#this whole post is probably pointless

[orcelito]

I've been working on Finally finishing Naruto Shippuden (after being a Naruto fan for nearly 15 years), & I just finished episode 420. And I have some THOUGHTS about the "Naruto is the reincarnation of Ashura" thing. This started as just me rambling for my normal liveblog posting, but I had a LOT of thoughts about this actually, so I am presenting them to u all Now.

So. Naruto meeting the Sage of Six Paths! Cool!!! I'm finally learning about Naruto being the reincarnation of Ashura, which... honestly is not a choice that I like very much. Narratively speaking, I mean. The Point of Naruto's journey was that he was the underdog, the bottom of his class, the orphan that everyone hated and made fun of. Through hard work and perseverance, he managed to drag himself from being a complete social outcast to someone generally really loved and respected. That's compelling!!! It means a lot!!!

But then the show is like. "Oh...actually, he's the son of the fourth hokage. And Also, he's the reincarnation of the son of the literal creator of ninshuu aka the precursor of modern ninjutsu." I mind him being Minato's son less as a narrative choice (for reasons I will get into shortly), but making him Ashura's reincarnation?? I've got Several things that bug me about that.

So First, for him being Minato's son. It's not like that's ever Actually given him any sort of status (since most people don't know), & Minato was also kind of just a random guy?? Just incredibly skilled, enough so to become the 4th hokage. And then there's also Kushina, descended from a very successful and very Feared clan that ended up almost entirely killed bc of that fear. Naruto being an Uzumaki means great power, huge chakra reserves (not even including the extra chakra he gets from Kurama), & some innate skills (that Naruto mostly didn't inherit, but one can play pretend sometimes). BUT ALSO, they were almost entirely killed off. He's a survivor of his clan's genocide that happened well before he was even born, and he doesn't even REALIZE it yet. So even though being Minato's son means he's the son of a very influential person, it doesn't give him the same leverage as being a Senju or Uchiha would. And the clan he Does belong to bc of Kushina does not give him status either, bc they're almost all fuckin Dead. And we know that Minato is a Namikaze, but as for what that actually *means*.... it's basically nonexistent. There is no mention of a Namikaze clan. Minato was just a prodigy in his own right.

SO.... All that is to say that while appending Naruto's orphan story with a "well, Actually, his parents were very powerful and well respected" does discount it a little bit, it's still not Especially unique in terms of what other people in their world may experience (there are other descendants of current and/or former kage + Many other powerful clans running around) OR in the benefits that it gives him (essentially nothing, outside of his physical strength and the inheritance of Kurama himself)(which inheriting Kurama did grant him access to IMMENSE power, but it also was the source of So Much of his suffering growing up, so I think it balances out).

The "reincarnation of Ashura, son of the Sage of Six Paths" thing tho... that one really kinda does. At that point, Naruto is no longer just the orphaned son of two respected shinobi & the current jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi (something special, but not entirely original, given that there are Other jinchuuriki who are descendants of powerful shinobi). He is now something that NO ONE ELSE ALIVE can be. It is saying that He, above Everyone Else, is special in this way. Outside of Sasuke lol, but I'll touch on that in a moment.

It just feels kinda cheap. It's cool I guess, but at this point it feels like we've completely lost the Plucky Orphan who works hard to overcome his circumstances plot. It's saying that he was Always one of a kind, he was Always destined to become Someone Special (or that he was, in fact, special the whole time). It removes the importance of his hard work in the equation. It makes it so that this is no longer something he earned for himself, but rather something that was a Given, since he is, of course, Ashura's reincarnation.

Cheap. It's cheap. And I don't like it.

Then we get into Sasuke being the reincarnation of Indra. Which I haven't gotten to that yet in the show, but I know from seeing it around. I do enjoy the sun and moon aesthetic between Naruto and Sasuke (so SO much, in fact), but. Making Sasuke the reincarnation of the Other son of the Sage of Six Paths is... frustrating? In several ways. There is of course the fact that Naruto and Sasuke have such extremely gay vibes (and Always Have), so making them the reincarnations of brothers so late in the story feels like an insult to anyone who reads their relationship in that way. Which to be fair, we do see Naruto mention at a few points that he thinks of Sasuke like a brother, but it's only a few points + feels like a kind of narrative cop-out. Sasuke himself said he doesn't think of Naruto in that way (though that could also be his self-denial speaking & it could change. Haven't gotten that far yet.), & I think there are much better choices for Naruto's "brother" figure (primarily Iruka, but people like Killer Bee and any of the other konoha 12 would be fitting too). Personally, it feels like Naruto was trying to put a name to his very strong feelings for Sasuke, & since he doesn't realize being gay is an option (since Kishimoto is clearly homophobic & made this ninja society to reflect that), he settled on Brother. But Sasuke is like "what the fuck? No, my only brother is Itachi." Instead, Sasuke has called Naruto his best friend. Which also doesn't fully encompass their relationship, but it's still closer than Brother.

So here we are, Kishimoto saying around 555 episodes into the plot (only 80 more to go) that they're actually the reincarnations of brothers. And not just any brothers. THE sons of the Sage of Six Paths. Incredibly influential, incredibly powerful, two sides of the same coin and very historically significant figures. Sasuke always had the "descended from an elite, yet disgraced clan" thing going for him, so in my opinion it doesn't hold the same kind of insult to his story that it does for Naruto. But it still feels like an insult to THEIR story.

Naruto and Sasuke were just two orphan boys. Their moms were best friends, but they didn't know that. They died when they were too young. But Naruto and Sasuke still gravitated towards one another. Understood each other like no one else. And got on each other's nerves like no one else. But that irritation stemmed from their genuine admiration of each other. They wanted to be able to beat each other. They became Rivals. And it was on their own terms. No one else pushed them together. Outside of them ending up on the same team, their entire relationship was fueled by their recognition of one another, Jealousy of one another, and the simple enjoyment of being around one another. They were the ones to decide the importance of their relationship. Sasuke recognizing Naruto as his closest friend & thus thinking he was the one he had to cut off to achieve power, and Naruto recognizing Sasuke as his first peer that acknowledged him, a precious bond he finally made, and thus someone he had to cling to FIERCELY. That was all them.

But here we are. They're a reincarnated set. The sun and the moon, but Officially. One could say soulmates in a way, in a non-romantic kind of context (considering the first iteration was a pair of brothers). While this is cool from a story standpoint, it really takes some significance away from their relationship to me. It makes it less of something they chose for themselves and more of a given. Pretty much just like Naruto being Ashura's reincarnation cheapens his own story, it cheapens their relationship too.

I dont want a story about two boys who were destined to be important to each other!!!! I want a story about two orphans who just happened to become important to one another thru a series of coincidences and personal choices. In that way, their relationship gains greater gravity bc it's born from their own hearts Alone. It's Naruto moving mountains for the sake of this boy he loves, and it's Sasuke finally coming back around bc of the force of Naruto's dedication. It means so much more than the implication that they were always meant to be a pair. So I really don't like this narrative choice.

