#anyway then i was remembering this bizarre thing that happened when i was working with the bakery

[seven-saffodils]

.

[toa-arania]

I found Touhou on IMDB and then it got worse.

So there's a bit of a story behind this, as there should be with any post. I have spent the past *checks clock* fifteen minutes and counting losing my goddamn mind over this.

Touhou 1-11, including 7.5 but not 9.5 or 10.5 for some reason, are all on IMDB. This is not that strange, as many video games are listed there for their writing or voice credits. What's weird is how I discovered this. I heard a voice in, of all things, a four and a half hour video about the Lego Ninjago show and how badly it fumbles its women. One of the characters sounded a bit like Azula ATLA so I checked. It was not the same VA. Then I saw this.

And then I saw this.

Now the sharp-witted amongst you may have noticed the tiny little inconsistency that

TOUHOU DOES NOT HAVE VOICE ACTING

Touhou has never had voice acting, especially not back in 2003 when PCB came out. There's also the detail that Layla Prismriver does not appear in PCB, nor does she appear in any Touhou game outside of her mention in the character profile of the Prismrivers, which firmly establishes her as very dead and thusly incapable of speech. You'll be pleased to know that it continues to get worse.

This is not the plot of PCB. What the fuck do you mean only one of these heroines intends to stop it. The cast list is also fucking bizarre.

Merlin and Lunasa are here but fuck Lyrica I guess. Alice and Youmu are not credited and REIMU ISN'T HERE EITHER. Youki Konpaku is credited. Youki Konpaku is not in this game. The goddamn Saigyou Ayakashi (which is spelt disastrously wrong here of course) is given a voice credit. THAT IS A TREE. THAT IS A TREE THAT DOES NOT TALK IN A GAME THAT DOES NOT HAVE VOICE ACTING. I AM GOING INSANE. WHERE IS REIMU.

Now obviously what I did at this point is start checking the other ones, and th8, 9, and 10 don't really have much interesting going on other than a continued and bizarre lack of Reimu in all of them. 6, 7.5, and 11 however are all bizarre for fun new reasons. Let's start with Subterranean Animism and work backwards.

I was suspicious of the lack of images so I went to check all of their pages and they're mostly men as far as I can tell. Most of them are credited in a film called Sule, Ay Need You, which a brief google has only barely convinced me is a real film that exists in the first place. It has a wikipedia article in indonesian. One of them, however (the only one with a picture) has been in eleven million different things with reasonably big parts. I have no idea what's going on here. With the player character situation there are eight characters uncredited not including Koishi, who is also nowhere to be seen (which feels strangely appropriate) and Sanae who I remembered literally as I was typing this is in th11.

Moving on to Immaterial and Missing Power:

TGHAT'S REIMU

Also I'm pretty sure Meiling wasn't in IaMP? (According to a quick google she was added in a patch but not given a story mode). Anyway the sudden appearance of Reimu is the only real interesting thing here because random cast absences are just so commonplace now. Now lastly for the weird fucking pages we have the Embodiment of Scarlet Devil and oh wow this one is something else.

Where do I even begin. Reimu is gone again. Three separate people are credited as Remilia. Actually most characters are credited twice except for Marisa and Sakuya for some reason. Sometimes they specify (voice) and sometimes they just don't. Most characters have [Character Name] and [Character Name (Voice)] which implies that one person is doing mocap or operating a puppet or something while another voices them but then there's just Rumia and Rumia. Who voices Rumia. Remilia has three fucking credits. Marisa and Sakuya get to be normal people. Reimu and Patchouli are just fucking gone. What the hell is happening.

And now it gets stranger once again because I said th1-11 earlier, not th6-11. The PC-98 games are all here too. However. Those pages are all just. Normal. ZUN is credited as the writer. There are correct plot summaries. No voices are credited. The name format is even different (Touhou [Number] [Japanese name]: [English name] instead of just Touhou [Japanese name]: [English name]). They're far too good quality. It honestly feels like whoever uploaded the PC-98 games is a different person to whoever's been doing their bizarre uploads of the windows games.

Now at this point I was looking for other interesting stuff to add - IMDB has Did You Know segments that had fun little details about the games, which seemed to be accurate. It also has a More Like This section linking to the other pages and-

...

...

Luna Nights is here too.

...

LUNA NIGHTS ALSO DOESN'T HAVE VOICE ACTING!!!!!!!!

[no-psi-nan]

One thing I never see people talk about is that canonically, Terusai is super one-sided...

From SAIKI'S side.

Over the course of the series, Saiki's respect for Teruhashi grows with every interaction. He bends over backwards to prevent her feelings from being hurt, he puts less and less effort into avoiding her, he looks after her safety and happiness, he risks his reputation by publicly rescuing her, he's fascinated by her beauty the one time he gets to admire her, she galvanizes him into action when he's in shock about the meteor and the "return" of his powers.

On the other hand, Teruhashi starts caring about the fake fanboy version of him she invented, and over time, grows comfortable with the fake silent glum mask he projects. She doesn't find him physically attractive and she struggles to compliment him to his grandfather. She likes how safe he makes her feel, and finds his presence comforting, but at no time does she know his actual personality, nor does she really make any real attempt to get to know him better, instead focusing on ways to impress him and make him "offu". She knows that her fanclub could put him in danger (hence tossing her chocolates out the window) but still calls on them to force him to hang out with her on multiple occasions.

In order for them to have a real relationship, Teruhashi would have to learn Saiki's actual personality and decide whether she likes it as much as the fake versions she fell in love with.

But for that to happen, Saiki would have to reveal his powers (prerequisite for showing his real personality), which would immediately force Teruhashi to face three MAJOR crises:

The INCREDIBLE mortification of blindly chasing after someone who could hear every one of her mean/rude/bizarre/thirsty thoughts and who was trying to let her down gently the whole time for SIX FUCKING YEARS, all while she made SO much trouble for him

The subsequent reckoning about what it means to be a "perfect pretty girl" after finding out someone was watching her struggle and fail at it, plus the possibility that people only like her because her beauty is a magical power like Saiki's ESP, and NOT because any inherent goodness or effort on her own behalf

The fact that her fans almost killed both Saiki and Nendo when he was "powerless", and the realization that the Kokomins (whether part of the club or not) have almost certainly hurt many people on her behalf, and that she herself has mobilized them against Saiki before. Also the fact that they actually control her almost as much as she controls them, because she has to work so hard to meet and exceed their expectations

While Saiki already knows and likes her for who she is, Teruhashi (who regularly goes to mental and physical extremes to maintain her persona) is going to have to grapple with her own sense of self before she can even really find out what Saiki's actually like, much less have a healthy relationship with him.

And meanwhile Saiki knows that dating Teruhashi would be a major risk for him, as much as he might like to, because she attracts so much attention that it would constantly risk his identity.

There's so much baggage they have to work through in canon in order to finally be on the same page, and so much to explore psychologically, especially when you remember that Teruhashi is also apparently only 5 minutes away from starting a cult based on like every canon AU hsfjdlshfks.

She's under a huge amount of stress! Has been for a long time! And then if the guy she thought she knew turned out to be a god, sometimes even The God she prays to, what's that going to do to her psyche??

Anyways this post got away from me but there's so much fertile ground for really interesting analysis and character development! But I've never seen anyone tackle any of this so I figured I'd type it up in case people didn't realize just HOW bonkers it all is lol!

[tsukimefuku]

I have a Higuruma sfw crack head canon and I’m about to turn it into everybody’s problem

This has been written by an actual criminal defense attorney specialized in continental law (which is the system in place in Japan) with free time on her hands.

So, from what we’ve learned, Higuruma has dedicated his career exclusively to being a criminal defense attorney. Given he’s 35 during the events in JJK, it’s safe to say he has been working with it for at least a decade.

So, as it is to be expected, since he has been called a genius numerous times, his knowledge of criminal law and criminal procedure law is probably off the charts. That has also been demonstrated when he’s debating the possible outcomes to put Sukuna under trial during chapter 244 (also, chef’s kiss 🤌 for mentioning the statute of limitations and code amendments that came in 2010. Whoever consulted for Gege did a WONDERFUL job).

From what Higuruma has told us previously, Judgeman uses the six Japanese codes to give the sentencing: the Constitution, the Civil Code, the Criminal Code, the Commercial Code, the Code of Criminal Procedure, and the Code of Civil Procedure. I believe this might be a mistranslation, though, because the pachinko parlor prohibition seems to come from what we would call an ordinary bill, not one of the codes, but I digress.

Also, according to him, considering Judgeman is his shikigami, what he believes is feasible under interpreting a law becomes a possible verdict.

With all that, I need to settle some things of being a specialized attorney for a long time.

What happens, more often than not, is that you become incredibly rusty (and kinda bad) at comprehending and interpreting other areas of law. That happens simply because the rationale of each area works very differently. For instance, I don’t understand or remember most of what I studied regarding labor law during law school, and I’ve been working exclusively with criminal law (as an intern and then a lawyer) ever since 2015.

So here’s my question: if judgeman, for whatever reason, had to judge civil, labor or commercial matters, considering it is bound by Higuruma’s own comprehension of the Japanese laws, would it give bizarre verdicts that wouldn’t make ANY sense in an actual Japanese Court of law?

My head canon is that YES, THAT WOULD DEFINITELY HAPPEN, AND IT WOULD BE FUNNY AS HELL.

Anyway, that’s it, thanks for reading my brainrot. 🦉

[ivystoryweaver]

Moon Boys Celebrate Your Birthday HC's

Based on this ask by @soulsforsales: How do you think the moon boys would treat you on your birthday???

Oh my goodness 🎂🎈🎉 Ok.

*angst warning, but mostly fluff

MARC

Birthdays are hard for Marc. So, so hard. They were when he felt most alone, forgotten and unseen.

It’s when he missed Randall so much he felt physically sick.

It’s when his mom refused to acknowledge her living son.

It’s when his dad made a feasible effort but ended up defending his abuser anyway.

So they’re difficult for Marc. But it’s your birthday. It’s you. And you would never.

