This here is my main! I met my wife on my Zim blog!
I like to put my name into blog titles, so...
Hello! I'm Mym! I'm in my 30's and am still as obsessed with cartoons as I have ever been. I write fanfics like this one:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Which is a story about Angel Dust forming a deal with Husker. There's gore, sex, angst, and the Backrooms! Husk is just a Lil Guy, and this should be recognized.
At the risk of sounding anti-intellectual, I think that college should be free and also not a requirement for employment outside of highly specialized career fields
technically you can, if you don't care about degrees.
Free Harvard courses.
Free Courses from Stanford.
Free Courses from MIT.
Free courses from Yale.
Free courses from Princeton.
Free courses on Coursera.
Free Courses on EDx
Free Courses on Alison
For paid, there's The Great Courses+/Wonderium. 20$ a month for unlimited courses.
When searching, the phrases you're looking for are Massive Open Online Courses (MOOCs), or you can do a general search of say, "free online college courses."
Oh, and so you don't get surprised like I did, have an avoid: Hillsdale College is a conservative Christian site and not a valid MOOC place. Sign up with them and you will get things like THIS IS WHY THE LEFT IS TURNING YOUR KIDS TRANS AND GAY in your inbox.
i’ve bought from several of these myself and i know they’re all well known and well acclaimed self owned toy makers. fuck bad dragon, get a way cooler and more ethical toy from any of these places. I esp love love love the ceela model from strange bedfellas but they and a lot of these places offer knotted toys, ovipositor toys, toys that have cum pumps, and of course monster dicks.
Neotori on Etsy is also fantastic, I have 3 sizes of their Mundir. It’s a knotted toy but the surface is VELVETY smooth which helps if you have more a more sensitive lining (like from testosterone, in my case).
I didn’t compile this, it’s by @fewhoneydew (on Twitter and Reddit), but here is a very well maintained masterpost (links to a Google Doc) for those looking for Bad Dragon alternatives!
There is also @safefantasytoys which has a list, and @fantasypackerreviews if you’re looking for packers specifically (rather than toys).
Vulpini Design is also a good one! Very quick response times when I had questions and quick shipping, as well as beautiful toys. The default firmness is perfect imo but you can customize that :)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 8) Dream a Little Dream
Husker wasn't sure where he was. Most areas in Hell had a reddish glow. Wherever he'd gone, it was a guarantee that the realm would be warm and, well, Hellish. He supposed bars were often dark and had specialty lighting, but never like this.
No.
Instead, the room was bathed in sickly yellows. He pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as he tried to steady himself with his wings. His tail whipped as he remembered.
“Right,” he said shakily, tucking his half wing into his back. That was all that remained. He looked around as the light above him flickered, making it hard to focus his eyes. He squinted, then covered his right eye, hiding his cat pupil from the room. His spider eyes focused with more ease.
That was inconvenient. Husk kept his cat eye closed and used his hands to steady himself against the wall. The cane he'd been given was nowhere in sight.
In fact…
…Nothing but walls and lights above him were in sight. He shuddered and pulled himself towards the only door in the room. He steadied himself onto the heavy lumber, heaving it open with a grunt.
His mouth felt dry. The next room was just as empty, just as yellow, and just as disorienting in its flickering. Husk's tail flicked nervously, and he made a decision. He cut through his shirt with his claw, ripping a long strip off the hem. He wrapped it around his cat eye like an eye patch and relaxed his features.
He took a moment to try and steady his uneven breath. He was panting.
“Calm down, calm down,” Husk said, not daring to speak above a mutter. He made his way painfully slowly to the next door.
He pushed the second door open, same as the first, and felt panic.
Another room with nothing.
Husk walked faster, hands rushing over themselves on the wall.
Another door.
Another empty room.
And again.
And again.
Husk tripped over himself and stumbled to the next door. He paused, sobbing breathlessly as he laid against it. It would be another room!
He shook his head, feeling dizzy and hopeless. Husk sank to the floor, holding his head. What the fuck was going on?!
Husk held his breath as his ears snapped to an upright position.
Distantly…he heard, “zzt…zzt…zzt…” like the sound of a zipper slowly being dragged.
