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#chameleon nails
dees-nails · 1 year
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Shifty stamps, 2020
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stellar-collective · 2 months
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entering my Sonic era
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lunasohma · 6 months
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‘Chameleon Coat’ by Holo Taco
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zannia · 1 month
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Retro and her little friend Marvin
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suth-sardian · 2 years
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pspspspspsppspspspspspspspsp
@ykoriana-imperatrix
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cloakchameleon · 2 years
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Dumps my sketch dump of the morning in along with a WIP of my elf oc Aria u v u
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somegirlnails · 2 years
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heartnosekid · 15 days
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chameleon cat eye swirls nail art ✨ | nailartbyjen on ig
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hotvintagepoll · 1 month
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Propaganda
Jean Arthur (Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Easy Living, The Talk of the Town)—Always found the best facial expression and the perfect line delivery, so nailed the transition from silent film to talkies (her voice is CRAZY btw- high and overly sweet but also so gravelly she's like a breakfast parfait), then went on to dominate roles in multiple genres well into her 50s. Such a great personality both onscreen and off, and to our end pulls off 'gorgeous,' 'sexy,' and 'cute' all at once (in a word: hot!)
Juanita Moore (Imitation of Life)— She was the third black actress to be nominated for Best Supporting Actress! She was also friends with James Baldwin (!) and got her other friend Marlon Brando (!!) to finance his play. She also met her husband of fifty years by nearly being hit by his bus which should be in a romcon, tbh. There's also a whole documentary about how she'd been ignored and overlooked due to Hollywood racism, so she deserves more attention!
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Jean Arthur:
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i had to submit every movie of hers ive seen so far because 1) shes GORGEOUS. 2) extremely gifted with comic timing and delivery and whats better than a confident beautiful woman that makes you laugh. and 3) seems to effortlessly blend wit emotion and logic in her performances in a way that sometimes is just so... it tells you as much about the other characters shes interacting with as it does her own (see this clip from mr smith)
youtube
Adorable and sultry with a voice that went from urban smartass to sounding, as director Frank Capra described it, more like tinkling bells than a voice has a right to sound
jean arthur wearing bucksin trousers and a little hat in the plainsman was fully my queer awakening. i love that woman so much. she has defined calamity jane for me. also she is adorable and heartbreaking and SMOKING HOT in deeds like everyone needs to experience her, she's everything to me
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She's a chameleon, rocking any hair colour and any style, any mood and any genre. And she's got such a fine, captivating smile!
Truly amazing talking voice, like eating pop candy. Played wise cracking gals with hearts of gold. Once got arrested for trespassing because she went to console a dog that was being mistreated. Angel. Star. Baby. Winner!
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Juanita Moore:
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sporadic-gremlin · 4 months
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Size queen chameleon and who loves getting gaped by her six foot S/o reader and their bitch breaking cock everytime they come to her for "relief"
Basically, readers' sinner ability that makes them an S class is the ability to generate and absorb energy in it's many forms and solidify it into weapons (swords, axes, bows and arrows etc) and barriers but this also causes reader to build up energy in their body overtime and that leads to stress and insomnia so what better way to relieve all that extra energy then by dumping it all into Chameleon's eager and pretty pussy
She likes being in control, but whenever she sees you enter her room and lock the door behind you, a switch flips inside her as she's already taking off her clothes and presenting herself for you to ravage
chameleon can feel the tension rolling off of you in waves as you step through the door, cock bulging through your pants. your eyes are alight with a certain fury that she’ll soon be the victim of. when chameleon hears that lock switch into place, a part of her comes to life too. you don’t say a word, passing chameleon a glance instead and she’s taking off her clothes.
chameleon is forcefully pushed down onto her stomach by a rough hand on her lower back, another spreading her folds. it’s already dripping. you unbuckle your pants, pulling them down enough to free your cock before filling chameleon’s pussy in one thrust.
“oh..”
the bulk of your body engulfs chameleon as you cover her, the warmth of your body adding to her arousal. your arm wraps around her neck, holding her in a headlock, the muscle of your bicep pressed against her throat. chameleon involuntarily snaps her eyes shut as you slowly drag your cock along her walls before slamming back in. your girth fills and stretches her deliciously, leaving her breathless and clawing at your arm. you bury your face into her hair, grunting with each squeeze of her cunt.
chameleon’s getting dizzy, the lack of air and your relentless pounding making it hard to breathe. she taps your arm twice and the warmth against her back was gone, replaced with hands on her hips and a moan is fucked from her throat. her skin is turning red from how rough you’re fucking her, nails digging into her flesh as you pull her into every thrust.
“fuck, fuck—”
guttural, throaty moans and animalistic grunts fill the room. chameleon’s toes curl and her mind goes blank, body spasming with the force of her orgasm. you growl, feeling your cock throb. you push chameleon’s head into the bed, using it as leverage to fuck into her harder, deeper. each time you pull out, you can see the ring of cum around your cock. her cries are muffled but your fingers curl into her hair, pleasure shooting up your spine, as your cum fills every crevice of her pussy.
you sigh, pulling out and watching how your cum leaks out of chameleon’s gaping hole.
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dees-nails · 1 year
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Polish featured:
Base: Holo Taco; One Coat Black
Toppers: all Holo Taco; Everything Taco, Lunar Unicorn Skin, Aurora Unicorn Skin, Cosmic Unicorn Skin, Flakie Holo Taco
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artemis32 · 4 months
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vagabond
my batfam obsession has finally come in handy (reader is like, late teens, early twenties??)
This was meant to be a drabble, but I went a teeny tiny bit overboard, and by overboard, I mean this is 5.6k words - there will also definitely be a part two <33
Enjoy :)) Or don't. I can't tell you what to do
****
dc masterlist
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****
“Okay,
Let’s do this one last time
My name?? You don’t need to know my name. All you need to know is that I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last six years, I’ve been the one, and only, Recluse.
….what? Spiderman?
No, no, none of that nonsense. That’s so overused. Plus, I’m a woman, and Spiderwoman just feels like a bit of a mouthful. 
Yeah… Recluse. I was bitten by a recluse spider. 
…ironically, I hate spiders.”
****
Hear me out.
You’re a Spider person(??), involved in the Spider verse. You have the usual Spiderman backstory (sort of), and you’ve got the same incredible senses and abilities. I imagine you having a slightly superior spider sense and speed compared to other Spiders – think Cindy Moon. And obviously, the name, Recluse, means you were bitten by a recluse spider (I fucking hate spiders), but that also means that you get all the qualities of a recluse spider. Mainly necrotic venom and the ability to camouflage. You can’t exactly turn invisible, you just have the uncanny ability of blending in like a chameleon. It’s kind of creepy, I won’t lie.
Regardless of your abilities, you were there when Miguel lost his temper and when Miles ran away. 
Except you made the mistake of trying to help Miles. Why wouldn’t you? He was just a child, and he only wanted to keep his family safe. Anyone else would’ve done the same in his position. Suffice it to say, that pissed Miguel off. Majorly.
