Friendships Are Hell

It's still Sunday! I'm not missing an update, just doing it way later than usual. :)

It's been a crazy week around these parts. Busy, long days at work. Welcomed a new pet into our home (more on her in the future). Sent my son back to a brick-and-mortar school for the first time in a year and a half. And my daughter returned to class after her winter break.

One moment, it's last Sunday. I blink, and it's Sunday again ... and I have little recollection of anything that happened during the week except BUSY.

I was so busy that I mostly just got home from work, ate, maybe crocheted a little bit, and went to sleep. That said, I was not able to do very much on the fic this week.

It's currently sitting at 66,000 words, which is officially longer than the first story. Seven or maybe eight more chapters to go! Anyone want to take a guess at how long this story will end up being? LOL

The final wordcount of this fic will be ...

• 70k
• 80k
• 85k
• 90k

See All Options

Want another sneak peek at the fic? Here ya go:

Something's Wrong with the Sinners at the Hazbin Hotel

Grace leaned back against the couch cushions. He couldn’t get any worse than she’d seen him lately. “I’m fine. He’s fine. Everything’s fine!” She added flippantly for good measure, “I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He won’t hurt me irrevocably. I’m too valuable to him.

If, that is, he’s still sane enough to recognize my value.

“Hey—” Kofax cleared her throat. “Charlie’s really cranking the a/c tonight, so … can we snuggle? Please?”

“I—I don’t know—” 

“It’s platonic, I promise. I’m cold and—honestly?—a little touch-starved.”

It was pretty frosty in there. If it got much colder, Grace’s nipples would slice right through her bra cups. So she scooted over and said, “Gimme some of that cover, K.”

Kofax draped it over Grace’s shoulders and leaned in. 

Once the ads concluded, Kofax unmuted the television in time for Katie Killjoy to announce, “Today is December eleventh. Do you know what that means, Tom?” But before Tom Trench could reply, Katie answered on his behalf: “Abso-fucking-lutely nothing! Triple digits forecast for Pentagram City for the interminable future! While you’re sweltering at midnight, just remember: this is God’s punishment for the gays!”

Kofax shifted in her spot, slipping an arm around Grace’s shoulders and resting her hand atop Grace’s breast.

Grace glanced down at it, her eyebrows darting up. “Um …” She laughed uncomfortably. “Whatcha doin’ there?”

With a sheepish smile, Kofax replied, “You’ve got more meat than I do. It’s comfy.”

“And … it’s not yours?”

“I’m just borrowing it. Let’s call this … platonic groping.”

“‘Platonic groping.’” Grace echoed incredulously.

Kofax’s gaze snapped up behind Grace and her face drained of its color.

Grace turned to see what Kofax was looking at.

Alastor stood in the entry of the alcove, silhouetted by the hallway wall sconces, his eyes glowing and horns racking. “Take your hand off of Grace’s chest before I take your hand off of you.”

Yet before Kofax had the opportunity to follow through—and before Grace could slip out from beside her—Alastor snapped his fingers and whisked Grace magically back to his bedroom.

The moment his shadows dissipated around them, he growled, “Run.”

“What?”

“Run, Grace!”

Until next week, deer friends!