Marc is going to overcompensate.

He had half-assed Home birthdays with no friends and a homemade cake. Those can be great if done well, but you’re worth more.

He’s going to make a reservation at an impressive restaurant the night before your birthday. It will be unique, intimate, romantic. Candlelight, soft music, delicious food and drinks.

You will have his undivided attention and be his only priority.

The fact that you are in the world is something he cherishes.

Intense eye contact will melt you into a puddle. He’ll keep reaching across the table for your hand.

He’ll pull out your chair and guide you along with his hand on the small of your back. Everyone will know you are his and this is a special day for you.

You barely make it out of the restaurant, just a touch blissfully tipsy, when his lips crash into yours

JAKE

^idk why I keep seeing this Drive guy as Jake lol

Jake will be celebrating, probably on the weekend closest to your birthday, maybe the night after.

There will be singing, in more than one language.

There will probably be dancing even if it’s just a quick couple of Salsa steps around the kitchen.

He cooks for you, making a huge mess. But it's yummy.

He wants you to smile and laugh. He wants to make you feel as amazing as you always make him feel.

He tried to decorate your cake, but it's hilariously bizarre. The two of you try to fix it and get into a frosting war.

It gets on the tip of your nose and cheek. Jake swipes it away and submits his thumb to your lips for cleaning.

You hold his gaze, dragging your tongue across the pad of his thumb before sucking it into your mouth.

Then you get the rest of your birthday present. For the rest of the night.

STEVEN

Steven doesn’t quite remember a lot of birthdays - not childhood ones anyway.

Memories are either absent, confusing, or completely a false shadow of what really happened to them.

He has to sort out his feelings about birthdays.

But again, this isn’t his birthday, it’s yours.

He’s waiting for you when you wake up. “Happy birthday, love.” He wants you to know right away that he’s remembered.

He gazes into your eyes and traces your lips with his fingertips.

"Steven," you whisper as he brushes his lips over yours.

You're late to work because of him.

He's done little things for you: your lunch is prepared, your favorite tea or coffee is in your favorite mug.

Your favorite sweater is clean and warmed in the dryer. He wraps you up in it before you leave.

When you get to work, there are flowers delivered, with a card. He is a classic romantic after all.

When you arrive home, he is positively giddy. He’s planned a scavenger hunt for you. It’s full of mischief and riddles.

You follow the clues, watching Steven's gorgeous brown eyes sparkle with excitement as his soft voice lovingly encourages you from clue to clue.

You finally get to the end and discover your present. Steven's taking you away on a trip.

Of course Marc and Jake will show up too.

The boys end up saying "Happy Birthweek" after a couple years of this. You’re worth a lot of celebrating.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Askbox

[bonefall]

This is kinda a funny comment but @ Brambleclaw telling Hollypaw how smart she is, i remember reading an article about how corporate spies (YES THIS IS RELATED) got information. The article was mostly one person's retelling about how it was entirely though phone calls where they just ask for information, and whenever the person on the other side started questioning them for why they needed the information, they were told to switch to praising the person on the other side for sticking to the rules and 'authenticating/checking' everything. That they'd 'put in a good word for how dedicated they were', basically buttering them up and making them feel good about catching what they were doing specifically to nudge them away from actually catching on.

I find it WILDLY interesting how the Erins just ACCIDENTALLY put actual manipulation tactics in their books when trying to make a male figure seem like a good person, almost like they're writing from experience in some kind of elaborate essay to themselves about how that behavior is okay and justifiable. They write in another character, Crowfeather, who abuses in a different, more noticable way just to compare and go "At least it's not this bad!" (the scene where Crowfeather chews out Breezepaw and one of them goes 'id rather Brambleclaw any day of the week!'), and then have Ashfur butter up Brambleclaw so that him excusing Ashfur's abuse can be claimed as Ashfur manipulating him.

ANYWAYS a question so you can properly add to the ask: How DOES the Ashfur buttering up Brambleclaw thing go down? Does Ashfur even NEED to butter him up? I think it'd be a little interesting if Hollypaw telling Brambleclaw was the first time he's actually heard of it happening, but he either confronts Ashfur and THEN gets buttered up, or he heards, thinks about it, and goes "nah its good actually I'd do the same".

There's actually a name for the tactic Ashfur uses that you saw in that spy article. It's called Ingratiation.

It's the act of making someone have a higher opinion of you, therefore putting more trust in you, by simply getting them to like you. Flattery, posing yourself as an in-group, and even using humor can all be part of ingratiation.

Now-- Ingratiation isn't ALWAYS nefarious. It's normal to try and make a good impression, or want to be liked by a possible friend or coworker. We try to influence other people all the time, we're social animals. It's just good to know that it CAN be used maliciously.

So I'm not too surprised to see a manipulation tactic in the book. I was using "buttering up" exactly because most people know WHAT it is, and that it IS a way to get people to do stuff, but don't connect that to its academic name. Like you said though what's so BIZARRE about it is how they really DO sometimes seem to be writing this looooong essay to themselves about how that was all Fine, Actually.

ESPECIALLY the way Bramble and Crow were contrasted in the Dog Scolding Scene. I left most of Bramble out because I was trying to focus on proving that Breeze was abused, but Nonny... the way the Three get chewed the fuck out by Bramble, as he insults them, assures Crow he won't be stopping for their exhausted sakes, and doesn't indicate that his anger is coming from concern...

It massively reminded me of when one neglected kid sees another kid get abused too. "Oh, well, what I'm going through isn't so bad, because it's not like THAT."

THEYRE SO CLOSE. ALL THE TIME. Like an INCH away from the point and it's AGONIZING.

Anyway... in BB, Bramble's enabling of Lionpaw's abuse is a WATERSHED moment for a bunch of the character arcs, especially Hollypaw.

I plan to keep it very similar to canon actually, I think it's stainless steel the way it is.

Ashfur KNOWS what he is doing.

He wasn't rolling for a save. It was calculated. Brambleclaw is someone who could have stopped his abuse, so he sought him out.

Can you see how inescapable that makes it, for Holly and Lion?

Holly finally worked up the courage to say something and stand up for her brother, only for her father to coo like she's a kitten who doesn't understand the world.

Even Lionpaw's father believes it's good and right to BLEED for your Clan. That this is normal... that this is even what love can look like.

BB!Lionblaze is the adopted father of his bio-nespring, Ivypool and Dovewing. What he internalizes here as a child is going to hurt BOTH of his daughters down the road, as he shoves them into the Dark Forest and a Prophecy, respectively.

Even after Brambleclaw disowns him and Lionblaze rejects him in response, adamantly saying he has ONLY a mother, he won't reject this lesson until it's TOO LATE.

And Hollypaw is so damaged by this scene that it's going to be the first domino towards her murderous break in Cruel Season.

"I need you to keep your brothers in line, Hollypaw" is soup stock, and then add obsession with the Code, constant betrayal from the relationships she forges in other Clans, her near-murder at the claws of Ashfur when he finds out the Power of Three + Fire and Tiger prophecies, and the murder of her mentor and grandfather.

And then she finds out her HalfClan brother, a Cleric, angel-punching blasphemous wretch he is, has gotten Poppyfrost pregnant. Just like Leafpool before him.

What else IS "keeping them in line" supposed to be, when he's gone this far? He's had enough chances. She will do what she's meant for. Jayfeather must DIE.

Bramblestar himself is notorious in BB for being incredibly controversial as a leader, taking power in Cruel Season just after Firestar is killed by the Dark Forest assassins.

This is part of his personality. He is easily blinded by his own feelings, and it makes him a good target for manipulation.

His first deputy, Thornclaw, exploits many of the same weaknesses Ashfur did. All part of the Dark Forest's plan.

And even Ashfur. Up in StarClan, he continues to plot, eventually leading to the events of TBC and his time as the Impostor.

[idle-daydreams]

Tiger Love

Tw: Yandere, kidnapping, dub-con (non-consensual mild sexual assault), delusional thoughts

“Please don’t be afraid.”

You glared at your captor, tugging at your restraints. You were gagged and bound to the foot of a strange bed in a strange room. Did he really think you wouldn’t be afraid?

The man paced around you slowly, eyeing you intently from the shadows. The room was dark, lit only by the light of the moon from the solitary window. Though his face was covered by a balaclava, his eyes gleamed a pale gold.

Creepy as it was, there was something about him that was vaguely familiar.

The air was cool and smelled of roses; the floor was carpeted with thick shag that tickled your feet. The rope across your wrists and ankles burned as you wriggled again, hoping for something to give way. There was no reason for anyone to kidnap you. You were neither rich, nor involved in anything particularly noteworthy. The only thing against you was that you were a woman.

Which meant that if you didn’t escape in time, you were in for a terrible fate.

“I... I know you must be scared, but I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” the man spoke up again. He sounded surprisingly miserable for one in charge of the situation. He stepped forward, and a faint jolt of surprise ran through you. Your kidnapper had seemed bigger, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he’d carried you off. The guy before you was slim, almost boyish in build, wearing a long, dark overcoat that threatened to swallow him whole.

You tensed as he came closer. Slowly, almost gently, he reached out and traced a gloved knuckle across your cheek.

Automatically, you tilted your head away.

The man flinched and pulled back as though he’d been slapped. "S—stop it," he said, reaching out once again. This time, despite your attempts to pull away, he continued to stroke your cheek in a bizarrely gentle caress. “You’re so beautiful,” he purred.

Your heart thumped frantically in your chest. The man was close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, hear the ragged heaviness of his breath. His touch was soft, yet with a frenzied edge, as though he was straining to hold himself back. He brushed a thumb against your lip and whimpered.

"[Y/N]," he said in a hoarse voice. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

Bile rose in your throat at the naked desire in his voice. You tried desperately to do something – pull away, hit him, break free – but he had clearly done an excellent job, trussing you up so well that you could barely move. The man trailed his hand lower, down your neck, across your chest, lingering over the buttons of your shirt.

You mind went numb. This isn’t happening.