[dr11ft]

don't think I ever clarified this but I genuinely don't care if people use my art as headers, icons, etc, anything really. As long as you credit me somewhere accessible from the location it's being displayed it's literally fine. You don't have to ask me and honestly I think it should be normalized to display art on the internet without personally contacting the artist for approval. Obviously if you're profiting from whatever it is that's a different story

[biro-slay]

Am I obsessed with Minecraft YouTubers AGAIN??

[eddis-not-eeddis]

.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

When you might have popped your arm out of its socket a few months ago but you didn’t realize that a partial dislocation was a thing so, since you could move your arm and popped it right back into place, you just thought it was nothing, but now when you lift stuff a certain way or lay on that side in bed or move it a certain way while swimming it does that thing again and you’re like “would seeing a doctor about that make any difference if you probably already healed wrong? Can they even do anything at this point?”

[knifefightandchill]

It's always a bit concerning when different meta turns into something akin to discourse.

[maternalcube]

veilguard is going to kill my pet theory thats been living in my head for the past.... uh decade. thats okay bc its not like i expected it to be real and it barely counts as a theory anyway and i will play in that headspace if i want to regardless. but yknow. ah well.

[gaylightisminetocommand]

No, the fandom doesn’t all agree that Ben is lying about having a girlfriend. I’d be perfectly happy if Ben was bi/pan so I hope he has a girlfriend. Everyone says she’s made up because he stumbled over her location but if she is a long-distance Internet-based relationship, I understand that he’d forget where she is. Since they’re off on a ship to somewhere outside of the United States, I could see them connecting with her when they reach their final destination.

... it was a lighthearted joke. Like it's perfectly valid to have your own opinion, idc how you view his sexuality, but... maybe don't come into someone's askbox getting all defensive just because they made a post you didn't agree with?

[arolesbianism]

Dude actually getting to read other ppl talk abt oni lore stuff did so much to make up for my brain sucking at reading I didn't even consider that Michael E.E. Perlmutter could be Meep I thought it would be unfitting if he was just a rando but I did not put two and two together at all and look at the obviously spelt out capitalized letters dhdkhdkd

[biffhofosho]

HONEY SPAM

HONEY SPAM

HONEY SPAM

I've finally got my act together. Let's goooooooooooooooo.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Tell If That Post of Advice Is AI Bullshit

Right, I wasn't going to write more on this, but every time I block an obvious AI-driven blog, five more clutter up the tags. So this is my current (April 2024) advice on how to spot AI posts passing themselves off as useful writing advice.

No Personality - Look up a long-running writing blog, you'll notice most people try to make their posts engaging and coming from a personal perspective. We do this because we're writers and, well, we want to convey a sense of ourselves to our readers. A lot of AI posts are straight-forward - no sense of an actual person writing them, no variation in tone or text.

No Examples - No attempts to show how pieces of advice would work in a story, or cite a work where you could see it in action. An AI post might tell you to describe a person by highlighting two or three features, and that's great, but it's hard to figure out how that works without an example.

Short, Unhelpful Definitions - A lot of what I've seen amount to two or three-sentence listicles. 'When you want to write foreshadowing, include a hint of what you want foreshadowed in an earlier chapter.' Cool beans, could've figured that out myself.

SEO/AI Prompt Language Included - I've seen way too many posts start with "this post is about..." or "now we will discuss..." or "in this post we will..." in every single blog. This language is meant to catch a search engine or is ChatGPT reframing the prompt question. It's not a natural way of writing a post for the average tumblr user.

Oddly Clinical Language - Right, I'm calling out that post that tried to give advice on writing gay characters that called us "homosexuals" the entire time. That's a generative machine trying to stay within certain parameters, not an actual person who knows that's not a word you'd use unless you were trying to be insulting or dunking on your own gay ass in the funniest way possible.

Too Perfect - Most generative AI does not make mistakes (this is how many a student gets caught trying to use it to cheat). You can find ways to make it sound more natural and have it make mistakes, but that takes time and effort, and neither of those are really a factor in these posts. They also tend to have really polished graphics and use the same format every time.

Maximized Tags (That Are Pointless) - Anyone who uses more than 10 one-word tags is a cop. Okay, fine, I'm joking, but there's a minimal amount of tags that are actually useful when promoting a post. More tags are not going to get a post noticed by the algorithm, there is no algorithm. Not everyone has to use their tags to make snarky comments, but if your tags look like a spambot, I'm gonna assume you're a spambot.

No Reblogs From The Rest of Writblr - I'm always finding new Writblr folks who have been around for awhile, but every real person I've seen reblogs posts from other people. We've all got other stuff to do, I'm writing this blog to help others and so are they, the whole point of tumblr is to pass along something you think is great.

While you'll probably see some variation in the future - as people get wise to obviously generated text, they'll try to make it look less generated - but overall, there's still going to be tells to when something is fake.

I don't have any real advice for what to do about this (other than block those blogs, which is what I do). Like most AI bullshit, I suspect most of these blogs are just another grift, attempting to build large follower counts to leverage or sell something to in the future. They may progress past these tattletale features, but I'm still going to block them when I see them. I don't see any value in writing advice compiled from the work of better writers who put the effort in when I can just go find those writers myself.

[lizardsfromspace]

Talking about Chris Columbus made me think about what was probably the most prophetic part of JK Rowling's bad wizard books at the time

If you go back to coverage from the time (which I did verifying the info in the Chris Columbus post, discovering this) you see that she wanted a capital-d Director for it. A visionary auteur worthy of her wizard book for children. She wanted Terry Gilliam; the studio said no. She wanted Guillermo del Toro; he said no. She wanted Steven Spielberg; he said yes, then dropped out due to "creative differences" (he wanted to do it as an animated film, and chose to make A.I. instead). Then with the third movie, they landed one: Y tu mamá también director Alfonso Cuarón. At last, she would get to see what it was like for a visionary creative to tackle her work, as she wanted all along

And when it came out, there was one problem. The reviews were really, really good...and all of them were praising Alfonso Cuarón. They were saying that he had added so much to the wizarding world of JK Rowling (TM). Some were even implying he handled the material better than she did, and a few were saying that outright, because it was true

Suddenly, the prospect of her work being handled by a Visionary Aueteur was less appealing. Cuarón couldn't give less of a shit, he went off to make Children of Men, so strange how basically everyone involved in the bad wizard movies used the money from it as a springboard to kickstart a successful career doing shit they actually care about it except its writer. So two movies later, we meet David Yates, whose filmography looks like this

He does have works other than this - all of it on TV. Miniseries/TV movies and TV episodes. Though his only TV work since Harry Potter was one TV pilot.

