#but for some reason my brain had decided to write down -5 to 3

[mainepdf]

guys do you wanna know about the stupidest mistake anyone could ever make in a maths test that i found out i did?

[atskiruma]

his reaction to your pajamas

expl: they pay your house a visit and see you in your pajamas, flustered by the exposed skin when they're so used to seeing you in your regular outfit

a/n: back

second person writing no pronouns used

Diluc didn't often pay your home a visit because he never had a reason to do so. You were always on time to the tavern, so today, when you had shown up late he decided he'd pay a visit just to make sure you were alright!

It wasn't often that he took this trip to the other side of the city of Mondstat. He only really saw these parts when he was doing his justice as the "Darknight Hero," but he knew you lived here when he had to drop you off after a couple too many drinks. Which was a shame because you also never remembered when you practically clung to him the whole way while flirting.

He took a couple steps towards your door and knocked 3 times. Standing in silence for a bit before hearing the sounds of some clattering objects in the house. Along with the sound of your voice cursing when something fell with it.

The door swung open and you appeared before it, disheveled, and looking like you just woke up. Your expression immediately turning flustered when you realized your boss was at your front door, and you were dressed in your pajamas.

Diluc's eyes flew to your appearance, especially the fact that the clothes you were wearing were very uneven, along with a lot of skin being shown. You seemed to notice his glance going down further and further, before raking back up to your eyes. Lifting the bottoms that were slowly falling down your hips, you sheepishly smiled before speaking,

"Diluc! Can I ask why you-" This was when your face dropped in immediate realization. Unfortunately, your brain chose at that moment to catch up with everything surrounding you. It was the afternoon, you just woke up, and it was Sunday. Wait? It's Sunday.

You jumped nearly 50 feet, scattering to explain with your hands in the air. "Oh my god! I am so sorry! I was out really late last night and I- God I'm so sorry! I will be down there in 5 minutes trust me I promise!"

Rushing back into your house, slamming the door and the sound of more clattering objects and your cursing reached Diluc's ears. He finally allowed his face to dust a shade of pink, pulling his hand over to his mouth and rubbing it in an embarrassing matter.

Xiao was the "Conquerer of Demons" he was vicious, strong, and scary. Xiao was the "Conquerer of Demons" but here he was, doing an errand. Ridiculous, an errand? All he was trying to do was make his way up to the top of the Wangshu Inn when Verr Goldet practically cornered him and asked him for a favor.

And how can Xiao say no? She gave him a place of safety and he would do anything to repay her for the kindness she's shown. Verr had asked him if he could deliver a package to a room closer to the top floor. He knew it was your room just by the number, often walking by and waiting a few seconds to hear any noises in there.

Xiao knocked on your door, silently hoping you wouldn't take your time getting to the door and this could end quickly. He waited a couple more seconds before hearing the sounds of you walking towards the door. The door opened slower than he thought it would and you came out looking like you had just woken up the minute he knocked.

Your pajamas were hanging loosely off you and Xiao's eyes wasted no time looking down at all the exposed skin that was showing. Your eyes squinted so much that you couldn't see the way his face lit up like a firework at the sight of you.

"Xiao? What're you doing here?" The voice you spoke with sounded groggy. Still unaware of The Conquerer of Demons losing it at your appearance. He said no word and quickly handed over the package, nearly making you lose your balance before disappearing away.

Scaramouche was not an observer, he didn't care what people were doing or what they looked like. All he was focused on was doing his own thing. Which was why it confused him to no end why Kusanali was managing to keep his attention right now.

At least, to Scaramouche. it was confusing, but the Dendro Archon knew what she needed to say in order to keep the wanderer's attention. Your name alone kept him focused on her words and she continued to manage to add you to the problem in order for him to find the solution.

"And that's why I think if we manage to get-"

The sound of a door slamming alerted both Kusanali and Scaramouche, along with the Traveler and Paimon across the room. Your flustered appearance entered the room, clearly out of breath from running all the way up here. Why did they put so many stairs leading up to the Sanctuary?

"Nahida. I am. So sorry. That I missed-" The sounds of your out-of-breath panting were in between every word you spoke, which eventually just led you to put your hands on your knees to catch it. You ran all the way up here as soon as you woke up, seeing the sunshine high in the sky and knowing you forgot to meet up with Nahida about the plan she had. Which led you to rush out in your pajamas, earning a few strange looks from passers-by on your way up.

"I had totally overslept and forgot about the plan..." Your words trailed off when you finally looked up and saw Scaramouche gleaming a bright red at your outfit. His eyes were anywhere but your own, examining your body like he was trying to engrave the image in front of him.

"Scaramouche? Are you okay?" Your voice finally reached his ears as he recollected himself from the shock, shooting his eyes back up to your own. The emotions that ran through were clear, confusion, embarrassment, and then finally anger. He shot up from his seat startling both Paimon and the Traveler, Nahida remaining unfazed.

"This is stupid! I'm out of here!" His voice trailed off as he stomped away from the scene. Knowing that when he was out of shot, another glance at your back would send him red-faced again.

Cyno found himself once again back in the desert visiting the Traveler and their flying white-haired companion in order to help with another quest. Back in the village of Aaru Village, the 3 traveled around asking about something the quest giver was looking for.

"And I told her there was no way I was falling for- Hey look, it's Candace!" Paimon exclaimed, pointing in the direction where the indigo-haired woman was walking. They managed to catch up with her after Paimon's screeching caught her attention.

She told them that she was going back to the main building where they had first gathered when the Traveler visited, saying she was finished running her errands and was returning back. Cyno nodded in silence while he let Paimon do most of the talking, letting his mind wander what you were up to right now.

The 3 entered the building and quickly helped Candace settle her bags onto the table. Paimon was just to go back to squeaking before Cadance quickly threw a finger over her mouth and pointed towards the couch in the corner.

There you slept, half off the couch with your pajamas nearly falling off your shoulder and hips. Cyno knew you were in the room since he entered, and didn't let his eyes leave your figure in the corner once. His face was blank, but anyone who knew him closer than others would know he was flustered by all means. Which meant Cadance's smile didn't leave her face either when she watched him move his eyes across your whole body.

"Cyno! Cyno!" Paimons voice returned to his consciousness and he quickly looked over at her, not before shooting an extra glance toward you again.

"We're leaving now? Are you gonna come with us?" She said, floating around in an impatient manner. He shook his head and spoke, "No, I have other matters I need to catch up with here as well. You can go on ahead."

The Traveler nodded before Paimon could complain and walked off back to where the original quester was waiting. Cyno turned back to you before realizing Cadance had left the room too.

You later woke up with the General Mahamatra's sleeping form in the chair near you, and a blanket covering your whole body.

alhaitham visited and cyno nearly broke his skull in when he saw his eyes shoot to your body

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus just pulled off the biggest whiff in webtoon history.

I promised I would choose one of two headlines and of course, this is the one we wound up with. But should we really be surprised? Rachel herself seemed to be telling on herself down to the minutes leading up to the finale, fully confirming to us that yes, she's been writing this comic at the last minute, by the seat of her pants, for ages now.

(that second one was literally posted TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES BEFORE THE COMIC UPDATED.)

Welp, let's get into it. Possibly the last essay I'll ever write about this dumpster fire of a comic (but probably not, let's be real LOL)

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND FASTPASS SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE AHEAD!

Holy crap, where to even start with this. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew it was going to be rushed. I knew it wasn't ever going to live up to what I had hoped it would be years ago when I was still a diehard fan.

But I didn't think it was going to fall quite this hard. Despite bracing myself for the worst, Rachel has once again let my expectations down through a final display of explosive mediocrity and disappointment.

Yes, the episode is called "You're Welcome", and yes, that instant "ick" you're feeling is the exact same as what we're all feeling. This title plays into the dialogue later, but what a shitty, lowkey mean-spirited title for the series finale.

Now, before we get into the actual episode, the WT ads for this are just... so desperate and misleading.

They are trying SO HARD to hype up something that isn't there, and at the last minute to boot, because Rachel definitely hadn't written any of this ahead of time.

First off, the bit about the gods being in "eternal chaos" of course isn't a stake worth worrying over because Gaia literally does away with Ouranos in the first 5 panels.

Did you really think I was joking about that 5 panels thing?

That's it. That's the death of Ouranos. As mysteriously and quickly as he arrived, he was gone, after Gaia ripped out of him what appeared to be some purple sunny side up - but it's actually, in fact, Apollo.

And that's when we start to get some of the worst dialogue I've ever seen throughout LO. Remember when I said LO's dialogue was like Shenmue 3? Welp, the finale decided to continue that tradition and further fuel the suspicion that this entire thing was written by ChatGPT.

Oh, by the way, that "thank you, ma'am" was Artemis' first and last line of the episode. So once again, just like in Episode 248, we're completely robbed of her reaction to Apollo being a rapist piece of shit and the character development she could have had as a supporting character. The women in this "feminist retelling" really couldn't be more half-baked.

Gaia stumbles upon Persephone, and I'm not even gonna fucking bother showing the panels where Gaia says it's time to "make things right" because they literally don't matter. Why don't they matter? Because Rachel just had to get in one more pointless time skip.

We're shown a sequence of pointless images that I'm not gonna show as I don't want to waste my image limit on them, depicting Hades having a sad day because his small wife isn't with him and oh nooo what could have happened?? Did Persephone finally divorce him ??

Nah, we couldn't possibly have an actually happy ending in this comic. Instead we get a completely pointless phone conversation between Hades and Hecate-

Not only is the grammar particularly bad in this episode, but the actual script-writing is atrocious. We literally did not need this phone conversation to happen because-

-we're cutting BACK TO THE PRESENT THAT WE JUST CUT AWAY FROM FOR A 3 MONTH TIME SKIP. FOR NO REASON BESIDES SHOWING HADES BE SAD OVER SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY ISN'T THAT BIG A DEAL, AS YOU'RE ABOUT TO SEE.

I- I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDS. I HAVE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. ALL I CAN HEAR IN MY BRAIN IS THE LEGEND OF ZELDA ITEM GET MUSIC-

-BECAUSE THIS WHOLE THING SUDDENLY SOUNDS LIKE SOME CONTRIVED FETCH QUEST. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HADES AND PERSEPHONE HAVE PROVEN 'TRUE LOVE' IS REAL? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVEN'T USED 'LOVE' AS A FORCE FOR DESTRUCTION?? ARE WE FORGETTING THAT HADES MUTILATED A GUY IN THE NAME OF 'LOVE'? THAT PERSEPHONE LITERALLY INVADED THE HOME OF HADES' CANONICAL FIRST WIFE BECAUSE SHE FELT MILDLY THREATENED BY HER?

This whole concept of "true love" that Rachel is trying to convey feels so juvenile especially for a series that has sold itself as being mature and thought-provoking and progressive.

HAHAHA SO FUNNYYYYYYY why does Rachel write like this. this is, at best, the writing of a 13 year old on fanfiction.net, which I SHOULD KNOW, because I WAS ONE OF THEM. BUT I'M 28 NOW AND RACHEL HAS ANOTHER 10 YEARS ON ME.

Okay, this is the part where I'm CONVINCED Rachel either just mashed this into the episode in the MINUTES leading up to its release, or she used ChatGPT or something. Because NONE of this dialogue makes any sense. Beyond how stilted and lifeless it is (seriously, this dialogue reads like something from Empress Theresa) Gaia is clearly meant to 'replace' Erebus here which I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EVEN EXPLAIN IS SO FUCKING DUMB, but ALSO what is even Persephone trying to communicate here? "That is true, but it was a deal I was willing to make and ties me to the Underworld. Please don't change me." What? Gaia hasn't even insinuated that she's going to do anything to Persephone, why is Persephone immediately jumping to this conclusion? What does 'changing' her mean? Is she asking Gaia not to force her to sacrifice something (which she never did)? Or is she asking Gaia not to strip her of her Underworld status? Because again, why is that even something Gaia would do?

Maybe this is harsh but I'm pretty sure even Empress Theresa is more coherent than this, what in the flying fuck is Gaia talking about?

"I can just see the potential for conflict! To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres." Like... okay, first of all, that second sentence isn't even a complete sentence, it's a dependent clause left hanging, but also what the fuck does this MEAN. Is she EXCITED for the conflict but then contradicting herself by saying she wants to relieve Persephone of that conflict? Or is she saying she can see the conflict it would cause for Persephone to have to perform duties in both realms and trying to insinuate that she's going to relieve her of those complications?

Here's what I think happened - I think that second 'sentence' wasn't supposed to be a sentence, but the start of the sentence to the next panel-

So with that theory in mind, the sentence becomes, "To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres, you are to spend three months in the Mortal Realm to do spring and the rest of the year in the Underworld. That seems fair to me."

It's still a very poorly written line of dialogue, but at least with that fix in mind it makes sense. But man, you can really fucking tell this episode was submitted at the last minute because that's a serious syntax error that should NOT have happened in this two-time-Eisner-winning comic.

Errors aside, it's clear that Rachel is following through on having Persephone spend only three months in the Mortal Realm, rather than the traditional six. There ARE other translations that have that number closer to four, but those four are the time she spends in the UNDERWORLD, meaning she's always spending either equal or MORE time in the Mortal Realm. Of course, Rachel doesn't want her self-insert small wife power fantasy to actually have to be separated from Hades despite this being a retelling of The Abduction of Persephone, so instead of her spending three months in the Underworld, she's now spending them in the Mortal Realm, literally doubling the MINIMUM amount of time (four months) she was originally meant to reside in the Underworld.

But oh no, apparently those three months are STILL NOT SHORT ENOUGH FOR PERSEPHONE-

Of course, Rachel "Retcon" Smythe had to have her cake and eat it too. I always worried something like this was a possibility, but I never thought she would actually prove me right - not only is Persephone only separated from Hades for three months out of the year, but actually he can visit her any time he wants to, so really, they're not separating at all.

I think Rachel needs to look up "reunion" in the dictionary, because if you can visit each other any time, then that means the 'reunions' are no longer special occasions. This completely removes any semblance of depth or meaning from all of the storytelling leading up to this, all of it with the expectation that this was a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone, because that's what Rachel said it was going to be. At this point it's safe to say that Rachel has zero business attempting to "retell" mythological stories, because she doesn't even seem to grasp the concept of why they were written the way they were to begin with. Either that, or she really just doesn't care, and the only reason for making LO a Greek myth comic at all was to propel her career.

This also brings me back to those promotional ads, the other one that posed the question, "Will sacrifice be enough to bring these two back together?"

This is stating the obvious, but I need to make it perfectly clear - Hades and Persephone have never sacrificed a single thing. The only thing they could POSSIBLY quantify as a "sacrifice" is "not being tied at the hip for a few hours", because even Persephone going on the equivalent of a work trip next door is apparently enough to make Hades sad as we saw in the 3 month time skip panels. Why is Hades so sad and lonely if he can visit her any time? Why is he acting like he hasn't seen her in years when he's actually on his way to reunite with her? Why is Hecate calling to ask him if he's "okay" as if he JUST got separated from her, but actually he's about to literally go to the Mortal Realm to reunite with her?

Hades hasn't 'sacrificed' a damn thing, neither has Persephone. They've both always gotten exactly what they wanted, even at the cost of breaking the story's own established rules. Their 'sacrifice' is equivalent to what billionaires think are 'sacrifices' when they can't buy another yacht or go on that third overseas vacation for the month.

And even outside of this episode, when have these two ever sacrificed anything?

I've tried so hard to think of what sacrifices have been made by the characters within LO, and I genuinely can only think of one - and that was when Artemis chose to go to the Mortal Realm with Persephone instead of staying with her family in Olympus. That was a genuine, selfless sacrifice, made by a character who has been shelved in favor of focusing on the self-centered pink and blue airheads.

Being forced to be apart for a couple days to do the equivalent of a day job and whining about it the whole time is not a 'sacrifice'. Neither of these characters have ever sacrificed anything, they just feel like sacrifices because they have the integrity and empathy of soggy cardboard.

sigh Anyways, we're back in the present and Hades and Persephone immediately decide they're gonna have sex because ofc, and then we get this gem of a panel-

MMMMMM

FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY JOKE

For some reason it's just a common thing for people to just be in Hades' home, and they can't seem to get any privacy as a result of this, but I digress. Turns out they still need to have that coronation for Persephone.

