#god this really is so sad when you think of that one panel where he says he isn’t going to be a vigilante for the rest of his life

[mangoisms]

hnghg

[batfamfucker]

Tell the truth comic fans challenge. When's the last time you read a comic and how many have you actually read?

P.S. This isn't me being gatekeepy btw I'm being genuine because I'm gonna be honest I've probably only actually read about five series and every thing else I've gotten from movies/series, online, or fanon. I know all the important events. Have I actually read them? No because my ADHD just wouldn't. And I can't be assed having to read important events if it's in a shit run by a bad writer.

[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.

[virginreprise]

J U N K Y ' P R I D E

joel miller x reader

" I KNOW I CAUGHT YOU AT A NOT SO HAPPY TIME OF YOUR LIFE " ✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

WARNINGS: age difference (big one), pervy joel, trailer park joel, joel miller has a vintage porn collection, joel's a sad old man, video game joel was in mind when writing, joel is six foot because i say so, multi-part, smut in the next chapter because i can't write anything if it isn't slowburn

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

AO3 LINK

CHAPTER ONE—BAD DISEASE

Static from the television set tucked in a corner, a beaten leather armchair parked in front of it and a stack of vintage, VHS porn tapes on the unit. One half of “Agent 69” stuck in the VCR, balancing on its side due to the lack of care from its owner who’d jacked off in the very chair that towered over it—cum stained fist and a name on his lips, slipped out between plush flesh. Hand frantic, jerking in tandem with the buck of his hips as he flit his eyes between the TV and the wood-panelled ceiling, profanities spilling from his filthy mouth. Muttering to himself as pornstar moans graced his ears, words whispered into the night, stolen by the archangels and flown up to God: conspiring, scheming, uttering under their breath that he should not be allowed through the holy gates on judgement day. That the defiled Bible on his bookshelf and the cross that had been left for him by the previous owners, pinned to the trailer wall, was not enough for them to ignore the strained sentences that he spewed in a desperate bid for the Trailer Park Princess on her knees—red nails and red lips wrapped around his cock. A ring of colour staining the base. 

Utter filth. And Joel knew it. 

The perversions he didn’t keep to himself, laughed about bending over the pretty thing next door whilst nursing a beer on Pete’s porch—puffing away on the cheap cigars he’d stolen from the liquor store. They tasted like shit, smelt like shit and Joel would’ve been better without it, but it added to the image: kept Susan from asking him stupid questions like why he didn’t have a woman. It was her way of flirting, bikini top displaying her sagging tits, bending over the kitchen counter whilst his buddies watched baseball. 

“You got your eye on anyone, Joel?” 

“Not really, Susan.” 

Then Pete interjecting. 

“Come off it, Susan. Just cause he ain’t committed don’t mean that he ain’t got women.”

That kept her quiet, made her slink away into the hallway, slipping into their bedroom and pulling a cover-up on—suddenly insecure. 

Joel wasn’t a pervert. He didn’t have some strange penchant for young women. They were just…nice to look at. Pretty and sun-kissed in the Texan heat, ass hanging out their shorts, bikini top doing much more to entice than Susan’s did. There was no harm in looking—they never knew. He prided himself on being discreet, nursing a beer in the late afternoon whilst Kenny Rogers lulled from the radio, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the porch floor—eyes trained on your open window, cracked just a tad to let the air through. Drapes open. 

At times, he thinks you do it on purpose, a gentle taunt, a silent jeer: “You can only look, perv.” 

If the invitation was there, he’d take you up on it. Because out of all the women he’d fucked, headboard bashing against the wall, a chip in the wood of the trailer evidence of his trysts, you were the only one who’d worked him up to the point of no return. The only one who’d grabbed him completely by the collar and forced him to lick your boots. 

Like Joel said, he wasn’t a pervert. You were just a fucking whore who needed to be put in her place. 

So he’d sit there, in the white garden chair he’d snatched up from the pile of scrap that accumulated just east of his trailer, and watch. Most days, you’d be doing nothing in particular, unfortunately already dressed, dirty clothes in hand and wet hair dripping down your back. Other days, the days where Joel thought he was really lucky, where he’d stumble inside with a hard-on, sit on his recliner and hastily shove whatever he got his hands on, into the VCR, skipping over the poorly acted introductions, and pretend that the moans reverberating the trailer, were yours. Images of you slipping your shorts over your hips, swaying slightly to whatever tune you were listening to, peeling your shirt off your body. No bra. Slyly stepping towards your window, catching his eye once, a look so slight that he wouldn’t be surprised if he imagined it, and pulled your drapes shut. 

He’d spilt all over his hand, white on his knuckles and a smile on his lips. 

Joel would never feel guilty for wanting you, not when he had already made peace with the fact he was a deadbeat, bound to the white trash lifestyle, unemployed and living off the pills he paid for and sold for a ridiculously high price, still grieving his losses and wondering what the fuck he could’ve done differently. If he would’ve done anything differently given the chance. 

No, Joel was not a bad person. He just looked for her in every person, desperately seeking a will. And so far, you had succeeded in helping him remove the gun from his mouth—evenings spent in different, dangerous ways. 

Texan summers were unlike anything you’d experienced before, the heat so incredibly stifling that your love for the sun disappeared completely. Mornings spent on the porch, soaking in the last bits of breeze before cycling your ass to work, sweating and heaving by the time you got there, in the same condition when you rode back home and locked yourself away with every window flung open before nightfall fell and you felt you could breathe again. 

The cicadas were loud, the snakes huddled up in the shade, waiting for you to trample on them, and the beast next door, Joel Miller: terrifying, gorgeous and a fucking pervert. 

The day you’d moved into the trailer, despairing the loss of stability, ruminating upon your desperate escape from a home now dead and lost to the prairies of your mind, he’d been there. Wifebeater stretched across his wide torso, a cigarette placed on his lips, unused as it hung there, smoking away, the grey wisps begging with each dissipation into the atmosphere: breathe me in. He’d stared. Unable to be subtle no matter how slick he thinks he is, eyes flitting between your tits and your ass. Tits. Ass. Tits. Ass. A calculated dance that left a funny feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach, a lurch in your bowels that made nausea claw its way up your throat. 

Tits. Ass. Then, he suddenly looked at your face, standing there on his porch, the sunrise building its way up the horizon, too early for anybody to see him looking you over like you were a dead deer he’d just shot, smirking at the notion of sawing your head off and displaying it on the wall above his mantle. Heaving boxes into the empty trailer, lot number seventeen, whilst the owner of lot eighteen wouldn’t take his fucking eyes off you, was a terrible feat. 

Once you’d shoved the last box into your bedroom, you’d shut the door, locked it tight and peeked through the window to see that he had gone back inside, retreating to the haven of steel and veneer. 

Over time, Joel became easier to manage. After the initial, awkward introductions where he’d called you princess, babydoll, sugar (almost adding a “tits” to the end of the nickname before realising where he was) your stomach reeling at the monikers, time settled your unmistakable disgust for him, the universe replaced the sickness you felt when you spoke to him with another stomach-turning anxiety that you pushed down far into every crevasse and high onto every mountain. 

You grew to enjoy the nicknames, skipping a few paces up his porch steps and ask him ever so kindly if he could come and fix the cupboard door that was swinging off its hinges, change the lightbulb because you couldn’t reach the ceiling yourself, stop the leaky tap that seemed to start drip drip dripping every month—just to bully you. 

Although you knew that Joel was a dirtbag, hearing him talking about the filthiest things, laughing as Pete clapped him on the back in praise and acknowledgement, knowing that he wanted nothing more than to treat you like a whore, he gave you nothing except a sly smile, a sleazy nickname and the occasional help around the house. Fixing things. 

So, naturally, you began asking around about Joel. Susan liked to gossip. So did Lillian, a woman who had spent her entire life in the park and, at sixty-two, had no interest in leaving. 

“I remember when he moved here,” she’d told you one fine summer evening, when the heat wasn’t as menacing and you felt content being away from the air conditioning, sipping sweet tea in Lillian’s wooden garden chairs, feet placed on the seat—chin resting on your knees. “All stoic, wouldn’t speak ‘ta anyone. I could tell he’d gone through something bad, you know me and my sixth sense.” 

She’d paused for a moment, taking a drag, a sip, a sigh before looking at you solemnly. 

“He was a catch with the ladies,” she’d muttered. “They were all after him, even this one over here,” she’d pointed to Susan who’d smacked her arm, complaining about her disrespect. She was a married, loyal woman after all. “Well, it’s true. If I were twenty years younger, I would’ve gone for him too, but it wouldn’t have done much anyway cause he didn’t touch anyone. There ain’t many pretty young ladies round here, you know you’re the only one,” she’d said plainly, addressing you with a hint of affection. 

Waving her cigarette around as she relayed every single detail she knew about Joel’s love life, telling you how after a few years of moping, he’d bring back girls in the middle of the night, fuck them, and then throw them out the next day. 

“He’s not a romantic,” Lillian had prefaced, Susan interjecting with:

“Ya think so? I think he is…if he just found the right woman-”

“Oh don’t listen to her Darlin’, he’s a man who likes to play. He ain’t lookin’ to settle, I tell you that much.” 

Listening to them both, their anecdotes, their stories, and their opinions, you concluded one thing about Joel Miller. He was an asshole. A man who had done nothing to better his life since he stepped foot in the trailer park ten years ago, a sag in his shoulders and an anger in his eyes. 

You weren’t sure if he’d mellowed since then, or if he’d just managed to conceal it better. Joel hadn’t been angry around you, not when you knocked on his door at three in the morning, asking him if he could come get the spider out of your bedroom, not when you’d accidentally run into his truck with your bike or told him that he was an asshole when you’d caught him talking about you one day in springtime. 

“She’s as dumb as fucking rocks,” he’d chuckled. “Bet she gets cockdrunk so easy.” 

He’d grumbled out the last sentence, an afterthought that was more for him than the men he was talking to, but you, stumbling around, half-asleep after your shift, were not willing to take the degradation. You’d berated him in front of his peers, slammed the door behind you, and regretted it immediately. Because, even though it shouldn’t matter, even though you thought he was pervy and angry and wouldn’t treat you how you’d been told you deserved, the last thing you wanted was for him to hate you. 

Every time he praised you, told you that you looked good as you stepped out of your home, on your way to Lillian’s for a catch-up and the cigarettes she bought you every three weeks, just for being good and keeping her company, you felt that tingle, the synaptic transmissions running down your spine every time he stepped through your door, asking what the issue with your tap was. You should’ve been disgusted when he’d left and you’d gone to the bathroom only to find the panties you’d left on the floor were gone, but you’d felt that same spark instead. A deep, sliding ache that consumed every part of you. 

Luckily for you, your sink decided to start leaking again on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon. Perfect time to lure him into your trailer, grab him by the neck and ask him as nicely as you could if he could cease the pain. 

Sip of beer, drag of cigarette, click of the remote to change the channel, repeat. 

A usual Sunday afternoon pastime. 

Joel would’ve rifled through his VHS’s, find something he could jack off to whilst he deliberated whether today would be the day he’d say “fuck it” and saunter on over to next door, hoping to god he’d get his dick wet by someone other than a whore, but he couldn’t be bothered to move from his seat. It was effort enough trying to change the channel, arm aching as he pressed the button, rolling his eyes as the same boring drab illuminated his TV screen. 

It was another one of those days. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, the broken glass, the notion that he would never fix it no matter how easy it would’ve been to go over to Shane’s and ask him to get it working again, all for the low price of a few pills. 

She’d left him with it and he would die with it. 

A reminder of her every time he glanced at his watch, swallowing hard as he remembered the way he’d pressed cool metal to the side of his head, a tear slipping down his cheek before realising that he never could. Because Joel was an asshole, he knew that. He was selfish and cruel and spoke about people as if they could get any lower than he already was. But more so than anything, Joel was a sad old man.

Tommy, the damn bastard, who’d left Joel to fend for himself while he went off with his new-found “true love” to have kids and a decent life, had sent a few thousand dollars and a pitiful “I’m sorry, Joel,” over the phone after his big brother had fucked up and lost his job. When Joel had been left penniless and broken. Nothing to fight for. No one to hold him or tell him that he was loved. He’d spent all his money raiding gas stations for cases of beer, bottles of whisky, anything that could numb the pain—choosing the alcohol over food, over his mortgage. When he’d lost the house, he hadn’t taken anything of hers. Even after she’d died, he’d insisted that everything needed getting rid of. Her clothes, her posters, even her damn phone. He’d slammed Tommy against the wall after realising that he was taking everything with him, that he was not doing as he was told. After that, Joel had closed the door on her bedroom and never stepped foot in it again. 

All he had of her was a damn watch, a photo that his little brother had shoved into his hands, a harsh, “Take it, you damn bastard. You’ll regret it when you stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” on his lips, and the memory of her in his arms when he’d felt that huge heart of hers stop beating. 

There had been many low points in Joel’s life, wandering through his existence on a tightrope that was ready to snap with every step, but none had been lower than that. 

Not even when he’d called Tommy in the middle of the night, sobbing, struggling to breathe with a clean bottle of Jim Beam in his hands, begging him to help. He’d lost his house, he’d lost his job, he’d lost his daughter. Where to next? 

Tommy, all the way in Wyoming had scraped together some money, told Joel to get himself down to the mobile park and a steady job. Start from the bottom again. 

Sometimes, Joel resented his brother for not giving him that money for a flight to the West, smiling down the phone as he informed that they had a spare room for him, his nephew cooing in his bassinet and waiting for his old uncle. 

He understood though. When he wasn’t drunk it made more sense why he hadn’t invited him to his home. 

They hadn’t spoken in sixteen years. To his nephew whom he did not know the name of, he was just the deadbeat uncle who hadn’t made it out of Texas—still alive but lost. 

Tommy would’ve probably hated him more if he was sitting on Joel’s couch, staring at the porn and the beer, the cigarettes that his little brother knew he had only smoked when he was a rebellious teenager—the occasional pull never becoming a habit, especially when his daughter came along. 

Almost certainly would’ve despised him if he knew how he felt about the girl next door, the perverse catharsis he experienced when he took himself in hand and imagined taking care of her, shushing her whimpers, making her whine with the way he stretched her open. 

Oh, and he was a bad man. A bad fucking man and he was the last thing you needed. Some poor, young girl who was doing her best to make it. Pay the rent on time, make sure she was kept fed, all whilst juggling the inescapable feeling that once you were in the trailer park there was no getting out. 

Joel didn’t see an end. He’d been here for over a decade; his drug money was not for a new house or a new life, it was for whores and booze, a carton of Marlboro reds that he got for cheap from Bill, and porn. He’d collected all the goddamn vices—became a person so unlike who he was, so far from the quietly loveable single dad he’d been hailed as years ago. 

As far as Joel now was concerned, that guy was a fucking pussy. 

That guy would think he needed professional help for the way he thought about you, would expel every single image of you naked and writhing, tits bouncing in time with his thrusts as you lay boneless and crying in his grasp. 

You were legal. What was the big fucking deal? 

Joel needed this. You were not just some throwaway material good that would leave him in debt for the next ten years—you were full and gorgeous, smart, quick-witted and made him harder than the oak tree that stood centuries-old just a little down the road from the old Palmer farmhouse. 

That day you’d heard him talking about you to his friends, the way he’d lied and said that you were dumb, when you’d come storming up his porch steps—all rage and heat—and cussed him out, he’d laughed. It didn’t matter about the taunts and the sniggers he got from his buddies who he would have no issue never speaking to again. They could go fuck themselves for all he cared because you hadn’t willingly thrown yourself at his feet and licked his boots. 

Whores were easy. No challenge with a whore, no longing, no desire, just a mutual understanding that this was transactional and she was going to moan as loud as you wanted her to whether it felt good or not. 

But you had given Joel something worth chasing. And fuck he was going to catch you, even if it meant he’d die in the chair he sat in, with nothing to show for his life except a case of Bud, an empty fridge, and a stain on his bedsheets where you’d reached for him—begging for everything he could not give.

Something about him had you checking your appearance before you walked out the door, making your hair presentable, touching up your lipgloss, blotting the oil from your face. All for a man who saw you as nothing but jailbait

You wanted to be wanted. To be looked at with a fire, an urge to grasp you and take you fully, pull you close when you cried and kiss you when you shook with the need to run far away. You wanted to be kept, to be reminded every day that you were needed, loved and desired.

You wanted Joel. 

Joel: the sad old man next door, the dangerously handsome figure in your life that stood six feet tall, jaw sharp and strong, muscles straining with his arms crossed—built big and firm. A chest you’d very much like to lay your head on. A bulge in his pants you’d very much like to see stripped bare. 

So when the opportunity came, you seized it, with an iron first, intent on capturing what had been yours since the day you’d moved to the free prison—since the day he’d stared at you, an unadulterated and irremovable, perverse desire that shook the very beings of your existence. That determined exactly who you are and how you would fall for the watchful eyes and glinting gaze that befell you every time you stepped down the rotten wood steps at the foot of the trailer entrance. 

You stepped onto them then, Chuck Taylors strapped to your feet, laces loose and lazily tied, skin smoothed from the razor you’d pressed against it in the shower that morning—all for him. The appearance every bit of expectation you had for his fantasies and ideals, hoping that the attire would thrust him further into abandoning a morality he did not have. 

The sun set rapidly behind you, the grass long and dry around your ankles, unmowed—as you nor Joel had ever discussed who would get mowing duty—and a clear head. A set destination, unstifled by a long day at work, the sweat curling along your back too harsh to be ignored and the sometimes discourteous demeanour of Joel’s so powerful that you often wondered why you liked him. Why you gave so much attention to a man years ahead of you, unable to look at you without laughing at the prospect you thought you were more to him than a pretty thing to look at whilst he wallowed in his castle of self-pity he’d built for himself all these years spent trapped and lonely. 

It all seemed insignificant that day you’d crossed the boundary between lot seventeen and lot eighteen. When you’d shakily advanced up his steps, onto the porch you grew so fond of, and knocked once, twice, thrice on the white door—stepping back to await his welcome. Hoping to god that he’d see you and take you there. 

The shuffling on the other side of the door raised your heart rate, a sweat forming on the back of your neck which you brushed away with a hasty hand, intimidated by what awaited you when the white disappeared and transformed into bulking arms and a firm chest—a tall body that you gazed up at with ardour. 

When the sight appeared, you gulped away the desire to run away, to pretend that you’d just come here for the leaky tap and that there was no other reason you had bothered him on his peaceful Sunday afternoon. No ulterior motive. Not that you just wanted to see him because he had hardly been around the past couple of days and in truth you were worried about him; you wanted to make him feel better. 

“Hi.” He struggled to conceal the surprise in his voice, seemingly struggling further to keep the thickness in his throat at bay, the redness of his eyes that displayed days of restlessness and insomnia. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” you murmured impassively, licking your lips, swallowing away the dryness in your throat at the state of him: burning cigarette in hand, flannel shirt unbuttoned and displaying the white wifebeater that lay underneath. The shape of his belly was visible underneath it, his belt purposefully unbuckled and hanging from the loops of his jeans. “I’m alright.” 

There was a twitch of his lips as he stared down at you, eyes flitting from head to toe—shameless in the way he always was. In the way you liked. 

“You sure?” 

It seemed stupid suddenly: the entire situation. The call you felt towards him, the want you had to curl up against his chest, let him hold you and tell you he was proud of you for opening up to him—telling him how fucking much you wanted him, despite knowing exactly how it would end if you were to venture further into a relationship that surpassed just neighbours. 

So instead of inviting yourself in, seducing him until he fell to his knees, tugged you by the waist and begged you for just the smallest piece of yourself, you succumbed to your insecurity, and retreated from the palace walls. 

“Yeah…yeah, it’s just that my taps leaking again.” For a split second, he almost looked irritated, eyes honing in on you, narrowing with a look of aggravation—confirmed by the clench of his jaw. You appeased him, saying, “You don’t have to come over now. I just thought I’d tell you,” and the expression slowly slipped away into something much more sinister: mirth. 

“Sure thing, pretty girl,” he said as he slinked away from the doorframe, inviting you into his home, coaxing you past the threshold as he fumbled about in the fridge and pulled out two beers. 

Contemplating, you stared at him, the flex of his muscles as he uncapped each bottle, the stature and size of him as he hunched over the counters, turning around to hold out a drink to you. An invitation. One that you had expected you’d have to give yourself—that you’d have to kick and cry before he ever let himself find you. 

“Just have a drink,” he soothed in that southern lull of his, the words rolling from his tongue with ease. As if he had practised the scenario before he knew it would befall him. “No point in worrying over your tap, I can’t do anything until I buy new washers. I’m out 'cause of you.” 

The irritation he’d shown earlier seemed palpable now—as if he was inviting you into his home simply to make you as uncomfortable as possible, hold you down by the hips until you promised to leave him alone. A taunt, a ploy to make sure you would never get what you wanted. 

However, you had never stepped foot in his trailer, had only ever been on his porch and ran your hand over the chair he frequented, wondering what it looked like beyond the four walls, and curiosity prevailed as it always did. 

Uncertainly, you stepped onto the carpet, gently closing the door behind you, and mumbled a thank you as you took the beer from his hand. 

Almost immediately, you felt like apologising for his irrational emotions. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I didn’t mean to put you out. I’ll pay for whatever you need-”

“You pay in ways you don’t know. I don’t need your money.” 

The cryptic way in which he spoke, the casualness as he gave you a look that hinted at something you couldn’t decipher and the slow saunter to his armchair left you in a state of uncertainty. Standing there, with a beer wetting your hand, a frown on your face and a furrowed brow, you had no idea where to go next. What would await you if you questioned him—the things you would discover that were best left in the hands of God and no one else. 

Again, curiosity thrust its violent hand into your stomach and forced your feet to start moving towards him, hoping that he’d appreciate your bravery—your denial of your urges to run far away. It was noted, however, that Joel Miller could care less about bravery. That the quality itself was right down at the bottom of the ladder and that he could and would not give a shit if you welcomed his advances in spite of your lack of courage. 

Hesitantly, you planted yourself on his couch, the furniture built into the wall, curving into an L shape where you imagined he’d kick his feet up after a long day, palm the bulge in his jeans and pick from the litany of porn that you took one glance at and thought better than to stare at it too long in case he felt offended by your interest. 

The discovery admittedly took away a little of his allure. 

“Make yourself at home,” he insisted, taking a sip of his beer and urging you to do the same with a single nod of his head. The slight twitch of his lips when you did so caused your body to go squirming, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as the fire raged within you—unable to be sated with the way he looked at you then. 

Just a scoff, a sip, and a glance at your lips before he turned away completely and focused his attention on the blank TV screen— his reflection the only entertainment. 

Silence grew uncomfortable, the bitter taste of alcohol coating the back of your throat, dripping down your oesophagus and choking any words that you wished to say. The heat emanating from him was overpowering even from the distance you sat apart, the scent of cigarettes overwhelming, so much so that you needed a distraction, anything to dull the rest of your senses from shutting down—all because of his powerful presence; the effect he had on you even when he sat still and awaited your call. 

“What did you mean?” The words came tumbling from your mouth, driven by an insatiable desire and lacklustre confidence you had somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach, bubbling with the acid that nestled there until it rose to the surface—bile transforming into questions that could leave you in a shell of humiliation. At his furrowed brow, you expanded. “About me paying in ways I don’t know.” 

He leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. Sombre, all of a sudden. Staring into the barrel of his bottle, the brown glass reflecting like constellations on his face—accentuating the sharp angle of his jawline, the sunken hollows of his cheekbones. 

When his eyes nestled on yours, burrowing right into your skull, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t even fathom the thought of taking a lungful of air, waiting with your breath held tight inside, for his answer. 

“You shouldn’t go asking questions like that.” He sipped quietly, wetting his lips by flicking his tongue in and out, averting his gaze back to the shadow of himself in the television. “You’ll get yourself in trouble.” 

It was not the answer you wished for, eyes downcast, focused on your shaking knee as you tried to gauge some form of clarity beneath the mystery that clouded the gates to his head—what lay beneath his skull; what you wished to find. 

Against your better judgment, you pressed further, keeping the beer bottle clutched between your hands and hoping it would stay cold forever. 

“I can handle myself.” It came out more confident than you had expected, your bobbing knee ceasing its movement, your dry throat provided with moisture. A break from the anxious sweat you had broken out in. “If you don’t tell me I’ll just leave a hundred dollars on your doorstep and leave you alone.” 

You hoped quietly, in that stifling room, that he would make sure it didn’t come to that. That he would let you pay in any way he saw fit. You hoped that the sad hulk of a man sitting in the lone chair with porn in every drawer and money set aside for whores, would let you have him—bring back a semblance of light to his eyes. Find out what kept the despondency trapped so tight around him, the crown of thorns on his head expanding until it reached his feet and kept him locked in nature's prison—skin scratched, bloody and unable to be healed unless he found someone willing to cut through the overgrowth. 

He seemed to bristle at your words, shoulders tightening, jaw clenching in the manner he did when he was irritated. You’d seen it before when Dale had been drunk and had followed you home. When you’d stumbled uncomfortably to your trailer and pleaded Joel who sat on his porch, almost looking like he was waiting for you, to get him off your back. That tick, the downturn of his brow, the twitch of his lip, the look so intimidating you had rushed inside and watched through the window as Joel clapped a hand on Dale’s back and ushered him away from you.

You had no idea what he’d done after they’d left your sight but Dale barely looked at you after. The last interaction you’d had with him was the morning after when he’d knocked on your door, timid for a fifty-year-old man, and apologised. Joel had been there, like he almost always was—always dancing in your peripheral, waiting for you, taunting you—with a cup of coffee clasped between two hands and a smug look on his face when he watched the interaction. 

“You ain’t as smart as you think you are,” he uttered, slipping you away from the vignette and shattering the memory with his simple words. 

They stung. More than you cared to admit. 

Men were never this difficult, never this hard to get through to, never this confusing. He had given you every possible sign, every protection, every knowing look that confessed: you are everything I wish to have. 

It seemed every day he was further from you, every day he looked at you and thought that he was blinded by loneliness and that you were the last thing he needed to dote on. 

With the rejection, came vexation, a rumbling little thing that forced its way into your mouth—lips parting to let it out. 

“You’re not as discreet as you think you are.” As soon as they fell, the rest came following like a herd of bulls, a huge red flag flying through the air, right where Joel sat. They came for him, and you didn’t care enough to stop them. “I’m not stupid, no matter what you say.” 

The tick, tick, tick of his jaw. That subtle way his eyes narrowed, honing in on everything but the thing causing his problems, trying desperately to stop the truths from betraying his conceptions. 

“I see you, Joel. I see you through my bedroom window, using me as your personal stripper because you’re too fucking cheap to go down to the strip club and give a tip.” The push and pull was becoming apparent, the sympathy and disgust you held for him all at once growing and growing until all that prevailed was rage. That after everything, he still refused. That he was still a fucking coward no matter how many faces he pulled at anyone who looked at him wrong. You would not be deterred by the look he gave you then: one that should’ve made you shrink away in fear he would do something rash. “I see the way you looked at me from day fucking one. Just a pair of tits to stare at, a new young girl that you can prey on-”

“Stop.” 

“I’m not stupid.” Your voice was rising rapidly, your lips downturned in a scowl, unable to see the danger that befell you if you continued. “I know how you talk about me to your friends, I know that you make a show of being this immovable thing that no one can ever get to because you’re so wrapped up in your own self-pity that you can’t even admit to yourself that the only thing you are is a fucking pervert. And an asshole.” 

“You are crossing a line, little girl.” 

His words fell on deaf ears, a scoff coming from the back of your throat—so many things that you wanted to say but couldn’t voice. You settled for a final, blow. One that might kick him off his feet. 

“I know you stole my panties.” Jaw ticking, teeth grinding so hard they were liable to turn to dust in his mouth. “Took them right off my bathroom floor. Could you not help yourself? Are you that sad, Joel? Are you that much of a fucking perve-” 

Silenced by the way he towered, standing upright, bottle discarded by the leg of his chair and fury dancing in his eyes—so apparent and profound you finally stopped and cowered. 

“You don’t know a thing about me.” 

You were stunned into submission, finally on the end of his intimidation—a feat that was sure to happen sooner rather than later. You were just another Dale, just another one of his victims that he shot down with narrowed eyes and a nasty tone of voice that forced you to swallow down the confidence—sending it right back to your stomach, and burning the false assurance away. 

“I have been cordial with you for as long as possible.” There was danger in the way he spoke so calmly, a tremor in your hands as he stepped forward, facing you completely, and kneeled before you—eyes boring into yours, forcing you to look at him with the hand he placed on the couch beside you. “I’ve tried my hardest to be respectable but you make it so damn difficult.” 

“I’m sorry,” you began, wishing you could take it all back, wishing that you could’ve used your boldness for better: crawled into his lap and let him hold you, sank to your knees like he and worshipped him with every bit of yourself you had.

“Sh, sh, sh,” he shook his head, the hand on the couch, moving, the weight of it resting there dissipating and falling even heavier on the side of your face. “You can’t take it back now.” 

Nerves slipped like rapids through your stomach, the damn thing churning so much you began to feel sick with the anticipation and fear you felt being closer to him than you ever had been before. Your mouth opened as if to speak, then closed again when you realised that your throat had closed, the inside of your mouth dry and unable to lubricate your words with credibility as they fell from your lips.

“You think I’m a pervert?” he asked, eyes expecting an answer, eyebrows raising to help you find a response. “Hm?” 

“Yes.” The monosyllable fell shakily, unable to lie when he was looking at you so harshly, all whilst stroking your cheekbone with his thumb and engulfing the right side of your face with one, big, warm hand. 

He nodded with knowing, his other hand falling to your bare knee. You were crowded by him, completely consumed by his presence and with a harsh swallow, you hoped that he would slip away and allow you to breathe—if only for a moment. 

“I know,” he said with finality, your cheek whacked with cold air as he removed his hand, quickly providing you with warmth again as he pressed his thumb to your chin, holding it delicately. Making sure you couldn’t look away from him. “But you like it, don’t you?” he brushed the bottom of your lip with his nail, an uncontrollable shiver running through you that he revelled in.

He’d called your bluff entirely. He’d locked you up in his cage, gave you the upper hand for just a second, made you believe that you could get away from him if you kicked and screamed enough, only to leave you hopeless as he twisted the key to the right, and threw the metal that granted you freedom, into the fire. 

“If you had an issue with me looking, you’d close the drapes. You’re a smart girl, I’m sure it ain’t too hard for you.” 

His patronisation, his demeanour that consisted of arousal and determination, had a small breath puffing from your lungs, a sudden and overwhelming heat crawling from each of his hands and into your head—breaking your rationale and leaving you pliable and willing in his grasp. He’d got you. Right there. And if he wanted you, you would let him have you. 

“And if you didn’t want me to steal your panties, then you shouldn’t have left them there.” 

It was unbelievable, the way he twisted the blame onto you, the way he made you believe in everything he was saying with a simple swipe of his thumb over your bottom lip and a look in his eyes that stopped you from questioning him. 

“Yes, Joel, I’m sorry, Joel,” were the only words swimming through your head: words that you would’ve spoken aloud had he not stunned you into silence, the hand on your knee sliding along your skin, up towards the hem of your shorts where he slipped his fingers under and skimmed the skin concealed by the denim. 

“You understand me, little girl?” 

“I’m not a little girl,” you managed, voice shaky as the warmth of him engulfed you entirely, wrapped up in the scent of him, the feel of the callouses along your smooth skin and the eyes piercing you. If looks could kill…if those pretty eyes could rip you apart with the viciousness of their stare. 

“No you ain’t,” he murmured, gripping your chin, thumb rubbing along the flesh of your bottom lip, the skin bouncing as he peeled it back and let go. “I know you ain’t.” 

There seemed a flood came over his being, a white wave of purity dowsing him, ridding him of every adulteration and forcing sense back into his head as the hand fell from your face, the one on your inner thigh taking longer to slip away before the cloud of insensibility faded and he arrived to a semblance of morality. 

You watched as he stumbled over to the kitchen, hand working over the scruff he called a beard and forced his eyes away from you. 

“Joel,” you called softly, finally gaining back a little strength now he wasn’t crowding you; forcing you to look at him and make the first move so his conscience could be clean. 

“Just go.” The words were uttered much softer than before, the delicacy of his voice surprising you but the strain that coated his throat a reminder that this was still Joel Miller. Dangerously beautiful Joel Miller with a lifetime of terror stashed somewhere in the backrooms of his mind, a darkness in the depths of his eyes you couldn’t help but be frightened by, and a story you wished he would tell. A story that stretched years back to the life before he crept past the opening gates of Shady Springs Mobile Park and left a life that you had no clue wether  had been better or worse than his life now. “I’ll come over tomorrow afternoon and have a look at that tap. You might have to get maintenance round soon though if it keeps up.” 

“I don’t like strangers…in my house.” Your words trailed off at the end of your sentence, caught up in the possibilities of your words and how he would reply. If he would see right through you and clock how you’d only spoken because the tap was one of the biggest ties you had to Joel. If he would realise that you’d thought about getting maintenance months ago when it first started dripping but didn’t want a permanent fix, no matter how annoying. All because of Joel Miller and the way he’d perversely captured you in the plot of some barely legal porno that you would’ve turned your nose up at if it was anyone but him and you. 

You and Joel. 

The thought sounded nice—the reality a little less nicer. 

“Yeah, well…” he leant back on the countertops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes bloodshot and bordered by black—an undeniable piece of evidence that Joel perhaps wasn’t doing as well as he made everyone believe; that there was something deeper tugging at his mind and causing such aggravation. 

After a moments silence, when he looked at you and you looked right back at him, your head clear and working properly again, you diverted the conversation elsewhere—a ploy to hack deeper at his head and find what lay underneath his skull. 

“Are you okay?” Simple, easy. Not difficult to ascertain the concern laced deep in your tone because you were concerned for him. The moment he’d opened the door after days of barely seeing him, time spent cursing the fact he could peer through your windows but you could not peer through his, you knew something was wrong. That there was something happening to him. Something dangerous. Your sympathy began to overtake everything else, memory shed of all the times he had wronged you and replaced with the very little he had done right. “You look…tired. Exhausted, really.” 

“I’m fine,” he said with finality, the rage in his eyes returning but with less power this time. The fatigue was setting in, the constant running from himself finally catching up to him. 

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine.” It shut you up well enough, so much so that you began to lose the commiserations. You could always say you tried. “Now get out of my house.” 

It was the final thing he said to you before he slipped away, striding down the hallway, footsteps echoing until he reached the bedroom; the click of the door resounding throughout the trailer. 

You stared at the spot where he’d kneeled, a finger brushing softly over your lip before shaking away the self-pity and gently placing the beer bottle on the table that sat next to his chair. 

Looking one last time at the door at the end of the hallway, shadowed and guarded by snapping dogs, you opened the door, the damn thing creaking as if to shout to everyone within a mile radius that you had made no progress with the man you desperately wanted, and stepped out. Leaving your pride on the doorstep. 

© virginreprise

thanks for reading !

[majorproblems77]

Hello LU fans! I'm back with another LU update analysis! :D

Are you ready cause there's so much to unpack I'm gonna be here a while. Like last time I'm gonna put a timer on lmao, see how long this takes me.

As always grab your popcorn and drink of choice, cause we need hydration in this life.

all art belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, and if I pull panels from any other pages I'll let you know where it's from! :D

Obviously spoilers for Dawn 8 :D

And a note, I've not played TP or WW, you'll see why thats important later.

Let us begin, shall we!

Man, Poor wild, he's probably beating himself up like there's no tomorrow right now. He looks HORIFIED.

Probably because in technicality, he failed.

I love how he's holding his sword here too. Kinda acting as a shield to the conversation.

Same expression as wild. He also looks horrified. Infact the resemblance between these two in uncanny.

Man time really is the dad isnt he. Unimpressed dad look at 12'oclock. Jokes aside he doesn't look angry about it. He looks like he now gathering information from those who finished the fight. As we know once he left with Twilight he was the only other one to not make it back to the fight.

Thats a fair sentence, thinking about it, I think the only other game where Iron Knuckles appear is in one of Hyrule's games? I'm surprised he's not mentioned anything about it.

Most of the others do have armoured enemies though. So while the others dont have direct experience I assume they have the basics.

All but, Sky and Wars None of them fight armoured enemies like that in their games.

I assume because he's defeated this thing like it was a guardian (Stasis and then wailing on it cause that's what i would do lmao) He assumed it was defeated when it exploded into pieces. Like guardians are prone to do. tbh he was probably gonna go back to look for loot at some point.

You tell them Wind. The small hero, underestimated by everyone BUT Time. Was correct thank you.

Justice for the windy boy.

God Wild really is beating himself up about this. I love the fact that we see four's reaction to this statement. As to be honest. Over the last few nights, Four and Wild have had plenty of bonding moments. These guys are gonna become best friends.

And now we get Time.

The way he's looking over these panels. That look. He know's he's the leader of this group but something that Time isn't used to is making Permanent mistakes.

He has the Ocarina of Time, and when he was back in Termina every time something went wrong he could just play the song of Time and restart the three-day cycle with no trouble at all.

Time, as a person. Isnt technically used to failing.

This panel is stunning. It's what I assume is going on inside his head. It's so pretty. It's so detailed it's just oh man easily one of my favourite panels.

now you know i had to talk about panels with my beloved blorbo in.

first off he's so pretty. Jojo has really outdone herself with just how amazing these updates have looked. The lighting the shading its all just so incredible.

The first half of this panel with Sky's face. He, He is beating himself up about the injury. He had nothing to do with it but he cares so much about the rest of the group he feels bad. He kinda looks like he's thinking about it. Like he can see it. Like time did but we dont see inside Sky's head.

Makes me think about what exactly he saw.

And Twilight's face, he looks so sad. His little pout. Poor wolf boy, which we can now call you properly as the rest of them know now.

And to be honest I'm glad he's standing his ground. Mr, My injury isn't that bad before falling over. the stubborn ranch hand strikes again.

The parallels from this frame and the one from later have been mentioned elsewhere but I'm just gonna post the frame here as it's turned up. Run you coward lizard. Run.

Captain link is back. Poor warriors, he's still showing signs of being stressed. He's one of the only one's who hasn't been able to rest over the downtime that they've had. He's been busy being in charge of the group while Time was out.

I can only assume it's only a matter of time before this comes back to get him. Maybe he is next on the chopping block? (Pun kinda intended) Something could happen and he messes up and gets hurt of causes someone to get hurt.

oh and also

THE SCARF

THE SCARF THE SCARF

IT HAS RETURNED ALL HAIL THE BLUE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLANKET WARRIORS NEEDED YOU.

None of us did, Hyrule.

The boys ever, I'm glad they are talking about this like this. And that it's legend who's starting to throw ideas out there like this. As the one who's got the most experience in the group, it makes sense that he would be the one to start offering ideas as to Why not just how.

Because you pissed it off Sky. Because half of you pissed it off. In fact I do believe he had a bunch of panels in Shifting Shadows pt2 where you indeed pissed it off.

The entire reason it started running from you and Twilight had to track it was because of FI's reaction to his sword.

Wait... that explains the guilt. It is actually potentially Sky's fault. Or if he's anything like I think he is. He remembers that fight with the shadow and knows.

He knows.

Also, with clenched fist Sky is ready for a fight. Next time the shadow turns up I assume he's gonna go after it when it's inevitablebly goes after Twilight/Wild. Maybe he'll jump in after being told not too because the Master sword appears to be the only thing as of right now that can fight the red stuff that comes off the shadows sword.

did you hear Warriors shiver? I did.

And you'd know all about that wouldn't you Four. :D

Also

Mandatory Sky appreciation picture

Him's my beloved blorbo. He's wonderful. Such a lil guy. Bestest bean. My beloved. /pl

Anyway moving on

Oh yeah, the amount of power that the items list contains We've seen the arsenal that they have between them (in the December art).

We saw what just Time could do.

Now add the rest of them and the enemies dont stand a chance. They've just gotta figure out how to either avoid the weapons of each other or work as a team with the arsenal in hand to fight better.

Like imagine if Twilight used his gale boomerang to send Wild into the air.

(Writer brain go brr, gonna write that down)

It's basically Revalis Gale.

This man is so damn dramatic I love him

And here's the parallel frame

the shadow running towards Warriors vs running away from Twilight.

You know thinking about it... Shadow didn't shapeshift until Twilight did. The push towards Warriors was when shadow thought they were on level footing.

But when Twilight went after Dink, he was the one who had to flee because he lost his advantage.

ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY

The man is pissed that Shadow hurt Twilight. He is so damn mad and I think that he is saying what he would assume Fi would. (With more emotion because well, Fi)

Also that last frame.

TIME AND SKY ANGST ON THE HORIZON?

time is looking towards the master sword. And he looks angry. This will absolutely have gone unnoticed by the others because if they saw he was angry it was probably just because of the conversation topic.

god I love the dynamic here and I'm excited to see if it goes anywhere

Him's I love his simple way of agreeing its wonderful.

I approve to wind let's go blow some stuff up!

Hyrule shows the group why he is called the traveller. The man just wants to go on his adventures let him go!

Sky is so proud of himself

this face says 'Look guys I didn't give it to the weird toilet hand! :D'

I love this man a healthy amount.

One last thing before I go

I love this update as a whole, seeing the group gear up and getting to see the layers of the armour and straps and fastenings being put on while they are having this discussion is amazing.

I'd give you a collection of pictures but Tumblr is being rude and I can't post more than 30. So you can have these as all four panels show what I'm talking about.

Twilight adjusting his gauntlets warriors adjusting his scarf.

Hyrule attaching his shield to his back and putting his sword strap on.

God, I love this update so much. It was amazing and I very much enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! :D

Thank you as ever for reading my rambles i appreciate you :D

Have a wonderful day and dont forget to hydrate! See you next time!

[starry-bi-sky]

Just so you know, I've reread your answer to my ask about how you'd rewrite "Double Cross My Heart" in your Danyal Al Ghul au several times over. And I'll just say, your whole breakdown and revision of that trainwreck of a Sam centered episode is the very reason why when it comes to the phandom, both alone and in dpxdc crossovers I tend to lean more towards fanon Sam instead of canon.

Because the people that like her yet acknowledge her glaring flaws do a far better job of bringing her to task when she's being unreasonable or hypocritical in a way that's fair than the supposedly professional storyboard writers.

Anyway, you mentioned that you don't like amethyst ocean and prefer gray ghost. Same here. (though I also like pink astronaut) Since then, I can't stop imagining Danyal/Danny with the "Damian experiencing his first crush" headcanon applied to him. The idea of him treating Valerie with suspicion under the assumption she somehow poisoned or hit him with some kind of hidden anti ghost tech that affects both his human and ghost side, when in reality it's simply him developing feelings for her is just absolute hilarity. To me if no one else.

FIRST OFF YOU ARE SO SWEET <33 the fact that you've read my post about Double Cross My Heart SEVERAL TIMES means I'm now morally obligated to die for you. I'll admit! I was a bit harsh on Sam a little in my original response, because I was irritated by some depictions of her in fanon painting her as someone who could do no wrong and had the only braincell in the group. So I was kinda picking on her a little bit. Would I change a thing? No, I love her character, I just love dissecting her flaws even more.

AND ALSO YOU'RE SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DANYAL THING. That's so cute and so funny, effective immediately it is now canon🧑‍⚖️ . He fought Red Huntress earlier that day and she got a lucky good hit on him, and it's literally that one Marina reaction image where the first panel she looks shocked, the next she looks into it. At least part of it. That's literally what happened, and the next time Danny runs into Valerie at school his heart flutters.

Danny puts up this whole conspiracy board because Valerie smiled at him and his heart went all flippy-floppy and what is this FEELING. He shows it to Sam and Tucker and they both are doing that hands folded prayer-style pressed against their mouths in concern thing, and they don't know whether they should laugh or cry.

Because on one hand: oh my GOD, Danny. But on the OTHER: on my god, Danny. He's never gonna live this one down but that's because if they don't tease him about it, they're gonna get all mopey and sad about it. Just another reminder of their best friend's tragic, mysterious background.

aaa. There are some headcanons I wanna go over (like how when they go on a date, Danny and Valerie have this cute heart to heart where Danny admits that he's not used to being open with people, but he wants to try to be with Valerie because she makes him really happy. He's so shy and almost flustered, and Valerie is so charmed by this side of Danyal Fenton that she's not used to.) but I REALLY wanna think about this in terms of episodic because it was super fun doing it last time, and I really enjoyed it.

If you remember (and you prolly do since you mentioned you read the last ask you sent me several times) I said in the Gregory post that I deleted a (frankly good chunk) of writing that included how i would change the Valerie episodes leading up to the Gregory one, but I deleted it because it was kinda irrelevant to the ask, and admittedly I was getting myself all twisted in knots about it.

But I kinda wanna do that now.

So. If you don't mind I am. Gonna do that. And luckily for me! I found the website I can do. that for free, and have it pulled up! It's the same one I used for the last post to chart out the gregory episode.

So, Shades of Gray! I lowkey want this episode to be like, subtly hinting at the idea that Valerie might develop a crush on Danny first. But ultimately it gets the two of them properly introduced and established with each other, and Red Huntress going.

The episode starts out with Danny being chased by Dash because he got a bad grade in a spelling, obviously if he tried that with Danyal he's gonna get his shit wiped. So! Change! It's Danny heading to his next class, he's texting Sam and Tucker, expertly maneuvering around people in a combination of teen-texting-habit and assassin training awareness. Kinda aware of what's around him, but also not and just trusting instinct.

We meet Valerie when she's showing off a (frankly unflattering) purple polo shirt that costs, AND I QUOTE: "$579, and worth every one of my dad's pennies." to Paulina and Kwan. Girl, this shirt is a few shades off from that NEON "error, image not found" magenta. It looks incredibly unflattering on her considering it's neon-y-ness and the orange skirt and headband she's wearing. Sweetheart, get your damn money back, or at least pick a different pair of pants.

I'm telling you this because I can't resist changing the design. So instead of. that.

She is INSTEAD wearing like, this cute, ruffled, soft pastel purple crop top and some cute jean shorts. Her hair is in like, passion twist braids with little gold cuffs in them. She looks SO cute guys, so cute.

