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

[seven-saffodils]

.

#my reading for class is discussing how whiteness is seen as neutral in the US while other races are seen as races #and i was thinking abt ppl using the yellow vs skin-toned emojis #(i'd rather use the yellow ones bc imo asserting whiteness as race can come off as white supremacist-y) #(but i'd love to read discussions of it from POC) #anyway then i was remembering this bizarre thing that happened when i was working with the bakery #i was assigned the task of taking inventory on the loaves we'd baked in a day and sending that amount to the number-cruncher #i've now forgotten her name #and she always sent me the dark-skinned thumbs-up to indicate that she'd gotten my numbers #which i was so pleased by bc everyone i'd met at the company was white #(cincinnati is 40% Black for context) #i was the only jewish person #i felt like she and i were secret allies against the overwhelming WASPiness of the company #i never said anything bc i didn't want to be weird #but it was a nice parasocial thing so i didn't feel so alone among all the normative whites #anyway i finally meet her one time when i'm at the main location #AND SHE WAS WHITE TOO!! #the /betrayal/ #they finally hired two latina women later on so at least there was that #we got to share culturally specific stories it was great #but i'm still haunted by this woman #why did she use the dark-skinned emoji??? #food mention

[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!

#terusai #saiki x teruhashi #saiki kusuo #teruhashi kokomi #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #sknpn #the disastrous life of saiki k. #tdlosk #nopsi meta #can you imagine if your boring lil high school crush was basically Jesus when YOU thought you were God's gift to humanity?? hsfjdlshfks BRUH

[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. 🦉

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma #Higuruma Hiromi #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #Hiromi jjk #jujutsu Higuruma #jujutsu Hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #higuruma headcanons

[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

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#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight headcanons #moon boys #tw food #tw drinking

[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.

#better bones au #BB!Po3 #So a LOT comes out of this moment. A LOT.

[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.

#yandere bsd #yandere atsushi nakajima #yandere imagines #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #yandere

[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.

#miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #father figure miguel ohara #miguel ohara x platonic reader #answered asks #miles molares #miles morales x y/n #gwen x reader #astv hobie #hobie x y/n #pavitr x reader #pavitr x you #ATSv Headcannons

[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.

#alex writes #kind of #billposting #bill cipher x reader #gravity falls x reader #yandere gravity falls x reader #yandere bill cipher x reader #idk I shoved some headcanons in here so I'll put it on the writing tags

[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

#nct u #nct #nct fanfic #sungchan #nct jisung #osaki shotaro #nct imagines #yandere nct #yandere kpop #x reader #x black!reader #kpop ff #kpop imagines #nct shotaro #kpop x reader #shotaro x reader #osaki shotaro x reader

[fangirlwriting-stories]

A Need For Defensive Weapons

Summary: 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

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #no one knows au #my fic

[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

#growing into the job

[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.

#sonic #28.4.24 #knuckles spoilers #paramount knuckles spoilers #paramount knuckles #knuckles series #knuckles series spoilers

[agathaharkness-simp]

random robin buckley headcanons yea (ft. ronance and platonic stobin)

(i also projected extremely on her btw, it’s not my fault her whole personality is also mine)

- so we all agree that robin is at least neurodivergent right? anyways robin has so many rings and stuff to stop herself from picking at skin/nails. they don’t work as a distraction all the time but it’s better than having her fingers covered bandaids 24/7. steve would notice sometimes and give her something to occupy her hands or, if they’re someplace where they can’t goof around, he’ll let her play with his hands.

- robin loves having inside jokes with people but absolutely hates when she doesn’t understand other peoples inside jokes.

- robin is an abba lover.

- robin has a really messy room but still organized in a sense. everything is where you can see it, not put away in a drawer and forgotten, making it easier to locate her things. she will get upset if someone moves something and doesn’t tell her where they put it.

- her sleep schedule is not even a schedule at this point. there’s no pattern at all. she’ll be sitting on her bed with like dozens of papers for like a new language one night. and then a couple days later, she’s in steve’s car and telling him about the great 16 solid hours she slept.

- speaking of sleeping, she has the most bizarre dreams (like argyle in my jargyle hc’s) and will retell each dream as many times as it takes for everyone to hear about it. but as she’s telling this one person about a dream, she’ll remember something else that happened in that dream and then everyone gets the same story but slightly different from each others.

- won’t wear any other shoe except converse.

- has been rotating the same 4 outfits for like 2 years now. she’s very picky about whether this plain shirt should go with blah blah. she’s just gotta look cool in public.

- secretly loves her hair as much as steve loves his.

