#I'm so excited to be participating in something like this :) I'm gonna get a good grade in Fandom

[formula-nyoom]

I'm Proud of You

Pairing: Platonic!Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: Being the youngest and newest driver to the grid is not an easy adjustment to make and it ends up taking a toll on you. Thankfully some of the other drivers on the grid are there to look out for you.

A/N: Was going to wait till Saturday to post this, but I had a shit day today so I decided to post it now. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

No one really knew what Mercedes was thinking when they announced that they were signing you, an F2 rookie who placed 6th in the Formula 2 Championship, as the one to take the 2nd Mercedes seat. Everyone expected you to be named a reserve driver, so that you could prepare for the jump to F1. Yet here you were, jumping straight into the deep end. Even after you heard the news that you would be racing in Formula One, you were left more with shock and confusion rather than excitement. 

Sure, you had done a couple of test drives for Mercedes and had participated in an F1 practice session or two, but you didn’t think that was enough to put you in contention for a Formula One seat. 

But the media thought otherwise, and so did Mercedes. 

Both your friends and family tried to reassure you that you were good enough to race in Formula One, and you had seen countless interviews of Toto Wolf saying that he had made the right decision in signing you.

But none of that could take away the fact that all eyes were now on you. 

The first female to race in Formula One, and now the youngest on the grid.

The season hadn’t even started and yet you felt like Atlas holding the world weight of pressure that was placed upon your shoulders. You now have something to prove. And everyone was waiting for you to either fly or fall.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find the courage to cross the turnstile that led into the paddock during the first race weekend of the season. Crossing over would make everything real. And you would be doing it alone, as both your family and your manager weren't able to get to the track till later in the day. 

“Did you forget your badge on the first day?” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Charles and Pierre.

 “You can just jump over the gate. Yuki does it all the time.” Pierre said. 

 “No, I have my badge…I’m just nervous to enter the paddock.” You said, motioning with your head to the turnstiles.

 “What makes you so nervous?” Charles asked.

“There’s a lot of people. And cameras. And people with cameras. I feel like I’m gonna get swarmed as soon as my foot crosses the entrance.” You said.

 “You’re not wrong. The media doesn’t really know the definition of personal space.” Charles said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you want, I can act as a buffer and draw the attention away while Pierre helps you get past.”

 “Would that work? I just want to get to the Mercedes hospitality.”

“Oh trust me, the media loves Charles. They’ll be too focused on getting pictures of him to see us walk by.” Pierre said. You looked back at the people past the entrance and there seemed to be more than when you last looked. 

 “Well…if you’re sure it will work then we might as well try.” You said. Charles smiled and gave you a nod. He then took the sunglasses that were hanging on his hat and put them on before entering the paddock. Immediately, the people that had cameras flocked to Charles and started to take his picture as he tried to walk through the paddock. You and Pierre waited a couple moments to build enough distance between you and Charles before the two of you entered the paddock. You clutched the straps of your bag tightly, expecting the nearby paparazzi to turn around and immediately start taking pictures of you and Pierre, but they were too focused on Charles.  

Pierre’s hand hovered over your shoulder as he tried to block you from most of the cameras while guiding you through the paddock. While the two of you managed to pass Charles without getting noticed, you couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic, seeing Charles surrounded by so many people trying to take his picture. Eventually, you and Pierre managed to make it to the Mercedes hospitality building.

“Is it always going to be like this?” You asked Pierre.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Especially since you’re the newest on the grid. I recommend you invest in a good pair of sunglasses. But I’m proud of you for getting past your first swarm of paparazzi.” Pierre said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and swatted his hand away as Charles walked up to the two of you.

 “Whew! Thank god Lewis walked in. I felt like those reporters and paparazzi would never leave.” Charles said.

 “Sorry for making you go through that.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. 

“Pas de soucis. I’m used to it and know how to handle them. Though I will advise that you never enter the paddock by yourself. The reporters are like vultures.” Charles said. “Anyway, we will see you at the press conference, no?”

 “Yep. I’ll see you there.” You said. Charles patted your shoulder before him and Pierre headed to their own team's hospitality. 

~~~

You were beginning to hate the press conferences that you had to go to. Any question that was directed towards you involved your performance on track, or lack thereof as some reporters like to put it. You were getting tired of having to answer questions that made you feel like a failure.

“This question is for (Y/N). We’re now five races into the season and you’ve been continuously out qualified and out placed by your teammate, George? Is there a certain struggle that you’re having with the car that may be the cause of this?”

If you could walk away from this question, you would. But instead you stayed in your seat and picked up the microphone next to you. Damn Mercedes PR training.

 “There’s still some learning with the car. The engineers have said that the car isn’t up to the standards they want it to be, so I am struggling a bit on track.” You said, giving your best PR approved answer that you could manage.

“But would it be safe to say that you are under performing at Mercedes in comparison to your teammate?” The reporter asked. You tried to steal your expression and act like the comment didn’t bother you.

 “What kind of question is that?” It wasn’t you that asked it, but Lando, who was sitting to your right. You looked at him with some confusion. So did the reporter.

“Is there something you would like to add, Lando?”

“Yea. You can’t say she’s underperforming when she’s a rookie that has only completed five races.” Lando said, an upset expression clear on his face. The reporter cleared his throat.

 “I’m just saying, some have doubts that Mercedes were too hasty in signing an F2 rookie and I wanted to know if that was being reflected in (Y/N)’s driving.” The reporter said, trying to control the situation

 “I think we already know your opinion on Mercedes' decision based on the questions you ask.” Carlos said, who was sitting next to Lando. “I agree with Lando that it’s unfair to judge (Y/N) based on her first five races.”

 “I’d say she’s actually doing pretty good for a rookie, considering she’s been able to score points in two out of the 5 races she’s done so far.” Lando said.

 “Much more than you have ever done.” Carlos said to the reporter. You tried to hide the smile that was slowly forming on your face but inevitably failed as you picked your microphone back up.

“To my two fellow drivers points, I think you’re discounting me too early. I will admit that there is still a learning curve and with the continuous upgrades that Mercedes keeps bringing to the car, I am constantly having to adjust to all the new additions while also trying to get used to driving a Formula One car every other weekend.” You said, making direct eye contact with the reporter. “But I will eventually get used to the car. And when I do, I think I will be able to match George and possibly start out qualifying.”

That seemed to silence the reporter, as he sat back down. It also seemed to signify the end of the press conference as reporters started to pack their things and you and the other drivers sitting on the couch with you got up and left the room.

“Mate, I’m so proud of you and how you handled that reporter.” Lando said once you were out of the room. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

 “I was ready to walk out of the press conference when I heard that question. Why do these reporters always have to compare me to George?”

 “Because that's what they do. All of us get compared to our teammates because our teammates are seen as our biggest competition.” Carlos said. “You’re gonna get it more because you’re new.”

“Just remember that you can refuse to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable.” Lando said. 

 “Even the sexist ones?” You asked. Carlos and Lando nodded their heads.

“Especially the sexist ones.” Carlos said.

 “Better yet, I’ll answer them for you in the most ridiculous manner so that way they’ll stop asking you questions like that.” Lando said, making you laugh.

~~~

So many more races. Too many races. How does a Formula One driver get through all these races and have a chance to calm down? You were used to things going fast, but lately you just wanted a chance to slow down and breathe. 

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in an empty VIP room, looking out the window at a mostly empty racetrack. Phone in hand. Staring at the clock that displayed the timezone back at home.

2:00AM. Your parents are definitely asleep right now. It’s not a good time to call them, no matter how much you want to. 

You were so focused on staring at your phone, you didn’t notice that Max had walked in.

“Sadly I don’t think drivers count as VIPs at the races they have to participate in.” Max said as he sat down next to you, a Redbull in his hand.

 “It’s the only place that I can find privacy and some peace and quiet.” You said still staring at your phone.

2:01AM.

You turned your phone off and let out a sigh, placing it down next to you.

 “Something the matter?” Max asked. You hesitated. You didn’t want to burden a 3-time World Champion with your upset thoughts, that was for your non-existent therapist. But then again, maybe talking to someone who has been in your position before may make you feel a bit better.

“I haven’t found a good time to call my parents since the start of the season.” You said. “They were able to make it to my first race, which was amazing. I was really glad they could come…but with so many races on the calendar, it’s hard for them to come to all of them, and all the changing time zones makes it hard to find a good time to call them.” You told him. “I miss talking to them.”

Max looked at you, took in how you were hugging your knees. Max sometimes forgets that you're now the youngest driver on the grid. On the track he sees you as competition, but now he sees you as the overwhelmed rookie that you looked like right now.

“I understand what you're feeling. It does get overwhelming a lot of times.” He said. You turned to him.

 “How do you deal with it?”

“No matter what country we are in, I try to find a day or time where I can get the farthest away from being a race car driver. A spot that’s farthest away from the track where I’m not “Max Verstappen, The Red Bull Driver”, but just “Max”.” He said.

 “Don’t you get recognized wherever you go?” You asked

“Absolutely. But being away from the track, even for an hour, makes me less overwhelmed. And in regards to wanting to talk to your parents, yes finding a time to communicate is hard, but sometimes you just have to throw timezones out the window and call your parents. Even if you can only talk to them for five minutes, it’s still five minutes that you get to talk to them.” Max explained. 

You thought about what Max said. It would make you feel a bit guilty, waking your parents up in the middle of the night just because you wanted to talk to them. But at the same time, sometimes they’re the only people that could make you feel better. You looked back down at your phone.

2:05 AM

You’d be ok with just five minutes.

 “I think I’m gonna call my parents.” You said to Max. He smiled and gave you a nod before standing up.