Then suddenly he pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his hands to his face instead. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this isn’t right. But if I tell you who I am, you'll never leave the room – but then again, you'll never leave the room anyway. You're mine forever." 

He shook his head again. Then with a sudden movement, he pulled off the balaclava to reveal a pale, anxious face framed with lily-white bangs.

“Hey,” he said with a weak smile. “You remember me, don’t you?”

You stared at him in shock. Atsushi Nakajima.

Atsushi beamed, taking your shock for comprehension. “Of course you remember me!” he said, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “You love me, after all. You’ve been so kind to me, even when I’ve been such a bother.”

His words rang in your ears, your mind refusing to comprehend them. Atsushi had been coming to the restaurant where you worked for almost half a year; every day at the same time, asking for the same bowl of chazuke. You loved chazuke too, so you’d struck up a conversation, which had eventually blossomed into a distant friendship born of familiarity. You’d never imagined it would ever go beyond that.

Clearly, Atsushi had had other ideas.

Atsushi sat back, chewing his lip. “I’m sorry,” repeated. “This isn’t how I wanted things to go. I wanted – I know that you deserve better. But I didn’t know what I do. I needed you – I need to have you with me. You’re mine, aren’t you? You love me, don’t you?”

His brows were furrowed, eyes brimming with anxious yet eager anticipation. He looked like the same weak-looking boy you saw almost every day – it was difficult to believe he could do something like this.  But then again, hadn’t he said something about being in a detective agency? The one with ties to the government, full of ability users?

A leaden weight descended in your stomach. You didn’t know much about ability users. You did know that their abilities intruded in the realm of the supernatural, elevating them from ordinary humans. And if Atsushi had an ability, what exactly was he capable of?

The leaden weight contracted.

Atsushi was still watching you. “May I kiss you?” he asked. Before you could answer – not that you could, not while gagged – he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Another whimper escaped his lips. With sudden abandon, he began peppering your face with tiny kisses. You flinched and closed your eyes, but Atsushi was clearly beyond the point of caring, kissed you again and again – on your cheeks, along your jaw, upon the tip of your nose and on both eyelids. Then he hesitated, removed your gag, and kissed you on the mouth. 

You inhaled sharply. His lips were dry, his movements clumsy and inexperienced. He grabbed your shoulders and hair, pulling you close with another moan, forcing you to tilt your head back as he almost climbed on top of you in his passion. "[Y/N]," he moaned as he finally pulled away.

"Atsushi," she said quickly, trying to keep the quaver out of your voice, “please stop.”

"I love you." He tried kissing you again, but this time you turned your head to the side. Atsushi whimpered with distress, and craning his own head to catch your lips again.

"Stop," you repeated. "Stop it, please."

"[Y/N], my [Y/N]." He kissed you repeatedly. "I've wanted to do this for such a long time. You're so beautiful, so precious, so alive. You’ll stay with me, won’t you? I’ll keep you here, keep you all to myself. I… I can do that, can’t I?” He pressed his forehead to yours, a contented smile on his face. “You’ll stay here, with me; seeing me, hearing me, touching me, loving me!”

“No!” you cried, trying ineffectually to push him away with her shoulders. "Get away from me!"

"No! I've stayed away far too long! You'll love me, desire me, take care of me – I’ll be your lover, your husband. Aren't I good enough?" There was anger in his last words; he pulled away with a baleful look, hands still picking restlessly at your hair. His eyes were wild, his expression feverish – he had the look of someone utterly consumed by his own desires.

“You can’t be in love with me,” you said, babbling the first thing that came to your mind. “I’m not good enough. There are so many other girls out there who’d love to be with you.”

“Not good enough?” He looked blank. “What do you mean? You’re the most perfect person in the world. You’re nice and sweet and warm and kind – you make me so happy I feel like my heart will burst out of my chest. When I’m with you, I feel safe, like – like I’m home.”

“That’s what you think,” you said. “I’m not as nice as you think I am. I’m lazy and messy, and I have a short temper, and—”

“That’s fine,” Atsushi said cheerfully.  “There’s nothing I can’t deal with, so long as it’s you.” He giggled kissed you again, then began licking you enthusiastically.

You wanted to scream. Tears stung your eyes, throat clogging with panic. Atsushi wrapped his arms around you, pressing you to his chest, and you suddenly shrieked.

“Let me go!” you yelled. “Please, please let me go!”

To your relief, Atsushi pulled away a little, looking abashed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just got carried away there.”

“Let me go.” You tried to inject as much fury as you could into your words. It seemed to work; Atushi wilted a little, pulling away even more. “Atsushi,” you continued quickly, “look, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. You’re a nice guy, but I’m not interested in you that way. Please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell the cops or anything, just let me go.”

You ignored the momentary twinge of remorse as Atsushi wilted a little, a crestfallen spreading across his face. Surely he would come to his senses now. He would realize what he was doing was wrong and would let you–

“No.”

Your heart sank. Atsushi drew up, his expression uncharacteristically grim. “I am not letting you go,” he said. “You are mine, and I’m yours. We’re soulmates, [Y/N], you have to understand that.”

“Atsushi, please.” Your voice cracked as tears rolled down your face. “Please, this can’t work. You can’t keep me like this forever.”

“I can if I have to. I—I’m stronger than I look. I can fight anyone and anything that tries to take you away from me.”

You flinched as he reached for you again, but his time he only wiped away your tears before getting to his feet. Straightening his clothes, he walked stiffly towards the door.

“Atsushi,” you called after him. “Atsushi, please, don’t do this!”

“I’m sorry.” He paused in the doorway, turning back to look at you. You realized with a start that his eyes were brimming with tears as well. “I’ll—I’ll give you some time to get settled in. You’ll see, you’ll be happy with me. I’ll make you happy, I’ll make you as happy as I am with you.”

And before you could counter his words, he strode out of the room, leaving you alone in your misery.

[ca-suffit]

neilcfreak hasn't been seen in the fandom in a *long* time, so kind of fucking weird and obvious that nalyra gets a bait ask (which she knows is a bait ask) saying it *must* be bullying that caused it and listing every way neil was a good person. where tf has neilcfreak been much in the last year? besides a few months ago when she was trying to cover up for white fandom. nobody cares about u girl, nobody is rly sending these asks about u except ur own friends (or u lol).

anyway who wants neilcfreak's racist receipts :)

last year, ao3 was getting called out for never following up with their promises made in the wake of BLM 2020 to better protect users against racist harassment. neil and a black user commented on the same post, the black user replying to neil's comment u can see above of "if u don't like it make ur own site lol."

this white user (futureevilscientist) then random af pulled the asks out and tagged the black user at the start of the post to talk all this shit AT them fsr?

then later, neil shows up herself.

this is the part u cannot *cannot* say is not racist. neil is directly replying to a reblog of *someone else's main post* and placing full blame for a "call out post" on the *black* user.

she then pulls out her white jewish shit to speak over the main topic, which is racism / antiblackness.

playing oppression olympics can be done by any marginalized group but it usually works the best for white ppl because white ppl get the most sympathy when doing this (u want the most shining example, how often are we talking about white gay oppression in this fandom above racism / antiblackness, which is the *actual theme* of the show...or even gay oppression through a black pov, since u see louis experience that constantly. how much are we told that this show is rly about white gays and nothing else?). ppl assume whiteness is more innocent by default so will pile more on a black user for "being aggressive" towards a *white* jewish user without needing any proof. that's what neil was counting on here. she also then had a bizarre, loud breakdown on her account for extra assurance she'd be seen as "the real victim" (for making a stupidly racist comment in public). ohh yeah weaponize those white tears girl. she then "quit" tumblr for a while and when she came back, as mentioned in the linked post above, she had to again mention "drama" for good measure. "remember how I was bullied off this site u guys :("

white fandom was all over her dramatic distraction posts btw (nalyra commented on them too, so she is v aware this happened). v few people reached out to the black user or cared about the shit they were dealing with.

these white fandom ppl *never* have any receipts of bullying either, they just *say* it happens and flock to give hugs so it looks like lots of support is happening for a real "issue." but it's not real. everything they do is meant to manipulate u. this nalyra ask is still doing that.

when ur told what to think about someone or u can't find evidence of things happening beyond what anyone, even a group of ppl, *tells u* is happening then u need to rly remain suspicious of the reality of it.

these are asks that the black user got after this stuff happened. so now we've created a new issue from nothing and we're not talking about racism or how ur bullying a black user over literally nothing anymore. now it's suddenly all about poor neilcfreak and her white jewish identity and victimhood from a big, bad black fan. she's gotta make this all make her look like the real victim to cover up how embarrassed and stupid she felt for being called out on saying racist shit.

this is why white ppl need to understand these abusive techniques and get on ppl's ass when they pull this, not just leave it up to black and brown ppl to do. white fandom will cry all the white tears possible and claim ur talking over a white jewish person, being antisemitic. it's an attempt to emotionally manipulate u, keep talking (think of how often claims of antisemitism are used to shut down anyone being pro palestine, it's the same shit). this is racism. this is weaponizing an identity to cause harm to a black person cuz u were caught saying racist shit and want to deflect. if neilcfreak wasn't a huge racist she'd have *also* called this out and told ppl to stop doing this on her behalf. that would require her pulling her head out of her ass first tho and not sending these anons herself prbly.

I was looking for a different receipt to end on but found this instead, so let's talk about this too since we're here

here's neil after this shit went down, trying to make anne rice all kinds of marginalized identities so ppl can excuse her abusive shit too. she never said she was queer and she never identified as trans. u can't just label ppl shit because stuff they said sounds "close enough." she did enough harm as a cishet white woman can u all fuck off already with wanting to find more excuses for never wanting anyone to criticize this piece of shit.

good riddance, wretched bitch.