Someone who had spent years talking about her hopes that Spielberg or Gilliam or del Toro or M. Night Shyamalan would add their Visionary Touch to her books was now happy having some random TV director handle everything forever. A random TV director who hardly does anything except Harry Potter. Whose career depends on her and her series. Anyway I'm sure she just really liked his miniseries about human trafficking a lot

It reminds me of when the director & writer of the first 50 Shades movie did a lot of editing to remove the unnecessary guff that was only in the book bc it was in the original fanfic - like pointless side characters who were only around bc they were a Twilight character in the original - & make it work better as a film, and then E.L. James fired everyone and had her husband write the sequels so they wouldn't ruin her baby. JK Rowling really wanted the prestige of her movie being made by a Steven Spielberg but didn't realize that a director like that would alter the material for film even when adapting a good book. She just wanted a famous person to enthusiastically co-sign that her book was very good and perfect and required not one change before becoming a classic of cinema. Meanwhile Alice Walker, Michael Crichton, Philip K. Dick and H.G. Wells are all better writers than JK Rowling, and none of them were granted that level of deference

Anyway who could have foreseen that the writer who made sure her film series was made as bland as possible after having one director actually dare to change and adapt her work would one day get so mad at her movie's cast no longer speaking with her she tries to remake the whole series to "replace" them

[thehatboxwitch]

If you perchance do nsfw alphabets I'd like to request one for aventurine! If not just headcanons will do. It's ok if u refuse the request! Thank youu I like your work ❤️

thank you for being so sweet and enjoying my work! ❤️ aventurine nsfw alphabet. gender neutral, TW // nsfw. original template by the-coldest-goodbye.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) If you’re next to him, regardless of whether or not he's just done something with you, Aventurine is liable to fall asleep. He feels safe all cosy and cuddled up with you, work gets hard, and the feeling of your warmth next to him is usually enough to lull him to sleep. (If you move away from him at any point in the night, he wakes up with nightmares.)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Aventurine's own drive isn't that high, honestly. He seeks emotional intimacy and safety in a partner - sex is simply a tool for him. But if you so wished, he's always more than happy to indulge you with his hands or mouth. He's gone more than once where he spent the whole session pampering you with not a care for himself.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) My previous Aventurine anatomy post!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Aventurine thinks of you in meetings. He finds it’s a lot more entertaining when he imagines you bouncing on his lap, crying out in pleasure in front of all of these high-ranking IPC officials. More than once he’s been caught smiling at nothing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) If it's your thing, one of Aventurine's most attractive parts are how vocal he is. He's not shy about the way his voice trembles when he slides into you, or the little whines and gasps he makes when you tug on his hair. He'll tell you how good you feel, how good you are, not even trying to hide how strained he sounds.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Aventurine likes to tease, but never too much. He's good at knowing how to turn you on through light teasing touches and words, and by the time he's done you're already soaking wet and desperate for him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Aventurine likely has one toy that can do basically anything. He uses it occasionally, but usually prefers to get up close and personal himself (because what else would the point of sex be, honestly?) He doesn't quite enjoy the feeling of using it on himself because it feels too close for comfort to what he experienced in his past, but he'll use it on you if it makes you feel good <3

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He generally prefers to do one or two, more if he wants, but he's usually worn out from the work day by that point. Besides, anything more is pointless if you're too tired to indulge in the afterglow with him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) As far as experimenting goes, Aventurine's probably pretty vanilla. He doesn't like things like tying up/being tied up, temperature, knife play etc. It all seems too intense to his liking. Isn't the normal stuff good enough?

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He prefers not to, unless you want it. Aventurine likes to savour his time with you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) It varies, again, as you prefer. If it was up to him he'd take it slow always and then slowly build up until you both cum together, but really that's boring after a while. He likes being fast and rough but mostly with his hands.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Absolutely a service partner, whether top or bottom in the relationship. He loves the taste of you gushing out around his tongue, your thighs squeezing around his head, your voice crying out as your hands try valiantly to grip at anything. He'll gladly receive, but if he'll be honest, it feels strange if he's the only one being pleasured.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Restraint is pretty uncomfortable to Aventurine, and anything that seems like it's bordering on torture, which includes intense overstimulation. Pain is very far from pleasure to him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Kissing and cuddling can easily turn into lovemaking for him, but also things like wearing something that shows too much skin in public. If you shower him in love, he'll give it back - that's just how he is.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) The bedroom, for sure. It's comfortable and warm and cosy and it's easy for you to rest once you're done. Aventurine isn't really a fan of the public stuff.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He likes smell. Even if you've just exercised and haven't showered, if he's in the mood, Aventurine can and will take you as you are. He swears up and down that you've never smelled bad to him ever.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Aventurine likes doing it - it's difficult to be with you all the time due to his job, and he misses you dearly every second of it. It's nice to still be able to offer each other pleasure, for example, while over the phone.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He can be quite the romantic if you let him. Aventurine would even pull out the roses and candles if the occasion called for it, put on the music, the whole works. He’ll whisper words of affection like you’ll never hear him say otherwise.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Aventurine trims himself regularly, so he does have a short crop of hair down there and the faintest happy trail. It’s honey blonde, just like the hair on his head.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Aventurine isn't really humorous, but like I mentioned before, he likes to tease. He keeps things fun and light-hearted and makes sure things never get boring.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) He likes taking you from behind, or a sort of side cuddle where he can still reach you and keep you close.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He’s not incredibly experienced, but he has used his hands once or twice and knows where everything is, if you catch my drift. It helps that he plays cards. Dexterity is a valuable skill.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) When you were away, Aventurine once jerked off, stained your laundry, and washed it and returned without a word. He’s been doing that occasioanlly ever since after his day pissed him off but you aren’t around to comfort him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) His is a bit on the thicker side, even if it hasn’t been long since your previous time together.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Aventurine loves it when you hold his waist, but he’s more fond of your hips. He holds your love handles while fucking and loves the feeling of being cuddled around the waist.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Cuddly, but pretty boneless. Give him a moment and he’ll clean you up, but first he needs to catch his breath.

a hatbox summer event

if you enjoy my work, rbs help the most! ⭐️

[silent-stories]

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

Pairing: underground fighter! noah x reader

Series summary: You’re dragged to watch an illegal fight, and after the match, you meet Noah, a fighter who seems to be battling more than just his opponents.

Tw: mentions of deceased family members, drinking.

Series masterlist

The walls of the tattoo shop were full of framed flash art and faded photos of past clients, the front counter had stickers scattered across its glass surface.

Amber was sitting in the chair across from you, legs tucked under her, scrolling on her phone as you answered the phone: a woman booking a consultation.

Nick, as usual, was posted up near the back, focused. His gloves were ink-smeared, head down as he worked on the sleeve of some guy sitting stiffly in the chair.

You wrapped up the call, set the appointment, jotted a few notes, then hung up.

“So?” Amber prompted, “You were saying?”

You gave a small, tired huff of breath and leaned back in your chair, rubbing at your temple.

“I gave him the bracelet. He gave me back my shirt...clean, actually. And for a second it was almost… good. Like, normal-good. He even smiled. He was joking around.”

Amber blinked, skeptical already.

“But then I asked him why he still fights,” you continued. “He just...flipped. Said we weren’t friends. Basically yelled at me, so I left.”

You looked over at her. She didn’t look surprised. Not really, but still a bit disappointed.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, “sounds about right.”

You tilted your head. “What does that mean?”

“It means you should probably let it go, I'm sorry.”

"Yeah, I should." You said tapping your fingertips on your sketchbook.