There is... so much wrong in these three panels.

First, to state the immediate issues - why the fuck are they mentioning Apollo at Persephone's coronation? Like first of all, no shit Apollo isn't gonna be there, but also, if this is supposed to be an event for and about Persephone becoming Queen of the Underworld, then why in the WORLD is Apollo even being mentioned? This is supposed to be a "feminist retelling" where the victims are empowered and heal from their trauma, but LO once again can't try to show any sort of positive growth for the victims without bringing up the assaulters and giving them screen time. It just goes to show that Rachel's idea of "healing" is purely rooted in the revenge, and not the growth. It's a very high schooler approach to this subject, hellbent on showcasing how all the meanies from the past are losers now and life just sucked for them forever, but inadvertently proving its own point that the victims haven't and can't move on because the narrative is spending so much time on caring what's going on with the abusers. It's the "I don't care! Look at how little I care! I'll prove it to you by putting in the effort of showing you how little I care!" approach, it doesn't really feel like moving on.

It's not about how Persephone and his other victims could have grown and healed, no, Rachel always needs to highlight just how much worse the bullies and haters and abusers are doing to make the victims seem like they've healed by comparison. Don't get me wrong, I can understand wanting to showcase the downfall of a character like Apollo, but this just... isn't the right context for that? Because it's once again taking attention away from the victim to focus on the abuser. It's once again spending screentime on the voices of the oppressors rather than the oppressed.

And speaking of, what the fuck is this punishment even? I knew Rachel wasn't gonna be able to resolve this plotline properly, she never had the capability to, but ... community service? Are you fucking for real? What is this even a punishment for even? Was this EXCLUSIVELY the SA, or does this ALSO include his attempts to overthrow Zeus by poisoning him, nearly killing Daphne, Eris, Eros and Psyche, trapping Eros and Psyche in an enchanted basement, and framing his father's 'death' on his half-sister? Because if so, how in the world is anyone content with community service? He hasn't even been turned into a mortal, HE'S STILL A GOD, so what's to stop him from going "WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDERMAN" and trying something else? How is this a reasonable resolution in ANY context?

This is why I talked at length about what an issue it was to hide what Apollo really admitted to. Because now we really don't know what exactly he confessed to, and thus we can never really see the point of views of the victims outside of just Persephone - and we still don't even get Persephone's, because she just walks away from him and then he gets eaten by Ouranos and next we see of him is him doing community service! Once again, any emotional development that could be given to Persephone and the other victims is stripped away to make room for the point of views of the oppressive men. In this, the two-time-Eisner-winning "feminist comic" that is LO.

And that brings us to the "where are they now" segment. Yes, as we all feared, there's a "where are they now" segment, and it's as rushed and underwhelming as we ought to have expected it to be.

There is just... so much to unpack here, and yes, all of it is delivered in the dumbest way possible that only raises more questions than answers.

So Rhea and Metis are just back and we're not gonna talk about the implications of them being alive again?

Dionysus is a 3 month year old in the body of a teenager / young adult, and his mom is just alive now because Hades conveniently got his hands on more ambrosia and brought her back to life offscreen? But somehow Triptomelus and Hedone are still child-sized relative to their ages?

How did they 'heal Zeus'? And why is he so content with losing his power as King and Apollo being sentenced to community service after making an attempt on his life? How does he feel about the letter that Hera gave him? Did he even read it?

Where the fuck is Hebe in all of this? Is she okay? Do people still think it was her who put Zeus in a coma? Or did Apollo confess to that, too?

You're telling me Hera and Echo are just in a relationship now despite the fact that Hera is literally racist towards nymphs and there is ZERO reason for them to have a relationship in the comic beyond the fans making gratuitous headcanons out of it? How is Rachel, a bisexual woman, so bad at writing actual lesbian relationships and giving them the same amount of attention as the heterocis ones without shoving them into the background as props for insincere queer rep? And what about Hera herself? How did she overcome her role as the Goddess of Marriage to finally divorce Zeus?

"Ares is still a dog!" Haha! Ares is still a Persephone simp! Happy end!

Why is Eros just standing there smiling at the camera struggling to be seen past Hedone who's just floating right in front of him? You're telling me there wasn't a better place to put her out of that entire panel?

"Hades and Thanatos have been making more time for each other. Sometimes they even have a conversation." I'm sorry, is this supposed to be funny? The man abused Thanatos for years, treated him as just a lowly employee when he was literally his adopted son, and now you're trying to play it off as a joke that they're "making more time for each other"? What the fuck is this?

TGOEM disbanded? Why? What about the women who were genuinely a part of it?

Also, Artemis and Selene are just good friends now because reasons? Because they're both affiliated with the moon, I guess? Why is Selene even in this comic-

"They are still looking for Kassandra". Who? And why? This feels like such a last minute addition to acknowledge a character that the comic spent WEEKS foreshadowing only to have her finally appear as a pointless McGuffin, but it's so last minute that it does nothing. I'm assuming it's Eros and Psyche looking for her, but like... why can't they find her? They're gods, tracking down one mortal shouldn't be that difficult LOL ???

And also, where the fuck is Leto?? You're telling me she was an accessory - maybe manipulating Apollo, maybe not - but we don't see what happened to her? Is she just back to being a social outcast then? jesus christ this comic isn't finished-

Kassandra is where the "where are they now" sequence ends, and we're treated to one final horribly written dialogue scene between Hades and Persephone, where they tell each other how much they love each other in a desperate attempt to convince the audience that this is, in fact, a romance.

There's this thing in romances called chemistry, and if you're good at writing it, you shouldn't have to write dialogue like this. You should be able to see how much the characters love each other through their actions, through their small behaviors around each other. It's not always about what they say out loud, it's about what they don't have to say, because when two people really share that close of a bond based on love and trust and chemistry, words often aren't necessary.

Hades and Persephone do not have that chemistry. It has been apparent for years now, but this final exchange really is the nail in the coffin. There are no microexpressions or subtle emotions, no subtlety in their word choice, and nothing unique setting their voices apart. It's all just "wow thank you for being such a wonderful amazing partner, you are amazing and I love you" word salad that has to do all the heavy lifting for the completely non-existent chemistry that's been at its absolute worst throughout this entire season.

And worst of all, despite this story trying so hard to be focused around Persephone, around her story, her trauma and her healing, her voice... it's still all just about Hades. In the end, she's thanking Hades, and forcing him to say "you're welcome". All of it is trying so hard to convince us that Hades has been a positive addition to her life, that she 'owes' so much to him, but we've obviously seen plenty throughout the comic that begs to differ. And even if he were a better person than he is, it still doesn't change the fact that once again, the men are being held up above the women, with the women being grateful to the men who choose them. LO can try its hardest to convince people that it's feminist, but it is, at best, reinforcing the very same structures of the patriarchal system that it claims to despise and rebel against.

We do get one line from Hades acknowledging Persephone's part in the relationship-

-and it falls so fucking flat because it's still about him and what she does for him, and because nothing about their relationship was built on any sort of organic chemistry. There was a lot more chemistry back in S1, but it was still predicated on Hades lusting after a vulnerable 19 year old girl.

Yep, and that's it. That's the end.

Except it isn't because Rachel wanted to try and be smart by including an 'epilogue' that's really just stretching the episode out pointlessly for another few panels. And of course, we had to get another time skip, just a final dose of salt in the wound, this time to years ahead when we inevitably had to reconnect with Persephone and Hades in the future after Melinoe was born.

To recap, Melinoe doesn't remember... because Hades had Morpheus erase her memories.

This plotline has really started to give me the ick because it actually feels very familiar. Bear with me here, because I'm gonna go on a bit of a tangent about my own original work, but it's because I wrote a plotline exactly like this years ago.

There's this... turning point, in Time Gate: Reaper, when the main character Uzuki is kidnapped by a Reaper (see: undead) who wants to experiment on her in the hopes that he can somehow gain her abilities to bond her soul with others (which later allows her to literally possess people after she becomes a Reaper herself). Mitsuhiro, the male deuteragonist who kickstarts the plot by telling Uzuki she's got a limited amount of time left to live (which he knows thanks to his magical death timers that mark themselves on his skin), feels an immense amount of guilt after finding out she was kidnapped by the Reapers (at this point she's been gone for three months), as they were originally after him; he worries that she was made a target simply due to him associating himself with her, and vows to rescue her.

With the help of some other spunky teenagers and anime trope characters, Mitsuhiro does eventually rescue Uzuki - but for the three months she had been gone, she had been tortured, abused, and experimented on, causing her mind to split and for her to lose any sense of awareness of who Mitsuhiro or her other friends were. She was no longer herself after the hell she had been through.

Mitsuhiro's solution to this is to have Springlock - another Reaper with motivations that are not yet clear to the cast - erase her memory. This is not a light decision that comes without consequences - for the remaining duration of the story, Uzuki is plagued by night terrors and panic attacks, unable to really remember what happened to her aside from whatever brief flashbacks her brain recalls in its haze of memory loss. She is traumatized, both physically and mentally. She has lost three months of her life and memories, and doesn't know how to explain why she's covered in scars that are still healing, why she's missing organs, why she's now blind in one eye, and why the sound of scraping metal and ticking clocks gives her panic attacks. Mitsuhiro has convinced her friends that she's suffering from memory loss due to trauma, but only he knows the truth that he forcefully took her memories away from her, without her consent. This was not the right choice to make. It was not noble of him, it was not a grand gesture of love, he made a decision on her behalf without her consent that has now resulted in her becoming a nervous wreck. Sure, she still would have had PTSD if she remembered what happened, but at least she would know why and could then seek adequate help. Without those memories, she has nowhere to begin to heal. And so we see the consequences of this throughout [AFTERBIRTH] and even the upcoming Thread of Fate. It is a long-term problem that is not going to be solved overnight, especially not with Mitsuhiro withholding information from her.

Reading about Melinoe having dreams about her experiences trapped in Tartarus with Kronos ... it felt familiar enough that I had to talk about why the insinuations of this are so fucked up. I know there are people who are gonna handwave it away as "she's just a kid", "these are gods so what does it matter", etc. but ... it just feels like such an oversight to have Hades effectively erase her memory of her trauma and then hint at them still being present in her mind through her dreams. She did not ask for that. And the fact that she's now dreaming about it all does not bode well. But we're supposed to think Hades made the correct choice, regardless.

But none of this is effectively expanded on or explained, because we get one final scene of Melinoe and Demeter visiting Persephone, who has just given birth to... Makaria?

So it turns out Persephone and Hades are just able to have biological children now. Don't know why, but of course they both look exactly like Hades.

What I was really confused by though is the fact that it's Makaria and not Brimos. Do you remember Brimos? The child that was foreshadowed in Hades' original fantasy dream sequence about his future children about Persephone?

Either Rachel completely forgot about him, or she saw all the criticism over the fact that Brimos isn't a confirmed child of Hades and Persephone (rather, an epithet that can apply to basically any Underworld god including Persephone and Hades) and that her "research" was dependent on a book she read when she was 13 and decided to axe that. But she went to the effort of establishing that all the dreams Hades had were , in fact, canon visions of the future, so good job Rachel, you created yet another plothole on top of the hundreds of others.

And that's where the series ends, on a final nuclear-family-photo of Persephone, Hades, Melinoe, and Makaria. Of course, Dionysus and Thanatos aren't present in this shot because this is Lore Olympus and only biological children count /hj

Why Rachel couldn't move the "the end" portion to THIS part, I don't know, but I'm also expecting way too much of the person who finished this 20 minutes before it was due.

So that's it. Six years and that's what we get. I didn't expect much, but I was still incredibly disappointed, as were many others who walked away from this dazed and confused. Maybe it's all the "haters" deserve at this point. But what of the fans? While many of them are celebrating this ending at best and tolerating it at worst, I can't help but think of the fans of this comic who hung on for so long in the hopes it would "pay off", just for it to go out as gloriously as a wet fart.

As for me, I have such mixed feelings about Lore Olympus ending, but none of them pertain to the comic itself. Most of what I'll miss from this comic isn't the comic itself, but the people who have made reading it every week so fun, the artists and writers who have enriched the content with their own interpretations of what could have been, and the experiences of being part of such an amazing community made up of people who are as long-term-obsessed about this piece of media as I am.

I get people who ask me a lot if it's "worth it" to be so engrossed in the LO slander, who assume that I'm going to "regret" ever being a part of it all... but from where I'm standing right now, I couldn't ask for a better view.

Even if I didn't love every minute of it, everything I have here I owe to this comic. This stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing, pile of shit comic.

[tswhiisftteedr]

Hiya!! I was wondering if I could ask for some nsfw fem reader x husk (hazbin hotel) where husk basically just eating reader out, face sitting etc.

Also keep up the good writing!! I love your writing from what I’ve seen and i hope you do well with your other requests too!!

Don’t worry, I’m right here with you. ☆ Oneshot

Soft Dom!Husk x Sub!Hotel Resident!Fem!Reader:

After spending quite sometimes getting to know each other, you and husk finally begin dating. Anyways, today Lucifer came to the hotel for the first time and that was a super, but it wasn’t the main event of yours and husk’s days. So after an altercation with Alastor, husk seek solace in you for comfort, which you give, and he decides to thank you in his own special way for it.

Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, that scene where alastor uses husk soul chain and threatens him, Unspecified Vices, Mutual Pinning, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Soft Husk, Sorta Bad Written Comfort.

Words: 10567

Note: There is smut, BUT, beside the intro which is just suggestive, the smut will be at the end, so If you don’t want smut and just fluff you can just not read it. It’s the same with my last Zestial work, it’s like 3/4 sfw and 1/5 smut. Btw Antonio Esfandiar aka "The Magician" is a professional poker player and former professional magician, known for his elaborate chip tricks. That’s the only reason I mentioned him if you were curious about that lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Honestly, you had attempted to question how things had ended up like that—

“Ah, fuck, Husk, it's too much!” You cried out in overstimulation.

“Shh, it's okay, baby, I know you can handle it,” he reassured, softly stroking the underside of your right thigh to offer comfort.

— But truthfully, every train of thought you’d tried to start would derail quicker than the previous one. Without doubt, that man, Husk— he would be the end of you.

Yet, no need for worry as, I, your illustrious ‘historian,’ am here to recount the tale of how you found yourself in this predicament; as you're obviously too preoccupied getting your brains fucked out by Antonio Esfandiari over there to form any sort of recollection, or even a coherent thought for that matter.

Now, let’s backpedal four months ago, shall we?

You had been in the infernal realm for a little while, precisely half a year. You managed to secure a job and a place to stay, but ‘living’ down here was anything but easy.

To survive, you had to stretch your earnings, rationing food and water to make them last longer than they should, leaving you hungry more than once.

And when you were really desperate for cash—well, let's just say you had to resort to some unsavory means to get your hands on it.

Additionally, it had been a month since Princess Morningstar introduced her hotel to the public of the hell on 666 news. As expected, the masses of sinners inhabiting the pride ring ridiculed the princess and her redemption-themed endeavors.

Initially, the idea seemed far-fetched, as if redemption were truly an option — Why hadn't anybody else proposed it before?

That's what you and your friends had agreed upon when first watching the interview. But as time passed, you began to reconsider your friend group's shared consensus. Perhaps, just maybe, ‘redemption wasn't such a crazy concept after all.’

That's why you now found yourself standing in front of the princess's Hazbin Hotel, formerly known as Happy Hotel, nervous and with slightly sweaty palms.

Summoning all the courage you could muster, you knocked on the large, stained glass-filled windows, as ‘it was now or never’.

After waiting patiently for about five minutes, just as you were about to turn away—possibly never to return—as the building seemed vacant. The large doors swung open, revealing the princess herself standing before you.

"Um, is this the redemption hotel from the news?" you inquired, even though it was plain as day from the building's illuminated 'Hazbin Hotel' sign and the fact that the princess, the one who pitched the hotel on 666 news, was literally standing in front of you.