His heart slammed in his chest, making Husk tremble in fear. He stared down the open doorway behind him, sure he saw something.
Husk scrambled and opened the door, closing it behind him and bracing against it. He whimpered, looking over his shoulder. He hiccuped in relief when he found himself in a hallway.
Not willing to stay still, Husk dropped to all fours and ran. He ran. He ran, he ran, he ran!!
And then Husk skid to a stop.
Before him was near blackness…even his spider eyes struggled to see. He adjusted the eye patch, revealing the cat eye and covering the other. In the inky hall was a stairwell.
He didn't have time to think, hearing the creeeak of a door behind him. Husk shot downwards like a bullet. He desperately hoped down would lead to a door out. He leapt as he heard a faster zipper sound, intending to glide on his wings.
He fell down the stairs in a rolling heap. Husk couldn't breathe! He couldn't fly! He couldn't breathe!!
“Whiskers?”
“I-I can't -” Husk tried to find his footing.
“Husker!”
Husk opened his eyes, pushing back as he gasped for air.
“You good?” Angel asked, shoulders shaking in a small laugh. “I think you were chokin’ yourself on my fluff. Sorry, I was just so involved in this stupid podcast.”
Husk looked around, dazed and confused. He touched his head, surprised to find no eye patch. “I'm…okay.” They were back in the hotel in Angel’s room.
Angel frowned a little. “Didja have another bad dream there, lil guy?”
Husk let out a loud puff of breath and flopped back against Angel’s chest. “Morphine just makes me sleep like shit.”
“Well, I bet washin’ it down with whiskey ain't helpin’ at all.” Angel hugged his lower arms around him. He used his upper pair to work on a crochet project. “I fuckin’ hate morphine, too…glad I'm feelin’ all better.” He adjusted a stitch and inspected it before continuing.
“Your back still hurtin’?”
Husk turned his head, reaching up to lightly bat at the square. “Always does…I'll be fine.” He felt more stable. “What're you making?”
“A sweater. For my favorite Kitten.” Angel squeezed him. He lightly swatted his hand, trying not to melt as it made Husk mrow.
“I have fur,” Husk said. “I don't need a sweater.”
“Yeah, but I figured you might get cold without your…uh…” Angel fumbled and stopped talking.
“My wings.”
Angel winced on his behalf.
“You don't have to pussy foot around the topic…it's not like I don't know.” Husk pushed himself to sit up.
Angel felt his insides ache. “I already miss you hurtin' me all night with those fuckin’ things.”
Husk climbed off the bed and wobbled. He took three careful steps forward and grabbed the cassette tape from Angel’s vanity. “You got a player in here?”
“Aside from me?” Angel asked, his grin weak. He tried not to make a sad face as he watched Husk sway and stumble. “I don't. No. I haven't had to get one of these in like thirty years.”
Husk took a moment to process. “So you've been in a contract for thirty years…Jesus, Angel,” he sighed, “you went through it.”
Angel accepted the deflection. “Sure did. And I made myself the most popular demon in Hell.” He got out of bed and set his crochet aside. “Do we got a tape player anywhere?”
“My room. It's a fuckin’ disaster in there…I'll bring it to the common room.” Husk shuffled his feet and glanced around, his half wing stretching uselessly. He snorted softly when Angel offered his cane to him. He grumbled a, “thank you,” and handed Angel the cassette.
“Don't you want help grabbin’ it?” Angel asked, a nervous knot in his stomach.
“I'm not going to keel over the second you stop watching me, Angel,” Husk told him. “I can grab it fine. It's just taking a little time to figure out my footing. I’m okay.”
Angel crossed his arms over his middle. “You sure?”
“Yes.” Husk reached out, offering his palm. When Angel set a dainty hand in his own, Husk rewarded his fingers with kisses. “Why don't you pretty yourself up. It always makes you feel better.”
Angel smiled more sincerely. “Yeah, that's a good point.”
“After we listen to this tape, we can start digging through that mystery basket, right? I'm pretty sure we ate all of the snacks,” Husker used his cane to steady himself as he leaned down, scratching Fat Nuggets on his little head. “I'll get changed, too–and no, I don't need help.”
“You should bring some of those clothes in here already,” Angel called after him as Husk left the room.