- robin obviously likes to doodle on things (her shoes) so steve and nancy will let her draw on them. they both got a little too trusting with the maturity of her art and then ended up with male and female genitals drawn all over them (she switched out her sharpie for a pen on those ones because she would feel bad after). she writes little jokes and would just wait for her victim to question it.

- she likes rocks. not like a full on collector but just likes to point them out when seeing a shiny one. ok yea she’s not a collector but she definitely does have some cool rocks in her room somewhere.

- robin is a warm person. her body temp could get so high that she just wants to climb in a freezer. on the other hand, nancy gets super cold. her hands, nose, and ears specifically. so naturally, nancy is always staying really close to robin like robin’s her personal heater. robin unintentionally flirts with nancy using her furnace hands. like nancy would be wearing earmuffs and complaining how she’s just getting colder by the second. and then in comes robin taking off nancy’s earmuffs and holding her hands on each side of nancy’s head. nancy sticks to robin like glue after that.

- robin hasn’t lost one single staring contest (not counting the ones who cheat aka steve, dustin, and max). steve has to warn everyone who goes against her because he’s seen her stare at a wall for 4 minutes straight during their shift in family video. only one person has gotten close to beating her and that was jonathon.

- steve and robin have matching best friend necklaces like the cheap necklaces that would break in a millisecond. yet they still treat it as if it were sack of diamonds. they agreed that they’d bring the necklaces to the grave with them.

- robin gets super excited for other peoples birthday. like she gets to show her friends how much she appreciates them with gifts on the day of their birth!!!! so steve would give her a whole bunch of cash and just tell her to go crazy. and so she does. after his shift at family video, he gets to his house and finds decorations on decorations. there’s presents set by the table and everyone is there. the byers + the hoppers, the wheelers (minus t*d), the sinclairs, and the hendersons. his house has never truly looked like a home more than it has in this moment. robin knew this too. and robin wasn’t surprised when steve tried to wipe his eyes without anyone noticing. robin then hands him a wimpy looking cake with a giant cake art rendition of steve’s hair. it was the best god damn cake steve ever had.

(anyways i think imma leave it on that giant hc that definitely felt like more of a short fic lmao)

#robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #ronance #platonic stobin #robin buckley headcanons #ronance headcanon #platonic stobin headcanons #stranger things #stranger things 4 #maya hawke #stranger things headcanons

[iltaimpi]

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo OC: Zucca Korhonen

{I've been working on this for several days. While I will keep the old post, which has also been updated, up, I'm posting this as a new post.}

{Notice: Contains body horror, mention of suicide, general light gore, lots of blood.}

{Hildá Áile Gurbbet, legally Kurpitsa Lauri Kemppainen, born in the Suomi area of Sàpmi but moving to Italia at a young age and subsequently being raised there, was a... relatively normal child, all things considered.

Their general home and guardianship situation had some oddities, as they were frequently passed awkwardly between various legal guardians due to hectic family affairs and other assorted tragedies.

This trend of frequent relocation started when they were very young, still living in Sàpmi, after the suicide of their mother; the ensuing mental disintegration of their father made him a danger to be around for both himself and others, not to mention more than unfit to care for a very young child. Kurpitsa was thusly moved to live with their very Christian grandmother and less religious aunt in Helsinki.

This lasted briefly, perhaps a year or so; one day, they got home from school to a fleet of emergency vehicles. They were never told what had happened to their grandmother and aunt, but they'd heard in passing that there had been a gas leak, and they were left to fill in the blanks from that. They were effectively hauled off to stay with their aunt-in-law—their uncle's widow—in Italy, far from home (though they could never quite remember where in Italy it had been), until she, too, ended up dead; the death officially alleged to be the result of her actions following a psychotic break, even though she'd never been reported to have shown any symptoms of psychosis. They attributed it to a "very rare byproduct" of the grief of losing her husband. Kurpitsa wasn't sure they ever really believed it, but they hardly knew the woman anyway, so they didn't feel compelled to dwell.

Somehow, Kurpitsa seemed to skirt most of the direct trauma or grieving periods that one would expect to result from the deaths. This was perhaps due to factors such as them being too young to understand the death of their mother, much less the concept of suicide; never having seen the bodies of their grandmother (whose behaviour may have actually been more traumatic than her death, though it didn't seem to stick with them either) or their aunt when the two presumably died; and not having particularly close with their aunt-in-law—the woman wasn't even directly related to them and lived all the way in Italia, for crying out loud! Kurpitsa barely knew her, nevermind had any kind of relationship with her.