With the brightest and most joyful smile you'd seen down here, she opened her mouth to speak. "Oh mygod!Ohmygod!Ohmygod!Areyousomeonewho’sactuallyinterestedinthehotel???likeyougenuinelywanttotryandgiveredemptionashot???!!!Holyshit,thisisthehotel’sgreatestsinceSirPentioushasjoined!!!!" Princess Morningstar blurted out in a rush, as if she didn't deliver the information fast enough, you would leave.

As you tried to make sense of her rapid jumble of words—something about 'actually wanting to be redeemed' and someone named 'Sir Righteous' or was it 'Sir Delicious'?—you also noticed a crowd of individuals walking closer to the doors.

The group consisted of six people: A woman with an X over her eye, wielding an angelic weapon—'Delightful,' you sarcastically thought.

A grumpy tuxedo cat man with a red bow, his fur acting as some sort of substitute for his lack of shirt; he was also 'sort of handsome, y'know?'.

Then there was a snake man that screamed steampunk; he seemed sort of familiar, but you didn’t remember where you’d seen his slithery mug before.

There was also a tiny woman with one eye; she seemed full of energy and sorta stabby.

Then, second to last, we had—Unholy hell! It’s the porn actor Angel Dust! You remembered the princess mentioning him as a patron here, but you hadn’t expected to encounter him in the flesh and fur.

He seemed to notice the starstruck gaze in your eyes caused by his presence, so he shot you a wink. With a bit of internal fangirling along the way, you finally managed to get your heart rate to go back down.

You then shift your attention back to the rest of the crowd and notice the final person standing there, and HOLY SHIT, THE RADIO DEMON IS THERE—!

Your heart rate shoots back up, and you take a step back in fear, causing you to stumble over a pebble and fall on your ass. You curse yourself for being too engrossed in the sight of a celebrity to ignore the immense danger that is literally right there in front of you.

"Why, hello there, and who might you be, you wayward soul? It’s not often that we see sinners seeking out redemption." the Radio Demon inquired, accompanied by what you could only assume was his ‘iconic smile’.

You obviously didn’t know firsthand, as, for one, you hadn’t met the demon before, and for another, he was apparently in the sixth year and a half of his seven-year getaway when you manifested.

But you had heard the stories, and they were enough to make you absolutely petrified at the sight of that grin plastered on his face.

He seemed to rather enjoy your pitiful display, while you only grew more terrified.

“Oh no, are you okay? Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” The princess asked, breaking you away from your scared state and extending her hand.

With a bit of hesitation, you took it. “Uh, no. No, I’m okay, it was just a little fall.” you told her.

“Oh, okay, I’m glad it was nothing. Anyways, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, we are so glad to have you here!” She said as she began to lead you inside, and the others followed, each finding their place within the hotel;

The cat man heading to the bar, Angel Dust lounging on one of the couches, the little woman chasing bugs around, and both the radio demon and the spear-wielding woman following you and Charlie.

Once she had you comfortably seated on one of the lounge's couches, she began to introduce herself and everyone present. “Sooo, hi. I’m Charlie, the owner and founder of this hotel.”

“I think she already knows who you are, princess” the cat man interjected. “Oh, right,” she realized.

While all you could think upon hearing him speak was, 'Fuck. Even his voice is sexy.'

“Anywho, this is Alastor, our gracious facility manager.” Charlie said, pointing at the Radio Demon. “Your pleasure to meet.” he told you.

“And this is Vaggie, the co-founder and my girlfriend.” Charlie continued. Vaggie approached you, and you shook hands. “Nice to meet you.” she said. “Likewise.” you responded.

“Next up, we have Husk, our bartender, and Niffty, our cleaning staff.” she gestures towards the bar. “Nice to meet you.” Husk offers, while Niffty chimes in with a big, eccentric “Hello!”

“And lastly, we have our residents and your potential fellow guests if you decide to stay.” she adds with a slightly unsure chuckle. “Angel and Sir Pentious!”

“No offense, Charls, but the broad probably knew who I was, no need for an intro.” Angel quips teasingly before approaching you. “But anyways, it’s good to see a new face around here, so welcome, toots.” he says, extending his hand, which you shake. “Thanks for your hospitality.” you reply.

Feeling a little less on edge, you approach the final resident. “Sir Pentious, right? It’s nice to meet you.” you say, extending your hand. “Oh, no, darling, the pleasurrre izzz all mine.” he replies, shaking your hand. Just as you finish, you hear a small gasp from Charlie.

You turn to look at her, and she says apologetically, "I totally forgot to ask you for your name! I am so sorry for that." With a comforting smile, you tell her, "It’s no worries, really. I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you again, I guess."

“Nice to meet you again too, Y/N,” she says with a giggle. Then she adds, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what brought you to the hotel? I mean, what led you our way?”

“I saw your interview on 666 news with Katie Killjoy a month ago.” you tell her.

“Oh, you did? Um, did you see alllll of it?” Charlie asks, momentarily shocked and a little nervous afterward, but you understood why.

“If you’re talking about the fist fight and the news anchor on fire, yes, I did. It’s probably the thing most people remember from that news segment.” you answer her, confirming her assumptions.

“Oh, right.” Charlie says, a little embarrassed.

“Well, if you saw that, then why are you here? Are you trying to mock us in person?” Vaggie asks you, getting slightly defensive as the interview was not the best display of the hotel.

“No, nothing like that.” you reassure at first. Then you continue, “Well, actually, at first when I saw it on the news, I definitely laughed at the idea of a redemption hotel. So did my friends. Actually, I think everyone did. I heard from one of my imp friends that even in the other rings, people were making fun of it.” You say, deflating Charlie further and further with each word.

"But," you begin once more, bringing back some sort of hope to her,

"The more I thought about it, the less crazy stupid it all seemed. I mean, at first, I was like, 'If it's such a good idea, why didn't anyone think of it before?'.

Then, with more reflection, I realized that even if someone had pitched something like it before, there wouldn't be a big trace of it anyways.

I mean, you saw how people reacted when you presented it; it was made fun of and forgotten by most.

Also, considering the fact that the powerhouses of our ring profit from the fact that there are people down here to exploit, even if someone had the same idea and people to back them up, it would definitely have been shut down and covered up.

Because if people get redeemed and get out of hell, the big fishes don’t make as much profit anymore." You explain, and this seemed to reason with Charlie and the others around.

“Honestly, I think the only reason you don’t have people directly targeting you and your hotel is because you’re the princess. I mean, sure, people can make fun of you, but actually attacking you, well, that’s a no-go territory,” you add on.

And everyone, even Charlie, who seemed to like staying in the delusion that ‘in every demon there is a rainbow,’ couldn’t help but agree. If she wasn’t the princess, there was sure to be some people coming by and hurting everyone here, ‘just because.’

“Anyways, when I made peace with the concept, I thought, why not me when it came to redemption. I mean, sure, I did some unsavory things to end up down here, but I wasn’t some serial killer or sex trafficker either,” you explain further.

“Plus, I have all eternity, well, unless an exorcist’s blade or some Carmine weapon-wielding freak comes my way—“ you slightly deviate but remember to get back on track,

“Anyways, the point is if I can do whatever for ‘basically forever,’ why not give redemption a shot. I mean, worst-case scenario, I just avoid doing bad stuff for nothing, but at least that simultaneously keeps me out of trouble, so it’s not ‘that bad,’ you know?” You finish your explanation and look back at Charlie to see the immense joy in her eyes caused by someone actually taking a full interest in being part of her project.

“Well, I am so glad you think that way, Y/N. And the fact that you decided to come here even though your entourage still thinks, well, that the hotel is a joke, was very brave of you.

Also, just letting you know, as you may not be aware since it was not mentioned during the interview you watched, but here at the Hazbin Hotel, we offer free rooms, food, electricity, and if you're feeling like it, from time to time alcohol, though moderation is more than encouraged.” she informed.

“Well, that’s great. I mean, I didn’t really think about the fact that you may have asked for cash for staying here, but as it is some sort of a ‘nonprofit,’ it does make sense that you don’t.” you tell her in a relieved manner.

“Of course, we want to help people here. It wouldn’t be fair for us to ask money from our guests. Anyways, why don’t I go over what would be your weekly schedule, hotel-wise, as a resident, and then I can show you to your room?” she asked.

“That would be wonderful.” you tell her.

It had been a couple of weeks since you joined the hotel, and you would say that things have been going ‘alright.’

I mean, Charlie’s ‘activities’ were more often silly than not, but they didn’t necessarily do any harm. The hardest part was staying away from your vices—‘that was the real kicker’.

Which brings us to why you were currently seated on a bar stool, gradually drowning yourself in alcohol as Husk poured drink after drink at your request.

"You know, if you keep pushing away your vices but then return here every time instead, you're just fostering a dependence on booze," Husk cautioned, sliding your fifth Midori Sour over to you. "And when you finally have to cut out drinking altogether, you'll likely revert to your old habits. You're turning this ‘rehabilitation thing’ into a sort of yo-yo diet, if you ask me.”

You stared at the drink after finishing your previous one.

— You had first tasted something like it when you went out for your first legal drink at 21, asking for something sweet with a bit of a kick alcohol-wise.

The bartender had recommended it to you, then as you drank it, he went on a rant about how it was "made with Midori melon liqueur, lemon juice, and simple syrup" and that "It's sweet, refreshing, and has a medium alcoholic content" — the “perfect drink for you”.

He was good-looking, like the current bartender in front of you, so you had let him talk—just like you let Husk talk.

Sure, having spent a considerable amount of time down here and living well beyond his twenties, you could acknowledge that Husk did have some wisdom to himself.

However, there were moments — particularly when he embarked on his tangents about how "you won’t find your answers at the bottom of a bottle,"— then, you simply wanted to shut him up.

Whether it was by pointing out that while he might be correct in his assessment, he failed to offer real advice on how to find those answers. Saying shit like "don’t do that, there are better ways to deal with your issues" yet always neglecting to explain what those "other ways" might be — frankly, it was all quite frustrating.

But each time it occurred, you chose to keep your mouth shut to avoid any conflict. After all, from what you had observed, you genuinely liked Husk as a person and didn’t want any tension between the two of you.

Nevertheless, despite your growing frustration with the men, your mind couldn’t help but entertain the other option that would allow you to ‘catch the cat’s tongue’; wondering how quickly he would stop talking if you pressed your lips to his.

Yet, ultimately, it remained a mere fantasy, something confined to the realm of imagination, one never to enter reality. —

“Thanks, Husk,” was all you said as you took the glass and downed your goddamn Midori Sour.

Several hours had passed since your fifth drink, and more than one other had entered your system by now. You and Husk were now discussing on a more personal level.

“It’s all so weird, you know. It’s not like my soul is trapped in a contract like yours or Angel’s,” Husk’s face slightly winced at the reminder that he, in fact, didn’t own his own soul. However, he stayed quiet and let you talk without interjecting, as he respected you and you were pouring your heart out. “Yet, I can’t help but feel like it is,” you told him. “I try to be better, I really do, but it’s so, so hard not to do the bad things I’m not supposed to do when they all feel so fun and right to me in the moment. I mean, I do regret them afterward, but I keep wanting to do them anyway.”

You take a sip of your drink, and Husk follows suit. “You know, you would think the moment I feel the most trapped is right after I’ve done what I wasn’t supposed to,” you muse, contemplating the complexities of your situation. “I had my fun, and as I suffer the consequences, I feel encaged. But it’s not. It’s actually right before I even do it. I feel it in my whole body—a feeling that this is the only way for me, that I can never let go of this high.

No matter how hard I push myself to get better, to be better, I’m not really leaving the cage. I’m just pacing around in circles, pretending that the loop isn’t there and I’m actually getting away.

I just want to run, but I’m afraid that if I actually try, I’ll probably just hit my head against the cage’s bars,” you confess, tears of anxiety welling in your eyes as you begin to sniffle.

With that, Husk grabs your hand and begins to rub soothing circles on it with his thumb, offering comfort in his touch as he speaks up. “Listen, I can’t say that everything will be alright. That's bullshit, and that saying has always been bullshit, but it’s even more full of holes down here,” he pauses to take another sip of his drink, collecting his thoughts. “And I personally know firsthand how it feels to be where you are right now. And I mean it, even without the whole Alastor thing, though it is a big part of it.”

Pausing once more, then taking a big breath, “You know, I used to be an overlord once,” he reveals, capturing your attention even further. “Yeah, and it was nice to have that power. But when you’re dealing with souls while also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. And losing a few hands can be more than a little dangerous. So when you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep you afloat, even making deals yourself.”

Husk continued his story, delving into his past life before he was sent to the underworld. “But even before that shit show, I had another for me up there. Back when I was alive, I was a magician, a pretty big one at that. But at some point, I got into booze. It wasn’t a big issue at first, but it soon spiraled out of control after some other bad choices.

You see, a buddy of mine, another magician, had a gig at Caesars Palace. Being the good friend he was, he invited me along to party with him after his show. And party we did. It was one wild night—we drank, got plastered, enjoyed the company of some lovely ladies and fellas, and, most importantly, we played games.

That night marked my first taste of gambling, and it was exhilarating. I decided to play it safe and not bet too much, but it turned out Lady Luck was on my side. I won big, about two thousand dollars, while only betting twenty bucks.”

Husk paused, reflecting on those memories. “After that, I couldn’t help but come back the next day. Call it beginner's luck or whatever, but I was on a roll. In the span of two weeks, I had made enough money to last me two lifetimes.

But back then, it didn’t satisfy me, and it still didn’t when I first got down here either. Anyways, even after hitting such a big jackpot, I didn’t stop. I actually stopped magic altogether and fully transitioned to being a full-time gambler.

And for a while, it worked. But money wasn’t the only thing I got greedy with.

The amount of alcohol became too much for my body to take, and one day, I just dropped dead. A cardiac arrest was all it took to end me, while at the time it happened, I was convinced I was on top of the world.

Then I ended up down here. So, after spending quite some time just drowning myself in alcohol, only to make my alcoholism worse, I sort of got back on my feet. I became powerful and an overlord, but you already know how that went.

The both times I thought I was indestructible were also the both times when I was the reason behind why I got destroyed.”

You took hold of Husk's hand back, no longer content to simply let him hold yours.

“So now, every time I'm about to take a swig or play a game, while I may be confident in my skills, I can't shake the feeling that if I wanted to seek something else out, a different career path or way of life, I just couldn’t — that I've already burned those bridges for myself for all of eternity.

I feel trapped by my own actions and technically am too, but the worst part is that I don’t know if I’ll ever break free. But you, as you said, still have your soul. So maybe, even if it feels insurmountable right now, you can find the key to your cage and finally step out of it. And maybe, if you’re feeling generous, you can come by and try to find mine with me.”

Husk's way of speaking offered a different kind of comfort compared to Charlie's approach. Yet, it somehow brought you closure. It was honest and reliable, two things hard to find down here.

You gently squeeze his hand in a gesture of support before speaking up, "If I manage to find that key and finally step out of my cage, I promise you'll be the first person I’ll help find theirs, Husk." Your words are accompanied by a warm smile, which he reciprocates.

"Well, if you're the type to make empty promises, then I'm afraid to tell you but you're stuck with that one now, sweetheart. I'll hold you to it.” he teasingly responds, lightening the mood. "You wouldn't back out after giving a poor old soul like myself hope, now would you?"

"Never!" you assure him, the tears now long gone.

Following that evening, you and Husk grew closer, engaging in deeper conversations with each other than with the other residents.

It proved surprisingly effortless to open up to him once he shed his ‘old wise bartender’ persona. Despite the decades that separated you, both of you felt understood by the other.

Thus, when you began suggesting to Husk that you hang out together outside of the hotel, it didn't take much persuasion to get him on board. You believed it would be beneficial for him to step outside the confines of the hotel, considering it was in some part the physical manifestation entrapment.

Additionally, you planned to avoid places like casinos or bars to help both of you steer clear of your vices.

You envisioned a delightful day filled with laughter and happiness, far from anything that could potentially cause harm to either of you.

That's why you found yourselves in the fourth clothing store of the day. While you had picked up a few items from each previous store after some browsing, Husk had merely glanced around without finding anything to pique his interest.