Husk closed the door behind him, trying not to acknowledge the rock forming in the pit of his stomach. He looked back and forth in the hall, verifying that it was, in fact, red and full of random items. He shook his head, reminding himself that it was just a nightmare.
Walking to his room took more time than he would have liked. “This is worse than when I had that hernia,” he complained to himself. He glanced around nervously, feeling like he wasn't alone…and then he heard it:
“Zzt…zzt…zzt…”
Husk nearly jumped out of his skin. “FUCK!” He swatted behind him with his cane.
Vaggie ducked back, staring at him tiredly. “...Can I help you?” She kept her hands on her sweatshirt, working the zipper back onto its track. “Or are you going to fix my damn shirt with that thing?” She grunted and yanked at it.
Husk breathed heavily, bringing his cane back down to lean on it. He closed his eyes, flattening his ears to his skull.
“Uhhh…do you need help?” Vaggie rephrased. Finally she zipped up her sweatshirt, “fuck, that took forever.”
“Mm…” Husk lifted his chin and sighed. “No…” he tilted his head back and forth, wrinkling his nose. The idea of being alone in the hallway left him uneady. “Actually, yes. I need something from my room. Could I borrow you to carry it?*
Vaggie set her hands on her hips. “Yeah, that sounds reasonable.”
Husk nodded in agreement and kept down the hall.
“I get what you're going through…If I wasn't a fucking idiot, I would have had a cane when my wings were ripped off, too,” Vaggie said as though the conversation was as casual as the weather.
Husk’s tail flicked. “I thought you just kept your wings hidden.”
“Nah,” Vaggie chuckled, tucking her hands into her sweatshirt pockets. “This is going to sound cliche and stupid, but I earned them back when I realized how much I wanted to protect Charlie. I didn't have them for a few years.”
“I'm not trying to rub it in,” Vaggie continued. “But losing my wings was awful. I felt like I'd lost my legs. I bet it feels cold and like you're exposed.”
Husk's ears flicked back and he sighed. “You hit the nail on the head.”
“I met Charlie right after it happened. I threw myself into her. It helped, having someone to pour my heart into.” Vaggie smiled a little and shrugged. “But as far as security…I wore a lot of jackets for awhile. It sort of helped. For the first few weeks, I walked around with a blanket around my shoulders constantly.”
Husk nodded, thinking of the sweater Angel was making for him. “All of my jacket and shirts have holes for my wings…” he opened his door and frowned.
“Yeah…Charlie and I noticed that when we were grabbing you some clothes for the hospital. Sorry about the mess…Charlie got out of hand.” Vaggie frowned.
“I've had a mess before…I should suck it up and let Niffty clean it up. Wait here a sec?” Husk asked. Vaggie nodded, leaning against the wall.
Husk made quick work of changing. He stood for a moment in the quiet, hands reaching back to touch the ruins on his back. He curled his tail around himself, taking deep breaths. It ached. It ached to his very core, like he was naked and exposed. Vaggie was probably the only person who understood.
He grabbed his cane and the little tape deck. He stepped out, offering the handle to Vaggie.
She didn't mention how he could have easily carried it without her. Bless her.
“Oh, shit, I made it down here before you!” Angel announced as Husk finally came into the room. “Damn, you look so hot in a suit coat,” he praised.
Husk looked Angel over, really taking him in. “New dress?” He asked weakly, steadying both hands on his cane.
Angel did a spin, showing off how it billowed wide. “You like it? I told Charlie to get somethin’ retro and polka dotted.”
Vaggie looked between them and set the tape deck down on the coffee table. “I'm leaving before you two defile our couch.”
“Oh, sweetcheeks, you think I haven't done that already?” Angel shimmied his shoulders.
“Wh-with whom?!” Vaggie shouted.
“Just me, Baby. I took a little video of some –” Angel giggled as Vaggie hurried out of the room, hands over her ears. “Oh, she's too easy,” he laughed to himself. He looked at Husk, still grinning. “I'm reading you, too, Whiskers. I'm thinking of some little glovelettes in the next look.”
Angel felt giddy when he saw Husker grip his cane. “What if we put off this little tape and took a mornin’ to consummate our marriage, mm?”