Of course maybe they made it look ugly on purpose because in the show she gets coffee dumped on her 30 seconds later from Danny crashing into Paulina while running from Dash.

I've thought of three different ways this could go, and can't pick which so I'm just gonna write them out and see which one I'm drawn to more.

Kwan, Paulina, and Valerie are standing in the hallway. Not next to a corner but close to one. Danny turns the corner, does not run into them. He briefly looks up from his phone when he hears, they kinda stare at each other, and Danny idly, disinterestedly looks at Valeria, then compliments her with a single; "Nice shirt." Pretty anticlimatic ngl, but it startles the trio a little bit because Danny doesn't often talk to other people outside his circle unless he's in some kind of group project or has to. So for him to compliment Valerie unprompted is startling. This could or could not end with one of them snarkily saying "thanks its worth more than your entire wardrobe" which Danny would take offense to because, lets not kid ourselves, Danyal and Damian Al Ghul were raised as pseudo-princes in the League. Without missing a beat he shoots back: "at least i have a personality beyond being rich." and then disappears down the hallway.

The trio begin walking down the hallway, crash into Danny. HE gets coffee splattered all over him and he immediately reels back, instinctively reverting back to his mother tongue and hissing out arabian curses as coffee drips down the front of his red hoodie and shirt. It's even in his hair. Thankfully the coffee is not as hot as it started out, but it's still uncomfortably warm. He wipes the drink from his eyes, flicks it onto the ground, and hisses out; "watch where you're going!". The trio? Kinda unsure of how to react at first; Danny is unpopular, but not unpopular enough to be worth bullying -- besides, everyone knows he wouldn't tolerate it. But then I think Paulina finds her tongue and says "what did you say?". Danny turns to her and says; "I said; watch where you're going. Need me to say it in Spanish? Mira por donde vas!" He flicks off his hoodie, grumbling in arabic about how he's going to smell like coffee all day, and stalks off. I'm pretty partial to this idea.

Valerie still gets coffee dumped on her. But instead of sic'ing Kwan on him (because she knows that won't work), she just says a few choice words to Danny and stalks off with Paulina and Kwan to go find somewhere to clean off the coffee. Danny approaches her later and gives her a list of cleaning stuff that can get coffee stains out of her shirt. And when she tells him it's made of like, this super specific fabric that needs this really specific stuff to clean, Danny raises his eyebrow at her and says that he knows, and it is a list of stuff that can clean out the stain without damaging the shirt. He says he's not an idiot, and he knows how to recognize X-Fabric when he sees it. Just because I'm fond of pseudo-prince Al Ghul here being a bit of a snob and has an extensive care and hygiene routine. He uses this moisturizer or cologne that makes him smell faintly like sandalwood and vanilla because that is my favorite scent. Tucker jokingly handed him a 13-in-1 once while they were doing a quick supply run with Sam, and Danny literally dropped it like it burned him.

I'm really partial to two and three. So i'm going to get a second opinion. [...] Second one wins! Thank you, Naviii~ <3.

Danny could just intangible the stuff off him, but that would raise questions and also I want him to go the rest of the day stained with coffee. So it stays, and he's in a sour mood for a good chunk of the day. He runs into Cujo when he disappears down an empty hallway, and gets even more irritated when his ghost sense goes off - but hey! If it's Skulker, he can at least pulverize the dude and let off some steam. But nope! It's a puppy!

And Danyal Al Ghul, local ex-member of the world's most deadliest "we speak for the trees, the trees say fuck you" group of environmentalists ever, immediately feels his troubles melt away, and he croons at Cujo. "Oh hello, habibi. Who do you belong to?" And drops down to the ground to let Cujo sniff his hand. Cujo does so, and then starts vying for his attention, and Danny is grinning very wide and very genuinely and is more than happy to give it. "You are a much better surprise than that wretched poacher. Do you have a name, pretty thing?"

Cujo has a collar on, so Danny touches it, lifts the tag, and sees the Axion labs "A" symbol on it. He hums, narrows his eyes, and murmurs "Where have I seen this before?" But before he can flip it around, Cujo then turns monstrous. We cut to the title screen!

I want to say, the next scene is in Axion labs. The way that Damon (Val's dad), Valerie, those two guards, and his boss reacts, it heavily implies that the existence of ghosts have not reached the whole of Amity Park, and that the city itself is still largely unaware of their existence. Considering that Damon's security system doesn't allocate for ghosts, and when Danny crashes at their feet, Valerie literally asks him; "What are you!?" and she seems surprised when tucker later tells her its ghosts, and is even unaware that Danny's parents are ghost hunters.

When Valerie gets coated in dog ecto-slobber, Danny does grin a little under his little half-face balaclava. Because yes, karma! He is petty, and he can't help but flip to his feet and snarkily, smugly say; "I know what I'm not," and as he says this, he leans forward and plucks some of it out of her hair, "Covered in dog slobber." and then he flicks it away.

Before Valerie can retort, Cujo breaks into the lab, and Danyal mutters curses and bounds after him. The lab gets destroyed as per canon, and Damon gets fired.

The garage sale scene happens pretty normally, when Valerie says her little "oh great, word has already oozed down to the bottom of the social grapevine." Danny's response is snarkier than in canon.

"And here Tucker was just offering some simple help to you, you looked like you needed it." He says icily, and Tucker pipes up and says "we all just want to help!" because I don't fully see Danyal being that generous especially to someone being rude to his friends.

Sam dryly says "I don't." and Danny just stays silent, neither confirming nor denying anything. He just raises an eyebrow and turns his eyes to Tucker, who is laughing nervously.

"Well, Danny hasn't said no. So most of us want to help! That's two thirds." And he gestures awkwardly to Danny, who is wearing a red muscle tee hoodie, showing that he's rather lean. "And Danny's the strongest between the three of us, so he could be a big help! There could get a lot more work done."

Valerie is not convinced, as in canon. Although for my Gray Ghost heart she does check out Danny a little bit -- but quickly shakes it off because she's still very deeply entrenched in the status quo. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

Before Danny's ghost sense goes off, I do want him to wander around the yard sale for a moment just to see what's to offer -- collector of trinkets and pretty things, he is. Projecting, I am. Slightly GNC Danny ftw, it is. There's a table of jewelry up for sale that he's drawn over to -- and almost immediately disappointed by. It's pretty, and extravagant and very obviously expensive, that's for sure, but that's not the problem. Valerie sees him looking and marches over to him, still upset that he and his friends are still there.

"Put that down, that stuff is worth more than your own wardrobe." She snaps at him, and tries to snatch an expensive, luxury sapphire necklace from his hands, and is immediately met with an icy glare from Danny as he yanks it away from her fingers.

"Who says I can't afford it?" He says -- and he can't, not really, not with the allowance he gets from the Fentons and not with their funds. However, despite their limited contact, Danny still does meet with his beloved mother. One word from him to her, and she'd ensure he got a hundred of the very same necklace. "You? You can't either, Gray. Not anymore."

Valerie looks embarrassed and furious, but Danny continues, and tosses the necklace to her. She fumbles, but manages to catch it. "I don't want this junk anyways. It's gaudy and too western. I look better in gold."

Now his ghost sense goes off, and he turns away from Valerie. He doesn't run off immediately, lingers long enough to see who the ghost is and what the danger is. And when the ground begins to shake, he grabs onto the table and reaches out on protective instinct to hold onto Valerie before she can fall over.

As you can tell, this is for my gray ghost heart. Although valerie's clothes do still get destroyed by the street water, unfortunately. And Cujo shrinks down to size by the time Valerie makes it over to her dresser to try and grab it.

Danny audibly mutters, "Its that dog again." and hurries over to scruff the thing before it can wander off. Cujo is wagging his tail and immediately, enthusiastically licks his face once he's got him up to eye level. Danny cracks a little smile, "Hello habibi, you're a little troublemaker, aren't you?"

"you know this dog?" Valerie demands, and stomps over as Danny gets Cujo settled into his arms. Sam and Tucker hurry over as well, looking mildly frazzled.

Danny scoffs at her; "Don't be ridiculous. I met him a few days ago-- wait;" and he pauses to check to see if Cujo is a boy, "--ah, yep. Him. -- I met him a few days ago in the hallway after Sanchez dumped her coffee all over me. He was rather friendly, but he ran off before I could see who he belonged to."

Sam leans over to look at Cujo, and wiggles her finger at him; "He's kinda cute, and he likes you."

Dannny has a moment where he wants to boast, of course he does, I'm fantastic with animals. But instead he keeps mum. His smile just kinda softens proudly, and he hoists Cujo into his arms a little better.

The moment is shattered by Valerie, who points accusingly at Cujo. "Whatever it is, get it out of here before it ruins anymore of my stuff!"

Annnd before Danny can do just that, Cujo begins wiggling to get out of his arms and run around. He manages to, with his ghostly strength drag Danny across the lawn before yanking himself out of his arms and knocking them both onto the sidewalk -- scraping Danny's arm in the process -- and running around.

Rather than his leg, Cujo bites Danny's arm -- and has a strong enough grip on it that he unintentionally pierces flesh and causes him to start bleeding -- and begins dragging him. But before they can reach the moving van, Danny gets his fingers wrapped around Cujo's collar, finds some purchase -- even if it means his bare arm is being dragged against the sidewalk, and yanks hard on Cujo's collar with a harsh; "HEEL."

Cujo immediately stops, and sits. Danny honestly wasn't expecting that to work immediately, but it does! And with Cujo still, he keeps one firm hand on the collar and uses his other arm -- which is now painfully road rash'd and bleeding -- to help sit up.

Sam and tucker and Valerie rush over to help. "Oh my god, Danny, are you okay?" only for Danny to hold his bad arm up to stop them from getting closer, and whirling on Cujo to scold him. He's upset enough that he reverts back to Arabic, but Cujo seems to get the point across and wilts.

Danny feels bad, but can't show Cujo any affection unless he wants to accidentally reinforce the behavior. He points to his side, and Cujo obediently goes to sit but his feet. Now he turns to the other three.

"To answer your question." He looks down to his arm and very gently brushes his fingers against the road rash, brushing out the little pebbles stuck in his skin. it stings like a bitch, and he faintly grimaces. Then he inspects the dog bite on his wrist "I'll be fine."

Even Valerie looks worried; "That looks really bad, Fenton. I think you should go to the hospital--"

"No." Danny immediately cuts her off, "No hospital. Mr. and Mrs. Fenton keep a first aid kit at home, I'll just use that."

"And what about the dog?"

"I'll figure something out."

And then they scoot off.

Cafeteria scene goes as canon, nothing much to change there other than the fact that when Valerie sees Danny, his arm is all bandaged up and he's wearing a batman merch t-shirt rather than a muscle tee, she feels a little guilty. A small part of her kinda wants to ask how he is, but the larger part that's still big on the status quo and is still humiliated by being shunned by her friends, just wants to go eat in peace. So she doesn't say anything.

(although i am thinking that if she runs into him again later after the cafeteria scene, she asks him what he did with the ghost dog, and he lies and says Phantom swooped in and took Cujo from him.)

The park scene goes relatively the same as well, at least in the beginning. But instead of Sam and Phantom being all "he's an untrained dog" they're instead all "let's see what training he does have. Maybe it can be refined."

"You're good with animals Danny, and you're the only ghost in the area. You handle it." and then she tosses the dog obedience book at him and wanders off.

Danny doesn't need the dog obedience book, so he tucks it into a pocket dimension in his cape and whistles for Cujo. There's that whole tumble down the hill, that whole chase scene happens.

I do wanna say, I actually really like how inexperienced Valerie is here. Idk maybe it's because I haven't watched a tv show in a long while, but it's nice to see that she's not immediately good at it. She wobbles on the hoverboard, two out of the three disks she threw at Danny missed, and the third only hit him by chance. She's amateurish, and I really appreciate that.

"Let me guess, first day on the job, isn't it?" and he still gets cut by the third disk like in canon. He's not impressed or convinced when she says she's going to take him down -- it's one quick once over that tells him enough.

Wobbly feet, unsteady balance on the board. -- Her first time using it, she's unconfident and doesn't trust her own tech, as if she didn't even make it herself. She's unused to the board.

Improper trigger discipline, and shaky hands on her gun. She's holding it with one hand and far away from her like she's afraid of it going off, despite the fact that she's the one on the other end of it.

Tense all the way up to her shoulders, her voice is full of false bravado. She has no idea what she's doing. Danny's thoroughly unimpressed. At least the Drs. Fenton and Walker (maddie got her doctorate with her maiden name) trust their tech wholeheartedly and treat them as an extension of themself, just as Danny does with his blades. Just as this new ghost hunter does not.

And, of course, the way she goes flying off her board the moment she fires her bazooka. Although Cujo does still come to the rescue, although like in canon, he grabs Danny by the foot. Danny manages to recollect himself though and hoist himself over Cujo's back like he's riding a horse.

This is the biggest scene change and possibly my favorite change. The fakeout makeout scene. Now, let me preface this by saying that I love the fakeout makeout concept. I think it's hilarious, and I think it's even funnier if Danny is actually rather down with the concept because the assassin-undercover part of his brain thinks it's a simple-in-a-clever way in order to brush off suspicion. I think Sam and Tucker both are very down to kiss their very attractive best friend, and whenever it comes up there have been arguments over whose turn it is to kiss Danny.

BUT. I have an image in mind for this scene, so I want Danny to be alone for this. So Cujo takes him to a cluster of trees and bushes where Sam isn't at, and Danny sends him off with a ball as per canon, but rather than get tackled by Sam, he dives up into a tree and transforms back to Al Ghul before Valerie can reach him.

He is reading the Dog Obedience book, and scares the absolute shit out of Valerie. And it's never a bad day to hurt Danny, so little miss firstie over here fires into the trees, and juuuust about skims Danny's arm. The same one that has the road rash and dog bite on it, that he's forcibly prevented himself from rapidly healing because that would arouse suspicion.

"ماذا بحق الجحيم كان ذلك!؟" ("What the hell was that!?")

Valerie knows that voice, and instantly turns ashen. "Oh no." She flies up the tree and finds Danyal sitting snug amongst the larger limbs, the dog obedience book in his lap, and he's hunched slightly and holding onto his burned arm tightly.

"Oh my god, I-- I am so sorry--" she doesn't have the time to be upset (or snarky or mean) about why he's there, considering she just shot him. Danny snaps his head up and glowers furiously at her.

"Wh- why did you do that!?" He stammers over himself, trying to find his english. Part of it is an act, part of it is genuine anger because she could've killed him with that thing. He loathes incompetence, and she has it in buckets. "Watch where you're aiming that, Trigger Finger, you could've killed me!"

Valerie is all flustered and mortified, can't even find it to get angry back. "i- I am so sorry, Fenton. I thought you were something else--"

"Something else!?" Danny yells, "So you blindly shoot?! What is wrong with you!? Don't you know any trigger discipline!?"

Iiit's. a mess? Valerie offers him a lift to the hospital, or at least out of the tree, and Danny snarls at her not to touch him, and that he's not going anywhere with her on that hunk of sheet metal. He tosses the book at her and says to make herself useful and hold that while he gets down. Valerie feels really guilty -- too guilty to protest or be mad about how angry he is with her.

When he gets down from the tree he takes the book back from her, and then asks her how she even knows his name anyways. They've never met before. "Actually, now that I think about it," he narrows his eyes at her, "you sound like someone I know."

And then he reaches for her mask.

Valerie flies back, stammering over herself and briefly forgets to feel guilty in order to feel panicked and indignant, and then just goes "What are you doing!? You're crazy, we've never met before!" And then flies off.

And, before I continue, I will say right now. Danny, as himself, forever and always from then on refers to Red Huntress (or Scarlett Hunt, as I'm thinking of as an alternative) as "Trigger" or "Trigger Finger" respectively. Whenever they run into each other as Scarlett and Danny, he always calls her Trigger and asks if she's killed anyone yet. Valerie feels really bad from then on about hitting him, because where she hit him ends up scarring.

When she's gone, Danny mutters to himself that that sounded like Valerie, and goes ghost to go find Sam and tell her what happened.

Hallway scene stays the same, and -- actually, I was gonna make fun of the fact that Valerie didn't know the Fentons were ghost hunters when it's the whole reason the family is ostracized. But you know what? I can believe it. Kids will follow the crowds' lead. Witch hunts and all that.

"So, Tucker tells me your parents are ghost hunters!"

"Yeah? What else has he told you?"

Before Cujo shows up, they do actually manage to hold some kind of conversation. However, Danny uses the time to go: "Look, if you're planning on getting into ghost hunting, try not being like the hack I met yesterday."

Valerie laughs nervously, "Ah-hah, no of course not! But uh, hack?"

Danny scowls, and twists towards her with his arms crossed -- he's wearing a red hoodie today, and a band tee. -- "Yeah! I met some chick yesterday while at the park, and Little Miss Trigger Finger shot me." He says, "Your weapon should be like an extension of yourself, not something you just use! Trigger Finger was flailing that gun in her hands like it was a ribbon, and incompetence like that will get someone killed. Your weapon -- whether it be a blade or a firearm or a blunt object -- should be as easy to move as curling your fingers, and just as easy to trust. It should not be a stranger, but a part of you. A weapon must know how to use itself if it wants to be of any use to anyone else."

Sam cuts him off with a high pitched, nervous giggle, and wraps her fingers lightly around his shoulders and tugs him back, sliding her arms around the front of his chest like an anchor. "Danny." she hisses at him quietly, and Danny snaps his jaw shut and looks away.

Tucker also laughs uneasily, "Sorry," he says, leaning around Valerie to get her attention, "Dan here uh, gets really passionate about improper weapon handling. It's one of his quirks."

Danny looks away and mutters something under his breath in arabic.

(You know this already, but Sam and Tucker still don't know about Danny's past. But they've heard him talk about weapon mishandling enough times -- and have seen him fight -- to know that the way he talks is more than just theory. He has personal experience with weapons, and has unintentionally before referred to himself as one. But whenever they ask about it, he clams up and denies any sort of involvement.)

Valerie doesn't really know what to say to that, but Danny seems to know a lot about proper weapon discipline. So she might try her chances with getting to know more about it from him later, if she can catch him. She also silently makes note to get herself acquainted to her own tools like Danny was implying.

And then Cujo shows up, and things happen as canon. Oh but wait Tucker lands on Valerie while she's trying to figure out how to open the thermos, and I want to say that she hears him say "I can help you. valerie!" before he lands on her. So her confronting him after she gets out of the basketball hoop, and practically beegs him not to tell Danny about being the same girl who shot him. She really does think his help could be valuable in the long run because of his knowledge on ghosts and weapons.

Lovestruck Tuck of course, agrees. Not without some tentative hemming and going; "I don't know Val, Danny's really clever. He'll figure it out eventually if you don't do something to hide your voice, it's pretty recognizable."

For this episode, her voice stays the same but in the future she'll be working on a voice mod, and until then refuses to speak around Danny if she knows he's present. If she has to talk, then she forcibly tries deepening it.

Anyways things proceed as canon, Danny overhears the boss with Damon say "I know we should've never gotten rid of those guard dogs."

He mutters to himself "Guard dogs? Wait..." and he holds up Cujo, peering at his collar, and finally realizing where he recognizes the symbol on the tag. Immediately his expression darkens, "Oh fuck no, they did not."

Things go as canon, although Danny sneaks in not only to find what Cujo is looking for, but to hack in and get records of their guard dogs to confirm his theory and to steal them -- plus confirmation of termination of said dogs. So he can blackmail the shit out of Axion Labs later. He stays invisible and uses his league training to sneak around, and actually gets the guard dog records and confirmation before he runs into Valerie and they fight. Danny purposely keeps his distance and focuses more on dodging.

"you're a pretty lousy shot" Valerie says when he blasts above her a metal support beam above her.

Danny retorts sharply, "I could say the same." And although she can't see it, he bares his fangs at her. "Or have you forgotten about what you did to the ghost hunters' boy a few days ago?"

(He can be VERY petty)

Which, of course, infuriates and embarrasses Val. Things remain as is, Danny finds the squeaky toy, he tells Valerie he doesn't own the dog -- although he also says that he belongs to the very same Lab that fired her dad -- she refuses his apology, Tucker pretends to get caught by the Axion security lab. Etc etc.

Danny later reveals that he also stole the records about the guard dogs and how Axion Lab wrongfully euthanized all of them in favor of a security system they didn't even end up using, and was planning on anonymously releasing it online so that Axion could face the consequences for their abuse. Tucker has to beg him not to, because then that would reveal that someone else had gotten into the lab that night and would put Valerie's dad in hot water again.

Danny... reluctantly agrees. For now. But he'll be holding onto it, and keeping his eye on Axion Labs. This sort of cruelty will not go unpunished forever, he'll make sure of it.

ending goes as ending does. They go to the dumpty humpty concert, they speculate where Valerie got her suit. Etc etc. At the lunch table I think Valerie stops by Tucker and co's table to talk to Tucker -- they seemed to end on a good note that night -- and she asks Danny how his arm is.

Danny eyes her quietly, and turns his head away. "It'll heal, so long as Trigger Finger stays away from me." and he does see Valerie wilt a little, and kinda feels bad. But also, she fucking shot him. He's lowkey less angry about that tho and more angry about her total weapon incompetence

-------

When its just Tucker -- and ykw, Sam too, who Valerie would know knows she's Red since she was yk, right there next to Tucker when he fell on Valerie -- and Valerie, he tries to reassure her about Danny's apparently grudge against Scarlett Hunt.

"Aw, chin up Val, I'm sure Danny will come around to your alter ego eventually! He just.. needs some time to heal! Literally, because you... shot him."

and when Valerie realizes Sam knows too, Sam points her pen at her and goes: "The only reason I haven't told Danny is because Tucker is also my best friend," she leans into Valerie's space; "But so help me Moses, if you shoot Danny again, I will not hesitate to tell him. And i will, in a heartbeat."

She leans back, crossing her arms; "So you better learn to control your finger, Trigger."

-

Danny having beef with Red Huntress in his civilian form was not actually in the original cards for this episode, but it came to me as I was writing and I could not pass it up. I think it'd be hilarious and also like, a real point of idk conflict for Valerie. Just one more reason she wants to be abetter ghost hunter because otherwise she'll hurt people -- shooting Danny left a mark on her, and she feels really really guilty about it. Especially after finding out it scarred.

And also it's like, objectively hilarious? It's like the Love Square from MLB but its more like a Hate Square instead. Granted Val and Danny don't hate each other but my point still stands! It's there if you squint.

Every single time Danny runs into Scarlett he calls her Trigger and asks her how her aim is, and whether she knows how to use that weapon of hers. Valerie is both very frustrated by his unwillingness to forgive her and very ashamed by the fact that she's frustrated by it. He has every right to be mad at her, she could've seriously hurt him -- and she did -- but still, his animosity is grating sometimes.

Danny does eventually get over her shooting him in his civilian form -- considering she shoots him all the time as a ghost. But what he refuses to get over is the fact that it happened at all and her lack of proper discipline before she decided to jump into the fray.

No no no, that he is still burning furious about. Tucker wasn't kidding when he said that Danny was passionate about proper weapon handling. The fact that Valerie didn't even acquaint herself with her weapons and learn how to use them properly before deciding to hunt down Cujo and Phantom is the thing that keeps his burning "hatred" against Scarlett as Fenton going.