As you perused the winter section, you stumbled upon the perfect ensemble: a charming white knitted skirt adorned with two small fluffy pompons, complemented by a matching top and a white bubble coat trimmed with fur.

Knowing you already had the perfect shoes to complete the look at home, you approached Husk with the outfit in hand.

"Soooo, what do you think of this one?" you inquired, prompting him to turn away from whatever had captured his attention to inspect your find.

"Hmm, well, it doesn't seem like it covers much. Are you sure you found it in the ‘winter section’? You'd probably freeze your ass off wearing that in the winter cold," he teased with a playful comment.

With an exaggerated sigh and a playful hip pop, you quip, "You just don’t understand, it's all about the 'aesthetic'," adding a fake tone of disdain that prompts both of you to burst into laughter at your absurdity.

Returning to a more serious tone, you inquire, "But really, aside from the fact that it's not exactly suitable for cold weather, what do you think of it?"

"Well, if we overlook the fact that you'd freeze solid walking outside in this, I have to admit the outfit is pretty nice. I think it would suit you," he replies earnestly before adding with a teasing voice, "and your aesthetic," eliciting more laughter from both of you.

You then notice something in his hands and ask, "Anywho, what do you have there?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just a little trinket that caught my eye. I probably won't buy it, though," he says, showing you the item—a watch with a roulette pattern on it. It was a bit pricey, but not overly extravagant. It looked cute and suited him well.

"It looks really nice. It would suit you very nicely," you tell him, and he smiles sheepishly in response.

"You think so? Thanks. Well, I'm going to put it back. You seem to be done with this store, so I shouldn't keep it in my hands. Wouldn't want to walk out of the store with it without paying," he says, trying to act nonchalant, but it's obvious he's a bit disappointed.

As you consider his situation, you realize that the hotel doesn't really pay Husk to work there, and all the money he used to make was based on gambling.

By staying away from it, he's basically broke now. With that realization, you make up your mind;

"Oh, wait. If you're not going to buy it, you won't mind if I do," you tell him, the gears turning in your head.

"Oh, yeah, no problem," he says as he passes the watch in its box to you.

You then proceed to the checkout and pay your dues. You ask for a separate bag for the watch, which earns you a slightly confused glance from Husk, but you don't mind. As you step out of the store, you suggest going out for ice cream to finish your outing, and he has no problem with it.

As you both enjoy your dessert, you pause to retrieve the bag containing the watch. "Here, this is for you," you tell him, offering the gift.

"Gosh, Y/N, I can't accept that. It's a very nice gift and all, but I can't just take it for nothing. I really appreciate it, really, but I don't deserve it," he rambles to you. Before he could delve further into why he possibly 'didn't deserve it,' you stop him.

"Listen, Husk, it's no problem. I have the money, so it's no big deal for me. Plus, you've become a dear friend of mine by now. Is it that bad for me to want my friends to have nice things?" you ask him.

"No, but I don't think such pricey things should be handed out to anybody just because 'you have the money,'" he states.

"But Husk, you're not just anybody, you're someone dear to me, someone I care about. When I saw the watch, I could only picture it on your wrist. I bought that watch for you and you only.

Also, before you mention returns, that store has a no-return policy.

And lastly, if you feel that bad about it, telling yourself you don’t deserve it, which is not true, you’re a wonderful man who deserves to have nice things— anyways, I interjected, my point is if you feel bad just take it as; this is a gift from me to you, for spending the day shopping around with me even though you weren’t interested in the stores we were going to,” you tell him kindly. As you see him still hesitating, you add one more thing, “Also, you can just not keep it and sell it if you really don’t want it that badly.” That breaks him away from the self-loathing he was internally building.

“Of course not, I’m not going to sell it. It’s a gift from you, a very nice gift at that, and I would never think of selling it,” he tells you, a bit protective of the gift now, which is what you wanted.

“So, looks like you’re keeping it after all.” you tell him, noticing a slight pout on his face as he realizes his words, but then he playfully rolls his eyes and now has a grin on his face. ‘Looks like he has finally accepted the gift.’

"Anyway, thanks for the watch. I’ll make sure to start wearing it as soon as we get to the hotel.” he tells you with that charming smile of his.

"I told you it was no problem." you reply, your face mirroring his.

"Also, if you're comfortable with buying me watches out of the blue, does that mean you would be into being my full-time sugar mommy—" he jokes, which you quickly shut down with a "Not even in your dreams." making both of you laugh once more.

Hangouts like this one continued, ranging from outings to different venues like theaters and restaurants to engaging in activities at the hotel.

For instance, Husk took it upon himself to teach you poker once you mentioned your lack of knowledge in the game.

It was a fun experience, filled with laughter. Turns out, you were quite good at it, although never as skilled as Husk, which occasionally led to moments of rage on your part. However, these instances always ended in laughter.

Currently, you were enjoying a drink with both Husk and Angel at the lounge’s bar;

“You’d think with all that money, he would be able to buy prescription glasses that looked like his current sunglasses,” you commented after Angel mentioned his boss, Valentino's poor eyesight.

“That's what I said! Like, if you're going to be a horrible piece of shit who literally built his empire off being one, you could at least get custom glasses so you could stop looking like an absolute moron when you read or count money. He quite literally spent half an hour counting three bills! How ridiculous is that?” Angel exclaimed, his voice fluctuating in pitch due to the alcohol.

In fact, all of you were a bit tipsy. Each of you displayed it differently—Angel was very excitable and giggly, you felt more sleepy, inclined to lie down, and Husk was more tactile, currently holding one of your hands while using the other to pet your head between sips of his drink.

That last part finally seemed to dawn on Angel, and he couldn’t help but point it out to both of you.

“So, did y’all fuck?” The effeminate fellow inquired.

“What?” You and Husk asked simultaneously, both of you pulling away from each other, visibly flustered.

“I mean, you’ve been getting cozy since we sat down, and I get that you two are ‘friends,’” Angel sarcastically emphasized the word 'friends' with air quotes, “but honestly, every time we get together and drink, you two are always holding each other. Sure, you're not openly cuddling and all, but I can’t remember the last time you weren’t holding hands when drinking. So, I think it’s reasonable for me to ask if you two are fucking” Angel explained his logic, leaving both you and Husk to face the current situation.

Despite Husk initiating the physical contact himself and you allowing it, as well as both of you holding hands, neither of you were aware of how intimate your actions appeared until Angel mentioned it.

It seems somewhat unbelievable, but it’s true.

Neither of you were consciously planning it; your bodies simply expressed your subconscious desire to be close to each other without either of you realizing it.

“Um, no, we didn’t,” you tell Angel, your voice quieter than before out of embarrassment.

“Yeah, we haven’t done anything like that,” Husk admits, matching your tone. Usually, even when talking to Angel, who was a dear friend to both of you, Husk would be more closed off about the sexual or romantic aspect of his afterlife. But the alcohol and the close proximity to you—his comfort person—seemed to have helped him be more open.

Taking a gulp of his drink and finishing it, Angel then speaks up once more. “Then do y’all wanna hook up?” he asks nonchalantly, to which both of you reply with a simultaneous “Angel!”

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," he says, accompanied by a laugh. The conversation is dropped, yet both you and Husk couldn't help but still glance at one another throughout the night, sometimes even making eye contact, which left both of you further flustered.

After Angel's comment, the next few days between you and Husk were awkward as both of you became more aware of each other's thoughts.

Neither of you outright rejected the idea of sexual attraction, and to be honest, you both had a feeling that the other felt similarly when it came to romance.

It was just awkward to actually express it, so for about a week or so, you avoided each other.

But soon the awkward tension began to dissipate. You were just more aware of each other's and your own actions, so if someone did something that crossed the lines of just being friendly, both of you would be aware of it being intentional.

For example, just like now as Husk is teaching you how to play pool;

There's nothing wrong or inappropriate about teaching your friend pool. Even when your friend corrects your form, it's still an innocent action to help you enjoy the game further as you learn the proper way to play.

However, Husk didn’t just show you how to score and watched what you did then correct your flawed form.

No, no, no, Mr. Husk over there didn’t even bother showing you beforehand how to score. He just directly positioned himself behind you, grabbed your hands, and guided you to grab the cue stick, all the while softly whispering in your ear as he directed your movements, explaining what he was doing and how it affects gameplay.

As to why Husk became so bold after a week of avoiding each other, you weren’t sure. And truth be told, he was just tired of burying his feelings deep down to avoid ruining your friendship, especially now that he knew you felt the same way he did.

That day, when you first opened up about your struggles, he felt a deep connection to you.

And when you bought him the watch, it struck a chord with him. Although he wasn’t usually one to focus on material possessions, the fact that you had spent so much on him so effortlessly meant a lot.

Especially when you insisted on him keeping it, expressing that you wanted him to have something nice.

In that moment, he felt deeply cared for, his heart racing as you assured him he deserved it and that he was dear to you.

So today, he decided to take matters into his own hands. If he had misinterpreted your signals and you rejected him, at least he would have tried, rather than spending eternity wondering ‘what if?’

"Then you do it like this," he says as he guides your hands through the motion, and you score. "You’re doing so good.” he murmurs softly near your ear. You'd like to think about the fact that praise wasn't necessary since he was literally guiding your movements, but all you could think about now is; how nice it feels to be so close to Husk. The warmth of his body against yours, how good his voice sounded so close to your ear—it's overwhelming.

Feeling like you might lose yourself if you don't act, you release the pool cue and turn to face him. Well, by facing him, I mean doing so while nearly touching faces due to how close you were to begin with. It stuns both of you for a moment, but you refuse to back down.

Leaning against the pool table for support, you muster the courage to address Husk. "Husk, um, you're really close right now..." you start, but instead of moving away, he questions, "Do you not like it?"

Feeling even more nervous, you realize lying won't work. You couldn't keep up a falsehood when it would be so obviously untruthful, and you didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "No, I like it," you admit.

"Is that all you like?" he probes further, his boldness surprising you. Before you can formulate a response, he adds, "Because I not only like being this close to you, but I also absolutely adore you." simultaneously softly caressing your cheek.

You're left breathless, muttering a quiet "fuck.." because what else could you say in this moment, besides confessing the to the man you've been attracted to since day one of meeting each other and felled in love with only a couple of months into knowing him.

But before Husk could misinterpret your use of a swear as you not being into him, you summoned all your courage and spoke out, "I also like you, Husk. Like, a lot. I found you hot since I first saw you, and soon after, I started falling for you, it’s an ‘in love-type’ of like you."

"Shit," he exclaimed, covering his mouth in disbelief. "I've also found you attractive since day one, and I think I've been in love with you since you gave me that watch," he continued, lifting the arm wearing it to showcase it. "More specifically, how you were acting towards me when you did it."

You paused for a moment, unsure of what to do next. "So, what do you want to do now?" you asked him.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Right now, all I want is to be as close as possible to you, which is far from my usual way of behaving; I'm usually more planned and collected, but when I'm with you now, I feel like I've lost my compass. Yet instead of being anxious, I feel safe and comfortable. Isn't that weird?" he mused.

"I'm not sure if it is, but if it were, would it be weirder if I felt the same way?" you asked him, to which he chuckled.

"No, I don't think it would be weirder," he replied, his hand still resting on your cheek, which you leaned into it, almost resting your head's weight completely on it.

You gazed longingly at each other for about a minute or two until you broke the silence. "So, do you want to make out?" you asked, with ‘that’ slight goofiness in your voice that Husk had come to love.

"Fuck yeah!" Husk exclaimed, mirroring your tone of voice.

His hands transitioned from holding your face and the cue stick to one of them softly gripping your hair from the back of your head —pulling you in— while the other rested on the small of your back for support.

Then your lips finally connected:

As your lips met, you felt an explosion of passion and chemistry that you had never experienced before. Your heart raced, and your pulse pounded in your ears as your mouths danced.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Husk, the gruff and often apathetic demon you befriended, was kissing you with so much intensity and desire. It was as if all his pent-up emotions and feelings were released in that single moment.

His grip on your hair tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him, and you could feel his heart beating just as fast as mine. You kissed hungrily like your (after)lives depended on it, your tongues entwining in a dance that made you shiver — especially the texture of your companion’s.

His tongue was in between one of a human and one of cat, it wasn’t unpleasant, quite the opposite actually. It did make you wonder how it would feel on other areas of your body. Also, something else to note was that he tasted like whiskey and smoke and honestly —you couldn't get enough.

Continuing on your movements, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting every inch of him. He groaned softly against your lips at that, breaking the kiss for a moment, and you could see the ‘need’ and ‘want’ in his eyes. They were filled with passion and affection, just like yours. He moved to kiss your jawline, trailing kisses down your neck, and you gasped softly, feeling his warm breath against your skin.

After a quick swipe at your collarbones, Husk's lips returned to yours, this time with even more fervor.

His kiss was deep and intense, as if he was trying to consume every part of you.

Your hands slid down his back, feeling his soft fur under your fingers. You could feel his muscles through it, and you loved the feeling. His hands shifted from the small of your back to my waist, pulling you closer to him, your bodies pressed tightly together.

The heat from your bodies mingled, creating an intoxicating warmth between you — a warmth you never wanted to ever quit.

As the intensity of the kiss lessened, your lips started to meet in smaller, delicate pecks. These little kisses were just as passionate as the previous ones, but they carried a different kind of emotion—endearment and love.

Each kiss was more intimate and loving than the last, sealing your connection in a way that words could never explain. Your hands still roamed each other, exploring, but with a gentleness to them.

Husk's hands moved from your waist to your sides, and you could feel his thumbs softly tracing circles on your waist. One of your hand still rested on his back, stroking softly, feeling every muscle, while the other was somewhat on his shoulder.

Finally, breaking the sweet pecks, you pulled away slightly, both panting and slightly out of breath. Your eyes locked, filled with a feelings so profound it was evident you had fallen hard for each other.

Husk gently grabbed the hand that was in his shoulder, pressing it to his lips with a soft kiss. His gaze met yours once again, and you could see the love and adoration shining in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful." Husk whispered, reaching out and gently cupping your face once more.

"Thanks, Husk. You're quite handsome yourself," you tell him with a smile. Then you add, "Anywho, does that mean we're dating now?"

"I'd like that, if you'll have me," he responds.

"There isn't anybody else I'd rather be with." you assure him.

After placing one last kiss on your lips, Husk says, "Same here."

It had been around two weeks since your mutual confession of feelings. Initially, you attempted to keep things low-key by staying in your separate rooms.

However, the amount of time spent together and the display of affection made it evident to everyone in the hotel that you were now a couple.

So, after just a week of attempting to maintain the facade, you both gave up and you moved into Husk's room.

Fast forward to today, the morning had been bustling with preparations for the arrival of Charlie's father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, after she received a call from him.

You pitched in with baking cookies and tidying up, alongside the other residents, to ensure the hotel looked presentable.

Unfortunately, given the hotel's initial state, it wasn't entirely surprising when the chandelier unexpectedly crashed from the ceiling.

What did caught you off guard was the sudden musical performance by the King of Hell, which Alastor swiftly joined, leading to an impromptu song battle between them. Though, the outcome remained undecided, as the duel was interrupted by Mimzy —apparently one of Alastor’s acquaintance— as she introduced herself.

Later down the road, after bothering your boyfriend at the bar, calling him ‘whiskers’, etc., Mimzy then engaged Angel, Pentious, and you in conversation about Alastor and her relationship with him.

But you found yourself more focused on your boyfriend slipping away than on her anecdotes. Consequently, instead of remaining there to listen to her babble, you decided to discreetly follow your boyfriend.

And now, you found yourself hiding around the corner, eavesdropping on the ongoing conversations;

"So once we have proof of redemption as possible, this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it," you overhear Charlie say, but the voices grow distant, making it hard to catch the rest.

What you do clearly hear is a "Hey boss" from Husk, followed by a questioning hum from Alastor. Then Husk adds, "Can I have a word?"

"What is it?" Alastor responds.

"You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs something, that bitch is trouble. And who knows what kind of demon she fucked with to come running into you this time." Husk points out.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker. Who in their right mind would cross me?" Alastor replies.

"I mean, you've been gone a while, and it's not like anybody knows why," Husk states.

"They don't need to know, and don't you worry your fuzzy head about it," Alastor dismisses.

