I Think For A Comeback, I'm Gonna Kick Off With A Brand New Slasher Story Before I Update Miracle Of

I think for a comeback, I'm gonna kick off with a brand new slasher story before I update Miracle of The Moonlight. (Warning: in this post I share minor details of my life that may be considered disturbing).

To be completely honest, one of the reasons why I wrote most of my stories the way I did (overly dramatic and full of trauma) is because that's all I knew life to be. I dealt with all kinds of bad people and situations that overwhelmed my life with negativity. So I tried to create positivity and comfort by writing my stories.

However, the new state I live in has provided me with a wholesome, safe, unbelievably kind environment that I could never be more grateful for. I love retail jobs, but the last retail job I had in AR I got stabbed nearly to death outside of the store, so after that I had to work in a secured factory for my own safety. But now I'm back in retail and I'm LOVING it. I'm loving my new home so much that I'm getting ideas from it.

So, for this new story idea, I am gonna base the plot a bit off my own environment (which is literally nothing new, lol). There is going to be mega canon-divergence, basically like an AU. Dbd characters will also be used. And we're gonna make a HUGE change- and this is something that I've wanted to try for a long time. Like in my slasher father drabbles, I'm gonna write the killers as good guys. Feel free to hate me all you want. I'm done trying to fit in.

The plot for this story has been inspired by the horror stories I've heard from countless people about the winters here. And it's also been inspired by the incredibly kind, loyal customers that I get. Here's the gist-

Summary: A blizzard is getting worse and worse outside. The radio station has put out an alert for an emergency city shutdown. People are to go home immediately. But you're stuck in the building along with several other people taking shelter from the storm. It's too rough to go outside. The doors are stuck open. It's getting cold. You need to stay calm and get warm. Luckily there are some strong people there to help.

Of course, as you probably can imagine, the strong people are the slashers. Just imagine the safety, admiration and warmth you would feel if they were to help? This story literally has no trauma in it besides the blistering cold I guess. It's just a fluffy, sweet, heartwarming one shot. I've been feeling so happy and I love my little coal miner customers so much that I couldn't help but to feel inspired.

All I can hope for now is that you may possibly enjoy my new story, my loves ❤️

haha, I know I should be writing this somewhere in like a more personal account or something but I don't have any at the moment but I'm just here to say how much I love your work.

Something about how you write the characters feel realistic in such ways, reader isn't portrayed as anyone strong or badass but usually just a simple person who went through hardships and honestly I don't see that alot! It feels different in a way when I read them (in a good way!!!), and it convinced me to write some ocs of mine like that also. The way you write hurt/comfort is exactly how I wanted it to be and honestly I see myself crying in some chapters then smile at the fluff parts like an idiot. It hits hard honestly! And it makes it better that almost all of them aren't sexual content as a fellow demisexual myself.

You've been a big inspiration to me in terms of writing. And everyday I can't seem to not take atleast a little glance to both your ao3 and tumblr account for updates; every update you make, makes me swing my feet in excitement like a little kid honestly.

I honestly also don't read book repeatedly since it feels weird to read it again when I already know what was happening but your books are always so descriptive that sometimes I still get surprised over little details you put in the story and some days, I see myself coming back to your books again, unfinished or not.

I've been meaningly want to send you an ask just filled with my thoughts and feelings about your work but I could never find the right words for it. But now I have, and I want to say that your works were one of the only things I've read when I was going through a hard time, where I felt like shit overall but your works always give me some sort of warmth in a way and I don't why I could relate with it so much.

tl;dr? Your works are amazing and it will never not stop putting a smile on my face:)

I honestly don't know what I'm saying anymore, pretty sure I just repeated some shit up, I'm just rambling at this point HAHAHA I hope you don't mind!! I just love your work so much, never give up on writing! You do great at what you do!!

Hi @ii4tokyo! Thank you so much for sharing your appreciation and feelings. It makes me so happy to know that my stories bring you joy.

You know this entire journey has been so bizarre to me. As someone who has bad people in their life, I always used to wish that those bad people would magically turn good, do better and just be loving and supportive. So when I saw my first slasher movie a few years ago, I felt hope. Hope because I realized that I could make that wish come true- granted fictional but it was still nice and comforting.

I took the slashers and I turned them into supporters. I never suspected that my work would become this important or meaningful to anyone, but it has. And while I don't feel like I truly belong in the slasher fandom, I do feel less alone knowing that there are people who've gone through similar experiences as me and have felt the same way that I've felt.