The tattoo machine's sound faded as Nick powered it down. He carefully wrapped a layer of plastic around the fresh tattoo on his client’s arm and then peeled off his gloves.

The guy nodded his thanks, grabbed his coat and headed out the door, the bell above it jingling behind him.

“Really, stop thinking about him,” Amber said. “He's not worth it.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. The whole thing is pointless. We gave each other our stuff back, and that's it.”

Amber didn’t add anything else.

A few seconds later, Nick approached you, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright,” he said, raising a brow at the two of you. “What are you girls whispering about over here?”

You shrugged, giving him a faint smile. “Nothing important. Really.”

He tilted his head, unconvinced but not pushing. “Mmm. Okay. So. The butterfly, right?”

Amber smiled. “Exactly.”

Nick reached over the counter to grab his book of tattoo designs, but his forearm accidentally knocked your sketchbook off the table. It landed on the floor with a soft thud, pages flipping open.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, crouching automatically to pick it up. But then he paused, looking down at the open page. “Wait, these are yours?”

You leaned forward, a little flustered. “Yeah.”

“Damn. You’re good.”

You gave a modest shrug. “Thanks.”

Nick handed the book back to you, grinning as he did. “No, really. Now I'm scared you're gonna steal my job.”

You chuckled.

Nick turned his attention to Amber, flipping open his design book and gesturing to different butterfly styles.

“Okay, so...” Nick pointed to a geometric one in the book. “This one’s kind of sharp and very symmetrical. Good for forearm or ankle. Clean lines.”

“Too sterile,” Amber said, wrinkling her nose. “I want it to feel…alive.”

“Alive?” Nick chuckled. “Should it breathe too?”

As they began discussing placement and color, you sat back, flipping slowly through your own sketchbook.

If it had fallen open to the wrong drawing, Nick would have asked who the hell the guy on that page was. And Amber would have probably guessed it right.

Noah's face was drawn from memory, defined jawline, but not too sharp, dark hair falling just past his eyes. His expression was serious, but in his eyes there was something softer.

You’d shaded a darker halo around one of his eyes: one of the bruises that hadn’t yet faded. There was a small cut along his bottom lip, another along his cheekbone, and a bigger one on his nose, like the last time you saw him.

And then, almost invisible unless you knew to look for them: freckles. Just a light dusting across his nose and cheeks. You hadn’t even seen them until the morning in the abandoned building he called home, when the sun slipped through the broken windows and kissed his face in just the right way.

You flipped the page before anyone could glance over. Then again. And again. Until the drawing was buried deep in the middle of the book.

Amber laughed at something Nick said, and you looked up, forcing your attention back to the moment, tapping your pencil absently on the edge of the sketchbook and telling yourself not to think about him again.

The apartment door creaked open and slammed shut again in one fluid motion, the sound echoing through the quiet living room.

You glanced up from the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, your sketchbook balanced on your knees. The pencil you’d been idly chewing on stilled as Kole strode into the room, hoodie half-zipped, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside.

“Hey,” he said, already halfway to the kitchen. “Just grabbing something to eat real quick, then I’m out.”

You blinked. “Out? Where...”

And then it clicked.

You sat up straighter. “Again? Seriously?”

Kole opened the fridge and pulled out a plastic container, something leftover from the night before. He didn’t even bother microwaving it. Just popped the lid, grabbed a fork, and started eating cold pasta straight from the container.

“Dean told me,” he said between bites, “there’s this guy fighting tonight, maybe Leo? I don't remeber his name. Says he’s got about seventy-five percent odds to win. Can’t pass that up.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “Kole, this shit is not football. It's illegal.”

He snorted. “Come on, don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not. I just…” You trailed off, setting your sketchbook aside. “You’ve been going quite a lot lately.”

“It’s not like I’m fighting,” he said quickly. “I’m just watching. Betting a little. That’s it.”

“That’s still your whole night.”

He paused, chewing slower, eyes flicking toward you. “I’ll be back before midnight.”

“That’s not the point.”

There was a beat of silence.

Kole sighed and set the container down, fork still inside and walked towards you.

“I know you don’t like it,” he said. “But it’s not forever. It’s just... a thing for now.”

You exhaled, crossing your arms. “A ‘thing’ that ends with somebody in the ER.”

He gave a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Okay?”

You hesitated.

Then, finally, with a tired kind of resignation, you muttered, “Okay.”

“Okay-okay?” he asked, stepping closer. “Like... tranquility okay?”

You let out a reluctant huff of laughter. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Kole leaned down and gave you a light kiss, quick and familiar.

When he pulled back, his face was close, eyes scanning yours for a second like he wanted to say more. But he didn’t.

He just smirked. “I’ll text you if Leo gets knocked out in the first round, alright?”

You rolled your eyes. “Great. Can’t wait.”

He grabbed his keys from the dish near the door, then paused before stepping out.

“See you later, if you'll be still up.”

You didn’t answer. The door shut behind him with a dull click.

A moment passed. Then another.

Outside, the sound of his car engine hummed to life, then faded into the distance.

You sank back onto the couch, staring at the spot where he’d just been. The kiss still lingered faintly on your lips, but it didn’t bring much comfort.

You stayed on the couch for a while, wrapped in your blanket, the TV humming faintly in the background as some random movie played on Netflix. You weren’t really watching it. Every so often, you glanced at your phone, but there were no messages. Just the usual notifications: missed memes from Amber, TikTok updates, a promo email from a store you kept forgetting to unsubscribe from.

Eventually, you gave up on pretending to be invested in the movie and let your thumb wander over your phone screen, watching some tiktoks.

At some point, your eyelids started to droop. You barely noticed when your phone slipped from your hand and landed beside you on the couch. The last thing you remembered was a girl on your screen arguing with her cat.

And then—

bzzz... bzzz...

Your phone lit up, screen vibrating on the cushion.

You blinked awake, confused for a second, your neck stiff from the way you’d slouched into the side of the couch.You reached for your phone and squinted at the caller: Kole.

You answered on the second ring, voice scratchy. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice sounded… off.

You sat up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

There was a pause.

“I, uh… I’ve got a flat. Like, completely flat. Back right tire’s toast.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I came out for a smoke and it was just… gone. Totally flat. I didn’t even notice at first, until Dean started laughing and pointed it out.”

You frowned. “Did you run over something?”

Another pause. Then: “I don’t think so.”

You stayed silent, waiting.

Kole sighed. “Look, I can’t say for sure, but I think it was the guy who owed me money. From the bet. He didn’t take it well.”

“Are you serious?”

“I didn’t see him do it,” he added quickly. “But he was pissed and acting twitchy. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

You let your head fall back against the couch. “Jesus, Kole.”

“I know. I know. But now I need you to come get me.”

You exhaled slowly, already swinging your legs off the couch. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Late,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t ask if I had any other way back. I swear.”

“I’ll be there in like fifty minutes.”

“You’re the best,” he said, "I'll be inside drinking something with Dean and the others."

"Alright." You hung up and went to grab your keys.

When you arrived, you made sure to park not too close. You didn’t want your car anywhere near the place, not after what had happened to Kole’s.

When you stepped out, the air was cool but it had stopped raining.