[simpcityy]

Hi! :)

Can I request a one shot or head cannons if the spider teens + Miguel (platonic) with a reader who is like jolyne cujoh from Jo-Jos bizarre adventure they are also a spider person I’ll link below jolyne and her stand in case you do pick up this request and don’t know much about either of them

Stone free/stone ocean -> https://jojo.fandom.com/wiki/Stone_Free

Jolyne cujoh/kujo -> https://jojowiki.com/Jolyne_Cujoh

Anyways have a nice day/night :)

My second ever request! It took so long to write this since I was having a hard time, I'm not familiar with Jo-jos Bizarre Adventure but after seeing the amazing color concept and style, it's on my list to watch! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! ( I hope this is what you had mind 😊)

Hobie: 🧷The moment he met you, one thing came to mind. You’re going to be his new partner in crime. The moment he heard about your small crimes you’ve committed since you were young. You would be perfect in his small projects of fighting the government establishment. 🧷 Especially hearing the time you were in a maximum-Security Ward; he definitely wants to help you put more crap into your government establishment in your earth as well. It must have been tough for you, but he salutes you for pushing it through, making you more amazing to him. Heck, he has mad respect for you for taking one for the team knowing you were innocent. He looks at you talking with others, just by the way you look, he wouldn’t have a clue that you went through so much. He definitely wouldn’t mind doing favors for you, he doesn’t believe in taking orders but you’re an exception. 🧷Whenever he finds matching pins, he always hands you the other half. “What’s this? Wouldn’t you give this to Pav?”  “Nah, this suits you more” Would be his excuse, seeing you wear the pins on your suit or bag got him smiling proudly since the pins were pretty much saying ‘fuck the govenment’ and so on. 

Gwen: 🥁Your style is what brought her closer to you before dating you. She wonders if you dyed your hair all by yourself but one thing, she could agree is that your style is pretty cool. She even thinks about growing her hair out to try cool and funky hairstyles like yours. 🥁The first time she talked to you; her first conversation started was. “Can you adopt me?” “What…” Was your only response to her odd question. Gwen has to admit, having you as an older/younger sibling would be so cool and fun.

🥁It kind of happened over time, you two would dye each other's hair and even taught Gwen to do your signature hairstyle on yourself. Motivating the girl to grow her hair out to do a similar style like yours and even dye her hair more to express herself.

Pav: 🍵Once you stepped foot into the HQ, he was asking all sorts of questions. Is your hair naturally like that? What’s your Stands job? How were you bit? So much more that Hobie had to snap him out of it as Pav had his eyes glowing with admiration once you were introduced by Miguel. His friendly and cute behavior is what made you two into the cute couple. 🍵What made you stand out to him was your flashy colors and choice of clothing which he finds so cool. Even the way you fight had a flashy style and overall, he found it amazing how different you are from different spider people. When Pav joined the team for the first time, he felt like he didn’t belong from how different he was but now, he doesn’t feel alone when you joined the team. 🍵 A lot of Chai breaks to gossip the latest romance between the spider-people. He feels so happy to share this little hobby of his. While you get the juicy gossip of what happens when you’re off working. You have to admit, he’s pretty good at being cupid. I mean look how happy you two are with each other.

Miles: 🖌 You are a new inspiration to his book of art. Pages and pages filled with you in different poses, standing, drinking and he even captured some of your fighting poses when you were assigned a mission with him.  When you discover his book laying around at his place, he was having a mental breakdown only to feel stupid for overreacting when you were cool with it and even offer to pose for him to draw different angles. 🖌 Hangouts and dates are mostly consisting in his earth teaching you how to do a mural in some alley wall. It brings him a sense of relief since he used to be taught by his uncle and now, he gets to share moments like this again with someone he cherishes, you and sometimes would take the time to admire your stand from up close. Your stand has their own personal mural of them created by Miles! 🖌 Found a new person who admires his sneaker collection. Seeing the way, you dressed yourself, he introduced you to the whole sneaker world and he has to say, he got you addicted to getting yourself new kicks once a month as a treat for yourself for saving lives. You even got Miles some limited editions from your earth, let's just say, you're the street fashion couple. Miguel (platonic): 🕷️ Miguel finds you troublesome, but he admits one thing to himself that he would never tell anyone not even Lyla, the strength you carry to the team, he admires it. Seeing you always making sure no one comes back injured after a mission. He does scold you for taking all the hits. “Ay niño/ niña! Don’t be the punching doll for others!” It’s like a father scolding their crazy teenager which Lyla always has fun watching the chaos between the two of you. 🕷️ He has many questions like Pav but his are more about your past. He knows how it feels to have a shitty dad so he would always check up on you. How was the mission? Did you eat? The brand sold out your favorite hair dye, come check his earth to see if it’s stocked there. He hates to admit but, he bonded with you over the similarities of childhood trauma. 🕷️He has complained about your clothing choice, and he knows it’s how you express yourself, but his excuse is always, “You’re showing too much skin, Look! “ Comments that every parent worries about their child's safety, Miguel is one of them. Always giving the glare to any of the young spiderlings that get close to you or even lay a hand on your shoulder but in the end, he respects it but he still keeps an eye on anyone who stares at you for too long. As Lyla tells him, “you’re just a single tired father with a punk type, angsty type of teenerager.”

Author notes: THANK YOU I HAVE REACHED 200 FOLLOWERS. Wow, also thank you for loving my I'm not her series, it's the most popular out of all the works I did so far. So, I am working on that. The poll also finished so I will do that 100-follower special as well.

[alex-rambles]

When you were writing, how did you manage to make the characters be like so in character? Especially Bill since he’s such a complex and chaotic character and yet you still managed to write him as in character as possible. I want to write one shots and fanfics and what not but I’m always afraid the characters I write about won’t be really them if that makes sense.

Oh damn you think Bill's in character? Thank you! I've never had other writers ask me for advice (that I can remember)

Well, the simple answer? Write. Immerse yourself in the character in question. It is far easier for me because I spent two years hyperfixated on him, and only spent around the last year publishing anything to do with him.

For things Bill-specific, some general things I keep in mind are the many, many analyses of Bill by @eldragon-x, as well as my own headcanons, and things displayed in the show. In general, Bill is most definitely a "not like other girls" type with an eccentric personality. He's a self-centered man child. He adores the odd, the unusual. And yet despite how much he claims to adore sheer chaos, he plans intricately, and gets mad when his chess pieces aren't where he wants them. Combined with his obvious sadistic streak, this results in him doing bizarre things to distress others ("how 'bout instead I shuffle the functions of every hole in your face?").

Bill wants all his boundaries respected, but everyone else's can just cease to exist for all he cares. "Rules for thee but not for me." He is a hypocrite.

I consider him to be am extremely empathetic individual- who simply prefers to either shove it down, or use his ability for his nefarious purposes. A "dark empath," if you will.

So, if Bill were to fall in love, by extension, although he's still a little freak who likes removing deer teeth, he uses his empathy in a better way- for you. He actually puts effort into working on himself- for you.

Falling in love would be one of the best things to happen to him, because it'd give Bill a real shot at redemption and allow him to become more self aware, and less of a man-child.

Of course yan Bill is completely different. Doesn't try to change. You'll love him in time. Doesn't work on himself, you'll learn to appreciate his red flags flaws. Becomes even worse of a man child, because you're not listening!

But really, find what works for you. As I've said, I went through a phase where I could endlessly consume Bill content, and watch Gravity Falls over and over. I know him like the back of my hand at this point because of how long I would spend researching him, and then writing him.

So write! Write, even if you don't publish it. Write! Go write! Do it!

Anyways, I hope this helps! I'm always open to writing tips, even if I'm not accepting headcanon requests! Always happy to help my fellow writers.

[uwoo97s]

I’LL PUT A SPELL ON YOU ..

witchboy(?)shotaro ! (poc) florist reader

yandere themes (obsession) , jealousy , delulu taro , ft sungchan & jisung , ji & sung condoning shotaro’s behavior , a brief mentions of chenle , incorrect use of magic spells.

published date/221122

HE REMEMBERED LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY — the first time he saw you. how elegant you looked, how pretty your voice sounded as you spoke nothing but soft words to him. oh how the male wished he could hear you speak to him with such tone for eternity.

but that was only in his deepest dreams, he’d be to shy too say anything of such to you out loud. hoping you could get a hint of his feelings through his gestures, which worked in a way(it didn’t.) ? well, in his mind at least because now you were paying more attention to him.

smiling at him every time he walked into the small tavern of a flower shop, letting him receive a hug each time he brought you the flower tulips from down by the pond just a few miles. though you always instated on how he should leave the flowers for the animals, they would need them more than you anyways.

though he loved everytime you hugged him, he always made sure to hug back, hesitation never appearing from him. he’d nuzzle his face slightly in your hair, just to get a sniff of the lavender shampoo you used, it always made your hair smell so nice he really loved it. his hug would always lingering longer than yours, whenever you were ready to pull away, he only pulled you closer not wanting to let you spill from his grasp, which you though of as his friendly abundant nature.

but for him that wasn’t the case. he just didn’t want to let you go. afraid someone would steal you from him, even if you weren’t his. but in his head you were. he even had a whole future planned out for the both of you.

dreaming of you and him in a small cottage not to far from the village and castle, giving you a small garden so you could still do what you loved, and maybe even having a child or two running around and giggling filling the air. he just knew the both of you could, would be happy together.

..

“it’s completely bizarre! outrageous even! why in the hell would she choose to go out with him?” one could say shotaro was enraged, or in better terms jealous. he found it utterly stupid how you could choose that pathetic man, chenle over him. (though he wasn’t really pathetic, but shotaro just has a too big ego) the male found he was much more attractive and eye appealing than the local knight, he’d admit to that any-day without hesitation.

in your eyes you saw chenle for the charming man he is, (which isn’t in anyway or form a lie.) but for the witchboy, things were rather difficult some would say both knight and witch didn’t get along, that came too be odd and a shock for most local towns folk, including yourself when you’d first heard the news. which happened to be at this very second as sungchan was going on about shotaro , while jisung just stood beside him, nodding or shaking his head and letting small “mhm’s” and “uh-uh’s”. (that put you on edge a bit.)