And now all I want is for my slasher account to be a safe place where all kinds of viewers can feel a sense of comfort, security and support. I understand pain deeply, and I know how I would want someone to respond to that pain, so I write it out with fictional characters. It's nice to know that the process that comforts me, comforts others.

Again, thank you so much for stopping by. I hope you're doing well ❤️ Hopefully soon I can provide you and many others with more emotional support slashers.

For your ask game, I’ve met a lot of writers who love to draw as well as write stories. Do you like to draw?

Oh, thank you so much for your question! Ha, I didn't think anyone would respond 💖

And, well, I do draw but I'm not like an artist who can create art from their own imagination. I'm an observational artist. I have to see exactly what I'm drawing like a person or a landscape or an object. Used to in school other kids would challenge me to see if I could draw their faces, lol, and I would. It's weird too because I can do the same thing with the violin and flute. I don't need music notes. I just need to hear/see someone else play the instrument and then I can copy them. But it would be nice if I could draw the crazy stuff inside my head, but sadly all that creativity goes into words, not drawing.

Again, thank you so much for your question!

Slashers as fathers with a child/reader.

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile. (If you wanna ship Hannibal and Will together or view them as just friends, it's completely up to you).

Summary: The slasher fathers comforting their child/reader after they just got home from surgery.

Some of you are probably thinking "really, Weirdo? This is gonna be a thing now?" And my answer is absolutely! Hey, when you grow up in a rough environment, some times you just wanna immerse yourself into a reality where you're innocent, happy, safe, accepted and loved. And so thus I present these fatherly slasher drabbles. I hope they bring you peace and happiness.

Freddy

After you got home from your surgery, Freddy hadn't been prepared for just how emotional and clingy you would become, but he didn't mind, and he learned how to adjust straight away. He had already called into work to report a few days off so that he could provide you with extensive care.

Not once had you left his side. All day you had been attached to him, whimpering and groaning in small remnants of pain. It tugged at his heart and made him feel even more protective than what he already was. If only he could take your pain and fear away.

He had been tending to your needs all day. Fixing you sippy cups filled with broth since you couldn't eat whole foods yet. Holding you against his chest so that he could kiss your forehead and rub your back while mumbling loving reassurances to you. Coloring pictures and watching cartoons with you.

"Daddy... Do you love me?" You asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

Freddy, helping to make a wall of pillows around the edge of the bed, looked to you and said, "More than anything, sweetie. You are my world. You know that."

You whimpered, hugging a pillow against your chest. You were hurting, and you couldn't help but to seek reassurance from him. "You won't leave me... right?" You look to him sadly.

Freddy walked over to you and knelt down, cupping your cheeks and leaning in to kiss your head. "Never. Daddy will always be here for you no matter what. You hear me?"

Nodding, you frown a bit and stare down at the floor, "Yes, but I... I'm so scared, daddy, I-I don't wanna go back there again."

"I know," He spoke softly, gently squeezing your shoulder, "And you're not going to, alright? It's over. You don't have to go back. You're here with daddy now. Everything's gonna be alright, ok?"

"Ok," You whisper.

Freddy coaxed the pillow from your arms and pulled you in for a hug, "I love you, baby. More than anything. You know that, right?"

"I love you more, daddy," You smile big, soaking up his loving attention like a sponge.

Freddy pulled away and made a goofy thinking face, his eyes squinting at you, "Mm... Couldn't possibly. Now, let's get you in bed."

Smiling in joy at your giggles, Freddy made sure to be extra gentle with you while helping you to climb onto the bed. After shutting the lights off, he climbed in with you, barely laying on his back before you were snuggling right into his side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, wrapping an arm around you, his fingers massaging through your hair against your head.

It felt nice and had you whimpering in soothing relaxation, "Hurts..."

"It'll feel better soon, sweetie," Freddy kissed your temple and pulled a blanket over both of you.

"Please don't let those scary people take me again," You mumble into his chest, your hands shaking a bit as you fought against crying, "Please."

"No one's going to take you, (y/n)," Freddy smiled a bit, fond of your adorable little fears. "You're home now and you're with me, and I'm gonna take good care of you until you feel better, alright?"

"Ok, daddy," You say softly, seeking comfort and safety by snuggling into his chest.

Freddy covered you up and cradled you against him. It broke his heart knowing that you were in pain, but he would always be there to comfort and love you no matter what.

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

Throughout the whole day after your dad brought you home from the hospital, you had taken turns latching onto him and your two uncles. You were very clingy and emotional, endlessly seeking their comfort, security and reassurance.