 “I’ll let you have your privacy. But my driver’s room is open if you want to talk about anything except racing.” Max said before leaving the room. You smiled at him before calling your parents.

~~~

Finally you had finished a race with what you thought was a good race result. P6 was your highest placement so far this season and it was something you should be proud of. But even if you thought it was a good result, you knew that people were going to comment that George had gotten P4, placing ahead of you again. To you, it felt like no matter how high you climbed up the grid, if George finished in front of you, your result wasn’t something to be proud of. 

You were knocked out of your thoughts by someone bumping your shoulder. It was Oscar walking alongside you. The fact that he was looking directly at you made you assume the bump was intentional to get your attention.

“Proud of you.” Oscar said. “This was just like that one season of Formula 2 we raced in together.”

You scoffed but smiled.

 “Yea, except I now have the knowledge not to shunt the car into the back of yours.” You said. You spent most of thid race chasing Oscar’s rear wing and were glad that you didn’t do what you had just said.

“That time was an accident. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Oscar said. The two of you stopped walking as you got closer to where the podium interviews were taking place. The two of you watched as Charles was getting interviewed about his winning result. 

“So am I gonna see you up on that podium this season?” Oscar asked. You didn’t want to shake your head, but your body acted on instinct. You have been shaking your head a lot these days.

 “That seems unlikely. I haven’t been able to match George’s pace at all and he keeps out qualifying me.” You said. Oscar looked at you confused.

 “What are you on about? You were only 2 seconds off George and that was only because I was in between the two of you.” He said. You sighed.

“Yea but it was still 2 seconds behind George. It doesn’t matter how much time is between the two of us, if I’m behind him that’s all the media is going to care about.” You said. “I’ll never have the pace to pass him.”

“Hey!” Oscar grabbed your shoulders so that you would face him. “You have the pace. You’ve been building it up this whole season. At the start you were what? 10 seconds behind him? Now you’re two. Soon there’s going to be no gap because you’ll be ahead of him at some point. It’s bound to happen.”

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing down, or the fact that Oscar was saying something you had been wanting to hear from your race engineer, or your team princpal, or hell, even it’s something the media should be noticing: that you’re catching up and proving your pace. Oscar’s words were making you feel like you belonged on the grid.

 “You think so?” You asked, needing the confirmation. 

“I know so. Screw what everyone else says.” Oscar said. “Are you proud of your P6?”

 You looked back at your car, then at the car of your teammate’s before your eyes landed back at Charles. You’d be in his spot at some point this season, you just knew it.

 “Yea. I’m proud of myself.”

[ilovedthestars]

Sickbay Saturday: Murderbot Fic Rec List

Hey it's the first @sickbaysaturdays!! I might try writing my own fic for this in the future but I didn't have time for that today, so I thought I would make a list of some other people's very good fics that go with the Sickbay theme!

If you haven't read The Murderbot Diaries series by Martha Wells, go do that. (At least read the first paragraph and then tell me it doesn't sound incredible.) TMBD has some really excellent sci-fi concepts that lend themselves very well to whump, hurt/comfort and fascinating sci-fi medical problems, like "what if your brain was infected with malware that caused unbearable hypersensitivity?" or "how do you save a sentient bundle of code that's almost torn itself apart?"

This list will run more on the hurt/comfort side of things, because that's where my tastes lie. If you like a little more pain and despair, @specialagentartemis made a rec list of some excellently horrifying fics focused on cubicle technology! (I'm also stealing her formatting, since I've never made a rec list before.)

In no particular order, here are some of my favorite fics that explore the possibilities of sci-fi medical issues/treatment in the Murderbot universe!! (These are all fairly short oneshots, gen, and rated for either general audiences or teen and up.)

MedSystem by fireworksinthenight

2,273 words, General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Murderbot POV.

Relevant tags: Friendship (don't tell Murderbot), Swearing, Physical Pain, Emotions

ART’s MedSystem is top-notch. None of its crew ever complained, right? Nor did the SecUnit it calls its friend. It’s not like SecUnit wouldn’t bother to tell it if something was wrong.

The fic I was thinking of when I decided to make this list! Our beloved part-robotic, part-organic, all-sarcasm protagonist Murderbot has the ability to adjust its own pain sensors, but we've seen times in canon when that isn't effective, including when it's receiving MedSystem treatment from ART. This fic touches on the differences between how SecUnits and humans receive medical treatment--both in terms how SecUnits are objectified and mistreated and their actual needs. It also has some wonderful "your friends care about you, idiot" energy.

it has turned into a scar, just the same by ampquot

1,171 words, General Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, ART POV.

Relevant tags: Medical Trauma, Angst, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort

Even when repaired by a good MedSystem (and Perihelion’s MedSystem was very good), a human body that has been damaged is not completely restored to its previous integrity. Was SecUnit any different? Perihelion’s scans had surprisingly revealed no evidence of past physical traumas.

Or: ART confronts the way its friend's body gets broken and made new again.

Yes, futuristic medical technology that can replace missing body parts and repair major injuries in a matter of hours has countless benefits, but this fic also explores the fridge-horror implications. If any amount of physical trauma or injury can be erased, then it's easy to gloss over the fact that SecUnits were built to be thrown into harm's way again and again. In this excellent fic, ART has some emotions about that.

Hypersensitive by tocautiouslygo

2,147 words, No Archive Warnings Apply, Teen And Up Audiences, Murderbot POV.

Relevant tags: Hurt/Comfort, mostly hurt tbh, Whump, Rated T for swearing, Sensory Overload

Murderbot deals with a malware attack that causes unbearable sensory hypersensitivity.

Malware has SUCH angst potential with characters who are part organic, part machine. (I am a certified Malware Fic Aficionado. Malware is so fun.) One of the most angsty applications of this that I’ve seen in fic is the potential for malware to cause physical pain (or in this case, painful hypersensitivity). This fic is very vividly written whump, but as it's not physical injury-related it's great for those of us like me who don't have much stomach for gore, and it ends with some relief. Deliciously painful :')

Stumble by ProfessorAerii

1,953 words, No Archive Warnings Apply, Teen And Up Audiences, Ratthi POV.

Relevant tags: Missing Scene, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Missing scene from Chapter 8 of Exit Strategy; Murderbot may have glossed over forgetting how to walk but uncontrolled falls to the ground tend to be loud.

This fic elaborates on a throwaway line from that one time Murderbot almost deleted its brain. That whole section of the fourth novella, Exit Strategy, has perfect vibes for Sickbay Saturday, but this fic fills in more detail around Murderbot's slow recovery and shows how its humans friends took care of it during that time. This one is more on the comfort side, and I love Ratthi's concern and gentleness and Murderbot's uninhibited blurting of the feelings it usually won't admit to.

pick up the pieces and try again by CompletelyDifferent

4,875 words, Major Character Death, Teen And Up Audiences, ART POV.

Relevant tags: Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person

The Perihelion attempts to reassemble some corrupted code.

I will be vague about this fic because the character death warning is for a canon character death that's a pretty major spoiler for a later book in the series (Network Effect), but this is a fix-it fic where that death is undone. It's a soft and painful and tender story about nursing a character back to health who doesn't remember who it is and lashes out dangerously, but it looks a little different because the character is a fully digital being. This might not tecnically be a sickbay fic but I think it fits the spirit of "sci-fi medical treatment," and it's too wonderful not to include.

In conclusion: The Murderbot Diaries are great and we have lots of excellent fic. We also have a discord server that's full of fun analysis and discussions where lots of these amazing ideas were born!! If you'd like to join us there, you can message me or another server member and we'll get you on the queue for an invite! Join usssssss

Other Murderbot fanfic enjoyers, please feel free to reblog with your own favorites! I'm sure I missed some good ones. :)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tried to covertly exclude one of my friends from game nights ? 🎮🎧📞

tw: disordered eating, self harm

I've got a discord friend group of about 15 people though only 10 or so are regularly active and game nights often are usually around 6 people but they rotate who participates often. We're all in the 20s and mostly nonbinary / genderqueer / trans one way or another. I'm 25 ftm personally (they them) and the friend this is about in particular is 22mtf (she/they).

Friend is really excited to hit the 1 year marker in her transition and loves sharing how excited she is about her progress - how strangers at her job are gendering her correctly more and more often, how her cup sizes are growing, how much weight she's lost, wardrobe updates, getting to learn girl things from their very supportive mom, etc etc etc. It's all very exciting, I remember hitting my 1 year marker and i'm genuinely really happy for her.

The thing is I struggled with disordered eating in the past. Several others in our friend group have as well and it's something we've talked about both in related and unrelated convos to this issue. Friend keeps an excel spreadsheet with her measurements from bust to hips to weight and will update us frequently whether we've expressed interest in hearing the exact numbers or not. Exact Numbers was one of the things I kept track of and hearing her tracking them (for very different reasons) will often set me off and i'll start taking more and more unhealthy actions, falling back into disordered habits.

Friend has adhd and very poor impulse control. She often joins conversations and talks over people, completely changes conversational topics on a dime, or forgets who is in a call at any moment and brings up someone's triggers. She'll almost always apologize if someone mentions a social mistake she's made, but because the weight/food intake/number watching is so important to them as a way to track their transition it's the one thing that keeps coming back and back and back. I and the others have tried talking in voice calls, mentioning in text chats in the group and even DMing her but because of the topic and this group being the friend group she feels safest in (we were all the first to know and hyped them up on the hrt journey) these are some convos she only gets to have here

and because of the topic, i feel rude or embarrassed when I have to say "hey can we not talk about this right now or i'm gonna have to leave". So on most nights if it comes up I'll just deafen / go afk / just zone out entirely until the conversation has passed. If it doesn't seem like it's going to or they are so in depth that it's genuinely triggering a self harm response i'll fully leave instead so she can keep having her fun and get excited

Game nights are different though

I'm usually the host of game night and so can pick when we play our silly little games. Obviously people can and do still hangout and do things together Not on specific game nights, and we all do, but game nights are my thing. We play party games over discord or multiplayer competition games or lately have been getting into games like content warning and lethal company when there's 4 or sometimes 5 of us (either someone wants to hang out but only watch or we rotate around who plays round by round)

Friend is often working in the evenings and so bc this is an online friend group they don't actually know my work schedule. We usually only have about half the total number of participants be around for game night anyways, so I've been thinking of occasionally lining up game nights for nights when she's mentioned being busy by saying i work the other nights - but only sometimes. I do really like friend. She can be so much fun to hang out with, excitingly competitive and with interesting knowledge to share and generally a good sport no matter the actual game we're playing. But sometimes the worry about the triggering and the trigginering itself are too much. sometimes i just can't handle when she does it and knowing i can't leave and asking her to stop expressing her joy makes me feel like an asshole anyways so i don't want to be around it.

To be clear. I do not think they are an asshole. Friend is genuinely one of my friends. I like her and hanging out with her. they do not trigger me (or any of the others w this same trigger) maliciously. this is solely would I be the asshole.

TLDR: My friends way of tracking her transition sometimes triggers my eating disorder. would I be the asshole for planning game nights that I host and cannot leave / tune out conversations during so that she cannot attend as often in hopes that I am not triggered as often?

[moonstruckme]

This celebration is so cute ahhhh

Two Ghosts - send autumn/Halloween-specific prompts!

anyway, imagine picking out your halloween costume with the marauders

Remus is so supportive of whatever (as long as you don't make him do anything too weird), James wants to do something that matches, and Sirius is all like "this one would make your tits look great, ah babe this one would show off your lovely thighs, I've always wanted to fuck a nurse :)"

I hope I'm doing this right, this is my first time having the pleasure of participating in a celebration!

-🔮

You're good, lovely! Thanks for participating :)

join the party

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 474 words

“No,” Remus says as Sirius comes pulls up yet another picture of a group costume. “Pads, my one condition is that I get to be fully clothed. I’m not going to change my mind.” 

“But we’d look so hot as the sexy Scooby Doo gang,” Sirius whines, but when Remus’ expression doesn’t change, he switches tactics. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to see me in a collar, Moony.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, seemingly unaffected. “I could have you in a collar anytime I wanted to. Next.” 

“Ooh, I like this one!” James says, swiveling his laptop around for you all to see. “We could be smurfs!”

Sirius sighs heavily, tipping his head back against the couch cushions. “None of you sees the vision,” he laments. 

While you can’t say you’re totally on board with Sirius’ plan of walking around in essentially underwear on what’s bound to be a chilly night, you agree with him about this one. 

“I don’t love the idea of painting my face and everything blue,” you tell James gently. “Haven’t you seen the videos where it won’t come off?”

“What if we just all went as ghosts,” Remus suggests, patting James’ head consolingly when he pouts. “It’s simple, it’s easy, we all already have sheets.” 

“Ghosts,” Sirius says severely, “are not hot.” 

“You know what else isn’t going to be hot?” Remus counters. “The weather, on October thirty first.” 

“I’m sure we can find a compromise,” you say, moving further onto Sirius’ lap before he can get too amped up. You lean your head against his chest placatingly, looking at the screen of his laptop. “Merlin, these are skimpy.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Sirius murmurs, kissing the crown of your head absentmindedly. He scrolls a bit further, and then you feel him perk up in excitement even before he speaks. “Okay, okay, compromise: nurses and doctor. Rem, you can be a doctor if you want to wear, like, pants or whatever—” he shakes his head as if such a desire is unbelievable “—but the rest of us can be sexy nurses. Look, sweetheart, this neckline will make your tits look great.” 

You gaze at the tiny bits of white fabric covering the model in the picture, dread settling like a weight in your gut. “It’s…a lot of skin.”

“Yup.” Sirius nods, pleased with himself. “Gotta show it off, sweet thing. And I get to show you off in the process.” 

James gets up, peering over your shoulders to see. “Merlin,” he breathes. “Alright, I’m willing to freeze my ass off if you guys are. So long as we’re doing it together, yeah?” 

“We’re gonna be so cold,” you agree.

“Aw, don’t worry sweetheart.” Sirius rubs your shoulder eagerly. “I’m sure Moony will lend you his doctor’s coat if you need it, won’t you handsome?”

[faithshouseofchaos]

The tale of two lions 🦁 — Leo McTavish x Max Verstappen

Mentions — brief lestappen and J*s verstappen

The bar was crowded and hot with the smell of cigarettes, sweat, a variety of alcohol, perfumes and cologne. It was the weekend of the Austin Texas Grand Prix. Most of the guys on the grid and their respective Wags decided to go out for drinks and dancing to blow off some steam before Fp1 and so on.

Max sat in a corner booth with some of his fellow drivers sippin on gin and tonic. He wasn’t paying attention to what his fellow drivers were talking about.

Max's attention was on the dance floor apparently it was line dancing night at the bar. Max wasn’t going to lie, it looked fun and if he knew how to line dance he would’ve been participating but he watched as the crowd moved in sync with each other.

Max's attention was torn away from the crowd by Lando's girlfriend who squeaked out in excitement.

“Lando baby please dance with me?” The girl asked him.

Lando placed his hand on the side of his girlfriend's face and kissed her. “Baby I would love to line dance with you but I have two left feet. It would be a disaster.” He smiled.

“I’ll dance with her,” a voice said. The voice belonged to Leo McTavish Max’s hot Scottish teammate Max rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink.

“Oh you will thank you Leo” Landos girlfriend said with a smile on her face as she took him and the two of them made their way to the dance floor.

“That doesn’t bother you?” Pierre asked the Brit

“What My girlfriend and Leo dancing together no not one bit” Lando shrugged knowing that the Scottish driver was into men.

“How?” Pierre asked with wide eyes.

“Leo’s gay remember?” Lando said.

“That makes sense,” Pierre said, shaking his head and turning his attention back to Charles.

Max once again found himself watching the crowd. No scratch that he found himself watching Leo. Max was staring and he was staring hard at the Scot. Max watched the way Leo moved on the song Country girl by Luke Bryan Mac wasn’t sure he’d ask Daniel later.

There was something about the Scot that made Max feel funny on The inside. Max hated it. Max hated everything about Leo.

He hated the way Leo spoke whether it was his own accent or one of the many languages Leo could speak Max hated it.

He hated the way Leo smelled of mint chocolate and coffee.

He hated how Leo did his hair whether it was loosely slicked back or how he left it so the longer strands of his chocolate colored hair fell across his face.

He hated how Leo was taller and physically bigger than him.

Max hated everything about Leo. But he couldn’t shake the butterflies that Leo constantly gave him.

Max didn’t know what was going on with him. He didn’t get much time to explore his sexuality in his teens. There was one time when he and Charles kissed when they were sixteen. Jos had found out that Max had kissed Charles and beaten Max. Max never thought about another Male like that again until Leo fucking McTavish.

Max took a deep breath and tried to block out his thoughts of Leo from his head. All that hate and anger he felt towards the driver was a lie, he didn't hate anything about Leo. He hated himself for how he felt. But if Max were being honest with himself he didn't hate all those things he just said. It was just his defense mechanism kicking in at high speed.

“You're staring” Max heard someone say over the song.

Looking over he sees Daniel “what?” Max asked.

“At Leo you were staring at him like you were gonna pounce on him at any given moment” Daniel says chuckling.

Max's face turned bright red and he looked like a tomato. Max gulped. "I was not!" he said quickly.

"Did you not see how he was moving his hips when they started to line dance?" Daniel added.

Max's face got even redder, "I was not, I have no interest in Leo. Why would you think I like the guy?" Max said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Because I'm good at figuring out people, and it's pretty clear you're interested in Leo." Daniel said smugly.

