip it all out. 

“Eddie,” he tries, too quietly as the other man doesn’t stop. 

He glances at your door one more time before sighing and walking up to Eddie. 

“Eddie,” he says more firmly, standing next to where he continues to pace, “come on man-”

“Don't you ‘come on man’ me,” Eddie interrupts, whipping around to finally look at Steve,  “what the fuck was that, Harrington.” 

Steve flinches at the use of his last name, something Eddie only uses to tease or hurt him. 

“What the fuck was what, Munson?” Steve throws his own surname back at him with just as much venom, Eddie squinting his eyes into a glare. 

“All that,” Eddie explains, wildly gesturing to your house, “bullshit you pulled in there. ‘At least you wouldn’t have been a virgin in your twenties’,” he mocks what Steve had said to you. 

“The bullshit I pulled?” Steve almost shouts back, “What about you, huh?” He asks, a finger poking into Eddie’s chest to reiterate his point. “You didn’t break that shit to her gently at all! No wonder she went straight into ‘defence mode’.”

 Eddie just rolls his eyes at him, even though he knows Steve's right. 

The action only angers Steve more. “I wasn’t even in that stupid argument until you dragged me in with your bullshit about hanging out with King Steve.” 

Eddie visibly cringes at the memory of using Steve’s old title, one he knew Steve loathed and has done years of work to be anything but. But, Eddie couldn’t let Steve ‘win’ the argument. If he did he would have to admit that all of this was his fault. 

“Whatever,” Eddie scoffs, “the argument only turned nasty as soon as you put your 2 cents in! The shit you said was just—” Eddie pauses, remembering how Steve had teased him for not ‘making a move’ on you sooner, saying everyone thought you were Eddie’s ‘property’ during high school, outing him for scaring away anyone that dared to get close to you because he knew that weren’t good enough for you, “mean.”

Eddie whispers the last word. The only word he could come up with to express how he felt, how that whole argument transported him right back to his teenage years, something he truly thought he had gotten over from the help of you and Steve. Something he obviously was far from getting over. 

Steve’s demeanour changes, he can see the hurt in Eddie’s eyes, the sliver of vulnerability that he’s been hiding behind his rage. He understands the weight that one word holds.

“I didn’t intend for it to be mean, I just, I don’t know, it just–-” he’s taken aback, stuttering through some sort of an explanation, but there isn’t one. He was mean. 

“It’s like you wanted to hurt her,” Eddie continues, but he doesn’t mean just you, “hurt me.” He whispers so softly, he’s sure Steve wouldn’t even hear him. But Steve does.

“What? Why would I want to hurt someone I love!” Steve says too quickly in response, eyes widening when he realises what he just said, what he just confessed to Eddie. But when he looks at Eddie he only sees hurt in his eyes. 

Eddie still doesn’t think Steve heard him say ‘hurt me’, so he takes Steve’s confession as a confession of love for you, not you and him. 

Eddie just laughs with no humour, shaking his head. “I was fucking right, I fucking knew you hadn’t changed – you’re such an asshole, man.” 

The cogs in Eddie’s head turn, thinking back to how Steve had said all those things against him, no doubt finally seeing his opportunity to put a wedge between you both, so Steve could finally have you all to himself.

Steve just stares at him in shock as whatever fragments of his heart that were left break even further. He didn’t think Eddie loved him back but there was some part of him that had hoped, that had at least thought Eddie would be nice about it, gentle with his heart even if he didn’t want to keep it.  

He didn’t think Eddie would laugh in his face and call him an asshole. 

“Wow,” Steve says to himself in disbelief, “okay.” He feels the tears well up in his eyes as his chest physically aches from all of the heartbreak tonight. He doesn’t want Eddie to see him break down, he'd no doubt laugh at his misery. 

He starts to walk away from Eddie, it’s the only thing he can think to do. It’s only a couple of miles to his house, the air isn’t too cold and it’s not too late — he can easily just walk home, he thinks. 

“Steve?” Eddie questions as the other boy starts to hurry away from him, “Steve!” He tries again, an air of worry in his voice as he calls out, “Seriously? You’re just gonna walk away from me too huh?” Eddie yells. 

“Whatever man,” Steve yells back, already at the end of your driveway, stopping only when his shoes hit the road to look back at Eddie, “you basically just rejected me so, I don’t need this shit anymore.” Steve spits, mentally cursing the way his voice wobbles as he says it. He continues down the road, needing to get as much distance between him and Eddie before he can finally break down. 

“What?” Eddie says too quietly, he realises when Steve doesn’t respond, “rejected you?” he shouts this time. But still Steve doesn’t stop. 

“Steve! Would you — shit,” Eddie curses. He’s so confused about what Steve meant, he’s so confused about this whole evening but he needs to know. The tiny sliver of his heart that is holding onto hope needs to know what Steve meant. 

Eddie runs around to the drivers side and launches himself into his van. Cursing when the engine turns over way too many times before it finally roars to life. He swings out of the driveway like a madman, thanking the universe that you live on a quiet street. 

He catches up with Steve quickly, slowing the van down until he’s driving right beside him. He’s happy he never listened to you and Steve about needing to roll his windows up. 

“Steve, would you just stop,” Eddie pleads. 

“No,” is all Steve replies.  

“Steve,” Eddie pleads exasperatedly, “what did you mean?”

But Steve doesn’t answer and he doesn't stop walking. He hopes if he ignores Eddie long enough that he will just leave him alone.

And he thinks his plan worked when Eddie suddenly drives forwards down the road. But, those hopes are shattered when Eddie parks a little bit ahead of Steve and hops out. 

Steve finally stops walking as he sees Eddie running towards him. He should just turn around and walk away, circle back around at the other end of your street, it’s a longer way to walk but at least he wouldn’t have to see Eddie. But he doesn’t, his feet won’t let him move. He sees Eddie rushing towards him and his whole body aches for Eddie to just hold him as he breaks down and melts into his arms.  

When Eddie finally gets to Steve he’s quick to invade his space, cupping his face tenderly in both of his hands. Eddie searches Steve’s eyes, he can see the unshed tears threatening to spill, the hurt and the tiny bit of hope Steve also holds. It’s enough for Eddie to ask again, even if it could mean more heartache. 

“Steve,” he whispers so tenderly, it makes Steve’s knees almost buckle, makes it even harder to not just fall at Eddie’s feet and beg him to love him back, “what did you mean?”

Steve swallows, hard. He looks into Eddie’s big, brown, pleading eyes. He knows he’s about to get his heart smashed, completely obliterated when he explains himself, but he can’t stop his mouth from moving. God, he would do anything Eddie asked while he cradled his face so delicately and looked at him like that. 

“I basically just told you I wanted you,” he whispers, eye’s never leaving Eddie’s “a-and you just told me to, to get fucked.” He closes his eyes trying to will his tears to stay at bay, the last sentence coming out all wobbly as he tries to stop his bottom lip from trembling. 

“Steve…” Eddie says in a way that has Steve opening his eyes again. He’s met with confusion and yearning swimming in Eddie’s beautiful brown orbs. “You want me?” Eddie asks in disbelief, “I - I thought you were talking about her!” It comes out like a question, like a plea. 

“I was,” Steve says, and he can see Eddie’s eyes start to fall, feel his hands on his cheeks loosen, Steve is quick to grab Eddie’s wrists, keeping his hands on his cheeks before quickly continuing, “I was talking about both of you, idiot.” He says the last word fondly, with a hint of a smile dancing on his still trembling lips.

Eddie can’t help but return a small smile of his own. Steve wants him too. He leans forward to capture Steve’s lips with his own. It’s the only thing he can think to do in the moment, the only thing his body will let him do. Steve returns the kiss immediately. It’s soft, so soft that it sears their lips, all of the passion and pent up feelings and anger from the last hour coming out in the way their lips and tongue dance together so slowly. 

Eddie finally pulls back after they’ve run out of air, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “I like you too,” he whispers, just in case it wasn’t obvious, revelling in the way it makes Steve smile, “I like you both too.”

Steve pulls back to look at Eddie properly, he can see the mix of happiness and regret all over Eddie’s face. 

“Oh.” Steve says. It’s all he can say, he sees the whole argument differently now, sees how stupid they both had been. He realises why Eddie said and did what he did and regrets the things he said to him. Knowing how much more they would have hurt now. 

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Eddie replies. 

“We're idiots.” Steve sighs. 

“Yep.” Eddie agrees. 

“Should we… go back inside?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head knowingly, “give her some time, trust me.” 

He thinks back to all the times you showed up at his trailer door, sheepishly asking if you could spend the day or the night or the weekend when you were upset. Always claiming to need space from your family after you fought. Eddie never realising what you needed wasn’t space, what you needed was him. 

But you never told him that. 

So, they do give you time. They give you a day to cool off, to sit with your thoughts before they call, but are only met with silence in return. They try again a day later — and again another day after that. They try to go over to your house a week later but you’re either not there or are pretending not to be. 

They try again and again and again until trying every day turns into every two days, which turns into trying every week, which turns into trying every now and then over the next couple of months. The last time they tried was months later when they had had a particularly rough day and just needed you. 

All of this was met with silence. 

You weren’t sure what you expected when you kicked them out, but you hadn’t expected them to just leave. You had expected them to at least come back later that night or the next day. 

Not call you late the next night like that would make up for anything and you didn’t expect it to take them a full week of calling before coming over to try and see you. 

All of this just seemed to cement the idea in your head that they didn’t care about you as much as you'd been stupid enough to believe they did. 

You didn’t realise how upset and borderline distraught this had also made them. You didn’t realise how upset they were after every failed attempt. How they had both sat on the kitchen floor in their new apartment months later and cried, surrounded by half unpacked boxes after that final time they tried, and failed, to call. Because none of this felt right without you.  

And they didn’t realise how you’d done the exact same thing on the floor in your kitchen that night, cursing yourself for not just picking up the damn phone this time.  

******* 

You hold the two dresses up against your body, one at a time. Trying to decide between the black — tight, revealing and super uncomfortable or the dusty pink — a stark contrast, more modest, cute and comfortable. 

You’d spent the last hour getting ready for your date with your boyfriend of about 6 months, Bradley. He was… nice… and fun… and, well, a good distraction. It was nice to feel needed. But, you know deep down that it ultimately won’t go anywhere.  

There’s just something… missing. A spark? Passion? Familiarity? The fact that he’s not Eddie or Steve?

You groan at yourself for even having that thought, dropping the dresses back on your bed as your eyes land on the picture on your dresser next to your mirror. It’s a cute photo of you, Eddie and Steve, faces squished together and giant smiles plastered on your faces. A photo you still can’t bring yourself to get rid of. 

You sigh and flip it over as you seem to before every date, the picture somehow making you feel guilty. As if the two people in the photo hadn’t completely broken your heart. But you know you’ll just put it back to its original position as soon as you get home again. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, before you make the mistake of going down that black hole of missing them once again. You decide to just go for the revealing, uncomfortable dress — knowing Bradley would probably like it more, praise you for showing off the curves you mostly hid from him. 

You’ll hopefully be too drunk to feel the discomfort anyway. 