Somewhere nearby, water dripped from a pipe in slow, rhythmic taps. As you walked, your sneakers scuffed lightly against the asphalt, each step echoing just enough to make you feel too exposed.

Outside the warehouse, three men lingered. Two were huddled in a corner, cigarettes glowing between their fingers as they murmured to each other in low tones. The third paced slowly while talking into his phone.

You approached the steel door and knocked twice, and the sound echoed, sharp.

You waited.

After a moment, the door cracked open. The same guy from the last time stood there, thick arms crossed. He gave you a once-over, clearly recognizing you. Then he stepped aside.

Inside, no one was fighting, not anymore. The ring sat empty in the center of the room, and around it, clusters of people lounged or leaned against the walls, drinking, laughing and chatting.

You scanned the room. And then you saw him.

Kole was sitting on a worn-out leather couch near the far end with Dean and two other guys you didn’t know. A bottle of something half-empty in his hand, head tipped back in laughter. He didn’t see you. Didn’t even glance toward the entrance.

No urgency in his posture. No guilt. No "I called my girlfriend out of bed at almost 2 a.m. and I'm sorry" energy.

You stayed where you were, trying to decide if you should storm over or just turn around and leave him there for the night.

Then something pulled your attention.

On the far wall, half-obscured behind an old speaker and a stack of folding chairs, was a makeshift gallery, dozens of photos taped up messily, some curling at the edges. All of them from the fights.

Close-ups of broken noses, fists frozen mid-swing, blood spraying in arcs. Some people screaming. Some smiling through bloody teeth.

You stepped closer. And then your eyes landed on one in particular.

Noah.

Frozen in motion. Shirtless, chest covered in tattoos, hands still wrapped, mouth parted like he’d just let out a loud scream for the crowd. He looked flushed, victorious, a cut above his eyebrow barely scabbed.

He almost looked like he belonged here.

Suddenly, a voice behind you made you flinch.

“Ugly, right?”

You turned.

Noah stood a few feet away. Black hoodie. Hood up. Hands deep in the front pocket. His posture relaxed. You hadn’t heard him come up.

He gave a small, crooked smile. “If you want, I can sign it for you."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No thanks,” you said coolly, nodding once toward the photo. “I don’t need souvenirs.”

Noah’s smirk faded.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

You blinked. “Talk? Thought you didn't want to see me ever again.”

“Just… a minute. Please.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your voice low. “I didn’t come here for you.”

“I know.”

“I came to pick up Kole.”

And yeah, you were still kind of mad at Noah.

Noah’s eyes flicked over your shoulder toward the couch where Kole still sat, now leaning forward, animatedly telling a story to the guy on his right. His bottle swung loosely in his hand. Dean laughed too loudly at something, nearly knocking over a cup balanced on the floor.

Noah raised a brow. “Doesn’t look like he’s in any rush.”

You followed his gaze. And yeah, he wasn’t. Not even close.

Your jaw tightened. You looked back at Noah.

“…Okay,” you said, reluctantly.

He didn’t say anything, just turned toward the exit. As he walked, he paused at the door and pushed it open, then looked over his shoulder, waiting.

You realized he was holding it for you.

You slipped past him in silence, the night air greeting you again with its damp chill. The laughter and noise of the warehouse faded as the door closed behind you with a heavy thunk.

Noah walked a few steps ahead, then turned down the side of the building and toward a short stretch of pavement lined with a single skinny tree. Beneath it, half-hidden in the dark, sat an old wooden bench. It looked warped from weather, one leg slightly uneven, but still standing. Still enough for two.

He gestured to it wordlessly.

You followed. The sound of your footsteps on wet concrete filled the space between you.

And then you sat next to him. For a few moments, neither of you spoke.

“You’re wasting your minute, fighter boy.”

Noah huffed a quiet breath, almost a laugh, then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. For the other day. I shouldn’t’ve snapped like that.”

You didn’t answer, just kept your eyes forward, watching the way the leaves on the tree above you trembled faintly.

“It’s just…” he went on, “I don’t like certain questions. That’s all. But that’s on me."

You glanced at him, just briefly. His jaw was set, but not in that defensive, shut-everyone-out way he’d had before. It looked more like he was holding something in, like it actually cost him to say that out loud.

You shifted slightly on the bench, crossing one leg over the other.

“It’s your business,” you said, not unkindly. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. Since the first time you saw me, you’ve been… I don’t know. Just, so fucking kind. No one's kind to me around here, not unless they want something.”

He gave a crooked, almost embarrassed smile.

You cleared your throat. “Well, apology accepted,” you said finally. “But mostly because I hope I get to see Alpine again.”

That earned a short laugh from him. “Figured that might be the only way back into your good graces.”

You looked over at him fully now. The hood still shadowed most of his face, but the edge of his mouth was curled up. The tightness around his eyes was less than before, like he was relieved that you were joking again.

“I still think,” he added, “you should stay away. From me. From this place but your boyfriend seems to love it, so I'm not sure I can do something about it now.”

"Yeah. I hate him sometimes." You realized how this sounded just after you said it.

“You ever tell him that?”

You sighed through your nose. “He knows I don't like this. All he does is laugh, make a joke and kiss me like it could fix everything.”

Noah tilted his head, studying you. “So why are you here tonight?”

“Because I still care. And because a flat tire in this part of town at 2 a.m. is a pretty shit situation, even for someone acting like an idiot.”

“Fair.”

After a quiet moment, filled just by the wind rustling through the leaves and the distant voices from inside the warehouse, Noah shifted slightly beside you.

“You work?” he asked suddenly.

You blinked, turned your head halfway toward him. “What?”

He repeated, slower this time, almost like he wasn’t sure it was a weird question. “I asked if you work.”

You gave him a flat look. “Oh, look at that. Mr. ‘You should stay away’ playing Twenty Questions now?”

He laughed, and god, you loved that sound.

It burst out of him unguarded, loose and warm, with that almost high-pitched edge that didn’t suit his face or his body or anything about the way he usually carried himself. But it was real. The kind of laugh you only got out of someone when you caught them off guard in the best way. When they forgot to keep their walls up.

He ducked his head a little like he was embarrassed by it, which only made you smile.

“I’m just curious,” he said, still grinning. “I don’t actually know anything about you.”

“Exactly,” you said, “And I don't about you. That’s the point. You don't tell me shit, why should I?”

He looked at you for a moment.

"If you answer my questions, I'll tell you something about me too."

"This could work."

"Good." He chuckled.

“I work in a tattoo shop,” you said eventually. “Receptionist, mostly. Scheduling, phones, paperwork. I wipe down the floor too.”

He nodded, watching you. “Cool.”

He leaned back a little, shoulder grazing yours for just a second. “You got any pets?”

You let out a breath, half amused, half thoughtful. “No. I wish. But it’s hard, you know? Taking care of something… breathing, alive… in your house.”

He didn’t say anything right away, but you felt him look at you.

Then: “I think you’d do a good job.”

That surprised you. Your eyes slid over to him. “Why?”