Perhaps, though, it was also because, instead of grieving—a natural and healthy thing to go through after such things—and dealing with trauma that should've theoretically originated from all the death surrounding them, they just got used to it.

The trend of these relocations was that they allegedly happened due to general mental instability within the older adults of the family or the vulnerability of more stable ones due to (occasionally supernatural-seeming) hazards of the area they lived in. Or otherwise, just in general terribly bad luck.

So it was a while until they finally settled to live in Napoli with their cousin, Rutabaga (who had changed her name from Lantuu to 'sound more Italian' and usually went by Rita) and uncle, Nauris, who kept his Finnish name and usually still called Rita "Lantuu".

The Korhonens were who they managed to stay with the longest, from between the ages of around 10 to 15, coming to see their cousin more like a sister and building a real relationship with the two. Ultimately, Kurpitsa took the surname of Korhonen—to attach themselves more meaningfully to their family—and, at some point, the forename Zucca, presumably to better fit in with their Italian peers, similarly to Rita, as they felt insecure with their distinctly Finnish name.

When Zucca was around 14, Nauris died—relatively peacefully, it seemed at the time—of "health complications", but ones that Rita swore up and down that her father was too young to have, so foul play must have been involved; she swore she was going to figure out what actually happened. Her opportunities and capability for this mission were, however, minimal.

At the same time, in the aftermath of the death, Zucca's cousin insisted that unless something better could be arranged, she was capable of and willing to responsibly care for Zucca. Her insistence was an attempt in earnest to offer some sense of stability to Zucca, allowing them to remain in the place they'd lived in the longest, with someone they'd lived with the longest, instead of dragging them off to some other family member (or worse, the system) instead.

Unfortunately, veneered stability could only do so much against alienation and mental instability; Zucca had hit the point where, despite their efforts to fit in with their Italian peers, feelings of isolation became a rampant issue, and the other chemical imbalances were becoming prominent. Being at the age of typical teen angst with a family history of Issues, even if their peers didn't alienate and ostracise them, the rut of anxiety and despair they'd hit was inevitable, and in a vicious cycle, being seen as "troubled" made them more alienated and ostracised.

But when they dared to finally tell Rita why their mood had tanked, Rita responded well with support and understanding to further foster the trust between them and (with the help of some... very low-end counselling they could afford) help Zucca find some foothold, at least some solid ground to stand on while travelling through teenage social darkness.

As far as anyone could tell, Zucca had finally met equilibrium and was in a relatively stable mental state, which was more than they could say for quite a few of the other people in their family, sadly.

But there was one hitch: Rita was a Stand User, whereas Zucca was not. Though they had no Stand of their own, through experience with Rita, Zucca developed at least some general awareness of Stands from Rita; they knew plenty about what, loosely, Stands "were", and, most importantly, how they were typically used for extreme and supernaturally-charged combat. They also had some idea of their cousin's Stand ability, or at least what it could do.

「Heart Demolition」, Rita's Stand, was rather intense. The way that Zucca understood it, through the transmission and reception of information, such as that spoken by mouth or written on paper, a fire could be ignited—the more upsetting the words, the more intense—either burning the mouth of the speaker, to great suffering; effectively allowing the speaker to "breathe fire", still to great suffering; or otherwise simply setting the paper alight, which really didn't bother the paper much although it certainly did it no favours.

Unfortunately, being an older-teen, younger adult Stand User in that area of Italia, living an admittedly quite challenging situation, especially in terms of finance, and most of all still particularly searching for answers she'd not had an opportunity to reach, Rita was led to the seemingly inevitable: attempting to join Passione. With the suggestion of a "friend" of hers, though Zucca wasn't sure which one—they'd later wish they did, they’d love to give them a piece of their mind—Rita had supposedly met with the so-called 'Polpo', and, as many others had, attempted an initiative test... omitting the fact, of course, that she already had a Stand, much like a to-be preeminent "Gang-star" later would, but with a far-less-victorious outcome.

Zucca, by then at the age of perhaps 15, like with Stands, had at least some vague awareness of what Rita was getting herself into; in fact, they knew a little more than they probably should've, to the extent of understanding the dubious nature of Passione, but still having faith enough in their cousin not to cast doubt on her decision.

When Rita explained what this test entailed, Zucca respectfully tried to keep their distance from the lighter so as not to interfere. Inevitably—though Rita had, at the last second, realised and attempted to salvage the flame—the lighter burnt out when her attention drifted for a few seconds too many.