"You may own my soul, but I ain’t your pet," Husk asserts.

Following a giggle, Alastor tells Husk, "But you are."

You're about to jump out to defend Husk, but after husk retorted with “Big talk for someone who is also on a leash.“, the atmosphere shifts, with lights flickering, leaving you petrified, especially after hearing a threatening "What did you say?"

You hear the sounds of chains and a thud, and you can only assume Alastor has dragged Husk to the floor.

"Nothing, I, um," your heart sinks at the panic in his voice, but it drops deeper once you hear Alastor's venomous words: "If you ever say that again, I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me."

Husk lets out a very quiet "Understood," and Alastor replies, "Lovely," then some subdued show tunes music starts playing, then Alastor added a "Good talk, my good man. Always nice to catch up."

After the radio demon's steps fade into silence, you finally step out of your hiding spot and rush to a trembling Husk on the floor. The first thing you do is give him a tight hug and whisper softly, "It’s going to be okay, baby. I’m here with you, Husk."

In that moment, you feel a plethora of emotions—concern and worry for Husk, fear because of Alastor, and guilt due to the fact you had stayed hidden while Husk faced Alastor alone, which makes you feel really shitty. But before guilt can consume you, you focus on getting Husk to somewhere secured, like your shared room. Once he's in a safe place, you can apologize.

With your help, Husk manages to stand up, but he's still too shaken up to walk alone. You guide him to the room, and once inside, you help him onto the bed, both of you holding each other tightly.

You softly stroked the back of his head while placing gentle kisses on his forehead. As you do, you can hear him slightly sniffle, holding back tears. It's obvious he's scared, and it's completely understandable.

You kiss his closed eyelids, and finally, the dam broke. He buries his face into your chest, and by the sounds and the wet feeling of your top, you can tell he's crying. He usually handles Alastor’s antics well, but having his soul threatened like that was just too much for him. You squeeze him tighter, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words.

“You’re going to be okay. I know it was terrifying, what you had to face. It would be for anyone. But it’s going to be okay,” you assure him, stroking his fur. Then you speak out once more, “I am so, so sorry, my love. I should have faced him with you, but I was too much of a coward to do so, so I just stayed hidden.” you apologize, and for the first time since burying himself in your chest, Husk peeks his head out. His face looks puffy from the tears, but what stands out is the empathetic look in his eyes.

“It’s… it’s okay, Y/N. Alastor—that guy, he’s terrifying. I don’t blame you for not jumping in when he got all crazy like that.” he reassures, but you can't rid yourself of the remorse.

“But I should have! That's my duty as your partner, to stand by you! What if he had snapped, and… and,” you say, strong but full of guilt. As you reach the last part, you start to stutter as thoughts rush into your head, and quieter you say, “and he had acted out on those threats.”

As Husk listened to you apologize, he couldn't help but pull you closer, his heart aching for the pain you knew you felt. His fingers traced gently along your soft skin, trying to soothe the distress within you. "Y/N, it's alright... I understand why you didn't intervene," He whispered, trying to make you feel better. His gaze fell upon your damp eyes, and he felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him. "Alastor has a way of intimidating even the strongest of us, and you're no exception."

"I've been dealing with him for years, and it's taken a toll on me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t expect you do anything in that moment, it would have potentially put you in harms way if you did. But know this, I appreciate that you came to comfort me when I needed it most." He could feel your heart pounding against his, and he held you tighter, hoping to ease your anxiety.

"I won’t get into that creepy smiling freak’s way, so he won’t do anything to me, I promise," Husk added, offering a small smile.

As you and him embraced, you felt your hearts beat in sync. Your love for each other was strong, and you knew that together, you could weather any storm.

"Mm, I guess you’re right, Husk," you said softly, your hand stroking his back in a comforting motion. "Despite my guilt, I know we’re both doing the best we can, and I'll always support you no matter what." Your words filled him with a sense of security, knowing that you were there for him through thick and thin.

"I'm glad we're in this together," he replied, his tone soft and grateful. "Even if I wasn't there for you when you needed me today, remember that I'll always have your back, no matter what Alastor throws your and our way." You tell him.

Slowly, you began to ease the tension between us by changing the subject. "Hey, do you remember that time we went to that haunted carnival in the outskirts of Hell for one of Charlie’s activity? And we got stuck on that horribly broken down Ferris wheel?" you chuckled, thinking back to the ridiculous adventure we embarked on. "We were both terrified, but we laughed our asses off, eventually.”

As he recalled the haunted carnival adventure, a soft smile formed on his face, and you couldn't help but join in his laughter. "Oh, that was a nightmare! The way we clung to each other while trying to escape that damned Ferris wheel, and we still ended up covered in cotton candy," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "I thought we'd never make it out alive."

"And don't forget about the ghostly fortune teller who told us we would be together forever," he added, giggling. "I mean, look at us now – ‘living’ proof that she was right!"

Your shared memories brought a warmth to your hearts, and tou continued to laugh about your past misadventures, pushing away the shadows of your current worries. Together, you found solace in the lightness of laughter and the strength of your bond. As you reminisced, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his heart overflowing with gratitude for this moment.

"You know, Y/N," he said, my voice warm and filled with love, "I wouldn't want to face any challenge with anyone else by my side.”

The warmth of his words washed over you, and he knew that he wanted to show you how much he appreciated your unwavering support. Leaning in, he whispered softly, "I'm glad you were here to comfort me. To show my appreciation, I want to give you something in return – a little treat for being there when I needed it most."

“Husk, baby, you know I didn’t do it for a reward.” You argue

“But I want to.” He tells you, with a look full of passion, his eyes drifted lower, taking in the sight of your delicate shorts, and he knew what he wanted to do next. And that made you weak, and you sorta blanked.

Gently, he untangled the fabric from your legs, revealing your soft, inviting skin. "Please, let me make you feel loved and appreciated too," he said, his voice low and full of desire.

As he next removed your underwear, he could feel your protests beginning to fade under the intensity of my gaze. With a determined smile, he leaned in close, pressing his lips to your skin. "I want to reward you, Y/N," he explained, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh. "Let me show you how much your support means to me."

Husk, typically recognized for his gruff exterior, revealed a tender side as he concentrated on satisfying you. His lips delicately trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, eliciting shivers down your spine.

Understanding the necessity of getting your mind off things if you wanted to get better —as dwelling only exacerbates the pain— he found solace in showering his beloved girlfriend with feelings of desire and appreciation. In his view, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, serving to uplift both of your spirits, a win-win per say;

Gently, folding your legs and pushing on your thighs to stabilize you, Husk then parted your folds with his free hand, his eyes locked on the sight before him. He took a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent, which only intensified his desire. With a purposeful hunger, he removed his hand and opted to substitute it with his tongue.

He leaned in and licked you, his tongue exploring every inch of your folds, the sensation was supreme, especially with that unusual tongue of his. As the wet muscle adventures further in your nether’s, its odd texture only becomes more pleasurable.

Especially when he would suck at your clit and let the tip of his tongue dance around it as he did. Every stroke, every caress; they spoke volumes of his appreciation for your unwavering support.

Your breath hitched as pleasure slowlybegin to build into something bigger. The intensity of Husk's actions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan in response.

"Husk, I..." you murmured, uncertain if you should continue, your voice trembling with a mix of lust, love, and ‘the obvious fact that he was making you feel too good to speak normally’. But before you could protest or anything like that, he silenced you with another expert stroke of his tongue, his eyes meeting yours with determination and love.

As Husk continued to pleasure you, he knew his actions were doing more than just giving you physical gratification; they were conveying his appreciation for your presence in his life—and that sentiment was mutually understood. And he loved that he could do it that way and you would both comprehend it.

Bringing back his hand into the mix , his skilled fingers—carefully used not to scratch you— and tongue worked in harmony, driving you towards a climax that mirrored the depth of his feelings. Your moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of your pleasure, and he couldn’t help but relish in ‘those lovely noises of yours’.

With a final flick of his tongue, Husk drew you to the edge, your body arching in response. "That's it, baby" he whispered, his voice low and seductive, yet still comforting. "Let go for me, let me see you shine."

In that moment, you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you, your body trembling and your last scream of pleasure echoing in the room. Husk watched as you reached your peak, his heart swelling with pride…

As you begin to come down from your high but not quite over it yet, Husk couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful state your real ease had caused. His heart continued to race as he regained steady breathing after momentarily being out of air while devouring you, he couldn’t help but want to experience it again. Softly, he lifted your legs and placed them on his shoulders, giving himself better access to your glistening hole and folds.

“Wait, husk I-“ you begin after realizing the change in position but you were promptly cut off as husk begin to lap at your essence directly from the source.

"You deserve this, my love," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. "I want to make you feel good, as much as you've made me feel supported."

With renewed vigor, Husk dove in once more, his tongue tracing familiar paths and exploring new ones. Your breath jiggered, and your back arched as he took you on another sensual journey that started in overstimulation. His grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, taking full control—you couldn’t run even if you want to.

He aims directly at your weak spot, and way he was sucking at your clit was just driving you absolutely mad. You gripped at his head, still unsure if you wanted to pull him away or bring him closer. He was precise and targeting but there was some hungry sloppiness to his technique.

As your second climax approached, Husk could feel your body tense, and he knew that he was about to witness something truly beautiful once more. Your cries of pleasure grew louder, and just as promised, the way your body convulsed and your face contorted was marvellous, what was not expected but still welcome was the fact that you had squirted, causing your arousal to coat his face and chest.

His eyes widened in awe, and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. "Damn, you're something else." he said, his voice filled with want but also a little teasing tone to it.

Even as you settled back onto the bed flat, Husk couldn't shake off the image of squirting. His eyes locked on your glistening skin, and he knew that he wanted to see it again. His hand travel to your face, thumb brushing lips sensually, a longing look in his eyes "One more, my love," he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I want to taste you again and see that beauty of yours unfold once more."

With a hunger that rivalled the one he had when bringing you to your first two climaxes, Husk dove in for the third time, his tongue seeking out your sensitive spots.

He craved the taste of your essence, the sound of your cries, and the sight of your strong release. You soon begin to trembled beneath him, quicker than previously but it was understandable, two orgasm in a row was about to make extra sensitive.

“Ah, fuck, Husk, it's too much!” You cried out in overstimulation.

“Shh, it's okay, baby, I know you can handle it,” he reassured, softly stroking the underside of your right thigh to offer comfort before getting his strong grip back on it.

As Husk continued to stimulate you, drawing you closer to nirvana, you found yourself liberated from all worries. In that moment, there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

As your third orgasm of the night peaked, you let out a final cry, your body convulsing with overwhelming euphoria. Once more, you squirted, coating Husk's face with your essence. This time, however, he caught most of your fluid in his moth and swallowed them, and the drops that didn’t make, he licked them off of you, his eyes close for an instances as he savoured your liquid arousal, then his eyes locked back on you.

"Oh, Husk," you breathed, your voice ragged with pleasure and emotion. "That was incredible."

He wiped the remaining droplets from his face with a satisfied grin and licked at it to make sure he gotten everything, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, his voice filled with love and satisfaction.

As you lay there, breathless and spent, Husk pulled you into his arms, his heart beating in his chest. Regaining back some of your sense, this scenery confused you a bit:

“What about you?” You inquired as he had yet to get release himself.

“Honestly the emotions and the time I spent between those sexy thighs of yours got me to tired to want anything more than to cuddle you right now.” he admired with a tired smile, which made giggle.

Your bodies still entwined, Husk leaned in and pressed his lips gently against yours. The kiss was soft, filled with love and appreciation, and it left you both feeling even more connected than before. Right here and there, you knew that despite the challenges you faced further down the road, you were in this together.

Slowly, Husk wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and you felt safe and loved in his arms. "Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "The cuddling, reassuring words, and this; they really help me calm down and feel better. I know I can rely on you when you do these things, and I strongly hope you can on me."

You nestled your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Of course I do, and don’t forget—I'll always be here for you, Husk," you promised, your voice filled with reassurance. "No matter what comes our way, I'll have your back, just like you do for me."

As the two cuddled and basking in the afterglow of your shared euphoria, you knew that your bond had grown stronger. Nothing could bother the two of you right now—except perhaps the fact that you would have to get up to bathe and change the sheets soon, but that was a problem for the ‘30 minutes to one hour future yous.’

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Top ten weird ways Oswald Cobbepot gets called in Gotham

As I was rewatching Gotham, I decided to write down every name that people in the show canonically call Oswald Cobblepot aka the Penguin. It was a wild ride. Please enjoy

10. "Funny looking fellow"

(season one)

We start with a simple one. This isn't even an insult, it's just a fact. He is, indeed, a funny looking fellow. I'm pretty sure they say it more than once too.

9. "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin"

(season two)

This one it's just silly, especially since it was written on a newspaper. Just... that's weird ? Idk it's silly it makes me chuckle

8. "Yellow rat snitch"

(season one)

We start getting a little weirder. Why a rat? And, more importantly, why yellow???

7. "Stupid lame birdbrain"

(season four)

Just so mean. Especially since this scene it's his dumb husband making a room full of people chant it

6. "Golden goose"

(season one)

Right back to season one and it's incredible dialogue. This one is particularly amazing thanks to Oswald's reply to it, which was, of course: "Honk honk". I can't even start to describe that scene. It's a classic.

5. "Beaky nosed freak"

(season five)

Definitely the best nickname the last season had to offer. Like, you know that moment when a guy kills your bestfriend/girlfriend and you call him the silliest name you can think of? This is one of those times.

4. "Scaley faced bitch"

(season one)

This is the first one in the show, directly from the first episode. I am a firm supporter of calling men bitches when they deserve it, and he did, so I wholeheartedly approve this message. Adding the scaley face part just makes it more poetic.

3. "Sad little breadhead"

(season two)

This one from never fails. Imagine it delivered with the most condicending tone in the world. Just amazing. Makes me laugh every time.

2. "Fruitcake leprechaun"

(season two)

This. This is the one that started it all. It was thinking about this one that I decided that this rewatch I was gonna write down all the nicknames. I dont know if it has something to do with english not being my first language, so I don't have the background of the word "fruitcake" used as an homophobic remark, but this name is one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life.

1. "Limping little chickenbutt second banana"

(season one)

This couldn't not be on the first place. I am obsessed with the writers of this show, i want to get inside their brains. Because like what does it mean? How did they come up with this? I need to know every thought that crossed their mind for them to write this. This is art. This is poetry. Incredible. Amazing. Absolutely insane. Kudos to the actor who played Maroni because if they gave me that line I wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face.

Bonus:

(For the fans, he is also called "the only thing Nygma cares about". Just... you know, in case you forgot)

Some recurrent nicknames are: "Pengy", "Ozzie", "freak", "cockroach", "punk", bird related names (bird/birdman, feathered friend, chicken, turkey...) and "little"/"tiny" followed by almost anything (man, friend, dirtbag, bastard, creep, twerp, freak, weasel...)

Edit: i realize i didn't mention "Major Crumblepot" and that's on me sorry guys

His haircut is described as "disco vampire hair" at one point (another classic)

He is also called "specimen", which is really funny, and "dewdropper"?? for some reason I don't remember but it was in my notes and I couldn't ignore it lmao

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench. 

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.” 

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities. 

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.” 

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?” 

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.” 

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along. 

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?” 

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected. 

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands. 

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.” 

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck. 

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness. 

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more. 

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs. 

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face. 

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?” 

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans. 

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. 

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid. 

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man. 

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip. 

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on. 

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk. 

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting. 

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip. 

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message. 

I’m serious. 

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color. 

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap. 

I’m fine with it if you are. 

Putting bats on my forearm. 

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing. 

I’m more than fine with it. 

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you. 

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear. 

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other. 

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them. 

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?” 

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom. 

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission. 

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this. 

This looked like fear. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide. 

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously. 

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce. 

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?” 

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor. 

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand. 

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand. 

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle. 

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.” 

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

 When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off. 

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.” 

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you. 

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal. 

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved. 

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low. 

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?” 

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.” 

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway. 

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing. 

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall. 

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar. 

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism. 

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it. 

On Halloween, he could just be. 