Daniel nudged Max, “Just go up to him and ask if he wants to get out of here.” Daniel urged.

Max shook his head. “What if he says no?” Max asks.

“Oh he'll say yes,” Daniel says confidently. “He might be tough on the outside, but he's actually really sweet. You just have to get to know him.” Daniel explains.

Max sighs then turns to face the dance floor where he sees Leo dancing with Lando's girlfriend he looks as if he's having the time of his life.

Max wanted to ask Leo if he wanted to get out of there but he couldn’t not with the memory of his father yelling at him.

instead max walked over to the bar and ordered him a stronger drink to calm down his nerves.

Max was on his second drink when he was snapped out of his thoughts by someone's voice. Max's heart raced because he knew exactly who it was.

“You know, staring isn’t going to get you anywhere,” Leo said.

Max couldn't respond. He was too busy trying to stop his face from flushing as if Leo were staring straight into his soul with his icy blue eyes, Max tried to compose himself but all he could do was stay silent.

Leo crossed his arms looking at Max up and down. Max couldn’t meet his gaze and Max's heart started jumping out of his chest. Max could feel his face burning with embarrassment and anger at himself.

“Still can't talk, huh?” Leo asked with a smirk on his face. Max tried coming up with something to say, but his mouth felt dry and his confidence was shot.

“Your not the tough guy you pretend to be huh Max?” Leo smirked more, “You seem scared what are you scared I’ll bite?” He asked jokingly. Max looked up at him still in disbelief that Leo was standing in front of him.

Max managed to whisper out a “go to hell” just loud enough for Leo to hear. Max watched as Leo smirked even more; it was clear he enjoyed teasing and provoking Max.

Max wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge if someone provoked him. So he looked straight at Leo in the eyes and asked “What if I am?” He wanted to see if Leo would call his bluff.

Leo looked into Max's eyes with a cocky smirk. Max could see him trying not to laugh. “Are you? Scared I mean” he teased.

Max's face turned red once again. Max really was scared for some reason. He didn’t know what it was but he was scared of what Leo could make him feel.

He tried to hide it though, he wouldn't let Leo see how vulnerable he was. Max grumbled, “No, I’m not scared,” Max lied.

Leo stared into Max's, taking in the way Max’s body stiffened in his presence. Leo shook his head and pursed his lips.

“Whatever you say Verstappen” Leo says walking away.

Max let out a breath that was going to be harder than he thought.

Max felt his heart sink as Leo walked away the British driver had to stop himself from immediately following.

Max grumbled under his breath he didn’t know how things would work between him and Leo.

Max tried to convince himself that he was straight but that was hard to do when every time he saw Leo a storm of emotions would wash over him.

Max took another sip of his drink to calm his nerves and then headed towards the dance floor trying to push the thought of Leo out of his mind and to just enjoy the rest of his night.

Taglist — @the-ghost-lovwr @toasttt11 @clowngirlsstuff

(Anyone who wants to be tagged let me know)

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I'm soooo sorry you're under the weather and dealing with crappy stuff! I hope things get better for you, physically and mentally 🙏 Get lots of rest if you can, and drink all the fluids!

Headcanon requests, is it? How about the OPLA men (Shanks & Mihawk, but also take your pick, etc) with a multi-tasking reader who delights in various hobbies to keep busy, and occasionally drags them into getting involved? Whether it be container gardening, knitting, baking, sewing, artwork, etc.

Bonus if they're also contending with where exactly reader stores all of her crap when it's not in use, not at all guilty of this myself 🙈🤣

Thank you so, so, so much. It’s been a really bad day and this has honestly helped a lot.

Like I feel this hard. There’s guitar picks and tuning peg winders and little notebooks full of story notes and recipes and origami scattered all over my house.

Just gonna do Shanks and Mihawk this time, because they very much are my main comfort characters right now.

The fact that one of my comfort characters is so murdery probably does not say good things for my mental health but whatever

Hobbies

OPLA! Shanks and Mihawk x Reader

Cloyingly fluffy, here is a spoon with which to gag yourself, just in case c>===

Shanks

He is absolutely so game for all of this.

Such a child about it, if you’re trying to do anything new he’s just so excited about it and needs to know everything.

Completely in your business, asking ten thousand questions, along with the inevitable starry-eyed, “Can I help?”

And you’d have to be heartless to turn down those puppy-dog eyes.

It might not turn out to be his thing, and he might get in the way more than he actually helps, but he’s going to enjoy the experience with you regardless, and his enthusiasm is just so precious that it makes it more fun for you as well.

The exception here is knitting. Knitting can get fucked. He tried, holding one needle in his hand and the other between his teeth, and somehow ended up nearly giving himself a tracheotomy.

But if you knit, sew, or crochet something for him, he’s going to unironically wear it everywhere and brag about it to anyone who will listen.

Baking, though, turns out he has something of a knack for it. And now his go-to solution if you’re sad or upset about something is to bake you cookies, because “How can anyone be sad when there are cookies?” And, well, he’s not entirely wrong.

The captain’s cabin is just completely cluttered with arts and crafts supplies, with so many signs and knickknacks of your many and varied hobbies, and he sincerely loves it because there’s just so much of you everywhere he looks. He’s always felt at home on the sea, but this just makes it feel even more like home.

Mihawk

Not quite as perceptive to participating. He might if you ask him, but some things might take convincing.

He’s an utter perfectionist about everything, so if you do convince him to try anything, he’s probably going to fixate on it until he’s a certified expert and compete with you over who’s better at it.

More refined and traditional artistic endeavors definitely appeal to him more—you could probably convince him to try painting or drawing pretty easily, but things like sewing or crocheting are going to be a little more of a stretch.

Gardening in general is honestly fine as well, container or otherwise.  The more you can grow on the island or around the castle, the less he has to concern himself with leaving to deal with other people. And it is fairly convenient to have fresh herbs growing right in the kitchen.

Fairly adept at cooking already—he’s spent most of his life in solitude, so cooking for himself was something of a necessity. Baking isn’t exactly his forte, but he will partake if you ask him to.

He acts like the clutter of your supplies irritates him, but really only so he can give you a room or two of the castle dedicated solely to your hobbies. No point looking a gift horse in the mouth, and you know he’s just being surly to protect his pride.

You know because even if he isn’t interested in it himself, he does enjoy watching you work, sitting off to the side with a book and a glass of wine, glancing up every so often to see your progress.

[eldritch-spouse]

HI AGAIN. Ever since I found your blog and also sent a totally normal ramble abt cannibalism I've been just. Gently tossing your guys back and forth in my head. You're a wonderful writer and I'm always excited to see you on my dash!!

Gonna throw my hat in as asking an actual question- How would your guys fare if their obsession had a particularly weird or morbid interest? I get the vibes that some of them would most certainly encourage it but I also feel like Vinnel would hit me with a hammer if I panic infodumped about ebola-

[Hellow, glad to see you again! Also, I know you probably just forgot, but "your guys" encompasses way too many characters to talk about at once, so I'll assume you were going for TCE staff.]

Morell especially likes hearing about your cannibalism infodumps. They're actually useful to him, since he's going to be living with you, and he needs to know what he can and can't feed you, as well as a possible child between you. It's actually interesting stuff, he'd like it if you talked about it to his family too, you're a smart piggy. Any other topics are usually met with less enthusiasm (unless kitchen/food related), and he'll ask you to quit it if you start talking too much about mushrooms. Overall, it's nice background noise to work to.

Patches is all about infodumping. In fact, you're subjected to it often too, even if he doesn't always stop to explain basic concepts you'd need to understand his rambling. He'll give you a recorder he has, so he can keep the sound of that boundless enthusiasm in your voice forever. He's much more participative than the others, asking various questions and tossing random scenarios at you that'll prompt you to learn even more. There's a potential he'll get distracted and stop working to just research this with you the whole day.

Gallon loves a weirdo -No offense- Feel free to dump all that morbidity on him, he soaks it up like a sponge (so does Martin, be careful). Although he prefers to let you speak unhindered, only egging you on when it seems you're getting passionately angry about things, there's a chance Gallon may begin his own little tidbit sharing regarding a variety of poisons and toxins. He's selective with what he lets slip, but figures it could interest you.

Santi likes listening to you. Doesn't matter what it's about. There's only one thing he doesn't want you to morbidly talk to him about, anything featuring kids. Other than that, you think a rant about the intricacies of cannibalism's effects will kill his mood? Hah, nice try. He usually doesn't have anything smart to say, but may actually pitch in with some first hand details if you mention something sexual and morbid.

Let's face it, this is going in one of Grimbly's eardrums and out the other. Unless, you can talk like you're in a true crime podcast, then he's all ears. Grimbly typically responds to these interests by bragging to others about how his Mommy's "so smart" and "cultured" and he learns so much with you! You should start a YouTube channel!

Nebul likes to hear what you think is morbid. He'll let you ramble when you've been good enough to earn his attention, or if it allows you to keep obeying him. He has his own morbidities to share with you, as a wraith who has seen the darkest parts of many a mind. Surely, you of all people would be fascinated to know how the brain reacts to very invasive types of trauma only some monsters can inflict...

Vinnel will use this to his advantage during shows. You're placed in dangerous games where the whole goal is for you to explain said morbid concepts to the audience while Vinnel or Jingles try to destabilize you so you'll fall into painful contraptions or get cut/bruised/undressed. Sometimes Vinnel pays attention to your infodumps, other times he openly doesn't, it's a coin toss.

Belo sincerely discourages you from seeking such dark information in your brain. A lesser's mind is like a canvas, and it shouldn't be furnished with such desolate knowledge... If your morbid interests somehow can shine a glimmer of positivity or utility, the angel will be a little more inclined to letting you keep pursuing these topics. Otherwise, Belo actively attempts to distract you.

Sybastian doesn't understand about 80% of what you're about to tell him, but he has all the time in the world to sit and listen to his favorite person spit words. He's not verbally communicative during these episodes, but he may clap depending on how impressive the information is, and he remembers things you say enough to sometimes present you with paraphernalia vaguely related to the topics of your morbid interests.

Fank-e is a good bet because he can add onto your information in real time, or correct small detail you may get them wrong. He's generally happy to give you links to more information sources and try to match your level of knowledge, uncaring of how dark the subject theme may be.

If there's one thing you can infodump to Krulu about, it would be diseases. Plagues and ailments of several types are his specialty, the chances of him imparting bits of knowledge you absolutely should not possess on this matter are high. Another thing you may infodump to him about is corvids. It gets him in very favorable moods, surprisingly.

[lincolndjarin]

Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 2

chapter two : beware the jabberwock

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : took a while to get out but here is chapter two !!! i have a lot of fun writing this fic bc the pacing is so much different than bks but i'm excited to get this chapter out bc i loved writing it so much and i'm so happy that people enjoy this fic so far !!

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 15.1k (i'm so sorry idk what happened)

summary : new relationships are tricky, especially when your boyfriend likes to disappear for several days with no explanation.

warnings, etc. : dub con?? i'm gonna tag this with that because the sex is like weird in this?? a lot of it is angry or reluctant from one participant at times so i'm gonna tag it just in case, soulmates au, no outbreak au, language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, fear, feeling of being stalked, feeling of being watched, me making up things regarding the embalming process, animal death, graphic description of the mortuary process, menstruation, derealization (sort of), smut, oral f!recieving, p in v, biting, just like a lot of mouth stuff lmao, cum eating, rough sex, degradation, sort of dumbification, joel is a bit beastly, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, use of the pet name bunny, nightmares, periods, menstruation, joel is a terrible boyfriend, angry sex, injury, blood, blood drinking, manipulation, not a/b/o but something i made up that is sort of along those lines??, body horror, monsters, predator & prey dynamic, a lot of stuff happens this chap so i might have missed some sorry!!, no physical description of reader but joel is described as being abnormally strong and does pick reader up, there is no actual fucking of a monster yet we can't just do that right out the gate it's a thriller it destroys the thrill if they fuck immediately, that being said; this is a monster fucker fic - proceed accordingly

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

You don’t sleep well after your dream.

Just staring up at the ceiling until the sun is starting to shine through the windows. 

Not that you’ve been sleeping well recently to begin with. And Joel suddenly feels less safe, the grip of his arms around you feels more like it’s trapping you rather than protecting you.

It’s Joel. 

Just take a deep breath. 

It’s Joel. Joel Miller. Sweet, handsome, kind, Joel Miller. Joel who came back, even though you assumed you’d never hear from him again. 

It was nothing more than a dream. 

Stop making up monsters. 

You slip out of his arms, quietly making your way over to the fridge to try and find something to make for breakfast. You haven’t gone shopping in a while, all you’ve got is half a loaf of bread and a few eggs. Good enough. Clicking the stove on you set a pan down, cracking the eggs with a small sizzle as they hit the metal. 

“Up already?” You didn’t hear him wake but when you turn he’s propped up on an elbow watching you. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not technically a lie. 

“Are you okay?” He sits up a bit and you can feel him sizing you up. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

You aren’t really. 

But you can’t really tell him why, so why bother. 

He stretches his arms above his head as he gets up, making his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and resting his head on your shoulder as you flip the eggs. 

“Hungry?” You’re desperate to think about anything but your dreams, as you speak his grip around your waist tightens. 

“I could eat.” You shudder for several reasons as his teeth graze your neck before nipping at you. 

“These should be done in a few minutes, I just gotta make the toast.” You laugh softly as the scruff of his beard brushes against you. 

He makes it too easy to forget your fears. 

“Mhmm.” The vibrations from his humming make you gasp, nearly dropping the spatula in your hand as he squeezes you for a moment. You work around his advances, putting the bread in the toaster as one of his hands slips under your shirt. 

“How many do you want?” You hold up the bread in front of him, trying to get him to pay attention but it’s getting difficult to stay focused on your task when something is currently pressing against your ass. 

“I think I’m fine with just this.” He squeezes the bare flesh of your torso making you yelp a bit as his hand drifts further up. 

“What happened to your third date rule?” He groans as you reach over to the stove, turning the burner off to keep the eggs from burning before turning around in his arms, your back pressed against the counter. 

“We should go to dinner tonight.” He smiles before leaning forward to kiss you but you put a hand between his mouth and yours. 

“What makes you think I’ve forgiven you enough to warrant another date?”

He pouts. His bottom lip sticking out a bit as he frowns. 

“Wouldn’t matter if I did anyway, it would only be the second date.” You shrug. 

“Last night was the second date.” He says rather matter of factly. 

“That didn’t count.” You can’t help the smile that threatens to form on your as his frown deepens. 

“So you wanna wait for two more dates.” 

Definitely not.

“Tonight?” For a brief moment you try and think of anything else you might be doing but you don’t exactly have a social life here in Honey. 

“S’gotta be, I’m spending tomorrow with Ellie and then I’ll be busy with work, gotta catch up on some things.”

Why would he need to catch up if he’s been busy all week?

“Tonight works.” Even after what he put you through you still feel the strangest pull towards him, dragging him to the table with you as you set down a couple plates. 

“I’ll be here at eight?” He sits, an accomplished look on his face. 

“Works for me.”

You have an uneventful breakfast. 

Neither one of you talks about his disappearing act. And eventually he has to leave for work and so do you, so he gets his things together once you eat.

“Get dressed, I’ll drive you to Maria’s, I gotta pick up Tommy anyway.” He takes a sip of whatever juice you had left over in the fridge as you nod, finding something clean to wear before following him out to the truck. 

He makes it too easy.

He smiles like everything is fine and he holds your hand as he drives.

“Have a good day at work.” You return his smile and he leans across the truck cab to kiss your forehead.

“You too, I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You wave at him as you walk up to the house, Tommy’s just leaving, giving you a pat on the back as he passes you before jumping in the truck with his brother. With a weak smile you watch them go. 

There are no bodies today.

It’s a paperwork day for both of you. You know Maria’s dying to ask about what happened but she never does, just staring up at you every once in a while, always looking like she’s about to say something before choosing not to. 

You decide to throw her a bone. 

“I’m having dinner with Joel tonight.” You can’t ignore the surprised smile on her face. 

“I’m glad you two seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah, apparently he got caught up in his work for a few days.” You try and get a reaction out of her but she goes emotionless, giving you only a hum in response. 

You don’t try to start another conversation after that until you say good night at the end of your shift. Giving her a small wave before stepping into the misty evening air. 

You keep your eyes on the trees the entire walk home but nothing seems out of sorts and before you know it you’re safe in the camper.

You’re dressed and ready to go when the truck pulls up. You aren’t sure where exactly you’re supposed to be going but you’re ready nonetheless, deciding on just jeans and a plain tshirt. What you aren’t expecting is when Joel steps out of the truck with grocery bags and a grin plastered on his face.

“I thought we could cook together.” He says as he makes his way up the steps inside. 

“You know how to cook?” You try not to sound as surprised as you are but he just laughs. 

“I have two kids. I know how to cook.” He sets the bag on the counter and you open it, he’s brought bread, cheese, and cans of tomato soup. 

“What exactly do you plan on cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and any worries you had about tonight go out the window. 

“You really went all out for tonight.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He nods, searching through the cabinets for a pan and a pot. 

“When you said cook together you meant you cook and I watch, right?” You lift yourself up onto the counter as he lights the stove. 