At work, Lester and Bo took turns running the gas station. Right now Lester sat in the bed of his truck, reclined against the side with you curled up in his lap, a blanket covering you as you both peacefully snoozed.

"Hey, Les? Hey, wake up," Someone demanded in a whisper tone, a hand nudging his shoulder.

Lester woke up with a groan, his arms tightening around you as he creaked open his eyes. When he saw who had interrupted his beauty sleep, he pouted and shook his head, whispering, "Aw, c'mon now. Don't ya got nothin' better to do?"

"If by 'better' ya mean spendin' some time with my child? Then yeah, I most certainly do," Bo reached in to pry his brother's arms off of you, "Now get your ass in there. Mans waitin' on his transmission."

"Lester do this, Lester do that," Lester mocked quietly, sticking his tongue out and glaring at his older sibling, "'I'm a killjoy who thinks he can boss everyone 'round jus' 'cause I got cool lookin' hair'"

"You don't shut your trap, an' I'm gonna-"

"Mm, daddy?" You roused from Lester's lap, your body immediately tensing as you practically jumped upwards in fear, "Daddy? Wh-what's going on? What's happening? Y-you're not taking me back, are you? Oww..."

"Whoa, hey now," Both Bo and Lester nearly bumped heads trying to hug you.

Lester was the one who won, sitting up straight with his legs hanging over the tailgate, "Hey now, critter bug, ya can't be movin' 'round like that. You'll hurt yourself."

"That's right," Bo stood in front of you and Lester, one hand reaching out to cup your reddened face, "An' quit thinkin' we're gonna take ya back. We ain't. Your surgery is over with. Ya don't needa' be worrying yourself no more, alright?"

You were teary eyed, one hand holding your stitched up, bandaged wound as you nod. "It was jus' so scary... And it hurts."

The little crackle of sadness in your voice broke both Lester and Bo's hearts. "I know, critter, I know. But you're gonna feel better soon, ok?" Bo went to pry Lester's hands away so that he could gently hold you against his chest, "Jus' focus on daddy's heartbeat, remember? It'll make everything better."

"My heartbeat could'a worked..." Lester grumbled, crossing his arms.

You whimpered while doing as he said, your little hands holding onto his neck as your head rested against his chest. You breathed in his comforting, familiar scent and listened to his heartbeat, feeling it thud against your upper body. It felt nice. You were safe and cozy. The pain from your surgery subsided.

"I... I wanna feel Uncle Les' heartbeat too," You say.

"Awww, thought ya'd never ask," Lester grinned and went to hug you from behind, his hands going to rest on Bo's waist.

"Eh-eh, wh-whoa-wait jus' a minute-I..." Bo's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he growled in frustration, but hearing the laughter it roused from you put a small smile on his face. He loves you more than anything, (y/n), and he'll always, always be there for you.

Michael + Aunt Laurie

Ever since you got out of the hospital, you had been attached to him like velcro. Off and on you would have emotional spells, complaining about pain and how scary the experience was. Michael knew that the doctors had technically helped you, but he still kind of just wanted to, you know... Throttle them. Just a little?

Right now he was sitting on the couch with you sitting sideways on his lap. You were reclined back against his arm, your head tilted forward a bit as he held your sippy-cup to your mouth like a mother would hold a bottle of milk out for her baby. Laurie had explained to him how some children who had surgery often acted younger than what they were due to the trauma of the experience.

But Michael didn't mind babying you. In fact he really enjoyed it. It comforted you and it was extremely endearing to him- reminding him of when you were younger. So helpless, small and vulnerable. He would do anything to protect you and keep you safe.

"Mm?" You tap on your dad's hand.

Michael pulled the sippy cup away and blinked at you, wondering what was wrong.

"I'm sleepy. Can we do the jacket thing again, please?" You ask, nuzzling against his chest and mumbling, "It's been forever."

Oh yes. The 'jacket thing'. Michael nodded, setting your sippy-cup aside and going to coax you off his lap. Because of your stitches, he didn't want to carry you around too much despite every overprotective cell in his body screaming at him to keep you as close to him as possible, and he held your hand on the way to his bedroom.

Fetching the very large jacket from the closet, Michael put it on and went to lay back on the bed after helping you climb aboard. Then you went to lay on top of him, your hands looping underneath his upper arms as your face lay comfortably against his chest. Once you were situated, Michael stretched the jacket over the top of you and zipped it up most of the way, clasping you both securely together.