And while Miles managed to get away without a dimension-travelling watch, you weren't as fortunate. You fought tooth and nail with other Spiders, not wanting to hurt them and not wanting to get caught. You barely managed to escape with your life as you tapped a random location into your watch and zapped off to another earth without a second thought or a proper plan. But not before the Spiders giving chase had managed to damage your watch (and you - they’re strong as fuck, of course they managed to do some damage).
Now, as you stand on an empty rooftop, examining your watch in the rain, you're beginning to think you may have fucked up. 
Slightly.
The watch still prevents you from glitching, you've confirmed that much. Thank goodness.
But it is broken. You know it is. Because you can't reach anyone else in the Spider verse. And you can't see what universe you're in. You feel like you’ve been thrown in the deep end, and the fact that you can barely stand doesn’t help.
****
Stood in the rain on a rooftop in the middle of nowhere, injured and all but stranded, was not how you had planned on spending your Saturday night.
As you distractedly tinker with the watch in a pathetic attempt to fix it, grumbling to yourself about your ruined weekend place, your spider sense goes haywire, ringing so loudly in your ears that your head spins.
You're so disoriented that you barely manage to dodge the dagger thrown your way.
A dagger that's... shaped like a plane? No, it looked more like a bird?
You step back cautiously as a man emerges from the shadows, jumping down from a ledge just above your head. 
He’s dressed strangely, which is one hell of a statement coming from you, someone dressed in a skintight spider suit. But-
“Really? A cape? Isn’t that, like, super impractical?” 
The question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, but really – did Edna Mode teach people nothing?
He walks closer without a word. His silence is almost as unsettling as his gaze. It feels as if he’s dissecting you. He keeps a safe distance between the two of you. 
Hm, he’s not completely lacking in the common-sense department, at least.
Then, after much deliberation, he speaks.
“That light- you fell from the sky?”
His voice was cautious, every word measured and serious. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in your appearance without a word. 
You sigh and prop a hand on your hip, trying to appear nonchalant, trying desperately not to wince at the flaring pain in your ribs. You were in no position to fight, so you’d either have to run, or talk your way to safety. 
If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking.
“Yep. You’re so observant.”
He scowls, his mouth pinching slightly at the corners.
Okay, maybe sassing the man with a dorky superhero cape isn’t a great idea… At least, not while I can barely stand.
So you change tactics.
“I’m sorry, I just- Look, uh, where exactly am I?” 
The look on his face tells you that that was not the right question to ask.
Great. A sceptic. That’s exactly what I needed.
So you backtrack, laughing awkwardly as you wave your hands dismissively.
“That was a… a joke- A terribly timed joke. I apologise. Uh, your suit is… nice?”
Now he seems more exasperated than cautious, and he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out towards you.
Your spider sense flares, and you know that something about this man is dangerous. He appears young and relatively harmless, but appearances can be deceiving, you of all people know that.
So, you do the only thing you can think of at that moment. The only command your instincts give you. You jump away. 
You jump.
And, naturally, you stick to the wall.
It’s nothing. It’s such a small action, one you’re more than accustomed to. You do it all the time, climbing walls and ceilings, scaling the sides of buildings. Other Spiders do it too. Even the civilians back on your own earth are used to it.
But it’s not nothing.
The man before you seems stunned beyond words, his outstretched hand hanging in midair as his jaw drops. He stares at you as you stand there, exactly perpendicular to him, sticking to the wall and defying all laws of nature as if it’s nothing.
His hand clenches in a fist and he reaches for a bo staff, the metal snapping loudly as he swings it outwards, the leather of his glove creaking as he tightens his grip.
“Who are you? Your name. Now.” he demands, his jaw clenched tightly.
You tilt your head. 
Was this guy an idiot? The first rule of secret identities is that they’re, y’know, secret?
“Oh, well, I’m Recluse. Who are you?”
He ignores your question, slowly approaching you again, looking at you curiously. It might have seemed innocent to a third party, but your head was still ringing. You couldn’t let this man get too close to you.
You sigh heavily.
Running it is.
You point your arm outwards, startling the man, who takes a wary step back. Before he can react or reach for you, you shoot a web out and swing away. His bo staff slams against the wall seconds after you leapt from it, the wall denting and crumbling from the force of his swing.
The look on his face was priceless, first fear at the sight of you jumping over the edge of the building, then surprise, then a flash of anger as you mockingly saluted him as you swung away. You’d laugh if your ribs didn’t feel like they were seconds away from shattering. 
You swing through the unfamiliar city, the buildings passing by you in a flash. Coming to a stop is painful, your head swimming as you nearly slam into the side of an apartment building. 
Thank God for spider-like adhesion.
You sit there for a long moment, taking a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings.
After you've managed to shake the dizziness away, you swing to the street down below.
While you think over your piss poor plan of finding some civilian clothing and learning more about this universe, you try to ignore the aching throb in your ribs. You weren’t too concerned about the injury – one advantage of being Spiderwoman was that you healed at an incredible rate. You’d just have to grin and bear until you healed.
****
Wayne Enterprises.
They specialised in a whole lot, but all that really interested you was their science division. In particular, the tech and biotech sector. The company seemed eerily similar to variations of other mega corporations you’d seen in your time travelling through the multiverse.
Stark Enterprises. Alchemax. Oscorp Industries. Roxxon Energy Corporation.
The list was endless, but you’d decided, after hours spent in a cramped internet café doing informal research on the strange dimension you found yourself in, that investigating Wayne Enterprises was the best place to start if you hoped to ever fix the watch and return home.
Your plan of action was simple. Scratch that, it was terrible - held together with little more than hopes and prayers. But with your abilities, you were confident you could pull it off.
That’s how you found yourself confidently walking through the foyer of Wayne Enterprises, acting as if you were supposed to be there. Swiping an access card off of some poor, unsuspecting office worker was easier than it should have been.
You wandered around the reception area for a while, carefully surveying the room before approaching the elevator with the air of someone who knew where they were going.
There’ll be signs for each division… Right?
Wrong.
Twenty minutes later, you’re still wandering aimlessly through corridors, hoping the right room would magically present itself to you.
So caught up in your own frustrated musings, you nearly miss the department you’d spent almost an hour looking for.
The sign above the door is pathetic - faded and barely visible, peeling and yellowed at the edges, like some old poster left out in the sun to age.
Shoving your irritation to the back of your mind, you quietly open the door, wincing as it creaks. Popping your head through the gap, you peek around the small room, and-
Nothing.
It’s completely empty, the thick layer of dust settled over the countertops seeming to mock your failure of a heist.
A silent huff of annoyance is all you allow yourself, quickly shutting the door and continuing on your way. Determination fuels your every step, intent to find something, anything, so that your breaking-and-entering excursion wouldn’t be for nothing.
****
Success.
You definitely weren’t supposed to be in here. Not that you were supposed to be in the building in general, but this?
‘This’ being what appeared to be the CEO’s personal office, if the floor to ceiling windows and expensive leather furniture was anything to go by.