“I…” It sounded tempting, but Husk’s thoughts drifted to the sickly yellow rooms.
“Husk?” Angel crossed the room towards him. “You need to sit? Blood rush too fast?”
“...side effects of the morphine,” Husk mumbled. He let Angel lead him to sit, enjoying that his small frame was pulled into his lap.
“Ugh, I hate that shit. It slows me down too much.” Angel hugged his arms around Husk as he leaned over, putting the tape into the player. “I bet this is gonna be confusin.”
Husk leaned into him. “Do we remember what the questions were?”
“Oh. They're on the tape…tiny little writin on the front of it. I typed them into my phone while we listen. First one is…How did Angel Dust, that's me,” he said with a grin, “break his, my, contract with Valentino?” He pressed play and leaned back with him.
“Mind if I crochet?” Angel asked, pulling it out again.
“Not at all. Is this for…” he glanced around to make sure they were alone, “the mommy thing?*
“Nah, I just like it.” Angel grinned. “Plus I found some yarn layin’ around and thought it felt nice. But is this doin' it for ya? Does it make you all hot and bothered?”
Husk refused to answer. Instead he focused on the music. “This is Taylor Swift.”
Angel groaned. “Of course it is.” He rolled his eyes. “A fuckin’ break up song?”
“No, this one's a love song.” Husk picked up one of the balls of yarn, rolling it between his paws. He hummed quietly along.
“You know it?” Angel asked, incredulous. “What's it called?”
“Invisible String. It's about being tied to someone by fate.” Husk resisted the urge to chew the yarn.
“Huh.” Angel considered, smiling a little. “Well…I mean…that's a cute idea. Like I'm connected to ya somehow.”
Husk touched his neck, feeling the weight of the chain between them. He purred softly.
“I like it, too,” Angel said, “I feel it whenever you grab it…like you're holdin’ onto me.” He squeezed Husk suddenly and firmly. “I ain't ever felt this good.”
Husk purred louder, unable to help his grin.
The song moved on and Husk started laughing. “The magic was sassy with you,” he said as The Shirelles began singing.
Angel let Husk flop back into his lap. “If she just answered my damned questions every once in awhile…” he grumbled.
“I know Mama Said isn't about telling you off, but it may as well be.” Husk nestled into his chest again.
“Whateva'...so are you actually a lap cat, or have you always been this this way?”
“It's a recent development,” Husk closed his eyes peacefully…he opened them again and frowned as Lucifer shouted into the room.
“Fellas!! Are we listening to some hip, new tunes?!” Lucifer sat on the arm of the couch behind Angel.
“It's a ‘magical’ playlist,” Angel frowned as the music changed to “Loser” by Beck.
“...is the magic the random words all mashed together?” Lucifer asked, gesturing at the tape deck.
“...Did magic destroy your finger?” Husk asked, brows knit together.
“Oh!” Lucifer pulled his hand back. “Oh! I just happened to…weed whack it off.”
Angel and Husk started at him.
“You know. This song is awfully rude, calling him a loser. I think Charlie would be upset to hear it.”
Angel and Husk looked at each other. “It's magic,” they said in varied tones.
“It's rude. And your questions about my obvious body horror are rude. I'm leaving.” Lucifer stood up and walked off in a huff.
“What the hell was that about?” Angel asked. He looked at his phone. “I guess the answer makes sense for this song…we're both fuckin’ losers.”
“In our contract, I'm starting to feel like a winner,” Husk answered, making Angel’s insides flip.
“Listen, you're too much,” Angel giggled and kissed the top of his head. He started laughing harder as Cake by the Ocean started. “Shit, this song’s about fuckin’. Guess that's the bite in the ass I was askin’ about…you eat ass?” He teased.
“Are you asking me too?” Husk flirted. Angel covered his face with the crochet, flustered.
“I'm tryna do somethin’” he mumbled.
“You asked!” Husk defended himself, pawing it back off of his face. “Be careful with that thing. I don't want to ruin it.”