“Obviously.” He sets everything down and you watch him fish around the top of the fridge for a few seconds before pulling down a rather dusty old radio. “I knew she had one somewhere.” He grins as he sets it down beside you, plugging it in and fidgeting with the knobs until the static turns into music. 

You don’t recognize the song that plays but he does, as he hums along, opening the two cans, emptying them into the pot. 

You had been so nervous about tonight, nightmares aside, you had expected a totally different Joel, the kind of person who ignores you for a week and expects immediate forgiveness. But instead he continues to be just Joel. Joel, who’s very presence lulls you into an overpowering sense of comfort. The moment he stepped inside the camper the entire space became heavy with his cologne, everything smells like the forest, as if you’re surrounded by pine trees and not the four walls around you. 

“We should do something this week.” He turns to you as he butters the bread, setting it in the pan with a quiet sizzle. 

“Don’t you have work, and Ellie?” You tear open the plastic wrapper on the cheese, handing him a few slices. 

“I do, but I can get Tommy to watch her for a night.” He tosses them down onto the bread before opening a drawer, riffling around until he finds a spatula. 

You hum along to the music with him when the song changes to something familiar, watching him cook. 

He looks at home with you, like he belongs right here. 

You both laugh your way through dinner, it’s outrageous how charming he can be, he tells you about the house he’s building, and how his brother ordered the wrong kind of cement. (You didn’t know there was a wrong kind.) And he tells you about how Ellie’s picked up some curse words, apparently there’s quite an argument happening between the Millers regarding who she learned them from. 

You’ve always been hesitant to talk about work, especially on dates because you never know how people are going to react. Not everyone has the same relationship with death that you have. So when he says, how has working for Maria been? You aren’t exactly sure what to say. 

“It’s good.” 

“That’s it? It’s good?” He looks up at you, giving you that lopsided fucking smirk and you can’t help but just melt at the sight of it. 

“We’ve been… busy, lots of work the last few days, now we’re just funeral planning, this week we’ve got a funeral pretty much everyday, Maria’s swamped.” 

“What made you choose this line of work?”

You never really know how to answer that question. 

“Because I like to play with dead things.” Never gets the laugh you hope for, and the real answer just makes you sad.  

“I like to fix things.” You instinctively break eye contact, staring down at an uneven floor board you’d never noticed before under the table. “I like knowing that I can help people in that way, to fix them one last time.” 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, when you look back up at him he simply looks at you with something that resembles yearning. 

“That’s nice.” 

You’re glad he thinks so. 

He takes the dishes, rinsing them in the sink despite your protests. 

Your palms are getting clammy. 

This is, by his count, your third date. 

Is it weird that this feels scheduled? It was different when you’d brought him home after your first date, that felt natural, your body innately wanted to be with him. How do you even start this kind of thing when it feels so planned? You both know what you want but it feels strange to just outright say, so is this the part where we have sex? 

He dries his hands on his jeans and clears his throat as he turns back to you, holding his hand out, you aren’t really sure what he’s doing until he pulls you up from your seat, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It isn’t the kind of song you can slow dance to, it’s fast and upbeat.

But as far as you can tell, Joel isn’t the kind of guy who dances in the first place, so you bring your free hand up to his shoulder and join him in his attempts to dance. 

I heat up, I can't cool down

You got me spinning

There isn’t a lot of floor space in the camper but he makes it work by holding you close and mostly just spinning you as he nods along to the music.

'Round and 'round

'Round and 'round and 'round it goes

If his goal was to put you at ease then it’s working, any remaining nerves you have fizzled out completely. You laugh in earnest, not out of fear, as he bumps his nose against yours. 

Where it stops nobody knows

Every time you call my name

I heat up like a burning flame

Burning flame full of desire

Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher

He keeps his forehead flush with yours as you continue to sway your hips back and forth to the beat, the both of you laughing and spinning, you watch curiously as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. 

Abra abracadabra

I wanna reach out and grab ya

Abra abracadabra

Abracadabra

With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes, his gaze going from simple infatuation to something darker. When the song ends he pulls you close, so you’re chest to chest and reaches over, turning down the radio. 

“So…” You can’t stop smiling as you stare at him through your lashes. 

“So.” He gently guides you, his hands on your hips as he walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

“I’ve got a long day tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.” You give him an exaggerated yawn and point at the bed, plastering a mock apologetic look on your face. 

“You’re really funny.” He leans down to give you a chaste kiss before picking you up. His strength is still a wonder to you. 

The way he throws you down onto your bed makes you erupt into a fit of giggles but he certainly isn’t laughing anymore as he drags you by your ankles to the edge of the mattress, a look of concentration on his face now. 

“Joel!” You shriek as you hear the tearing of the zipper on your jeans. 

“M’sorry.” He grumbles, making no effort to slow down as he tugs them down. 

He doesn’t sound sorry.

“It’s a zipper, just unzip it for Christ's sake.” His sudden change in demeanor leaves you a little breathless, in the blink of an eye he’s gone from remarkably gentle to practically unhinged.

“S’too late for that.” He groans softly as he kneels on the camper floor, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 

“You owe me a new pair-” Your voice trails off into a stuttered moan as his mouth latches onto the front of your panties, dragging his tongue over the wet spot that’s been forming all night. 

“We can go to the mall sometime this week.” He mumbles against your cunt before you feel his teeth grazing the fabric before tearing it apart completely. 

“Jesus, Joel!” Instinctively your hands grip his hair as he buries his face between your legs. 

How sharp are his teeth? 

He’s all consuming. Like he’s trying to lay claim to every single part of you. And he’s loud, it’s a good thing you don’t have neighbors. Lewd slurping noises as he laps at your dripping hole like it’s his fucking job. 

He flattens his tongue, dragging it through your folds, for a moment you aren’t sure what he’s doing, but it feels fucking amazing. The way his tongue moves in and out of you, occasionally drawing a lazy circle around your clit, it isn’t like anything anyones ever done before. It takes you a moment to realize that he isn’t necessarily trying to make you feel good (despite the effect it may be having on you,) you’re pretty sure he’s tasting you. 

Drinking you in. If he’s trying to get you off it’s only because he wants more. 

“S’ so sweet.” He mumbles against your thigh, biting the meat there making you cry out a bit before he returns to his work between your legs. 

“Joel- fuck, Joel please.” You manage to stutter out between gasps, when did he become so gruff? You never could have predicted that he would be like this in bed, his grip on you is certain to leave bruises and you can barely think straight after just a few minutes with his head between your thighs. The noises he makes as his lips wrap around your clit are down right pornagraphic. Your vision is starting to go white around the edges as he does the first gentle thing since he started, sucking that bundle of nerves almost lazily. Through shuttered breaths you manage to mumble out his name a few more times your vision whites out completely. 

You’re a little surprised at how quickly he manages to pull an orgasm from you, your skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat as you sit up, pulling him up by his hair as you crash your lips against his, tasting your own slick on his tongue. He moves so feverishly as you feel his hands spreading you again, teasing your entrance with two fingers before slowly pushing them in. 

“Joel- oh my god-” He silences your rambling with his mouth again, swallowing your groan once he’s knuckle deep inside you. His brows furrow in concentration as he starts to pump them in and out of you. “P-please.” You stammer out. 

It’s such a sharp contrast to the Joel you’re used to, he’s so… unruly. 

“So fucking tight.” He mutters before grinding his palm against your clit, pulling another series of gasps from your throat. “Such a pretty, tight, wet cunt.” He whispers against your jaw and you feel a third finger pushing into you. 

You hadn’t expected him to be so vulgar, turns out he’s only all southern manners outside of the bedroom. You’re starting to see stars all over again as you feel the stretch of his thick fingers, he nips at your jaw before pressing them in deep, focusing on grinding the heel of his palm into your clit until you’re soaking his hand, hands tugging at his hair as a second orgasm is ripped out of you with a shudder. Your head falls back with a noisy whine, you can’t decide if you want more or less, his touch burns your skin but you feel so cold without it.  

“Please, please Joel.” You exhale the words, scratching lightly at his shoulders with a whine. 

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is lower than ever and you watch as he unzips his jeans, shoving them off and taking his cock in between his fingers, still slick with your release. Your eyes go wide as he strokes himself a few times, he’s thick, hefty, you’re trying not to stare slack-jawed at the way he fills his own hand.  You grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off in an attempt to feel more of his skin against you.

“Fuck me… please.” You tack on the please at the end hoping he doesn’t make you wait much longer as you gawk at his pretty tan skin. You don’t even know where to look, you run your fingers through the coarse sprinkle of black and gray hair on his chest as he crawls further up the bed to hover above you.

He takes your thighs, pushing them up against your stomach, his eyes dark with something reminiscent of hunger. You hook your own arms around your knees to keep yourself in that position as he takes hold of his cock once more, guiding himself into you with a strangled groan.

“Christ…” He mumbles under his breath as he slides just the tip of himself in, your own breath hitching at the size of him. He tilts head town, pressing a soft kiss to your chin. 

He splays his palms out on your thighs, leveraging himself as he carefully rocks his hips back and forth, slowly working himself into you. The camper fills with the sounds of your collective noises. Joel is loud. Grunting and growling as he fully buries himself in your heat. 

He scans your face for signs of distress, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the tiniest sting from the stretch pulls a whine out of you but you only nod as he stares into your eyes. 

“More, Joel.”

Once he has your approval he starts moving, setting a pace that for a few thrusts is slow before picking up. Quickly becoming downright brutal, every slam of his pelvis against yours drives his cock deeper into you. He feels as if he was made for this, he’s just big enough that it doesn’t hurt, simply an overwhelming feeling of fullness. 

Your body begins to tense up all over again, you wrap your arms around his torso as much as you can in this position, scratching at his back. He leans forward, going in for a kiss before moving around your face, kissing your jaw, forehead, nose, and temples. When he kisses the apples of your cheeks you feel his tongue darting out. 

Did he just lick up a tear? 

He snaps his hips forward, disrupting your train of thought, his teeth barred as he does so, eyes fixed on every one of your reactions. He’s practically snarling as you let your head fall back against the mattress, the head of his cock driving into your g-spot.

“Wanna come again already, bunny?” You make a real spectacle of yourself, hooking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper. “Greedy little thing…”

“Joel please-”

“Joel please.” He mocks. “Is that all you can say now?” You keen softly but he only grins as you tighten around him. 

“P-please…” You squeak out as he snaps hips forward once more. 

“Come again, I wanna feel this pretty cunt come.” He snarls against your neck, leaving a trail of bites until he reaches your shoulder, a particularly harsh bite has you crying out.

“Joel!” You grit your teeth, a wave of heat washes over you as you come one last time, you feel his tongue dragging across the bite mark. 

It’s all so close to being painful.

Your stomach aches from the overstimulation, and you register a faint stinging feeling when he laps at the bite. Your walls clench around him, strangling his cock, and his hands instantly leave your legs, gripping the sheets instead.  

“Fuck, fuck.” He barely pulls out in time, coming on your stomach. You reach down in your haze, scooping some of his load onto your finger before sliding them between your lips. 

Fucking salted caramel. 

Sweet and sticky on your tongue. 

He pants above you, watching with an intoxicated look as you dip your fingers into his cum over and over again until your stomach is bare.

He nudges his nose against yours, rubbing every part of his face against you for a few minutes. It’s wildly intimate and you're once again a little taken aback by his sudden tone shift. 

“Was that okay?” He drawls, once again searching your face for any indication that you might not be. 

You nod, beaming up at him and letting him rest the bridge of his nose on yours for a few moments more before you slip out of his arms, stepping into the bathroom. You relieve yourself before going to sort yourself out in the mirror. 

You’re bleeding. 

Where he bit you, two mirroring crescents, red and angry on your shoulder, leaking blood. 

“Shit.” You grab a handful of toilet paper, wiping it clean before rinsing it in the sink and returning to him.  

“Everything okay?” He’s pulled his boxers on, tossing you his shirt which you’re eager to put on. You don’t want him to see the bite. 

“Everything’s fine.” You crawl back up into the bed beside him. 

He stays the night, pulling you to his chest and caging you in with his arms. 

And you aren’t haunted by dreams. 

In the morning a part of you worries he’ll disappear all over again, you’re a little surprised when he texts you just a few minutes after he drives off.  [ can’t wait to see you again soon bunny ]

Joel follows through on his promise. 

A few days later he picks you up from work and drives you to the outlet mall about an hour away, saying he needs to get some stuff for Ellie as well. Apparently she likes to throw plates so he wants to find the kind that suction onto the table. As he drives the radio plays a country song you don’t recognize which he hums along to as you watch the trees outside the window. 

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about my aunt.” He turns the music down once you start speaking. 

“Darlene? You probably know her better than I do.” He doesn’t seem very eager to talk about her but it only makes you want to know more. 

“Doubt it. All I know about her is that she wasn’t close with anyone in my family.”

“You weren’t close? But she left you her camper.”

“That’s why I need to know anything you might know about her, I know nothing.” He seems hesitant and you’re worried if you keep pushing it he won’t tell you anything at all. 

“She was a lonely old woman, had me fix things for her often, I honestly think she just wanted company.” His voice softens a bit as he says it. 

“She didn’t have friends here in Honey?” 

“Not that I know of, she was a bit of a shut in, sweetest woman I’ve ever met, just a bit… skittish. She worked from home and I’m pretty sure someone delivered her groceries. The only time I ever saw her outside was when I was fixing her roof and she sat in a lawn chair to talk to me while I did.” 

“She worked from home?” 

“Yeah, something on her laptop, I’m not entirely sure.” You’ve never seen a laptop. 

You’ve been living in the camper for nearly six months and you’ve never seen a laptop. 

But that’s not what interests you the most right now. 

“What do you mean by skittish?” You’re trying to gauge his reaction but he doesn’t seem to have one. 

“Maybe skittish isn’t the right word. Eccentric? Some of the kids in town called her ditzy Darlene.” His expression sours as he says it. 

“That’s horrible.”

“It was.”

“Why?” He seems more reluctant than ever but now you’re just upset on behalf of the woman who left you everything.

“She fed into a lot of the legends around town, and didn't seem to have any hobbies outside of monster hunting.”

“Monster hunting?”

“She was the only local who went to the gift shops, searching for a monster she swears she saw.”

Sounds familiar.

“Did she ever find any?” 

“Monsters?” He laughs. “Not that I know of.”

“Did you think she was crazy?”

“I think she was lonely, and I think when you spend that much time alone your mind can wander.”

“But did you think she was crazy?” 

“No.” He puts an end to the conversation by putting the truck in park. You hadn’t even realized you were there, the outlet mall is so small. His southern manners remain persistent as he jogs around the truck to open your door for you, holding onto you to provide balance as you hop out.

You aren’t sure where anything is so you just follow him, taking his hand in yours as you walk. He takes you into a clothing store you don’t recognize the name of and waits patiently as you try on a few different pairs of jeans. It’s been quite some time since you’ve bought new clothes so you get a few pairs, you’re worried it’s boring for him to just wait outside the changing room but when you walk out with three pairs slung over your arm he still looks happy as can be. When you go to pay he opens his wallet, silencing your protests with a reminder that it’s his fault you needed new jeans in the first place. 

After that he takes his time, the two of you walk hand in hand through each store, he doesn’t even look around most of them, seemingly content with just spending time with you. 

He manages to find a few rubber bowls with suction cup bottoms for Ellie as well as some spanish flashcards and you decide to get a pair of blue hiking boots, if you’re gonna be walking everywhere you might as well be comfortable. 

At the last store you stop at you find a nice perfume, spraying a bit into the air and inhaling. It reminds you of springtime, it’s light, floral, but when Joel catches a whiff of it he scrunches his nose up. 

“You don’t like it?” You set the bottle back down. 

“I like the way you smell now.” You frown, trying to remember what shampoo and body wash you’ve been using. If you recall correctly it’s just some generic brand you’d bought ages ago. 

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish?” You remark, pointing at the bag containing the cards, opting to just change the subject rather than give yourself a headache trying to remember. 

“I don’t, but Sarah does and she’s been insisting I teach Ellie while she’s gone, something about it being better if she’s bilingual.”

“I think that’s sweet.” You swing your arms a bit, keeping his hand in yours as he walks you out of the store and in the direction of the truck. 

“Of course you think it’s sweet, you're not the one with two daughters who will be using their secret language against you.” He takes his keys from his pocket, clicking the unlock button. 

“It’s not a secret language, if your baby can learn it then I’m sure you can.” He helps you up into the truck once more, shutting the door behind you.

It’s almost comically difficult to keep your hands off him when you’re alone, especially now that you have a taste for him. Even just being in the truck with the windows up is suffocating, the smell of his aftershave or his laundry detergent drives you mad the moment you’re stuck in an enclosed space with him. 

You slide across the truck so you’re in the middle seat as he pulls out of the parking lot. It’s like you feel sick when you aren’t touching him, like you’re suffering from this barely noticeable nausea and you don’t realize you were even dealing with it until it’s gone. 

You watch curiously as he keeps one hand on the wheel and brings the other to rest on your thigh. His shoulders relax the moment he does, his frown lines smooth themselves out a bit. 

He’s just so warm, and he’s so nice to be near. Today he smells like a candle you used to have, something you lit around Christmas time. He smells like cookies and peppermint. 

You can’t help but turn your head a bit, trying to discreetly inhale the scent of his jacket.

To say that Joel Miller becomes the perfect boyfriend would be an understatement. 

He drives you to work, he sends you flowers, (which gets confusing in a funeral home.) he holds open doors, and he always texts you back. 