You’d long since discarded any pretence of searching for the biotech department. Now, you were just snooping around, curious to see what exactly the CEO of Wayne Enterprises had laying around.
Naturally, you’d come across a few pictures of him in your investigation of Wayne Enterprises, and all you’d thought about the moment you’d seen his photo, was that Bruce Wayne was undoubtedly one of the most attractive men you’d ever met.
If you weren’t caught in such a dire situation, you might have taken the time to fawn over him a while longer.
The office is odd. There’s something about it that you can’t quite put your finger on, something uncanny. Maybe it’s that lack of colour or warmth, or the lack of any personal effects.
But that couldn’t be it. You’d seen plenty of rooms similarly decorated, but there was something about this in particular that set your hair on end. Not your spider sense, but your unconscious mind.
It almost felt as if you were being… observed. As if an unseen force was breathing down your neck, pinning you in place.
You distract yourself from your ever growing unease, pulling open drawers and rifling through cabinets. 
What an obscene amount of paperwork.
Truly, you don’t expect to find anything exciting or noteworthy. Maybe an office cellarette, maybe a Courtesan cigar.
What you don’t expect is to find the parts you needed to fix your watch. 
The parts that were supposed to have been in the biotech department.
Before you have much time to contemplate about why the tech worth billions is shoved behind a bookshelf, the door opens.
You’re on the ceiling before he even enters the room, your breath tight in your chest, the klystron conductor clutched firmly in your fist as you try not to make any sudden movements.
Certain abilities you’d gotten as a result of the spider that bit you came in handy more often than not, namely the capability to survive weeks, if not months without food or water, and the preternatural proficiency you had hunting at night. Most useful had to be your camouflage abilities.
And while you were able to camouflage yourself, it came with its own set of drawbacks and caveats. Specifically in the fact that it was a camouflaging ability, not invisibility.
If you moved too suddenly, even someone unaware would notice you.
It takes you a moment to realise that the man is Bruce Wayne. 
He looks different than in the photos - his back is broader, his hair darker, and his eyes…
His eyes-
Your head feels like it’s being split open, a buzzing so persistent filling your ears that you almost slip off the wall, your adhesion faltering for a moment.
There had been one or two stories within the Spider Society, of moments where someone's spider sense had gone so haywire they couldn’t tell up from down. There’d been a time where, supposedly, someone had even passed out from the pounding pressure in their skull.
Initially, you’d thought it was an exaggeration, a newfound hero overplaying a fight gone wrong in an attempt to save face.
Now, as he surveys the room, his azure eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than they should, you understand what they meant.
Panic isn’t enough to describe how you feel at that moment.
You feel too exposed, your nerves raw and laid bare. 
It… almost feels as if he knows you’re there.
But that’s not possible. There’s no way.
You allow yourself the slightest sigh of relief, releasing the searing breath in your chest as he turns, moving towards his desk.
His silhouette is broad and domineering as he bows over his laptop, the sound of his tapping at the keys filling the sweltering silence of the room. 
With his back turned towards you, you take your chance, slowly, so slowly making your way across the room, still sticking to the ceiling all the while.
You pause for a moment, freezing when you catch a glimpse of what exactly is on his screen.
The camera feed.
There you are.
Entering his office with a wide eyed look on your face.
And-
And that’s you, barely ten minutes ago, rifling through drawers and shelves.
He pauses then, on the frame of you holding the klystron conductor with a satisfied smile and a slight sparkle in your eyes.  He sighs heavily, his head dropping forward as he taps two fingers against the tabletop.
You don’t linger to see his reaction, dropping down from the ceiling and slinking out the ajar door.
****
After you’d hightailed it out of the building as soon as you could, you hadn’t dared to look back.
That man… Something about him set your nerves on edge. He wasn’t normal. 
Thankfully, you’d managed to get out without much hassle, and now you were wandering somewhat aimlessly through the city, looking for a place to set up shop, so to speak.
Spying a seemingly abandoned building across the street, you decided it would have to do for now.
As you cross the road, aiming for the darkened alleyway across the road, you’re slammed off of your feet. 
By a car.
Someone hit you with a goddamn car.
You lay there, in the entryway of the alley, gasping for breath as you press your forehead to the wet concrete beneath you. But no matter how deeply you breathe, you can’t seem to force yourself to your feet.
Spider sense my ass – what the fuck was that?! No warning, nothing!
The edges of your vision turn black, and you pray that you don’t pass out as a pair of polished black leather shoes approach you.
A man crouches down in front of you, his words drowned out by the ringing in your ears.
He reaches out to you, intent on pressing his palm to your shoulder. 
You pass out before he can touch you.
****
You might’ve been unconscious for a few hours or or a few weeks. You weren’t sure.
All you knew was that you were in what appeared to be a medical facility, and you were restrained. 
On the bright side, you felt a ton better than you had before you passed out. Though a look around proved that it might have been because of whatever concoction of drugs they’d given you to numb the pain. 
Well, with your increased metabolism, that comfort probably wouldn’t last too long.
You lay back, content to stay there until a doctor or nurse came in to check on you.
Twenty minutes later, long after the medication had worn off, someone entered the room.
The man, grey-haired and dressed in an immaculately pressed tuxedo, pauses for a moment when he realises that you’re awake before continuing on his course towards you and proceeding to check your vitals.
“How long have you been awake, Miss?” 
You don’t respond.
Or rather, you can’t.
Pain grips you like a vice, wrapping its fingers around your abdomen, digging its claws into your skull.
Stupid damned metabolism.
Apparently, your pain and distress are visible enough for the old gentleman to see.
He frowns, leaning closer slightly for a moment before striding towards a row of cabinets, sifting through them before returning with a needle and a small glass vial. He squints slightly as he fills the needle.
A lot of what happens after that is lost to you in your pained daze. You’re awake, aware, but barely.
The older man is gone by the time you manage to pull yourself out of the strange, aching daze.
In his stead is Bruce Wayne.
The heart monitor betrays your panic, the sharp beeping filling the echoing space of the room.
He doesn’t speak or move from his spot beside your bed, instead observing you with a flat look as your heart rate slowly evens out again.
After a long bout of silence, he hold up a hand, waving it slightly, and-
And he’s holding the klystron conductor.
Of course.
“Do you want to tell me why you were ransacking my office for a multibillion dollar piece of tech?”
Your hands clench and unclench around the stiff sheets, and you lick your lips before responding. 
“No, not particularly.”
You pause. 
“Do you want to tell me why you hit me with your car?”
The corner of his mouth twitches.
He finds this funny?! What a psycho.
“Well, you did steal from me.”
“So you hit me with a car?!”
He raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed with your raised tone.
“Regardless… I’m guessing it has something to do with this.”
Every muscle in your body goes rigid as he holds up your watch, casually dangling it from his forefinger as he carefully observes you for any signs of a reaction.
Okay, okay, just… play it cool. 
“What, a watch? Pfft, keep it, it’s not worth much. Just some piece of crap I won in a claw machine ten years ago.”
Your knuckles are white from the force of your grip as you all but strangle the bed sheets beneath your grasp. 