This was a habit Michael had started ever since you were an infant. He would use jackets to hold you close to his chest, obsessed with keeping you safe and secure at all times. He couldn't help it. He had experience with so many bad people. The thought of leaving you unguarded for even a second drove him crazy with anxiety.

"Daddy?" You murmur against his chest, "Did I do something bad? Is that why I have to hurt?"

Michael shook his head. His hands quickly went to cup your face, his fingers brushing through your hair. No. Of course not. Why would you ask something like that?

"Then why? Why did I have to-" You hiccuped, pushing yourself against him as much as you could as if he were a safety fort of pillows.

"Because you had a blockage, honey," Laurie explained as she brought you your freshly made sippy-cup and Michael a glass of water, "And some times stuff like that happens to people. It doesn't mean that you did anything bad."

Michael looked to his sister with gratitude. Gratitude that fell into irritation when she pulled her over-stuffed camera out and quickly took a picture of the two of you. "Yep, that one's going on the fridge."

Rolling his eyes, Michael brushed your face before lifting his hands to explain to you through sign-language how he was sorry that you had to go through this, but him and Laurie were right here beside you and they were going to do their best to make sure that you were taken care of.

Hannibal + Will

Will knocked on the door. Whenever it opened he was met with a sight that had his mouth gaping. Hannibal stood there, his hair messy, his tie uneven, his vest crooked, and his shoes gone. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, but even then his expression was calm and full of understanding.

"Good evening, Will. Thank you for coming," He whispered, inviting him in.

"So... It's that bad, huh?" Will whispered back, eying your sleeping figure from where it was being held against Hannibal's waist, "They okay? And-uh... Are 'you' okay?"

"The surgery went well. (y/n) was released earlier this afternoon. Aside from some discomfort and pain, they have been... 'Attached'," Hannibal chuckled fondly, turning to give your snoozing self a loving stare, "As for me? Well, I haven't used the restroom in over eight hours, give or take."

"Wow, ok," Will nodded and went to lift his arms out, "Yeah. You go use the restroom and shower if you want- probably throw in a glass or two of wine while you're at it, and I'll just-yeah, I'll just take them for a bit."

"Thank you, Will," Hannibal said gratefully, carefully transporting you over to his best friend, "Be gentle with them."

"I will," Will nodded, gently holding you against his chest and rocking you softly, "We'll be waiting for you on the couch."

"Thank you," Hannibal bowed slightly in tremendous appreciation and politely dismissed himself to go use the restroom, shower and change. Thank goodness he had Will. Will was your second favorite person besides him, and he figured that if you were to wake up then you might not mind being not-attached to him for a bit.

And it's not that Hannibal minded you being attached. Not at all. He just needed some time to get himself cleaned up properly. He couldn't do that when you refused to let go of his arm.

This whole day had been a fiasco. You were unbelievably emotional after the surgery, constantly fearing being taken back, and complaining about the pain. You were so afraid and uncomfortable that you even apologized to him and promised to never do anything bad- even though you hadn't done anything bad in the first place- just as long as he never took you back there again.

And that's why you clung to him so strongly. You sought his constant praise, reassurance and security, and he had supplied it in generous amounts. All day he had tended to your needs; feeding you, reading to you, holding you close and watching movies. Anything to make you happy.

By the time Hannibal had showered, downed some beverage and changed into something more comfortable, he walked into his living room and felt his heart get struck with warmth by what he saw.

You were sitting in Will's lap, your tired eyes calmly watching the TV as you sucked your thumb. On the table sat some take-out from one of Hannibal's favorite restaurants- obviously ordered by Will. Buh-bye midnight cooking.

Will locked eyes with him before you did, and Hannibal took the chance to quickly mouth something to him.

When you noticed him, you gasped happily and reached out for him, "Daddy!"

"Hello my little lamb, how are you feeling?" He asked, sitting in the space beside Will. He was humbled that you didn't try to get out of his lap straight away.

"Okay," You say softly, looking up at Will who leaned down and peppered playful kisses against your head, "Will said you were stinky and that you needed to potty."

"Did he?" Hannibal cocked his head at his best friend.

Will laughed in fondness. Hannibal joined him, so very appreciative of him and his support. And he was also appreciative of you for listening to him and understanding. All three of you loved each other so much. It was such a beautiful family circle.

...

I doubt anyone will answer, but it's just a fun question... Are there any other slashers that you would like to see be written as a father figure?

Killers' with a reader during bath time. Non-binary reader.

Warnings: Nudity. Non-sexual romance. Implied kissing and touching.