“so you see.. that’s why our local witchboy seems so upset and hasn’t come to visit you (y/n)” Sungchan spoke aloud , as a ending to his little rant. part of you was still in shock the other, was starting to feel bad. if you’d known that before hand maybe things would’ve been different previously.

you hadn’t truly realized shotaro wasn’t fond of chenle. but now that you knew you really hoped he wouldn’t be too upset about the situation, hoping as your friend he would understand your feelings towards the charming knight.

..

“so.. i hope you can understand my feelings taro.. i wasn’t aware of your dislike towards chenle, honest!” and it was nothing but honesty as you spoke to him, you’re hands touching at the small flower in your hair. you were nervous, you didn’t know why. having never felt this way around shotaro but maybe it was the longing silence that filled the air after telling him how you felt.

“hm.. it’s okay (y/n)” he gave you a smile, though it wasn’t one showing off his pearly white teeth. it was a calm smile, a smile that also made you return one to him. after that he gave you a wave before walking off, making up a excuse lie , about having to be with jisung and sungchan for a quest.

when truly he was going back to his cottage home, to do much more. if he couldn’t get your love the hard way, then he’d just get it the easy way, and put a spell on you.

ALL CREDITS BELONG TO uwoo97s

[tubbypeddle]

Jojo's Bizarre Adventures matchup with @graveyard-dash!!

(author's note: I'm so sorry this took forever, i'm going thru an awful burnout phase right now, and almost forgot about this. but I remembered! so here I am! credits to original gif owners, as well, I did not make them.)

I'm so sorry this took so so long 😭

seriously, someone told me I looked happier today, and I told him he must be mistaken bc I've been so drained for the longest time there's no way I look happier than the last time u saw me

Anyway!

let's get into it!

You find yourself wandering around Hong Kong.

It's 1989.

It's scary all by yourself.

Of course, you find yourself in the middle of a battle you had no idea was going to happen.

And you're saved by the man who'd been on fire five minutes ago,

Jean-Pierre Polnareff

You found yourself in the middle of his battle by accident. You followed the noises of commotion, hoping for a story to tell your friends.

Instead, you find this tall Frenchman in some weird battle that you can't really fully make out with some Japanese teenager and an intimidating Muslim man.

He finds you absolutely charming. You're probably not all dressed up, but that's not what draws him in to you. It's not your piercings, or your clothes, or your makeup, or your pretty dark hair.

It's your eyes. There's something in your eyes that reminds him of a life he's always wanted to live out when he was a kid.

A 'happy wife, happy life' kinda life.

It's after the fight that he promises to find you. He has to leave to follow them on their journey to Egypt, but he promises to come back to you, wherever you are.

It's a big scene, dramatic and filled with what you thought were empty promises, however charming he was.

But he keeps to his word.

You've since returned to your home country after touring around Hong Kong, but he still managed to find you. Showed up to your door with a big bouquet of flowers and everything.

Your relationship from there is beautiful.

You're both pretty touchy people. Polnareff likes to have his hands on you whenever he can. An arm around your shoulders, a hand in your back pocket. Just holding hands. He won't ever let you do anything without him hovering behind you.

You're drawing? He probably has his chin hooked over your shoulder, just watching as you draw. (He definitely asks you to draw him)

You're baking? He's right behind you, clinging onto you like a lost puppy.

He stays away while you're cooking though. He's scared of the Gordon Ramsay in you. Absolutely terrified.

You know his saying. 'Happy wife, happy life'. I mean, you're not his wife yet, but you will be. He has no intentions of ever living a life without you, so you'll have to marry him eventually. When he inevitably pops that special question.

The two of you are absolute gossip QUEENS.

Polnareff always has the juiciest tea, since he's started working with the Speedwagon Foundation. He likes to eavesdrop on classified conversations just so he can report back to you.

He used to gossip like this with Sherry all the time, and since finding you, he's just happy he can gossip away without being hardcore judged for it (Kakyoin)

He absolutely adores the gifts you get him. They're always on display somewhere in his house back in France. (To be honest, he probably takes you back to France with him as soon as possible. Sweeps you off your feet back to the city of love)

Tough, be careful, because as soon as he gets that Speedwagon paycheck, he's spoiling you as often as he can. Any little thing that you even look at with any sort of interest, Polnareff will buy it for you. So I hope you have plenty of storage room for his dramatic gifts.

It's absolutely perfect that you find humor to be one of your favorite traits in other people, and yourself.

Because get ready for plenty of laughter in your relationship with him.

He loves telling jokes, and loves making you laugh in any way he can. And he loves that you're the same. Aside from having his hands on you at all times, another requirement for a relationship with him is the laughter.

He's a silly guy. He doesn't mind being the butt of the joke at times, if it means you'll laugh.

-=-=-=-=-=-

again, I literally cannot say it enough, I am so sorry for the ridiculously long wait

i, like, speedran this in the span of two nights bc I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer than you had to

I HOPE YOU LIKED IT

[fangirlwriting-stories]

A Need For Defensive Weapons

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 2, Sam opens up to Danny about something that happened, something he should really remember.

Author's Note:

My Brain: Hey you should continue that Danny Phantom AU

Me: ...Why?

My Brain: I wanna

Me: ...You're not gonna let me stop until the story's done are you

My Brain: Probably not!

Well anyway that whole "this is a one shot" thing didn't even last four days huh

...

Jazz knowing is… weird.

She’s not the most adept at the mechanics of ghost fighting, but after a straightforward talk about it, she lets Danny do most of the main action and backs him up when he asks for it.  And he’ll admit, it’s nice knowing someone will be there to watch his back if he needs it.  Definitely results in less injuries.

But that’s just the very practical reality of Jazz being able to be there when he’s fighting.  There’s other parts of it that are weird too.  For one thing, Jazz is way too terrible at jokes for someone who’s supposed to be related to him.  They really need to work on her banter.  And her knowing looks across the dinner table are a little too obvious for Danny’s comfort.

But honestly, he’s willing to forgo all of it.  Because the other part of it is that he can look at Jazz and be met with a reassuring smile that actually helps him feel at ease.  Or he can talk about ghost fighting freely, as long as they’re sure no one else is around.  He has someone to bounce ideas off of and strategize with, because it turns out Jazz is so much smarter than he’s given her credit for.

It’s a bizarre shift in his normal, but in the end, Danny decides that it’s more good things than bad.  It’s relaxing, having someone to count on.

But it’s also very new, and he’s not sure he feels like he can tell her everything yet.  Knowing he can open up to someone and knowing he can open up to someone are two different things.

He’s also pretty sure Jazz gets that, though, and she’s kept her promise about not pushing him.  He tells her the few things he knows about what happened with Freakshow in short little bursts, and she tells him the things she knows happened while he was gone when he asks, but not otherwise.

This does have some side effects, though.  Mainly being that he comes up with stories that don’t contradict anything in short bursts too, and tells them to Sam and Tucker about as fast.  And while they’re certainly being less harsh with him than they were when he first got back, he can tell it’s starting to irritate them.  Sam, especially.

He doesn’t feel like he can do anything else, though.  And they don’t say anything to him directly, so they all continue to ignore the problem.  Hopefully they can skirt by on that until the problem stops existing and then all move on.

The ghost fighting is slowly picking up again too, and Danny’s starting to have his usual weekly run-ins with Skulker and Technus and the Box Ghost.  It also becomes more and more clear that Amity Park is no longer a fan of Danny Phantom.

Well, granted, they haven’t been a fan of him for a while, but now it’s significantly worse.  It’s a lot harder to find places to hide and go ghost, and a lot of the times Jazz has to cover for him, especially when he’s with Sam and Tucker.  (Another reason he’s glad he told her, actually.)

On the other hand, one thing that definitely hasn’t gotten easier is hearing how Sam and Tucker talk about Phantom now.

It’s not like they were necessarily huge fans of his ghost half before.  If anything, they seemed indifferent.  They brought him up when ghost fights happened near them, which wasn’t always, and they never really had much to say beyond commenting on how that fight move had been cool, or that ghost had been scary, or something along those lines.

But now…

“Okay it’s lunchtime and not after school in the library so you can’t stop me,” Sam snaps as Danny approaches their usual table, late after a detour to fight some ghosts nearby.

He blinks at Sam, feeling like he’s missed the beginning of a conversation.  “What?”

“I need to vent and you can’t stop me!” Sam snaps.

Danny blinks again, and turns to Tucker, who gives him a ‘don’t mess with her’ look.

“Uh, okay?” Danny says, sitting down next to Sam.

“Great!” Sam says, not seeming at all calmer now that Danny’s agreed, and instead turning back to Tucker with an angry gaze.  “Anyway, I need to talk about Invis-O-Bill.”

Oh, great.

“First of all,” Sam says, pointing at Tucker like they’d had this conversation before.  “He has a really stupid name.”

“Ugh, he wouldn’t if people would just—” Danny stops, takes a deep breath, and gestures at Sam.  “Whatever.”

Sam stares at him for a couple seconds, then seems to brush it off and turns back to Tucker.  “But more importantly, I cannot stand his attitude!  You can’t just flip back and forth on a dime between villain and hero and expect people to roll with the punches!  What’s that all about?”

“What’s up with you being so caught up in it?” Danny asks despite himself, managing to hold himself back from glaring at her.  “You never cared about him before.”

“Yeah well he hasn’t been everywhere before!” Sam snaps, glaring the other way.

“So what, you don’t like him because he’s mainstream now?”

“What?  No!” Sam says, turning to glare at him.

“Okay,” Tucker says, leaning in between them.  “Take a breath.  We’re all friends here.”

Danny sighs and looks away.  “Sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam mutters, looking down at her food.  “I just— I guess it all just has me a little on edge.”

“There have been a few more ghosts lately,” Danny says, though he hasn’t actually seen too much of an uptick.  “You know, if you want, I might be able to convince my parents to let you come over and I could show you how to use some ecto weapons.”

“I… think I’ll take you up on that,” Sam says, which Danny isn’t expecting.  She’s shown total disinterest in ghost fighting before.