He smirks slightly, nodding empathetically.
“Ah, of course. So, you won’t mind if I toss it in the trash, right? Since it’s just an old piece of crap and all that?”
You shrug, keeping your eyes on his and away from the watch. “Go for it.”
And he does.
He tosses it in the trash can beside your cot, still watching closely from some reaction.
You remain nonchalant.
“...hm, well. Rest up then. You’ll need all your energy- Prison in Gotham is a harsh place.”
You blanch.
“Prison? But- But technically I didn’t even steal! You got it back, didn’t you?”
His mouth quirks slightly at that.
Great. He finds amusement in my suffering.
“While that’s true, you did break into Wayne Enterprises. And my personal office. I have the evidence. That’s grounds enough for an arrest, wouldn’t you agree?”
He stands, sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a casual stance.
Fine. I can play along for a bit.
“...okay. I-I’m sorry. Fine, you can hand me over to the cops, just- Just please let me rest for a bit? I think you might’ve concussed me.”
He huffs a laugh, his eyes lighting up in amusement. He knows you’re lying. And you know he knows.
“Okay. Take all the time you need.”
He leaves without another word, not looking back.
And not a moment too soon.
As the door shuts, you glitch, painfully spasming, your cells electrified and fizzing.
You fall out the cot, collapsing onto the floor as you grip the edge of the trash can, rifling through it in your search for the watch.
Slipping it onto your wrist and tightening the clasp, you-
…this isn’t my watch.
The door opens again and in strolls the culprit, a self-satisfied look in his eyes.
“Just a piece of junk, huh?”
“Oh, fuck y-”
You almost bite your tongue off mid sentence as you glitch again, clinging to the railing of the cot as your muscles stiffen up and your blood roils in your veins.
He’s speaking, confused and panicked as he calls out to you, and then someone else, rushing towards you. You think his hands might be on your arms. You aren’t sure.
Then it’s over. You’re hunched over, all but sprawled on the sparkling white tiles, shivering and sweaty, fighting the urge to throw up. 
But it’s over.
You squint up at Bruce.
His face is hazy, and so is the figure behind his.
Everything is hazy, but you can feel the strap of your watch on your wrist, his hand just above it. You can feel how dry your mouth is, and the pounding of the growing migraine in your temples. And you can feel your spider sense tickling the edge of your consciousness, slowly growing in urgency with each passing moment.
“What the hell was that?”
The voice is a new one, one you haven’t heard before. It belongs to the figure lingering behind Bruce.
His face comes into focus as the effects of your glitch wear off.
Blue eyes. Just as startling and off putting as Bruce’s.
In fact, he seems like a carbon copy. Almost. His skin seems slightly more tanned, and he’s leaner than his older companion. Shorter too, though just by a few inches.
“That…” you say in a weary manner, “was a glitch. A painful one. I don’t recommend trying it.” 
“A glitch?”
You deadpan, pushing yourself into a sitting position, leaning against the wall adjacent to your cot for support.
“Yeah. I just said that. Pay attention.”
“So that watch keeps you from… ‘glitching’ then?” 
Bruce and his companion sport matching expressions of intrigue and dread.
“Yep. Ten points to Gryffindor.”
“...what’s a Gryffindor?” 
Good God, I should’ve let Miguel kill me.
“...doesn’t matter. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
You get up with an embarrassing amount of difficulty, grunting as you pull yourself up using the cot’s railing. Your enhanced healing could only work so fast, it seemed, and clearly Bruce had done a number on you with the bumper of his car.
The short stride to the door is cut short as the young Bruce lookalike steps in front of you.
“Sorry, but we can’t let you leave just yet. Where exactly are you from?”
“Earth. Please move.”
“I can’t do that. You should sit back down, you don’t look too hot.”
You let out a strangled noise of disbelief.
“Excuse me, I look very hot. All the time.”
A deadpan look is all you’re granted in response.
That’s it, I’ve had enough.
“Seriously. Move.”
“No. Sit down.”
Bruce sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose as you and his mini-me engage in a stare down.
“Okay, that’s enough. Dick, back up. Miss, please, sit down before you hurt yourself.”
You pause, glancing at Bruce, then back at the man in front of you.
There’s a slight pause, and then-
You burst into a fit of giggles, clutching your pained ribs as you stumble back and collapse onto the cot.
“Your name is Dick? Dick? Seriously?”
His eyes harden at your laughter, his mouth pressed in a tight line.
“...it’s not that funny,” he mutters, unimpressed.
“Yeah it is. Who willingly allows themselves to be called Dick? I can think of six penis jokes off the top of my head. You’re practically begging for them.”
Bruce interjects before either one of you can continue, sending Dick a sharp look.
Ha. Dick.
“That’s enough. What I want to know is why you’re glitching. And you won’t be going anywhere until I find out.”
You deadpan, fixing him with an incredulous look.
“...no offence, but you can’t really keep me here.”
“I can, and I will.”
You snort, laughter bubbling up in your chest once more.
“No, I mean- You can try, but you probably won’t succeed. No hard feelings though.”
“What, you mean because of your superpowers? Trust me, they won’t do you much good around here.”
His words give you pause, and you stare up at him silently for a moment.
“I don’t- What are you talking about?”
“There’s no use playing dumb,” Dick interjects. “It won’t get you very far. We know about your abilities, and we’re telling you that we know about them so that you don’t try anything.”
“And what exactly do you plan on doing if I do try something? Money can only get you so far.”
Your words make Bruce’s mouth twitch into a small smile once again.
“I have a theory, one I hope you’ll entertain for a moment.”
He looks at you expectantly.
After a moment of deliberation, a heavy sigh, and a nod, he smiles in a self-satisfied manner and takes a seat on the foot of your bed. After a short nod to Dick, he exits the room, leaving you and Bruce alone.
“I think that you’re from Earth, like you said. Just not this Earth. I think that you’re from another universe or dimension, and you’re ‘glitching’ because you’re not meant to be here. Am I right?”
It’s an effort to hide your reaction and keep your face blank, but you manage. Barely.
“Well, that’s certainly an… interesting theory. What sparked that idea?”
He shifts, staring at you for a moment, resting his palms on his thighs.
“...you fell from the sky. Out of what I can only assume is a portal. And your cells are basically decaying without that watch- or at least, that’s what my colleagues at Star Labs tell me.”
You stiffen at his words, squinting for a beat.
“How do you know I came through a portal? The only person around then was that idiot with the cape.”
Bruce frowns at your words.
“The cape isn’t stupid. It’s practical.”
You deadpan. “It’s a deathtrap.”
“Regardless. I know about all that because…”
He pauses.
“Because I’m Batman.”
“...Batman? Is that supposed to be a superhero alias or something? That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard- Did you pick it yourself?”
He lets out a noise of exasperation, annoyance painting his features.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Changing the topic. It’s annoying.”
“...sorry.”
He shakes his head. “So? Am I correct in my assumption?”