*****

The club is loud and packed when you arrive with Bradley, the bass and the stench of spilled sugary drinks overwhelming. You clutch the strap of the purse that’s across your chest nervously, there’s a split second where you want to turn around, hightail it out of there and cuddle up at home by yourself instead. You from a year ago would’ve, but you’re not that same person anymore. 

“Drinks?” He yells at you over the music. He’s at least courteous enough to keep a tight arm around your waist, hugging you in close to shield you slightly from the rowdy party goers who already had one too many to drink. 

“Please,” you yell back before you both make your way to the bar. Winding through the growing crowd of rowdy people, his hand heavy on your skin, feeling out of place. 

You rest your forearms against the bar, wincing at the sticky feeling underneath. You watch as the bartenders flit around, making the various overpriced, overly sweet drinks for the other patrons who arrived long before you. 

Your eyes wander as you wait, taking in the neon signs behind the bar, the shelves of alcohol with countless cheap labels, smiling as you see two girls overly excited to see each other, the guys next to you obviously getting rejected by the girls standing in front of them, the couple that can't seem to keep their hands off each other at the very end of the bar –- wait. 

Wait.

You stare at the couple for longer than you should. Your brain taking a second to catch up with your eyes. You can only see the back of the guy as you take in his dark clothes, the chain bracelet on his wrist, the tattoos littered along his pale skin, the bats adorning his forearm, the long mop of curly brown hair- No. No no no no no. 

Eddie?

Your head starts to spin, and not just from the overwhelming atmosphere of the club. Why is he here? Why now? Why is he with a girl? You curse yourself for even thinking that last part and for the pang of jealousy in your chest. You’re here with your boyfriend, you can’t be getting jealous of the guy who broke your heart being here with some other girl. 

Even if he was your best friend for all of highschool, the only person who got you through that hell hole, one of the only people you’ve ever truly trusted, truly loved, who you definitely still love more than your own boyfriend as much as you try to pretend you don't, whose back is doing more things for you than your boyfriend has the whole time you’ve been dating, who kisses so much better than him, who looks really good right now kissing… Steve?!   

It’s only then that Eddie turns slightly, giving you a glimpse of the ‘mystery girl’. You feel like you’re gonna be sick. What are they doing? Here? Together? God they look so good. 

All thoughts fail you as you’re mesmerised watching them. The way their bodies press against each other, how Eddie has both hands lazily in Steve's back pockets as Steve's hands fist the front of Eddie’s shirt. Your cunt aches at the way their lips move together as though they’ve done this a thousand times. 

They probably have done this a thousand times, you realise. They way they are standing, so relaxed with each other, like there's no hurry to the makeout session, like they have all night.  

You're confused and hurt as you watch them. You can’t help but wonder if they’re together, they make a hot couple afterall. But you can’t help the awful feelings that that realisation arises. All of your fears from a year ago come flooding back, you were right. They never wanted you.  

Before you can fully spiral you see Bradley’s hand wave in front of your face, it’s then that you realise he’s been talking to you and you see a stressed bartender give you a forced yet polite smile, as they wait for you to tell them what you want. 

“Hello? y/n?” He asks, concerned. 

“Huh?” You reply, dumb, unable to take your eyes off of them — it’s all your brain can come up with as a response, too absorbed in the scene taking place just feet from you.

“What would you like?” He asks, like he’s already asked you multiple times. You rip your eyes away from them, focusing on Bradley’s face that’s still soft and full of admiration, as if you hadn’t been actively ignoring him. As if time hadn’t just stood still, as you watched on in what could only be described as devastation.

“Oh-- ah-- just my usual,” you say finally, glancing back at Eddie and Steve. Watching as Steve’s hand curls into Eddie's hair, it’s longer now, you realise. I wonder if it would still be as soft or if - you shake that image out of your head. “Maybe some shots? Patreon or tequila, you like both right?” You add quickly.

Bradley seems surprised but compiles, ordering one of his own. You take the small glass in your hand, bringing it up to your lips, the strong smell already paralysing, before downing it as fast as you can. You make the mistake of glancing at Eddie and Steve again as you do, finding yourself making eye contact with Steve, realising they’re both looking at you now. You almost choke on the drink in your mouth, wincing at how the liquid burns more than usual as it slides down your throat. 

You grab your drink and Bradley's hand, quickly leading him to the dancefloor. Needing to get as much space between you and the boys as possible. 

Eddie and Steve watch you take the other guy's hand with dark eyes. You spare a glance back seeing Steve’s angry eyes as Eddie whispers something in his ear. 

Angry? What does he have to be angry about? 

You weave in and out of the crowd as they stumble and bump into you, the alcohol making them stagger on their feet and spill their drinks haphazardly on the floor. The further you get lost into the sea of people the more you try to shake Steve and Eddie out of your head, determined to still have a good time despite the anxiety that has wrapped its way around your chest. 

Once you’re almost in the centre of the dancefloor, safely concealed by the thrawl of dancers, you turn to your boyfriend. You pull him in close, rocking your hips to the sound of the music and giving him a forced smile. 

You dance with him for a while, getting lost in the music as you feel the alcohol seep through your body. Although it does nothing to settle the ugly feeling deep in your stomach. As much as you try you can’t help but spare little glances around the club, not being able to stop yourself from aching for just one more glance at them. 

You finally see them, startled by the fact that they’re only a couple of people away from you. Steve is the only one actually dancing but Eddie is happily swaying with him, more than content with and touching Steve and placing gentle kisses all over his neck. Your chest tightens further at the need to tease Eddie about finally dancing, the realisation that you can’t joke with him like that anymore and the jealousy that he would come out to the dancefloor with Steve, even though he never would for you. 

As these ugly emotions swirl around your stomach you realise they’re both watching you, stealing glances the same way you are, but a lot less subtly. Your blood boils at the looks they're giving you, they seem hurt and angry and almost… sad? They have no right to. 

You turn your attention back to Bradley, you make out and grind against him, every now and then looking at them both and winking when you see them clench their jaws. 

You’re confused as you continue your show. What do they have to be angry about? Why do they even care that you’re dancing with someone that isnt them? There was a time when they could’ve had you, a time when you would’ve done anything for them but they were the ones who threw you away. They have no right to be angry now. 

Bradley leans down to whisper in your ear, you’re hopeful that he’s going to say something hot, a compliment or something, instead he lets you know he’s going to get more drinks, leaving you alone in the crowd before you can say anything else. You try to not look anxious about being alone in such a dense crowd of strangers, knowing Bradley is going to take a long time with how packed it is. 

You find some comfort knowing that Steve and Eddie are close by, although you’re not sure why. You decide to continue dancing, doing the most to look as hot and unbothered as possible, but when you spare another glance at Steve and Eddie you’re surprised to find they’ve also gone. It’s weird how their absence has made you feel more alone than Bradley’s. 

You start to leave, deciding to head outside for some fresh air before going to find Bradley where he’s no doubt still waiting at the bar. That is, until you feel hands lightly on your waist. You start to panic, until you hear the stranger whisper in your ear. 

“Hey there, little one.”

Eddie. 

Your body shudders at hearing his voice again. You have to fight every nerve in your body to not melt back into him, turn around and wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest. But you don’t, you're frozen in place instead. 

“We liked that little show you put on for us, sweetheart,” he continues as you feel his hands massage small circles in your hips as he presses himself closer to you, you can feel the outline of his semi against your ass and it takes everything in you not to moan at the feeling. 

He starts to rock you both to the music before pressing gentle kisses along your neck. So feather light you’re not sure if you’re actually imagining them, just some mean trick your mind is playing on you. You start to melt back against him, your body betraying you as it’s automatically drawn into the safety of Eddie’s chest and arms. 

You let yourself get caught up in the feeling before reality comes crashing down. You have a boyfriend, he has a boyfriend, you can’t be doing this. You snap out of the weird trance you’ve been in, pulling away from Eddie and finally turning to face him, fully preparing yourself to tell him off before you see the look on his face. 

It causes your breath to hitch as you see the pure lust written all over his face, his blown and glassy pupils staring into your soul and the possessiveness buried deep inside them that makes your thighs clench. 

You go to take a step back, needing space between you both but your back collides with another chest instead. Another set of lips brushing your ear as they whisper lowly to you.  

“Don't be like that, honey.” 

Steve. 

Your head swims at the proximity of both of them. The familiar smells and feel of them crumbling whatever stubborn exterior you were trying to portray. 

You feel Steve's hands run along the sides of your waist and down your thighs before tracing light patterns back up again, your dress pulling up at the sides as he does. He pushes against you as Eddie had, although he is a lot more worked up from your little show than Eddie was — a testament to how he always was more of the jealous type. 

“Can you feel what your little show did to us baby?” He asks like you’ve wounded them. Eddie pushing against you at the same time. “You’re so fucking naughty, getting us all worked up like that.”

“Anything to say for yourself, miss?” Eddie asks when you don’t respond right away. How could you? Your head feels like it's about to spin off your shoulders, your cunt feels like it’s about to start dripping down your thighs, they’ve thoroughly wrecked you with no more than some gentle touches, barely any grinding and a couple of words whispered seductively in your ears. 

You only manage a small moan in response, one that you’re thankful only they can hear over the loud music. 

They both chuckle at your response, knowing they have you right where they want you. Loving how fucking easy you are for them. 

Steve’s fingers continue to dance along your thighs as Eddie’s hand comes to rest on your waist again, both of them pressing into you and swaying you to the music, causing their hardening cocks to grind against you.  

Steve's fingers slide to the front of your dress, tracing up the inside of your thighs as you let out a little whimper. Steve smirks against your skin as he starts to kiss up your throat as Eddie had just before. Your eyes start to flutter shut as Steve’s fingers inch higher, so close to where you desperately need him. 

“That feel nice, pretty girl?” Steve asks, although he already knows the answer, “want me to keep going?” 

Eddie keeps his eyes trained on your blissed out face, sucking on his bottom lip as he anxiously waits for your answer. 

You nod your head slowly, words failing you as you melt back into Steve. 

“Ah, ah,” Eddie tuts, “you know the rules princess, use your words.” 

“P-please.” You barely breathe out, and Eddie’s sure he would’ve missed it if his eyes weren't glued to your lips. 

He nods at Steve, who groans as his fingers finally make contact with your dripping cunt, feeling the slick that’s soaked through your panties. 

Eddie holds your waist tighter, half keeping you upright as your legs start to shake, half shielding you from any onlookers as he continues to sway his hips, making it look like you three were just dancing.

Steve dips his fingers into your underwear, moaning in your ear as he gathers your slick on his thick fingers before rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he teases, “this is all for us huh?”

You can only nod and whine in response, too far gone to be embarrassed by how close they were getting you already. No one except for Steve and Eddie have been able to get you this close this fast. 

You feel the coil in your stomach tighten further as Steve's thick digits breach your aching cunt, finding a steady pace immediately, his palm dragging deliciously over your slick clit. Eddie’s grip on your waist becomes so tight you’re sure he’s gonna leave bruises that you’re going to have to try and explain to Bradley later, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re happy that he’s at least holding you somewhat upright as your knees start to get weak. 