Zucca, clueless as anyone else in their position would be, suggested that the lighter ‘hadn't burnt out, just very low’ and that, 'technically', if the flame was ‘fed’ without striking the spark wheel, then there would be no harm, no foul, surely, right?

They didn't have any matches in the house. Or other lighters, for that matter. Both were rarely a necessity. So Zucca instead suggested that Rita use 「Heart Demolition」, offering to write something on a paper for Rita to set alight, mostly just out of a desire to feel like they were helping. Rita, none the wiser and happy enough to let her cousin feel useful, so to say, attempted as Zucca suggested, setting the paper alight with a tiny flame.

Though the spark wheel had been untouched, the reignition of the flame, of course, summoned 「Black Sabbath」. A confrontation began, and Rita, though she tried her damned best, didn't have much room to escape or otherwise manoeuvre about, considering they were indoors. However, though they couldn't see what was happening and had no means of protecting themself, Zucca intervened anyway, trying to protect Rita or at least give her a fighting chance. Because they got in the way—perhaps trying to act as a distraction somehow—the Stand, it seemed, refocused on Zucca, ultimately piercing them with the Stand Arrow, to Rita's—and, well, surely their own—dismay.

Zucca's next memory was a blast of heat and blinding light, coupled with a wild burst of, perhaps, blood, from behind them. As if in ignorance of the situation, they turned their head; behind them, they saw Rita, standing for a brief moment—covered in bewildering lacerations from which bloodied razor blades of varying sizes appeared to emerge—before crumpling to the ground, motionless, the blades disappearing, her body seeming to dehisce from itself where the deepest wounds were. Odd movements came from some of the slices on her body, like eyes opening on her flesh—on second look, Zucca found that they were eyes, and making "eye contact" with one of these, they could see the memories of their cousin, leading right up to the memory of what had just happened, what Zucca's brain had failed to process, and at that, Zucca fall apart—literally.

With a burst of blood and a deep, internal, slicing agony through their whole being, Zucca—somehow still alive—collapsed as their own body, like they witnessed with Rita's, fell asunder, turning them into a shattered mockery of a human form. Despite this, they found themself still both completely conscious, cognisant and even able to move, though barely, between their body not being attached to itself and the combined numbness and immobilisation of the agony. Their ears rang, and where their vision landed first was upon the Stand that had attacked, remaining for a brief moment amongst firelight before it appeared to vanish.

The entire room had effectively been shredded to fragments and utterly torched, still ablaze, even, to the extent that the outer wall had a hole in it, the window blown out. Yet, somehow, nobody seemed to have caught on to the fact that anything had happened at the time despite the noise that they had so blatantly been deafened by and the fire, to Zucca's fortune and misfortune alike. The only thing left unscathed, it seemed, was the lighter, which Zucca reached out to, grabbed, and tossed into the inferno, not affording it a chance to burn out again, like it meant anything to them.

Somehow, they managed to get up partway, limbs reattaching as if they'd never come off, the places where the dismemberment had occurred marked only by pain and protruding razor blades, and pulling those out proved futile and agonising. They barely managed to lug themself over to their cousin, praying to find her alive, reaching out to touch her to... shake her, wake her up. But any chance of her survival was soon obliterated; as soon as a blade stuck in the palm of Zucca's hand came into contact with Rita, the razors that had retracted into Rita's skin suddenly re-emerged, ripping through her body entirely, completely dismembering her, to Zucca's abject horror.

Zucca remained in the wreckage amongst the flames, frozen in bewilderment, staring at the dismembered pieces and hoping one of the two of them would wake up. They were utterly unable to process after seeing what had just happened. But finally, from the corner of their eye, a glint off the metal of the lighter they'd thrown in their frenzy caught their peripheral and seemed to give them a twisted motivation.

Rita and 「Heart Demolition」 had passed the torch to them.

They manoeuvred over to collect the lighter despite the flames and stayed by the body, immobile and mourning, until they heard distant sirens at early daybreak as the fire had already dissolved to ash and, somehow, they were still alive. Whether the sirens were approaching them to finally investigate whatever unholy disaster had occurred in the Korhonen household or whether it was a coincidence, Zucca decided it was in their best interests not to find out. Besides, they had something to take care of.

Dazed, they somehow managed to stand, now whole again, yet the evidence of their wounds was still visible, the blades still lifting slightly from their flesh, but now hardly more prominent than thorns on a rose. Aside from the slice marks, they blatantly showed damage from the proximity to the fire, though this, too, was more subdued than it realistically should've been. Because, of course, between the fire, smoke, heat and dismemberment, they should have been dead.