He shrugged, barely lifting one shoulder. “Just would. I can tell.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Come on. You’ve seen me, what? Three times? Don’t start getting poetic on me.”

He turned toward you more fully, eyebrows up. “I’m not being poetic. It’s just true.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it, you have that.... something in you. Something good.”

You blinked at that. Your mouth opened slightly, like you might say something, but nothing came out at first.

Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I know that came out weird.”

“No, it’s just…” you trailed off, then offered a small smile. “Unexpected.”

He smiled back, just a little.

You gave him a slow nod. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something.”

You expected him to dodge. To crack a joke or say something vague and slippery, keep playing the part of the guy who never lets anyone in. You didn’t expect what actually came next.

Noah looked down at his hands for a moment, thumbs rubbing together, his hoodie sleeves pushed up just enough to show the scabbed-over edge of a healing scrape.

Then he said, almost too quiet to catch, “I grew up without my dad, I never knew him.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t interrupt.

“My mom died when I was twelve.” He said. “I lived with my grandparents after that. They took me in. They were... good.”

He paused. The silence stretched.

“They’re gone now too.”

You swallowed, your heart heavy all of a sudden. “Noah…”

He shook his head once, not sharply, but like he was brushing something off his own shoulders. “It was a while ago. I was maybe seventeen when my granddad passed. Nana lasted a little longer. After her, I just… started doing this. The fighting. And I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so…”

He trailed off. You didn’t press. You didn’t need to.

There was a long, quiet moment.

Your voice was soft when you finally spoke. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just nodded once, like that was enough.

You reached over, without really thinking, and let your fingers brush his sleeve lightly. A small touch. Not much. But he didn’t pull away. Didn’t even flinch.

You didn't hold his hand, even if you wanted. Didn't even touch it. But that was the closest thing to it you could do right now.

You knew it wasn’t the whole story.

You didn’t know why he kept fighting. Or why he had started in the first place, and why he didn't even consider other job offers.

You didn’t know why he refused help, why if you offered him a way out, he shut the door harder.

But this was a beginning, because he’d opened up, even if just a little.

“No reason you would,” he said quietly. “I don’t talk about it. Not with people here. Not with anyone, really.”

“Why tell me?”

He looked over at you.

"I told you there was something in you, didn't I?"

And just like that, as if you’d both quietly forgotten you were sitting just a few steps from an illegal fight club, where your boyfriend was probably still downing cheap alcohol with his idiot friends, you and Noah ended up talking for almost an hour, in the middle of the night.

The conversation had shifted less heavy aspects of your lives.

You told him about that one guy who came into the shop to get a hyper-realistic portrait of his girlfriend’s face tattooed on his ass cheek.

“Dead serious. Full shading. Dimples and all,” you said, grinning as you mimed the size of it with your hands. “And the worst part? She broke up with him three days later.”

Noah had laughed, really laughed. “That’s tragic. But also, if you’re getting someone’s face permanently inked on your ass, you gotta be prepared for heartbreak.”

Then there was the time you and your best friend got completely lost in Italy, accidentally boarded the wrong train, and ended up two towns over, arguing with a bakery owner who didn’t speak English but kept handing you pastries.

Noah listened, smiling in that quiet way he had, like he wasn’t just hearing the story, but tucking it away somewhere, saving it.

At some point, he’d pulled the hood down from his head and now his hair was falling forward, a little messy, loose in the front.

A few strands framed his face, brushing past his eyes the same way they did in the drawing on your sketchbook.

It softened him somehow. He looked less like the guy who took punches for a living and more like someone who used to be a boy, who maybe still carried the ache of being one.

He told you about his grandma, how when he was a kid, she used to make him peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, just for him.

“She thought they were disgusting,” he said, the fondness in his voice so clear it caught you off guard, “but she made them anyway. Every single time I asked.”

You made a face. “That sounds awful.”

“No,” he said, pretending to be offended. “It’s one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. I swear. The sweet from the peanut butter, the salty and sour from the pickles... it’s... genius.”

“It still sounds kinda gross.”

“I promise it's good,” he countered, a hand over his heart.

You were both smiling now. The kind of easy, involuntary smile that just happens when you’re having a friendly conversation with someone you enjoy spending time with.

He let out a breath, leaning back against the bench with a quiet sound. “I haven’t had one of those in years. Kind of miss it, actually.”

There was something gentle about the way he said it. It was not just about the sandwich, but everything it stood for, like moments spent with someone who loved you and wasn't there anymore, moments of safety, of being looked after.

And you found yourself wanting, absurdly, to find him a jar of peanut butter and the weirdest pickles you could, just to give him that again. Even for five minutes. Even if it was dumb.

You didn’t say that. You just looked at him, watching the way the glow from the streetlight hit the edge of his profile, softening every part of him.

From this angle, side by side, you could see the curve of his nose clearly. Sharp but soft at the same time, the kind of nose that made you want to draw his face over and over again, trace it with your eyes just to memorize the shape. It suited his face in a way that felt unfair. You wondered if it had ever been broken, and if so, how it had healed back still looking like that.

“You’ve got weird taste,” you murmured eventually.

He grinned. “You’ve got no idea.”

You didn’t realize how much time had passed until a sudden breeze cut through the quiet and you reached for your phone out of habit. The screen lit up with the time.

3:12 a.m.

“I should… probably go check on Kole,” you said softly, eyes still on the phone. “It’s past three.”

Noah glanced over, the faint lines of a frown tugging at his brows. “Right,” he said after a second, pushing to his feet. “I’ll come with you.”

Inside, the space had thinned out since you'd left. Most of the crowd was gone, the ring dark and still in the center of the room. A few folding chairs were tipped over. Someone’s hoodie lay abandoned on the floor. Dean was across the room, stacking empty crates with the kind of slow, distracted movement that suggested he'd been drinking too.

Kole was slumped over at a folding table near the corner, head tipped back against the wall, mouth slack. His arms dangled limply at his sides. A scattering of empty bottles formed a loose semicircle around his chair. One had rolled to the floor and lay spinning slightly from the draft you’d let in.

You sighed, already exhausted.

“Kole,” you said, shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey.”

He stirred, barely. Mumbled something incoherent into the collar of his hoodie and turned his face to the side like you were the world’s most annoying alarm clock.

“Kole, come on,” you tried again, voice firmer this time. “We need to go. It’s late.”

He groaned, made a weak attempt at lifting his head, then gave up and slumped back down.

You straightened up slowly as you looked at him, not really knowing what to do.

Behind you, Noah shifted.

You turned and met his eyes.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at Kole, then at you. Then he let out a long breath through his nose. The kind of sigh that said he couldn't care less about your drunk boyfriend, but he still was going to help. For you.

“Take one of his arms,” he said simply, already stepping forward.

You bent down, looping one of Kole’s arms around your shoulder. Noah took the other. Between the two of you, you hauled him upright. His head lolled forward, chin to chest, as dead weight as a sack of wet sand.

Noah adjusted his grip. “I got him,” he murmured, as Kole started saying something like ‘babe… m’fine…’ into the crook of your neck.

You didn’t answer.

And like that, the two of you carried him out into the dark.