Eddie presses further into you still to keep you upright, so far that Steve can feel Eddie’s hard cock pulsing against his hand even through his jeans. Making Steve’s cock ache for some sort of release as he starts to rock gently into your ass. Craving some relief. 

You feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching as you teeter on the edge. Only able to get out small sputters of “I’m, I’m—” before you’re burying your face in the crook of Eddie’s neck as your orgasm comes crashing into you. 

Your ears ring and your vision goes white as you ride out your orgasm around Steve’s fingers, rutting against his hand while clinging to Eddie. 

When you finally start to come down from your high you’re barely aware of the music still blaring around you, focusing only on Steve’s hands rubbing soothing circles in your thighs, Eddie’s hand in your hair and their praises gently flowing through your ears. 

Suddenly, reality hits you like a truck. Completely cracking the walls of whatever weird dream you’ve been trapped in with Eddie and Steve. Suddenly everything seems too much, their touch is suffocating and grating against your skin, the music of the club is blaring too loud, rocking your skull and their sweet whispers might as well be screams in your ear. 

You need to get away. 

You finally look at Eddie, his eyes meeting yours. He knows that look. 

“y/n-,” he tries as you start to squirm out of their grip. 

“Let me go”, you suddenly hiss at him, finally breaking free and rushing through the crowd and out the door. You hear them yell after you, but you keep going, their voices being drowned out by the music the further you get away from them. 

By the time you finally make it outside you feel as if you can hardly breathe. Your chest is so tight and you struggle to take shallow breaths, you can feel the unshed tears prick your eyes as you try and will them to keep at bay. Although you’re not sure why, you’re almost certain your makeup must be a mess now, most of it left on Eddie’s collar, you doubt a couple of tears would really make much of a difference. 

You shakily reach into the clutch still thankfully secured across your chest, fishing out a smoke. You put one between your lips as you try, but fail to find your lighter. You sigh in frustration, of course you’ve lost your lighter. 

“Here, let me.” You hear someone whisper, before you see the flicker of a lighter in front of your lips. You don’t have to look up from your clutch to know that it’s Eddie. Your eyes meet his timid ones as you lean forward, using the flame to light the end of your cigarette. 

“Thanks,” you mumble before looking beside Eddie, realising Steve also followed you out here. 

You all stand in awkward silence, Eddie busying himself by lighting his own cigarette. 

“I– ah,” Steve finally breaks the silence. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs you to hear, but the words won't form, instead he opts for, “didn’t know you smoked.” 

You snort half a laugh, shaking your head. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say but it definitely wasn't that. Sorry would have been a good start… but at least you’re talking, you guess. 

“There’s a lot you both don’t know about me anymore,” you reply, deadpan. You see them both visibly flinch at the implication of your words. It's been over a year since they last saw you, you've had a whole year's worth of experiences without them, would they even recognise the person you'd become? 

You bring your smoke back up to your lips, thankful for the distraction it provides and for how it's almost calming most of your nerves. 

It doesn't, however, distract you enough to not feel their hungry eyes on you. You're surprised your dress doesn't have holes burnt into the fabric with how hot and heavy their gazes are. You adjust your dress with your free hand trying to pull the fabric down, cursing yourself now for wearing the revealing dress. 

You don’t want them to see you squirm, you need to keep up this teasing, nonchalant act you were trying to portray, you couldn't let them know how much seeing them again was hurting you. 

“See something you like?” You slur seductively at them, not shying away from their eyes. Even as your palms sweat and your heart rattles in your chest. 

They both chuckle and shake their heads, not in disagreement but at the absurdity of your question. Of course they did. You looked stunning, confident. In a dress you usually would be too shy to wear. It was nice to see you like this, but it was also weird. 

Not weird in a bad way, it just hurt. It hurt them to see that you finally seemed to be growing into yourself and hopefully finally seeing how beautiful you were. Except it was without them. 

“You seem… different,” Eddie finally managed. He couldn't think of a better way to put it. Not better, not worse, just different. But that's what heartbreak will do to a person. 

“I am different.” You say back, no hidden meaning behind it, like it’s that simple. 

They were different. You were different. You’d just grown away from each other. You’d all changed and grown in the year that had passed, in the year that you had all ached for each other. Now here you were, and it felt like you were talking to strangers. 

You had a picture of them on your dresser that you saw everyday, and yet it felt like those two men were different from the ones that stood in front of you now. 

It makes your whole body ache. 

You want to fill the silence, distract yourself from the heavy feeling. You want to mess with them, annoy them, make them even more jealous and angry and hurt than they’ve already seemed to have been tonight. 

“Trust me,” you say finally, “I’ve had lots of experience since you last saw me.” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, trying to joke around with them as if it’s no big deal. 

You see their jaws clench. Eddie fights the urge to scoff at you, to roll his eyes, to scream in your face. Steve is a little better at hiding his distaste at what you’re insinuating. Both knowing they have no right to feel as hurt and betrayed as they do right now. 

You’re not theirs. 

“Well, they must be some lucky guys then.” Eddie tries to speak sincerely. It comes out like venom. 

“Hmm,” you hum, revelling in their reactions. Trying to think of what else you can say to rile them up like this. “And girls,” you say with a wink. 

Lies, it’s all lies. 

You had drunkenly kissed one girl out the back of a club after too many drinks. She was nice and soft and tasted like vodka and raspberries. But that was it… just a kiss. 

The furthest you’d gotten with your current boyfriend was some grinding and heavy touches. Always stopping before it got too far. He was always respectful of that, something you appreciated. 

They look at you stunned. You could see their brains working a mile a minute. You could tell they were imagining something much more lewd than reality. Victory. 

Desperate for this conversation to be over before they pried and realised you were talking all of your experiences up to be something much more, you stomp out your cigarette. Giving them a small smile that said ‘are we done here?’ as you started to walk away. 

Before you can get too far you feel a hand desperately grasp your arm. You know it’s Steve before you even turn around. 

You see his mouth open as he struggles to find the right words to say but you don’t want to hear it. You can’t. 

“Don’t,” you interrupt, before he can even say a single word. His mouth closes as his hand reluctantly lets go of your arm, brushing the skin of your forearm as he drops his hand. You curse your body for the goosebumps that appear along the trail of his fingertips. 

You’re about to turn around again when you decide to ask them just one thing. Something that’s been weighing heavy on you since you first saw them at the bar. 

“So, um,” you start tentatively, rubbing your hand over the arm that Steve had just touched, unsure if you’re trying to warm yourself up or wipe away the memory of his fingertips, “how long have you been dating?” 

They share a look before Eddie slowly mumbles, “a little over a year.” 

A little over a year. 

The same amount of time since your fight. The guilty looks on their faces let you know it was very shortly after they broke your heart. So while you were alone, completely breaking and having to put yourself back together again all by yourself, they were just having the time of their lives? Starting a new and exciting relationship? Typical. 

“Of course you have been,” you scoff. Turning abruptly and stalking away from them as fast as your stupidly uncomfortable heels would let you. 

“Y/n wait! It’s not like tha–“ Steve calls after you, desperately trying to catch you before you run off once again. Like he’s worried this time you’ll be gone for good.

“Just leave me alone!” You practically yell. You feel bad for raising your voice and how it makes them flinch but finally, they let you go. 

*****

Taglist: @pxrxcxa @eddiemunsonfuxks @translatemunson @bandofoxxking @munsonsbaby @corrodedhawkins @chainsawmunson @divinelyruled @parkermunson @bimbobaggins69 @eddiemunsonspantschain @hammity-hammer

*******

*******

[lqveharrington]

hi! Congrats on reaching 2k! Can I request a Vox x Reader with the song “The tortured poets department”?

TTPD | V.

summary: You were working on a script for Valentino when Vox decided it was the perfect time to bitch about Alastor leaving them.

pairing: vox x demon!reader

includes: angst, cursing, fighting, anger issues, reader is alastor's sibling, talk about suicide, manipulation

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i wrote for him (rules for celebration here!)

From the minute you met Vox, you knew he was an enigma. He was the embodiment of an egotistical, charismatic, and manipulative demon. The way he found a way to bitch about a new intern yet still make love to you every other night had your head spinning. It was like he was always in self-destruct mode and it was all because of your stupid brother.

You didn't think Alastor would betray Vox with just the snap of his fingers, but he disappeared faster than you realized what was happening. Vox was ready to kill every demon that presented themselves to him, but you were able to calm him down enough. You just didn't know how much longer you could stay with how fast his mood swings happened.

"Doll, what are you doing?" Vox appeared by your side and peppered kisses to the back of your neck, eyes darting toward the typewriter you were currently fixated on. His eyes flashed to swirls at the old piece of technology.

He knew you loved using the typewriter, you've known what it was since you were well and alive. But that specific typewriter wasn't yours. It was your brother's. Every time you used it, Vox's anger and temper and absolute hatred for your brother doubled. How could you so blatantly use that typewriter when he had the best laptops in all of hell?

"I'm typing up a script for Val's newest film idea." You murmur and start a new line, the typewriter making a small noise in the process. "He said that his actors have been slacking a need an actual script to follow."

"Uh-huh." Vox's claws found its way down to your shoulder, gently squeezing like a silent threat. He watched you slowly stop writing and snapped your fingers to hide the typewriter once more.

You turn and meet his eyes, finding them burning with annoyance. Furrowing your brows, you stand and walk over to the bar in the penthouse, pouring yourself a whiskey. Vox followed your movements, the electricity from his fingers intensifying with every silent minute that passed.

"What?" You scowl and felt your own eyes flash red. "I am bothering you by being in your presence?"

Vox glared at you and made quick strides to your, hand grasping your jaw and tilting it up to meet his eyes properly. "Are you trying to piss me off today?"

"Is it working, your highness?" You spit out and gasp when he throws the glass cup to the wall, the pieces shattering and scattering across the ground. "What the hell is your problem today?"

You looked between his eyes before he pushed you into the granite counter, his lips meeting yours in urgency. He kicked your legs apartment and slotted a leg in between, chuckling into the kiss when you adjusted your hips.

You couldn't tell how long you were there for, but by the time you were done, the clock read an entirely different time. You meet his crazed eyes as you adjust your clothing, biting your bottom lip. This was all too familiar to you, but something felt wrong. It felt like he did something wrong and tried to justify the action by making you forget.

"You're driving me crazy." You whisper and push him off of you, rubbing the palms of your hands into your eyes. "I don't get it."

He squinted at you and crossed his arms, knowing you were about to go on a whole tangent about how he needs to be reprimanded and kept in line despite him being an overlord. Every time you reminded him about it, it felt like pounding nails into his head over and over again. You treated him like dog that needed to be kept in line.

To you, it felt like your already dead heart was going to explode. All he did was complain and complain until he was able to get it out of his system by using you. It was like torture. You had to hold him and get his emotions in check by practically decoding him, allowing him to blow his fuse until he fully reset.