Quite literally everything gets better once he’s back in your life. 

You don’t get anymore mangled bodies, only a few from the nursing home and one from a nearby hospital, it’s mostly just funeral planning these days. You see Joel daily, Maria and Tommy seem a little surprised every time he dotes on you and you can’t help but wonder what he’s done to earn such a reaction, but he’s so sweet you hardly care. Between both of you working and him having a toddler you’re shocked he makes as much time for you as he does. You see him every morning when he takes you into work but he also insists on seeing you twice a week, whether it’s going out, or ordering in, or just dragging him into your bed, he always makes time for you. 

You even spend a little time with Ellie. Joel spends a lot of time with her at the funeral home so you often see her in little doses, she seems indifferent towards you which worries you until you realize she acts that way towards everyone but her father. It’s remarkable to watch him with her, he’s soft with you but with her it’s something else entirely. She sticks to him like glue and you’ve never once seen him look bothered by that fact, you assume she’d get bored just sitting in his arms but she never does. He likes to tell her jokes and you aren’t even sure she understands them but without fail she bursts into a fit of giggles every time he gets to the punchline. 

It’s good with him, everything is easier. Everything just sort of makes sense with Joel and for the first time in a long time everything feels right. 

Until the morning you wake up, a sticky feeling between your legs and an ache in your belly.

“Shit.” You roll out of bed, quickly shedding your clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before texting Joel.

[ hot date idea for us, you drive me to the laundromat and then watch me do my laundry ] 

Setting your phone down you hop into the shower, washing away the blood with a groan, you spend far too long under the water, when you finally step out and check your phone you’re running late, you pull open the curtains a bit to see if Joel’s already waiting for you but much to your confusion you aren’t met with the familiar sight of the truck.

You had never really discussed him driving you to work; it was just something he’d started doing, you probably shouldn’t have expected it to be a permanent thing. 

You haphazardly pull yourself together, tossing on whatever looks clean before grabbing your phone and bag, rushing out the door. 

The cool morning air stings your face as you quickly walk down the familiar gravel driveway towards the home, you’re already preparing your excuse for why you’re so late but Maria doesn’t even notice as you step into the office, she’s busy on a call.

You recognize the look on her face, she’s talking to a family. You step inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk as you wait. She seems to be at the end of the conversation. 

You couldn’t be more grateful that she takes care of telling the families. You’ve never been good at that kind of thing. She hangs up with a gentle, goodbye, smiling up at you as you try and imagine a situation in which your job was to deliver such terrible news. 

The ache in your stomach snaps you back to reality. 

Fuck. You forgot to bring anything.

“Any chance you have a pad?” You give her an apologetic look.

Based on her expression you’d think you’d just asked her for a lung. Several emotions flash across her face in an instant, but mostly she looks like someone who just solved a riddle that had been plaguing them for quite some time. She snaps out of it quickly though, giving you a curt nod. 

“Of course, let me just run upstairs.”

It’s an older man, graying and wearing what is obviously hiking gear.

Poor guy. 

He’s torn apart, the worst you’ve seen so far, his limbs have all been individually torn off, they lay, separated from the rest of him on the table. 

It’s an open casket so you’re gonna be down here all day. 

You text Joel one last time before setting your phone down. 

[ gonna be pretty busy all day, got another bear attack, i’ll call you when i’m on my way home. ] 

With that you get to work, putting on your gown and gloves, and starting at the torn clothes. It’s hard to figure out where his clothes start and his skin ends with the condition his body is in but you manage to cut him out of everything so you can properly assess the damage. 

You’re getting used to seeing these messy wounds, the sight of torn flesh. It should be a pretty easy job all things considered. He’ll be in a suit so you’ll just reattach everything and no one will ever have to see the extent of his wounds. 

You check everything twice, making sure that you’ve got the left and right correct before you start sewing things back up. You try to mimic the way you saw Maria do it, careful and practiced stitches.

You finish the legs easily enough, both had been ripped off just above the knee, you’re about to start on the arms when you drop the needle in surprise. 

How didn’t you realize this before? 

You’ve been preparing these bodies for weeks now and you’ve never once noticed one harrowing detail. You’re used to tending to bodies that have already seen a pathologist. Bodies with their organs in a bag, with their blood drained, ready to be prepared for a funeral or cremation. And you’ve been so focused on doing a good job to impress Maria that you’ve failed to take note of the most obvious thing before you. 

There’s no blood. 

None of the bodies you’ve tended to from the bear attacks have blood, all of their organs remain intact but because Maria declares cause of death you know she doesn’t drain them. You’ve drained everyone who hasn’t been sent in from a bear attack. 

Maybe Maria drained them before you got in.

But that isn’t possible, you know that, you’d have seen the equipment, and you’ve gotten bodies straight from the scene, already drained. 

You reach over to grab a scalpel off the table. 

You shouldn’t do this. You could probably be fired for it, but as long as no one finds out you’ll be fine. All the damage to this cadaver has been done to its limbs, so hypothetically, if you were to slice open his chest you would see blood, dried or otherwise. 

So you do just that. 

You carve out a small, clean, incision vertically on his sternum. 

Nothing. 

You’ve got a pen flashlight that you shine into his chest cavity only to find his organs. Dry. 

He’s been completely drained of his blood. 

You stitch him up quickly, finishing the job as swiftly as possible before running up the stairs, mumbling a rushed excuse to Maria before running the entire way home. 

Joel doesn’t text you back. 

This isn’t happening, not again, he wouldn’t do this again. 

You feel like you’re gonna be sick. 

An image flashes through your mind. 

Joel.

Lips curled back in a snarl. 

No. That wasn’t real, it was just a dream. Although the line between the two has been getting blurrier. 

Joel isn’t out there draining people of their blood, that’s absurd, even if he goes missing and those dates happen to coincide with the days that you get bloodless corpses. 

It’s a coincidence. 

Or it isn’t. 

Maybe for one second you should just let yourself consider the possibility that something is terribly wrong. 

You thoroughly check the two bodies you get the next day. 

They come in together, a couple from out of state hiking in the park. Neither one of them bleeds. 

The day after that you wake up early and walk to the funeral home as the sun rises. You watch the hearse wheel in the body, and you make sure you’re the first person to see her. 

A tragically beautiful woman who appears to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties. 

None of her wounds are bloody, and when you open her chest cavity it’s like someone drank her insides with a straw. 

You’re nearly at your breaking point, nothing you’re looking at makes any sense. 

You spend that night in bed, unable to sleep as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. 

Joel doesn’t answer your calls. 

He doesn’t respond to your several angry texts. 

And something deep down within you tells you that asking Maria would be a mistake. 

You’re completely alone on this. 

So you call Maria and you tell her that you’re sick and won’t be in tomorrow. Then you look up the bus schedule in and out of town.

The bus comes in and out of Honey twice, every other day. Lucky for you, today is one of the days the bus will be there in the morning, and return in the evening. 

The bus stop is empty when you arrive, the misty morning air clings to your skin as you stare out into the surrounding forest. 

Something is out there. 

And you’re gonna find out what it is.

You can’t keep being afraid, this is your home now, and you won’t be driven away by some imaginary monster. 

It starts to drizzle when you look out the window of the bus, watching Honey disappear behind you. 

You have a plan. 

Well sort of. 

You’re going to find some literature on the subject. You’re sick of feeling crazy so you’re going to prove yourself right. Something is very wrong in Honey, and monster or not, you’re going to figure it out. 

You don’t catch the name of the town you end up in, you just get off at the stop that looks the most tourist friendly, assuming that there has to be a book store somewhere in town. 

You only have to walk main street for a few minutes before you find it. 

It’s a quaint little shop tucked in between an attorney's office and a gift shop. 

Betty’s Books

Dimly lit and jam packed wall to wall with books, a small elderly woman sits behind the counter, reading a Stephen King novel. 

“Excuse me?” You clear your throat as she looks up at you over her wiry glasses. 

“How can I help you?” Her smile is warm, it fills the entire shop with an aura of comfort. 

You’re going to sound ridiculous. And the moment you do this you’ll be speaking it into existence. 

You don’t have any other options. 

“Do you have anything on local urban legends?” You try not to sound too ashamed but her smile never falters as she points. 

“Back left corner, dear.” 

“Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She’s already buried her nose back in her book before you turn towards the rest of the shop. 

You begin searching the shelves for anything that could possibly help you, there’s several different books on bigfoot and the loch ness monster. There are a lot of empty spaces between books and you have to assume that this is what most tourists are buying. 

People in search of ghosts and myths. 

Are you any better than them? 

Running out into the darkness, looking for a monster you very well may have made up. 

You look through a few more options before finally settling on a thick, leather bound book, you pull it from its place and stare down at the embossed cover. 

A Beginners Guide to Cryptozoology : West Virginian Monsters 

You aren’t going to find a better place to start. 

You move back towards the front, stopping in front of the children's section.

Lullabies & Poems for Bedtime 

A rabbit with a pocket watch, asleep under a tree, adorns the cover. 

Ellie might like that. 

Even if you’re madder than hell at her father. 

You grab the little white book, setting both onto the counter, paying before stepping out into the rain. You’ve got hours until the bus back to Honey returns so you quickly make your way to a diner across the street, keeping the books tucked into your jacket. 

A little bell chimes as you push the door open, sitting yourself at one of the free booths you set the books down on the table. 

The waitress brings you coffee and water as you set your jacket aside, you order a plate of fries just to give you something to do as you watch the rain on the diner windows for a bit. 

Eventually you know you can’t put it off anymore so you open up the book and sit back, taking care to read every single page, not wanting to miss a thing. 

The first thing you learn is that there are a startling number of unnamed monsters. 

It covers the basics in the first few chapters, mothman, bigfoot, chupacabra, and werewolves, but the second half of the book is entirely monsters with no names, only ink drawing accompanying the descriptions. For a while you find nothing, eventually ordering a milkshake which you sip as you skim the pages.

After two hours you’re about to give up when you stumble across a page that finally shows something familiar. 

A drawing of a body, mangled, with wounds you recognize. 

Five slashes across the chest, both arms completely torn off. 

This creature is thought to reside only in heavily wooded areas, it was speculated to be located in the southern United States for several decades before disappearing completely. 

Since then people have claimed to have seen this creature in many different locations although the majority seem to be centralized to the east coast of North America, resembling a lich, or a wendigo. 

When you turn the page the illustration of the monster stares back at you. 

It’s hard to make out what’s what and it looks mostly like inky scribbles but within those lines you see the creature you’ve been imagining. Long, sharp limbs, massive shoulders, and a face almost reminiscent of a humans, everything is just… distorted. 

While technically unnamed, there are many unique pieces of folklore attached to this specific creature. Witnesses claim to have seen this monster transform from human to creature and vice versa, as if they walk among us in their free time. 

What sets the creature apart from many other creatures of this variety is their affinity for humans. More often than not we’ve gotten reports of these creatures seeking out human mates.

We have several different claims from people saying they’ve seen the transformation happen right before their very eyes. One man claimed to have watched his sister in law turn at Thanksgiving dinner. Another says that he saw a cousin's boyfriend disappear into the woods during a wedding, transforming into a beast as he did. 

According to old legends there is thought to be a connection between these creatures and their mates, quite literally bonding them in blood. The males are believed to be linked to their human mates menstrual cycles; if they have one, the females are linked to their own. There are many different descriptions of what this means for human mates. Some believe that when this creature comes in contact with their mate that they permanently revert to their human forms. Others believe they’re hunger for flesh only grows after coming in contact with them.

But most believe that they eat their mate. Plain and simple. That their blood is more potent to them than anyone else’s, so much so that any love they may harbor for them is irrelevant, they are simply blinded by their bloodlust. 

Its victims often resemble that of an animal attack. Bodies torn apart, mangled, often believers of this legend are ‘disproven’ because of this fact, but there is always one thing that separates this creature's kills from that of an animal. Animals who eat their victims will do exactly that, eat them, this creature does no such thing, while it does massacre its victims it will rarely consume its flesh, preferring the taste of blood. 

There have been no confirmed sightings of these creatures and we have been unable to trace its origins or obtain any photographic evidence, maybe it really is just an animal. 

Monster or bear? It’s up to you.

It’s up to you. 

You slam the book shut.

It’s nonsense. 

Joel isn’t some blood drinking, period monster. But you came all this way, looking for a monster, and seemingly you’ve found it. 

You pick up the little book for Ellie, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Maybe it’ll make you feel better. 

You open it to find a familiar little song on the inside of the cover.

I know you,

I walked with you once upon a dream. 

You flip through it, mostly admiring the beautiful illustrations, they look like watercolors. There’s a frog with a crown, princesses with flowing gowns and witches grinning up at you from the pages. It isn’t until some random page in the middle that you actually stop to read the poem. The drawing accompanying this one isn’t colorful, only black ink, a drastic change from everything so far. 

Jabberwocky

By: Lewis Carroll 

It unsettles you to look at so you focus on the words instead. You know this creature, it’s from Alice in Wonderland. The poem is whimsical, you can imagine a child finding it rather entertaining should a parent read it with enthusiasm. You don’t have a parent reading it to you though, you’re alone, staring at the lines that have caught your eye. 

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

No more books today. 

When you check your phone there are no new notifications. So Joel is either a terrible boyfriend or a potential murderer. 

How comforting. 

Fuck it. 

You click on his contact.

[ TEXT ME BACK RIGHT NOW. OR WE’RE THROUGH. ] 

Monsters aren’t real. 

Joel Miller is just the worst boyfriend (soon to be ex-boyfriend) on the planet. 

It doesn’t help that you catch a glimpse of a tampon wrapper in your bag when you throw your phone back into it. 

It’s a coincidence. 

You can’t say anything to anyone about this, how would it look if ditzy Darlene’s niece showed up and started spinning stories of her own? You can’t do it, you know exactly what people would say. They’d say it ran in the family and they’d find a reason to be cruel to her even in death. 

So you take the bus home in silence. 

For the next few days barely speak to Maria other than polite greetings, you’re certain she doesn’t notice, both of you are swamped. You’ve got a body everyday the rest of the week and she’s up to her neck in paperwork. 

And Joel never texts.

Maria’s juggling Ellie and trying to fill out papers when you get in the next morning. 

“Thank god you’re here, can you run upstairs and grab something for me, there’s a little makeup bag on the counter in the bathroom, I forgot it earlier and I’m waiting on a phone call regarding the couple we had.” 

“Of course.” You set your things down before reaching for Ellie. “Here, let me take her so you can do that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.” Almost as if on cue the phone rings the moment she says it. You head towards the stairs, the toddler in your arms scrunches up her face as if trying to recall your identity. 

“You know me, silly, I’m friends with your daddy.” At the mention of her father she seems to relax and you open the door at the top of the stairs. 

You’ve never actually been in this part of the house before, you’ve always stayed in the business section. You don’t get a chance to look around, the bathroom is the first door on your left. A bag the size of a pencil box is on the counter, you hand it to Ellie, her little hands play with the bag as you carefully bounce her in your arms. 

“Do you know where your daddy is?” You poke her in the belly making her smile at you for the first time. “Not gonna snitch?” You tickle her side, earning a tiny giggle. You let her play with the zipper as you bring her back downstairs. “Any bodies today?” You yell as you descend the stairs. 

“Had a cremation from the home this morning, I’ve just got a lot of papers, I’m planning six funerals simultaneously right now.” 

Six massacred corpses in six days. 

“Where’s Tommy?” Ellie puts up a bit of a fight for the bag but you set it down on the desk just in time to watch Marias grip on her pen tighten. 

Yikes. Must be a sore spot right now. 

“He’s got a work thing, left me with that little monster.” She uses the pen to point at the toddler who’s already starting to get antsy in your arms. 

If you’ve got no bodies today you might as well offer to help.

“I can watch Ellie if you’d like.” 

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, want me to keep her upstairs? I’m sure you don’t want me watching her in the basement.” You laugh a little as she nods. 

“You really are a lifesaver, I don’t know how I managed without you.” 

“Oh stop, you clearly did just fine before I came along.” Your face gets a bit hot at the compliment. 

“I’ll be up in a few hours once I finish up here, you two have fun.” She doesn’t give any instruction beyond that so you just take Ellie back upstairs. You haven’t spent much time with her beyond the small interactions in passing but you know she doesn’t like doing nothing unless it’s with Joel. She’s trying to get out of your arms the second you’re at the top of the stairs. You set her down in the entryway and she’s already running into the kitchen. 

You don’t want to snoop but you actually get to take a good look around as Ellie settles in front of a pile of notebooks and a mess of crayons on the kitchen floor. It’s a pretty open floor plan, the kitchen and living room are all one big room and from the looks of it they must watch Ellie often, an outsider would assume they have a child of their own. A play pen is set up on the floor of the living room and toys are scattered everywhere. 

“Are you hungry, sweetie? Do you want something to eat?” There’s different snacks on the counter as you walk over to where she’s playing. 

“Yes please.” Her voice is clear and high pitched, you’re actually a little surprised, you didn’t even know she could talk, she’s always silent when you’re around. There’s an assortment of different things on the counter so you just find something that’s already open. Handing her a little container of apple puffs, she doesn’t look up from her drawings, just blindly reaching over and grabbing a handful as you sit at the counter to watch over her. 