Stepping through the ash and smoke, staggering as they struggled with the pain and the inability to focus, they made their way to their room, which the fire seemed to have failed to completely engulf. The clothes they'd had on were torn and scorched, and, setting the lighter down with no concern to further damage it could cause if something else caught alight, they did their best to put something less conspicuous on, only to tear up the new clothes in the process of putting them on. And giving up as the sirens were now fully audible, getting closer, they grabbed their longest coat, covering their head.

By the time anyone could be bothered to actually investigate the long-burnt-out fire and commotion—whether the delay had been out of fear or genuinely nobody had heard or seen anything—someone had already left through the hole in the wall instead of the door, gone to finish what someone else started.

And while it was unclear why the fact that she was a different person entirely seemed to be glossed over, nevermind how she managed to accomplish the heist-like task in the first place, Zucca left a member of Passione... and would very shortly thereafter, by chance, meet a very concerned young man known by most as Buccellati—concerned, no doubt, due to the fact that the young teen was... visibly not in a fantastic state at the time, on account of the whole 'not-really-doing-anything-about-the-injuries' thing, and probably looked entirely lost as her brain was now catching up and she had started to realise she didn't exactly have anywhere to return.

Zucca would soon learn that she now had a Stand.

「Razorblade Meltdown」.

Zucca Korhonen's deeply disturbing Stand, 「Razorblade Meltdown」, is a Close-Range Power Type humanoid Stand. Despite being a power type Stand, the type most typically suited for Stand-to-Stand combat, 「Razorblade Meltdown」 is actually quite rarely seen... as the Stand's ability makes Zucca herself quite the dangerous entity, and that's usually enough.

By use of her Stand, Zucca can bare dangerous razor blades that create deep slices in and extrude through her flesh, even to the point of dismembering herself, which she uniquely can survive and reconstruct at will, though, unsurprisingly, it does appear to be quite excruciating to do so.

This effect is typically inflicted upon others—often on a non-fatal scale—to make use of the 「Razorblade Meltdown」's actual primary ability; when a victim is subject to the slicing effect of the Stand, these slices open into eyes, and making eye contact with these allows you to see the victim's memories.

The effect and, subsequently, the ability, is typically inflicted through contact with the Stand or, more commonly, contact with the blades (or sometimes her blood) when she's using the ability on herself.

The most direct way to inflict the effect upon a victim is when the victim makes contact with the blades coming out of Zucca's skin, which will typically impose a critical-severity full-body impact, and if Zucca is not focused on controlling the ability, can often lead to death. Making physical contact with her blades twice will almost always kill someone immediately via dismemberment. The ability's effect can be undone—though the injury and pain will still be evident—but whether this happens can be case-to-case.

The drawback of her potent ability lies within one simple fact: she must have a genuine mental breakdown or panic attack to effectively use 「Razorblade Meltdown」 (especially to utilise the ability in, say, combat). Typically, in doing this, she extends the effect through every available spot of her body, and the razors extrude to a severe degree, sometimes even "shooting out" and damaging everything around in the most extreme of circumstances.

While her ability is massively powerful and a great asset to have both for combat and for interrogation, it also makes her insanely dangerous to be around while active; she cannot be safely approached until the ability deactivates, but the ability won't deactivate unless she mentally stabilises / calms down or passes out; so it's a bit of a catch-22 in that regard, and she can be seen as a liability because of it... There's also often a lot of screaming. Again, it's quite painful.

Though she is prone to cry while using her Stand, this isn't generally as well-known as the very obvious screaming; often, by the time anyone approaches her, once her ability has been neutralised, she's already stopped.

She can be a bit concerning to be around for those with a touch more empathy, such as most members of Buccellati's inner circle; because her ability requires her to have a breakdown or be pushed past her limit mentally to be used effectively, she often keeps herself on the brink of hysteria or keeps traumatic wounds fresh so she can send herself into a mental or traumatic breakdown if ever she needs to use her ability, instead of trying to figure out if she could learn to use the ability in a stable mental state.

As a result of this self-destructive "necessary evil", she's easily spooked and often struggles to control her own tears seemingly at random. Though she can be pretty friendly and fun to be around, she also, at times, zones out, struggles to even speak and suddenly isolates herself from a conversation group out of fear, anxiety or general self-consciousness. If she doesn't seem tense, she usually looks quite tired instead, which she attributes to the frequent blood loss that comes with using her Stand.

While not necessarily a member of the immediate primary group associated with Buccellati, she falls within the same sort-of "sector", to put it loosely; she at the least works with them frequently but possibly belongs to a 'parallel' group. It would seem that Buccallati's group is, perhaps, a bit more compassionate to her than her own group, which might be the thing that's starting to balance her out.