"Am I missing something? Or are you just using me as an outlet because Alastor left?" You whisper out and spin the ring around your middle finger. Vox had gotten you that ring when you first began dating, promising that you were going to be his forever. But you never felt that ring move across to the one that truly promised forever.

"That demon is the fucking worst and you know it." Vox hissed and adjusted his cuffs, finding them more interesting than your broken state. "He caused nothing but—“

"He's my brother, Vox!" You argued with him and snapped your fingers, images of you and Alastor together appearing around the room. "And you know damn well that he was your best friend."

Images of Vox and Alastor began to appear as well, causing the him to glitch. This was the first time you've pulled up pictures of Alastor during an argument of yours. Vox intended to get rid of all of all pictures of Alastor in the tower, but of course you figured out a way to make them appear.

Images from decades ago flashed across the room, Vox’s eyes twitching in annoyance. The colors swirling as if he was ready to manipulate you, but you were quick to snap on your blue-light glasses.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You shout as the items around you began to float from the energy being emitted from your anger. After all your years of knowing the power-hungry demon, he never tried to hypnotize you.

Vox's stare became daggers and he grabbed your wrist, the images disappearing within seconds. "You're the one who always wants to treat me like a fucking animal. Like I might go wild if you don't keep me in check."

"Because you will." You breathe out and glare at the screen above you. "You lash out at every sinner you encounter because you feel the need to. I get it, your an overlord. But this isn't a fucking porno Val wrote, it's real."

He looked between your eyes and held his stare, grip tightening around your wrist. Vox squinted at you as if you were going to back down but you weren't. You wanted to laugh in his face and complain about every single thing he ruined in your afterlife. Starting with how he reduced you from such a powerful being to a pretty doll that did all of the Vees bidding.

"You told Val and Vel that if I ever left you like my brother did, you would double kill yourself." You pull his hand off of you and step back, watching red lines appear across his screen. "Do you know how crazy that is? We're tortured, Vox. Like a song written about fucking idiots."

"Who else is supposed to understand me?" He waves his hand in the air, the lights in the room flickering in chaos. "He left you too."

Your face fell. You knew Alastor left you. You knew that. But hearing it from someone changed the trajectory of how you viewed his absence. He had left you to deal with the rest of his shit — the rest of his baggage. He left you with no note, no goodbye. Just an empty room in the tower. And for the past couple of years, left you with a shitty fling that would take his anger out on you.

"Fuck you." You spat out and slammed the door to your shared flat, the items rattling before settling.

Vox watched the door for a good second before throwing another glass cup, glaring at the typewriter you left sitting on the counter. Just like your brother, you left the typewriter. The stupid, fucking typewriter.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[igotanidea]

Backyard : Jason Todd x stripper!reader

The plan was simple.

Get inside the strip club, gather some intel on the newest and yet already one of the most influential crime lord in Gotham and get the f out.

The last part got a bit more complicated, when Jason figured out that on this particular day, in this particular club a bachelor’s party was taking place.

Shit was not enough of a word to describe the situation he found himself in.

Should have gone dressed in his Red Hood gear instead of civilian mode.

Should have never let Dick accompany him.

Two hot guys in the club full of horny men and girl strippers trying to lead a mission.

One dying inside, the other going with the flow.

What could possibly go wrong, right?

Well while Dick was having the time of his life, Jason actually tried to focus on the task and uncovering the identity of the guy who was recently raging terror on Gotham. Tried being the key word here. Instead of pursuing the wild game he found himself being a prey rather than a hunter. A bunch of unknown girls tried to grope him, seduce him, damn, even give him a lap dance, all that making Jason’s hair stand on his head as he struggled to reach the back door and break free.

What was a torture to him, seemed to be a lot of fun to his adopted brother though.

And what was even worse, was the fact that Dick, with his charming smile and  ladies-swooning attitude, would probably end up knowing more than him and it made Jason grit his teeth and clench his fists.

“You look like you need  a smoke.”

“What I need is five minute alone”

“Well I’m sorry to break it to you pea brain, but this-” the girl, who judged by the outfit was another stripper, waved her hand around the backyard of the club “-is as close to alone as you can get here.”

Right.

As if the couple making out against a wall, going way to close to public sex, a homeless man sleeping next to the dumpster and a few shabby wild cats, tearing with their teeth something that was definitely not suitable for eating, even by animals, could be described with that word.

Jason sighed half in frustration, half in relief.

“Fuck.”

“Mhm. Yeah, close enough.” the girl agreed as her eyes landed on the man who was now drilling the woman against the wall, apparently causing her enough pleasure to let out a breathless moans.

“You’re enjoying exhibitionism?” Jason raised an eyebrow at girl’s unamused gaze.

“I’m learning new techniques.” She spit out.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, pea brain.”

“Hey!”

“What? If you believed it, you truly deserve the nickname. I’m a stripper not a prostitute.”

“Is she one?” Jason pointed towards the other woman and reached to his pocket in search of a lighter and cigarettes “Fuck!’

“Nah, she’s just faking for the hell of it. Touch starved one, if you ask my opinion. Would settle for what she can get at a club like this. ”

“Do you have a fag?” Jason couldn’t care less about the answer, more focused on getting his own high and calming nerves, that was something he needed at the moment.

“I’m not sharing with a stranger.” She chuckled “seems way too intimate to me.”

“So what, you only give the guy a pipe on a third date?”

“No one got that far.”

“So you’re a stripper with a high standards?” Jason smirked

“Well. As the movies show, there are only three reason of why a girl is a stripper.”

“Don’t tell me you are a sucker for Pretty woman or another bullshit like this.”

“Nah. I’m just a working girl who has to raise a three year old illegitimate child and has no real qualifications for other job.” She send him an innocent feigned smile and tossed a pack of cigarettes his way.

“Three year old kid huh?” he caught it mid-air and lighted one up immediately exhaling deeply, when the familiar scent and flavour of nicotine filled his lungs “How old are you?”

“Rude.” She leaned on the railing “And you only proving my point.”

“Which is?”

“Pea brain.”

“Made you believe I believed that bullshit story, didn’t I?” another  cloud of smoke flew into the air, quickly joined by the other once the girl started to enjoy her own cigarette.

“Congratulations. A guy from a good house just tricked a stripper in the club. Great job, buddy.”

“What makes you think I am a guy from a good house? Maybe I’m a pervert who –“ he stopped for  a second as the sound of woman and man coming chimed into the sentence “maybe I’m a guy like this?”

The unnamed girl only smiled and shook her head causing her hair to flow around her face.

“If you were a guy like that you would just stay inside letting Candy or Chastity give you a lap dance.”

“Are those real names?”

“Pea brain.”

“Right. Sorry.” Jason chuckled involuntarily, much to his own disbelief. “What’s yours then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Pretty much why I asked.”

“Pretty much why you run away from the inside and found yourself here.”

“How do you even get clients? You’re insufferable.”

“And I got big mouth. Comes in handy sometimes.”

Before he could stop himself he chuckled again.

Jason Peter Todd, Red Hood, adopted son of Bruce Wayne was smoking outside the strip club, with a working girl, having more fun than he ever had in his entire life.

“It’s not comedy central, stop laughing.”

“You could be a stand upper for sure.”

“Well – if you think about it, I am kind of a stand upper…”

This time Jason fully laughed and the girl couldn’t help a tiny smile on her own face.

“Jerk.” She threw his direction biting on the inside of her cheek, focusing on the cigarette rather than on the guy next to her.

“Bitch.” Jason’s reaction was immediate and completely instinctive.

Any other girl would probably take that as an offence but she was familiar with the fandom and popculture classic.

“What demon are you after, Winchester?”

“Too many of my own to go looking for more.” He sighed

“Yeah tell me about it.” She did the same and for a moment they just stood in undisturbed silence. Even the cats seemed to sense something was going on and went completely quiet.

“What’s your name?” Jason finally asked “for real, not the stripper one and not the fake one you’re probably thinking about giving me.”

“You first.”

“Oh no. I’m a gentleman. Ladies comes first.”

“Idiot.”

“Moose.”

“Stop it!” she laughed at another TV series reference

“Tell me your name.”

“Yy/n” she said finally “Happy now?”

“Rapturous.”

“Splendid. You owe me  a cigarette, now you know what girl to give it back to.”

“Sounds like you’re asking me on a second date.”

Before she got a chance to come up with some quick respond, another working girl came out the club clearly searching for y/n, giving her just one warning look before her eyes travelled to Jason and then back to y/n.

“Fine!” Y/N rolled her eyes in frustration “god damn it, there’s something like a break for fuck’s sake! What the hell is happening now? I swear one day I will burn this hell hole -” the rest of the sentence died behind the door along with the walking away girl.

Jason was finally left alone.

Truly alone.

But it felt oddly dissatisfying to smoke by himself in the dingy backyard, that suddenly became grey and empty.

Y/N.

A girl who seemed to have all the answers.

Infuriating and keeping a man on his toes since the first minute from the meeting.

And who called him pea brain.

Jason smirked to himself, while still smoking the borrowed cigarette in the empty backyard of the strip club.

Letting himself forget the mission for a moment.

don't worry people we'll get "there" ...

[mossyscavern]

How in Primus?!

: the Decepticon edition

_______________

‘Another earthday, another plan of operations.’

Megatron thought, a bit bored while taking a sip of his energon, along with reading some medical data journals to brush up on his knowledge of medical science, new, old and extended to other species.

A long and very tiring day, to be honest. ‘… hm.. a cold..? Humans get freezing joints too or is it different symptom-.’ He stopped and listened, hearing hurried ped steps coming this way.

‘Here we go again, what poor spark learnt this time…’ He thought, putting his stuff down and opened the door, waiting for whoever found out about-. “THAT AUTOBOT SCOUT IS YOUR HEIR?!!??!”

‘Ah… another of our new additions.’ He thought, sighing tiredly as he felt a helmache start to form. “Let me guess, no one told you?” Megatron asked. “No! Of course no one told me! I-”

Megatron holds his hand up, silencing the stunticon. “You’re not the first to ask that.” He told the bot, standing from his battle chair.

“Yes, he is an autobot, no he wasn’t always an autobot, yes I let my heir go join the autobot fraction because I’m a parental unit and I’m not going to force my heir to be something he doesn’t want to be. Any questions?”

The warlord asks, staring down at the nervous bot. “Uh… actually yes, I do. How come the leader of the autobots trust your heir so much? And further more… how come he’s still on the autobots side? Did they… not know?”

The stunticon asks. “… those are very good questions breakdown.” Megatron’s says, turning on the computer, before showing two old data photos on the screen.

One shows both bumblebee and megatron smiling in the data-picture outside of Iacon, the other shows bumblebee with Optimus, both waving while bee points to the autobot insignia. “… the prime is your conjux?”

“Wha-? No, he became the prime’s best scout.” Megatron answers, turning back to the screen. “The second data picture is sent to me from bumblebee when I received news that he completed his training, Optimus knows bumblebee’s my youngling.”

He explains, given how confused the bot became. “Huh… what’s a youngling?” Breakdown asked, megatron turns to the stunticon, bewildered. “Seriously?! How can you not-… right.” He facepalmed.