She’s a very well behaved baby all things considered. 

You have to stop her from drawing on the walls a few times and at one point she stuffed a handful of food between the couch cushions but other than that she’s rather relaxed. She sits and draws mostly, only occasionally getting up and doing a few laps around the room before returning to her papers. 

At one point she makes her way to where you’re sitting, slapping your leg to get your attention until you pick her up, she points to the window above the sink and when you take her there she simply stares out at the trees. 

She’s focused on the woods as you watch her expression, her face is oddly serious. 

After a few minutes you set her down, unease filling your body. She doesn’t seem to mind though as she runs back to her drawings, you return to the counter, checking your phone for a few minutes until she appears in your peripherals once more, tapping your leg again, handing you one of her drawings. 

At several different moments this week you’ve thought that you’ve reached your breaking point. 

None of those compare to how you feel when you pick up the paper Ellie had been scribbling on. 

It’s crude and mostly indiscernible but you know exactly what you’re looking at. 

A monster. 

A broad shouldered, sharp toothed, crayon monster. 

You stare at the little girl, trying to keep your composure as you pick her up, setting her in your lap and pointing at the mess of scribbles on the page. 

You feel crazier than ever, asking a toddler for help but no one else is around and you’re running out of options. 

“Can you tell me what that is, sweetie? What did you draw?” You hand her the drawing back which she crumples a bit in her fist before setting it on the counter, you point again at the creature. “Ellie, honey, can you tell me what this is please?” You’re doing your best to keep calm as she kicks her legs a bit before staring up at you with a frown. 

“Daddy?” For someone so small she speaks so loudly and clearly, but you just shake your head. 

“I know, honey, you want your daddy, I wish I knew where he was but you’re stuck with me today.” You smooth out her hair a bit as she scrunches up her face, looking rather upset. 

“Tío.” She points down at the drawing before looking back at you for approval, you just smile. You feel like an idiot. Asking a child for help. A child who can barely speak. 

“It’s okay, you’re too little to understand.” You hold her under one arm as you walk around the counter to the fridge. “How about I get you some juice.” 

You find a clean sippy cup, pouring her some apple juice before setting her back down, handing her the cup and searching through your bag. 

“I almost forgot, I got you a present.” She perks up immediately, setting her cup down as you hold the little white book out towards her.

“Thanks!” Her eyes light up as she takes it from you, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen her smile without her father being in the room, sitting on the floor before looking back up at you, tapping the spot next to her until you sit as well. 

“Do you want me to read it to you?” You watch as she sets it down in front of her, she’s surprisingly gentle as she flips open the cover. 

“No thank you.” She’s enraptured by the illustrations, not caring for the text, laying down on her stomach, and sitting up on her elbows as she slowly flips through the pages, her eyes wide as she points out everything she sees to you. You rub her back, nodding along, you’re mostly just happy that she’s excited. 

She kicks her feet as she explains the big red bird on the page to you. After a few more minutes of her babbling she turns the page again.

Jabberwocky 

She giggles wildly as she points at the page and suddenly you’re filled with dread all over again. She’s positively captivated by the drawing, refusing to turn to a different page when you urge her to move on.

You don’t speak again until Maria comes upstairs to check on her, when you do it’s to tell her you aren’t feeling well, and you’re going home.

You’re going on a monster hunt. 

There’s nothing left to do. You need to soothe your fears before you lose it completely and you aren’t going to stare at the trees and wonder for the rest of your life. 

You stop at one of the tourist traps in town, you need supplies for tonight. 

A camera. 

It’s an easy in and out stop. You buy a polaroid camera, and several packs of film. 

No one will believe you otherwise, you’ll be ridiculed the same way they did Darlene. You think of her as you walk back home, what if she was right about everything? She spent her life in fear of a monster no one believed in and they mocked her for it, and at the end of the day she might have been right. 

Maybe the monster is real and it isn’t Joel. 

Either way you’re going into the woods tonight. Your backpack is packed with the essentials, your water bottle, camera, an extra film pack, one of the knives from the kitchen (wrapped in a towel,) and a flashlight. 

Once you’re packed you put your boots and jacket on and head out. 

It’s like everything quiets down the moment you step outside. The forest hums, beckoning you in, and how could you refuse such an offer? 

You manage to keep your hands steady as you flip the switch on your flashlight, stepping into the trees. It feels so much colder now than it did when you were walking home. 

With dusk settling the sun is no longer there to keep you warm or to guide your way. You haven’t actually seen much of the forest, so you decide to walk in a straight line to avoid getting lost as you carefully step over a tangle of roots. As a child you loved nothing more than playing in the woods behind your house. But after just half an hour in these woods you suddenly resent the trees, they no longer bring you any comfort as you carry on into the cold dark night. You’re just about to give up and turn back around when suddenly something changes.  

Without warning and with seemingly no cause you feel a chill rush through your body, your hair standing on end. Your blood runs cold and you hear a sound you’re all too familiar with at this point. 

The tearing sound rips through the air. 

Your instincts tell you that you’ve become prey rather suddenly in this situation but you can’t turn back now, not when you can prove to yourself that you aren’t losing it. 

As quietly as possible you reach back into your pack, grabbing the camera already loaded with film and holding it in your free hand. The beam coming from your flashlight trembles slightly as you carry on towards the noise. 

It’s louder than it ever was in the dreams. In the dreams it was subdued, almost as if you subconsciously knew that it couldn’t hurt you. As you carry onward you can’t help but wonder if you’re just imagining it at this point. It doesn’t seem to get louder as you walk. It simply fills the air completely, you’re being directed purely by your instincts. You know it’s this way as you move forward a few more steps. 

You scan the trees with your light, seeing nothing out of the ordinary until you finally see it. Your finger instinctively flips off your flashlight. 

You almost didn’t catch it. 

But your legs keep moving and you get closer and closer to the hunched figure. 

It’s hard to describe, like your eyes don’t want to accept what you’re seeing. A voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re getting too close but you can’t seem to stop yourself as you carry on until you can get a good look at it. 

You can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you realize it isn’t Joel. But that relief only lasts a moment as you see what you’re actually dealing with. 

You aren’t sure how big it is. It’s big. That much is clear but it’s crouched down, it’s almost human, it may have once been human. You’re having trouble making out most of it in only the moonlight. It’s less broad than the illustrations you’ve seen, almost slim, with how close you are now you can see that it’s eating. 

A buck, one of the biggest ones you’ve ever seen is splayed out across some rocks. It’s stomach has been ripped open. You watch, with morbid fascination as it digs its maw deeper into the gore. 

How curious, it’s wearing clothes. Or at least the remains of some clothing, a bit of fabric clings to its crooked spine, it wears the tattered collar of a shirt like a necklace. Navy blue sweatpants stretch around the creature's waist, the fabric pulled taut, it looks like they make it just past its knees. The elastic around the ankles has snapped. 

The funniest part of all of this is that you feel nothing but fear for the creature. You aren’t disgusted and you certainly don’t hate it. You’re just afraid, so afraid that before you can slap your hand over your mouth you burst into a peal of laughter. 

Fuck. 

It all happens so fast, you aren’t ready in the slightest to be face to face with it and suddenly you are, purely on instinct your hand twitches and with the flash of the camera you get a single moment to stare at it. 

It’s so close to being human.

It’s mouth is too big, a blood soaked tongue falling past a row of jagged, pointed teeth. It’s almost like someone stretched out a person's face like it was made of clay. And it’s male. Intricate branching horns stretch out from under the hair crowning its head. 

“The doe’s don’t have antlers.”

Your dad was a hunter, you know your antlers,  you aren’t exactly sure but if it was a deer it would be a thirteen pointer. You should run, you’re about to but then you finally look it in the eye, just as the final remnants of the camera flash flicker out. 

There is something worse than hunger, or thirst, or rage in its eyes, if that was all there was you could scream or cry. But this leaves you frozen in place. 

Recognition. 

Like it knows you. 

And the moment it recognizes you it snarls, an ear-piercing sound that rips through the quiet of the forest, blood spewing from its maw at you, flecks of crimson tint your clothes and hands as your eyes go wide.

It’s a good thing your legs move faster than your brain, you’re already sprinting away from the creature. 

You lose your flashlight almost immediately but you know where you’re going, you couldn’t be more thankful for your decision to go in a straight line. You don’t stop moving, running blindly back the way you came, never once daring to look behind you. 

You know it’s there, you can hear it, and you can feel it. 

Its breath is hot on your heels, you can hear the branches splintering directly behind you. Everything is a blur, stray branches sting your exposed skin but you don’t stop, you can’t, your muscles ache as you push onward, keeping your hands out in front of you to guide you through the darkness until you finally see the road up ahead. 

You’re nearly there, almost feeling relief, almost. 

An icy hand wraps around your ankle, you’re yanked backwards before you can process what’s going on, your back dragging across the forest floor and in an instant you’re beneath it. 

This is it. 

You wanted a monster, you got one. And now you’re going to die for it. It snarls as its maw falls open, you’re face to face with a row of shimmering, gore smeared teeth. This is it. 

He smells like cinnamon. 

It tilts its head ninety degrees, its jaw closing in on your throat as you close your eyes, tears now flow freely down your face and finally you can’t contain your terror anymore. 

You scream. 

A trembling shriek falling from your lips and much to your confusion a killing blow never comes. After one more shuddering breath you open your eyes only to find you’re just staring up at the trees. You sit up, still out of breath. 

He’s a few feet away now. 

Thrashing around frantically as he stumbles backwards. As if your scream had upset him. He bellows, his twisted hands clutching his skull like he’s angry with himself. You cover your ears instinctively when it snarls in pain.

He can’t help it. 

You’re scrambling to your feet once more, giving him one final glance, you look into each other's eyes.

“Run.” 

It speaks. 

You break into a sprint once more, not daring to stop until your feet touch pavement. You don’t get the sense that you’re being followed anymore but you’re still in shambles. The adrenaline is slowly starting to fizzle out and you’re painfully aware of the wound you sustained during that encounter. Your ankle is torn up, two deep gashes from where it grabbed you are bleeding an alarming amount. You stumble, the sight of it making you nauseous. 

You get a moment's respite and you manage to compose yourself enough to retrieve your phone from your pocket. Walking backwards, keeping your eyes on the forest as you slowly continue to back away. In your desperation your blood stained fingertips frantically swipe across your phone screen, you don’t realize until it’s too late that you’re calling the only person who isn’t going to answer. 

Yet when you bring the phone to your ear you hear a click. 

“Joel?” You can’t fucking believe it. He actually picked up. 

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” He can definitely hear the panic in your voice. 

You just break down.

“I’m by the road, on the way from Maria’s to my camper, I- I need you to come get me, please, it’s- it’s following me, but I think I lost it please, Joel.” You’re in hysterics as you catch a glimpse of one of the few streetlights down the road. You hear the sound of keys and you swear you hear Maria saying something in the background but you’re too frenzied to focus on that. 

“Who’s following you? Stay right there m’on my way.” You can hear the truck starting in the background as you keep running, not daring to stop even though it doesn’t feel like you’re being pursued anymore. 

“The monster… in the woods… it’s not a bear Joel.” You’re out of breath when you finally stop, standing in the middle of the road underneath the street lamp, spinning around to try and somehow keep an eye on all of the darkness around you. 

“Stay where you are, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay? Stay right where you are.” You’re about to beg him to hurry when the line goes dead. 

You must look like a mad woman. Standing in the middle of the street, covered in blood, and spinning in circles to try and keep an eye on every single direction as you listen for any signs of movement. 

Your heartbeat never slows, you can hear it pounding in the crushing silence that surrounds you. 

It only takes a few minutes before you see headlights approaching in the distance. You don’t even let the truck come to a full stop as you open the door and jump in, closing it behind you as you scramble towards Joel as if he could protect you from the goliath you saw in the darkness. 

“Drive! Now Joel, go!” You yell as he accelerates just to the point of following the speed limit as he heads towards your camper. 

“Bunny, please, calm down.” He wraps the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel around you but you shove him off, sliding back to the other side of the truck. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Joel, not after what I just went through, I saw it, a real monster grabbed me.” You’re stumbling over your words, trying to get them out as quickly as possible.

“Slow down, just tell me what happened.”

“I told you on the phone, I just found a fucking monster, Joel, that’s what happened.”

He’s gone silent now.

He probably thinks you’re crazy. 

That’s fine. You know you aren’t, you saw it, watched it feed. There’s deer blood on your boots. 

“You didn’t see a monster.” When you look he’s shaking worse than you are. You don’t dare turn your head further but you watch in your peripheral as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. 

He’s lying. 

Why would he lie? 

“I did, I took a-.” You reach into your bag and your stomach fills with dread as you realize you dropped the camera. 

“You didn’t. You’ve been spending too much time alone, and you shouldn’t be going out in the woods by yourself to begin with.” 

“And who’s fault is it that I’ve been alone?” You snap.

He doesn’t have a response to that. And you don’t have anything else to say, not like he’d believe you if you did. You should probably break up with him, for several reasons. 

Except you can’t. 

If you do, how will you stop people from being needlessly murdered? He may not be the monster, but he knows something, and you need to find out what it is. 

So you’ll ‘forgive’ him. Again. Because you need to get to the bottom of this.

And maybe, despite it all, you’re still terribly attached to him. He keeps disappearing, without warning and with halfhearted excuses as to why and all you can think about right now is how badly you missed him, and how badly you need him.  

“Does Tommy have Ellie tonight?” You mumble, trying not to sound too irritated. 

“I was stopping in to see her before leaving her with Maria for the night when you called.”

“Why?”

“I was gonna come over here and apologize.” He sounds just as sincere as he did last time but you still scoff.

“What’s the excuse this time?” When you turn to scowl at him he looks guilty.

“I was out of town on a work trip.”

“And you couldn’t answer your phone.”

“I forgot my charger at home.”

It’s a preconceived lie. You’re certain of it based on how quick he replies, and it’s not even a good one. He could have borrowed a coworker's phone or bought a new charger; it wouldn't have been difficult. But he doesn’t want you to know where he really was. 

Every bit of this confuses you. 

You saw something in the woods, but it wasn’t Joel? Joel was with Ellie and then he was with you, he couldn’t have been slaughtering lost hikers. It doesn’t make sense. One thing is for certain though, and it’s that you can’t break up with Joel until you know what's going on or more people are going to be killed by that thing you saw in the woods. You aren’t really sure what to call it, but you know that you found the thing that’s been killing. 

And he knows something about it. 

He had no reason to get as rattled as he did if he didn't know something about what you saw. So you can’t break up with him, not until you figure this all out. Until then you just have to play the part of a clueless, loving girlfriend. Which shouldn’t be too hard considering the fact that for some reason there is still a sick and twisted attraction to him despite everything you know, settling in your stomach. You bite your tongue, going the rest of the short drive in silence. When he finally pulls up to the camper the engine goes quiet as he turns the key. You had no intention of inviting him in but you won’t stop him if he follows. 

You slam the truck door shut, stomping up to the door, his footsteps following close behind. 

“Let’s talk about this.” He reaches for your arm as you’re unlocking the door but you just shove him off. You leave it open, kicking your shoes off as you slip out of your jacket as you flip on the lights. 

“I don’t want to talk.” He shuts the door behind him, you note that he locks it behind him. 

How presumptuous. 

Correct, but presumptuous. 

“You’re clearly upset, bunny.” He kneels down, untying his own boots before kicking them off. You glare down at him until he stands, trying to pull you into his arms but you just shove him away again. His eyes go wide as he takes you in.

Based on his reaction you really must be quite a sight. 

“Jesus, you’re a mess.” He looks genuinely concerned but you brush it off. 

“Thanks.” You scoff but when you look down you realize you’ve been leaving a trail of blood in your wake. 

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You should send him away. Tend to yourself and go to bed, but instead you just point to the cabinet containing the kit, sitting on the table as he retrieves it, tossing it down beside you. He doesn’t ask what happened, grimacing as he lifts your leg to examine your ankle.

He doesn’t need to ask, he knows what happened. 

He tends to your wounds in silence. You wince as he wipes the lacerations on your ankle, they look bad enough that you consider just going to the hospital but he doesn’t seem too worried. They’re just shallow enough that you don’t think you’ll need stitches. 

You don’t watch as he sprays it with antiseptic, quickly wrapping it in a layer of gauze and then bandages. 

When he’s finished you’re ready to get angry with him all over again but the moment you open your mouth to yell at him he grabs you by the chin, taking a clean piece of gauze and gently dabbing the thin cuts that litter your face. 

You stare up at the ceiling light, refusing to meet his gaze. 

He tends to every one of them, taking extra care as he smears ointment on each one. When he’s finished he takes anything bloodied and gathers it in his hand, standing to toss them into the bin under the sink. You don’t turn, but out of the corner of your eye you see him bring his hand to his mouth. 

Your blood.

He tasted your blood. 

You can feel the bile rising in your throat but you just swallow it back down. 

“Now we can talk.” He makes his way back over to you but you just shake your head. 

“I already told you, I don’t wanna talk.” 

“Bunny-” He takes another step towards you. 

“Shut up.” 

“Don’t be like that.” There’s real remorse in his eyes, you might even feel bad if you didn’t know that he was lying to you. 

“Shut. Up.” You push him so he stumbles back onto the bed. “I’m not crazy.” He props himself up on his elbows to look at you as you say it.