Idk if it's ever actually confirmed that Valerie and Tucker are dating, its kinda implied that they started. But I'm gonna say that they were only in a talking stage (one that Valerie only initiated for her own needs) and after this episode it doesn't go anywhere, but they remain kinda friends. That way, Valerie can show up a few more times prior to Flirting With Disaster and lowkey hang with the gang without Tucker and Valerie actually dating.

So i was actually going to share a few more headcanons too with Gray Ghost, and delve into the "Flirting with Disaster" episode, but this got... really long, and took me all evening to write (curse adhd) so I am. not going to go into that jadlfh. Plus I have to think more about them and come up with more cute headcanons.

Like how Danny calls her affectionate petnames when they're dating/sorta-dating the moment he settles into the relationship and becomes comfortable with it. One morning when he walked into a class that they shared, he smiled at her all warm and fondly said "Good morning, beloved."

And normally that might sound too strong in the fledgling beginning of a relationship, but Danny somehow manages to make it sound super natural and not at all too-much-too-soon.

Literally everyone's jaw dropped in that room. They've never seen Danny act that way, and Valerie somehow manages to invent a new shade of maroon on her dark skin. She does this cute little giggle-snort and waves her hand at him bashfully. Danny looks very endeared.

Paulina turns to Dash and angrily demands to know why he doesn't call her any cute petnames that aren't babe.

Oh and before I forget: As Phantom, Danny calls Scarlett Hunt either "Scar" or "Little Red Riding Hood" (or some variant). It pisses her off, which he does really like doing. Also, compared to how he fights ghosts, he goes remarkably easy on her. He doesn't even unsheathe his sword for her -- which she does eventually notice and gets angry about. She thinks he's doing it to look down on her.

When it's not. She is Squishy Fragile Living Human In A Meat Shell. He is Immortal Ghost With Powers. And A Sword. And A Decade Of Assassin Training. He could kill her a dozen different ways if he didn't hold back like he is, and he doesn't want her dead.

okay okay that's all I've got for now BUT, as a bonus, while I was making those three different scenes for the coffee splash scene, I stopped midway because I got art bunnies for danny for the first time in forever, and went ahead and drew him. So!! Things in Threes Danyal doodle be Upon Ye!

[michelleleewise]

Hi! 😊

Leaving aside evil me, whenever you can, can you write about Loki fallen in love with reader, but he isn't his usual self, he seems lost in his thoughts and reader is all happy, all the time she is sighing, hearing and singing love songs. One day Loki hears a conversation between reader and Wanda where Wanda is asking reader if the way she is acting is because she is in love and reader confirms it, and explain how she can't erase the smile off her face, have butterflies in her stomach when she thinks of him, but she didn't say a name but when she describes how is the person she is in love, Loki misunderstood and now thinks the person in question is the Cap and gets angry but mostly sad. At the end is revealed that readers is actually in love with him.

Sorry if is too long, I just need to feel loved 🥲

Aaaahhhh!!!!! Hiiiiii!!!!!! This has taken me waaaaaaay too long to get to and I'm so sorry!!!!! But I'm here, let's do it!!!!! And thank you so so much for sending this to me @luvlady-writes !!!! 💚

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

Close to You

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: sooooooooo this totally took a nose dive directly into angst-ville.....sorry.....angst to fluff, happy ending, friends to lovers, confession, mild sadness.

Summary: you work in stark tower and have fallen hard for a certain god, but he would never feel the same....would he.....

A/n-umm......not much really.....sorry again it took so long to get to this!!!!!

You quickly grabbed your bag and Wanda's coffee heading to the elevators. Pushing the button you sighed "come on." You said shifting feet, you were already late having slept past your alarm, not wanting to come back to reality from your dreams....the ones of a tall dark asgardian. Your head snapped up as the elevator dinged its arrival "finally." You huffed as the doors slid open making you freeze "ah lady y/n...how are you today?" Loki asked smiling that smile, the one that makes your insides melt "your good...I mean I'm hot....eerr good! I'm good!" You stuttered hearing him laugh. "Well, are you coming?" He asked when you realized you hadn't moved "yes!...yes sorry." You said slowly stepping in as the doors closed.

You slid over to the panel, the scent of mint and snow wafted through the air making you sigh as you pushed the button to your floor before sliding away. "Full day planned?" He asked smiling again...damn his beautiful face..."y..yes, wanda has a few interviews to do and some meet and greets." You said looking at the doors, trying to keep your brain from short circuiting at your proximity "ah I see, I have some of those as well, maybe I will see you there?" He asked fully turning towards you "i...I'd like that." You giggled seeing his smile widen when the elevator sounded again "after you my lady." He said waving you before him. "T..thanks." You said smiling back as him as you walked out. "See you later y/n." He called from behind you "bye Loki." You turned seeing him put his hands in his pockets, his cheeks a slight pink as you turned back making your way to the common room.

"Aahh your here!" Wanda yelled as you walked in "yeah sorry! I overslept." You said handing her her coffee, you had been her assistant for almost a year and you loved it. She was kind, compassionate...you couldn't have asked for a better boss. "Oh no, do you need to take the day off? I can manage." Wanda said sitting on the couch "oh no, I'm fine. It's just..." you trailed off setting your bag down "nothing, it's nothing." You smiled pulling your planner out. "Ok so, today..." you trailed off hearing music coming from down the hall, furrowing your eyebrows you look up seeing Bucky walk in with his phone..

"And just like me, they long to be, close to you...." the song played making you smile "Bucky Barnes, I didn't known you listened to the carptenters." You smiled as he sat down "honestly it's a good song, I wish I had been around for that time period." He said as the song continued. You hummed along, making notes as your thoughts wandered. Would Loki like that song...would he dance with you on the balcony under the stars..."earth to y/n." You heard pulling you back "oh...sorry lost in thought." You said clearing your throat "are you sure your ok?" Wanda asked "yeah! I'm fine." You smiled sliding your planner back in your bag "we should probably go though, lots to do." You said grabbing your keys "ok, but let me know if you want to go." She said standing up "Wanda I'm fine I promise." You said laughing as you headed back towards the elevators.

The entire day had been a mess of interviews, and fans, and autographs and to say you were done was an understatement. You could handle people fine, but the large crowds, the screaming and chanting was starting to grate your nerves. "Ok, you've got one more meet and greet and then we're done for the day." You said flopping into your car, Wanda slumping down in the seat next to you "do we have to?" She asked making you laugh "Tony's orders, besides they love you." You said slapping her knee. "Well atleast I won't be on my own for this one." She said sitting up "what do you mean?" You asked turning down a side street "oh, Loki's with me at this one...didn't I tell you?" She asked as you cleared your throat "n..no, i...you must have spaced it." You stuttered peeking over seeing her staring

"what?" You asked pulling into the garage "your ok with Loki yes? I don't want you to be uncomfortable." She said still staring "what! Yes! I just...I didn't know he was going to be there." You rushed out parking the car "ok, you guys seem to get along so.." She shrugged as you giggled "yeah no he's good...we're good...I mean...yeah." you mumbled hearing her laugh. "He's a little intimidating but he's a big softie." She said opening the door. "I'd like to find out how soft.." you said under your breath "what?" Wanda asked leaning down. "Nothing! Let's get in there." You said quickly grabbing your things you led the way inside wanda following quickly behind you.

You both made your way to the small stage where your table was set up, pulling her set of different colored markers out you nodded as she smiled "ok, I'll be over there if you need me." You said when wanda grabbed your hand "Hey, thank you...I don't think I'd make it through this without you." She said making you smile "you got this." You winked squeezing her hand as you walked towards the backstage area. You leaned against the wall with a sigh hearing they had opened the doors, hundreds of people yelling and hollering resonating through your head "almost over." You said looking out seeing Loki's table watching him sitting stock still, staring down at the table. "What the..." you started when every woman in the city rushed his table, cutting off your view of him.

You pushed off the wall walking back to wanda seeing her smiling at a group of kids dressed as her "Hey, what's up with dark and broody?" You asked as wanda looked over seeing Loki leaned over the table mindlessly signing what was put in front of him "hmm, I don't know. He's been like that for weeks now." She said looking back at the kids. "Really? I hadn't noticed." You said standing up straight "he's pretty tight lipped, maybe ask Thor?" She shrugged continuing with her fans. "I'm gonna head back over there." You said walking back towards the wall. You stood back watching as the crowd began to thin, thanking all the gods it was almost over.

Exhaustion ran through you as you made your way back to the tower, the song bucky was playing earlier wandering back into your mind. "Y/n?" Wanda asked making you look over "hmm?" You hummed looking back to the road "you were humming that song again." She said laughing when your felt your cheeks burn "oh...sorry" you said clearing your throat "no, it's ok...it's just." She started turning herself towards you "do you like someone?" She asked as your eyes shot to hers. "I have no idea what your talking about." You said turning into the garage getting out. "Oh come on y/n, you've been all doe eyes and hearts the last month." She said quicky catching up to you. "Can't I just be happy?" You laughed nervously pushing the button to the elevator "well yes, but I've known you for awhile now....you don't hum." She laughed as you both stepped into the elevator "I think your reading too much into it." You said as the doors opened you quickly walked towards the common room.

"Y/n, aren't we friends?" Wanda asked plopping down on the couch "yes...But..." you were cut off by her raising her hand "well, then you should know you can tell me anything." She said smiling. "You aren't letting this go are you?" You sighed as she shook her head "nnnnope....spill it." She said as you walked around sitting next to her. "Fine...yes i...I like someone." You said sitting back "more then like really." You said as she shifted facing you "tell me tell me tell me." She said hopping up and down. "You can't tell anyone." You said watching her cross her heart. "Ok...he lives here...in the tower." You said as she leaned in "He's tall...handsome...and those muscles..." you trailed off looking at the ceiling. "And his suit...its so...tight." you sighed thinking about all that leather tightly wrapped around his large frame "god what I wouldn't give to get that suit off of him." You sighed hearing her laugh "someone I know i assume?" She asked as you looked over at her when Loki walked out from the hallway

"oh, h..hey Loki." You said quicky sitting up "Ms. Y/l/n." He said not looking at you as he walked across the room, his cold demeanor making your anxiety rise "h..how was your meet and greet?" You asked trying to act casual "fine." He huffed disappearing into the kitchen. "What was that about?" You asked Wanda seeing her shrug "he can be a bit moody sometimes." She said turning back to you "now, you were saying..." She said waving her hand "actually I should go, it's getting pretty late." You said standing up. "Well you'll have to tell me more about this tall mystery man tomorrow." She said standing up with you "fiiine." You laughed as Wanda hugged you "be careful getting home." She said turning to head down the hall "I will." You called after her. You threw your bag over your shoulder looking at the kitchen door, your interaction with Loki eating at you. "I'll just tell him goodnight." You said to yourself taking a deep breath you walked over pushing the door open seeing Loki sitting at the island in the dark, his hands over his face.

"Loki.." you trailed off watching him quicky stand up wiping his face "miss y/l/n." He said not looking at you. You stood in the doorway as he set the kettle on the stove, Silence blanketing the room causing your anxiety to reach a new high at the tension between you "s..so um, I just wanted to say goodnight." You said as Loki went about preparing his cup "is that all?" He snarked still avoiding looking at you "is...are you...is everything ok?" You stuttered taking a step towards him "Why wouldn't it be?" He asked, his voice void of all emotion as he kept his eyes down "you...well you seem upset." You said when his eyes finally met yours, seeing a sadness in them that stabbed your heart

"never better...in fact Thor and I are going to that new bar downtown." He said as the kettle screamed "oh?" You asked taking another step closer "yes, I hear there will be a fair amount of lovely women there as well." He said pulling the kettle from the stove, a pang of jealousy running through at his words "oh...I see." You said taking a step back "maybe I'll finally find someone worthy of my attentions." He said as he looked up at you, his eyes stern causing a chill to run up your spine. "Well um...have fun." You said turning back towards the door "oh I intend to." He said behind you, you closed your eyes taking a deep breath "goodnight Loki." You said, after a few minutes he hadn't answered so you took that as your queue to leave. You made it back to your apartment, your interaction with Loki still running through your mind had you offended him...said something to upset him..."maybe he just had a long day, I'll talk to him tomorrow." You said as you climbed in bed trying to get some rest as the exhaustion of the day finally set in.

You had tried to catch loki the next day, and the day after but everytime you arrived at the tower he was nowhere to be found. As the days went on you began to miss your morning run ins with the god, his smile that made your heart skip, those deep green eyes that seemed to see into your soul. After two weeks you were beginning to get nervous, the last interaction with him boring a hole into your brain deeper and deeper the longer you didn't see him, so you decided to ask wanda one morning as you arrived for work seeing her reading on the couch "Hey, has Loki been around? It feels like forever since I've seen him." You asked setting your bag on the couch "yeah he's been spending alot of time with his assistant." She said not looking up from her book "I thought he didn't have an assistant...said he didn't need one." You said taking a seat across from her "hmm? Oh, a couple of weeks ago he told Tony he wanted one, some lady named jill I think." Wanda said setting her book down

"so, what's the plan today?" She smiled leaning forward "oh, um you have a couple of interviews and..." you trailed off pulling your planner out of your bag and began to flip through it trying to ignore the sting in your eyes he just doesnt want to see you. "Y/n, are you ok?" You heard her ask as you looked up meeting her eyes when you heard a woman laughing down the hall "and then I turned him into a frog." Loki's voice carried through into the room as he walked in looking as perfect as ever in his blue button up and black slacks, his sleeves rolled up, his forearms flexing as he talked to the short brunette next to him "oh my God your so funny." She said grabbing his arm as she cackled making you wince when you looked back at Loki seeing he was looking at you "hi Loki." You said trying to offer a small smile "love, this is Wanda's assistant, miss y/l/n." He said placing his hand on her back "hi, I'm jill." She said smiling at you "Hey." You said waving at her as Loki turned to her again and continued talking.

You took a deep breath, it was now or never "L...loki. I was wondering.." you started when he crossed his arms turning back to you "yes..." he said expectantly "um..could we...i mean could i..." you started looking between him and Jill "could i talk to you for a moment?" You asked hoping he would agree so you could figure out what you had done to upset him "Jill love, what does my schedule look like today?" He asked her not breaking eye contact with you "oh, you have a full day I'm afraid, interviews....a photoshoot...there are a couple of pr meetings, and then.." She trailed off closing her planner "yes, what else darling?" Loki said finally looking at her, the pet name he had given her stinging your chest "our dinner plans...sir." she said smiling.

Loki looked back at you. "You heard the lovely lady, I'm afraid I don't have time today." He said, his tone emotionless as you nodded "right, sorry. Maybe another time." You said looking down to your lap "maybe." He said turning back to her "shall we love?" He asked holding his arm out as she looped hers around his elbow "your so fancy." She giggled as they walked back down the hall. You grabbed your bag stuffing your planner back inside when your eyes met Wanda's "what?" You asked seeing her staring at you. "It's him." She said making you sigh "I don't know what you mean." You said standing up "oh don't give me that! It's him....the one you like." She said standing up with you. "Shh! Someone's going to hear you." You whisper yelled making her laugh "have you told him? You need to tell him" She said walking over to you "you were just in the same room right? You did see those two?" You asked throwing your bag over your shoulder "well yes, but..." you cut her off raising your hand "no buts, if he's happy, then I'm happy for him." You said sternly walking towards the hall "but what about your happiness?" She asked following behind you "I'll be fine." You said pulling your keys out "let's get today over with yeah?" You asked heading to the elevator "ok, whatever you say." She said as you buried your feelings, slapping a smile on your face wishing today was already over.

Another few weeks had gone by and several attempts to catch Loki alone to talk to him but he always eluded you, the times you had caught him he was with Jill and refused to acknowledge you. The weight in your heart becoming unbearable, your mind running into overdrive as you analyzed every interaction you had before he stopped speaking to you. "Hey y/n." You lifted your head seeing Wanda's smile drop "are you ok?" She asked looking you up and down, granted you hadn't put much thought into your appearance...your hair thrown up in a messy bun and grabbing the first outfit you found in your dresser "yeah...fine why?" You snapped as she crossed her arms "Well I was going to ask if you wanted to come to Tony's party tonight but you don't really seem up to it." She said leaning on the counter in the kitchen "why wouldn't I? Sounds like a great time." You snarked closing your planner shoving it in your bag. "Y/n..." Wanda trailed off making you sigh.

"I'm sorry, I just..." you sighed closing your eyes "He...he still won't talk to me and I don't know what I did to upset him and...jill." you said feeling a tear slide down your cheek "do you want me to talk to him?" She asked taking a step towards you "no! No that would just make things worse." You said quickly wiping your face "I think, wanda I think im going to..." you were cut off by the kitchen door opening, Jill walking in in one of Loki's t-shirts and a pair of shorts "Hey ladies. How are you?" She smiled walking towards the fridge. You heart sinking seeing her

"I have to go." You quicky said grabbing your bag "but y/n." Your heard wanda call after you as you pushed through the kitchen door running into something solid, a pair of hands grabbing your arms as you were forced backwards looking up seeing those green eyes staring down at you. "Miss y/l/n." He said, his tone flat as he quickly removed his hands. You felt the burn in your eyes return as you shouldered past him trying to get to the elevator "no need to be rude." You heard Loki call out from behind you as you pushed the button hoping the elevator would get there faster. "Y/n, wait." Wanda yelled as the doors slid open "I'll see you tonight." You said pushing the button, the doors closing right before she made it. You took a deep breath closing your eyes, you knew what you needed to do, as hard as it would be it needed to be done.

You touched up your makeup in the rear view mirror, adding another layer of concealer over the dark rings under your eyes as you got out of your car smoothing your dress. "Alright, I can do this." You said walking towards the elevator. You picked at your nails as you rode up, you were going to miss this, miss wanda...but you knew it's what you needed to do. You heard the bass thumping from the ballroom as the doors opened, walking down the long hallway you walked in seeing the room filled with people you didn't know as you made your way to the bar. You waved the bartender over ordering a drink as nat walked over "Hey how are you?" She asked sitting on a stool next to you "fine...where's Tony?" You asked looking out into the room "over by the stage last time I saw him." She said sipping her drink "ok thanks." You said grabbing your drink as you headed towards the stage. "There you are." You said as you spotted him standing in the corner talking with Steve when someone's elbow came up knocking your drunk out of your hand gasping as the cold liquid splashed down the front of your dress.

"I'm so sorry!" You heard, looking up seeing Jill staring at you "let me grab some napkins." She said quickly rushing off as you pulled the material away from your skin. "What a shame." You heard Loki's deep timber next to you, looking up seeing his arms crossed as he looked down at you "loki." You said gritting you teeth as you glanced over seeing Tony still with Steve. "Ah, making sure the captain is here." Loki said making you look back at him "too bad he isn't wearing your favorite suit." He sneered making your eyebrows furrow "what are you talking about?" You snapped, tired of whatever this was "oh you know very well what I'm talking about, don't deny it." He said taking a step closer "loki, I really don't..." you were cut off by his hand rising "it matters not, he is welcome to you." He said looking you up and down "I wouldn't waste my time on a pathetic mortal anyway." He said looking back towards the bar.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach at his words "a pathetic mortal." You whispered feeling the sting in your eyes return "here, I got these." Jill said as she came back with a handful of napkins "thank you love, but I'm sure she is fine." Loki said grabbing her arm "ah reindeer games...y/n what happened?" Tony asked as he joined the commotion. You looked up at Loki his eyes cold "Tony, I quit." You said grabbing the napkins from Jill "thank you." You said quickly turning back towards the entrance "y/n wait." Tony said as he followed you "why are you quitting?" He asked as you made it to the elevator "I can't do this anymore, I can't be around..." you trailed off looking down the hall seeing Loki walk around the corner watching you "I just can't do this job anymore, I'm sorry Tony." You said as the doors slid open "what am I going to tell wanda?" He asked as you pushed the button "tell her I'm sorry." You said, your eyes meeting Loki's one last time as the doors slid shut.

You made it home, pulling your soiled dress off you jumped in the shower hearing your phone going off making you sigh. You finished cleaning your spilled drink off wrapping a towel around you as you walked out grabbing your phone from the nightstand seeing multiple missed calls and texts from wanda "Hey what happened?" "Was it Loki? I can stab him." You almost laughed at the last one as you typed your response "don't worry about it, I'm sorry wanda but I can't be there anymore, I hope your next assistant is better." You typed as you hit send before quickly turning your phone off unable to deal with her as you grabbed your pajamas, changing before you slipped into bed wishing the whole day was a nightmare.

It had been a week and you had spent the entire time in your pajamas, unable to bring yourself to put actual clothes on. You walked to the kitchen deciding to make some coffee before jumping onto your computer turning in more resumes when there was a knock at your door. Shaking your head you continued your task thinking it was wanda again trying to convince you to come back "I said no wanda." You whispered when another knock came, louder this time "y/n, may I please have a word?" Loki's voice made you freeze as he called out from the other side of the door. "What is he doing here?" You asked yourself peeking out of the kitchen to the front door "I will not go away until you speak to me." He said making you sigh "one second." You called out straightening out your sweatshirt and trying to pull your hair up as you walked to the door, grabbing the handle you took a deep breath as you opened it, seeing Loki in all his glory standing with his hands in his pockets "what do you want?" You asked crossing your arms.

"May I come in?" He asked as you didn't move "it will only take a moment...please." He said shifting back and forth "you have one minute." You said as you stepped aside letting him in before closing the door behing him "time starts now." You said crossing your arms "y/n, I'm an idiot." He said turning to face you "I...wanda had a word with me, well...several if im honest." He said rubbing his palms together "and she informed me a may have been sorely mistaken." He said looking down "about what exactly...thirty seconds." You said looking at the clock

"I heard your conversation that night...with wanda after the interviews." He said as he looked up "I was under the assumption the tall muscular mystery man was....rogers." He said as his eyes met yours "so, I did what I thought was best...since you clearly didn't feel the same way for me, I pushed you away." He said clearing his throat "wait...say that again." You said dropping your hands "that I pushed you away?" He asked taking a step back from you as you walked closer "no, before that." You said still advancing on him "t...that you didn't feel the same." He said running into the back of the couch "you...do you mean to tell me you..." you trailed off looking down "yes y/n, I like you...alot, I have for quite some time." He said making your eyes shoot back to his "your kind, funny, intelligent...how could I not?" He asked smiling "and when I thought your attentions were for rogers i...I felt as though my heart would break in two." He said fidgeting with his fingers

"I can never apologize enough for the things I said to you, how i spoke to you" he continued as you took another step closer, your hands reaching out to grab his when your eyes met, seeing his puffy and red "please believe from the bottom of my heart I am so sorry." He said lacing his fingers with yours "what about jill?" You asked loosening your grip when he squeezed your hands "I have told her that I have met someone, that i...." he trailed off clearing his throat "t..that I love." He said, his eyes searching yours "I understand if I have ruined what may have been, but I was hoping you may find it in your heart to allow me to court you?" He asked squeezing your hands tighter.