“A youngling is an earth equivalent of a kid, didn’t matter if your older now, while a ‘baby’ is called a sparkling.” He told the nervously clueless bot.

“Oh… so that’s why they kept saying ‘don’t harm megatron’s youngling’ that makes sense.” Megatron’s optic twitched. “How’d you make it out of training?”

“… we had… training?” Megatron facepalmed, his servo covering his eyes so he doesn’t look at the bot in question. “Gather the other stunticon’s…” he says, smiling angrily through his denta.

“And very quickly get TO THE TRAINING ROOMS IMMEDIATELY BEFORE I BLAST YOU LOT OUT OF ORBIT!!!!” Breakdown ran out of the room, with immense fear of his life.

Megatron vents heavily, having to use most of his anger, but also most of his energy to not shoot the stunticon. He sighs, digits pinching his nose bridge in frustration. “Megatron, is everything alright?”

He heard shockwave ask, curiosity and worry wavers in the scientific bot’s voicebox. The warframe sighs, shook his helm before looking up to the scientist bot.

“… I just had to be jealous of the autobots vehicle modes, that was stupid.”

“Illogical statement… but looking at it now? That was an illogical plan.”

Megatron nods in agreement. Looking back at his data-photos of bumblebee, all his seething anger, frustration and disappointment melt away.

… well, most of it anyways. But he’ll be fine, after all.

He’s still has his sweet sparkling.

_______________

*sighs* I love writing these.

decepticons version of this -> (how in primus autobots edition) I could’ve used one of the insecticons for this… but then I remembered that stunticon’s were made from human cars that rumble stole gta style.

Plus I’m guessing it’s universal that decepticons from earth and are earth made never knew a thing about megatron having an heir.

Sooo ever since bee’s run in with devastator, the constructicons got a heavy amount of death threats from papa/mama bear megatron. Thus the training program.

[elliecore4eva]

"A Jurassic-Sized Surprise"

The garage was packed. Jesse leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, shooting you a knowing smirk. Dina sat on an overturned crate, legs swinging, while Tommy, Maria, Joel, and even Bill and Frank stood in a semi-circle, all waiting for you to speak. You adjusted your glasses dramatically—ones you didn’t need, but they made you look more official—and held up your clipboard.

“Alright, people,” you started, pacing like you were briefing them for a military operation. “We have exactly one week until Ellie’s birthday, and I am not about to half-ass this. We’re going full force. Full fiancé energy. This will be an event.”

Joel sighed. “Jesus, kid, just tell us what we’re doing.”

You grinned, flipping the clipboard dramatically. “Dinosaur. And. Space. Exhibit.”

There was a pause before Jesse let out a low whistle. “Damn. You really do love her, huh?”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Obviously.”

Dina clapped her hands together. “Okay, lovebird, how are we making this happen?”

You pointed at her, eyes gleaming. “I’m glad you asked! Here’s the plan.”

Over the next hour, you laid it all out—how they’d set up the surprise, the excuse they’d use to get Ellie there, and, most importantly, the role each person had to play.

Step One: Get Ellie out of the house for a few hours. Step Two: Convince her she’s just going on a walk. Step Three: Get her to the exhibit without her figuring it out. Step Four: Watch her adorable dino-nerd heart melt.

Easy. Right?

The Walk of Suspicion

Ellie, true to form, was immediately suspicious.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said, walking beside you, hands shoved in her pockets. “Jesse, of all people, sprained his ankle, again, and now I have to go get some special wrap for it?”

“Yep,” you replied, keeping your voice light.

She gave you a slow, knowing look. “And he sent you—not Dina, not Maria—you to take me?”

You nodded, still keeping your expression neutral. “Yep.”

Ellie hummed, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. “And it just so happens to be my birthday?”

“Mhm.”

“Uh-huh.”

You kept walking, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning. Ellie was so onto you.

“I swear,” she continued, her voice teasing, “if this is some elaborate prank where Jesse jumps out and dumps a bucket of water on me, I’m gonna—”

You gasped, clutching your chest. “Babe. Would I ever do something like that to you?”

Ellie deadpanned. “Yes. Absolutely.”

You dramatically wiped away a fake tear. “You wound me.”

She chuckled, bumping her shoulder against yours. “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

You shrugged, looping your arm through hers and squeezing gently. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes, but her lips twitched up. “Fine. But if I get ambushed, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

The Big Reveal

The walk finally led you both to a clearing where the entrance to the exhibit stood, dimly lit under the evening sky. The entire town had helped set it up—hand-painted dinosaur cutouts, strings of lights, and even a section dedicated to space, with old books and illustrations from before the outbreak.

Ellie’s steps slowed as she took it all in, her mouth slightly open in shock.

You leaned in close, lowering your voice just for her.

“Happy birthday, Bear,” you murmured, the new nickname slipping effortlessly from your lips. “Do you like it?”

Ellie turned to you, her expression unreadable for half a second before she grabbed you by the collar and kissed you.

It was the kind of kiss that made your toes curl, that left your fingers gripping onto her jacket like she was the only thing keeping you upright. When she finally pulled away, you were breathless, blinking up at her with dazed eyes.

“I take it that’s a yes?” you teased, grinning.

Ellie chuckled, resting her forehead against yours. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”

Nerd Mode: Activated

The moment Ellie fully processed what was happening, she lit up.

“Oh my god—babe, look at this!” She ran over to a massive replica of a raptor skull, her eyes wide as she traced the shape with her fingers. “Did you know that raptors weren’t actually as big as they show in the movies? They were more like—”

“Chicken-sized, yeah,” Jesse cut in, grinning. “We’ve all heard you rant about this before, dude.”

Ellie flipped him off without looking back.

Joel, watching with his arms crossed, huffed out a laugh. “She’s like a kid in a candy store.”

You beamed. “That’s the point.”

Ellie dragged you to every single part of the exhibit, rattling off facts about dinosaur evolution, asteroids, black holes—things you didn’t fully understand, but god, you loved watching her talk about them.

At one point, she grabbed your hands and pulled you toward the planetarium section, where old constellations were mapped out in the dirt with tiny lights.

“This is Cassiopeia,” she murmured, pointing up at the sky. “It’s one of my favorites.”

You looked up at the stars, then back at her. “You’re my favorite.”

Ellie groaned, shoving her face into your shoulder. “God, you’re so mushy.”

“You love it.”

“…I do.”

Admiration from Afar

As you chatted with Jesse and Dina near a display of ancient artifacts, Ellie stood a few feet away, her gaze fixed on you. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched you laugh, your eyes sparkling with joy. She whispered to herself, barely audible, “God, I love her so much.”

Bill, who had been standing nearby, overheard and nudged Frank. “Did you hear that?”

Frank smirked. “Oh, we heard it alright.”

Bill grinned. “You know, it’s a good thing you’re already engaged. Otherwise, I’d think that was a confession.”

Frank chuckled, elbowing Bill. “I’m just saying, Ellie’s in love. She can barely keep it together.”

Ellie, realizing she’d been caught, flushed a deep red. “Shut up, both of you.”

Bill laughed. “You whispered it. Right in front of us. She’s got you wrapped around her finger, kid.”

Frank teased, “Guess she’s really the one, huh?”

Ellie groaned, trying to hide her face in her hands. “I hate you both.”

You, catching wind of their teasing, turned around with a grin. “What’s this? Ellie having a hard time admitting she’s crazy about me?”

Ellie swatted at you playfully. “Stop it.”

“You know they heard you, right?” Dina said, laughing from across the room.

Ellie’s face went pink as she mumbled something under her breath, clearly embarrassed despite the fact she’d just told the whole town how much she loved you.

Bonfire & Love

The bonfire crackled warmly in the night air, the glow illuminating the faces of everyone gathered around. Jesse and Dina were sitting on a log, passing around some kind of homemade cocktail. Tommy and Maria were off talking by the grill, probably trying to make sense of Joel's latest rambling about "the old world." Ellie, as usual, was sticking close to you, her hand resting comfortably on your knee, but her eyes were darting around suspiciously, like she was waiting for something to go wrong.

“What?” you asked, noticing her fidgeting. “You seem... tense.”

Ellie shrugged, trying to play it off. “Nothing, just... tired, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” you grinned. “That what you call it when you're trying to act normal after gushing over me for the last half hour?”

Ellie immediately turned a shade of pink that could rival a cherry. She shot you a warning look. “Don’t start, okay? They’ll never let it go.”

“Too late,” you said, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You love me, admit it.”

She blushed harder, and at that moment, Bill and Frank, who had been hovering near the firepit with drinks in hand, overheard and shared a glance.

“Did you hear that?” Bill asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

Frank raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, we heard it. Ellie’s been absolutely smitten.”

Ellie groaned, her head dropping into her hands. “God, I hate you both so much.”

Frank smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “I mean, how could you not? She’s basically the human embodiment of sunshine.” He gestured at you, and then to Ellie. “You two are like that cheesy movie where the nerdy girl falls for the jock.”

Bill cackled. “Yeah, and Ellie’s the jock who can’t admit she’s been caught in the act.”

You grinned, leaning in to whisper just loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Ellie whispered earlier that she loved me so much.”

Ellie shot up, covering her face with her hands. “Okay, that’s it! I’m leaving. I’m done.”

Bill was practically wheezing with laughter. “Oh no, you’re staying right here. Can’t go anywhere now, sweetheart.”

Frank raised his cup in mock salute. “To Ellie, everyone! The tough girl who can’t hide her soft spot for her sunshine.”

Ellie buried her face in her hands, a muffled “Stop” escaping from her as she squirmed in her seat. Meanwhile, you just sat back, grinning like the cat who got the cream.

“You should’ve heard her,” Frank continued, nudging Bill. “She was all ‘god, I love her so much.’ You’re telling me you didn’t hear that?”

Ellie looked like she might combust from embarrassment. “I said that in confidence!”

Maria, who had been listening from a distance, couldn’t resist joining in. “You know,” she said with a grin, “you’ve got a whole town here who’s ready to gossip about how whipped you are.”

Ellie groaned, throwing herself back dramatically against the log. “You’re all terrible people.”

Joel, who had been quietly chuckling to himself, added, “I’m just glad she finally admitted it. Took long enough.”

“Shut up, Dad!” Ellie grumbled, still not looking at anyone.

But you couldn’t resist. You leaned in and kissed her cheek, whispering, “I love you too, Bear.”

The whole group let out a collective, exaggerated “Awwww”—even Jesse, who had been quietly sipping his drink, looked like he was about to burst out in laughter.

Ellie was now bright red, clearly trying to look anywhere but at the crowd of people enjoying her very public meltdown.

“You know,” Bill mused, taking a long swig of his drink, “I never thought I’d live to see the day when Ellie Williams turned into a walking romance novel.”

Frank nodded sagely, grinning. “She’s like that secret softie who just needed the right person to... you know, turn her into a sap.”

Ellie groaned loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I swear to god, if I hear one more thing—”

But before she could finish, you slid closer to her, resting your head on her shoulder. “Oh, come on. You love it when they tease you,” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.

Ellie exhaled sharply, but when she glanced at you, her gaze softened. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Bunny.”