“I know.” He sounds almost apologetic. 

“Take your clothes off.” You mumble, already tossing your shirt to the side. 

“Are you sure?” 

You’re sure that he knows what’s out there in the woods and he isn’t telling you. 

“I am.” You kick your jeans off to emphasize your point. You know he won’t deny you this. Whatever sick, unexplainable force pulls you into his arms affects him as it does you. You don’t just want him, you need him. 

You hadn’t realized it until he’d disappeared again, but now you couldn’t be more aware. It’s as if your entire life you’ve felt wrong. You’ve been in a state of discomfort for as long as you can remember, like a vital part of you was missing. But you got used to it, and you learned to live with the odd sensation of never feeling like you're in the right place, nowhere ever felt like home. 

Joel feels like home, in a sort of twisted way. 

From the moment you first saw him everything cleared up. It was like you had finally found your center of balance, and when he disappeared he took all of that with him. 

This is more than just attraction. 

With that he tugs his flannel off, you grab the bottom of his shirt, impatiently pulling it up over his head, not wanting to look him in the eyes, you stare at his shoulders as you climb up onto the bed, straddling his lap. 

“I really think we should talk-” He starts again so you reach behind yourself, unclasping your bra, glaring at him as you let it drop.

“Then talk.” 

He looks at you like you’re something to eat. 

“That’s not fair.” He finally manages to pull his gaze off of your chest, looking you in the eyes, his pupils swallowing his irises leaving you to stare into the darkness of his eyes.  

“There’s nothing to talk about, you went away for work and you forgot your phone charger.” You reach between the two of you to remove his belt, tossing it behind him on the bed before trying to unzip his jeans. “It was just an unfortunate series of circumstances.” You grumble before lifting yourself off his lap so he can shove his jeans off.

He’s glaring at you now. Good. He should know that you’re challenging him. Everything from this point on is a game, you just have to catch him in a lie. You grind down against the straining fabric of his boxers, hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as you rub yourself against his clothed erection, drawing a hiss from between his teeth. Before you know it his hands are gripping the hem of your panties. 

“Go on Joel, rip them off. I know you’re plenty capable.” You say it like the accusation it is. He’s strong enough to do a lot of things, you aren’t sure if tearing a person in half is one of those things but you’re determined to find out. He knows what you’re implying but he does it anyway, grabbing the fabric on either side of your hips and easily tearing them to shreds. 

“You don’t know what you do to me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours. 

You do. 

He does the same to you. A carnal desire, your most basic human instincts are reduced to nothing the moment your skin is against his. 

You don’t waste any time, slipping your hand under the waistband of his underwear, watching his cock spring free, slapping against his stomach. You unceremoniously spit in your hand before taking him in your fist, watching his jaw go slack as you rake your nails against the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. You keep your eyes trained on his face as you notch him at your entrance, tilting your head to the side as you hesitate. 

The veins in his neck jut out as you slide the head of his cock over your clit, hissing softly as you do. 

He’s purposefully showing restraint. 

He clutches the sheets, his knuckles go pale and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t touching you because he’s worried he’ll hurt you. 

“Fuck me, Joel.” You lean forward, biting his stupidly plush bottom lip. He doesn’t move his hands from where they are and you can’t help but scowl against his mouth.   

He’s holding back. 

He knows exactly what you’re doing and he’s trying to prove you wrong. How long has he been holding back?

In one sharp motion you slide down on his cock, forcing an obscene moan out of yourself, but it isn’t loud enough to cover the ripping sound. Your eyes wander downward, his are rolled back but all you can focus on now is your torn bed sheets in his clenched fist. 

Holy hell.

“Fuck. Me.” You rasp out, lifting your hips again before dropping them back down. His head falls forward this time, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, muffling his growl.

You know that growl. 

“Fuck me or leave, Joel.” You take his face in your hand, roughly pulling him back so he’s eye to eye with you.

You heard that growl in the woods less than an hour ago. 

“You’re playing with fire, bunny.” He glares at you but you just stare right back. 

“I won’t say it again.” You give him one last warning and he finally brings his hands to your hips, with a grunt he lifts you up, slamming you back down on his cock, you can feel him brushing against your cervix as you cry out. 

At his age he shouldn’t be able to do that. 

He does it again, moving you like a ragdoll up and down on his length, a lewd squelching fills the air, egging him on. He tilts his head down, his teeth scrape against your breast, and you can hear a roar building in his throat. He fucks you like a fleshlight, moving you effortlessly up and down on his cock, your chest bouncing with each thrust.

He shouldn’t be able to do any of this.

Neither one of you speaks, you can feel the camper swaying ever so slightly as he slams into you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as he pulls you down onto him. 

He makes it look effortless. 

Another growl rips through the air and you know neither one of you is gonna last long if he keeps going at this pace. He hammers into your sensitive spots with every thrust, your clit rubbing against the dark curls along his pelvis.

He’s merciless with the force at which he moves you, he’s started nipping at your shoulder and you know he’s close as they get harder and harder. You finally feel him break the skin and just like that he’s lifting you off of him, his mouth clamped down on your flesh, you feel his cum between your legs as he finishes on your folds. The sensation of him slipping out of you sends you over the edge right along with him, your stomach tightening as you groan, letting your head fall forward onto him.

You feel better already. 

Not good, just better. 

He manages to keep you both upright for a few more moments before collapsing down on the mattress with you in his arms. 

And then it’s just quiet.

Until the mattress squeaks as you get up. Wiping yourself off with a towel and turning the lights off before returning to bed without a word. He’s the one who finally breaks the silence.  

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

 “You can stay.” You mumble, rolling over to face away from him. 

It’s better if you know where he is. 

That’s what you tell yourself. 

It’s easier to swallow that excuse than the truth, that you can’t shake the terror from your encounter with the creature and now amount of fucking is going to change that. You don’t want to be alone, no matter how angry you are. He doesn’t seem to take the hint though, snaking his arm under yours and pulling you to his chest. 

You start to push him away but you feel a wave of calm wash over you when he does so you just settle back against him. You close your eyes, praying sleep might come but all you see in the darkness is that open maw closing in on you. 

You know that growl. 

It isn’t Joel. It can’t be Joel, he was with Ellie and then he was with you. 

It wasn’t Joel.

You’re more than used to waking up in the woods at this point. Monsters and men torment you in your dreams whenever they get the chance to. 

But tonight is different. 

You don’t feel the cold, wetness of the forest floor on your back before you open your eyes. Instead you only feel steel, you make an attempt to sit up on instinct but you can’t. In a panic you open your eyes to find yourself cuffed to the cadaver carrier from Marias basement. 

This can’t be happening. 

This is the kind of dream you get after your first body. 

You’ve had this dream, years ago when you’d just started studying mortuary sciences. Although now it feels worse, more ominous than it had previously. 

That probably has to do with the fact that you can’t move. 

In response to that petrifying thought you begin to uselessly tug on the cuffs, your ankles and wrists attached to the cold unforgiving steel of the table you’ve sewn countless bodies back together on. 

You don’t strap cadavers down, there’s no need to. 

The door swings open and you’re thankfully able to sit up enough to watch Maria and Joel walk in, solemn looks on both of their faces. 

You open your mouth to call for help but something stops you.

No.

No, no, no.

Your jaw is wired shut. 

The sudden realization makes you gag as you shake the table with the force of your panic. 

Maria is always thorough, your mouth is full of cotton.

They act as if you’re as lifeless as any other corpse as they stand beside you, despite your muffled screaming, tears immediately flowing from your eyes as you feel your throat constrict around the cotton.  

“What happened to her?” He sounds so far gone even though he only stands a few feet away. 

“You know what happened to her.” Marias sorrow turns to a look of resentment as she turns to Joel. 

“Bear attack.” He says it more to himself than to her. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You never do.” Her voice is full of a hatred you haven’t ever heard in reality. 

She looks at you with a pity you’ve had on your own face before. It’s the same look you give every corpse on a table.  

You follow Maria’s gaze down at your body and find your chest sliced open, the inside dry. 

And then you wake up. 

Of course Joel is there when you sit up in bed with a strangled cry, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face. 

“Bunny?” His groggy, sleep ridden voice resembles a growl, sending you backwards away from him, your back hitting where the mattress meets the camper wall. He’s already up, he moves towards you but the moment you flinch away from he stops. “Are you okay? What hap-“

“Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Thankfully he doesn’t move towards you, he holds his hands up ever so slowly. He’s acting like you’re a cornered animal. 

You can’t seem to find your voice. Every single logical and rational part of your body and mind tell you to get as far away from him as possible. To fight tooth and nail to get past him, to run away and never look back. You’d never get away with that though, he’s too deeply rooted in you already. He’s made for you. Sculpted by the gods to be everything you’ve ever wanted all in one neat little salt and pepper package, served up to you on a silver platter.  

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He inches forward a bit but the way you pull your legs up against your chest, trying to make yourself smaller makes him move back. “It’s okay, it’s just me.” 

Yeah Joel, that's the problem.  

a/n : i have such mixed feeling abt this chap but whatever i really like it so ?? idk

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[here4kpopfics]

Put It Out | JJK

just a quick little something to put our minds at ease about that stupid candle. @minttangerines asked and I...I don't know, honestly. Here we are. I'm tired. Enjoy. Thank you beautiful @mikrokcsmos for the edits and being wonderful. 💜💜 also gonna tag @pamzn @minisugakoobies and @sugakookitty bc i can. hi i love you all.

Masterlist | AskBox | Taglist | Coffee? | Patreon

jjk x reader | fluff/stupiness | 1863 words | pg15 but really 13 but really who cares | Jungkook better put that shit out before his house goes down in flames.

“I’m gonna go live, jagi.”

“It’s two in the morning, Koo. Let army sleep.” You turn over in bed to see your boyfriend throwing a shirt on and fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror before turning back to you with a pout. 

The dumb pout that wins every argument. You hate it and love it. 

“I’m sure some of them are awake! I’ll make it a chill live. Put the galaxy light on and get a candle. They can fall asleep to it.” 

“Like any of them can fall asleep to you singing to them.” You mumble under your breath, getting up and grabbing your phone and a charger. “Let me grab something to drink and a snack first.”

“You’re gonna watch?” Dumb bunny smiles with the cute crinkles around his eyes. You want to kiss him stupid but you’re too tired. 

“Someone has to make sure you don’t do anything dumb.” You quip, quickly pecking his lips with yours as you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing supplies. You hear his feet following you and smile. 

“I don’t do anything stupid!”

“Unholy. Body roll. While not stupid, I'm pretty sure a good handful of people had heart attacks that night.” You grab your laptop off the dining room table, “Boxing. Moaning and groaning while on the floor and out of sight. Stupid only because you were out of sight and that led people to have ideas about things that only I get to experience.” 

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes you were. But it’s fine. I accept that you’re a flirty hoe, it’s who you are baby. Embrace it. Have fun. I’ll be in the room waiting for you to come back to bed.” You take a quick inventory of the room, making sure he moved anything of yours out of view when you spot the candle.

“Why the candle, though?” 

“To lighten it up in here…and it smells nice.”

“Baby, you have a ring light.” 

“Ring light doesn’t smell nice.”

You groan in defeat, shaking your head and walking past him, back to the room, “blow it out when you’re done!”

“Kay!” 

You settle back in bed, charger plugged in and a pillow acting as a laptop stand while you snack on whatever it was you blindly grabbed. You hear the music starting before you get the notification about him going live on Weverse pops up. You pop in your AirPods and get ready for a long night. 

You scroll through tumblr and Twitter as he finally appears on the screen, quietly giggling at everyone freaking out over specific songs and him and his hair. You can’t blame them, though. His hair still makes you giddy when you see it. 

A few songs in and you realize quickly what playlist he’s going through. The playlist you created together, tossing random shit that either reminded you of one another, was just a fucking vibe, or was just something you personally wanted him to sing because you knew he could. 

One of the very few perks of dating him that you participate in. 

But he’s doing that thing, that thing you hate. You do it, too. You’re not afraid to admit it. But it’s worse when he does it because he’s singing at the same time. 

He gets a little more than half way through a song, either reaching the second chorus or even the bridge, and then just skips to the next song. But not just the song right after, no. The man skips and skips and skips and skips, letting you hear a second of each song and getting excited before he skips to another one, repeating the process. It drives you mad.

Thankfully, it drives army mad as well, so at least you have that to validate your annoyance. 

You accidentally laugh out loud when he starts singing along with Leave The Door Open and you pray no one had heard it, watching the chat to see if anyone says anything. Thankfully, no one heard a thing and you relax, but only a little because he’s got the damn candle in his hand and he’s moving the melted wax around and you have to bite your tongue to suppress yourself from laughing again when the flame goes out. 

“Serves you right.” You mutter. 

He continues on with this “chill night” of blasting his music, getting more drinks, watching Hoseok’s new music video twice without saying a word, accidentally swearing while singing a Charlie Puth song, and unabashedly flirting with army again. 

You watch his mood start to dip when he gets to some slower songs, one that you put in when you were feeling insecure about your relationship with him. 

He looks exhausted as he talks about the current situation he’d been forced into with ‘fans’ not respecting his privacy and treating him like he’s not human and your heart cracks for him. Part of you wants to run out there, turn off the live and hug him. The other part knows he needs to get it off his chest. Even if he’s tipsy, it’s something that needs to be discussed. You can comfort him after. 

But of course, never one to let the mood be sad for too long, he switches to a fun more upbeat song and says he needs to go to the bathroom.

A few seconds later, he’s opening the door to your bedroom and leaning over your little set up and grabbing your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. 

“I love you” the words fall off his lips quietly and you repeat them back without hesitation, smiling when he gives a shorter kiss before bolting to the bathroom. He comes back out, stealing some of your snacks and snickering at your reaction, throwing up a finger heart as he leaves the room. 

He seems to have woken up a little bit, but not by much from the way he keeps laying back on the couch for a minute or two at a time. 

“I swear if you fall asleep on camera…” you whisper at the screen, glaring at the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

“I'm not going to sleep.” He groans, trying to wake himself up, “if I’m gonna sleep, I’ll tell you and get off but I don’t feel like sleeping right now, okay?” He’s whining which you know perfectly well he’s about to fall asleep. He turns into a toddler, confused and upset that his body would betray him like this. 

Not even five minutes later he’s picking up the candle again, placing it in front of the camera for aesthetic reasons, you’re sure. 

“I’m gonna rest a bit. Just a few minutes. Promise.” He disappears out of sight and you’re sure he’s laying down. 

Aw, fuck. He’s gonna sleep on camera.

You wait five minutes and then you hear it, clear as day in your AirPods, the sound of his snoring. It’s so light, but so very obvious your boyfriend has fallen asleep on camera and millions of people are now watching him. Although, not really watching him, because he’s off camera. But it’s close enough! 

You quickly send a text to Taehyung, praying he’s still awake. 

Y/n: Koo fell asleep on camera. What do I do?

Tae: you have to end it or I’ll see if any of the team can…did he really fall asleep? 

Y/n: yes! And he has a stupid candle burning still right next to his phone. I can’t go out there until it’s over. 

Tae: oh my god he’s going to get so much shit for this from us, that’s amazing. 

Tae: I’ll call and see if anyone can turn it off, but I doubt it since it’s four in the morning. Try to do it in the meantime. 

You groan, tossing your phone to the side and looking back at your laptop. He’s still asleep. And that candle is still burning. The chat is yelling about it, tumblr and Twitter are both freaking out about it. 

Fuck. You’re gonna have to do something about it. You take out the AirPods, getting back out of bed and throwing one of his sweaters on as well as his sweatpants. 

You quietly and slowly open the door, thankful the door can’t be seen from that angle on the stream, and slowly drop to the floor. 

Time to mission impossible this shit. 

Using the sweater and pants, you’re able to softly glide on the floor that you’re very thankful was cleaned earlier today and Bam wasn’t here to ruin. You make your way behind the couch until you’re on the opposite side of his phone. He’s just off to the side, very clearly out of sight and you sneak up on the floor next to the couch, keeping yourself hidden. 

“Baby?” You whisper it as quietly as you possibly can manage, but he doesn’t respond except with a soft whimper of a snore. He’s too adorable.

The sound of the tv going into sleep mode makes you jump. 

You can’t wake him up without either making noise or him saying your name when he wakes. So you sneak away from him again, creeping directly behind his phone and reaching around, trying to keep your finger out of sight as you tap where you're sure the end live button is located. You stay sitting behind the camera, grabbing your phone and checking if the live is off, and thank god it is. 

You stand up, blowing out the candle and taking it to the kitchen to set it somewhere safe. You turn off the galaxy light and make your way back to your tired and dumb boyfriend, crawling on top of him. 

“Jungkoooookie. Baby. Wake up, dumb dumb.” 

He groans in annoyance, and as suspected, the first thing he says is your name.  

“Y/n? I’m live right now. You can’t be out here.” He whines, but his hands find their home on your thighs, squeezing softly. 

“I ended it, you goober. You fell asleep on camera. Snoring and everything.” You grin, cradling his face in one hand and kissing his nose. “Come on, let’s get you to a real bed.” 

“Here’s good.” He says, pulling you down to him and flipping you both on your sides. 

“Nuh-uh. To the bed, mister. You’ll thank me in the morning.” You reach out, patting his butt and laughing when he bucks his hips once towards yours. “Not that either. Let’s go.” 

You climb out of his grip, pulling him off the couch and grabbing his phone, leading him to the bedroom. You quickly remove your stuff and he quite literally flips over onto the bed while you plug his phone into your charger. 