...

Jason

Most of the time Jason hates baths or anything to do with water. But if you're in it with him? Then he can compromise.

He always sits up straight and still in the warm tub, his mask off and body bare before you, completely vulnerable. He doesn't like to move because the water scares him, so he settles for watching you as you go about creating bubbles and adding scented oils to the tub. It's pleasant and he enjoys it.

Jason likes to touch you for reassurance that you won't let him drown. A hand on your shoulder, knee, arm or waist; he just likes knowing that you're there for him. Some times he might even pull you into his lap and just hold you for a while, bask in your safe and loving presence.

He loves it when you wash him. During bath time, Jason gives you all the wheels while he sits back and watches. When you use the soft, suddy loofah to scrub his body, it's utter bliss and makes him feel good. Your praise is an added bonus too, making him gladly submit his body in any way you wanted.

He gets transfixed on your bath products. Is that a glitter bath bomb? Whoa. Colored bath beads? Can you use purple? He loves purple. Seeing the water turn purple and glittery will have his adorable eyes going wide in awe. Just look at the water, (y/n), it's magical. You're amazing.

He's a good boy and he'll want to return the favor by washing you. His big hands will scrub every inch of you, making sure that you're nice and clean. Seeing your blissed out expression when he scrubs your back and head makes him happy. He's glad you're enjoying yourself.

The best way to end is by holding you close for a while, feeling your body pressed against his as he held you in his arms. With you around, Jason loved the water.

Wesker

Wesker's preference when it comes to baths is strictly to lay back, submerge himself into the hot water and relax. After a long day at work, relaxing is all he wants to do.

Most of the time Wesker lays back and watches you in your place between his legs as you pour in muscle relaxing Epsom salt and night-time bubble bath. So considerate. You were always thinking about his well-being, and he loved it.

He enjoys listening to you as you blab about your day- shows you had watched, things you had cleaned, ideas you had hatched, ect... Your innocence is a refreshment to him and it makes him feel a type of happiness that his job just can't mimic.

When it comes to you washing your own body, Wesker absolutely loved to watch. Seeing your wet body move around as you covered it with glistening suds was beyond enamoring to him. Some times he would even ask you to stand up and wash yourself, give him the full view so that he could admire every inch of you.

He's not really one to care for childish bath products but he does get a kick out of how much you enjoy them. Seeing you get excited over a new box of assorted bath bombs- which he totally didn't order for you by the way!- he just adores how excited you get. And that same excitement transfers to the bath whenever you happily go to try out your new water toys.

Bath massages. Oh, there's nothing better. Feeling your wet hands press against his tense, sore muscles was utter ecstacy. Expect lots of groans because he was a very knotted up man, and he tends to make loud noises when you work out those knots with your expert, caring hands. God, you had no idea how much he loved you.

To settle the end, Wesker likes to pull your body on top of his and have you lay against him for a while. Submerged wet cuddles? Yes please.

Frank

Oh God... Frank is an absolute child when it comes to the bathtub. Because he was deprived of such innocent luxuries throughout his childhood years, he can't help but to enjoy the opportunity to have fun in the bathtub with you.

Expect everything that was Satan's equivalent of a bathroom mess nightmare pack. Bath bombs, water guns, water crayons, colored bath beads, bubble bath. Everything! He had it all- it's actually kind of cute going to the store with him because he always wanted to check out the bath stuff. Don't tease him though or he'll get frumpy.

Frank loves playing games, so get out those fucking water crayons, baby. If you weren't ever scared of him before, then you should be now, because you are his human canvas. Come on, scoot closer, he wants to draw a heart on your cheek- news flash! It's actually a miniature penis. Let's not forget a colored beard to match!

You can't escape him.

Ever heard of bathtub roulette? Of course you have. It's where you fill the gun with soapy water, play a game of tic-tac-toe, and whoever loses gets a shot of soapy water in the face. Ouch if your eyes get hit.

Despite his childishness, Frank does love relaxing and holding you close. Your legs intertwined as he held your face and kissed your lips? Oh, he could do it for hours, even after the water was freezing cold. You're his gorgeous, beloved angel, and he was never letting you go.

Ending a bath with Frank is less romantic than you probably want to believe because there's a lot of cleaning up to do. And yes, he is childish enough to run away naked so that he doesn't have to take responsibility. Lucky you.

Michael

Talk about a statue. During bath time, this man is a brick wall. Like always, he sits at his end of the tub with that very neutral, monotonous look on his face.