You grinned, giving her a teasing kiss on the cheek. “Oh, I know.”

Frank leaned in from the other side, pretending to act serious. “We’ve all seen it now. Ellie’s whipped. I mean, how many times do we have to hear her say she loves you today before we start counting?”

Ellie shot a death glare his way, but even Bill couldn’t hold it in anymore. He started laughing, slapping his knee. “I can’t breathe.”

Ellie finally gave up, leaning her head against yours with a soft sigh. “I hate all of you,” she muttered, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Maria chimed in with a sly smile, “Just admit it, Ellie. You’re not fooling anyone. You’re absolutely crazy about her.”

Ellie looked up at you, meeting your gaze for a moment before shaking her head with a fond, exasperated smile. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “I am. And I’m not even sorry about it.”

The group erupted into teasing cheers, and Ellie just buried her face in your neck, mumbling something about never living this down.

But despite all the teasing and the embarrassment, you could see the softness in her eyes—she was just as in love as you were.

And as the flames of the bonfire flickered around you, you both knew this night would go down as one of those perfect memories that would stick with you forever.

[chelledoggo]

silly concept i thought of for Pomni (that connects to my "drawing/writing characters meditating" special interest lol)

so we know how Pomni's whole thing is that she has a "funny cartoon body." like she has rubberhose arms, can do wild takes, her face changes colors when she holds her breath... all those sorts of classic "cartoon physics" tropes.

i like to think that if she enters a meditative state, she'll levitate a few feet in the air in a lotus position (think like Shirley from Tiny Toons), and she'll temporarily adopt this alternate "zen master" personality.

like she'll speak in a soft, whispery voice, with more formal speech patterns. she'll start using "spiritual" vernacular and dispense words of wisdom, almost as if she's suddenly being possessed by the spirit of a Buddhist monk. (figuratively speaking. i don't want her actually getting possessed again ;~;)

(this is old art but it basically illustrates what i'm getting at)

but then once it's over and Pomni returns to normal consciousness, she'll remember everything she said and instantly start feeling super embarrassed about it.

like i had this whole scenario in my head where Ragatha is teaching Pomni meditation to help her relax, and that's when she realizes she has this ability for the first time.

Ragatha: "huh... i guess when you enter a meditative state, you start levitating! we're learning new things about you every day, Pomni!" Pomni: [in "zen master" mode] "ahhhh... yes, Friend Ragatha... i have achieved total lightness of being... mentally, physically, and spiritually... for the first time since i've been here, i am truly at peace... ohhhhhmmmmmm..." [Jax walks up and spins Pomni around in midair, causing her to break out of the trance and fall to the floor (and then throw up)] Jax: "up and at 'em, ladies. Caine's got a dumb new adventure for us." Pomni: [back to her normal self] "ughhhh... d-did i really say all that cringe new-age crap just now?" Ragatha: [grinning] "hey, now! it wasn't 'cringe!' it was nice to see you calm for once!"

...also maybe in a later adventure she has to go "zen mode" to levitate herself out of a deep pit or something.

idk i'm just having silly thoughts lol.

[silverryuan]

Lookism with a Paper Star reader

Paper Star is one of the antagonists in the Netflix series Carmen Sandiego. She is works as an operative from VILE and is Professor Maelstrom's favorite student. She uses origami paper as a form of weapon when fighting against Carmen.

�� I'm gonna name them Tammy Origami here since I think the alias is fitting. You are definitely from Daniel's old school and transfered to Jaewon High just like him. His first impression of you is pretty vague. He always sees you skipping your way to class and humming a creepy tune as if your reputation isn't scary already.

• While he never encountered you directly, he heard rumors of you from his bullies and Logan Lee himself. The tattooed fat man seems to be afraid of you for some reason Daniel didn't know until you transferred.

• You actually transferred to Jaewon High because your work is closer in the city. The students from your department actually find your aesthetic great but not when it comes with an intimidating aura. The first person that got a taste of your origami art was Vin Jin.

• He encountered you one day, thinking you were some kind of push over because of your quiet behavior, however his attempts of intimidation didn't put you off one bit. Vin got mad at how unresponsive you are and decided to punch you, but you beat him to it. Not only did he fall back from your attacks, he also got robbed and received paper cuts from you. And that's when the rumor in Jaewon High started...

Random Student A: "Hey, did you hear? There's a creepy student on campus that does weird origami art-"

Random Student B: "Ugh, Girl, shut up. What's so special about a weirdo that does paper folding? It's not even a talent."

Random Student A: "Yeah, but this weirdo actually uses it as a form of fighting! They actually managed to scratch Vin Jin from the Vocal and Dance Department to the infirmary! And they only used another student's notes!"

Random Student B: "What? No way, girl, stop lying."

Random Student A: "It's true though!"

Zoe: "OMG! That's one scary guy, right Daniel?~"

Daniel: "H-huh? Um, yeah..."

Teacher: "All right guys, settle down now. Bring out your assignment from last week."

Random Student B: "WAIT WE HAD HOMEWORK?!"

The Entire Class: "....🤦🤦‍♀️🤦‍♂️, Seriously, this gossiping bitch...."

Zack, thinking: " Great. As if the new guy is already a problem, there's another one."

• Zack's impression of you... Not so great. You were just strolling around campus, turning to the corner of another hallway, and bumping into Mira who was carrying several books. Zack was there to helping her...

Mira: "Woah! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

Tammy: " Ugh.... It's fine. What are you doing with all that paper?"

Mira, picking up the books: " Oh, it's just textbooks for class. Sorry again, I should really look at where I'm going next time."

Tammy, helping her pick up the books: "... Oh, it's a shame~ these pages are made of high quality paper, you know?"

Mira: "...W-what's a shame?--"

Zack, also helping Mira: "Mira! I found the rest of the books! Let's head to the classro... Hey! Aren't you that weirdo everybody was talking about?"

Mira, hitting his shoulder: "Zack! Don't be rude! I'm sorry, he's just curious that's all."

Tammy: "... Okay, see you. La~ la~ la~"

• As you skipped past the couple, Zack was on his fighter mode the entire time. Mira scolded Zack on the way on how his rude attitude scared you off just because you were helping her. Sitting on their respective seats, Zack started to notice something... His wallet is missing! Did you pickpocket him?! Forget what Mira said, the next time he sees you, he'll beat you to a pulp!!

• Vasco most likely heard the rumors too. He's just sitting in the Architecture department, talking to Jace, he heard it from one of the Burn Knuckles member. He then asked if you were a bad guy and his eyes widen at how notorious you are for your creepiness and your ability to fold paper into a weapon. He made a reminder to himself that if he meets you someday, he'll ask you about your fighting technique.

• Jay's impression was through Daniel of course. He noticed how fidgety Daniel is whenever you make eye contact with him... Almost as if you know something about Daniel that Jay doesn't know.

• Daniel explained to Jay about how he met you in the hallway, folding small paper soldiers. Your humming stopped after noticing Daniel and suddenly you asked if he has extra paper. Daniel assumed you need more paper to make more soldiers and gave you a few of his note papers, complimenting on your expertise on your paper folding art. You didn't reply and just continued folding the given paper. Daniel just watched, unsettled after you folded his paper just to behead the tiny soldiers, giggling to yourself...

• He gets uncomfortable every time he recalled that memory of you. Jay also made a mental note to protect Daniel from you just in case.

[linkedspirit-fanartfunart]

Look out its a Linkblr Dashboard Simulator!

3 notes

🪶 redwingskies Follow

So who was gonna tell me the Surface is Real, huh? Who.

🎶 ocarina-macarina Follow

Where are you from?? What....what are you??? ....God?

🪶 redwingskies Follow

Nah turns out she's my best friend though.

🪶 redwingskies Follow

Hey btw, If I kill a god does that make me one? Is there like. Rules for this? Asking for a friend. (Like seriously. I don't care. He does.)

1,680 notes

🚋 train-life Follow

Today's Fact: Did you know Trains are the reason New Hyrule has Standardized Time Zones? As citizens needed to know when to get to a train station, the council lobbied for standardized time that could be applied precisely for travel by train! The entire modern perception of time is because of the Train!

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Thanks, I hate it. Lets go back to living by the sun rise and set.

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

??? We've always had standard time zones??? What are you talking about. Trains didn't invent that.

🚋 train-life Follow

...they literally did. I re-researched this to double check. What are YOU talking about?

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

Time zones? Like. The era of Legend, the Golden era, bullfish like that?

🚋 train-life Follow

... you can swear you know? I'm 12 not a baby.

🌊 kingoftheseagull Follow

you're HOW OLD? I thought you were a Royal Engineer???

🚋 train-life Follow

12? It's in my bio?

🌊 kingoftheseagull Follow

I love you but get the hell off of this website why are you here

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Can we go back to the weirdo who thinks Time Zones are HISTORICAL PERIODS?

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

Haha yea total weirdo, what, are they like 400 years old or something? Lol

🐴 goatman4life Follow

Actually I wanna get back to why a 12 year old has a job

1,203 notes

🐟 indigo-gos-official Follow

Hey anybody willing to lend me bail money? I'm short like 10 rupees and it's really annoying.

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Wait shit wrong account! Wrong account!!

🐴 goatman4life Follow

Why do you have access to a hyper-famous Zora Band's account??

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Their lead guitarist died in front of me and I am very nice. Now get me out of jail goatman.

23,045 notes

🌳 wildflowerwastaken Follow

.

#hi #i saw a cool bird today #the camera was left on selfie mode so it only got a picture of me squinting at it #the bird noticed the flash and it pecked me until I fell out of the tree #straight into a malice puddle #the bird was pretty tho #so I say my day went great!

2 notes

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Hey apparently I need to update people on my boundaries. So. Here is a list of what's okay:

Hugging

Kissing me

Kissing me directly on the lips

👀

Parasocial relationships where you praise me constantly <3

And this is NOT okay

Hunting me for my blood to revive the prince of darkness

Ignoring me

Thank you, that's really all, I'm kinda sad that this has to be said but clarity is wisdom and all.

👑 princess-of-hyrule Follow

Link. This is not what I told you to post.

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Well EXUSe ME if my boundaries look different than yours!!

25,690 notes

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

Hey pulled the Four Sword again so we need help figuring out who gets to run the blog lol.

Thanks everybody

⏳️ forestchild Follow

Lol this loser doesn't know how to make sideblogs

🎶 ocarina-macarina Follow

The poll says "Who gets to be Link on MAIN" though, so maybe they do? They just wanna have one person in charge of the first blog?

⏳️ forestchild Follow

The path to truth is unity. Many voices can be heard within one "main".

-The Diety

⏳️ forestchild Follow

...ignore him, I've made him a sideblog and he refuses to use it.

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

Hey wait no let him come back, he's the only smart person I've ever heard

-Green (?)

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

I am going to kill you.