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer. 

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license. 

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie. 

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set. 

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout. 

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable. 

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you. 

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him. 

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life. 

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy. 

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second. 

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you. 

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?” 

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.” 

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart. 

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?” 

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction. 

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it. 

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking. 

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap. 

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.” 

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles. 

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine. 

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.” 

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?” 

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?” 

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room. 

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be. 

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing. 

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled. 

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out. 

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.” 

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.” 

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.” 

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis. 

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped. 

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like. 

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now. 

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel. 

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message. 

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins? 

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on. 

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze. 

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie. 

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire. 

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again. 

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine. 

“Are you?” You heard him ask. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.” 

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?” 

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz. 

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line. 

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous. 

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…” 

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?” 

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.” 

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke. 

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it. 

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way. 

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all. 

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat. 

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours. 

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day. 

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

 You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear. 

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question. 

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.” 

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled. 

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles. 

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too. 

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.” 

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did? 

Ah, fuck it. 

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.” 

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.” 

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?” 

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before. 

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out. 

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere. 

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped. 

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you. 

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked. 

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him. 

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Part 6

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

[simonnebethel]

Writeblr Introduction

Just learned what a writeblr intro is so I'm gonna make one before I go to bed lol

I've already done something like this a few days ago but that was when I had no clue what I was doing lmao, so might as well make a more in depth one

About me:

20, she/her, bi

American

I write mostly fantasy and urban fantasy, and honestly i dont think i've ever written a story that was non-fantasy lol

Started writing when I was 10, but it was mostly Warrior Cats fanfiction on Wattpad lol. I went through a writing slump for most of highschool but last year I decided to get back into it since I'm not doing anything else lol

I like to read fantasy and classic lit, also anything with vampires. I also have a soft spot for slowburn romances where the main characters dont kiss until, like, the 4th book heehee

In love with anything gothic, vampire, and wlw 👩‍❤‍💋‍👩

I think one of my more niche interests is any early 2000s fantasy/sci-fi movie with a nu-metal/rock/alternative soundtrack like Queen of the Damned and The Crow. They are just...*chefs kiss*

My current stories:

A Chant for Blood (Formerly known as Account of Calamity)

Account of Calamity is a gothic victorian fantasy about a Grand Marshal, Karliah Helisende, and a blood-drinking fiend, Yorick Gwynplaine, who work together to investigate the mysterious portals that spawn dangerous creatures into the city of Isarnan, all the while Karliah is being haunted by the mysterious ancient temple that watches over her every move.

I'm currently working on the second draft, and I may start looking for beta readers once I'm finished, although I know I'm not far from finished with this novel. I also plan to make it a 4 or 5 book series, and slowly add a slowburn romance.

12/30/24 - Second draft has been finished!!

Looking for beta readers! Look here!

Our Demonic Hearts - The Craven Pact Series #1

Our Demonic Hearts is a urban fantasy about a cambion woman, Ana Kravens, haunted by her past. Taking place in a small Mississippi town, a man she went through a traumatic incident with, Beau Motloe, shows up on her doorstep one day with a deal; help him find his missing mother, and he'll give back the memories she lost during the traumatic incident. Her father, a demonic creature of unknown origin, wants nothing more than the Motloes dead, claiming that they were the very reason his daughter was almost killed 6 years ago. Ana goes against her father's wishes and accepts Beau's deal, suspecting that her father isn't telling the whole truth about that fatal night.

It is completed and available on Wattpad and Royal Road!! It was just a small project I had done for Nanowrimo, and has been edited at least once before being published. However, I plan to make it a trilogy and maybe have some spin-offs. This story is fairly new, but most of the characters are at least 5 years old and I love them very much <3

My Plans for 2025:

Finish my fantasy romance novel, To Hear a Lovebird by February 28(currently sitting at 48k out of an estimated 60k!)...and give it a new name 😅

Start the first draft of The Craven Pact #2, which is called Our Sacred Memories!

Down the road, I may start another short story...I am not sure.

Create a Instagram account for writing...I'm not sure. We will see.

Begin the next editing phase for my Victorian fantasy novel, A Chant for Blood! I am itching to get back to working on it. I have many plans for it.

What I planned for 2024:

Finish the second draft of A Chant for Blood and look for beta readers(In the beta reader phase!) ✅

Start the second novel of The Craven Pact Series(Outline complete)

Write a short story/novella or two taking place within the A Chant for Blood universe. My brain is currently exploding with ideas rn ✅

Write a short story about Ana Kraven's mom and how she met Marchosias, Ana's father. ❌

Plan something for Nano?? Idk where I'll be in November lol (Finish a project I started in february, which is To Hear a Lovebird!)(14/22 chapters done!)

I'm interested in following other writers and reading everybody's stories! I would also be interested in a beta read/beta swap ^^

Other sites I'm on:

Wattpad: LillithOfBees

Royal Road: SimonneBethel

Bluesky: Simonne-Bethel

18+ Writing discord!!!

[cod-thoughts]

Sorry you got some bad news, I hope you're doing okay <3 Numbers for the ask game; 4, 7, 38 please!

I'll be fine, it's just stuff on top of stuff on top of stuff so uhh not the best time and i have my finals starting in a few days too so its uhhh not great but i'll be fine it is what it is :O

Ask game in question!

4: How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Oh boy theres a LOT, i use notion to like keep track of all my ideas cause it syncs nicely and its a good archive, i dont use it to write cause the spell check sucks lol but its good storage. The problem with that system tho is the moment i get an idea i jot it down there so theres currently 47 ramblings and ideas, some are similar so i eventually combine them! I did a random number generator to pick the idea lol and it was number 13: reverse dating trope, basically people not believing that a couple is together! Havent decided who yet but its probably gonna end up as a 5+1 knowing me lol

7: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This was hard, mostly cause i dont think most of my stuff is that good but id have to say this section from day 1 of ghostpriceweek and its probably the work im most proud of to this day, i just think it flowed so well and that their voices are really solid. Here's a part of it that i like for no particular reason:

"He’d finished heating up a tin of beans, stirring it absently before putting the lid on it to keep it warm, and set the kettle on for tea, knowing Price would be done soon. The small tasks felt grounding, almost domestic—there’s that word again, strange but, maybe, it was what had been playing at the edges of his mind for a while now. This rare ease, this strange new rhythm. Ghost found himself watching the steam rising from the kettle, a bit lost in the warmth that filled the air.

He wasn’t quite sure when it happened—when the lines between Price as a superior, a mentor, had blurred into something… more. It was a disquieting thought, one he’d been trying to keep at bay, though not with much success. And here he was, cooking up beans and making tea, so utterly settled in Price’s presence that the prospect of leaving, of returning to the job, made him feel something uncomfortably close to hollow.

He never imagined this was even possible for him. To be alive and wanting something so fiercely. To want a life outside of being a soldier. It was all he ever knew but as the kettle clicked and he made them a cup each, exactly how Price liked it, it hit him like a blow: this was it. This was what he wanted, more than he’d ever wanted anything.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Price emerged, towelling his hair. He’d discarded his usual gear in favour of an old grey t-shirt, soft and worn, that clung to his still-damp skin. He looked… ordinary. Beautifully ordinary. Ordinary was the wrong word entirely for that man, Ghost realised, because there was something extraordinary in the way Price took up space, in how naturally he filled the room."

38: Talk about a review that made your day.

OOO this was somehow even harder omg i love every comment or tag i get they all bring me immense joy, even if its just a bunch of emojis i love it thank you <33 but i will say that these in particular made my day as it was an absolute mess of a day and i was really doubting everything; about to delete said story but @nekrosmos the angel that he is dropped this in the tags and so did @jgvfhl (excuse the light-mode my desktop for some reason decided its in light-mode lol) and it made me literally light up and altered my brain chemistry for that whole day so thank you both genuinely <33 and sorry for the random tag whoops

[bluestrawberrybunny]

Hehe. @briandraws and @shygirl4991 because you two seemed interested in these goobers. You can ask me not to tag you anymore and that’s fine-

Still no idea what their ship name should be, so if anyone has any ideas, go ahead and feel free to share them! ^^

Gonna be writing a fic for these goobers eventually.

But yeah, Kris is taller than Donnie. In the show, he’s 5 ft 6 (from what I’ve found. My god, he’s shorter than Luigi-) and Kris is around 6 ft 1, and torments him for this relentlessly.

So, some more general info about this ship below the cut because these dorks and consuming my brain rn. I guess kinda spoilers for the fic?? IDK. It’s more a quick rundown of the plot. If you wanna read the fic I’m gonna write blind, then ignore it.

Kris used to be a Purple Dragon, but sort of switched sides shortly after they started working for Shredder. He sort of became an informant for the turtles, having struck a deal with them so that he could continue to keep the reputation of being a Purple Dragon without actually having to deal with the beat-downs the turtles would give them.

Kris is a year older than the turtles, Casey, and April.

Before they found out that he’s a part of the Purple Dragons, April ended up having a crush on him during her stint of time hating the turtles after her father was mutated. But Kris wasn’t into her and shut her down quick.

At some point, the Purple Dragons and Shredder find out about Kris betraying them and beats him up, threatening to hurt his family if he dares to double cross them again, which leads to him fighting the turtles.

Donnie is confused by all of this and knows something is up, so he heads to Kris’ apartment, where he finds out that he lives with his elderly grandpa and helps take care of his triplet younger siblings (Mark, Ethan, and Amy (If you get the reference you now platonically own my heart)) alongside his twin brother Manny. Donnie then promises Kris that he’ll help him, and Kris sort of brushes him off.

But eventually the foot do kidnap Kris’ family (who had no idea he was a Purple Dragon either), and the turtles jump in to help Kris rescue them, which is when Kris finally decides to quit the Purple Dragons for good and join the team. All of this takes place before the Kraang invasion of New York, so he and his siblings are there for season 3’s events, and Kris joins in for season 4’s events too because my boy is going to space. Manny doesn’t get involved much because he is not much of a fighter. Although he and Mikey do become friends who begin shipping Kris and Donnie together once they see how the two interact.

April is ecstatic over Kris joining the team, and Donnie is now unsure of how he feels about the whole situation because he’s still having his bi awakening, y’all.

But he does have some rivalry with Kris, similar to how he does with Casey, although it is very one-sided. Kris just goes along with it cuz he’s grown to love messing with him.

But after Kris shuts April down for the umpteenth time (yes, she goes after him like Donnie does with her because haha irony-), Donnie realizes that he isn’t really competition for April’s affections. But he still keeps doing what he’s doing and having this rivalry with him, even though April has been completely removed from the equation.

Haha, turns out he’s bi and has a thing for Kris and this realization sends our beloved Donatello SPIRALING.

And to my fellow TMNT 2012 fans… remember the Bigfoot episode?

Kris is absolutely seething with jealousy towards Bigfoot throughout that whole thing. My guy turns greener than all the turtles combined with jealousy. He’s actually the reason Bigfoot runs away because dude just snaps of her for daring to get so close to Donnie and keep bugging him like that.

He eventually confesses to this once the turtles tell him off, although he does say it’s because Bigfoot was “being creepy” towards his “friend” *cough* crush *cough* and that it made him uncomfortable to see Donnie uncomfortable.

And, Donnie may be a genius on paper, but he is dumber than a box of rocks with this shit because he completely misses all the signs that Kris is in love with him. Like… my guy a bit stoopid and I love him for it.

Not gonna spoil how they get together tho.

But as an official couple, they are unbearable. Kris will annoy Donnie while he is working. Donnie will drag Kris into his science stuff and ramble about it for hours. No, Kris will not understand a single word he said but will listen to the yapping anyway.

Kris also came up with a stupid human disguise that somehow worked so he and Donnie can go on dates in public, although they do frequent Murakami’s place for the obvious reasons (although it was strange when Kris first showed up there since he was sort of involved in that first fight but had ran the second he saw 4 giant turtles come in and beat up his… coworkers?? They definitely weren’t really friends. Bro was a part of the gang for survival purposes only)

They are insufferable when it comes to PDA after a while. It takes Donnie a bit to get used to it, since… first boyfriend and first relationship, but once he’s warmed up to it, he’s all for it. Hand holding, kissing, cuddling, they even started calling each other those cheesy pet names, but only in front of others. Like, Honey-Bun, Turtle-Pie, Schmoopikins, all of those.

Kris brews Donnie’s coffee and will drag his ass to bed if it kills him. He takes care of 3 9 year olds. He can handle a grown-ass (sort of…) turtle.

So… that’s all for now :3

[magnusbae]

13 books

What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!

Tagged by @cuubism Thank you!! 💖 Heads up: if you're tagged, you don't need to read it alllll even if you do want to participate 😌

1) The Last book I read:

I'm pretty sure it was Tress of the Emerald Sea, what a delight!

2) A book I recommend:

.... The Way of Kings... (The Stormlight Archive)

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

The second book of The Stormlight Archive, Words of Radiance had me by my throat like nothing else. wow. 👏🏻

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

Listen. I'll list something other than The Stormlight Archive just because this is getting embarrassing. The books I used to regularly reread were: HP, Eragon and Assassin's Apprentice. (full series rereads, crossing the 10 each) 😌

5) A book on my TBR:

I have a hefty amount of books I bought and never read. Ranging from classics to cheap fantasy-- but alas, my brain is fixated on the other author who doesn't disappoint me and so I just stick to his books XD

Some of the books sitting on my ineffective 'shame you into reading' shelf are: Captive Prince, the rest of the Wolfsong series, the.... shadowhunters books... the new trilogy about Fitz which I have in hardcovers yet never read. And some... others...

6) A book I’ve put down:

One of the reasons I am avoidant of taking on new books at all is because I have a very hard time putting down books I started. I'll suffer through entire series just for the few grains of gratification in the end. Or to... spitefullfy and confidently say it sucked balls.

However... three series managed to break me.

First being GoT, I just didn't manage to get through, not even 10 chapters. A true oddedity for me, but I just couldn't.

Second being The Witcher. I managed to power through like 4-5 books? And then I just couldn't do this to myself anymore. It was so, so, so not my vibe. (even while the pc game is about my most favorite game ever.) 🤷🏻‍♀️

And lastly, although I think I did finish the entire series before deciding that if ever a new book came out, I'll never read it, was the-- god what's the name of it... the First Law Trilogy – The Blade Itself etc from joe abercrombie. What a bleak series! Oh my god!

7) A book on my wish list:

My honest wishlist is just to keep on reading Brando Sando in my slow and enjoying-it phase... Although I admit that there's a large amount of those new spicy fantasy books apparently being released that shorts recommend and older folk rant about, so I naturally do want to check it out to see what's up with that but.... in truth... I just want to keep on enjoying Brando Sando XD

8) A favorite book from childhood:

I genuinely really loved Eragon. Oh and Artemis Fowl was all fun. I also really loved Tunnel in the Sky, like really.

9) A book you would give to a friend:

ngl it'll be an unapologetic The Way of Kings with big and passionate begging session of 'please give it a try' like for real.

In case any one of you is actually interested--- (you don't have to read this part) -inhales deeply-

The Way of Kings is a truly misleading book, that might leave you with the impression that the book is all about wars and kings but that is the furthest from the truth a description and a cover and a name can go.

It has fantasy, it has deep and rich world building, elaborate magic system that is deeply embedded into the story, culture and literal every single stone of the world. There's politics, culture, introspection, deep and varied characters, each reading like the main character of the story, having unique and vibrant personality and motivations.

It is not just a book, it is a work of true and deep love for the genre and writing in general. Beautifully done, enriching and enticing.

And what's most important for people who read too many books?

Hard to predict. It managed to pull the rug from underneath my feet in the most surprising and pleasing ways. Brandon writes in a way that is not 'shock just to shock' nor 'drama just for drama'. Every single scene is true, and forward. You always have everything right in front of you, the key is that you do not know how to put it all together just yet.

That can finally give that refreshing 'I don't know where it's heading but I'm enjoying the experience" I feel I had lost over the years, being able to recognize patterns too easily and predict writing intentions.