“Uh, sure,” he says anyway, because he’s not going to take it back when he was the one who offered.  “You can ride home with Jazz and I today.”

“You sure your parents will let you do that?” Tucker asks.

Danny laughs a little.  “Sure.  All I have to do is say ‘hey guys Sam wants to learn to fight ghosts’ and they’d practically let her move in.”

“Heh, yeah I could believe that,” Sam says with a small smile of her own.

So, after their hour doing homework in the library (Danny is actually making progress, about halfway caught up now), Sam rides home with him and Jazz.  Just like Danny expected, his folks are totally cool with it, and he takes Sam down to the lab to show her some of the ecto weapons.  He just barely manages to talk his dad out of coming along, with a little help from Jazz.

“Okay,” Danny says, feeling more than a little awkward as he leads Sam down to the lab.  He tends to steer clear of ghost stuff with Sam and Tucker for obvious reasons.  “We’ve got a cabinet full of weapons in the back.”

“Cool,” Sam says, turning immediately to look for it.  Danny walks over and she follows close, seeming more than a little eager.

He gives her a look, and Sam smiles, but there’s nerves there.

“Are… you okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Nothing!  It’s nothing!  Just ready to get started!”

Danny looks at her for a second longer, then shrugs it off and turns back to the cabinet, unlocking it and pulling it open.  “So, you’ll probably want to stick with blasters if you’re just looking for defensive weapons,” he says.  “A small one you can keep in your pocket would be best.”

“Can they be used as offensive weapons?” Sam asks.

“Well, I guess technically,” Danny says, glancing over at her curiously.  “That’s not how I tend to use them.”

“Since when do you use them?”

“Uh, well you’d be surprised how often ghosts come up on family vacations,” Danny says, turning back to the cabinet.  “Okay, I’ve got some wrist rays, lazer lipstick, and a couple smaller handheld blasters.  Any of those sound good?”

“I’ll take the wrist ray,” Sam says, holding out her hand.

“Sure,” Danny says, picking one up and passing it over.  “Those are pretty simple.  You just aim and shoot by pressing the button.”

Sam straps it to her wrist and immediately turns and aims at the opposite wall, pressing the button.  A green beam shoots across the room and blasts a beaker into bits.

“Woah, watch it Sam!” Danny calls, reaching out and pulling her arm back.  “I have to clean that up, you know!”

Sam seems to shake herself, and turns back to Danny.  “I— sorry.  Just testing it.”

“Well we have a perfectly good backyard to test it in,” Danny says.  “You can shoot at some grass or some dandelion fluff.”

Sam looks down and fidgets with the strap on her wrist.  “Yeah,” she says.  “Okay.”

Danny pauses and takes her in.  She’s tense, and her shoulders are hunched like she’s looking for a threat.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out and putting a hand on her arm.  She relaxes a little and turns to look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asks.  “You seem really nervous.  And since when do you want to learn how to fight ghosts anyway?”

“It’s nothing,” Sam snaps, glaring down at the ground.  “You wouldn’t get it anyway, since you don’t stick around enough to know what’s going on.”

Danny winces.

But a second later, Sam sighs.  “No, I’m sorry, that’s not fair,” she says, turning to him with a guilty look.  “It’s really not your fault, and I should stop talking like it is.  Even if it’s still totally crazy that you’re not telling anyone what actually happened.”

Danny is quiet for a minute.  “Did… did something happen to you?” he asks hesitantly.

Sam fiddles with the strap and doesn’t meet his eyes.

Crud.  Something did happen.  Something happened and he wasn’t here to protect her—

“So uh,” Sam says, still not looking at him.  “You know how the last place you said you were going before you were… well, you know, was Circus Gothica?”

“Uh…” Danny wracks his brain and comes up with a vague blurry memory of ditching Sam and Tucker in the library, finding Lancer waiting outside, and overshadowing him to lock him in a broom closet.  “Yeah?”

“Well, Tucker and I followed you,” Sam says.  “We were trying to find out what your deal was.  We never found you, but we did find Freakshow and that Invis-O-Bill guy.”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny says, looking away.  “Following you so far.”

“Well, um.”  Sam takes a deep breath.  “So Freakshow tells me he hasn’t seen you and leaves the tent, and I’m about to follow when Invis-O-Bill shows up and grabs me.”

Danny’s heart drops into his stomach, and he spins back to Sam.  “What?”

“And he puts me up on the highwire,” Sam says, clenching her hands into shaking fists while still glaring at the floor.  “With no net.  And then cuts the wire. If Freakshow hadn’t caught me when I fell I would have died.  He tried to kill me.”

Danny can’t breathe.  “I di— he did?  I don’t— I don’t remember that.”  Why can’t he remember that?

“No, like I said, you were gone already,” Sam says with a sigh, like it’s not a big deal.  “I just, then he just shows up again last week like nothing’s happened and goes back to fighting that stupid ghost with all the boxes, whatever the heck his name is.  I just… I couldn’t take it.”  She looks down at her wrist.  “So I… I think I’ll feel a lot better if I’ve got something to defend myself with, you know?  If he or any other ghost tries to mess with me again.”

“Sure,” Danny says, trying to talk past the sudden lightheadedness.  He hopes his face looks even marginally appropriate for the situation.

Sam looks up at him, and he tries to focus on her and not his racing heartbeat.  “Hey, I— I’m sorry,” she says.  “I know I’ve been kind of snappy lately.  I think I’m just on edge, you know?”

Then, without any warning, she reaches out and wraps her arms around him.  “But I’m really glad you’re okay,” she says, while Danny goes back to staring at the floor and trying to force his breathing to cooperate.  “And I… I’m sorry I got so mad at you when you first showed up again.  It really wasn’t your fault.  I mean, obviously.  I can’t fault you for actually getting kidnapped.”

“It’s okay,” Danny manages.  “I’m fine.  I uh— I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sam pulls back, seeming slightly surprised.  “Oh, okay.  Meet you in the backyard?”

Danny nods and turns to practically run up the stairs.  He doesn’t stop until he reaches the bathroom, then slams and locks the door.  He leans back against it and slides to the floor, burying his head in his knees.

Breathe, you’re fine, nothing permanent happened, Sam’s fine, everything’s fine.

It’s fine.

…

“Alright!” Danny calls, opening the back door with a bang that’s maybe a little too loud, but that doesn’t stop Sam from turning to him with a smile.  “So let’s teach you how to shoot some grass with a wrist ray!”

...

Chapter Two

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 365: That was Then, This is Now, p17

“Do we really have to do this?” I asked. At her insistence I was buckling myself in to the passenger seat of her BMW that Monday afternoon. We’d just finished work. 

“Yes, we do,” Melissa replied, checking to make sure her seat was back as far as it could go. It was. And she’d already adjusted mine, upwards. “Sheryl was nice enough to not throw away the extra clothes of yours she found,”

“They’re not going to fit me anyway…”

“Regardless,” she continued, starting the ignition and scooting herself down as much as she could; her head still brushed the ceiling, “she texted me. I told her I’d come by and pick them up.”

“And she’s home?” I asked, the discomfort of the idea of seeing my ex-wife like creeping spiders over my skin, “tonight?”

“Yep.” I could tell Melissa was a little annoyed at my continued complaints. She pulled out of her reserved parking space.  “We’re going to go get your clothes so I can keep some at my place-“

“They’re not going to fit…”

“…and then I’m going to make you dinner at home. Okay?”

“And then…?”

“Yes, fine,"  she sighed in an exaggeratedly exasperated voice, "I’ll take you back to your apartment. The locksmiths should be done by then, and Lakshmi was going to clean for you.” She was looking both ways, to pull out into traffic. 

“Okay, thank you.” I knew I was being annoying, but I’d had a tough - uh - day I suppose. There’d been the near-assault by Morgan thing, the video-chat stuff with Gianna, and the shock of the virtual walk-through of the new offices. Then, of course, finding my apartment had been broken into by some unknown assailant. God, I didn't even want to think about that, not to mention the bizarre dream-thing I’d had when I passed out from all the stress I’d been under. And, that was just today!  All before lunch! 

I didn’t even know where to begin with the blur of humiliation that was this past weekend, not like I could remember most of it. The whole weekend was shrouded in this weird pink fog when I tried to recall it, and I could only bring up bits and pieces of it. Honestly I’m not sure I even wanted to remember.

It was all too much. These recent elections, losing a full foot in height, and being so anxious, tired, and constantly, unbearably horny. What was happening to me? Would it ever stop? And, the scariest thought, one that I didn’t even like to consider myself was: did I even want it to stop?

I glanced at Melissa, who was peering down the road to her left, waiting for her chance to pull out. My eyes settled on the profile of her big right tit, which was stretching the top of her white dress thin. I could just make out the outline of her blue bra below it, and it really made me appreciate how big she’d become. I bit my lip, shifted my thin hips in my seat.

I took a deep breath.

Looking at her always made me feel better. My god my girlfriend was gorgeous. Even without the massiveness of the marvels that were her breasts, her waist was tiny, arms athletically strong, legs outrageously long and thick with shapely muscle. They were all perfect, she was absolutely, utterly physically perfect. Her skin was flawless, neck long and elegant, her waves of dark hair thick and luscious, made for a shampoo commercial. It was all…perfect. 

I tore my eyes away just as she turned back. I’d, unconsciously, nearly started stroking myself, through my scrubs. No time for that. Focus, buddy.

Finally, she drove the car out of the lot, and started heading for the highway. “Now, remind me, Jay sweetie, how do we get there again?”

“I’m, uh, it’s North on 82…” I began, suddenly feeling strangely disoriented, “…I think.” I blinked, three times, and tried to remember…

Twenty minutes later we were finally in the right neighborhood. I’d told her the wrong exit, having strangely forgotten it myself, and now I’d, um…gotten us lost. How could I forget the way back to my own (former) home?? I’d driven that route nearly every day for the better part of a decade! I tried, I really did, to direct us, to recognize landmarks, take the right turns onto the right streets, but it was like it’d been erased from my brain! I blamed it on stress. I mean what else could it be? Thankfully she’d been patient with me, actually laughing a bit, amused by my confusion and consternation with myself. You actually like this, don’t you? That my life before you is disappearing?