#we have all agreed to not utilize this blog until the poll is complete #so shut up green

10 notes

[arachnoia]

mode ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | miguel o’hara

miguel o’hara x afab! reader

in which one of new york’s most famous models runs into an old acquaintance during a modeling gig.

had a lil drabble in mind so i wrote it!! thank you guys so so much for liking my last posts it means a lot!! tbh idk what this was but I was j writing. i’m open to write other characters but need ideas so pls drop some in my requests! formula 1 is also going to be continued v v soon!

thank you! 😪🙏🏼

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You’ve always had aspirations of becoming a model, being on a billboard along with many celebrities you admired.

The posing, the glamour, the attention.

It was a dream you’ve always had, having an insatiable hunger for it.

You drank your chai in peace as you were just finished your Pilates class. You had a photoshoot later on to model some new brand that hit social media and exploded in popularity. It could help both your public images.

“Good morning, N/n!” Jess said, giving you a hug from behind.

Jess is your roommate and has been your best friend since your freshman year in high school. The both of you bonded over American pop culture, fashion, and the immense difficulty of your freshman physics class.

She had your back when you forgot the formula for net force and when you were having emotional turmoil over your crush on Miguel O’Hara.

Everyone knew about your crush on him because who would have a crush on the physics math geek?

You.

He was scrawny, quiet, a nerd, and no one knew who he was. Until people found out you liked him, which was obvious because you would get caught staring at him from across the lunchroom multiple times.

The two of you were polar opposites socially.

You weren’t popular, to say the least, but it’s not like people didn’t know who you are. There were a decent amount of people who liked you in high school, but you only had your eye on him.

Like Jess, he was also in your physics class freshman year and caught your eye.

He’s the reason why you wanted to do modeling.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was junior year in your AP Lang class and you two were doing peer reviews for an essay.

You two were in a library near your high school. It was quiet until he just blurted out: “You should consider modeling, Y/n.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden compliment, “What?”

He just shrugged and pushed up his square glasses. “I’m just saying that you’d look nice on a cover of a magazine. You look the type.”

“O-Oh…Thanks?”

You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so awkward.

His face stayed as nonchalant as always, “Mhm.”

It was safe to say that there wasn’t a single word spoken after that.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Jess tied up her hair and stretched. “Do you need a ride? Isn’t the studio in Manhattan?”

You shook your head and sipped your chai, “Nope, it’s in Brooklyn. And it’s okay! I have some errands to run after the shoot if it won’t take long.”

“Alright, girl. What’s the guy’s name again? The guy that owns the brand.”

“I think his name's Gabriel?” You shrugged and took a bite out of your açaí bowl. Jess took a spoon and ate some too.

“Wow! You just take my breakfast huh?”

Jess giggled and ran back to her room, “Good luckkkk!”

You scoffed and smiled, “You bitch!”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You took the train to get to the studio and walked there.

It was a little apartment building that had some graffiti on the side of the wall. You liked how nice the graffiti was.

You went inside and knocked on the door for apartment 206.

You heard some clutter and a voice all of a sudden, “-Coming!”

The door opened to a young man, maybe in his 20s? Early 30s?

“Hi, my name is Gabriel! You’re Y/n Y/l/n? I’ve heard so much about you! You’re an amazing model. Your magazine shoot with Vogue was so nice!” he gushed.

His voice sounded really familiar but wasn’t at the same time.

“Oh thank you so much! Your brand is actually really nice! Thank you for reaching out! Can I come in?”

He rushed in and stood to the side of the door, “Of course! Come right in!”

The apartment was really nice and was a decent size. Not too big and small.

Some assistants were running around getting some clothes ready and preparing the violet backdrop with a silver desk that looked like something out of Star Wars.

You got into many different outfits which were really modern and motorsport-ish.

It reminded you of that futuristic streetwear style that’s growing these days, which was really fresh to see.

Gabriel popped in from the lounge area where you were already dressed to go home, “You did really good! Again thank you so much for coming! It’s going to do the brand so so well!”

You smiled and nodded, “Of course! It was nice meeting-“

You heard the door open and was interrupted by another voice, “Hey Gabri, you left your electronic watch at my place.”

Gabriel smiled and went over to claim his watch, punching the man in the arm, “Thanks Miggy!”

Your face twisted from a smile to a shocked expression.

“Oh! Y/n, meet my older brother, Miguel!” Gabriel said, pointing at his brother.

“Miggy, meet Y/n Y/l/n! She’s an awesome model who’s helping me promote my brand!”

He looked over to you and stared, “I’ve heard of who she is.”

You couldn’t help but have your jaw drop. Your eyes couldn’t believe it.

That scrawny, shy kid from high school was no more. He got replaced by a man with a body identical to a greek god’s, beautiful, luscious locks of chestnut hair, and gorgeous arms.

He still had his old square glasses which added charm to the rest of his outfit; a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants.

He made you feel like you were back in high school, crushing on him while he explained formulas to you.

“I said ‘hi’, Ms. Y/l/n,” he smiled, looking you up and down. You didn’t know if he was being judgmental or just observing.

“O-Oh! Hi!” You held at your hand to Miguel, who looked a slight bit amused and shook it.

“My brother here is a chemical engineer at this place, Alche-what?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and laughed, “Alchemax. And it’s nice to meet you, miss.”

Gabriel smiled and checked his phone due to it ringing loudly, “Shoot! I have to pick up some fabric I ordered. It’s the last one they have! Migs, please lock up! Good bye, Ms. Y/l/n!”

Gabriel ran out the studio and threw the keys at Miguel, who caught them quickly.

Miguel looked back at you and smiled sarcastically, “Y’know, it would’ve been nice if you weren’t eye fucking me in front of my own brother, Ms. Y/l/n.”

You felt shivers down your spine.

The way your last name rolled off his tongue was so sexy, especially with that slight accent he’s always had.

You tried to say something so you wouldn’t look like a complete idiot in front of your high school crush, “E-Excuse me…?“

“You heard me, Y/n.”

Oh fuck.

“I b-believe you’re mistaken. I would never do that in a professional setting with someone I work with.”

You mentally cheered yourself on. You weren’t sounding like an idiot anymore.

You don’t think.

He hummed and shrugged, “I didn’t think I would see you working with my brother, yet here we are. How’s life been?”

What the fuck?

How could he be so calm and asking ‘how’s life?’ after accusing you for eyefucking him.

He wasn’t wrong but it’s embarrassing.

“It’s fine. So you work at Alchemax?”

“Yeah. We’re working on something right now, but I can’t tell you.” He started chuckling and folded his arms

God, how much you loved that in high school.

Even then, he would make every single little thing so sexy.

In high school, he looked like he had never experienced a touch of a woman.

But now…

“Why not?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s top secret, nena.”

You looked at him from the side of your eye and he locked eyes with you.

You couldn’t deny the rough tension in the room.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of ruby red, accentuated thanks to the blinding glare of the studio lights still being on.

Then you locked your eyes to his lips. They were so full and beautiful and you wanted to kiss them.

He smiled at you and was going to pull back from his leaning position before you wrapped your arms around his neck and connected your lips to his.

You’ve been waiting since freshman year to kiss him. Who could blame you?

What you didn’t expect is for him to kiss you back, more rough and passionate.

You felt him smile a bit, making you kiss him even more.

It didn’t take long for you and Miguel to walk towards the desk, where he broke from the kiss and pushed you against the desk, ass facing him.

You were still in disbelief that you were making out with your high school crush so suddenly, making your heart pound.

You were wearing one of your favorite outfits; a black corset top and a white lace skirt you stole from Jess.

You felt him rub your ass before he spanked it under your skirt, hearing him growl a bit. “Fuck…”

He leaned towards to kiss your cheek, feeling his hard bulge from his sweatpants. “Let me make you feel good, cariño.”

Did you mention you loved it when he spoke in Spanish? You loved it when he spoke in general.

You turned around and sat on the desk as you took off your top and slid down your skirt, leaving you in your panties.

He looked at you up and down again, now with underlying lust and darkness in his eyes, “I’ve been waiting to do this since high school.”

He roughly took his shirt off and also slid down his pants, leaving you to gawk at his stunningly toned body.

“Like what you see? Careful, mi bélla, you have something aquí,” he smirked as he caressed your face.

He placed his hand on your hip and played with the string of your underwear before ripping it apart with his (abnormally?) long nails.

“That’s better,” he said as he pulled the piece of clothing off of you. He took off his boxers and as soon as he did that, you kneeled down and started rubbing on his length.

“Let me make you feel good first.” You started grazing your lips on it and kissed his swollen tip, already oozing with precum.

You put him inside your mouth and he started to gently thrust as you started to suck.

“Yeah baby, you feel so fucking good-"

You felt like gagging, taking him all, thick, long, and veiny.

It didn’t take long for him to ejaculate in your mouth, having you swallow and some of his cum spilling on the sides of your mouth.

“God, you look so sexy like this,” he whispered, brushing some of your hair away from your face. You smiled up at him as he bit his lip.

He sat you on top of the desk, legs wide open.

He started to play with your clit and inserted two fingers almost immediatly to your already wet core.

"M-Miguel...fuck."

You whimpered quietly as he started to fingerfuck you fastly.

He chuckled darkly, "If you can't handle my fingers, then I'd like to see you handle my cock."

You laughed dryly and cried out as he went even faster.

Right as you were going to come, he stopped.

"Why did you do that," you slurred, feeling high on the sexual tension.

"Don't worry, just wait."

He whispered as he kept teasing your poor clit and started to pump his dick.

"Shhhhh" he muttered as he started to insert himself inch by inch, “Estas haciendo bien, mi linda. AY DIOS-"

Your eyes widened at how much he stretched you out, and it was barely the tip. "Oh fuck, Miguel-"

"D-Don't worry, baby. You're doing good..."

You scratched at his back as you bounced again and again. "O-Oh my fucking god..."

You felt like you were in a porn movie with how loud your moans and how bright the studio lights were, accentuating every crease and muscle on Miguel’s hot body.

You couldn’t help but stare as he mindlessly rearranges your organs fucking you.

You started to hold on to his arms as he went at a violent pace.

“A-Alchemax must stress the living shit out of you, h-huh? F-FUCK!”

He smiled a bit as he went a little faster, “You can’t...imagine. Estos pinche- PUTA MADRÉ-"

You felt him twitch inside of you and release, filling you up to the brim as you released your high as well.

"Oh s-shit..."

You mumbled before covering your face, turning over to hide your face and just bent over.

He kissed your exhausted body on the desk, all sweaty and hot from your tiring activities from earlier.

As he dressed up again, he couldn’t help but stare at his masterpiece; having Y/n Y/l/n, one of New York’s most respected models, in such a slutted out position.

Bent over and trembling, filled up to the rim with his cum.

Although he was a chemical engineer at such a highly respected place such as Alchemax, he couldn't help but feel proud that he had you like this.

Just for him.

[drksanctuary]

I guess I’m just gonna be behind from now on. @titan-army-week

Part 5: Supplies

When Alabaster regains his el senses and gets them back to shore, he’s in survival mode once more. It’s uncanny how it kicks in automatically . He is suddenly 12 years old again, running from a monster and his dad…no. It’s not time to think about past failures… not when he had a brand new failure to-

“Alabaster?” Marina’s says, her small voice cutting into Alabaster’s despairing.