You take a moment to think, really think, weighing your options. He didn’t seem like a bad person. Yes, he did hit you with his car. And yes, he wouldn’t let you leave, but…
But your spider sense had gone radio silent. If you were in any danger, it’d be ringing like crazy, so…
“Yes. Yeah, you are. I’m not from this Earth. I’m from Earth 662.”
“Earth… 662?”
“I just said that. Does everyone on this Earth struggle with processing information?”
He fixes you with a stern look before continuing on.
“So I assume you’re stranded here? That’s why you were trying to steal the klystron conductor.”
“Uh uh,” you tut disapprovingly. “I was borrowing it. I would’ve returned it… Eventually.”
Bruce nods along, rolling his eyes slightly as he continues.
“...Earth 662, huh… How many variations of Earth are there then-”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Your response is immediate and stern, leaving no room for debate.
Thankfully, Bruce doesn’t kick up a fuss.
“Hm… Well then, do you know how to get back?”
“Of course I do. I just need to fix up the watch. Hence the little heist I pulled off at your office.”
“And do you know how to fix it?”
You press your mouth into a tight line, avoiding the knowing look he gives you.
“Well, I mean… how hard can it be?”
He sighs. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
There’s a pause, a lull in the conversation, and neither of you say anything for a long while, both lost in your own thoughts.
“Okay. Here’s what I propose. You obviously don’t know what you’re doing-”
“Hey!”
“-so I’ll help you out. I’ll help fix that watch of yours, and let you stay with me while we try to find you a way back home. In exchange, you’ll tell me about things from your Earth, and about the multiverse. Sound fair?”
As much as you’d like to argue, to refuse his more than generous offer, you know you can’t. You were smart, but not in the areas needed to fix the watch. 
You needed his help.
Damn it.
“...fine. Deal.”
His hand feels cool and calloused in yours, and his grip is firm and reassuring.
If only you knew then how wrong things would go. Maybe you’d have refused his deal.
****
Four months later.
“...still nothing?”
“No. I’m sorry. I’ve sent Dick to Central City to find a few more parts.”
“It’s not your fault, I just… I really want to go home.”
It had been months. 
You’d been stuck on this strange Earth, so similar to your own, for months.
While the Wayne Manor was nice, and its inhabitants lovely, you missed your home. You missed your family.
But there was nothing to be done about it. You’d damaged your watch more than you’d originally thought, the travel mechanism was completely destroyed. 
Initially, you’d been foolishly optimistic, believing you’d return home within a week.
But that week had passed. Then another. And another. 
Time kept passing, and you were still stuck here, four months later. 
At least you had decent company.
While you didn’t exactly trust them, you’d grown fond of them. You might even have begun to consider them friends.
Dick had grown on you over the months, despite the rocky start to your friendship. He was reliable in a way that reminded you too much of the many variations of Peter Parker you’d met throughout your time in the Spider Society.
Tim, who you’d discovered was the ‘idiot in the cape’ you’d met on your first night on this Earth, was just as easy to get along with. At first, he’d thrown you off a bit with his unsociable personality, but he’d slowly opened up over time. Really, he was more of a nerd than anything else. 
And he’d heeded your words of wisdom regarding the cape.
Damian, Bruce’s ‘prodigee’, was someone you still had trouble getting along with. Your relationship had improved over the months, but barely. Before, he’d outright ignore your presence. Now, he at least graced you with a nod of acknowledgement or the occasional verbal greeting. 
How kind of him.
Bruce had become somewhat of a parental figure after he had walked in on you crying one night. While you were embarrassed, he’d taken it in stride, comforting you as best as he could, reassuring you that they’d find a way to send you back home.
“Oh, I know, I know. We’re all trying our best, just… try to be patient. We’ll find something soon, I promise.”
His palms rest on your shoulders, patting you reassuringly.
You nod in agreement, too tired and disheartened to say anything else as you mumble something about going to bed, turning to leave the room.
****
“And you’re sure no one knows she’s here? If they found out…”
“Yes Dick, I’m sure. I’m not an idiot, I know how to wipe a hard drive.”
There’s a slight lull in conversation as the two wait for the rest of the group to arrive.
A few minutes later, Bruce enters the room, Damian trailing behind him. 
He walks to where the two are seated and puts the klystron conductor on the table before them.
“That’s the last one. Have you done everything else?”
Tim nods, gesturing to a singular hard drive placed on the coffee table.
“That’s the only remaining evidence of her presence on this Earth.”
Bruce nods and sighs, looking between the three men with him before Dick interjects.
“Do you- I mean, are we really going to do this? We’re supposed to be the heroes. This… This isn’t something we can undo.”
All three of his companions hold a steely glint in their eyes as they nod.
“I’m sure. It’s better this way. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she needs. She’ll thank us for this in a few years.”
There’s a tense pause for a moment before he speaks again.
“Do it.”
And just like that, the final klystron conductor is destroyed, along with any hope you’d had of returning home.
“...she’ll thank us.”
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ada the mirrorball/chameleon, a very vague and weird conversation on her character (ep 37-40)
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going to off the bat make this abundantly clear that I JUST LIKE TO TALK!! if you think anything is outrageously wrong that's ok :)
anyways, this stems from me rereading nevermore and just, with hindsight, feeling a bit silly for my first opinions on ada. when i first read nevermore, i felt this overwhelming annoyance for her, and at times definitely hated her. especially at the beginning. she was a nuisance. but, i think like many others, as i continued, i just began to feel bad for her. and on my reread, i think that's just more prominent than ever.
i'm going to just be talking about general stuff from episodes 37-40, because if i talked about anything else i could probably talk until my jaw fell off. especially about her spectre, but let know if you want any rambles about that or not!
for this, i'm very much just going to ramble and then show you little pictures of where i picked this up!
so in episode 37, which as a quick summary is when ada is talking to lenore in the bathroom which can be summarised by this webtoon comment:
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anyways, so as covered they have a big conversation in the bathroom where ada basically says to lenore that maybe she misjudged her and maybe they should team up/be tentative friends. it's part genuine from what i can tell and also part manipulative. but what's interesting about the conversation in the bathroom is what ada does.
take this for example:
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i have absolutely no idea why that was the first thought that poked out to me, but here we are! the more i looked at it, the more i thought it was odd.
at first, i thought of it like a teen girl desperate to make friends, the same urge you get to sit beside your friend and just paint each others nails and the yearn for the closeness of a friendship where you swap clothes and stuff. girlhood and sisterhood. you know, that stuff.
but then i thought about it a bit more (and you know, could be reading a bit too much into this so excuse me if i am) and i thought about what we know about ada. obviously, this doesn't come in these episodes, but later in the series we're shown (i think) that ada fell in love with a rich man basically, and was murdered by him (i think!! correct me if i am wrong !!!) and we know she wasn't of the same class as him, something we become even more aware of in the next few episodes.
anyways, i thought about it, and then i thought about lenore and then i was like "oh is this something to do with class" and after reading too much into it i can conclude IT DOES HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH CLASS!
i think, if we look into it, ada's conversation could also suggest that ada wants to be lenore– not in the emo sad lesbian who's divorced sense but more she wants to have the life lenore has and wants the attention. i think ada sees lenore and maybe thinks subconsciously about the way she speaks and walks and assumes she's of high social standing. and since we're aware she isn't (especially with the way she says certain fancy words wrong) i think ada latches onto this and in the act of asking for trading blazers, i think she essentially is saying she wants the respect and status lenore has.
because what's one thing we definitely know about ada? she wants to be loved, she basically admits this to lenore as well in this episode.