God, what a book! It does however have a rough learning curve, being such a massive world, it takes time to ease you in. Say about at least 5 chapters in at the minimum. On a personal note, I recommend the audiobooks read by kate reading and michael kramer, literally the best experience I've ever had, listening to those two bring to life every character and accent and scene, wow!

10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own:

Come to think of it, I don't actually own any. Ha.

11) A nonfiction book you own:

I don't haha! Looking back, it's a lie, I have a few phycology books gathering dust in various hiding spots.

12) What are you currently reading:

........The Way of Kings....

13) What are you planning on reading next?

.....Words of Radiance.... haha. 😋

Y'all don't need to read all them answers in case you just want to answer it for yourself, or you can skip, too 😊😊😊

@mayhemspreadingguy, @pollyp, @nonbinary-nicolo, @msmongoose, @hardly-an-escape,

@ladymatt, @underacalicosky, @grapenehifics, @your-lordsherlockholmes-posts

@acedragontype, @palfriendpatine66, @heretolurkandnothingmore , @virahaus, @wallsinmyhead

@kittttycakes, @elcaballerodragon, @justsuffilike, @pumpkinkingsalem, @handahbear

@willameena

I am certain this is 13, I am certain. Cheers 💖💖💖

[immoralimmortals]

The intro chapter to ASWTN is forever iconic omg… After recently rereading some of the earlier chapters, I actually was wondering what it would’ve been like if Takara had met a different pair of the Akatsuki first instead of Hidan and Kakuzu, or if it was ever something you considered while writing 👀 or did you always have a specific idea in mind to how and when Takara meets the Akatsuki?

Also thanks for sharing your amazing writing with the internet <3 it’s one of my favorite fics of all time!

So there are three reasons why Hidan and Kakuzu meet her first.

1st and most importantly...it's fucking funny. Funniest option. Hands down. While I'm flattered that you say it's iconic-- I, too, love it when people die--, I also think it wouldn't be iconic if it was anyone else. I think the circumstance is so, so interesting. You take the two people the most resistant to being, let's say, "normal human beings in regular social situations", and you give them a whole lady. That's absolutely rife with possibilities!

2nd reason, and honestly the deciding factor for me: I find this introduction to be the most believable, workable way to cause amicable interaction between Takara and the zombies. I can't see them getting along with her nearly as well if introduced under duress of orders. Doing it on their own free will, however...that breaks the ice a lot for them.

3rd reason: I can't really see any other pairs attaching so much to her at the beginning, unless she just fell directly into Amegakure. Because the other Akatsuki are more socially acclimated, that also means they can be normal about meeting someone like Takara and then be capable of moving on. Hidan takes on Takara in a spur of religious fervor, and Kakuzu begins working with her to make money (and *cough cough* he pities her and sees himself in her for being absolutely fucking lost, on the run, and in need of starting a new life). The other guys would be like "well that was interesting, I suppose" and then skip to the next town. She'd be halfway to Konoha by chapter 5.

The whole first chapter is my perfect storm of two guys who'd normally have no interest in a civilian abruptly changing their lives to accommodate her existence. I don't think it's entirely *impossible* for the fic to have started otherwise, but I'd need to wrack my brain for a new set of circumstances that'd make another, custom fit perfect storm for different members, and THEN find another way for Hidan and Kakuzu to fit in after. I suppose an alternative version of the story would be her meeting Pain and Konan (because nothing gets past from under their nose) and them realizing right away something's up.

Thank you for the ask! I'm glad you enjoy the fic and I'm happy to share it <3

[winterwump]

Hii ? Could you do some gun x reader x goo nsfw pls ? I love them sm 💞💞

💦Good Things Cum in 3’s💦

Summary: For this fic, you my dear reader, are a luxury escort. Like you are expansive so of course these two pay for a night with you. Oh, and your sex worker name is Kitty in this!

Note: Heads up, this is a long one. 1,600 words long to be exact. I’m aware of this lol. I just have a lot to say when writing these two.

Au: I hope you guys enjoy thissss🤍🤍🤍

*Ting!!!*

A familiar chime came from your phone. For a Friday night, it was rather slow for you so you decided to stay home and lounge, it's not like anyone would request you now. Initially, you paid no mind to the chime of your phone because you were too busy watching some brain-melting variety show, but after a good two minutes of ignoring the chime, a call came through. It was from a private number which indicated that this was a client.

“Fuck!!”, you gasped half-annoyed-half-surprised. Time to put on your *business* voice: “Hello~ you’ve reached Kitty, how can I help you?~”

“Now you pick up?” - the voice on the line sighed - “Whatever, are your services available tonight?”

You chose to ignore that hint of attitude - “Of course my sources are available!! How many people am I servicing?” - You said the last part through lightly-gritted teeth. The noise in the background sounded like at least 5 people.

“Just two. Is $20,000 okay for the whole night?” - His tone, though inquisitive, still had an air of confidence to it.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sheer weight of that number because even though you get paid quite a lot doing this job, you’ve never seen anything over $1,000 in one night. Oh yea, this man had money for sure. Realizing that you hadn’t given him a response yet, you begin to fumble over yourself to get a response to such a good offer. After running through your apartment looking for something to write info down on you finally managed an answer:

“$20,000?!?! Tha-that's more than good, Sir. Just give me the details and I’ll be ov-” - As soon as you clicked your pen to begin writing, the man cut you off.

“No need for that. I’ll send someone to pick you up from your place. I don’t want you on the subway at night.”

In your time as an escort, you’ve never been above driving to see clients or taking the metro, so long as the money was good. But sending a driver? Oh, that was classy. Now that you’ve picked your jaw off the floor, you finally spoke again:

“What a gentleman!! Let me give you my info, and I’ll be ready soon. We can discuss payment in person.” 

“Sounds good to me” - The man on the line affirmed, he sounded amused already.

After the quick exchange of info on your part, and the exchange of names, you hung up and began primping yourself for the night ahead of you. The look you chose had a simple yet sultry kind of vibe in both makeup and clothing. This kind of look was your go-to for very good reason, it attracts many high-paying customers clearly. In an act of serendipity, the second you were done getting ready, the ride sent for you had arrived. And yea, this was the real deal alright.

He’d sent a black Rolls Royce Phantom with tinted windows, it was perfect for sneaking around in the dead of night. The stoned-faced driver helped you in and the ride had commenced. The drive itself wasn't long but God did it feel like it. What with your nerves and all. $20,000?! That was all your mind kept repeating. That was an absurd amount of money to drop on a single escort for a single night!! Your mind couldn’t help but want into unsavory places: ‘What exactly would they make you do? Are they gonna…hurt you?’

Before your mind could fully expound on that horrid line of thought, the driver had opened your door and motioned politely for you to get out. Still frazzled, you took the driver’s held-out hand and got to your feet. The flawless steel building before you made you gulp in shaky anticipation. After thanking the driver appropriately, you made your way to your destination

And getting up there really didn’t take as much time as you thought it was. The pre-work jitters always hit you, but this time was different. With a sigh and your money-making smile plastered on your face, you began to ring the doorbell. The man on the phone said his name was Gun, but this clearly wasn’t him. The man that greeted you at the door was a blonde in one of those hard-on-the-eyes golden Versace robes, he grinned:

"Well hello there. Are you Kitty?" - Despite being obviously tipsy, his voice was smooth.

So you were at the right place. - "That’s me!! You’re not Gun, are you?"- Being the performer you are, you matched his tone.

With a hearty laugh, the blonde let you in and tailed behind you as you made your way to the foyer. "Nope!!, Gun's right there." - He pointed at the lounging on the sectional couch - "I'm Goo."

Looking back and forth between the two men, you knew you were in for a trip tonight. 

The three of you wasted little time no in getting the party started after a few drinks. With your head already spinning from the liquor, you found yourself laid out on the soft expanse of the bed with Gun's head between your already shaking legs, and Goo at your side lining your bare neck in hickies and kisses. You went back and forth between whining softly, and moaning wildly as waves of pleasure washed over you when Gun pressed his tongue into the tight heat of your pussy.

Seeming to want attention on him, Goo got what he wanted when he whispered in your ear: "You should put that pretty mouth to use and suck me off, Babe."

His voice sent a shiver down your spine and after giving Goo a demure nod, you were presented with a mouth-wateringly erect cock. You hungrily eyed the length in front of you and felt your well-tended-to pussy throbbed. Goo rest a hand on your head and guided your lips to his blushed tip, and watched as you began to work your mouth around his length. The initial heat of your tongue drew out a breathy moan from the blonde, he gripped your hair and it made your pussy throb even more.

Feeling just how wanton your pussy was, Gun gave your clit one last languid lick before pulling away to tend to his own erection. You had no time to protest the loss of his tongue, because he replaced it with the even more pleasurable sensation of his cock rubbing along your rosy folds. The way you moaned around Goo's cock in response to Gun's teasing was downright sinful, and it wasn’t lost on either of them that you were getting close to cumming already. This was clearly their plan, and you were all for it.

"Go ahead and cum, Baby, we’re just getting started" - Goo cooed affectionately, giving you a little 'boop' on the nose before shoving his cock further down your throat.

From looking up at Goo, you let your mind wander to Gun as he massaged the tip of his cock at your leaking entrance. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would sound while deep in pleasure, he'd been quiet so far and you just needed to know what he was like unravelled. Right as your jaw was beginning to slack from taking Goo's impressive length, you felt your inner walls be invaded in the best way possible by Gun's cock. The intrusion was a welcome one, as he let out a guttural moan upon feeling your tightness.

The way you kept moaning served well in turning Goo on even more. The blond was sure that he was going to cum soon if this kept up, so he grabbed your hair and began to use your throat. You were drooling at this point, but it seemed like Goo loved the wet noises that accompanied your throat being fucked. 

"Come on baby, I you can take it!" - Goo encouraged amidst your gagging.

Seeming to be on the wavelength as the blonde, Gun took on a brutal pace- holding your hips till while pounding your obscenely wet pussy. Between your throat being thoroughly fucked by Goo and the punishing thrusts from Gun, you were starting to get overstimulated. But it was welcomed in this case because you were cumming in quick succession without the two men giving you so much as a break in between your dramatic orgasms. The first orgasm of the night, aside from your own, was from Gun when he had broken his rough tempo to pull out of your now gaping entrance and painted both your back and ass with his cum. His moans were heavenly, and it seemed like Goo agreed because you heard a moan leave his mouth in reaction. Did they ever?...

You heard them laugh amongst each other when they switched positions, your body was somehow loose and noodley but your pussy remained tight for them. And through your lust-filled haze, you found yourself laughing at the contrast too. From riding Goo till you squirted on his stomach to Gun covering you in hickies during missionary, you were still needy for more. You had no concept of how much time has passed, everything that wasn’t the two men had melted into obscurity. It was safe to say that you were thoroughly fucked-out for the night.

This was the best $20k you've ever made.

Damn, 1,600 words!! Sheesh, I hope ya'll enjoyed this cuz I sure did.

The place I had in mind for Gun and Goo's penthouse was JiPyung's house from the Kdrama "Start-Up". Cuz I just know that those idiots live together😏

BYE!!!

[piratefishmama]

I got tagged in a questions thingy.

by: @w1ll0wtr33  thanks sweets!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope, my name was in fact a mistake made by a nurse! It was supposed to be a hyphenated combination of my first and middle name, but the person doing the birth certificate made an error.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Like… fully? Uhm. August? The day before my dad got out of the hospital I had a full blown panic attack cause I knew I’d be alone in taking care of his asshole self and wasn’t prepared to do that. There was crying involved in that.

3. do you have kids?

I would sooner rip my own uterus and womb out, Netflix Witcher style than have children.

Storytime: My mum once bought me a £75 stroller and doll, an this was years ago, like, single digits age range so that was EXPENSIVE for the time (fuck man, it’s expensive now lmao), I… left it out as far away from the house as I, at my age, could... in the rain. An it was all silk and satin material so it was well and truly fucked.

They stopped expecting eventual grandchildren from me very early on in my life.

4. What sports do you/have you play/played?

Does archery count? I feel like archery should count lmao I do archery, and I used to do ju-jitsu, I have medals somewhere for ju-jitsu, god knows where though my medals were never worth keeping track of apparently. My brother's are in his old room.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Fluently.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

That they’ve invaded my carefully curated alone time and thus have become my enemy.

7. what’s your eye colour?

Hazel, with more green than brown.

They're also my favourite eye colour too! there’s so many variations of it, do you have more green or brown in it? is there a ring of darker colour around your iris or not? Hazel has so many variations it’s such a pretty eye colour to have and it changes. Hazel eyes are magic.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Thanks to my truly stellar vivid imagination and Childhood Trauma™️, I cannot watch scary movies. At least not ones that have plausibility. Like they could happen. Because for some reason, everytime I watch one of those, my brain ever so lovingly decides to recreate the movie in the form of a nightmare where all the starring cast are people I actually care about an I’m just. watching them all die.

It's never fun. And I can never escape it. Even waking up, if I go to sleep, I will go right back into that nightmare, there’s no escape.

9. any talents?

Many! i have ADHD and autism, I have so many random skills. The only one I can reliably do on command though is writing. I can draw, paint, sew, sing, dance, and many others… sometimes, but the only one I can reliably do without fail, is write.

10. where were you born?

Britain. You don’t get closer than that I ain’t about to dox myself.

11. what are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, video games, creating shit.

12. do you have any pets?

Hope and Shadow are my two dogs, you all know them by now I’m sure. I have a shitton of tropical fish in tanks both upstairs and down, I did have a very smol bird but I had to put him up for adoption as unfortunately he and Hope simply did not get along, she made him very anxious and he made her hungry for bird.

13. how tall are you?

I’m tiny, 4’11.

14. favourite subject in school?

English. I had a great teacher. It would have been art but unfortunately I hated my teacher, and my teacher hated me and that made the lessons very uncomfortable.

15. dream job?

I would love to work with animals. Animals are easier than people.

And no, i'm not tagging people.

[ataliagold]

20 Questions For Writers!

I was tagged by @steviewashere, thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 72.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

513,481, which...has really escalated from deciding to post a random oneshot back in 2022...

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Stranger Things so far, and really just Steddie, but I also love exploring the Steve and Robin and Steve and Dustin dynamics within my fics too.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Wreckage Of You I No Longer Reside In

I Can Wait For You At The Bottom

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy (which surprised me, being a recent oneshot)

My, My, Those Eyes Like Fire

Oh Darling, Please Be Mine

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, always. I'm grateful that people take the time to comment and they always make my day, so I respond.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't actually think any of my fics have angsty endings because I can't write anything except happy endings...if pushed I'd say As The Light Fades From The Screen , because it ends on a pretty grim note with Steve having been involved in a serious car crash but it's part of a series and is later resolved with Steve being ok, so I'm not sure if it counts.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them...haha. If I had to pick, probably The Wreckage Of You I No Longer Reside In. I sometimes struggle with endings, but I was happy with that one, and Steve Eddie and Dustin were just a lovely little family by the end of it.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Once. Someone took the time to read a 65k fic then write an essay in the comments about everything they hated about it, then messaged me telling me to never write again etc. I'm still confused as to why they chose to read the whole thing, but people are odd I guess.

Another time I got an odd comment from someone upset I included a very common tree in a fic because apparently it doesn't grow in Indiana. I wouldn't really count it as hate, I just thought it was a strange thing to get worked up about.

Thankfully, everyone else has been lovely.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

There's a little in some of my longer fics, it's just pretty soft and sweet. I find it kind of awkward to write for no particular reason, I just don't think it's a strength of mine.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. I tend to get obsessed with one thing at a time, so I don't think I'd ever have any interest in writing a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but quite happy for someone to if they ever wanted to!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I co-write the It Was Always Burning series with @floral--sunrise, there's 65 works in that series, some written by me and others by floralsunrise. So we individually write the fics but work together on overarching storylines etc.

As for co-writing an actual fic, I'm not too sure about if I'd do it, I'd have to think about it and it depends on the person. Definitely wouldn't rule it out!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Steddie, hands down. I've been in fandoms for a long time, since I was about...12, and while other ships like Destiel have pulled me in for a while, nothing's rotted my brain like Steddie.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you will?