“Huh? Yes what is it Marina?”

“I’m hungry” she says, almost ashamed.

“Ah…well” Alabaster looks around to find a small convenience store with its neon open sign on and flickering. He pats his pocket. Of course he doesn’t have his wallet with him. Not like it has much money in it anyway.

He runs through the usual tricks in his head. Most require mist cards (which he doesn’t have) or illusions (which require . His last mist travel jump to get to the two of them to shore has him exhausted. Marina has magic to spare. But she’s mostly been practicing traps and protections spells.

He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration as he he thinks. His hand is sopping wet. At least the water washed away most of the blood on his face but it still hurt like a bitch.

“Right” Al says “it has to be in the middle fucking August didn’t doesn’t exactly look like we’re coming in from the rain”

Marina shivers. Al instinctively holds her and rubs her shoulder.

“Oh! You remember that trick we pulled on Dennis had the nerve to say we can’t do anything without magic?”

“Yeah…why?” Marina asks

“I have an idea”

***

Marina bursts into the store laughing loudly. She heads over to the candy section and starts picking out one of each thing. “I want this one! This one! Oooh and this one! And ooh this one??” She piles them on the counter and the cashier regards her, almost asking for money when Marina says

“Oh wait!” She dashes off to the chips aisle. “This and this and-“

Alabaster enters looking frantic. Marina ducks to hide.

“Jenny?” Alabaster whisper shouts “come on…mom’s gonna be pissed!”

Marina stays quiet .

“Jenny! It’s not hide and seek time!”

Marina moves slowly to the other side of the aisle as Al comes towards her.

“I’m not kidding! Let’s go!” Al says channeling all the impatient teenager energy he can muster.

Marina takes the chance and runs out of the store, hands full of chip bags .

The cashier who is a bit stuck behind the pile of candy and safety pane. Almost darts over but grabs the phone instead.

“Fuck! JENNY NO!” Al darts after her.

When they are on the outside in a place that had a wall obscuring the view, Marina chucks 2 bags of chips behind the trash can.

Alabaster gives her a thumbs up before he pretends grab her and drag her back in the store.

“I’m so so sorry” alabaster says “she stupid and hyper” he says as he dumps what must be 6 bags of chips onto the counter in top of the candy. He quickly grabs a Kit Kat bar off of the counter amongst the chaos of falling bags and pockets it.

“What do you say?” Al scolds

Marina pouts

“Jenny” Al admonishes.

“I’m sorry” she says

The cashier, who seems to have either bought the ruse or figured it wasn’t worth his trouble.

“It’s fine” he says

“Thank you” Al says “we’re leaving. NOW” he emphasizes and holds Marina by the wrist.

He pulls her along while she continues her role as pouty energetic brat.

They grab the two chip bags and head away, waiting until they’re a good distance away to partake.

Alabasters mind is already going to next steps. Finding a drachma might get them ability to Iris message. Luke had small safe havens throughout the area…maybe he’d find one of those?

“Alabaster?” Marina says mid Chip munch

“Hmm?”

“Is it ok…that…that was fun?”she says and look up at him with just the biggest brightest eyes and a wide grin.

His heart crunches like an empty tin can under a good stomp.

“Of course it is.” Alabaster says

“But…but everyone-“

“Everyone…no matter their state would just be glad you’re ok…bonus points if you are happy”

Marina chomps her chip pensively but nods. “I hope they’re ok.”

“Me too Marina” he pats her shoulder, holding her closer to keep her warm. “I really really…hope so”

[nat-the-octo]

man, Splatoon 3 is basically over, huh?

Everyone is doing their Splatoon stories rn, so I guess I’ll do mine I got Splatoon 2 with some Christmas money in New Years of 2020. My only previous knowledge of the series was a vague concept of the game when the first came out and watching old Failboat videos on it like Octo Expansion and photoshopping new weapons. I wasn’t really into video games as an interest (hyper fixation) until the pandemic, where my mom got a switch lite for the family to see the new animal crossing, and me later getting my own console for my birthday later in the year. All of which is to say: I didn’t know what I was getting into with Splatoon.

I sat down minutes after midnight (probably sleep deprived) and I was thrust into this colorful, creative, and diverse world where you’re constantly encouraged to stand out, make a difference, and live by your own rules. It’s difficult to explain why this game where people living how they want get to cover mundane gray cityscapes with color and life was so instantly appealing to me, but it struck a chord that sent me hurtling down a rabbit hole that would without exaggeration, change the course of my life.

I immediately played through the story mode, then played it 8 more times to collect every weapon, got my ass beat by Octo Expansion, cried during Into the Light, 100% Octo Expansion, and was lucky enough to be just in time for the real final splatfest of Splatoon 2. (I lost) This also boosted me to be able to actually experience and understand more video games as a whole, but that’s a different topic. This all led me to February 2021, (yes that all happened in 2 months) where me and my friend skipped online school to watch the direct on a playground in my neighborhood, and saw the reveal of Splatoon 3. From here, everything begins to speed up. I found my way onto Inkipedia, consumed all possible knowledge about this tiny trailer that was available, then consumed all info and lore about the current games, including characters, old splatfests, previous metas, splatband lore, and more. THAT led me to splatoon theories, (shoutout to rassicas), which later led me to splatoon fanon with theories and ships and ocs and suddenly it’s September 2022.

Ironically the section of time with Splatoon 3 might be the part I have the least to say about, mostly because it all feels so recent even today. I watched the trailers, read the twitter posts, thought Shiver was nonbinary, played the testfire, everything. Everything post launch feels so wonderful and great and everything I wanted from the game and more. I actually felt like I was apart of a community as I debated splatfest topics with my friends and complained about my weapons being nerfed. (I still get upset about the tenta missile nerf from like. a month after launch.)

I think this part of the story will hit a lot harder in a few years, when I experience my first actual content drought instead of joining at the end of one, but for now, I can just be satisfied by my memories and experiences with the series so far. This franchise has truly changed who I am today and will be in the future. I’m a completely different gender person now because of playing the game, and now I have my own little theories and ships and ocs that I haven’t put to page and all the things that made me start in the first place, and it feels like I’m truly part of a community for once.

idk how to end this so to whoever read this far, thank you, honestly. I hope we both get to live the lives we want in the future, no matter what life throws at us.

P.S. here’s a pic of my main OC for the first time, might do more stuff with her if i feel like it

[doktorblitz]

Creature commandos AU: reincarnated lovers ala Dracula

What if after the team settles into some sense of normality, with Bride as the leader, and back at ARGUS, someone unexpected comes into the Bride's radar. Basically I took the idea of Bram Stoker's Dracula with Oldman and thought, what if Victor or someone oddly similar, just gender flipped.

This is only a small AU I thought of after I watched the series, I have some minor ideas for it but not nearly as developed as another couple bigger AU's that I'm cooking up. But I figure Bride deserves some love, and if it happens to be someone quite similar to her first, why not.

So this is the first AU I ever dreamed up for the fandom after seeing the second episode, The Tourmaline necklace, and it's the least developed as a result.

The idea struck me because Bride would likely fall for someone as similar to her old flame as possible, and what if a random scientist dude working for Argus just happens to be quite similar.

Mostly chronological, I don't have the energy to write a full actual fic for now, but the main ideas and head canons for it are here.

- One day sometime after Nina's death and Bride getting that new prison wing, Waller comes in about an opportunity for her. Says a particular scientist was curious about studying her and her status as kinda undead. Of course initially B is like, why would I do that.

- While I could just have Waller send the Bride in person directly, I could see Amanda getting an advantage by watching the Bride's reaction to showing her the dude's file, because lo and behold, he looks so much like Vic. Amanda wouldn't even say it outright, she'd just keep an eye on B to see how much that affects her.

- Turns out the dude is very similar to Victor, from the very pretty grey eyes to the always shaved face to the brown-red ish slightly foppish hair and lean tall build. In other words he's a twinky snack, but more to the point he may as well be a carbon copy in some ways, which gives the Bride some invariably mixed feelings.

- B doesn't show all of those emotions outright, makes some kinda semi sarcastic comment "may as well see what he wants", but it's clear she's at least somewhat intrigued.

- For convenience let's call him Edward. Ed is very interested in her for 2 reasons. He wants to figure out how reanimation works, and he is interested in researching the mental states of consciousness between life and death (wink wink), such as comas, reanimation, coming back from being clinically dead several minutes etc, and what that does to the brain.

- She goes to see him and when she enters he's not facing her, cue her entering with a semi sarcastic "let's get this over with" comment, and him turning around and being instantly struck by the sheer presence of muscle mommy Bride in full jaded asshole mode. He definitely approves of her tall strong intimidating person, but tries to play it cool and professional. None the less I'd imagine he has an initial "huh damn" moment of adjusting his glasses reaction. 

- Turns out introducing them was a good idea, because he's as gentle as Victor ever was, as clear on always telling her what he's gonna do and giving her the space to say if anything bothers her. And he does research on her endurance, her brain functions, various other things of the sort, all the while marveling at how damn durable she is.

- For her part she finds him oddly comforting and might even end up talking to him outside of his little tests. I'd imagine initially he has to go through Waller to get her into his lab for every meeting, but then he starts being so pedantically techno-babble on why he's summoning her, that Waller's like "whatever fine go get her when you need her".

- Of course there is the elephant in the room, Bride falls for him hard, first physically and then emotionally, because he looks so much like her old lover, and he is not even aware at the time of this. And even once he does become involved with her, she never says it outright.

- In fact he might find out from checking her file and following the historical connections to the ol' Victor Frankenstein, where upon seeing a picture of the fella he's struck by the fact that they look so much alike. He puts 2 and 2 together eventually, that her initial crush is because he looks like Vic, but it never truly stops him from pursuing the relationship (hence my complicated relationships tag).

- There is of course a big physical attraction part of it at first, and it helps that he's not the usual typical cold blooded scientist in how he behaves and thinks, he's more of a renegade in some ways as she ruefully described Victor in the original show.

- Waller is of course aware at some point they were getting intimate, just as she was aware Flagg slept with the Princess, but just like in that situation she never actually says anything about it until it becomes either a problem or a weapon she can use.

- I would guess there might be some changes from how she was with Vic back in the 1800's, namely at the time he was the more experienced and more in charge, and now by contrast with Ed she is more in charge he's more the sub, if anything. He has no objections to that and if anything is quite fascinated by the tall muscle mommy that could crush him with a single hand. And she just finds that absolute blind trust fascinating.

- The rest probably notice she's a little less annoyed and angry at everything and Phosphorus might even be the one to needle her about it, "what's got you so satisfied all of a sudden", which she does not appreciate. Then again they are rather vitriolic best buds, so she'll probably give him some kinda asshole reply.

That's about as far as that AU went in my head, basically Bride finds herself for all intents and purposes another Victor, and how that would work out (probably poorly once Waller considers it a weapon).

Same as the other Bride/Vic ideas, don't hate and don't go all moralistic crusade on me, I've seen worse more weird power dynamics in tv shows/movies.

Feel free to use the idea if anyone likes it, just notify me.