Noah’s arms ached faintly from holding Kole up, but he ignored it. The guy was deadweight, reeking of sweat, booze, and some awful cologne.

Still, Noah kept a steady grip, matching your pace as you both half-dragged, half-carried him toward the door.

It had been the first time in years that Noah had opened up to someone. Even just a little. He hadn’t meant to. But with you...he hadn’t felt the usual tightness in his throat when he spoke. You felt safe.

Every time you two talked, just a little longer than the time before, he felt lighter. Like something was slowly being unhooked from inside his chest and set down, piece by piece. He didn’t feel fixed, but he felt better. And that was rare.

He kept thinking about your hand.

About how, for a second out there in the dark, you’d almost taken his. You hadn’t. Your hand had just hovered there for a moment before you brushed his sleeve instead, just the edge of his hoodie, like you’d caught yourself at the last moment. Like you’d remembered who you were supposed to belong to.

But Noah had felt it. That almost.

And now, as he walked beside you in silence, Kole’s weight dragging against him, all he could think about was how it might feel to actually hold your hand.

To feel your fingers, smaller and softer than his, sliding between his. Feel the contrast, your clean skin against his, covered in bruises and tattoos.

Would your hand flinch? Or would it fit?

He tightened his jaw and swallowed the thought.

Because now he was here, helping carry your drunk boyfriend out of a half-empty warehouse at three in the damn morning.

No, he didn’t care about Kole. Not even a little.

He remembered that night in the alley. Kole had looked down at him, grinning like a dumbass, and said thanks for getting his ass kicked so he could win a couple hundred bucks.

The guy didn’t deserve you.

Not your kindness. Not your laugh. Not your touch.

But Kole was still your boyfriend.

And Noah was doing this for you.

Because every goddamn day that passed, it got harder to pretend he didn’t care.

About you.

About the way your eyes lingered on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. About how you smiled when he tried to say something funny. About the way you’d sat with him tonight, listened to him, chatted like two people who met under better circumstances and were slowly growing closer.

He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, repeating himself that you still belonged to someone else, and that just because you didn't deserve someone like Kole didn't mean you deserved someone like him.

Noah leaned back as you finally got Kole settled in the passenger seat, the door clicking shut behind his dead weight. The guy slumped immediately against the window, cheek smashed to the glass, mouth slightly open.

You turned back to Noah, exhaling. “Jesus,” you muttered, rubbing your hands over your face.

“I give him... maybe a 3 for effort.” He said.

You snorted, the sound pulling a tiny smile from him. “Generous.”

You glanced at Kole, who made some unintelligible noise and shifted in his seat.

Noah made a face. “I hope he doesn't throw up inside.”

"Trust me, I'm hoping harder than you."

He chuckled and watched you settle into the seat, but you didn’t start the engine right away.

“Night, Noah.”

Noah gave a small nod, stepping back from the car. “Goodnight,” he said. “Drive safe, alright?”

You nodded, then reached out and gently pulled the door shut with a dull thunk.

He stood there, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, as your headlights swept across the cracked asphalt.

Noah stayed there until you drove away and he couldn't see your car anymore.

He exhaled, and finally, with one last glance down the empty road, Noah turned and made his way back toward his building.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog @pandora-08 @geminigirlfromfinland @bloody-spades @rumoured-whispers @astronoids

Fresh bruises tags: @1toreyouapart @respectfulrebel @dragoncopper @overmydeadbodysblog @fear-its-beauty @xslavicprincess @concreteangel92 @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @pipidoll @bluehairpunklol @tktstomydwnfall @jesuisunchaton @brutallysoftmuse @acatatonicpeace

[eustasskidagenda]

Okay, this post is not based on a request. I kept thinking about it for hours and finally decided to write it down: how the OP characters would text their s/o. So here are some texting headcanons for some of my favorite characters: Eustass Kid, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Sabo. I'll probably write a part 2 with my other beloved characters: Luffy, Marco, Killer, and Robin. :D

☆Texting HCs for Kid, Law, Sanji, Zoro & Sabo

CW : g/n reader, MDNI, Kid is cursing, fluff, funny, partly nsfw, mention of alcohol for Zoro 

WC : 2k

Kid

Your name/photo in his contacts: mine. With a photo of your ass, obviously. And when he's mad at you, he renames you mid(ge).

Such a brat.

His wallpaper: a cool photo of his motorbike (I'm sorry but Kid is that kind of man in love with his own bike/car. But it's okay, he's still my favorite.) Or, a pic of your ass.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery: your ass, random photos of your face when he’s teasing you, his bike, and some punk stuff (music, makeup, outfit etc.)

His fav emoji : none.

He likes to send really, really shorts messages. Like : 

"Hi" "u know" "i have an idea" "So listen:"

Goddam Kid, just write the WHOLE sentence in one message.

He's sending you random pictures of his torso, just to flex with his big tiddies.

And you have to respond with a heart emoji and praise him each time.

If you want, he's more than willing to send dick pick too. 

Again, you have to praise him. Even if the pictures are absolutely non-aesthetic. He's blessing you with his cock after all. 

"Babe, you don't know how to take beautiful pics of your dick." "WTF SHUT UP???????? It's MY dick???!!! OF COURSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL??!!!" 

Yeah, Kid is clearly using extra punctuation. 

Oh, sure, each morning, you receive a mirror selfie of his outfit of the day. Such a punk fashion icon. "Rate my outfit on a scale of amazing to amazing" 

He doesn't use emojis because they sound too soft and stupid. "em0teS aRe f0r s0fT b0ys Y/N"

If you complain about his messages looking cold, he might use random emotes to annoy you like "UgH iF U wAnt 🦬" (with that stupid dumb sponge bob meme)

Whenever he calls you, it seems like he's yelling through the phone. 

He likes using caps lock like "HEY Y/N, WANNA FUCK TONIGHT??????" 

He's sending you random punk/rock music. And you have to listen and react to every single music, otherwise he's so pissed off. He is sharing his world with you, the less you can do is interact with him. 

He also loves sending some pics of what he's working on, because Kid likes to repare/custom some cars or motorbike. 

And last thing, I like the idea of Kid Pirates being a punk music band, so sure, Kid loves to send you some videos of him playing guitar. "My fingers are skilled in three things : music, crafting and fingering you all the fucking day long"

His phone is so damaged because he throws it every time he gets angry (like every two minutes).

Law

Your name/photo in his contacts: y/n-ya. With a cursed picture of you. Just to tease you with it. 

His wallpaper: nothing, just the random by default home screen. In his view, wallpapers are useless and pointless.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery: random pictures you took of him, emo memes, and boring stuff about medicine or basic hygiene rules for Luffy. And a guide to "how to stop screaming and how to control your anger: a guide for children" for Kid. 

His favorite emoji: 🖕🏻

Whenever you annoy him with a stupid joke or a prank you saw on TikTok, his immediate reaction is to block you. He's so annoyed, please, leave him alone. He is immediately aware that it is a prank. Luffy always does the same to him before you do.