"On one condition Loki." You said looking up at him "anything, name it." He said pulling you towards him "loosen your grip." You whispered as he quickly looked down releasing your hands, your fingers a light blue making you laugh "norns I'm so sorry, I sometimes forget myself and..." you cut him off pressing a finger to his lips "it's ok Loki." You said seeing him smile "there is one other thing I must ask." He said rubbing your fingers "what's that?" You asked smiling "I have been told that if I do not bring you back to the tower with me I shall be disemboweled." He said making you laugh "so would you be willing to take up your old post and become Wanda's assistant again?" He asked as you looked up at him, his eyes hopeful "well, you need to be in one piece to go on a date." You laughed "yes that would be preferable." He laughed with you

"ok fine, but no more assuming ok?" You asked as he took a step closer, cupping your cheek in his large hand "no more assuming, I swear it." He said, his eyes darting to your lips and back "may we seal it with a kiss?" He asked licking his lips. "Weeellll, I suppose...." you were cut off by his lips capturing yours, your brain short circuiting as his arm wrapping around your back pulling you closer pressing your chest against his as your hands gripped his large shoulders. He pulled back slightly, your lips chasing his hearing him laugh "there will be plenty of time for that darling." He said pressing his forehead to yours "now, how about you go get ready and I'll take you to dinner." He said smiling at you as you stepped back walking towards your bedroom "and do hurry, If you take too long I may have to come in there." He said making you laugh

"well, I may need help finding my shampoo." You said turning around in your doorway winking. "Well what kind of gentleman would I be if I did not help a lady in distress?" He asked striding towards you "well I was hoping you might be...less then gentle." You purred trailing your fingers up the buttons of his shirt "whatever you...desire." He growled as you grabbed his hand pulling him into the room shutting the door behind him hoping your shower was big enough for two....

@mjsthrillernp @eleniblue @nina25sblog @lokiandbuckysdoll @muddyorbs @crimson25 @kkdvkyya @kaylalikescatsandstuff @chokeanddagger @chantsdemarins @ladymischief11 @jaidenhawke @high-functioning-lokipath @lokidbadguy @buttercupcookies-blog @crzyplantladyvibes @princessdragon23 @lelliefant @stupidthoughtsinwriting @sinsandguilt @emarich7 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kikster606 @edelweissbarnes @kateslife15 @holdmytesseract @pennyl4n3 @huntressandlioness1 @libbybeaz @lokidokieokie @irishhappiness @daggers-and-mischief @dukes2581 @lokislittlemisfit @peachyjinx @ladyofthestayingpower @mysticalmayhem1930 @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet @janineb86 @anukulee @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @aniar4wniak @jotunqueenneith @yelkmelk @lokisgirl96 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @genderfluid-anime-goth

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 12/8

@williamjakespeare asked: One of the recent posts concludes that the circumstances around Vriska's god tiering were "so much worse than anything I thought was going to happen" and I'm curious. What exactly did you think was going to happen?

Back before I knew how God Tier ascension worked, my theory was that Vriska's Quest Bed might grant her access to a special dream moon, and that Tavros's presence there might throw some sort of spanner into the works. I wasn't sure what kind of spanner, and my theories were very vague.

Vriska's a huge taskmaster, and I thought she might have given him an instruction that he was unwilling or unable to carry out. Like, maybe she told him to leave her God Tier Moon, and he was unwilling to abandon her to a fate he didn't understand.

I guess I was right. In the end, she did give him an instruction he couldn't carry out.

Anonymous asked: For the kid who was the most vocal about her 'distaste' for their guardian, having Mom be the reason that Rose snaps is actually very sweet, in a sad way. ~DJ

The above line from Rose implies that she had a lot more affection for her mother than she was letting on.

Their relationship was complicated, but if Rose viewed her as a sister, I think there had to have been some camaraderie between the two. We just never saw it on-panel, because the narrative began on the most stressful day of Mom Lalonde's life.

@elkian asked: So, fun fact about that time John joked about rescuing Rose from the Broodfesther Throes and you were going "yes it's a joke BUT IT'S ALSO SERIOUS JOHN!!!": Hussie's author note for that page is almost verbatim your reaction. Homestuck is as serious as it is silly and typically both at once.

Every time Hussie and I share the same thought, a subtle chill runs down my spine.

@gl1tchypyr0 asked: In regards to the thing about LOWAA potentially corrupting Eridan, itd be a little smart to remember what Sollux said in his conversation with Terezi about a prophet has to go blind to earn their stripes or how an angel earns its wings, Sollux states that 'angels are terrible feathery demons that paradox space uses to usher in the end' and Eridan was actually killing them even if he wasn't Supposed to. If you really think about it I actually kinda find it sad? If he was already a troubled individual Before Sgrub and then was on a planet of 'terrible feathery demons' that whisper prophecies in his earfins for an entire month that he was made to feel he Had to kill, honestly it makes me nervous imagining just how many doomed timelines there are where Eridan snapped far earlier. Not to mention the fact he's also on the Blue Team ie Derse players ie most susceptible to waking up in his sleep and seeing tentacles and eyeballs staring back at him (not that he wouldn't be /used to that/ back on alternia with his job of feeding glybgolyb so Feferi wouldn't have to). Not really defending eridan but just, food for thought kinda? About how LOWAA might have affected him enough for Doc Scratch to bring up such a hypothetical. The idea that Eridan was already pretty bad before the inevitable Sgrub trauma and then LOWAA made thinks /worse/.

Oh, don't get it twisted - Eridan's just as much of tragedy as any of the other trolls. He's certainly written to be less sympathetic, but he didn't deserve to be raised in the Alternian Empire. Just like Vriska and Equius, he could have been a much better person, if only he was raised in a less violent and oppressive culture.

Of course, he could still be an asshole if he was born on Earth - but at least he'd have a chance to be better. Alternia stacks the deck against you in ways that simply aren't fair.

@galaxa-13 asked: It is very satisfying watching you pick apart everything Doc Scratch says without playing his game. Rose wishes she could, but unfortunately she is a child and not as smart as she pretends to be. Usually it's fun to watch people theorize because of what they don't know, so it's extra fun when someone as smart as you doesn't have the pieces I already do. Just chortling to myself, "Oh ho ho, just you wait!" @elkian asked: I may have sent this before but I ADORE your Doc Scratch dissertations. What few liveblogs (and fandom during/after the run) I've followed have other strengths and focuses, so these moments where you stop everything to shred his dialogue to see if fhere's even a GRAIN of truth are novel and absolutely fascinating. I think you've done the most thorough analyses of any 1 of his convos let alone all of them and I'm here for it. Rip that shady motherfucker apart! :D

Despite myself, I am enjoying puzzling out the true meaning of what he says. I've just got to remember that he is fully capable of lying.

I do think, on balance, that there is some hidden meaning to his words - it's just hard to find. His '50% chance of ascending' statement is definitely foreshadowing something, I just can't figure out what. I think it has something to do with the reboot session, but I'm waiting to learn more about the reboot before I really start theorizing about it.

Anonymous asked: In case the 7 Gates haven’t been fully explained yet — the Gates over a player’s house are all either entry (transport to somewhere on their planet) or exit (destination of a gate on the planet of the previous player in the chain). Using John as example: Build to gate 1, which takes him somewhere on LOWAS. Find gate 2 elsewhere on LOWAS, this will take him to the matching gate over Rose’s house — build up to her gate 3, which will lead to somewhere on LOLAR, then find the planet’s gate 4, etc.

Here's my old interpretation of the Gate system, from way back in Act 4. I'm fully in agreement with you about John's path here - the problem is that when you use it to extrapolate Rose's path, things start to fall apart.

See, this ordering method implies that in a four-player chain, your own Seventh Gate is located on the Land preceding yours, rather than your own. This means that Rose's Seventh Gate is the one that got John killed on LOWAS - the one which leads to his Denizen. It additionally implies that John's Seventh Gate should have been on Jade's Land instead. It's all very confusing.

Anonymous asked: Something I love about how this god-tier immortality system is described, however it works, is that "remaining neutral" will PROBABLY keep you alive… but when you think about it, remaining neutral means not making a REAL DIFFERENCE. As a God, if you want to make a difference in the world around you -- good or bad -- you have to be willing to stake your life on it.

True! It's an interesting balancing mechanism, where each God Tier has to decide whether their life is more valuable than their personal agency. Gods who avoid Heroic and Just situations are almost invincible, but they're also completely ineffectual.

I'd obviously try to game the system somehow, but the vague, subjective definitions of Heroic and Just make this a difficult system to game.

@spyril4132 asked: with the reveal of the heroic-just system, there's now a reason you might not want to god tier immediately: sacrificing one of your selves for a heroic cause and then doing what aradia did (but intentionally)

Good point. Although, I'm not sure I'd want to rely on the Quest Slab for my resurrection - at least, not yet. We don't really know the rules are, and how they differ from normal Quest Bed rules.

Anonymous asked: "I don't really care if Paradox Space sanctions his actions - he needs to be taken down, and if that upsets the natural order, then it's time for a new natural order." i think you for sure lean more lifeways on the life/doom player axis lol. oh, the laws of the multiverse say death is inevitable? well, that fucking sucks and i hate it, so i'm gonna wedge myself into the cracks and loopholes and *make* it evitable one day at a goddamn time, life finds a way motherfucker.

Life finds a way, motherfucker!

I actually find both Life and Doom fairly interesting, as Aspects go. I think, at this point, I'm committed to giving one to my kidsona, and the other to my trollsona.

If another Aspect ends up catching my eye, we'll have to start workshopping a Carapaciansona!

Anonymous asked: I think you got it kinda twisted what's going on with Rose. Yes she is slightly corrupted by the Horrorterrors powers/boons and Scratch's… Sheer Existence. But in her mind, she's doing this to Save her session, so if she does go God Tier and gets killed, her death wouldn't be Just, it would probably be Heroic. As she probably would've died tryong to save her session, which would cancel out the corruption from Scratch and Horrorterrors. Either way she still dies, but it's the difference in Why she dies that's important. […]

See, this is the whole problem, isn't it? These terms are incredibly subjective.

I personally think Rose's attempt to save her session is extremely Heroic - but Skaia couldn't possibly approve of her assault on the game, so I don't think it would cancel out her Horrorterror corruption. Sburb itself is probably the last word on what qualifies as a Just death, so I think that's what she'd get tagged as, if she died as a God Tier in the Green Sun's explosion.

I'm also not sure if getting tagged as Heroic would cancel out a Just tag. They're not necessarily opposites - Vriska, for example, is designed to have a controversial alignment, and could easily die in a way that counts as both.

@ben-guy asked: Small correction, you referred to the Alternian empire as "intergalactic" when it only exists within one galaxy as far as I'm aware. Yes, kind of a silly nitpick, and one that I could be wrong about, but I happen to enjoy thinking about the comparative scale of space faring societies lol. If there is a quote contradicting that, I'd like to see it! Pretty sure it's merely a galactic empire tho :)

Nah, that's fair - that's the kind of nitpick I'd point out, too.

Galaxy, singular. I think I parsed the Empire as intergalactic because massively faster-than-light travel is clearly possible in this setting, via time manipulation. We don't actually know if Alternia had access to time manipulation before Sgrub - but Earth seemingly did, so who knows?

@abacusdictator asked: Found your liveblog a few days ago and furiously binged it. Happy to find another Homestuck liveblog! Especially one I can see happen in-progress! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

Thanks - and you're certainly coming in at an interesting time!

Anonymous asked: Scratch "chooses not to lie," but he also has the privileged position of knowing in advance that Rose will misunderstand what the Scratch is, leading to her doing what he wants. If he knew that not lying wouldn't get him what he wants, or even if he didn't know for certain that it would, would he lie? If so, that basically means it's pointless to try to figure out his true meanings, because if you succeed, he'll have retroactively lied about it anyway.

Yeah, this is pretty much my take.

Does it really matter if he 'doesn't lie' if he can foresee all the truths that will mislead you? When you're playing at his level, the actual truth of your statements barely matters.

@skelekingfeddy asked: to my knowledge this has never been commented on by hussie, but i feel like doc scratch doesnt lie in part because he was made from the cueball. its a fortune telling device that predicts the future with remarkable precision and accuracy. you wouldnt expect it to lie, would you? its just that the difference between scratch and the cueball is that he can pick and choose WHICH truths to reveal at which moments. (his penchant for jokes thus probably comes from cal (‘haa haa hee hee hoo hoo’) i feel like him never lying is also a way to feed his own ego. its a self-imposed(!!!!) restriction, and yet despite it he effortlessly plays everyone like fiddles. and he KNOWS it. he CHOOSES never to lie. he VOLUNTARILY hands the people he manipulates an advantage on a goddamn silver platter, and he STILL wins. ‘Isn't it funny how during our various matches, I can tell you what my moves will be in advance, and still win?’ hes so fucking smug. what a pompous dipshit. i love him Anonymous asked: I think that when Scratch say he don't lie, he mean it, and not because of some vilainous valor but out of sheer ego. Scratch is prideful, he love beating other by "playing with cards face up" and tricking them with exact word, he doesn't tell the truth because it's "honorable", he tell the truth because he doesn't need to lie to win.

Also, this. He's just a smug fuck.

Do we know for sure if the cueball is always truthful, actually? Scratch heavily implies it here, but he's only stating it as a hypothetical.

Anonymous asked: Scratch is like a fae, he doesn't lie but you better watch out how he word what he say.

I'd be so screwed against the fae. Not because I couldn't parse their statements, but because I'm only halfway competent with human social customs, let alone weird alien ones.

@manorinthewoods asked: Honestly, I think it's great for his character if Scratch is actually completely dead of emotion inside, possibly even thoughts, and is just near-mindlessly carrying out the necessary parts of his role in the story so that his desired outcome is achieved. He's omniscient, he doesn't need to think. On the other hand, he does seem to have experienced genuine emotion, on occasions… ~LOSS (24/7/24)

A pseudo-omniscient character, mindlessly following the optimal path to their ultimate goal? This smells suspiciously like a Certified Contessa Moment...

Anonymous asked: In the trolls game all the trolls got to see and speak to their lusi after they died because they put them in the sprites. Meaning Gamzees dad coming back wouldn’t get him sober. Ideally Gamzee would be able to interact with his dad way more then he ever had in the past because his dad now had to guid him as his sprite.

Fair point. Although, we know that prototyping tends to affect your personality, and shifts your priorities towards guiding your Player through the game.

Goatsprite's sprite knowledge might have informed him that Gamzee needed to be on Sopor Slime, or game would become unwinnable.

@heliotropopause asked: "Well, no! That’s the problem! The cueball’s omniscience is completely redundant, because the MEOW code already contains an omniscience gene! According to the Scratch loredump, any ‘intelligent’ host for the MEOW code will be granted near-omniscience. Scratch didn’t need the cueball," I think it's worth considering the what exactly he meant with that- it seems perfectly plausible that the teleportation-based powerset established for bequerel would make an intelligent agent very good at observation, either by physically hopping around, or by teleporting light around to see distant places, or by sending out telekinetic "feelers"; we know bec has the capability to separately manipulate individual objects in physical contact from afar. None of this would give him knowledge of the future, or of physically disjoint spaces like the human session, so the cueball is not at all redundant.

It's possible. See, this is another situation where we're really being hampered by our small sample size. We've only seen two First Guardians, and only one of them has been a 'standard' First Guardian, unaltered by HONK. As such, we don't really know how First Guardian clairvoyance is supposed to function.

Another Guardian with human-level intelligence is desperately needed, for science. It's almost enough to make me want the Scratched Guardian of Earth to be made from a human...

@manorinthewoods asked: As an alternative explanation for the double-omniscience problem, one could say that the cueball, in being used to create Scratch, retroactively and conceptually gained his omniscience - so effectively, any use of a cueball allows you to attune to Scratch's awareness (as long as he's alive, perhaps?). This would subsequently imply that First Guardians are all linked to their components - for instance, there would be some link between Bec and all dogs, or specifically Halley. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

As this ask points out, I might just be drawing the causal arrows in the wrong direction. If the cueball is omniscient because of Scratch, rather than the other way round, then there's really only one root cause for his clairvoyance.

I'm not sure why it would work like that, but I do like the idea of Colonel Sassacre running around the early 1900s with a suspiciously powerful dog.

@manorinthewoods asked: The link between 'Skaia's final gate of defense' and 'first to find Alternia' is something I just didn't notice (because I didn't really pay attention to the words and botched my experience by not watching the Flashes), but it would imply, to me, that the gates run in reverse order, Skaia to World - first meteor in, last meteor out. This would mean that the moon which dropped on Jade was the last meteor to hit […]Skaia. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

Hey, good catch!

Jade's meteor was the last to arrive on Earth. By this logic, wouldn't it have been the first thing to leave the session, rather than the last?

That makes a sort of sense, actually. A meteor this enormous would dwarf the entire Incipisphere, so the game would probably want it out of the picture as soon as possible.

@manorinthewoods asked: You seem to have run with the interpretation that all First Guardians run on the same fundamental genetic code, identical to MEOW but using different letters. Not really how I thought of it - I interpret that every FG's code is different, although I also didn't think too hard about the FGs. No reason that they'd necessarily all have to have the same genetic code - after all, Bec's a dog and Scratch's a Scratch. You'd only really need a single gene to code for Green Sun powers… ~LOSS (23/7/24)

It does say they share a genetic sequence, rather than an entire genome. Becquerel presumably contains some dog DNA - the 'host' - which is absent in Scratch, so their genome can't be identical.

Unlike Becquerel, Scratch's hosts were entirely synthetic. They didn't have DNA - which, to me, implies that his entire genome is just an amalgamation of the BR8K H34DS T1CK T0CK HONK sequences. His DNA is just the First Guardian sequence, plus whatever is in HONK.

...what the hell is in HONK, then? If it's DNA, it has to come from some living thing, and I have a horrible feeling that Gamzee spliced his own DNA into the sequence. Why else would he call it HONK?

@skelekingfeddy asked: ‘…the fucking bow-tie! He’s wearing Cal’s Alternian clothes! The proof’s been staring us in the face this entire time, and we were none the wiser!’ look at what regular cal is wearing underneath his blue ‘CAL’ shirt :)

My guy's been pulling the long con.

@morganwick asked: "#but now that i have an antimatter pellet I can feed it to my bees. they can create nuclear waste honey without all the fission rigmarole" Minecraft, Sollux style. (Or maybe Minecraft, Problem Sleuth style?)

Sollux would be a Productive Bees specialist, wouldn't he? That, alongside every computer mod in existence.

@elkian asked: Sorry if I'm the 80th person to mention this but Vriska's 8r8k could also refer to the act of shooting the cue ball at the group of pool balls at the start of a game, known as a "break". @ben-guy asked: Fun fact: In pool terms, the "8r8k" actually refers to the opening shot that sends all the balls flying everywhere. Additional fun fact: The game of pool has a history of being used as a metaphor for causality, which lends some interesting metaphorical weight to Doc Scratch as a cue ball.

Oh, that's true - pool balls are often used as an analogy when talking about causality. Surprising that that's never occurred to me before.

I like to think that when the Felt storm a rival gang's lair as a group, they call their maneuver The Break.

@manorinthewoods asked: Oh my god, Aradia uses Jack to go to the Green Sun. That's such a cool detail. It's so fast, I didn't even see it. To be fair, although the timing is ridiculously impressive, Aradia is both a god and specifically a god of time. Although it's never stated, perfect timing is an obvious power for Time God Tiers to have, which does mean that Aradia would be a half-Flechette. ~LOSS (18/7/24)

And Kanaya's a fashion designer, too. Aradia x Kanaya when?

Anonymous asked: Hey, unfortunately the reqs list link seems to be janked out on my mobile client so I hope this is ok but if you haven't already heard of it I highly highly reccomend Jon Bois' 17776: What Football Will Look Like In the Future It's about football in the same sort of way that homestuck is about video games

Love that story - and I still have to read the sequel, actually!

Anonymous asked: Forwarding another question from the person without a Tumblr account: ~DJ. [I think the change in Equis and Nepeta's behavior is explained by "being together and solving problems together for a long time was great for Equius' and Nepeta's relationship" and "the destruction of Alternia helped Equius realize some facets of Alternian culture he believed where false" (because unlike Eridan he is able to change his mind about stuff like this). - RM]

I really want to see what Equius and Nepeta got up to for a month, as well as all the other trolls. It'd be great to get an 'untold stories of Homestuck' anthology at some point - and hopefully, that's something we'll see in some of Homestuck's tie-in media.

Anonymous asked: I’ve been thinking about Bec prototyping himself and I think I’ve got an answer that works for me - not necessarily the whole answer or the only answer, but I think it’s got something. Basically, Bec knows he can’t / shouldn’t get rid of the meteor entirely (he came down in a meteor that built the frog ruins, so even if we’re just going off what he’s experienced we can say that he probably on some level understands that these meteors landing is important) but he also understands he doesn’t have the type of power or the finesse with that power to only delay it until Jade can take the shot. After all, he could’ve just teleported the living room junk to a different part of the house, but he sent it into deep space because his doggy brain can only deal in absolutes when it comes to perceived danger to his best friend, and the only power we’ve seen First Guardians use (to my recollection) that would in any way help with slowing the meteor is teleportation. He can’t reliably teleport it back only far enough that it will keep falling, but won’t yet land, and he doesn’t have anything else at his disposal - except becoming a sprite, who we’ve seen use beam attacks, which allows Bec to push the meteor back as a delaying measure. Don’t know if he knew it would help so specifically, but even so, I can see Bec understanding it as the only option he has that isn’t either ‘send thing as far away as possible’ or ‘let thing squish most beloved person’. I do think the weakest parts of this theory are What Bec Understands, but puzzling through that devilbeast’s thoughts is hardly a new impossibility. If nothing else, we can all understand that he did this to save Jade, because he loves her, and we love him for that. -Megido (am a new anon, just spent the past couple days catching up and have enjoyed this liveblog immensely)

I think this theory is a good one, and Hussie's comments support it.

The meteor needed to be destroyed in a very specific way for the timeline to retain its integrity, and Bec should instinctively know that, born from Sburb as he is.