Michael isn't against baths. Not at all. In fact he finds them very interesting and fun- except for that time he accidentally ate a "bath treat". Yeah, he knew it was a miniature bar of soap, but why in the hell was it shaped exactly like a gummy bear!?

He finds himself fixated on whatever you're doing. Michael and you have a deep understanding of each other, and he appreciates how you show and explain to him what all kinds of new products you had bought. A double loofah with a rainbow handle? Cute. Colored foam soap? Expect a beard.

Michael loves, loves, loves his rubber ducky collection. Every time he takes a bath with you, he carefully sets each of his duckies in the water one at a time. He may not show it, but every time you gifted him a new rubber ducky, he mentally flies over the roof.

And he feels the same kind of excitement with surprise bath bombs that have little toys hidden inside. Those were his favorite. So far he had some sharks, some dinosaurs, a pearl ring, and a bunny. It was just so fun watching the bath bombs dissolve and reveal an adorable item from all the magical colors within.

He gets frumpy when you try to wash yourself. Michael is very protective and caring of you and he likes to take care of you himself, and that means scrubbing and washing your body. You can't deny... It feels really, really nice.

Seeing your relaxed, sleepy face is the perfect end to a perfect bath for him.

Jeffrey

Lazy. Completely and utterly lazy. Depending on the day, baths with Jeffrey could either be very lively or very boring.

Prepare to find yourself squished between his legs at the front of the tub by the faucet, because Jeffrey practically prides himself in taking up most of the space. He chuckles a lot, teasing you and squeezing you between his legs, tickling you with his toes. He loves it when you get all frustrated and defensive, and yet you're still helplessly squished/trapped.

He thinks it's cute when you get on your knees and lean against his belly, your faces closer together so that you can talk, hold hands and caress each other's faces. Your so damn adorable, he could just eat you up.

One of his favorite things, though, is when you slather yourself up with oil. Oh yes. There's nothing Jeffrey loves more than seeing your gorgeous body glistening smooth and slippery. He enjoyed sitting back, licking his lips while watching you languidly touch yourself. It drove him mad.

After enjoying the show you put on, Jeffrey would sit up and touch you himself, squeezing and rubbing different parts of your body for as long as he pleased. Remember, he's obsessed with soft things, and when your body is oiled up it becomes prominent that he worshipped you for hours.

Some times Jeffrey's insecurities got to him, however, and he would refuse taking a bath with you. It took lots of lovin, gentle coaxing and praise, but you always won him over with your caring words and amazing acceptance. How could he ever ask for anyone better?

Ending a bath with Jeffrey usually involved lots of loving touches and cuddles, for you are his and he is yours.

Herman

The ultimate God of baths? Look no further than Herman Carter.

This man is unbelievably romantic and will have you wait in your bedroom until he has the perfect set-up created. Like a king/queen walking the red carpet, you would be presented with everything abundantly cheesy and romantic.

Dim lights, scented candles, freakin rose petals- all of it you would follow until you arrived at the bathroom where Herman lay beautifully naked and submerged in the bubbly tub, waiting for you.

Herman smiles at you and beckons you closer, enjoying the sight of you getting undressed right before his eyes. You're clumsiness while getting into the tub with him amuses him and fills him with fondness and joy. He loves spoiling you like this.

During bath time, Herman loves pulling you close and cradling you against him, his lips kissing whatever happened to be in reach- your lips, your face, the back of your neck, or your shoulders. He loved worshipping your body for every second that it was touching him.

Lots and lots of touching. Herman treats your body like it's made out of gold. Constantly he touches you, fondles you and massages you. Praise drips from his lips as he pulls you back against him and rubs his big, calloused hands up and down your chest. You're so beautiful, (y/n), and you're his.

Herman loves taking baths with you because it gives him the opportunity to be intimate under a new light. He got to spoil you, wash you, worship your body and make you feel good. Your happiness was all he needed to make himself happy.

Even though he doesn't want the bath to end, when it does, Herman rinses you off, helps you out and dries you off. Oh, don't think that just because the bath is over he still doesn't have a lot left to give.

This isn't the first time I've gotten a comment like this. People have also messaged me directly to criticize my angst and my supposed "inability to write anything fluffy or positive". I get it. My stories aren't very happy nor are they meant to be enjoyed by everyone, but that doesn't mean that I'm incapable of writing fluff.

To prove it and to kind of make myself feel better, I'm posting some comments I've received from my other two archive accounts.

I AM capable of writing fluff. I AM capable of making people laugh. And I AM capable of delivering happiness.