Well...I only have one fic that I stopped writing, and that's Love Like Ghosts. I stopped for a couple of reasons - it wasn't getting much attention and I needed that back then, I'd only written a couple of things and needed feedback for some validation, I think, which I'm less bothered about now. I also had an idea for another fic at the same time which turned into Oh Darling, Please Be Mine, that one was more in my comfort zone and I ended up focusing on that.

But I still think about that fic often, and I think I'm going to go back to it maybe later this year. I really liked the storyline and that it was darker than what I usually write, and I had some pretty good ideas for it.

I did have another one that I'd written about 20 - 30k on, and had a few chapters up on AO3 when my laptop decided to delete the whole file and I couldn't get it back, I was so angry about it that I deleted it off AO3 and never started it again.

So I don't really have an answer to that question, because the only unfinished WIP I think I will finish one day!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ummmm...I'm not good at talking myself up but I think I'm quite good at dialogue. I've been told a couple of times that the characters seem pretty true to themselves in my fics, even if the story is very AU, so there's that I guess.

Also I think action scenes I'm quite good at - there's a fair bit of violence in some of my longer fics, especially My, My, Those Eyes Like Fire and Keep My Hand In Yours, and I really enjoy writing those scenes.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot, sometimes. Probably because I don't plan longer fics in advance - I have an idea, a couple of key scenes, and a vague idea of an ending and then I just start writing. I don't do any planning, nothing - I just write and see what happens. Which has usually served me really well, but sometimes I get to a scene and I'm like...well now what?

Keep My Hand In Yours was the plottiest thing I've ever written, and I did really enjoy that one, so I think that's helped a bit.

Also smut. Just feels weird to write for me, maybe because I haven't written a lot of it.

And endings, I sometimes find it hard to wrap up a fic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't know any other languages, so I don't think I'd be very good at it. I'd be worried if I did try to use another language I'd butcher it, or the translation would be weird...so no, I don't think I would? Unless someone who spoke the language was helping me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Not sure if this counts but when I was a kid I used to handwrite Doctor Who stories, mostly where I was the companion and travelling around in the TARDIS. I didn't know what fanfiction was back then, but there you go.

I wrote some Supernatural stuff too a long time ago but I'm pretty sure I never uploaded it anywhere.

Other than that, just Stranger Things.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I'm gonna go with what Stevie did and go top 5, because I can't decide.

The Wreckage Of You I No Reside In - This is the second fic I wrote, and first multi-chapter, and still my most popular fic. I wrote it when I had covid and was stuck in the house with nothing to do, and never expected the response to it that it got. This fic has a special place in my heart, but I've never read it back because I think there'd be stuff I would change now, being more experienced now than I was then. But I love it anyway.

My, My, Those Eyes Like Fire - This one was fun to write. It had a lot of action, (and sword fights which...I love) and was purely inspired by Joe Keery in his gladiator outfit for Finalmente L'alba. A very kind person made a ficbind of it, and I had some art commissioned for it too that I'm obsessed with.

I Can Wait For You At The Bottom - One of my angstiest fics, involving a severely depressed Steve and suicidal ideation. I enjoyed exploring Steve being at rock bottom and Eddie, Robin and Wayne helping him back to his feet.

Keep My Hand In Yours - My longest fic. I'd wanted to write a zombie apocalypse fic for so long, and this is what happened when I did. Probably the one with the most Steve whump too, and I really enjoy some Steve whump.

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy - This was just a little oneshot where I wanted to project my dyscalculia onto Steve, and it was quite personal and sort of therapeutic to write.

Tagging some people to participate if you want to! @runninriot @augustjustice @katyawriteswhump

[winter-spark]

I know that after those 2 small Madoka thoughts I had I said I'd stay in my lane but my film/media brain is like "hey hey hey remember that "cool" thought you had?" So. Even though Chikage is still not my lane, my film brain wants to discuss the neatness/niftyness/cleverness (idk which word I'm looking for) of Act 8 & the slight step further it could've been pushed, in reference to Act 5 of course. Besides if the Zafran princes are my lane(I'm kinda forcing myself on them actually, I'm probably not the best person to claim them but here we are), and Citron is both a Zafran Prince & in Spring Troupe and Chikage is in Spring Troupe, Chikage is my lane adjacent. Still though if I say something that makes you go "well actually" please ignore me. Let me have 0 notes due to being wrong about something, it's okay. Really.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Act 5 (Chikage's storyline) recap - Paragraph 1 Act 8 (Zafra storyline) "mini" recap -Paragraph 2 Cleverness - Paragraph 4 The Potential Push - Paragraphs 5-8 Conclusion - Paragraph 9 Too long, didn't read: I like the parallel between Chikage's abducting to destroy in Act 5, & rescuing to protect in Act 8. As a film major I feel the rescue coulda been used to move his relationships forward in a way had there been any (realistic) animosity/hesitance lingering.

So as we all may or may not (idk) know, in Act 5 Chikage infiltrates Mankai by being let in through the front door(he's undercover shush!) and sees how Mankai is one big happy family. Feeling betrayed by Hisoka/having some misinformation he decides to get his revenge: Hisoka entered then ruined his happy family (and abandoned him), so he would do the same to Hisoka. In this he comes up with a simple Preminger plan: Izumi, the center of Mankai, goes missing, Mankai disbands. (This plan would've worked best if he snatched up Sakuya alongwith Sakyo &/or Isuke too, just saying. Those four are the reason Mankai stands today. Fact. But also imagine them having to navigate the coleads, director, financer and manager mia, woulda been harder to pull off and come back from but Mankai woulda been a mess) So he kidnaps Izumi, Hisoka comes to save & reconcile, they all go home. Izumi lies for Chikage, Chikage later shares that he actually did abducted her(without reasoning as to why ehich leaves open a bit of skepticism but yada yada we get the point).

In Act 8, (let's see how quick I can give the setup), Guy comes and reveals Citron is next in line for the throne and that there are some others who support his brothers being next in line and of them there are extremists(every cause has some extremists am I right or am I right?), Citron knowing Chikage got the capabilities to make people disappear w/out a trace asks Chikage to help him dip for Zafra early w/out Guy (also remind me to write about Citron's "selfishness"(there's a different word I'm thinking of but this'll have to do) pls I have thoughts); Mankai first begrudgingly accepts this but then they're like "No! Who broke it?" and head down to Zafra to get an explanation from Citron 'cause "dude what the heck?" They make it just in time to find out about a plot to keep him from ascending to the throne and that he's been kidnapped. Here Chikage steps up to the plate to find and save Citron from being kidnapped.(Itaru goes too but we're not here to talk about how he was prepped to die to save his wife<3, gosh I love love). (Kinda lengthy but I can't help making side notes & jokes lol)

So now that I've said a whole lot of nothimg, let's discuss the cleverness and how it could've been pushed.

Of course you've probably caught onto the cleverness yourself, a person who once abducted someone before a big event now is rescuing someone kidnapped before a big event. He is actively working in another person's best interest and to help sustain a family rather than aim to cause one to crumble out of his own desires of revenge. Of course, he vowed to protect the Mankai family at the end of Act 5, the parallel itself is still neat. And there's double the families he's sustaining in saving Citron here because not only is he saving a member Mankai/Spring Troupe's family but also of the Zafran royal family (why don't they have a last name >~<; that's so long winded), which allows a place for there to be a return after their punishment for suresies because if it had gone worse...

So now that that's been addressed how can this have been pushed further. Well. It could've been Chikage proving how much he's grown to care for and how much he means it when he says that he is devoted to protecting Mankai, which it kinda was in a bit of a less stated way. But also! While A3! is a clever series with compelling characters and storylines, there are some aspects that fall a little flat in the realism department at times, if they commited to being a bit more realistic w/ certain forgiveness storylines, this would've been a great moment for someone to feel more open to trusting Chikage. Like especially w/ him already being concerned about Mankai being upset with him for agreeing to & succeding to send off Citron. If it was like "man I'm still walking on eggshells a bit because even though people are nice to me and accept me they still don't fully trust/like me, I'm so not going to be increasing my score w/ any of them this way" and then him actively going to save and succeding in saving a cherished member of Mankai, with complete resolve and trying to keep everyone safe. That's something that could've really been something. Like not to say it wasn't anything or anything, just like it could have been a shift in the story. Like they love Chikage but do they trust him? They don't have much of choice. Obviously this can only be properly done with characters who would have animosity, coulda been there, and if it was something mentioned between the two points but yea.

(Reminder: my "lane" is the Zafran Princes so if I say anything inaccurate to any other character they're not my lane. (my current tag for them (tho I am considering changing it) is "Citron & his brothers" if you want to see anything I've said about them. (here's a good place to start, me thinks)(yea pretty shameless self promo but eh) I'm kinda dumb and know nothing tho so idk if any of it's at all good or something you'd agree w/ but I feel alright about the stuff I've said lol). I'm not a great writer or anything but I think if they had decided to take that route the best Spring Troupe options for that kinda dynamic woulda been Masumi or maybe Tsuzuru. (Had to choose Spring Troupe to go along with the setup that's already there, any other troupe and I might have to change big story details & that's not the goal here, the goal is elevating what's already there) Why these two? Well I'm less sold on Tsuzuru but I feel like he has more realistic and negative-leaning views sometimes, like he feels like a person who feels like he might stay cautious about a person who's done some shady things. Masumi other the hand is already a bit less of a people person, has he grown alot already yes, however, he is still someone who very much (haha kinda like Chikage) has a strong desire to protect those important to him and Chikage litterally abducted Izumi who was dire in Masumi being able to connect with more people and have those he wants to protect and do things for and she's at the top of that list of people. Sure she doesn't hold anything against Chikage but she's Izumi. She's a very caring and forgiving person. I could see someone like Masumi being a bit on gaurd and skeptical partly on her behalf.

I'm sure it'd be a little harder to pull off with what the situation was but I do think it's plausible & do-able. I mean, if I recall correctly, at this point most of Mankai are unaware why Chikage kidnapped Izumi in the first place(I think Hisoka, Izumi, and sorta the rest of Winter Troupe and Sakuya knew around the time it happened) so if one of them(not the ones I just specified) were somewhat weary of him it could make sense, I think reasoning is something that I can see being important to Masumi and Tsuzuru and that's something Chikage didn't divulge, so it feels like Chikage did it for "no reason". Though I do want to say I think if we took one if these routes reasoning would be important to them in different ways. Tsuzuru would be more mentally like but what was the reason tho, while Masumi would think less about that he didn't give his reasoning and compartmentalize it as no good reason as he had his chance to explain but didn't, which I wanted to bring up because because imagine with me if you please, Masumi accepting Chikage being around but lowkey not fully trusting him bcause he clearly had no good reason for abducting Izumi. Chikage plays vital role in rescuing Citron maybe he is okay to trust a bit more and maybe (flashfoward to Magician's Pure Love) Masumi can hear out what reason Chikage had for his actions, because maybe even if it was wrong and something he shouldn't have done, maybe he does have a reason. (See I'm tying things together)

My only hesitance really being the comparison of how important Izumi and Citron are to this character (because they're the ones in the situation not the weary character) but it simultaneously makes me want to hit floor it because they're equally important. Or something. Idk honestly. Just, i it was Masumi for this route I could see that being a nice reminder he cherishes his whole family. (I know Act 5 kinda already is that but I'm just throwing paint at the wall okay? This is only my lane adjacent.) I guess while I'm here let's discuss why not Izumi or Citron being the person for this to drive the relationship forward. Well. I think even if Izumi reasonably had a small fear of or discomfort with Chikage after Act 5 she would actively be workimg herself to getting over it. For it to be something to drive their relationship it would definitely have to be a thing between the two of them. Meanwhile, Citron literally trusted Chikage to keep his secret that he was leaving early and help him do so. I think they're in an okay place.

So yea, maybe this whole idea is dumb or too movie or something, Idk I have film major brain, but it's something I think about sometimes(not as much as I laid out here but the concept). Like obviously in part the rescue's probably partially there with something similar to that in mind but like instead it's to prove Chikage to the viewers rather than to Mankai, however I also think that it's okay in media to make characters have to work for people(read: other characters) to forgive and/or be comfortable around them. Like sure sure some people will forgive you pretty early on and water under the bridge and all that stuff. And some people won't mind being around you. But some people might be completely unaware as to how much they subconciously don't trust you. Some might be like okay we're cool but we're not cool. For some people all this depends on how well they feel they know/understand you and which actions they've seen to help determine your character to them, you know? And I like complicated/layered/complex dynamics and relationships, so I personally woulda found it neat to have something like that within the story. But who am I lol

[nehswritesstuffs]

questions for fic writers!! answer however many you'd like :)

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

10. How do you decide what to write?

15. What's your favorite AU that you've written?

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Double Date from Hell, what would it be?

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

thank you!! <3 have a lovely week!!

I'll answer all of them! :D!

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

So this one is kinda interesting, because it's very different if you include all my works (207 thus far (soon 208) and I'm not done transferring everything from my FFN days) compared to my One Piece offerings, which is what you, my specific friend, are most familiar with. Under all stories my list is:

Prompt fic (117)

Fluff (says 55, toggles to 57)

Alternate Universe (says 41, toggles to 60)

Not Beta Read (37; the real tag is no beta we die like Roger: laughing at the chaos we've caused)

Angst (25, toggles to 33)

...but if we filter to only One Piece stories, we've got (aside from the specialized No Beta tag and designating what originally posted to FFN):

Alternate Universe (18)

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence (10)

Crack (9)

Pre-Canon (6)

Alternate Canon (6, toggles to 11)

That's... a difference. The first list is pretty clear that I've done a lot of prompts with plenty of fluff, angst, and AUs. The second focuses in on those AUs. I do have a lot of non-searchable tags in the more recent offerings, which affects things. They're both pretty spot-on, though playing around with my filters brings surprising stuff in many of the categories.

10. How do you decide what to write?

I do not decide what I write. God decides what I write. Sometimes He leaves it to my brain. That's usually a disaster.

15. What's your favorite AU that you've written?

I love all my AUs what are you talking about...

If I had to pick one I think my favorite right now is a tie between little seagull, little seagull, where shall you go? and Adventures with the Denizens of 1000 Sunny Rd, just because they're both really fun for completely different reasons. One's just the Great Dilfening of Trafalgar Law in its varied forms and the other is Modern pseudo-Midwestern American AU w/Sunny as a sus af party house in rural suburbia that totally isn't based on my local metro area what are you talking about. Both torture Law though, and that's what counts. :D

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

A comment that stood out? Well, I think comments that stand out to me are usually the long ones, as well as the ones that end up in long-winded conversations and exchange of fandom squealing. While I've gotten some in recent years, I cannot express how it was very different back in the heyday of my years mainlining FFN. So, like, 2004-2010, I'll say. Those were really good days, and people loved commenting/reviewing! There were still lurkers, obviously, but there was way less commodification of fandom like we see now. It's definitely not a "fandom old yells at teens" thing because I know it's not necessarily fandom's fault for the shift and is instead the corporate end that has trained us (especially newer fans) to treat media and fandoms alike the same one would cheap paper towels, but that's not what fandom is, and oh would you look at that I strayed from the topic.

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Double Date from Hell, what would it be?

A missing scene from Double-Date From Hell? Well then, don't mind if I do...

“Ah, there’s your kid,” Bell-mère noted. She watched Law cross the street from the hospital to head into the restaurant a few cars ahead of them. At least he was in scrubs and a doctor’s coat, making it a little less likely he’d murder them. “Didn’t you teach the little shit not to jaywalk?” “Jaywalking is the least of our worries right now,” Cora replied, his eyes following his son as he disappeared into the restaurant. “What if they see right through us?” He worried his hands as he grew progressively more fidgety in the passenger seat. “They’ll be too off-guard to think that,” she replied. From her vantage point, she could see the kid walk to the back corner of the seating area and slide into a booth, face getting real close to someone with very orange hair—must’ve been Nami. “Come on—where’s your sense of humor? It was working great last night.” “Last night I wasn’t staring this down so concretely,” he frowned. “I don’t want my kid and his super-cute girlfriend to hate me now that they’ve both met me.” “If she hasn’t run for the hills yet, they’re fine.” Bell-mère winked and killed the engine. “C’mon, let’s get this party started, shall we?”