Anonymous asked: There are three lenses I think you can view troll romance through: the Xenopsychology lens, the Propaganda lens, and the Parody lens. The Xenopsychology lens is that trolls do in fact experience alien emotions which cannot be felt by humans. It's not just that troll society chooses to categorize the same types of feelings and relationships that humans have differently; these are genuinely unique and original emotions, like a new color that a human couldn't imagine. Describing kismesissitude as hatemance or rivalry or abuse, or moirallegiance as bromance or besties or queer platonic partnership, or auspisticism as third wheeling or mom friending or refereeing are all fundamentally incorrect, because there is no human analogue. You can take this a step further and say that matespritship is also fundamentally different from human romance, even if it appears similar. Therefore all attempts to analyze or write troll romance should be forays into xenofiction, attempting to understand things within a nonhuman framework. The Propaganda lens is that actually troll emotions aren't really any different than human ones, but the quadrant system benefits the hemocasteist militaristic empire by keeping trolls divided enough to become either fucked up killers or submissive victims by the time they reach maturity, but have the minimum support structure needed to actually reach maturity. Kismesissitude is fundamentally unhealthy, auspisticism serves as a counterbalance to keep everyone from killing each other, and moirallegiance serves to prevent trolls from having multiple close friendships or from being fully open with their matesprit by arbitrarily sequestering who it’s appropriate to have certain positive interactions with. None of this is really romance except the one that’s analogous to human romance, but trolls are raised to buy into the system under threat of death. It’s hard to form community and contemplate uprising if everyone confines the meaningful relationships in their life to like 4-5 other people, half of which are based on negative interactions. Also it’s a commentary on how human rules about love and relationships and where the platonic ends and romantic or sexual starts are socially enforced rather than wholly natural and can be arbitrary and unhealthy. Anonymous asked: The Parody lens is that this is all Hussie making fun of fandom shipping tropes. All sufficiently devoted rivalries are actually romantic love. All sufficiently strong friendships are actually romantic love. These two are so hopelessly oblivious to the fact that they actually want to get with the guy they hate, or that the other person they think just wants to be friends actually feels the same way, they need a third party to push them together. (Okay this one doesn’t work because auspisticism seems to basically be the opposite of that? Maybe auspisticism is supposed to be like, contrived elimination of competing romantic options to assure an OTP. Idk if anyone really knows what auspisticism is supposed to be, least of all Hussie.) Also because this was early 2010’s Hussie, there’s maybe a certain level on which trolls being societally obliged to polyamory and bisexuality is also making fun of shippers, although if it was I think Hussie turned around pretty quickly to actually being cool about it. Much like how light is a wave, and a particle, and a ray, all of these are true at different times. This is because the nature of Hussie's writing is that even when things are serious business, they are also jokes. And this is also why the Homestuck fandom will never agree on the correct way to understand and depict the quadrants.

Great breakdown. As you could probably predict, I lean a lot more towards the Propaganda lens, with a healthy dose of Parody mixed in.

The Xenopsychology lens isn't necessarily untrue - it's just that, as I've discussed before, the trolls read as extremely human to me. I honestly believe that if you raised a human on Alternia, they'd probably be compelled to form the same quadrants as everyone else.

I once got an ask stating that, according to Hussie, each of the quadrants are meant to be exaggerated versions of human relationship dynamics. I'd really like to check out that full quote, so if anyone's got a link, send it my way!

[bakiuwu]

This chapter is fucjing me up bad, he started off the convo, bringing up how his abilities caught up to his body. It's like he was trying to impress yujiro. Like a kid trying to show off to their parent, then for yujiro to acknowledge him, cause he's able to tell by how he holds himself. Then, to tell him it's not perfect, only to follow it up with "but you're getting there"......I can't do this.

And look how he looks at him......omg, it like he's shocked that yujiro sees his growth......I can't do this

It is so werid seeing yujiro being.....kind? to Jack epically since after what happen between the two of them after baki and Jack's fight, and even after that, he doesn't seem to have anything to say to him or about him. Especially during the pickle arc, where he calls jack a pathetic loser along with evryone else, when everyone broke in to meet pickle( he didnt even bat an eye at him)

Yujiro acts like he only has one child and that child being baki. Even when Tokugawa brings up retsu,katsumi, and Jack's fight with pickle, saying how he doesn't see how baki could win if thoes 3 lost to pickl. Yujiro responded saying "thoes 3 have nothing to do with baki," then saying baki has his blood and that he's a Hanma. Then, when Tokugawa says, (Jack also has your blood. He just brushed it off saying "hes not pure." So, seeing him be so........normal to him while showing dislikement towards him is crazy

Yujiro brings up a quote from Musashi: "In Confrontation, you have to postion yourself above your enemy Musashi". He brings up how Jack getting taller is a shortcut of being over his enemies

look at his expression. He looks hurt. Even tho he hates yujiro, he still cares about his opinion. For him to repeat what yujiro said, then to ask, "Do you dislike it?" He sounds like a kid, a kid who cares deeply about his parent opinion, a kid who doesn't want to disappoint his father.....his facial expression....his body language. It looks like he slowed down a bit while walking like he needed a minute to register what yujiro just said to him.

It's not far off to say Jack cares about yujiro opinions about him to some degree. When Jack lost to pickle for a second time, he could only think of the last words yujiro spoke to him

"Resonate in his heart" i remember reading tha for the first time and wanting to die omg, but seeing him reacted like this isn't surprising, it's very clear how effective yujiros' words are towards him, and how even if trys to not care about yujiro opinion of him, a part of him deeply cares. Every child wants the approval of their parents even if they hate them.

After Jack asks him if he dislikes it, yujiro says, "I can't bring myself to" which made me threw myself against the wall.....LIKE I JUST CANT AND WHATS MAKES THIS WORST...

IS JACK FACE,HE WAS PROBABLY WAITING FOR YUJIRO TO RIP INTO HIM ABOUT HIM GETTING TALLER AND HIS WHOLE FIGHTING STLYE OVER ALL BUT NO

Yujiro beings to.....praise Jack......omfg itagaki I swear to go-, saying that what's he's doing isn't easy, how he dealt with humiliation and pain. HOW HE IS THE ONLY MAN WHO HAVE EVER STEP HIS FOOT INTO THE TURE WORLD OF BITTING, THIS IS SO BITTERSWEET BUT FINALLY HES GETTING HIS FOLLOWERS HATE THAG YUJIRO IS THE ONE GIVING HIM PRIASE.....but for him to say he has a rare purity.....oh I'm sick....like.....WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME

..........this panel killed me......its so......idk even know man, the way yujiro looks at Jack cause he stop walking but the way hes looking at him......his eyes are so soft......, then Jack....my baby Jack, my sweet baby......I can tell that he's trying to keep his composure.......the way he's noting even looking at yujiro, cause he knows of he looks at him.....he'll break out In tears.....oh my God and what says "....thats the first time....you've ever complimented me".........itagaki when I catch you......ow

Idk why, but him saying that really fucks my heart so bad......i dont even know what to say I'm so fucking sad right now. No one ever gives itagaki credit for how good of a writer he is, mans is able to yank your heart strings out if he wants, This is probably my favorite chapter....the mood of it is so....calm and idk, but If this was able to fuck me up bad, just imagine how I'm be when more Jack lore come out

But once again, I'm just rambling my ass off . Also, God, im so dramatic😭

[kurisus]

Noragami: Final Chapter thoughts

For the last time :') I've been making these for roughly half the manga's runtime, both in chapter count and years. Which is wild to think, but anyway, spoilers under the cut. One final time.

I really spent the first half of this chapter with bated breath alternating between being relieved that Hiyori is okay and grew up to be a doctor and everything, and stressed about where Yato was and where her memories were. Then Yato showed up, and I think I burst into tears out of hysterics. They really got me, I thought he was gone.

That aside, it was an excellent chapter. I was right when I said that this would just be an epilogue and the true suffering was over, but god. god. I'm relieved they gave me that open ending and the chapter was mostly good old-fashioned Noragami silliness. With the expected gut punches.

It's probably a good thing that Yuka never got to reunite with her brother, but at least knows that he's resting in peace. That he was given a proper burial by someone who, at the time, barely knew him but wanted to make things right anyway. Great now I'm crying again.

Hiyori's pocket with the little capyper keychain she bought forever ago. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Yato's CPR being so intense it cracked Hiyori's ribs. god he was so desperate to save her. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

HER TOUCHING HER LIPS WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Fujisaki getting nostalgic seeing tall grass (as we know from the omake is called kaya) was weirdly touching. Though Father has faded, Kaya is the one that is still remembered. We never got to learn his real name, and while I am still curious about it, I can see the purpose--by not knowing his name, we the readers don't give him a lifeline.

That's not the only fourth wall lean in the final chapter. There was also Yato being able to save himself by becoming a meme, much like how the fandom and Adachitoka have memed on him for years as well.

Back to the chapter, it looks like Father's consciousness had always been lurking alongside Fujisaki's, maybe making him do things from time to time, which is really weird and creepy. Maybe he was dormant until the Yomi arc, but either way he's been doing this to a dozen other guys over the centuries. I'm glad the cycle was broken.

It's hilarious that Fujisaki tries to ask Hiyori out and she's just like haha not interested coo phone be upon ye.

I'm so glad the cherry blossom party has become an annual tradition with even more gods invited to the party. I'm also so glad that Yato refuses to release Kazuma and Bishamon apparently makes it a point to bully him about this whenever she sees him. But also, Kazuma doesn't seem to want to be released. He's just like yeah whatever man I'm glad you saved us. Cheers.

Side note, Kazuma's new glasses look a lot like the ones he was wearing in that 100 years ago flashback of him and Bishamon, around chapter 68 or 69 I think?

So we also get to see the aftermath of what happened to Yukine--he still transforms into a wolf every now and then, because much like how Nora transforms into a snakelike creature whenever she loses control of her emotions, his form is a wolf, and unlike Nora he's always been very emotional. So the nightmares come out and Yato's left with a giant wolf thrashing around in their shared living space lol, but at least his dad is there to hug him :')

WAIT STOP PAUSE EVERYTHING IT LOOKS LIKE THEY SHARE A BED NOW. I JUST COLLAPSED INTO A BALL.

AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH

The panel of Yato hugging him made me lose it again. THEY'RE SOOOOOOOO.

So we never did get to find out what happened to Yukine's father--but as I pointed out in the reread I did during December, I don't think it matters. Yukine wasn't going to exact revenge on him anyway because he's not the kind of person to do so.

The page of Nora reading Hiyori's diary also made me so sad. Hiyori's right--she probably did have parents who loved her, but she never got to meet them. One thing I noticed throughout this manga is shinki habitually chasing something relating to their pasts. Yukine craves a good relationship with a father figure, Kazuma is obsessed with Bishamon because he missed out on marrying a girl he loved, Daikoku acts like a dad to every child he meets because he died before having his own kids, and like Yukine, Hiiro craves the parental love she never had. And as Hiyori pointed out, being given a name by Father was like being given life.

Since we didn't get to see what became of her name situation, but Yukine still bears the Hagusa name, she must still have Mizuchi. If her master is gone, can she still draw borderlines? Does she hang around with Yato and Yukine still? Adachitoka didn't say Kofuku DIDN'T name her, so...

The way Hiyori remembered Yato because of his scent had me SOBBING, yall. She didn't forget, but she did solve her problem and it was solved by people, just like they've been saying throughout the manga. But now, they can be together again. Yato was away from her for some years, and maybe he'll leave for several more (it's been a repeated thing in the manga that he'll insist he has to stay away for her own good), but the point is that even if it's been years and years, she'll always remember him. It's open-ended, but that just means it can be my preferred ending of Hiyori not forgetting but choosing to distance herself. She'll meet up with Yato and Yukine every once in a while living her own, separate, fulfilling life. They've been watching over her all these years anyway.

And so, that brings us to the close. It's as happy an ending as we could have possibly gotten, and above all else, I'm relieved. I've been saying for...years, probably, that I want an open ending, but I really thought it was off the table with recent events.

Final hangups are the same as they were in my final reread (tagged under #Noragami reread on my blog), so I won't repeat them, but the bottom line is that I got everything I wanted out of this ending--except maybe a trio hug? But that interior illustration of the four of them, all smiling and happy, Yato's arm around his sister, made up for that. I kind of wish there was a Yatori kiss for real, but the panel of her touching her lips also assuaged that.

Anyway, I'm not sure what other manga would/will make me unhinged enough to type up monthly thoughts posts for years, but I'll be tuned in to whatever new Adachitoka has coming up. Whether it's a full series, a short series, or just a oneshot, I'll be reading every word. I'm also looking forward to getting the final volume once it releases here, and praying for an artbook announcement.

Thank you for reading! I have some posts to make, some projects to plan, and I'll be diving into the tag once more for old times' sake. This won't be the last of me!

[veeepawoon]

Some theories about Compress' character and past

SPOILERS AHEAD

.

.

.

.

.

.

The end of the manga is near, he was shown looking particularly sad in the panel with Geten. If you think about that it's kinda weird that he has that expression when he's usually sarcastic and arrogant even in bad situations.

I know that he wore the mask during 99.9% of the manga but idk, I don't think he has ever shown that much emotion. C'mon look at him, he looks like a small puppy who didn't get his treat😭

I have this theory that he is actually a sad person with a sad past and "hides it" behind his sarcastic villain persona, the "mask" metaphorically speaking.

THAT'S WHAT THE MASK IS

The scene in the anime where his dad talks to him, telling how "the blood of bla flows bla" makes canon the fact that he was born just for the sake of keeping the "bloodline", making him a villain since he was a kid, not like Shig, Dabi or Toga who were traumatized.

So then why does he say this to Deku? Something about "choosing your future" as you want to... while he is actually the one who didn't have many options.

Also we all know he is an ex - entertainer

And how he loves magic and was poor af. Maybe he really only had his father and maybe he died when he was young, making Atsuhiro a young teen/man who lives by himself in the streets. That would also explain him being responsible, mature and more serious than the others. He had more experience, apart from being 32.

I think he didn't want to be a villain in the first place.

That's why he says to the younger people to follow the path they want to, not the one the others told them to.

Or maybe it's just his rebellious nature, he is still a villain after all.

But I like to think that his dream, the path he wanted to follow was being a magician.

To add something else to the theory there's also some scenes where he says that he doesn't really like violence and doesn't steal if it's not a necessity.

Now I don't want to search for every one of them cuz I'm lazy but this one sums up what I just said.

Oh and also when he says this to Bakugo

So idk I hope we'll get a better description of his past because "I'm the great great grandson of Harima" doesn't explain anything tbh👍

Also I still didn't get what Harima's goal has to do with Shig's one... God...Compress is so badly written compared to the other villains😭

[makeste]

BnHA Volume 35 - A Brief Reaction Journey

hello! so as mentioned in my last post, I’ve started catching up with the BnHA manga again FINALLY after almost two years, and have made it through a fair number of chapters so far! and since I’m not sure how long it will take me to actually post the corresponding liveblogs, I figured I’d make a couple of posts in the meantime to sort of preview my reaction journey thus far with some good old-fashioned OUT-OF-CONTEXT BULLET POINTS taken from my ramblings. originally I was going to make a single post for all 25 chapters I’ve read so far (up to 367), but I quickly realized that was waaaaay too ambitious lol. so for now it’s just this one, and I’ll put up the vol. 36 post probably tomorrow afternoon.

spoiler warning: just fyi, this post will obviously feature spoilers for chapters 342-350*, BUT it will also include some stray spoilers from chapters 362 and 403 as well, so just a heads up for that if you aren’t fully caught up!

*chapters 340 and 341 are not included because I've already posted full reaction posts for each one here and here, respectively.

Chapter 342

Endeavor being taller than Jeanist just feels so WRONG to me regardless of whether or not it is factually accurate. does this mean All Might is also taller than Jeanist?? I don’t want to live in a world where Best Jeanist has secretly been a perfectly normal sized person this entire time. someone please lie to me and tell me that he is tall

many thanks to Kacchan for inserting this small bit of levity into this scene which was otherwise well on its way to sending me into a SPIRAL OF FEELINGS, and in fact still is whenever I look at that panel of Deku with Eri and Kouta, and also that GODDAMN HUG WHERE HE AND INKO ARE BOTH CLEARLY AND PAINFULLY AWARE THAT THEY MIGHT NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN, AND IN THAT MOMENT THEY’RE JUST TRYING TO HOLD THE OTHER AS TIGHTLY AS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE, AND SHE’S PRAYING TO WHATEVER DEITY IS OUT THERE THAT HE’LL COME BACK SAFE AND WHOLE, AND HE’S PRAYING THAT HIS MOM WILL BE ALL RIGHT EVEN IF HE DOESN’T COME BACK, AND NOT ALLOWING HIMSELF TO THINK ABOUT HOW MUCH HE ALREADY MISSES HER, BECAUSE HE CAN’T THINK LIKE THAT ANY MORE, BECAUSE THIS BOY IS FULLY GROWN NOW BECAUSE HE HAD TO BE, BECAUSE HE HAD NO CHOICE, AND I’M BOTH SO PROUD AND SO FUCKING SAD ABOUT IT AND I JUST NEED A MINUTE HERE ACTUALLY, OKAY!! OR FIVE MINUTES!!

LMAO WHAT AN AUSPICIOUS AND NOT-AT-ALL OMINOUSLY FOREBODING NAME. “hmmm what should we name our new class 1-A fortress?” “hmm well I was thinking maybe Troy, after the legendary city with the famously impenetrable walls, which to the best of my knowledge were never breached, or at least that’s what I assume since I never finished reading The Iliad! :) :) :) ...wait, why are you all looking at me like that. they didn’t actually breach them, right? guys? what happened to Troy? GUYS?”

I’m actually so proud of Deku because he’s come such a long way from the days when the mere CONCEPT of even TALKING to a girl was enough to floor him lol. but also I’m legit cracking up at he way he tried to segue into random small talk in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse. gotta be smooth about it!! casual!! you can tell how casual they are because both of them are suddenly struck by the inexplicable urge to fuss with their hair!!

Horikoshi really said “FUCK YOUR SQUADS!! ...but if we had a Todosquad this is who would be in it I guess”

my god. between this and the OchaDeku conversation the villains truly do not stand a chance do they? and they don’t even know how screwed they are yet. REDEMPTION IS COMING!! IT’S KNOCKING ON THE DOOR, TRICK OR TREAT, Y’ALL READY FOR THIS

Chapter 343

so we’re opening with everyone’s favorite Guy With An Old Wad Of Chewing Gum For A Face, AFO!

did this son of a bitch kill Nao’s dad and steal his sexy lie-detector quirk??

sob AFO is all “can I have your son’s cell phone number please” and they’re all “SURE”

bonsoir little Yuuga

do. ...do you not actually know. was this meeting not prearranged. “why are you here Aoyama?” “why are you here, Deku?” truly, why are any of us here??

I’m sitting here trying to play the “guess which parts of this dialogue are real vs fake” game and coming up completely stumped on every single sentence

so Yuuga’s all “can you believe that even though the city of Musutafu is basically down to just U.A., a Dollar Tree, a couple of crumbling park benches, and one very determined Starbucks, we somehow still have functioning courts and lawyers?” I actually can’t believe that at all tbh. you’re telling me “it’s the fucking apocalypse” is still not a good enough excuse to get out of jury duty

damn, Aoyama out here with the trash talk and the ON YOUR LEFT?!

MONOMA??!?!?!?!

Chapter 344

“Eraser’s” plan, indeed. you dare say that right to Kaminari’s face

SHINSOU!!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?

HEYA YOURSELF YOU HANDSOME KNAVE!! LOOK AT YOU!! fucking loving the costume my dude! pretty please tell us your hero name to go along with it. is it MindCraft. I think your hero name should be MindCraft. don’t look at me like that Shinsou we need more punny hero names in the world

“yes well you see, I couldn’t do it, so I learned how to do it.” great story Shinsou

the way he’s rubbing the back of his neck there. are we gonna get some real Monoma character development at long last. feels like it’s long overdue and I am thrilled. he’s such a great character and I feel like we’ve only barely scratched the surface of who he actually is as a person and as a hero

THE UNEXPECTED VLAD KING MENTORSHIP WITH THE ARM AROUND THE SHOULDERS?? he really needed that support. outwardly he’s always made a big show of wanting his turn in the spotlight and begrudging class A for stealing the scene at every turn. but how much of that is really just an act. some of it? most of it? maybe even close to all of it? because right now he suddenly seems so small and young here and really wishing he wasn’t in this unenviable position of being one of the many World’s Last Hopes who are all way too fucking young

did Mirko’s giant robot hand just grow into an EVEN GIANTER giant robot hand??

long beautiful flowing mermaid hair. sorry what was I saying I kind of spaced out there for a sec

YES, AFO, ALL OF THIS TO SPLIT YOU UP YOU STUPID MUSH HEAD. MAYBE IF YOU EVER ACTUALLY FINISHED A MANGA IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE YOU’D KNOW HOW A FINAL BATTLE IS SUPPOSED TO BE CONSTRUCTED. YOU MOLDY AVOCADO

Chapter 345

“no you don’t understand, we have so many sixteen-year-olds whose coattails we’re all hanging onto. we have sixteen-year-olds who can take over people’s minds. sixteen-year-olds who can create portals to warp you halfway around the world in an instant. and let’s not forget the sixteen-year-olds who can act their damn asses off. we have the best sixteen-year-olds in the world. our sixteen-year-olds are so much better than yours you fucking losers”

Deku I swear. if I’m about to discover that the reason you weren’t there to stop Kacchan from being literally, actually, canonically murdered is because your distracted ass got yoinked into the void by some no-name villain chucklefuck, I’m gonna...

don’t listen to him Aoyama you were magnificent. you were my favorite in all of the stage plays

BUT IS PHASE TWO SUPPOSED TO INVOLVE DEKU IN ANY WAY THOUGH??? HELLO??? IS ANYONE LISTENING TO ME??? I’M FROM THE FUTURE AND THIS IS URGENT, PLEASE

“I fucked up Ochako, I fucked up so bad” omfg Deku

she doesn’t want to hurt you Deku she just wants to shower you in love. in her own special way. by stabbing you a lot

anyway have fun on this... tropical island??? I guess?? Kacchan will just have to hold down the fort in the meantime. which I’m sure will go absolutely fine

Chapter 346

“th-th-this is really bad, right?” yes Tamaki, yes it is. you’re stuck here on the Super Mega Ultra Radical Gnarly Cracked-Out Wonder Stage with Shigaraki Fucking Tomura and at least two of you are about to die and I’M NOT OKAY

so now we’re also getting this hilarious insight into the inner workings of the Mega Ultra Tremendous Stupendous Incredible Sky Coffin and it is truly, truly phenomenal

Horikoshi stop taking my sarcastic jibes and owning them completely challenge!! all the best sixteen-year-olds. all the finest greatest Hyper Ultra Sparkle Glimmer Wonder Battle Stages

this is genuinely one of the boldest lampshading efforts I have ever seen in fiction you guys

“yes, we acknowledge that this does indeed seem impossible to have pulled off, BUT have you considered that, fucking quirks though???? AND THAT THEY ARE, AS THE KIDS SAY, WILD??”