He's never using capital, it's for the emo aesthetic, like 'I hate bread'. Nope. But ✨"i hate bread."✨, yeah, much better

And yes, he uses "." everytime, it's for the dark and tired emo aesthetic. 

He always leaves a group conversation as soon as you include him. Please, he's so pissed off by those kinds of things. 

He's able to leave your message seen for days. Just because he was busy and forgot about what you said. If you need an answer, sure, try to call him. He always keeps his phone in silent mode. 

He likes to send you cool articles that he reads. Especially about medicine, tattoos or nerd stuff like movies, books, games etc.

"wanna go to a date tattoo with me tomorrow?" 

That kind of question is clearly his love language

He enjoys teasing you with random photos of his tattooed fingers or chest. "I bet you miss these fingers." And yeah, he's clearing curling his fingers on the pic like he would do when they are inside you. He's really good at teasing you with photos. 

Kid and Luffy steal his phone whenever he's with them. So be ready to receive a lot of ugly pictures of Law (taken by the chaotic duo), middle fingers from Kid, and blurry meat pictures from Luffy. 

Poor Law deserves a break.

Sanji 

Your name/photos in his contacts : 💗💘🛐Mon Amour (my love)🛐💘💗 With the most beautiful picture of you. 

His wallpaper : a cute couple photo.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery : a lot of cooking videos or photos, you, aesthetic pic of the sky and a private album with some hot nudes that you sent to him.

His favorites emojis : 💘💗💖🛐💍🧎🌺🌸🌹🫦🥰😘🧑🏻‍🍳🍽🍷🥘 (yeah, Sanji LOVES emojis)

He's always texting you back. If he can't reply within a second, he won't open the text. Sanji, leaving his beautiful s/o with that awful "seen"? Never. 

All the mornings "good morning sweetheart 💘" and all the evenings "sleep well sweetheart, dream about me 💖"

He wants to take a cute and aesthetic pic of the both of you all the days. 

He bombards you with pictures of his cooking. It's cute, but also annoying because he can't help but send extra long texts. He describes every single action he did, along with recipes and tips. 

He enjoys seeing your outfit of the day. He can attempt to match his clothes to yours. 

Random "I love you 💖" and "if no one told you you were pretty today : you're the prettiest 🥰" 

He enjoys sending you cooking videos. "We should eat this tonight. What do you think? 🧑🏻‍🍳"

He's pretty good at sexting. He knows how to take aesthetic photo of his hands, back, or mouth. Not just an ugly dick pick (Kid, Zoro, I'm looking at you). And he also likes to leave you some message like.

I would sit you down on this table if you were with me right now. You know, the one in your kitchen where he had dinner with your parents yesterday? I would gently kiss your neck, fondle your chest, and slowly kneel between your legs until you shout my name. You would pull on my hair, begging me to keep going until you cum repeatedly on my face.  👅 "

And if you send him a nude, well, he's going to die from a nosebleed.

Rest in peace, Sanji. 

Zoro

Your name/photos in his contacts : "y/n". You pick a picture for him because Zoro and phones are not compatible.

His wallpaper : a cool katana

What kind of pictures in his gallery : gym selfies, katanas and alcohol (all with ugly quality)

His fav emojis : 👍🏻 and 😴 Like:

"hey Zoro, you're alright" 👍🏻

"Zoro, wanna hang out?" 😴

"Babe, what are you doing?" 😴

"… am i annoying you?" 👍🏻

He can responds to absolutely anything with those two emojis. 

Zero is so oblivious, so let's be honest: he is not good at using phones. Almost every day, he forgets his phone at home. And even if he didn't forget about it, it's probably on silent mode or just off.

He doesn’t know how to use the keyboard, so prepare yourself for coded-message like "o!. @= sp⛑t t🧹day???/!df🆎e !!"He can't even use the excuse "my cat walked on my keyboard", he just sucks with technology.

Your messages are often "seen ✔️" and that's all. Not because he wants to be mean, just... he didn't understand the concept of answering every text. He takes all of your messages as random information. Like "Hey, I'd love to see you tonight!". Well. OK. Message understood. That's all.

The only application he has on his phone is Google Maps. Even with it, he still gets lost. "Turn left." Without a doubt, he turns right. 

Once, he tried to please you with a dick pic. But the photo was just terrible: bad luminosity, an ugly close-up of his cock, blurred as fuck, and you can see the dirty tissue behind him.

He doesn't answer when you call him because he's either asleep or at the gym (or drunk).

Once, he also tried to send you a voice message, but it was just the sound of the wind. He forgot to talk closer to the microphone.

Sabo 

Your name/photos in his contacts : "my revolutionary 🎩💛". With a beautiful pic of your smiling face. 

His wallpaper : a symbol of revolution. 

What kind of pictures in his gallery : petition screenshots, his brothers, you, anti-capitalist memes and a private album with some hot pic of you (naughty Sabo)

His fav emojis : 🔥✨🖕🏻💛✊🏻😡😏😎🤩👉🏻👌🏻🫵🏻

Sabo is... complicate. Sometimes, he doesn't answer for WEEKS. And sometimes he's extra chatty. And when he's chatty well...

Sabo is always spamming you with petition links. "Save the dolphins", "save the monkeys", "fuck capitalism", "for the resignation of *insert random politician name*" 

"Hey sweetheart, manifestation tomorrow. See you there!! 🫵🏻" 

When it's not petitions, it's probably videos or articles. Sabo is a pure revolutionary. Be prepared to receive lengthy texts when he wants to fight for a cause. It's cute, honestly. He's really involved and passionate. 

"You, me, on a trip tomorrow?! 😏"

Sabo has a knack for surprising you with trips, so prepare yourself. This man craves adventure and surprises. He wants you to join his crazy journey. 

Sometimes, he's using proper grammar and punctuation, sometimes he's using a lot of !!!!!!!!??????? And caps lock. Especially when he's furious about something.  He makes a lot of typo errors because he's always in a rush while typing.

Let's fught  *figrt *fijkt *FUCK *LET'S FIGHT (and fuck)

He enjoys taking pictures of you unexpectedly because it makes you seem more natural. 

"So… sweetheart… we have a new roommate" with a cute pic of a dog/frog/duck/snail/whatever. Sabo has a kind heart. If he sees a wounded or abandoned animal, he feels obliged to adopt it.

And regarding spicy texts… 

Sabo is a kinky boy. So sure, he's thirsty when it comes to sexting/nudes. As a revolutionary, he is also very careful. He always asks you first before sending you nude or spicy texts. If you're willing, then prepare yourself.

A bunch of nudes. Since he's good with them, he won't display his dick in a weird and unattractive angle to you. He enjoys showing you his hands when he's wearing his gloves. Or a mirror photo of his back.

"I know you will scratch it when I'll fuck you tonight 😏"

You're not forced to send him nude or spicy texts back. He respects your boundaries without exception. And if you send him a photo anyway, he's also really nice. Always a comment like "your ass is soooooo good with this angle. I can't believe I'm that lucky 🥵" and if he wants to save a photo for his collection, he's always asking if it's okay with you.

"Sweetie, i have a new toy for you… 💛"

We all know what he's talking about. Naughty Sabo.

[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.