It was really upsetting to me, but she was getting a kick out of it. Finally, though, she pulled over and plugged everything into her car’s GPS and allowed its confident female voice to direct us to my-…I mean to Sheryl’s house. 

And so that’s how I found myself hunkered down in my seat as we pulled in the front of the house, parking on the street. I didn’t want my old neighbors or, even worse, Sheryl to see me in this diminished, pathetic state with this enormous, bosomy girl.

To my left Melissa rose up out of the car and, standing, asked me one last time if I wanted to come with. I shook my head in an emphatic “no” and scooted even further down in my seat. She gave me a look, a wry little smile, and closed her door. I watched her come around the front of the car, to the curb, and head up the front walk. Seeing her Amazonic figure - fluidly striding, hips swinging in her taut sheath of a white dress -  in my ex-front yard was unnerving, strange. It brought back memories of early on: her bike-ride visit, when we barely knew one another. How long ago was that? I’d been out raking, right? Tending to my yard. My house. Where I’d lived. 

I stopped to remind myself: That was then, buddy, this is now. Something told me it was important that I accept that. 

I scooted down further still when, after Melissa had rang the bell, the front door began to open. Sheryl! I could just barely make her out in the doorframe, her lithe figure appearing to greet Melissa leaving both women silhouetted by the light from inside the house. It was already late afternoon, early evening really, and the sun was half-set. Sheryl had a box behind her - likely my clothes - and the two women were chatting away. Despite their complicated relationship - my ex-wife was technically the employer of my new, statuesquely bosomy, too-young girlfriend - their body language was easy, relaxed. They’d even hugged in greeting and were laughing now about something.

It was then that I saw Sheryl - shorter than Melissa by over a foot - look around her to glance out towards the car, towards me. 

Agh! I scooted down even further, sliding deep into my seat, absolutely mortified. I did not want to be seen, especially by her. My face washed hot, my heart racing, and I could feel my anxiety overtake me. 

I-I’ll just sit here. I won't move. I’ll just stare straight, and wait it out. They can’t talk TOO long, can they? What would they have to talk about?? I’ll just wait until Melissa comes back and-

<rap rap rap!>

My heart leapt, I looked up. Sheryl!! Tapping on my window!!

Sheepishly, I looked up at her from the passenger's seat. I was so short - less than five feet tall, now - and felt even smaller still in my ignominy, scrunched down like I was. I remained very still. Maybe if I didn’t move she would go-

<tap tap tap!>

From the other side of the window she tapped the glass again as she  waved down at me, lit up by a smile which beamed an atypical warmth. She always had a big, big smile but holy crap what’s happened to her chest?!? She was dressed casually, in jeans and an old red college tee I recognized, but I’d never seen the white V-A-S-S-A-R across the chest stretched like that across her chest. She’d had implants, modest ones, all throughout our marriage. They’d originally been a commiserative nod to my, uh, proclivities. But…had she had them recently replaced? Now she had knockers! And they were, well, not nearly in league with my new girlfriend’s but - really big!

Paralyzed by my abject embarrassment, I waved up at her and managed a mortified little smile. What was I supposed to do?? Open the door? Say hi? Oh my god I couldn’t let her see me like this! Well, my decision was made for me when the window, under its own power, began to come down. 

“Hi down there!” Sheryl immediately beamed. It incited me to sit up a bit and I now saw Melissa, box of clothes in her arms, playing with her key-fob and heading towards the trunk. She’d obviously lowered the window for Sheryl, so we could chat. Great. 

“H-hi, Sheryl,” I stammered. Jesus lord fuck this was weird, but I was going to do my best. I sat up straighter still, but not all the way; with the window now fully down that would have put my face right at the underside of my ex-wife’s new breasts. So, I stayed half-scrunched for modesty, but I did manage a smile. And, goddammit, the beginnings of a new erection.

“How’ve you been?” she asked, as I heard the car’s trunk pop behind us. She was peering down, and now leaned forward to rest her hands in the frame, so she could better see me - and I could better see her tits. 

My gut roiled, knowing how small and pathetic I must look to her, squirming here in the passenger seat of my Office Manager’s luxury car, shrunken and pale and weak. Humiliated by the events, the divorce, the election results, I knew my ex-wife was looking down at a man whose life had crumbled and was now being run entirely by the women around him. I don’t know how much satisfaction she was getting out of it, but in comparison to her new life of growing wealth, power and influence mine had become a small, piteous thing, still sinking and shriveling by the day. I’d wronged her, and now I was paying for it. Somehow, though, I managed a brave answer. 

“I’m okay,” I said. I glanced past her hips. She was wearing an old pair of faded jeans, the ones she’d usually use for housework. They looked especially nice on her today. “The yard looks good.”

<slam> The trunk closed behind me. 

“Yeah without you around I’ve had to hire someone for the gardens. Fall clean-up and all,” she answered, turning back to look over her shoulder at the front yard for a moment, but then back down towards me. “So, how’s the apartment working out?” 

Again, the coils of humiliation tightened in my gut. Despite her easy smile, Sheryl was reminding me that I was still dependent on her, living on her property for free, still working at her company by her good graces. I was her parasite, clinging to its powerful ex-wife for life. She knew it, and she wanted to see that I knew it, too. 

The driver’s side door opened again and Melissa got back in. Suddenly I was trapped between two most powerful women in my life. My erection, under Sheryl’s presence, had grown only harder but now it surged up, nearly making me double over as it obviously wanted the attention of them both.

“Omigosh Sheryl! I didn't tell you, he got broken into! Here, Jay sweetie, sit up,” Melissa answered for me as she sat me back up and refastened my seatbelt, which had come undone with all my wriggling. If she noticed my boner down the left thigh of my thin pants (how could she not, especially with her chest squashing into my shoulder and causing it to absolutely heave) she made no reaction. “Over the weekend! They broke right in!”

“Oh that’s terrible!” Sheryl exclaimed, sounding honestly sympathetic but speaking now directly to Melissa, right over me, “Do you know who did it?”

“No, not yet,” she answered, “I have the girls looking into it.”

“Are you alright?” Sheryl said, her attention now back on me as she placed her hand onto my right shoulder. She was looking down at me, head cocked, nothing but sincere concern in her voice. “Were you hurt?”

“No, he was with me,” Melissa answered candidly, her right hand coming to rest on my left shoulder, her left hand on my left knee, “So he’s fine. Some of his furniture was broken, plates and things too. The door was broken, a few cabinets too. But they really didn’t take much.”

From what I heard, they just took my pillow, and my toothbrush…and all of my, uh, underwear.

“Well, we’ll get the repairs done right away, right?” Sheryl assured, and then softened her voice for me. “Do you need money?” she asked, pulling in closer. I recognized the scent of her shampoo. .

My face flushed. Yes, I was broke. Yes, without the help of others I would have trouble recovering from what had happened to my apartment. But the thought of taking money from Sheryl was-

“No, thank you that’s so kind but he’s fine,” Melissa answered, squeezing my knee possessively, “I give him an allowance.” 

Oh jesus. I was too chastened, too humiliated to even argue. And goddamnit my cock - the sick fuck - loved it, surging again, loved having a six-foot-seven sugar-mama.

“Oh, well that’s good,” Sheryl conceded, “but please please please reach out to me if he needs anything, okay Melissa?”

Sheryl, my ex-wife, was a trained attorney, a skilled negotiator and could - for as long as I’d known her -  remove herself emotionally from whatever it was when it served her purpose. I had, to be truthful, wronged her all throughout our nearly thirteen years of marriage with various affairs. So, despite the sympathetic tone in her voice I couldn’t help but think: you love this don’t you? Though I may have actually heard a little honest sincerity in her voice.

The girls bonded as they chatted for a bit, specifics of my ‘care’. It was frankly emasculating as they talked right over me, each moment becoming more humbling than the last.  Melissa assured Sheryl that I was, in fact, eating, that I was sleeping okay, and that I was drinking enough water. All things I could easily tell her myself.

Sheryl, for her part, somehow seemed to know quite a bit about what I’d been up to. The Halloween party, my fall in the pool, our last few dates. Maybe she was stalking us all on social media? That didn’t seem quite like her. But…

“So, I saw the videos from this weekend of you online,” she said, now deigning to speak directly to me. Her question pulled me from my irritation. “You’re famous now, huh?”

Wait what?

“Wait what?” I asked. What did she mean? “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Oh, haha, yes!” Melissa laughed, shaking my leg again by the knee, “He’s broken his phone, and maybe hasn’t seen all that…”

What the hell is she talking about?

“wh-what the hell are you talking about??” I stammered, now actually getting nervous.

“...but it’s pretty funny…” Melissa continued, moving her hand to squeeze my thigh and - nnnnngh! - my erection at the same time.

Stars danced in front of my eyes.

“...I’ll show you later, hun,” she concluded, now sitting back straight up and - “ow haha!” -- bumping her head on the car’s ceiling.

I’d started to roll up the window, but Sheryl’s hand came to it to stop it, about a third of the way up. 

“Omigosh haha Melissa this car’s too small for you!” Sheryl exclaimed, stating the obvious. She saw how my girlfriend’s legs were long, her torso barely folding into this little 2-series coupe. “You should just buy another,” she added, “Go ahead and use the company card.”

Ugh, crap, whhhuttt…?

“Oh! WOw! Thank You!!” Melissa laughed, turning back toward her, pinning my cock once again to my thigh with her hand in the process. Nngh!! Her pretty mouth was agape at my ex-wife’s cunning generosity. “Are you sure??”

Yes, I’d said Sheryl was maybe showing her sympathetic side today, but apparently she could still be an asshole. “Haha yes of course no problem, you deserve it, I know how hard you’ve been working,” she continued, her smile gleaming white now in the sunset’s developing dusk, “plus it’s you, I guess, that partly I have to thank for these new boobs.” 