Initially, her intention lacked the desire to be involved with the organisation. Something of the opposite, actually; on a surface level, she blamed 「Black Sabbath」 - and Passione by extension - for her cousin's death despite holding significantly more turbulent feelings buried within her regarding the event. Still, despite joining with a hunger for revenge, she instead found a sense of family to substitute for the one that had been taken from her and soon lost the will to harm them.}

Update 19.12.2023: Polished up and refined the story. Changed some details and corrected some unclear wording. Update 10.1.2024–16.1.2024: Added new pictures. Still a bit hasty, but better.

Update 4.5.2024: Grammatical revisions.

#She's had a very long day. #Mods - adopt that child! #Ilta Puhuu #Ilta Piirtää #JJBA OC #Vento Aureo OC #Fanstands #Character Profile #JoJo OC #Bucci Gang #JJBA fan character #JJBA fan stand #Zucca Korhonen #Rita Korhonen #Razorblade Meltdown #Heart Demolition #Pannacotta Fugo #Guido Mista #Leone Abbacchio #Bruno Buccellati #Bruno Bucciarati #Team Buccellati #Razorblade Meltdown by Dragonforce #JJBA #Risotto Nero #CW: eyes #CW: blood #CW: body horror

[calebwittebane]

so fucking funny when my brain is like. hey bitch. i see youre going to sleep well heres the thing. im gonna give you some dreams now. picture this. imagine youre staying in a truly bizarre, labyrinth-like hotel thats not even rly divided into rooms, its just like, heres your pile of shit, loose furniture, make yourself at home. anyway theres creatures roaming the place. they can stun you and cause you profound pain. ohh yeah reminder you feel pain in dreams. full sensory experience. remember that. anyway you contact the hotel owner to gently point out a civil engineering safety regulation issue in the building (unrelated to the already mentioned flaws). he seems grateful. it hurts you when you try to speak, btw.

there are, also, flocks of small birds stuck in time, everywhere, dont touch them or theyll crash into what from their perspective is a solid object moving at light speed, and theyll be obliterated. okay so the hotel owner is like thanks for the tip i will get that checked out. Surprise! youre a demon whos been on the run. the hotel owner is your uncle and also a demon hunter whos been Waiting for you. you were supposed to be outside of the solar system, but looks like not only were you paying a visit to earth, you were foolish and arrogant enough to disguise yourself as a human and pull this kind of stupid stunt! well, thats not fucking good.

you dont know what he plans to do, so you do your best to escape His Twisted Hotel Realm. its not easy, but thanks to your ability to fly and to briefly become invisible and able to phase through solid matter, you manage to get out. youre out in the city now. its a Twisted Fucked Up version of warsaw. i mean like Continent Sized. whatever. youre gonna try to get to a train station and then figure out the rest. you take off flying in a direction that seems right.

well, flying is hard. its tiresome. and there are power lines everywhere. get above the power lines level you idiot. oh oops theyre at Every Altitude. gotta make sure you dont fly into them. so dont fly too fast. but you have to maintain a good speed, otherwise youll lose lift. oough oof ouch, you touched some of those wires, that sure hurt! well, this will be an ordeal.

oh geeze! it seems like youve flown into Gargantuan Horrifying Industrial Zone. its the part of the city thats all Mind Bendingly Huge machinery, excavators, pipes, endless fields of moving parts, saws, pumps, i mean theres nowhere to land. theres like, Walking Coal Excavators. walking moving coal plants. huge collapsing exploding structures--everything is so gargantuan, red-hot, horrible and dangerous, theres shit exploding and collapsing all the time. there are fires everywhere. oil spilling. toxic smoke. and of course power lines at every altitude. and enormous moving parts. well good luck flying through this Zone.

oh well! you try. you have powers after all. you try to fly through this Zone. a walking power plant almost crushes you with its incomprehensibly huge, rusty, titan limbs and machinery. maintaining invincibility while flying is Really hard and at a certain level of exhaustion its likely to malfunction, and if it does at a bad moment, youll be obliterated painfully.

well it happens. it hurts. but instead of dying you clip thru the ground into Huge Underground Tunne Network where the workers live and work and navigate the place. you try to hide in storages and unused tunnels and shit, but thing is, due to how Enormous all the shit upstairs is, the whole tthing is like a living organism. when a walking coal plant passes above, the tunnels contract and loosen up and give in, and some of them get squeezed completely. the workers know how to navigate this, but you dont, so you get painfully squished by a contracting tunnel. youre too exhausted to turn invincible.