Chapter 347

lmao they’re shouting at Monoma accusingly and he’s all “I’M HAVEN’T BLINKED AT ALL YOU GUYS I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU”

don’t mind him, he’s just out here growing out his hideously malformed hands and fingers endlessly from every part of his body, normally, as one does. nothing quirk-related about it. anyone could do this if they simply exercise and maintain a balanced diet. this 100% is not a quirk y’all it’s just essential oils

SUDDEN MONOMA FEELS DELIVERED TO MY DOORSTEP???

awwww. the way he’s almost panicked, frantically wondering if he somehow fucked the quirk up and desperate for Aizawa to believe him that he’s trying his best. and Aizawa quick to reassure him. this kid is so desperate for approval. and unapologetically careening his way onto my top ten character list, welcome dear boy

so that’s that. see you in two years Deku. his last words spoken out loud to Kacchan were, and I quote, “wha --”

Aizawa is so hopelessly impossibly hot at all times and I don’t know how the universe can handle his existence. he’s even doing it without activating his quirk now. no ponytails or anything. just an eyepatch and a dream

don’t mind me, I’m just out here doing literal algebra to figure out how long it would take Deku to get back here if he traveled at the same speed as All Might did in chapter 90 (30 seconds per 5km, apparently). about 20 minutes, give or take. well shit. hopefully he’s a little faster than Kamino-era All Might was, especially since he can fly and has that Fa Jin shit too. or maybe Rody can fly him lmao. or S&S’s hot fighter pilot boyfriend

“what’d Sensei say, Deku?” “he said no, looks like I gotta uber. can I borrow your credit card, I promise I will venmo you back”

unfortunately for Deku he does not realize he’s accidentally gotten himself caught up in what will undoubtedly end up being the most erotic and bisexual of the various final battles

can’t believe Deku has like 6 love interests and out of all of them, Toga is the first one who actually asks him out. good for you girl. gotta shoot your shot

Chapter 348

FELLAS IS IT GAY TO BREAK OUT INTO TERRIFIED BEN DAY DOTS BECAUSE A GIRL EXPRESSED HER CARNAL INTEREST IN YOU????

anyway so since Deku apparently doesn’t understand how romance works either, he’s trying his best to give an actual response by recontextualizing all of this in terms of the one big thing he does understand: All Might

you’re telling me you never wanted to stab All Might to death and then turn into him?? wow I just can’t believe it

but also... okay lol. so I was thinking about this sarcastically, but was then struck by the very unironic thought that there sorta kinda is someone whom Deku does, both consciously and subconsciously, try to be like, and who he also kinda does apparently share the same heart and mind as. at least if chapter 403 is anything to go by lol. soooooooo. huh

god damn it Toga. absolutely none of what you’ve said or done here has been even the SLIGHTEST BIT reasonable. you can’t just tell someone you want to stab them and be their girlfriend. and if and when they try to let you down easy by responding with the MOST THOUGHTFUL AND GENTLE REJECTION ANYONE COULD EVER POSSIBLY MAKE UNDER THESE CIRCUMSTANCES, because they’re actually the WORLD’S NICEST MAN, you can’t just respond by doing whatever it is you’re presumably about to do, which I’m guessing is gonna be really violent and unhinged

so Ochako is all “ever since we fought last time I’ve been thinking about you a lot!” and Toga is all “are you serious, YOU broke up with ME bitch” and now she’s standing behind her with a knife

“she’s the least predictable of our opponents” YEAH NO KIDDING LOL

“everyone knows that Toga is actually Ochako’s villain, like ffs Deku you haven’t even interacted with her since the Provisional Exam arc.” Deku they’re 100% right and you’re looking more and more the fool with each passing second

well all right lol. twenty minutes to get back to Musutafu. let’s just hope he doesn’t run into any traffic on the way

Chapter 349

what the fuck is OFA Dos’s quirk exactly and are we ever gonna get to it before I literally die of old age. at this point there’s gotta be a reason why he’s not using it, right?? so what’s the deal there? does he still somehow not know how? is it too dangerous? and I really need to know why II has the Bakugou gauntlets. tell me this isn’t one of the things we’re still waiting on answers for two years down the line because I swear to god I will cry

anyway so Deku’s saying he’s doing his best but he’s still “too slow”. WELL THEN MAYBE IT’S THAT TIME?? DEKU?? WHAT DO YOU SAY

NO FUCKING WAY LOL, CAN IT REALLY BE THAT EASY??!

OH WHAT THE FUCK, FUCK YOU NOT!CCHAN LOL YOU’RE JUST HERE TO COCKBLOCK HIM?

fuck. so has he used it since then?? is he gonna use it finally now that Kacchan’s alive and well again?? oh my god I need to shut up and stop asking questions and just keep reading. fuck

wow so Dabi’s literally just burning the All Might statue while he stalls for time trying to figure out how to beat his OP little brother who was literally engineered to be better than him sob. out of all the villains he’s probably the most screwed right now isn’t he

starting to get an inkling Dabi’s not happy that he doesn’t actually get to fight Endeavor. getting some subtle hints here and there that he might actually be upset about that

apparently wanting to fight Dabi and stop him from helping to destroy the world makes Shouto a pawn. wake up Shouto. stop being such a sheep, Shouto. can’t you see that saving the world is exactly what Endeavor wants you to do???!

this is just going to be seventeen chapters of Dabi talking about nonsense while they both stand around progressively getting hotter both literally and metaphorically isn’t it

Chapter 350

OH SNAP. [SLAMS HAND ON TABLE] HERE WE GO. IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME

well, well, well. to the surprise of absolutely no one. the real one who was responsible for everything this whole time

but I just have to pause real quick before we continue. because it absolutely cannot be a coincidence that AFO just happened to be there once again. just waiting in the shadows to magically swoop in the minute disaster strikes. and so, just like with baby Tenko, this immediately makes me suspect that Touya burning himself alive was not in fact a training accident at all. which is something I did not expect, and which, just. fuck, fuck, FUCK AFO. fuck this guy.

looks like the children's ward of a hospital?? wait, what??

how the fuck is he still so adorable. when exactly did the transition take place between adorable and sexily unhinged. right now Todoroki Touya still looks to be the absolute most adorable child on the planet

I miscalculated. I was not emotionally prepared to handle this chapter right now. I should not have clicked

really love to see that Touya didn’t just cave right away. wouldn’t have felt right, ngl. just doesn’t fit in with what we know about his character

oh shit wait we’re cutting back to Dabi talking to Shouto and he says he did come back home??

fucking why. goddammit what the hell. why is this the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever read. LOVE HIM!! SOMEONE!! ANYONE!! just love him, please. literally all he has ever wanted!!

JESUS. I HATE THIS. I am so upset right now. out of all of the horrific and traumatic and terrible, awful things that have happened to BnHA characters in their flashbacks, the thing that hits me the most out of all of them is this one image of a sixteen-year-old boy standing before an altar, with his family very much alive and standing RIGHT FUCKING THERE IN THE NEXT ROOM, and yet somehow feeling more alone than he’s ever been. so alone he literally gives up all hope in this one moment. my god I feel all of it and it’s so fucking devastating I keep having to stop typing so I don’t completely break down sobbing

well damn. after a rush of 15 and 13-page chapters, which were all admittedly appreciated by me in my race to catch up to Light Fades to Rain before this coming Friday, Horikoshi finishes up the volume with one hell of a 17 page finale. once again the Tododrama delivers. this was fucking phenomenal

[courtingchaos]

Rent the Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Man, remember that picture you found? I wonder how you two decide to deal with that little hiccup...

A/N: I've finally come to the realization that this little fic is a labor of love for me. It's my baby so it isn't ever really going to have a real updating schedule. All of that to say, thank you for sticking around and reading you guys! Not a spoiler but just so you know, the end kind of reads like An End, but I have a lot more planned for theses two. This is just like, and end to the pining.

Also, I know others are reading this, but I'm giving a whole shoutout to @fracturedarkness who has been the best cheerleader for me with this story from essentially day one. Literally a ray of sunshine 😘😘😘

(If y'all want a soundtrack at all, just listen to Hozier's Wasteland! Baby. Seriously it's basically all I listened to.)

Warnings: SMUT! There's smut! Halleluiah! 18+ NSFW Minors GTFO

In sixth grade Eddie had caught mono. It was the first serious illness that Wayne had to deal with since taking guardianship four years earlier. Eddie had moaned around the trailer for two weeks, unable to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. He’d been exhausted and couldn’t swallow right. The fever he’d get at night made him nauseous those first few days and that’s the only thing he can compare this sick twist in his gut to. 

Between the picture clutched in your fingers and the intense look on your face, Eddie thinks he might just turn inside out. 

“Ed?”

It sounds like an accusation in his ears. You’ve found him out, evidence catching the light where it waves around between the two of you. Forget trying to tell you his feelings, he’s got a date with  buckshot later. 

He takes it back actually, this feels the same as the day you accidentally met his dad. The sudden visit on a rare stint between prison stays. The lead weight of fear and sadness and pure fucking rage making him go cold and numb.

Eddie is so tired of shit going wrong in his life. 

“Eddie?” How do you sound so soft when he has clearly screwed up so bad?

Also, he went for one shower after making a stupid mess and you decided to what, go through his shit?

Don’t start 

There’s a black mood he gets in sometimes. It creeps up his insides, stains him dark. It makes him mean and he doesn’t want to be mean, not to you. Not to anyone really. 

He knows on a deeper level this is his fault, it was only a matter of time before you found the picture. Tucked in books and forgotten in his sheets he’s honestly surprised it’s taken this long.  

“Eddie!” The sharpness of his name jerks his head out of the haze he’s in. Sees your eyes clearly and you’re not mad, in fact he thinks that might be a smile hidden under all the confusion. 

“Where did you get this?” Even and calm. Could you lend him some of that? His throat clicks when he tries to swallow. 

“I think uh, I think I took it. On ha-Halloween. Last year.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice, the deep scratch of it. “We were drunk at Hagan’s. I don’t know wh-“

“You took this?” Another wiggle of the polaroid. Your grip on the box of weed is still white knuckled. Okay, maybe that wasn’t a smile. He can’t really tell anymore, the panic settling in firing off all his alarm bells. 

“You weren’t supposed to find it.” He’s so quiet, hasn’t been quiet like this in a long time. Wasn’t even this quiet sneaking into bedrooms. 

You take a step forward and he launches back. Head hits the door frame and if god is real he would let the paneling swallow him whole right now. 

“Why do you have this? Why all the-” you gesture behind you, “why all my shit? You told me you hadn’t seen my Theo figure anywhere and she’s in the drawer with all my shit!” Your voice gets tight, face scrunching up in complete confusion. “I thought I was loosing my stuff but you’re just stealing all of it! My zippo! Eddie what the fuck?!” No, right, there’s the anger. He’s pressed so firmly against the door jam it’s guaranteed to leave marks for a week. You take another step forward and he has nowhere to go, pinned under your scrutiny and words and the waving hand holding his shame. But where your voice was rising in anger, it drops suddenly, slides into something softer. “Why do you have this?”

Yeah Eddie, why do you have it?

It’s a total accumulation of, let’s be real, two years of unrepentant pining. Two years of being a dick and going after easy girls because you were off limits in his own doctrine. Too good a friend to ruin the relationship, and too good a person to ruin with himself. It’s nights spent at the bookstore waiting for you to get off, watching with a burning in his gut as the dipshit college guy you work with tries to edge his way into a date. Blunts and cigarettes shared like kisses between lips he isn’t allowed to taste otherwise. It’s the grappling like two idiots fighting, breathless giggles and rough shoves that end in headlock hugs and usually him tapping out first, unable to stand being in your embrace if it isn’t for keeps. 

“I…” the space in his room is somehow bigger than it’s ever been, leaving him adrift in the chaos of his things and your things and the too thin air that you’re somehow breathing in just fine. There’s a stutter in his chest where he’s not catching his breath, the familiar heat behind his eyes where the tears are trying to rush forward. “It’s just-fuck! It’s such a creep…move I know and I just didn’t want to l-let it go because it was a good night and-and a good picture and your hand…” he’d dropped his eyes to stare at your feet, unable to say his half-assed explanation to your face. “Your hand. On my leg.” Just a whisper. Swings his hand limply toward you. “I just, it was a nice thought.”  His throat is tight and he’s afraid if you keep looking at him he might cry. 

He’s watched you take enough steps forward so you’re practically toe to toe with him. In his peripheral he watches you toss the box behind you onto the bed, your other clutching the evidence lightly taps against his chest and rests there. 

He looks up through his lashes and his hair, keeping his sight obscured like it’ll protect him from whatever you’re about to say. 

“I can’t believe-“ you cut off with a laugh and a shake of your head, that small smile he thought he saw turning back up. “I feel so fucking stupid.”

Eddie’s stomach has disappeared along with the rest of his insides. There’s never been a real foundation of proof for him, just stolen glances he’s caught you in. That lingering look you’d give him, the way you’d hang onto him longer during a hug sometimes. Mostly just blind hope and his own low simmering ego to egg him on. 

“Do you want to know what I did this morning?” He nods, he really does want to know. There’s the smallest drip of warmth trickling down his back with your words. 

“I woke up and I thought about you. First thought of the day.” A deep breath and he can see the pink blooming up out of the collar of his shirt you’re wearing. “I thought about you and I felt so stupid after, for sitting in the dark and pretending that you’d ever-“ You stop yourself again and drop your eyes to stare at your hand on his chest. 

“You thought about me?” He asks and you nod slowly. He’s got an idea about what that might mean. “Do you maybe also have a secret polaroid?”

A break in the tension and you take a step back, laughing. A real one he knows, warm and happy. The photo hits him in the chest where your hand just was, where you’ve just flicked it at him. “How long Eddie?” 

“What?” He grabs for the photo but it flutters to the ground. 

“How long have you liked me?” Your wide eyes and breathless question challenge him. When he doesn’t respond fast enough for you, you reach out and push his bangs away from his face, smoothing them back. His wispy armor is gone and with it, surprisingly, some of his fear. Your eyes are clear and waiting, smile still pulling at your lips. 

“I don’t, I don’t have like, a date. Like, a-awhile.” Eddie stutters like he’s never spoken these words before. Nerves replacing fear when it starts to finally dawn on him: this isn’t going to end in flames.

The hand at his forehead slides down and rests on his cheek. He hasn’t taken a full breath in since you pushed his hair back, never mind now that your cradling his face, but the fear has been slowly melting off his shoulders while you’ve been staring at him and when your eyes trail down his face, it and the sudden nerves all just disappear. 

He feels your fingers flex along his jaw and he finally takes that breath. 

“I’m not reading this wrong am I?” Barely a whisper but he hears you. Shakes his head and opens his mouth to talk but you cut him off, just as quiet, “I don’t want us to make a mistake.” 

“You think this’d be mistake?” The hurt leaks through without his meaning to. 

“God no, Eddie I-“

There’s a bloom of confidence he hasn’t felt before, something that twist up through his ribs and around his spine. “Good.” 

Reaching out for you feels natural. He’s reached out to you a hundred times before but he’s never slid his hands into your hair. Tucked them up behind your ears and pulled you in close, felt you gasp when he brushes his lips against yours. Your hands pull at his shirt where they’re both fisted in the thin material, keeping him close. When you push into him he feels your mouth open, tongue grazing along his bottom lip; white static across his thoughts. 

It’s 10pm on a Thursday night and your kissing him in his room. Wearing his t-shirt and pushing him against the wall while your kissing him. He feels one of your hands flatten against his chest and his heart rockets off and your still kissing him. There’s your tongue again begging entrance and he yields, feels that barbell slide across his own tongue and he’s done for. It’s better than he could ever fantasize. He wants more of it but you just aren’t close enough. He grips at your hair to pull you in, to try and deepen the kiss but there’s no where else to go. You mumble something against his lips but he just swallows the sound and slides a hand down your back till he can get his fingers up under the hem of the shirt, palm laid flat against the small of your back. 

“Eddie.” You sigh his name and he makes it a personal goal right then to get you to do it again. Your hands wander down his chest and he starts his own wandering down your neck, lips finding any open skin he can kiss. “Hold on, Eddie-“

“I’m not holding on for shit.” He says in between kisses. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for months.” Your laugh vibrates under his mouth and it makes his eyes roll. “Do you want me to stop?” He pauses under your ear, panting against you. 

“No.” You sigh and shake your head, leaning into his hand still in your hair. “No I don’t.” 

He spends a few more minutes pulling little sounds out of you that he’s filing away for later. Nipping at your skin when you run your hands under his shirt and push it up. 

“Can I?” The question isn’t even finished before he pulls the shirt over his head and throws it behind you on the dresser. “Oh!” A giggle when he lays his hands back on you, hands rucking up your own shirt where he can run his palms over your midriff. There’s no finesse to his kisses anymore, just laying them wherever he can, anything to make you giggle again. He moves his hands higher, pushing your shirt up so he can finally see your tits again. It’s been a whole ass year since your wore your dress and he’s dreamt about this every day since. He kisses the tops of them and is mesmerized by the way they bounce back under his touch. 

“Hello old friends.”

“Old friends?!” When you laugh they move with you and he has to force himself to look back up at you. 

“Yeah, you saw the picture. We’re well acquainted.” He buries his face down in your cleavage and you hear him take a deep breath. “How do you always smell so good?” He’s layering kisses again and you’re trying to move around until you can pull your own shirt off. “Hey don’t rush this, I have this perfectly planned.” 

“Oh, so you left the drawer open on purpose?”

“Absolutely, it’s been my months long plan.” He takes a step forward to force you back one. Eyebrows scrunched together he scoffs, “I almost let you catch me for a while and then it happens by mistakeand I act like it’s the biggest fuck up ever and now I’ve got you shirtless. Listen, I plan campaigns babe. You know I can write ten steps ahead.” He’s walking you backwards till your legs hit his bed, fingers holding onto your belt loops to keep you close. 

“Eddie?” You hook your fingers into the waistband of his flannel pants, pulling down till they shift off his hips. 

“What?” He’s distracted by your fingers sliding around his hips. 

“You’re so full of shit.” He laughs when steps out of his pants and sees you look down, an immediate tilt to your head. Your fingers still against his skin, skimming the elastic of his boxers but he knows you’re staring at the growing bulge. The clever remark he had ready dies in the back of his throat when he hears the quiet ‘hmm’, watches your tongue poke out to swipe across your lips.

“If you keep staring I’m gonna get self conscious.” One hand covers his mouth to muffle the end of his sentence while the other lightly rubs up against his dick through the thin cotton. Somehow he stays upright, mouth falling open under your hand to pant against your palm. 

“You got any other surprises for me Munson?”

Are you talking to him? He can’t get a braincell to function with the heat of your hand pressed against him, barely moving at all. The button on your jeans is about all he can fathom, getting them opened and remembering how a zipper works is next. Your breath bouncing off of his chest makes him shiver and kind of brings some of his brain back up and running. 

“I uh, I got a few tricks up my sleeve.” He tips you back till you sit and he follows close, making you lay down. You laugh when your back hits the bed and you keep laughing, body shaking as he works your jeans down your legs. 

“What’s so funny, giggles?”

“I’m just…this is the first time I’ve had sex in a bed.”

Eddie stops moving and looks up at you from your feet. “I’m sorry, what?” He hopes he’s just hearing wrong, on account of his brain short circuiting a moment ago.  

“Yeah, it’s just always been in the back of cars.” You say it so flippantly, like it’s just a thing that happened to you. “I mean, It’s whatever. I just realized no one’s ever pushed me back on a bed before.” Your grin is hazy when you look down your body at him but he’s stone sober now. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to any of those assholes and he knows it. You’re the best thing to happen to him, and somehow you’ve gone this long with shitty car hookups. 

“No.” He shakes his head and pulls your jeans off fully. Slides your socks off and tosses them in the pile of your clothes. “You’re lying, please tell me your lying.” 

“I’m not! There’s so much more room!” You wave your arms next to you like you’re making a snow angle in his sheets. You sit up quick, bracing yourself on one hand to reach behind yourself to undo your bra when he stops you. 

“You don’t have to do that, I can help.” He’s crowded up against your legs where you’ve dropped them both sideways. 

“I know that, I was just making it easier.” His face must drop because you huff at him. “Look, I’m not stupid Eddie. I just, haven’t had the best track record I guess. I just assumed-“

“That I was gonna be like the other guys.”

You shrug. “Yeah, Hawkin’s finest. You know.” 

That’s a little bit of a blow, he won’t lie, but watching you slam up your walls when they’ve been nonexistent all night makes him switch tactics. 

“You deserve better than that.” He swings his legs to the side so he can lean over you, one arm braced against your hip, the other tilting your chin to look at him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you pout before, your bottom lip sticking out pink and wet and he wants to bite it. “I’m serious.” He leans in close, lips brushing yours. “Can I be nice to you?” He whispers against you and your face flushes immediately, eyes darting down to stare at the bed. He can’t stop the grin spreading across his face, delighted with how flustered you get. 

“I-you’re always nice.” You mumble, chin fighting to get away from his hand holding you still. 

“I can be nicer.” He closes the small gap and kisses you again, still holding your chin. He can feel your breathing speed up when it ghosts over his cheek where you’re nose is pressed. When he’s certain you won’t pull away he moves his hand to your back, unhooking the clasps one by one. Eddie pulls back to look at you properly, fingers lightly pulling the straps down your arms. “Can I?”

“You don’t have to ask.” You say, still nodding your head at him anyways. 

“It’s good manners.” He says simply, wiggling your bra off of you, tossing it to join the growing pile. You’ve shifted back to your elbows, further away from him but giving him a better view. None of his fantasies are measuring up to real life. Just watching the way your tits lay when you shift has him practically drooling. He runs a fingertip from between them and down to your navel, marveling at the softness of your skin. Runs that same fingertip over to a hip and you jump just a little. “Ticklish?”

“Maybe.” Your voice is wobbly, chest rising and falling faster. He lays his palm flat against your stomach and runs it up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast and you sigh, letting your head fall back between your shoulders. 

“You are so fucking pretty.” Eddie means it. Even before all the crushing and jealously he could see it. With your head back he can watch the blush creep down your chest and he marvels at that too. 

“Eddie you can’t just say shit like that.” You sound strained from the angle your at. He runs his thumb under the swell of your breast again just to watch you shudder. 

“What, that your pretty?” He leans down to place a kiss on your chest, can feel your heartbeat tick up faster. He’s only got so much restraint before he grabs you up into his lap but he’s trying hard to be a gentleman about it. You deserve that much for your first time. Well, not overall but with him? Eddie’s determined to make you forget about every other guy who’s even looked at you. 

“Look at me.” He’s dropping kisses along your collarbone trying to get you to lift your head up. His hands have been itching to grab your tits but he wants you to stop being shy for a minute. “Please.” He’s trying to kiss up your neck when you finally lift your head. “Can you scoot up for me?” He asks and you oblige. As soon as your head hits his pillow he’s leaned back, pulling your knees back up so he wedge himself between them. He grabs your hand and pulls it up to kiss your open palm and you close your fingers around his cheeks, making him laugh. 

“Will you stop being cute and just touch me?” 

“How?” He kisses down your wrist, watching you get more flustered. 

“I don’t know, whatever you normally do?”

“No, that was with them, they don’t matter anymore.” He makes it to the crook of your elbow before he lets go and crawls over the top of you, getting in your face to stare you down. “What’d you think about this morning, hm?” He’s keeping track of all the little whimpers your making, the way you bite your lip when he makes you nervous. You won’t meet his eye so he follows your line of sight and you huff at him. 

“Stuff, Eddie. Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands and he thinks he can feel the heat radiating off of you. It’s driving him crazy in the best way, he doesn’t think he’s ever had this effect on anyone before. 

“Aw c’mon. Tell me.” He kisses each finger before moving down to your knuckles and honestly, he just can’t help himself anymore when he brings a hand up to knead at your tits, a quick pinch of a hardened nipple and you gasp into your hands. “Was it this?” He pinches again and you wiggle under him, hips jumping up against him and he drops his head. You’re hot everywhere, and the core of you pressed up against him through his boxers is going to do him in if he’s not careful. “If you don’t tell me I’m gonna have to guess and this could be a long night.” He rolls his hips into you to try to get his point across and to try to get some relief. 

“Is that such a bad thing?” You ask, pulling your hands down to just cover your mouth. Your eyes are wide and glassy, pupils big and dark. 