“Listen, Husk, your face isn't that bad. It isn't gonna destroy my work.” Angel shook the to-be sweater above his face. “Oh! Hey!!” He yanked it higher as Husk tried to bite it. “Damn, okay, I'm wrong. You don't gotta be,” he noticed how big Husk’s pupils were, “rude…”
Angel grabbed one of the balls of yarn from Husk’s lap. He bounced it in his palm, enjoying how big cat eyes followed it. “Go…Get it!!” He chucked it to the center of the room, coughing as Husk kicked off his stomach to chase it. “Oh, dumb choice!”
Husk rolled over himself, catching the ball in his teeth. He mrowled and kicked at it with his bottom feet.
Angel held his stomach with one hand, scrambling for his phone with the other. He was going to film every moment he fucking could. “This is the best day of my death.”
Husk stopped and glared at him. “That was dirty.” He pushed to sit on his knees as the song moved on. He stared at the machine, listening as a classic began to play. His mutilated wing twitched.
“Stars shining bright above you,” the tape deck played, “Night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you…’”
“Dirty is my specialty,” Angel set his phone to record from the table, pointing it at the center of the room. “Listen, Husker…I know you love Ms. Fitzgerald…dance with me.” Husk began to protest, but Angel cut him off with an offered hand. “You gotta learn to walk right again…you gotta learn to dance again. May as well do it today, right?”
Husk gave a half smile, taking Angel’s hands and standing. “Stop leading,” he said, a smile playing on his lips.
“Then make me,” Angel challenged, giggling as Husk stepped forward more forcefully. It was clunky, but the moves came to Husk more.
“I can tell you were a dancer before,” Angel said to him quietly, intimately. “You move like there's music in your feet.”
Husk snorted softly, his smile gooey and warm. “That's corny, Angel.”
“Yeah, well I also happen to know you were born on a cob.”
“You're right!” Husk gave a real laugh this time. He hopped up onto the bar, using Angel as his balance. He spun the spider from his new vantage point, pulling Angel’s head to his chest as the song came to a close.
Angel hugged his arms around the cat, closing his eyes and listening to him breathe for a moment. “You'll be causin’ mayhem again in no time. Your wings were just extra bulk.”
“Now I wouldn't say that…but I'll adapt,” Husk tilted Angel’s chin up and kissed him chastely. He laughed into his mouth at the next song.
“Oh, perfect timin’! This song was all over hell when I was gettin' into too much trouble,” Angel grinned. “‘Cocktails for two,’ right?”
“I guess I have no choice.” Husk hopped down behind the bar, having to land on all fours.
Angel sat in a stool, letting it spin for a rotation. “Oh, Mistah’ Bartender! I know you're on a sabbatical, but could you make a drink for lil ole me?”
Husk was already muddling herbs. “I guess I could, since you're the prettiest broad in this dump.”
“Make it as cute as me.”
“And as neat?” Husk asked.
Angel answered, “How about tight?”
“I don't have a glass that wide.”
“Oh! Oh, ouch, that wounded me!” Angel tossed his head back dramatically, throwing a hand over his eyes. “My chastity has been challenged!”
“Baby, that happened well before this song came out,” Husk added strawberries to basil. He was pleased Charlie kept a stocked bar…likely for her alcoholic father.
“I'm DOUBLE wounded! Oh, good idea, make my drink a double.”
“I always do,” Husk told him. “How many songs in are we?” He started pouring.
“Lemme check.” Angel got up and walked to his phone, saving the recording. He'd cherish that forever. “I think we're about to get to overlordin’ shit…should I shut it off?”
“Eh. Let it play,” Husk shrugged. “Maybe we'll have a clue what to do from here.”
“You don't actually believe my Ma’s nonsense, do ya?”
“I don't see why not,” Husk garnished each drink with a little basil leaf.
Angel took a sip, letting out a loud “Mm!”
“I know you like it fruity,” Husk told him, taking a sip of his own.
“Only when I'm bein’ gay. What's your excuse?”
“Being gay,” Husk answered back. His ears swiveled. “This is from the new album topside.”
Angel frowned and looked at his phone to learn the song name. “Another Taylor Swift? ‘Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?’” He sighed and looked at him adoringly. “I can't believe you're into all this girly shit.”
“Being gay,” Husk repeated. “This is a revenge song.”