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and we already see lenore and annabel's little back and forth and the fact that people "flock" to lenore. so, i dunno guys, maybe this is ada saying she wants that? she wants that respect and she wants to be adored, loved and seen. but as herself, she doesn't get it.
again, me looking too closely into it.
but i dunno, there's something to be said about this whole scene in itself and the things ada does.
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like here she's curling her hair with her fingers, something annabel literally does all the time. in that way, she tries to use people the same way annabel does, or what we see annabel do later. she curls her hair, tries to act all coy and tries to act like what she knows lenore is susceptible to. she does it i think not totally out of malice, but a place of insecurity because she wants to gain validation from her own little group. but it's funny because, even in this act, ada still fails to embody annabel. a wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf, and ada is still ada even if she desperately tries to act like somebody else.
then there's also the dinner scene in episode 38. we know that each of their meals is based on what they would've wanted as their last meal. and what's ada's?
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beluga caviar and champagne. both items that are absolutely rooted in the upper class. beluga caviar, fun fact, is also the most expensive type of caviar! ada's whole meal is a need and a want to be like the upper class and the obscenely large bowl of caviar just shows it. also, this whole scene (i think) is our first hint that ada isn't as, i dunno, posh (?) as she claims she is. of course, that's if you ignore when she doesn't pronounce things right.
then, if you look to episode 39, you kind of see more of ada's character and how she acts.
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here you see ada only pipes in when she's gotten confirmation that there's something behind it. ada is the type to stand behind anything so long as she has support– something so deeply rooted in her insecurities. take this and then take the fact girl barks like a dog in ep 40 into account, and you see something so overwhelmingly sad about her character. rereading this just made me pity ada even more.
i think, as a side note, i see a lot of people in webtoon comments and then some on tumblr make connections to morella and ada being similar, almost like two sides of the coin. and to an extent i agree with that. i think the different lies how in how they react to montresor in this episode.
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you see here that morella practically pleads with montresor to stop, but ada just blindly listens. she becomes, almost, a bit pathetic here. and also, sidenote, i cannot reread this episode with having to put my phone down and take a lap because this baffles me every single time. but i read it because wow yummy artstyle. ANYWAY.
you see ada truly desperate here. desperate to be loved, desperate to be accepted, desperate to be finally seen as somebody who has worth and value and desperate to be adored by them all and most of all: to be seen by annabel as a worthy friend or pawn, whichever she can get.
i think this is truly heartbreaking when you read it, because ada just wants to be loved and she'll do anything for it. i think in that way, morella and her differ. because morella is completely different to ada in the fact that even if she wants to make friends and to please people, she has a level of respect for herself and an overwhelming sense of empathy which trumps any insecurity. ada is the complete opposite in that aspect. her need to be loved and her insecurities trump her morals and her decision making skills.
and idk, i think there's something so sad about humiliating yourself and knowing you are humiliating yourself just so you can get somebody to notice you. i think it's just so fucking sad, and i can't look at ada and think she deserves to be hated anymore.
she might be a brat, but guys she's a brat with trauma and crippling insecurities and i think in some twisted way i love her.
anyways yeah, that's the end of my ramble!
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half-oz-eddie · 2 months
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I am so utterly obsessed with rag-tag team heist movies so I made a Stranger things heist crew AU roster
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Steve "Moneybags" Harrington's heist crew used to be a team of 2, the other being Dustin "Phisher" Henderson. Steve was the only person Claudia Henderson trusted to look after her son, and as Dustin grew older, the two of them became close friends.
Steve watched Dustin hack into all sorts of databases, uncover the truth behind town conspiracies and even hack a few of his bullies.
When Mr. harrington cut Steve off financially, he wanted to get back at him, and pull a "prank" with Dustin to empty out an offshore bank account that his father kept hidden from Mrs. Harrington.
The plan went smoothly. A little too smoothly, maybe. Or perhaps Dustin was a natural at this, that's what Steve believed. And since it was that easy for Steve and Dustin to get their hands on $1.5 Million, they decided to take their pranks to another level.
Steve proposed for their next prank, they should clean out one of Mr. Harrington's friends' cryptocurrency. He explains to Dustin how the asshole keeps his assets on a physical drive in his house that they could wipe while he was away on vacation.
Dustin agrees and suggests they bring Eddie "Safecrack" Munson into the fold. He tells Steve Eddie's trustworthy and knows how to pick locks and hotwire cars, y'know, just in case.
Eddie, of course, is thrilled by the idea. Not only does he love a little mischief, he'd love to get his hands on some money and a fast car. "However," Eddie told them "we'll need someone to drive one of those fancy cars outta there. We may be good drivers...but we're not that good. But not to worry, I know a guy."
The guy in question? Billy "Wheels" Hargrove. A California bad boy who knows plenty about fast cars and fast cash, so he's in without question. He also doesn't mind hassling pretty boy Harrington. (there's so much sexual tension between them. Billy's the one who gave Steve his code name. He said 'the hair' didn't quite fit.). But Billy's not doing anything unless his stepsister, Max "Sticky Fingers" Mayfield can come in and swipe whatever isn't nailed down for a cut.
They used to have a complicated relationship, but they bonded by shoplifting whatever Billy's dad wouldn't let them have. Max was a skilled thief. She could get out of any store with anything that she wanted, and Billy would drive away like a bat outta hell. She lifted consoles, games and even a little lipgloss, for Billy.
So their first heist goes without a hitch, and after wiping millions in crypto off some hard drives, swiping some expensive paintings and a 2020 Mclaren, they can't resist the urge to plan bigger heists together.
Billy suggests they call up his coworker Heather "Chameleon" Holloway. "She's got more wigs than personalities" He joked. When they brought Heather onto the team, she showed them her massive walk in closet, full of clothes, wigs, shoes and more. Not to mention, she could use her charm and distract anyone. Heather was bored at home, spending time perfecting her hair and makeup skills. She could change her appearance to look like a completely different person. It was all the fun she had. Her mom was always wine drunk, and her dad was a jerk who ignored her because he wanted a son, so she was happy to be part of a team that didn't treat her like she was invisible.
Under normal circumstances, they'd never spend time together, but now? They're an inseperable friend group.
They've made some friends (and enemies) in their line of work, but everyday is an adventure.
They recently took on a half a billion dollar heist job for a mysterious man by the name of Henry Creel, unaware of the dangers that lie ahead...
Tagging some people: @shieldofiron @adelacreations @dragonflylady77 @harringroveera @bigdumbbambieyes
Because I love your writing and I'd love to hear how y'all would include some other characters/ships in the mix. I just love heist AUs so much~
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igotanidea · 11 months
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All the little voices : J.T x reader
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Request: A Jason fic where the reader is insecure.