well you decide trying to blend in is your best chance. best you can do with how tired you are is take the form of a young worker and pretend to be a new guy. some other workers (theyre all like combination coal miners and prisoners) immediately fall in love with you and try to hook up with you. you accept their advances to get information. they tell you about a train line running thru the zone that can take you to the outskirts. next one is tomorrow. you accept that as your best bet. after hours of grueling work and a painful experience all around, you get on the train. its old and falling apart. hard to tell where its going exactly. it breaks down. youre stranded. where are you? you dont know.

ugh! this wouldnt be happening if you werent a demon. which btw other workers figured out that you are. they start drowning you in a bucket of water. you start laughing at them. its not funny. you hurt all over. you want to die, but you never will. youre cursed to live through your own painful horrifying death endlessly, over and over.

also youre 10 and your parents are fighting

[high-functioning-fang1rl]

Well I’m already exhausted and it’s only Monday, and there are NO WORDS to describe how TERRIFIED I am of what’s to come on Wednesday, so what better thing to distract myself with than some writing? So here’s Part 2 of my AU, where Chucky manipulates Nica into thinking she’s his daughter at the end of Cult!

One Side of the Knife! AU PART TWO!

The sound of a drill and cackling laughter pierced the air eerily as Nica rolled her chair through the empty asylum hallway. Not sure she wanted to know what she’d find, she hesitated before she rounded the corner, stopping at the bizarre scene before her.

The one-armed Good Guy was holding a drill that she noted was shiny with blood, laughing shrilly with the other doll she had followed. Malcolm lay on the ground beside them, blood pouring from the fresh hole through his head, his face frozen and blank with death.

Dizzy and queasy, Nica spotted yet another body, her heart sinking when she recognized that it was Nurse Ashley.

She’d had kids, Nica thought with a pang. Kids who wouldn’t ever know what happened to their mother.

Unable to stop her gasp of horror, the two dolls turned their attention on her.

“I knew you’d make the right choice!” The Chucky she’d followed crowed, his arms spreading robotically in victory.

But she leaned back, recoiling. “What did you do?” She demanded anxiously.

The doll holding the drill shrugged, lowering the weapon to his side. “The guy was certifiable! He killed the nurse pretending to be me and got himself killed for it! He was on borrowed time anyway.”

Nica recalled Malcolm claiming to be “Charles” the last time she’d spoken, but she couldn’t stop the pang of regret coursing through her as she remembered the relief she’d felt meeting him, the feeling that she finally had an ally again when she’d felt so alone and helpless in the cursed walls of Harrogate.

“It couldn’t be helped, kid!” Chucky tried to assure her. “Now we can get out of here no problem!”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Nica nodded, rolling the chair after him, doing her best to ignore the bodies and how they basically made a trail toward the office she’d been in as she passed. The two dolls split up, Nica immediately following the intact doll down the longer hallway toward what she knew was the exit. She only paused when he did, looking into an empty room.

A young man, his back toward her, stared down at what she guessed could only be the third Good Guy doll Nica had seen in Dr. Foley’s office, though it was so smashed under the person’s boot that she couldn’t be sure.

As if sensing he wasn’t alone, the figure turned, immediately pointing a gun in their direction.

It felt like a jolt of electricity ran through her as she faintly recognized that the man in front of her must be Andy Barclay, all grown up.

For a brief second he seemed just as surprised by Nica’s presence, his lips parting slightly and eyes widening a fraction. Then his eyes went to the doll and without hesitation, his handsome features determined, grim, he trained the gun forward the doll and pulled the trigger, and Nica tensed in her chair as an empty click indicated he was out of bullets.

“Tag you’re it, Pal!” Cackling, Chucky suddenly swung the door shut. “Lock it!” He barked at her as Andy ran to the door.

Only hesitating for a brief moment, Nica obeyed, her wrist flicking out quickly to shut the young man in.

“NO!” Fists pounded on the door, Andy howling and cursing Chucky behind the door.

Against her better judgement, Nica looked at Chucky, hoping to assuage the guilt she felt at leaving the attractive stranger locked in Harrogate. “Why is he here?”

Chucky awkwardly clambered up onto her lap, his eyes big blue and earnest. “The kid’s got issues! He’s stalked me for years- he heard I was coming here to free you and thought you were working with me. He wanted to keep us both locked in here, but the joke is on him! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

With one last glance to the locked door, still unsure she was doing the right thing, she continued toward the exit obediently.

*****

The cold was the first thing she noticed, and she began shivering immediately as the air hit her.