At that, Sheryl straightened up, standing just enough so that her big breasts squished into the partly-raised car window. “V-A-S-S-A-R” spread across the glass.

urk! 

I felt my cock nearly burst through my scrub pants, In Melissa’s hand.

The two girls started laughing sharing a moment together as they said their goodbyes over my new mortification. Melissa mercifully lifted her hand off my erection as I thanked the gods that she turned the car on and after a few more niceties we were on our way. 

I squirmed in my seat, even as we pulled off down my old street. That whole scene had been a bit much for me. 

Melissa saw I was uncomfortable, and pulled over near a group of old pines. “Omigod Sheryl’s so nice, isn’t she?” she asked, unclipping her seat belt and turning back towards me. Immediately her hands went down and started untying my scrub bottoms.

“Uh- M-Melissa?”

“Shhh its okay…let me do this for you…”

I shuddered, as she pulled me out. We could easily get caught by a passerby, an ex-neighbor, but despite that I closed my eyes and let the moment take me. Just like she wanted. Times like this, usually, my mind would fade to blank, and my anxieties would start to fade, but one thought stuck with me…

What did Sheryl mean? I mused silently, even as Melissa leaned down across the center console, her huge head of hair slowly engulfing my lap, ‘I have you to thank for these new boobs...?

==============================================

thanks oodles to @societytopographic for helping me with the Sheryl image, and of course my editor-in-residence and co-conspirator ResistanceIsFutile on the copy

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

PARAMOUNT PLUS KNUCKLES WOOOOOOOOO

Spoilers obviously!

Episode 1 thoughts: writing is kind of annoying, and I don't think I like this version of Knuckles that much - his proper arc in the movie was good but divorced from that context this is basically just idiot meathead Knuckles pushed in another direction entirely. Wade isn't funny or entertaining. Sonic's model looks worse than it did before, the forehead wrinkles are so offputting. I feel like they fucked their own lore weirdly - the second movie showed the literal founding of G.U.N. in this continuity and yet their headquarters are based in London and they're apparently already big enough to have double-agents within them working to support criminals. G.U.N. just didn't feel like such a big thing in the second movie is all, but now they are with no fanfare. Also they've acquired both warp rings and Knuckles' quills from ???? so hmmm. I'm definitely approaching this too much as an adult out to nitpick rather than remembering that this is for kids and it doesn't matter when G.U.N. became so prominent or how and when they got their hands on X macguffin, but idk I feel like the first 2 movies were paying some degree of attention to stuff like that so this just sticks out to me.

Episode 2 thoughts: actually not just Wade but I think nobody is funny or really all that entertaining to watch. I don't think the Sonic movies are great or anything but this feels aggressively like we're just going through the motions. I need a hero scene was kind of torture. I appreciate Knuckles gliding anyway since that's one of those things that's acknowledged surprisingly little despite being a core part of his gameplay in every playable appearance he's had.

Episode 3 thoughts: my favourite so far on the sheer absurdity of a lonely Jewish mother whose husband left the family and whose kids hate each other finding solace and comfort in Knuckles the Echidna and teaching him about Judaism

Episode 4 thoughts: absolutely indescribable experience. felt like a high budget fan parody. I was juggling so many feelings through my head while watching, reaching each end of the quality spectrum - this is both incredibly kino and also one of the worst things to ever grace the Sonic franchise. one must actively sever any interest in pretending this is something that should be taken seriously in order to enjoy it, although in doing so one must also acknowledge that the Knuckles show on paramount plus is now but a joke. the same Sonic movie franchise that rejuvenated public interest in the franchise has also birthed unto us a mockery of everything the series has ever stood for. Wade Whipple stole a kid's bicycle and chopped off a man's ponytail with a katana before then forcing that man to undress.

Episode 5 thoughts: this is straight up more enjoyable when consumed as a bizarre and surreal anthology but with a continual plot wherein the anthology part of it is just what is gonna be the directorial fetish of the episode. in this case it's several instances of shots being split across comic-style panelling or the same frame repeated in grid-patterns across the screen, things like that. that type of shot for bowling for 10 minutes and then a heartwarming emotional reunion with an estranged father turned heartwrenching as Jewish mother recounts the fact that he hurt us before and he's going to do it again. I almost forgot I was watching a Sonic the Hedgehog show until the bad guys showed up and reminded us that Knuckles the Echidna does actually exist in the show named after him. I'm starting to think this show is seriously worth watching entirely because it's so ludicrously detached from its source material and absurd in everything else it chooses to depict. The dialogue is so unnatural it's hilarious. Everybody has a certain voice they're doing for the camera and it's all super exaggerated. Wade actually betrays Knuckles in the end and I'm about to watch the last episode to see what happens.

Episode 6 thoughts: I think this show is incredible

Overall thoughts!

I don't even know how to succintly put into words how much fun I was having with this by the end. And I do mean by the end - you can see the progression of my enjoyment after each episode in this post itself - but it really is kind of slow and annoying to start until it eventually reaches such a level of absurdity that I turned off Sonic fan brain and turned on "I want to laugh at batshit insane media" brain. Once it got to that point though I was so fucking invested that I was feeling everything. I wanted Wade to start throwing bowling balls at the buyer so fucking bad and he did. The electric guitar kicking in when Knuckles powered back up and became the flames of disaster or whatever was the most excited I've been watching anything in a while. The juxtaposition between a serious emotional tale about broken families and standing up against those who have hurt you versus Wade Whipple in a Knuckles costume having a musical performed at him about the strength of the heart or whatever is immaculate.

I feel like this show was greenlit and allocated a budget before they actually decided anything they wanted to do with it so they just wrote some vague story outline and handed each episode off to a different director to see what they could come up with. The few who played it a little more safe, kid's action show type thing, didn't really offer much. But the ones who decided to have fun with it and just not even care about the source material, those are the ones that turned out really fun.

I will acknowledge right now obviously that none of that is exactly praise from the lens of a Sonic fan. This isn't good at being Sonic in any way, it's not even good at being part of the separate and standalone Sonic movie continuity either. Calling it disrespectful to the source material is an understatement and even the times where it decides to pull from what it's adapting you get absolutely bizarre errors like the Flames of Disaster being singularly attributed to Knuckles just for the hell of it. This should not be thought of as a serious attempt at telling a story within any Sonic the Hedgehog setting. This is a high budget parody that, through circumstances we'll never quite know, is also an officially licensed and endorsed Sonic the Hedgehog product. It's the worst Sonic adaptation ever. It's also so fucking entertaining and I would honestly recommend it to just about anyone. I'm literally already lining up a rewatch with some friends. It's so fucking fun. Like there's an element of irony and there's an element of so bad it's good and perhaps all of this is birthed by that and me being in a state of "I just finished something absurd and need to process it so I'm just yelling" but as a lifelong diehard Sonic fan who yearns for nothing more than good quality Sonic content I had more actual fun with this than almost any other Sonic adaptation period. This shit, my friends, is kino. And Wade Whipple is my new favourite Sonic character.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Scritches

Another one from Season of the Witch.

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there.

ACCESS: RESTRICTED DECRYPTION KEY: L5F2H8AG12$IKO-006 REP#: 093-ATHENAEUM-DERELICT-AUDIO AGENT(S): AUN-326 SUBJ: VIP#1316 AND ERI-223 INTERACTIONS - SCRITCHES

RECORDING 81379.0 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“Hey Moondust, I been meaning to ask you something.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“It’s an invasive and highly personal question.”

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

“I don’t know. Don’t wanna actually offend you.”

“You offend me on a routine basis and delight in telling me how much you enjoy doing so. What is one more irritation? Speak.”

“The chitin. Does it itch?”

“What?”

“The chitin…”

“I heard you. Your ability to come up with the most unexpected and irrational things to be curious about never ceases to impress.”

“Well, does it?”

“When it first bursts from my flesh it is very painful. Each transformation is agony. But it is much like an extreme version of picking off a scab. It is… satisfying, in a way. When I first transform there are bits of my own viscera splattered on my exoskeleton. They dry. And then yes, once they dry, they do itch.”

“I remember this crocodile I knew once. Or maybe it was a alligator. I don’t know the difference. Badass fella in a swamp near where I lived at the time. I kept chickens and fed him some every once in a while, but not often. Didn’t want him getting too comfy, but I liked having him around. He had a bad temper and served as some unofficial extra security. Also garbage disposal, long as you broke the garbage’s legs first.”

“Hmmm…”

“Anyway, I was sweeping the front of my place this one time and he waddled up in a ‘I’m a giant lizard, watcha gonna do, gimme some chicken, or I’ll take a chunk offa you’ sorta mood. And I was also in a mood… a mood to not be putting up with that crocogator’s shit that day when he’d gone and tracked mud all over my porch, so I swept him.”

“You what?”

“I took the broom and I swept him. Like he was the floor.

I pushed pretty hard cuz he was all caked in half-dried mud and I swept the mud right offa him cuz he’d tracked it all over half my floor and he was just gonna track it all over the rest of the floor too if I didn’t do something about it.

And here’s the thing: He loved it. He loved it more than chicken. Got to the point where any time he’d hear me sweeping my front porch I’d hear a splash farther away in the swamp and he’d come up and lie in the sun, demanding I sweep him. I think he just itched all the time and that was the only time he got scritches.

That was a thing for years, that crocogator and I. Dunno what ever happened to him. I had to relocate rather quickly one day, as one does when one is in the line of work I have tended to find myself in over the years. I came back decades later and he was gone.

But the point of this story is, I know you’ve been a bit shy about being all chitin-y near me but like.. what if one day I brought a stiff brush and a bit of soapy water and just… scrubbed yer dried viscera off yer chitin for ya? I bet it’d feel nice. Soothe the itch.”

“I… I do not know how to respond to that.”

“You could just say yes.”

“No.”

“Aww…”

“However, the idea that you have clearly given this considerable thought is… bizarrely touching. You really are full of surprises.”

“Offer’s always open if you ever change your mind.”

“Hmmm…”

[END TRANSCRIPT]