A/N: the parts in italics are retrospective.
***
It was one of those days.
Those days when she felt inadequate, insufficient, judged and dished. The mere thought of going out of the house was like a slap on the cheek.
She just wanted to rest, to not see people, not compare herself to all the other woman and girls on the streets and at work, ending up feeling like a walking disaster. Not getting lost in her own thoughts, her own head.
But a girl gotta work. And besides, she had that little critic inside her always saying mean stuff, making her feel guilty for not wanting to go out. And she listened, forcing herself to do things that left her even more broken than at the beginning.
Y/N really did like her job, found a way to express herself through it. Mostly, she was energetic, helpful, concerned, smiling and beaming while performing her duties. But after a while, her self-consciousness always started creeping in.
Always.
And it was like a step back from all she achieved.
Those were the days when she would rather fit into the wall, acting like a freaking chameleon than talk to people. Her duties were taking twice as much time, because she got scared of making phone calls and would rather search for the information by herself. Instead of talking to the coworkers in the other department she preferred sending e-mails just to avoid face to face confrontation. And an hour before the end of the shift she realized she was just staring at the clock praying that no one would drop by to have a little chat with her.
Surviving the work, however, was one thing.
The other, possibly harder, was getting back home.
Putting her earphones on and trying to separate herself from reality, Y/N got lost into her Spotify shuffle playlist, sounds of music bringing even more thoughts, plans, scenarios, making her even more insecure than before. Suddenly, she was painfully aware of the oldness of the T-shirt she was wearing, her worn-out shoes, bitten nails and that stupid zit on the chin that she couldn’t for the love of god conceal in the morning. Songs sparked some memories of the words her boss addressed her, about how she could be so much better and how she should step up in work and in life. And that lead her straight into thinking about Jay.
“I’m not worth any of this.” she thought “what does he see in me? Definitely something that is not there. I am not who he thinks I am. Honestly, I don’t know who I am at all. And what if I’m crazy? What if I’m gonna end up as someone I don’t even recognize? I don’t want that. I just want to get home and hide from the people. But I can’t do that” she felt like crying  “there’s so much work to do, so man e-mails and tasks to deal with. And what if I can’t deal with them? What if I’m both ugly and  stupid? What if I fail? What if I’m a failure?!” she didn’t even realize that, but her eyes turned sad, showing that vulnerable side of the girl, who truly was at the verge of tears. Her whole posture was just screaming “please don’t hurt me”.
She didn’t want people to look at her, to see her, and yet, somewhere in her crazy, spinning mind she felt like all eyes were on her, judging, commenting, laughing at her internally. She just wanted to disappear, ditch the grocery shopping, but it was either that or starving since her fridge was absolutely empty. Thank god for the self-service checkouts!
That spinning and turning and worrying made her get back home in a very strange mood with a mix of feelings, she couldn’t possibly contain. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream and walk around and lay down all at the same time.
Slowly the panic started creeping in and it was harder and harder to breathe.
She practically did nothing for the whole day, so why was she so tired. Why was she already fearing the upcoming day, despite the fact that it was barely 5 p.m. and she still had a whole evening to relax?
“Come on, just breathe Y/N. It’s gonna be fine, you are gonna be fine.”  she whispered, hugging herself tightly.
A mistake.
Feeling her own body and those little rolls of fat made her cry out loud. She never had a good relationship with her own body. How could she possibly love or accept something so broken, marked with stretched, imperfections, discolorations? How?  Damn, she just wanted to be pretty and skinny and perfect. For so many times she wished she was mentally capable of wearing a dress or shorts or something more …. revealing. Last week when Jason and she were  shopping at the mall, she stopped in front of the lingerie shop, admiring all those fancy panties and lacy bras.
“You like that princess?” Jason smirked coming from behind her back, wrapping arms around her waist and hugging her tightly to his chest, scaring her to death in the process. “I would love to see you in that, one day.”
“ I…..I …..” she stuttered
“why don’t we go inside so you can try it on?” Jason smirked “I’m most definitely ready to buy the whole shop  for you.”
“Why don’t we just go home and stop goofing around?” she wriggled herself free leaving him a bit dumbfounded
“It’s all right, baby. You’re still hot and sexy for me, even without….”
“Mhm, sure….” She mumbled, her eyes wondering all over, hands shaking and she just clenched her fingers to cover up for that. Hot and sexy, sure…. “You know what I just ….. I just remembered something I have forgotten. I…. I need to go to the mall bathroom real quick, all right? You …. Take that and I’ll meet you here in  a moment, all right? Great….” She did not even let him finish, taking off and heading straight to the one place when she could possibly get some peace and quiet.
She never told him she cried her heart out in that tiny lavatory. Quick make up was enough to hide the stains and reddened eyes.
Why was it all coming back to her now?
Just one trigger was enough to get her completely spinning.
“Y/N!”
“Yes, Jane?” she smiled at her coworker, waiting for the words coming
“I’m gonna need you to take some of my work and deal with it”
“I’m sorry, what? Why would I do your work when I got so much of mine?”
“Cause I’m leaving with the boss. He might promote me into his assistant, you know! Which means I am practically your immediate supervisor, and you shall do as I say.
Jane was not the sharpest tool in the shed and definitely not the most hardworking and she was getting promoted. Maybe Y/N truly was stupid for giving so much of herself to work. Maybe she was just not good enough and too quiet to ever be noticed.
Why the hell was all of that coming back now!?
She wanted to try something new and that’s why the girl found herself at the workout class at the gym. Not entirely sure how to use any of that special equipment, just standing like a statue and observing all those fit girls with their perfect figures.
If that was what Jason was watching every time he hit the gym ……
“Hey, are you new here?” a female trainer with the widest smile approached Y/N. “How about I show you around?” Y/N could tell the other girl was being sincere, but she already had enough. She did not fit in here. Not with her T-shirt and leggings serving as a workout suit and covering all those parts of her body that she was ashamed of.
“Um… I… thanks, but I think I actually feel sick…..” she mumbled, spun on her feet and never came back.
Y/N was extremely insecure at this point. She needed a hug. She needed someone to whisper sweet nothings and comforting words into her ear. She needed Jason, but at the same time never wanted to be a burden to him. To put the weight of her problems onto him. But maybe she could just casually call him up?”
“Jason?” she dialed the number and he picked up at the first signal.
“Hi, princess. What’s up there?”
“not… not much…” she swallowed harshly “I just needed to hear your voice….”
“What happened?” oh, he caught up on that little trembling in her voice and became concerned in an instant.
“Why would something happen?” she tried to scoff him playfully, but it did not work at all.
“don’t play with me babe”
“I need you, Jace” she cried into the phone “I’m sorry, please, can you come?”
“I’m on my way. Don’t hung up.”
“It’s not like I’m in any danger……”
“I don’t care. You are shaken so clearly someone upset you. You keep talking to me. I’m mounting the bike and will be there in like ten minutes. You do not hang up on me.”