“No, but I want to know what I do in these dreams of yours.” He moves back to your neck to make a path to your chest where he laps at your nipple. “Something like this?” He asks before wrapping his lips around and sucking, tongue flicking over sensitive skin. You arch your chest up and there’s a laugh caught in your moan. He moves over to your other side, nipping at you before mouthing at your other nipple, hand teasing at your hip. He snaps your underwear against you and you let out a quiet ‘ow’ and try to swat at his hand. “Or was I somewhere else?” His fingertips graze under the band and inch down. Your knees pull up tight around him and he’s so close to saying fuck it to his own game. 

“You were-fuck Eddie, you were going down on me.” You get so quiet, the one hand still on your mouth muffling your voice. 

“Oh?” He lets your nipple go with a wet sound, big grin already set in place. 

“If your gonna make fun of me…”

“Absolutely not.” 

You watch him over your hand place a scattering of kisses down till he hits your underwear, giving you one last questioning look before he hooks his fingers in and pulls them down. You’re also starting to feel a little self conscious when you realize he hasn’t taken his eyes off you. 

Payback

“Ed.” He just runs his hands up your legs, big palms warm against your thighs. He pulls your knees out a little further before leaning down and re-situating himself between your thighs, leaving open mouthed kisses along the inside. You’re torn between wanting to watch him and wanting to cover your face in embarrassment when he makes the decision for you, pulling at your elbow to drag your hand down to his head. He’s got that lazy smirk on his face and you can feel his breath skipping across too sensitive skin. 

“Give you something to hold on to.” You want to laugh but he’s too quick, fingers moving in to hold you open for him. Your head drops into the pillow when he licks a broad tongue from your center right up to your clit, your back arching up and Eddie’s laugh vibrates through you. 

“Oh fuck.”

“I haven’t even started yet.” You can hear the proud smirk in his voice and if you’d like to say something smart back you won’t, too focused on his mouth working you over. His tongue is soft, even when he points it, uses it to prod at your opening and you forget any remarks you might have had for him. 

“Eddie.” You pull at his hair when he wraps his lips around your clit and he groans. You’re stuck concentrating on his mouth until he slides one finger in and you choke on a gasp. He pulls his mouth away and lays his head against your leg, watching you from under his wet hair. 

“Is this what you thought about?” He can see you nod into the pillow, hand twisted next to your head in the fabric while he pumps his hand slowly. 

“It’s what I thought about.” He hooks his finger up, trying to find that soft spot to make you melt. “I think about it all the time.” The grip on your thigh is tight, keeping it close against his cheek. “Ever since you told me about those shitty dates.” 

“Seriously?” You lift your head, eyes half lidded and face scrunched up. 

“I should have nutted up and said something. They didn’t deserve you.” He pulls his finger out and you watch him suck it into his mouth, watch his eyes roll in his head. You groan and he adds his middle finger before he pulls his hand out, spit slick fingers running up over your clit, teasing you before he slides both back in. He leans in to run his tongue through your folds, watching you from under his lashes while you wriggle around and clutch at the pillow. The hand in his hair grips tighter and your legs squeeze up around his ears and he’s surrounded by you, the low chanting of his name keeping him planted in place. He finally finds that spot, feels you shudder under him before you moan, tilting your hips up to chase his touch. 

“Eddie Eddie Eddie fuck!” You keep rolling your hips against his face and he can’t help himself. He’s been pathetically rutting into the mattress listening to you whine and he can’t take it anymore. He taps under your thigh to get your attention, really gets it when he fully pulls away and you look down at him all concerned. “Why are you stopping?” 

“Good reason.” He stands up and pulls off his boxers, rooting around his nightstand for the condoms he knows are in there. He’s oblivious to you on the bed, sitting all the way up now and staring. Of course they’re not where he left them, instead tucked behind his lamp but he grabs one and climbs back on the bed before he realizes what he’s done. “Oh.” Eddie feels his face heat up when he looks down at himself. “I probably should have done that better.” He’s expecting you to laugh or sigh or say something witty but you just snatch the foil out of his hand and tear it open. You only pause for second before wrapping your hand around him and he’s positive this isn’t going to last as long as he’d hopped. When you roll the condom down he hisses and drops, head falling into your shoulder. 

“You okay champ?” 

He just nods and whines when you give him a few easy strokes, watching your hand move up and down his cock. You’re so much more gentle with him than he is with himself. Eyes half open and mouth hanging he’s sure he looks fucking stupid but he doesn’t care, doesn’t want you to stop touching him. When you scoot closer and pull his face up it takes him a moment to realize you’re kissing him, for him to react and do something. 

“C’mere.” He shakes out of his haze enough to move back between your knees, pulling your hips so your ass is flush against his thighs. He pulls your leg up to hook over his hip, placing a quick kiss on your knee before lining himself up.  He rubs the tip of cock against you, catching on your clit twice and making you whimper. 

“Please Ed.” He doesn’t need to be begged twice, grabs the base of his dick and sinks in slow. Sees your breath catch and your eyes roll, “Oh fuck it.” He bottoms out, can feel you clenching around him tight and hot and gasping and laughing and he looses all composure. Fingers dug into your leg wrapped around him he snaps his hips back and into you, punching out a sharp peal of laughter. He does it again, loves the way he can hear the choked off gasp in your throat. When he picks up his pace you grab at the sheets, twisting them up off his bed. 

“Fucking th-thank you-u!” It’s stuttered out between thrust, your face flushed and twisted up in a smile. 

“You know how many times I thought about this?” He has to talk, if he doesn’t talk he’s going to blow his load and he refuses to let your first time together end before a full minute passes. “Every time I looked at that picture I thought about it. I should have fucked you in that bathroom.” Your nails scratch at his thigh where they try to find purchase. “All the rides out to the lake oh fuck- I should have done this sooner, yeah?” He licks his thumb before bringing it down on your clit, running tight circles around it. Your back arches off the bed and he feels you clench around him. “Is that it? Right there-ohmygod.” It almost sounds like you’re crying his name just before you come, nails digging into his thigh when it crashes into you. He watches you tense up and then collapse against the bed, pliant under him where he starts to loose his rhythm. The heat that reached up fast burns up his spine while he watches you revel in your aftershocks, already trying to grab him down to you. The hazy look in your eyes and that grin you’re flashing him send him over the edge, burying himself with a deep groan, your name scattered between curses. He’s whited out until he can catch his breath, gripping your thigh until he can see straight. In the distant ringing in his ears he can hear your giggle under him, soft like the hands trying to pull him closer. 

“Hey.” Your eyes find his in his own haze, slowly coming back down to earth. “Come here.” Gentle tugs to get him to lay down but he shakes his head, asks for minute. He pulls out to get rid of the condom and disappears into the bathroom for minute, leaving you to roll around his bed. When he comes back he turns off his light. Sees that you’ve pulled the blankets up under your chin, one finger poking out to beckon him back in. “I’m cold.” 

Eddie would like to pinch himself just to make sure this is real. In all of his imaginings he never let himself have this part. The sex was easy to think about but this hurt too much to ever linger on. He finds his pants first before crawling back into bed, snaking a hand around your middle and pulling you into him. He wedges his nose up under your jaw and hums, leaving a few soft kisses in his wake. 

“Are you always this cuddly?” 

“I don’t normally get to cuddle.” You’re both quiet in the dark, hushed tones under the blankets. 

“Huh.” Your fingers tangle up in his hair, nails lightly scratching over his scalp. It sends a deep shiver down his spine and he has a split second where he feels like crying. “Their loss.” He feels the kiss you leave on his forehead and just buries his head further into your neck. You smell like you always do, sweet and deep and now a little like him. He drifts off without meaning to. 

It’s not daylight yet, but his room is lighter. There’s no alarm clock going off next to his head so he looks around, trying to find whatever it is that pulled him out of his warm cocoon. 

Bleary vision in the dark, he can barely make out your form jumping quietly into your jeans. He’s peering at you from under the covers, watching you get dressed. You stop mid jump to pick something up, staring at it before padding over to his dresser and tucking it into his mirror. He’s basically awake when you turn to open his door and he quietly asks you where you’re going. 

“Jesus fucking Christ you’re gonna give me a heart attack.” You clutch you chest and try to search through the dark for his eyes, finally see him when he pulls the sheets back a bit. 

“Seriously, where are you goin’?”

“It’s almost 5. I figured Wayne was gonna be home soon so I cleaned up the living room and like, I didn’t know if I should hang around?”

“You sleep over here all the time.” He slides a hand out from under the covers to make a grabby hand at you. “He won’t care.”

“Well I mean, I’m not usually naked in your bed dude.”

“Then leave your shirt on.” Eddie doesn’t understand what you’re not understanding. “I mean it, Wayne isn’t gonna care. If anything he’ll be happy I stopped bitching about you.”

“You bitch about me?”

“No, I bitched about not having you. There’s a difference. Now come here, I’m cold.” He lifts the blankets up quick, making a sweeping motion for you to get back in. “Plus, he won’t say anything unless you do. He likes you too much to embarrass you.” You’re out of your jeans again and crawling over him, trying to avoid kneeing him. 

“Aww, he likes me?”

“Well I like you too.” You’re barely settled before he’s wrapped around you, leg hitched over your thighs and pinning you down. “What’s that get me?” He’s nosing along your jaw again. 

“Depends what you’re looking for.” 

“Mm. Concert tickets to see Ozzy in Indy.”

“Oh that’s a big ask.”

“I see. How about a kiss?” He pulls back to smile lazily up at you. 

“I can do that.”

❣Tag List❣

@edsforehead @fracturedarkness @munsonsguitarpick @bebe07011 @ali-r3n @cantreadbutcute @eddiethesexy @emma77645

[spro-o]

okay, so,,, i got back to reading 4kota, and i have so many thoughts of literally every nature

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR 4KOTA, NATURALLY!

okay so, allow me to rant a lil

bro why the actual fuck is Arthur just magical hitler now?? 😭 like hello???? it genuinely makes me really sad because he was such a sweet and likable character for most of 7ds and now he wants to create an ethnostate for humans only???? it just breaks my heart, man

SAME WITH JERICHO LIKE HELLO? QUEEN, YOURE BETTER THAN THIS. genuinely tho- nakaba try not to make all your characters pedos challenge (impossible). there are literally so many other ways in which Jericho could have ended up in a similar situation, but nakaba really just chose pedophilia? it couldve been something along the same lines just without the romantic attraction!! a family bond can be just as strong- and it couldve been something like her losing Lancelot or in some other way letting him down, and then thinking that he despises her and holds onto that grudge (which, judging his character it wouldve probably been a small spat that he got over) - but maybe Jericho didnt understand that, or wasnt ready to face him, expecting him to be livid - so she asked for an alternative reality where that didnt happen and they got along great as sister/brother or master/trainee. i wouldnt put Jericho past being so stubborn that she wouldnt believe when Lance would say that he forgave her, and then boom!! same set-up, just without the nasty pedophilia!!

ON THE NOTE OF WHICH- (theres so much of that garbage in nakaba's writing, fucks sake) - i genuinely hate the whole thing happening with Guinevere. the whole non-consensual kiss from a 12 year old to a 16 year old (ewwwww) is one thing, but then when Lance is reflecting on that interaction and he SMILES????

you have no idea how much this panel killed me to see. Lancelot youre better than this,,,, 4 years is not a big age difference when youre in your 30's, but when youre 16???? please,,,, cmon now,,,

speaking of whommmmm~~ ,,, I ADORE LANCELOT!! SO MUCH!! this is to be expected considering i love Ban, bUT- hes genuinely just such a cool and wonderful character that has some sense in him. i especially loved those panels where he was like jumping around to get himself hyped up cuz like!! Ban does that!!!! i love,,,,

elizabeth (looking gorge btw, i love that for her) is unfortunately reduced to an object of fondling yet again 😔 literally like the second panel that shes in and shes getting grabbed and groped by Meliodas?? it just feels mad disrespectful to her really deep character that she has such a minor role when you ignore her being sexualised by Mel (in reality nakaba, but i digest)

i love that panel where Anne tells Isolde about what chastity actually is hbghjnhbjh

I FEEL SO BAD FOR NASIENS WHEN PERCY IS ALL UP IN ANNES BOOBS. genuinely- the dropped bag, and all of he blushing that happened before it during their interactions,,,, that shit broke my heart, man

nakaba try not to draw teenagers naked challenge (impossible) (chapter 86 cover)

this is literally like the cutest fucking thing ever????? i want more calm, slice of life stuff for our skrunglies. they deserve a break

someone, please, stop all this shit going on with Guinevere (writing this while reading chp 87) – I really despise the fact that nakaba has to make like literally all of the relationships either look like they have a massive age gap (Ban and Elaine), or actually have a fucking criminal age gap (Mel and Ellie). it really is not that difficult to just write a relationship where there is a <2 year age gap, did you know that, nakaba?? crazy, I know (deadass, while I don’t ship them, it would at least be bearable if she was also like 15-16, just not 12 TT)

chion is such a fucking pain in the ass oh mah gahhhhhh

I love Gawain’s lesbian antics <3

At this point, though I love seeing the characters interact in more casua circumstances, id rather have more fight scenes than god awful, shoe-horned romances between any two characters of the opposite gender (exceptions being Nasiens and Gawain, my sillies <3)

okay,,, thats it for now, but do expect more at some point or another huiyuvghbijhb

[tickldpnk8]

Song of Orpheus Recap

Man, Song of Orpheus is hard. I started this post on July 6th. Three months ago!! It's a tragedy within a tragedy, I got emotional, and then put this book in the metaphorical freezer for a bit.

But it's also jam-packed with revelations and foreshadowing. It's a super-long issue (arc?) and I'll be covering it all in one go. So without further ado, I'll get into it.

On Orpheus’ nature

So it kicks off with a bit of foreshadowing in the form of a prophetic dream. So prophetic dreaming isn't something that started just when he became an oracle. Orpheus also seems to have no power over his dream, but once he becomes lucid enough, he is able to see his father and then visit him in the Dreaming. It's also interesting to me that he doesn't seem to be able to interpret his dream: asking Morpheus what it all meant. (And getting the brush off from his dad in the process.) Morpheus implies that he might actually know what the dream means, but won't tell his son because he is his son. (side note: this interaction totally reminded me of friends in high school who had parents who taught at our school)

Orpheus is also able to open a portal to the Dreaming with just his voice and lyre. I found this super interesting: combined with what we saw a few issues back in France, he seems to have some sort of power that manifests through song. Whether this is something his father grants him to get "home" easier or whether it's just how powerful of a musician he is, is not stated. I think it lends credence to Orpheus having some sort of demi-god-like musical power though in addition to prophetic dreams. Seems a perfect balance of traits to inherit from both of his parents.

On grief:

This is a repeating refrain throughout this issue: People die, you grieve and you move on. Aristeas expresses this sentiment in the opening pages of Chapter 1.

And Morpheus repeats the same sentiment to Orpheus in Chapter 2 after Euridice dies. As I was writing this section of this post, we were having a conversation on Grief and how it relates to Morpheus' own character. The linked thread is a slight tangent, but I do feel like this refrain just continues to echo throughout the series and between the characters.

On the Endless:

We also learn a ton about Morpheus' siblings in this issue. Especially as they are all introduced to Euridice. For example:

Apparently, Delirium almost got married at one point. I don't see this panel talked about a lot during discussions of her character. And I have to wonder, is this why Del changed? Is it why Delight was sad as @onehundredandeleventropicalfish pointed out that subtle lettering detail from Overture? She's always pictured so young as Delight that I can't really picture her marrying at that stage...and yet...

Meanwhile, we are finally introduced to the missing Endless: And I love that when we finally get a name, it's in Greek and his face is covered. Ha! Way to draw out the mystery a bit more. I love that he refers to Orpheus as his favorite nephew...but it begs the question how many nephews does he have??

But also what just happened here? Did Destruction simply open a portal to his sister’s house? Or did he literally kill Orpheus to grant him the audience he sought??

This panel never ceases to get me in the feels: how the family portrait is bisected by the gutter space right where Death should be. But this section of the story also makes me wonder how Death experiences Time...she decorates her apartment in a very modern way with things that haven't been invented yet...are they leftovers from a pre-Overture existence? Does time not pass linearly for her? Or do the Endless simply know what is coming and exist outside of time when they don't want to?

Whatever the case may be, Orpheus isn't able to adjust. So he's a normal human on that front, and we would likewise have a hard time perceiving their realms.

On Morpheus

Here we get that famous line that Morpheus doesn't dance. Not even with his wife and not even at his son's wedding. But also wtf is he wearing and what is that pinned to??

On Morpheus and Relationships

Here we have a conversation between Orpheus and his mother about Morpheus. And it's a bit heartbreaking because you can see how Morpheus is too rigid in his ways/thinking to keep relationships going: Orpheus alleges that his father won't forget or forgive a slight. While Calliope states that Morpheus doesn't really share any part of himself and isn't willing or perhaps able to change. So here we have Morpheus' fatal flaws spelled out for the Reader in this flashback issue.

And the sad thing for me is that by this point of the story, we're seeing that Morpheus is already changing. But the more frustrating point in this panel is that we can see how Orpheus is a chip off the old block...Orpheus is the one who renounced his father, yet it's not apparent that he's tried to reach out and make amends. argh

Yet after Orpheus' death, I do think Morpheus takes things too far as a parent (especially for us modern folks). I'm still hoping to write a meta on him and parenthood, but want to get through Brief Lives before I do. Orpheus asks for his help to die, but Morpheus states that Orpheus' life is his own...and his death too. Effectively upholding the disownment that Orpheus kicked off by stating he was "no longer [his] son" before seeking out his aunt. Morpheus was never going to be the first one to crack on this: he's too by the rules. And the rules state that his son has renounced him.

On Foreshadowing:

It’s also here that we get the first hint about the Thessalian witches...and Thessaly, who will do basically what it says: mutilate a man's face and pull down the moon in the next arc.

And then there's this... Orpheus is the one who has made the Furies cry. Orpheus is the one they will never forgive. And that comes true within this arc with his death at the hands of the Baccanae. But is it concluded? I also just can't help thinking that the son from the union they didn't approve of will give them the means to take revenge upon his father.

[mar64ds]

trying to be better

(ID: A comic of 6 pages about Papyrus and Flowey from Undertale. In the first panel, Papyrus is looking up with a concerned look on his face. He says 'Flowey, we were worried about you! And now... I'll admit it, it's cool that a human soul let's you be taller, but that's besides the point. You can't really believe this is a good idea. Hurting people that aren't your friends it's still hurting people'. In the next panel, we can see that Papyrus was talking to Flowey, who has acquired a human soul, changing his appearence a little bit. He is bigger now, his petals are pointy and he has a human soul in his left palm. He looks slightly confused and replies 'I care about... you guys or whatever... but who cares about someone I don't know? Besides, they won't even be permanently hurt!'. Papyrus then tells him 'Do you really believe that?' Flowey smiles an evil grin and says 'Heheheh, why is it so hard to believe? Maybe I want to be cruel again! I'm at least good at that! I know how to be awful and terrible, being nice is way too hard. Maybe I should just accept who I am instead of keep disappointing people'. In the next panel he looks up to a save point, like the ones they show up in the game and says 'Besides, I miss all the power, all the fun, all the possibilities! Being a god! Why would I want to give that up?! Heheheh!' Papyrus looks skeptical, he stays quiet for a second looking at Flowey, then says 'I don't believe you. I don't think you miss being like this'. Flowey asks 'What?', confused. Papyrus then explains what he means, 'I think you are scared and you want to go back to something familiar. You think it might be easier to be cruel than to be nice and feel guilty when you make mistakes' Flowey is taken aback by this, he is nervous and looks away from Papyrus. He tries to deny it and says 'That's not-' but is interrupted by Papyrus who says 'But Flowey, this isn't you'. Flowey replies with 'This is me, this is who I really am'. Papyrus tells him 'This could be you, but you can choose not to be. You can be this Flowey or you can be the Flowey that likes spending time with his friends, the Flowey that takes care of other flowers, the Flowey that gets annoyed when he loses in a videogame, the Flowey that apologizes when he makes mistake but tries again the next day' Flowey is quiet after this, he looks at his hands with a sad look on his face. 'Why are you always so nice... Hahah...' he says. We can see that the left hand has the human soul, while the right hand has the red ribbon Papyrus gave him a while ago, he still kept it even in this form. He keeps talking, 'You know, I was really scared of any of you seeing me like this... I thought it was because I was worried you would try to stop me'. Tears fall from his eyes and land on his hands, he sobs and says 'No, it wasn't that, heheh...'. Flowey takes the human soul from his palm with the right hand with the ribbon on it, and returns to his regular form. Flowey looks down and cries quietly while offering the soul to Papyrus, knowing it will be safe with him and he will find a good place for it. Flowey sniffes and says 'Here it is...', Papyrus smiles at him and replies 'Hey it's okay you made the right choice'. Flowey says 'Well, the right choice hurts'. Papyrus then asks 'Where did you get this soul anyway?'. Flowey explains 'I don't know, I just... found it. I saw it the other day, just laying there. And... I don't know' In the next panel, Flowey is holding the soul with an upset look, he continues 'I was upset that day and the idea just came to me. I could just take this soul and no one would notice. I could have my powers back. That sounded fun, even if I felt sick just thinking about it, it sounded fun.' Flowey gives the soul to Papyrus while he keeps talking, 'Maybe if I hurt someone else that aren't my friends, this could work. That's what I told myself. There are so many people in this world now... and besides, I could just reset everything again, so I'm not doing anything bad, right? It still didn't feel right but... at least it was something I knew. Maybe it was the familiarity of cruelty, or the familiarity of hating myself. But it was familiar' Flowey looks upset but is hiding part of his face with his petals, he finishes with 'So for a second, I wanted to go back to something like that. But then you found me and...'. Papyrus looks at him concerned and tries to change the subject to make Flowey less upset, 'We were worried about you, Flowey, you were gone for a couple of days. The others are looking for you too. You can talk to us, just don't run away like that, okay?' Flowey doesn't reply, he seems lost in thought, and suddenly he cries. 'What is wrong with me? Why would I try to do that? I'm so disgusting...' he tells to himself. Papyrus sits down next to him and says 'I'll admit, it wasn't a good idea, but you didn't do it'. Flowey is trying to dry off his tears but he can't stop crying, he says 'Only because of you...'. Papyrus continues, 'But you made the choice. You didn't want to do it deep down'. Flowey isn't convinced, 'But I was going to anyway'. Papyrus tries again, 'But you didn't! You should be proud of that! You...', he sighs and continues, 'I get it, you feel guilty. I'm not saying you should feel okay about this or that you didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes guilt is necessary, it helps you realize your mistakes, it helps you grow' Flowey doesn't say anything, he keeps crying quietly, but he seems to be concentrated on what Papyrus is saying. Papyrus continues, 'Flowey, don't run away. Don't make yourself miserable and hide from everyone else, that's not going to help you or me or anyone. But you know what would? Being there, and try being better, no matter how small you might think your acts of kindness are. And if you make mistakes? You learn from them, that's all. That's what would really help' Flowey sighs and stays quiet for a second until he says, 'Okay'. Then he looks at Papyrus with a sad expression, 'Papyrus... I'm really sorry'. Papyrus only smiles at him and says 'I'm proud of your decision, Flowey'. Flowey smiles at him after that and says 'Golly, you always know what to say, huh?' and Papyrus replies with 'I'm a wise skeleton'. / end ID)