Angel frowned as she sang the line, “‘You don't get to tell me about sad.’” He took another sip. “Sometimes the songs are just for the titles…or even a single line.”
“I thought you didn't believe in this stuff,” Husker said.
“I don't…except maybe a little,” Angel said around his glass. “I like the idea of killin’ a bunch of people at a party, though.”
“I don't think that's what she was doing…but maybe,” Husk agreed.
“I bet you want her to, so Miss Taylor Swift ends up in Hell. I'll take you to one of her concerts, you closeted Swiftie.” Angel tried not to dwell on the lyrics. He finished his glass with a smack of his lips, “ahh.”
“That was fast,” Husk chuckled. “Another?”
Angel giggled and held out his glass. “I'm afraid I may be drinkin’ too much gettin’ off the coke…is this another 80s song?”
“I think so. The Bangles?” Husk started making him a fresh drink. “Slow down on this one, huh?”
“I'm already dizzy!” Angel spun on the stool again.
Husk laughed and reached out, stopping him by a shoulder.
“This song is cute, too. I think I'm gonna have to stop the tape soon, just t’keep my conposure…I like this though…it's about how cute you are.” Angel leaned over the bar. “It makes Mommy all messy inside. I'm mush.” He sighed and took the drink.
Husk took one of Angel’s hands and kissed it. “‘Eternal Flame’ is pretty sappy.”
“Yeah, but you're a sap,” Angel said. “Do y’think maybe this could last forever?”
“Nothing lasts forever, Angel, but it can last a long ass time.” Husk squeezed his fingers. “Time works differently here.”
“Yea…maybe I'm just gettin' drunk, but I think we should go find what awesome dildos Lucifer put in our gift basket.”
“What makes you think he did?”
“Please. The King of Hell? There's absolutely somethin’ lusty in there.”
“And what'll we do when we find out?” Husk purred for him.
Angel started to answer then stopped. He recognized this song from when he was alive. “No.” He said, striding over to the tape player, aggressively slapping “eject.”
Husk recognized it, too. “It's all fake bullshit, right?” He tried to comfort him.
“No, fuck you.” Angel scowled.
“A goodbye doesn't have to be forever,” Husk reasoned.
“It's how this ends,” Angel bristled.
“With a goodbye! Everything ends, Angel…it's a song…just a song.” Husk walked around the bar end and stumbled. He frowned, looking for his cane.
Angel pressed his face into his hands. “I'm drunk. I don't wanna say goodbye. It'd kill me.”
“It's the future, right?” Husk made his way to the couch, picking his cane off the floor. “It could be a million years from now.”
Angel sniffled, trying not to cry. Booze made it hard to keep stable.
“A million billion years,” Husk upped his offer.
Angel peaked from between his fingers. “A hundred million billion years?”
“Bet on it,” Husk nodded. Angel smiled behind his hands.
“Why don't we go look at that basket,” Husk offered. “Give me a minute to clean up the bar.”
Angel grinned wider, dropping his hands down. “I should change…and fix my makeup.”
“Take your drink up with you. I'll be right there.”
“You'll be right there, what?” Angel dared.
Husk looked around before answering. His nose blushed furiously. “I’ll be right there, Mommy.”
Angel melted again and squealed. “Okay, okay, don't take too long!”
Husker let out a long breath, thankful he was able to avoid a meltdown. He made his way to the bar again, cleaning his tools.
“Husker!!” Alastor appeared in a stool.
Husk jumped the highest he had since losing his wings. He quickly moved his cane to catch him from falling backwards. “Alastor?” He greeted back.
“I need a drink!”
Husk stared at the deer. “You look like a fucking mess.” It was surprising. His pupils were huge, his irises were thin strips of gold, and his fangs were dripping in an equally gold substance. Husk's nose wrinkled as he recognized the scent of angelic blood.
Alastor grit his teeth. “That's why I need a drink!!”
“...Sorry.” Husk dropped his rag onto the counter. “I'm on sabbatical.” He walked past the demon, playing it as cool as he could. “And I have a date.”
“HUSKER.”
“Make yourself a drink. But clean up after yourself,” Husk smirked. “Or,” he said, pausing in the doorway. “You could ask Lucifer. I hear he makes a good sidecar.”