She did not . At least not until she heard knocking on the door and very disturbed Jason with disheveled hear, in his leather jacket busted through them, immediately wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.
“Jason….” she wriggled a bit
“Hush. Let me hold you for now and then we’ll talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“What do you want?”
“A way out of my head.”
“Cuddles?” he asked
“please……” she whimpered and he didn’t even hesitate picking her up and carrying her toward the couch.
“I can…..” she protested but he cut her off.
“Yes, I know you can walk, but something tells me your legs are going to give up on you soon, so don’t fight against me.”
He laid her down gently, climbing up next to her and sneaking arms around her.
“ Thank you for coming….” She muttered hiding face in his jacket
“You really left me no choice, baby. That phone call was rather disturbing. “
“I;m sorry” she winced ashamed of taking his time and attention.
“Stop saying you’re sorry! Why would you be sorry? Y/N, baby, look at me” his right hand ended up on her cheek caressing it gently “what…..? Ohmygod…..”
“What?” she trembled. Was he going to leave because she was so needy and whiny and shaken? Was he done with her, like all the other boys in her life before? Not that there were many but still enough to leave a scar.
“You feel like you’re not enough.” He stated simply. “you think you are a burden.”
“What? No, of course not! I’m perfectly fine!”
“You’re not. “ Jason shook his head “I know that look. First handed. I used to do that too. Constantly wondering if I was too much to handle for you. If I was only bringing you down.
“You did?” her eyes grew wide. “I never knew…. Why didn’t you tell me?” she lifted herself up, hand lying on his chest, feeling his rapidly beating heart.
“Possibly for the same reason you did not tell me.” He smiled lightly, but his eyes were sad beyond recognition. “Because I love you. And I never wanted to worry you.”
“Jason….” tears started falling down her cheeks “Baby, you have to tell me such things. I love you too, I don’t want to see you hurt or feeling insecure. Ever. I’m here for you, you know there’s not a single thing I wouldn’t do to make you feel better and …. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re just so sweet, baby. But now, I need you to think about what you just said and turn those words around.”
“What? How….?” She looked at him, a bit confused but only for a second “oh, you little rascal!” Y/N hit his chest a couple times, before he grabbed her wrist and kissed it gently, lovingly “you played me!”
“Yeah, I did. Like a pro, didn’t I?” he smirked, clearly proud of himself
“You made me cry!”
“And I hate myself for that. But it was needed so you would understand exactly how I feel when I see you like that. I’m not good with words, Y/N, I know I’m not, but the feelings I have for you are right here.” Jason closed his eyes and put her hand back on his rapidly beating heart “ there are no words in any language to describe them.”
“I think I might cry again….”she warned, her face twisting
“Go ahead. Here’s the shoulder, dedicated especially to that.” He pointed towards his limb and smiled widely “Y/N….”
“Yes?”
“I bought that thing you were watching at the last shopping spree…..”
“YOU WHAT?! I’M NOT…..”
“Don’t worry,  we’ll get there baby. I’ll be proving to you how wonderful you are, using every method possible. I’ll make all those little voices of yours shut up. And If that may require taking some things off your ….” His eyes travelled over her body with lust, making her tremble “…. Shoulders” he finished smirking “than I’m game.”
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COD MW2 NSFW Headcannons
Includes: Ghost, Soap, König, Valeria x any sex/race reader.
A/N: I used to play COD: Zombies when I was little and had nightmares. Maybe this is retribution for that.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
70% dom, 30% sub.
Gives head like it’s his last meal, wants head like it’s your last meal.
Good stamina, 10min recovery (perfect amount of time to give some rounds of head before another one of his own, yk?).
Rough, but affectionate. The same ideology of cuteness aggression. He just can’t get enough of you.
Likes receiving: rough handjobs/blowjobs, face sitting/face fucking, mild overstimulation.
Likes giving: degradation and praise (best of both worlds), some spitting (if you’d like), spanking.
Favorite places are the couch, dining table, and shower.
“Babygirl/boy” “Hon” “pretty slut”
Soft grunts/groans, broken moan when he cums. A bit louder when subbing, a bit growlier when domming.
Ways to turn him on: wearing his shirts, teasing, touching his ass.
Tends to be serious, but may say something a little sly or witty.
John “Soap” McTavish
Also 70% dom, 30% sub. But won’t admit he’s willing to sub.
Head destroys him. Reduces him to a mess. He gives pretty good head, himself, and will go for hours if you want.
Great stamina, 20min recovery, and likes cuddling/making out before a next round.
Romantic, but knows how to pick up the pace if you request. May even default to it depending on his mood.
Likes receiving: sloppy blowjobs (knocks him tf out), nails digging into his back, pegging (but doesn’t know it!).
Likes giving: thighsex, edging, doggystyle, you in lingerie/something ‘promiscuous’.
Favorite places are ones hidden in plain sight (closets, bathrooms), the bedroom, and the shower (a lot like Ghost…hm…).
“Sweetheart” “Doll” “So fuckin’ good for me”
Low moans, with an off chance of a whine, which he’ll quickly surpress. Stuttering, then gasping when he cums.
Ways to turn him on: Again, lingerie. Coming up behind him and kissing his shoulders, as well as running your fingers up his arms.
Can crack an endearing joke, but otherwise a casual sort of serious. Y’know?
König
40% dom, 60% sub. He doesn’t know it until he meets you, though.
Head has this man gasping for air like he’s drowning or something. Head has him on the verge of (good) tears. He’s super eager to give you head, too. He takes it like he’s starving.
Great stamina, 20min recovery (usually due to the intensity of his orgasms). He is clingy and desperate for kisses after.
So fucking needy. I don’t know how much more I can articulate that.
Likes receiving: a good peggin’, frotting/grinding, passionate kisses, praise.
Likes giving: passionate kisses, crazy good head, teasing (all in good fun), hickeys.
Favorite place tends to be the bedroom, but he fantasizes of taking you in front of the fireplace or under the stars somewhere secluded.
“Liebe [love]” “sir/ma’am” “dear”
You better not be living in an apartment. That’s all I’ll say about his volume level.
Ways to turn him on: holding his chin, neck kisses, pushing him down.
Too focused to think of anything funny to say.
Valeria Garza
65% dom, 35% sub.
Her hands instinctively grab your hair when you give her head. Without fail. If you request, she’ll gladly give you head, too. She may offer to do so.
Best stamina of all, 15 second recovery (female). Thus, she gets right back into it.
She’s a woman of many talents. Rough? Quick? Gentle? Romantic? You got it.
Likes receiving: hair-pulling, worship, degradation.
Likes giving: handcuffs, face-sitting, long make outs, knife play.
Favorite places are negotiable. A real chameleon, she is. But she does have a sort of running streak for kitchen countertops.
“Babe” “whore” “pretty thing”
Breathy moans, hitching when she cums. Always has to catch her breath, as she inadvertently holds it sometimes in her focused state.
Ways to turn her on: raking hands through her hair, hands on her waist, sitting on her lap/having her sit on yours.
Serious as can be.
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