Snow was falling gently, and despite the circumstances Nica couldn’t help but admire the beauty of it, couldn’t stop herself from taking a deep breath of fresh air, the feeling of freedom making her body sing.

Carefully wheeling around the steps, she made her way toward the gates, where a red car sat waiting for them.

The gorgeous blonde- Tiffany Valentine, she recalled- stood waiting beside the car patiently, her eyes fixed on the doll in Nica’s lap, a smile fixed on her expertly painted red lips.

She addressed Chucky, her voice as distinctive and unforgettable as it had been when she’d met with Nica to tell her about Alice and leave Chucky with her. “Hey, Sweetface. ‘S good to see you.” She said playfully.

Nica was surprised, however, when the doll replied, a fondness she’d never heard before evident in his voice. “You look great, Tiff.”

Tiffany smirked, her big eyes moving up to regard Nica curiously.

Chucky read the question in her eyes and quickly offered “I believe you’ve already met but, Tiff, may I properly introduce Nica Pierce? Nica, meet my wife; Tiffany.”

“Hi.” Nica shifted shyly, uncomfortably, trying for a smile.

It felt like there was fire in her gaze as Tiffany smiled back, offering a pleasant “Hello.” in return, and Nica got the impression Tiffany was not thrilled by her presence.

“Nica here decided she wanted to know more about where she came from, so she’ll be joining us, just like we hoped!” Charles said authoritatively, reaching up for Tiffany.

Seemingly more pleased when holding him in her arms, Tiffany grinned. “Let’s go, SweetFace!” She cooed, bringing him around and placing him in the passenger seat. Then she returned to the driver’s side, opening the door to the backseat and opening her arms. “Nica…” she politely waited for permission before lifting Nica out of the chair, carefully putting her in the backseat and helping her buckle.

Nica noticed the car wasn’t big enough to fit the wheelchair, and she paused, her body going tense.

“I…um, I’ll need my chair…” she told them apologetically, embarrassed, years of conditioning making her cheeks heat red.

But Chucky looked back at her from the front seat as Tiffany slid into the driver’s seat, his voice gravely but unbothered. “Not a problem! We have a chair at home for ya- I told ya, we planned on this! Well, hoped on it, at least!”

Despite herself, something small fluttered inside of her chest; the ease of her disability being accepted foreign to her, a tiny part of her preening, grateful for the kind treatment.

“Thanks.” She said softly.

In the driver’s seat, Tiffany sighed.

“What.” Chucky demanded.

Meeting Nica’s eyes in the rearview mirror, Tiffany said with a pout. “I was just thinking about Alice...”

Nica’s heart constricted, tears immediately burning behind her eyes as she looked away, pain lancing through her heart.

The blonde continued, “And how much I miss her and how sorry I am that she’s gone… but maybe having you here will help us all feel close to her.”

Sniffling, Nica nodded, wiping at her eyes as she attempted to swallow the grief. “Yeah…yeah, maybe it will.”

“Good point, Tiff. Now let’s get the hell out of here!” Chucky waved his arm.

Smiling, Tiffany turned the engine on, and settling back into the seat as the car started, Nica finally saw the blonde, female doll in the seat beside her, jumping in shock when it turned to return her curious look with one of it’s own.

Seeing her surprise and momentary fear, the doll laughed, the shrill sound unmistakably a duplicate of Tiffany’s. From the front of the car, the human Tiffany and Chucky joined in the laughter, as if sharing an inside joke.

In between bouts of uninhibited cackling Chucky apologized for the surprise. “Boy, do we have a lot to catch up on!” He told her as the car pulled away.

Feeling lighter as the car left the facility she’d been contained in for too long, a place of nightmares, Nica began chuckling at herself too, the car growing loud with the sound of their mirth.

She didn't even notice the body left discarded on the pavement, the red blood soaking into the white blanket of snow around it.

*****

Well, we’re on our way now! Thanks for reading!

When it comes to future installments, there are MANY ways this could go, and I’m curious what you all would like to see/read! How dark should Nica go/how deep into Chucky and Tiff’s claws should she get? I’ve got a few ideas for many scenarios, so I’d be happy to hear what you all want to read!

I’m slowly loving this AU more and more so I’d love to hear any input/thoughts you may have! :)

*Hope you all are having a great week already! 🥰*

#chucky 2021 #nica pierce #andy barclay #brad dourif #chucky series #chucky syfy #fiona dourif #jennifer tilly #tiffany valentine #chucky #jevon #junior wheeler #jake wheeler #lexy cross #devon evans