You have to maneuver him to get under the blankets, doing so yourself when he’s finally in bed, getting comfortable when a giant tattooed arm reaches around your waist, dragging you to have your back against his chest.

“Goodnight, jagi.” A small kiss on your temple. 

“Goodnight, dumb boy.” Your free hand wraps around the hand on your waist and you both fall asleep. 

He’s gonna be in so much trouble when he wakes up.

Booga Booga I'm tired

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and being in a corn maze

how well i think svt will be able to navigate through a corn maze

notes: tbh i think i'm wonwoo. 'maize maze' is actually hilarious okay.

masterlist

seungcheol:

makes it a competition to see who can come out of the maze the fastest. intentionally booked it during the day, bc there was no way he was going to risk going in the evening and scaring himself to death while surrounded by stalks of corn. zooms through the maze like he's the flash or something, only encounters one member (hansol, who looks extremely lost) before he manages to escape in just under 2 hours. makes sure to greet every member that comes out after him to tell them that he won

jeonghan:

goes in, like, 5 times. he keeps pretending to go in before just walking back out again, and poor junhui has to be the one to eventually walk all the way back to the maze entrance, grab jeonghan's hand, and physically drag him through the first few turns of the maze, bc seungcheol insisted that everyone had to take part in this competition. is terrible at escaping mazes, tells junhui they should just give up. starts singing really obnoxiously about how they're all gonna die here and how this really was a bad idea and he should have just stayed at home. even so, he n junhui end up being the 4th and 5th people to leave the maze, only bc junhui was so excited to escape (and everyone else was so terrible) 

joshua:

probably one of the most chill about the maze. was saddled with seokmin bc the younger man was way too scared to enter the maze by himself. is the one that tells all of them as they're entering the maze that if they just stick together they could make it out of the maze super quickly and all at once… no one listens to him. holds seokmin's hand the entire time; reassures him every few minutes that they will manage to escape the maze eventually n they won't be stuck here forever. strolls super casually through the maze like they're taking a walk in the countryside, which they basically are. that is, until his hay fever starts to be activated (by corn, of all things) and so he has to start hurrying along to get out of the sneeze maze

junhui:

was almost going to beat seungcheol before jeonghan sent them all a photo of him still standing at the entrance. was told to go back to the beginning and retrieve their second eldest member bc apparently escaping a corn maze was an activity in which participation was mandatory. nevertheless, he is Unfazed!! practically skips through the maze, despite jeonghan being the personification of doom and gloom behind him, pats his hyung on the back n tells him not to worry n that they'll get out soon :D

hoshi:

competitive for all of half an hour before his vision starts blurring and all he can see are giant green walls. gets lost, tells himself that he'll be great at living the rest of his life as a Nature Man in the maze. sits in the dead end for a good hour or so. somehow manages to make friends with five sparrows in the maze. is considering whether he should begin his tiger transformation in the middle of the corn maze when he's found by one of the workers who apparently was watching him talk to the sparrows for an hour straight. ends up being escorted out of the maze by them

wonwoo:

has to go really slowly bc mingyu refuses to let go of his shirt. could have definitely beaten seungcheol if he wanted to, bc he's a nerd and actually studied how to escape corn mazes during the drive there. keeps saying "maize maze" over and over again to himself. doesn't get lost, but does run into many dead ends bc mingyu keeps tugging him into a path that he thinks is safer. almost walks straight into the hedge at one point. demands that mingyu let him climb onto his back, is almost able to see over the top of the maze with their combined height. manages to drag mingyu out of the maze eventually

woozi:

walks really leisurely. he knows he's not going to win the competition that seungcheol set up, so he takes his time. he might not enjoy socialising and going out of his studio, but being in a blissfully quiet maze (punctuated occasionally by the members' screams) helps relax him and clear his mind. runs into dead ends half of the time, but that's okay bc it only prolongs his walks. composes the hook of five different songs in his head as he's staring up at the blue sky. gets told off by seungcheol at the end for not having any sort of competitive spirit at all. had a good time, but probably wouldn't go again bc the soles of his feet hurt and his cheeks were a little bit irritated from being brushed against the leaves of corn constantly

minghao:

is somehow super speedy at finishing the maze. ditches mingyu with wonwoo as soon as he sees the elder, then has disappeared round the corner before wonwoo can even start voicing a complaint. is grinning the entire time, practically skipping through the maze. almost runs over a mother with her daughter, stops for a few minutes to say hello and has a really sweet exchange with the girl who won't stop telling him how handsome he looks. gets really shy and blushes afterwards, spends a whole five minutes collecting himself before he's back on track towards his goal again. is the 3rd to leave the maze

mingyu:

coward. tries to hold onto minghao the entire time, is then dumped onto wonwoo. subsequently spends the entire maze gripping onto wonwoo's shirt tightly so that he can't saddle him with another member like that traitor minghao did. shakes so badly the whole time, even though it's daylight and actually kind of hot in the maze. insists that he has The Best intuition and keeps on leading him and wonwoo down dead ends. screams every time the leaves brush against his arm. practically crawls out of the exit of the maze, still clinging to wonwoo's shirt, and vows to never ever go into one of those things again

dokyeom:

isn't really scared like mingyu, but is very much worried that he'll get lost and never ever be able to come out. holds joshua's hand the entire time. wanted to backhug the guy and practically hang off him the entire time, but shua said no bc it would be difficult to walk. has an almost panic attack four times. is worriedly rambling to himself about how they'll survive if they get stuck during nightfall when it's cold. thankfully managed to somehow have a packet of tissues in his pocket, constantly gives them to his hyung whose nose is suddenly running like crazy

seungkwan:

super competitive, is sure that he'll be the one to leave the maze the fastest. was originally in a three with the other maknaes, before hansol mysteriously disappeared into thin air. chan pushed him into the hedge at one point, and when he emerged, sputtering leaves and outrage, he'd found the youngest had bolted and left him alone. stormed through the maze, simmering with anger the entire time. every dead end he encountered made him angrier, and he probably ended up encountering all the dead ends possible. was one of the last to exit the maze, and was so exhausted that he let himself rest for a few hours during the drive back before promptly recharging in the restaurant and tackling chan to the floor. they ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant. 

vernon:

was originally in a group of three with seungkwan and chan, managed to somehow lose both of them and end up wandering through the maze by himself. tries to yell for them, hears nothing back. his phone is dead too, so he gives up and lets himself walk round in circles in the maze. encounters one (1) other person and that's seungcheol, who barely glances at him before zooming off again. has to be escorted out of the maze by a worker like hoshi, but it takes him way longer to be found bc he keeps on moving around so it looks like he knows where he's going. even though he really, really doesn't.

chan:

second to exit the maze. originally had a plan for all three of the maknaes to stick together and leave as quickly as possible, but then everything kinda fell apart when hansol disappeared so he decided to make seungkwan disappear too by pushing him into the corn and running away. did the whole 'keep your hand on the right wall' thing, was amazed to find out it worked when he left the maze to find only seungcheol standing there. begged the eldest to buy him ice cream while they waited for the others to come out. ended up falling asleep on a nearby bench with the half-eaten ice cream, was almost forgotten at the maze by seungcheol when they were leaving

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[maximillien]

Dates with our three men.

Because I've seen @elychee 's tags a lot and honestly I'm thirsty too.

Here are my headcannons:

Cale Henituse:

- I'd really see him as an introverted date kinda guy

- like maybe cuddling and reading together (reading TOGETHER, like sharing a book, ugh imagine having a signal for him so he can turn the page, like tapping his arm, whilst you're both snuggled up in some big comfy throw)

- otherwise it would be at a festival or a comfy restaurant.

- he'd definitely have some type of magic on him to alter his appearance (and on you too if you've done stuff like him in public and are known for it)

- in either dates there'll be eating so snacks or food are a must

- he's rich asf so if you're at the festival or restaurant, he's paying (except if you have dirty money (*somehow steals a golden plate from alberu to pay for bae's meal*)

- a listener. Loves listening to you talk. He might look disinterested to others, but you can tell he is indeed listening.

- if you're out for a date and he sees you staring at something will offer to get it for u

- if you're at home you'll both fall asleep on each other, book long forgotten, as the kids surround you and whisper between themselves before snuggling in with you both.

Choi Han

- omg I love him

- come here boy

- anywho I definitely DEFINITELY hc a festival date.

- especially if it's similar to a Korean night market, for nostalgia, he's going.

- If there are plushies to win and you want one, you'd best bet you're getting them

- very good at physical games (cmon he's a swordsman)

- will win anything you want at the stands. People are staring and trying to hide their stands, whilst his clueless ass is walking around asking where you want to go next.

- has eyes only for you, my god. He's either getting nostalgic staring at the stands or he's staring at you (he's doing the latter like 90% of the time)

- hold his hand and he'll blush but he won't pull away, he'll just become tomato Han

- again, like a Cale a listener, except he'll perk up whenever you go quiet since you think he isn't listening, and ask for you to continue, or he'll squeeze your hand (and give you this excited puppy look. He has eyes only for you)

- very soft

- eating skewers together whilst walking around and enjoying the festival

- if there's fireworks after you bet your ass he's gonna try and find a nice place to see them from

- (very cheesy) kiss him whilst the fireworks go off

- you'll upgrade from tomato Han to tomato soup Han (since he'll have melted on the floor)

-overall an outdoor soft festival date

Alberu Crossman

- here he is

- ugh sexyman. Get over here. Get in my bed.

- honestly he's very busy so dates are few and far between

- but it'd probably be a calm picnic somewhere quiet, where people don't usually go

- you'd say that the both of you should cook together

- he's so up for it. He's waited his whole life to flaunt his cooking skil-

- an attempt at cooking was made. Some hc him to be good at cooking, but honestly I don't think he would totally get it.

- he's not as bad as Choi Han at cooking, but he's not on Cale's level.

- so yeah, you're mainly making the sandwhiches, but he is participating, wether it be trying to get stuff for you or making filling (per your instructions)

- (ugh imagine making cookies and he wipes some flour or batter on your nose and smiles so brightly whilst chuckling- no. I need to stop. I need to stop)

- putting all your stuff in a basket and setting off (please, him in a loose poet's shirt, you know THAT 'pathetic artist' shirt)

- I think you guys would talk about everything and anything (you're both bashing Cale bc of his chaos and the resulting workload.)

- it's a really relaxing and peaceful date

- if you'll allow him, he'll put his head on your lap (xtra bonus: you play with his hair and he guns appreciatively, completely relaxing into your lap) and he'll gently appreciate the wind and you.

- I think it'd be pretty quiet, but if you're talkative go for it, he'll actively participate in Convo or he'll silently listen to you.

- if you stop taking he'll open one eye and nudge your thigh with his hand to continue

- husband material.

- very domestic and soft

- let's hope Cale doesn't overthrow another kingdom whilst y'all are out

a/n: Ely, this is for u I saw your tags and honestly your mutual thirst for Alberu is completely relatable

[mamirhodessxox]

Too Sweet (Part 1)

Stalker Professor!Cody Rhodes Stalker fem!OC

Desc- Zoe is a 23 year old enrolled into University who is well known across campus fr participating in Ballet & even auditioning for one of the most important roles of the year, but she seems to be quite infatuated with her professor without realizing he is 100x more infatuated and obsessed with her, the two grow a bond and soon realize they would do whatever it takes just to be happily together forever.

Contents- Fluff, Angst, Smut in some chapters, Use of Alcohol & Marijuana, Arguments, Soft/hard Dom x Bimbo like pairing, Mutual Stalking, Murder, Violence, Gore Details, Kidnapping, inspired of off the show ‘You’ & ‘Black Swan’

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @cococodysleevlesshoodie

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

She was all he could ever think about, she was his perfect girl, she could do no wrong, she was always on time for lessons & homework, her essays were phenomenal, she was gorgeous, her dark brown eyes, her brunette hair that laid across her shoulders or flowed against her skin whenever she took a single step. Her voice smooth like honey, her smile as bright as the stars within the night sky, she was a ballet dancer & a perfect one at that. He was obsessed with her.

Zoe Caterina was the full of epitome of perfection to him, everything she did had such grace & class tied into it, she was his A+ girl, and he wouldn’t let anybody get in the way of that. No matter what.

Zoe was just obsessed with him as he was with her, His voice spoke in a delicate yet deep manner anytime he was teaching, his hand gliding over her arm sometimes when he went to her desk to examine her notes or whatever it was when she was enthralled into her homework.

The way he left sweet notes on the corner of her papers involve “I’m proud of you” “Good job sweetheart” “You did so good for me on this assignment.” She knew it wasn’t how he normally treated students, but that meant she was special, he found her special. She didn’t just want him, she needed him.

The way he entertained her flirting & even flirted back with her a little bit made her feel like she was melting slowly into a puddle, She needed him.

6:30 AM October 1st 2023, Connecticut

Zoe laid in her dorm that was shared with her bestfriend Alice who was staring down the T.V as the news repeated words of a murder scene that was being investigated on campus, Zoe huffed as she sat up on her bed “You think they’re gonna call today off?” Alice scoffed and ran her hand down her face before grabbing her coat “Fuck no. CTU Couldn’t give a single shit about this, I’m off to class anyways so that should answer your question.”

Zoe watched as Alice left the dorm leaving her by herself “Shit..” the brunette climbed her way out of bed and decided to wear something warm since fall had arrived & it was beginning to be a tad bit chilly.

Her only schedule for the day was to attend Mr Rhodes’ lesson for the day in Psychology which is what she was majoring in. After that she would then go to her daily ballet lesson she grew up taking per parents request. Zoe was a straight A student & made it clear to everyone that she would graduate and be a successful woman.

Zoe’s boots pattered against the semi damp concrete ground as a light rain came through, she inhaled the refreshing scent of rain & the fall weather all together and felt a wave of relaxation rush through her body before entering the lecture hall & making her way to class. She was always on time before everyone else so she could get the best seat in class for her comfortability, Mr Rhodes looked up from the assignments he was grading and watched as the young lady gently sat her bag down next to her seat as she unpacked everything she would need for today’s notes. He loved her organization.

“Aren’t you all snuggled up today” he called out towards her in a teasing manner as he examined the leggings she wore underneath her plaid skirt, she wore a fluffy brown sweater followed by her scarf & boots clearly showing she was quite cozy & warm, Zoe looked over at him & smiled shortly “Well It seemed chilly out, And I wanted to be as warm as possible.” She added before walking down the short steps to approach his desk “You seem dapper as usual” she stated while examining the suit he wore followed by reading glasses that sat perfectly against his black hair “Yeah well you know me sweetheart, I like to keep things classy.” He let a faint smirk appear on his face before watching her hum in response “Well you look good Mr Rhodes, I always thought the suits looked rather dashing on you.” He chuckled lightly at her compliment before nodding in agreement “Thank you doll, now go take a seat, get comfortable.”

She smiled politely and went back to sit down as other students scattered into the classroom, Zoe liked sitting alone, she liked having personal space & being able to listen thoroughly to what he was teaching without any distractions. However it was slowly becoming difficult for her despite the personal space.

She was currently auditioning for the main role within swan lake for a Ballet show & one of her classmates Nina was also auditioning for the tole, Nina was a competitive girl and this meant she would be making Zoe’s life hell for as long as she possibly could, whether it was in Ballet or for Mr Rhodes attention.

Zoe scrabbled down notes into her notebook as she listened and soaked in every word he spat out. Nina sat 3 rows behind her snickering into one of her friends’ ear “teachers pet.” The group all giggled and whispered causing Mr Rhodes to turn around in their direction and pull of his glasses “Nina is there something you’d like to share?” The girl froze “I- Wel- I was just-“ He raised an eyebrow and looked over at Zoe who was watching everything unfold before crossing his arms “You were just disrupting the lesson? Picking on another student for actually paying attention? I suggest you quiet down a bit before you make yourself seem more ignorant than you already are.”

Zoe smirked to herself before looking back down at her notes as she listened to him embarrass Nina in-front of everyone. After class she put everything away & was the last one to leave the room, Mr Rhodes placed a hand on her lower back & sighed “I’m sorry about that doll, Don’t let her distract you she’s just..bored” the girl smiled up at him & nodded her head in understanding “Y’know I never get distracted. I’m one of your top passing students.” She chirped back proudly as he chuckled and pat her lower back “you know, If you having nothing going on you can join me at Ballet, not actually join, join, but just..observe” she suggested softly while her hands lightly gripped at the ends of her skirt as he stood in silence for a bit & tried thinking, usually after this period he had 2 hours of free time, “I don’t see why not, I’d like to see your talents.” She smiled widely from ear to ear as she quickly started walking and had him follow behind her. As the two walked down the hallway laughing talking about whatever Nina stood in a corner grasping onto a pillar as she stared them down and glared directly at Zoe..

After a solid 20 minutes of walking the pair ended up in the Ballet Studio, Mr Rhodes sat in the observation section while Zoe adjusted her pointe shoes to her liking as she sat in her black leotard with her hair up, he watched as a guy approached her in completely slum like clothes clearly high out of his mind, “yooo, Mae’s been calling you, we’re all planning to sleepover at her place tonight since that whole murder scene shit from this morning is worrying her.” Zoe looked up at the guy causing Mr Rhodes to raise his eyebrow & watch the scene unfold as a wave of jealousy soured through him.

“Shit, I uh- I don’t know if I can Keith, I have to finish an essay by tonight, but tell her I’ll be safe yeah?” Keith..who the fuck names their kid Keith? Mr Rhodes thought before paying more attention “got it, man this shit is crazy you better be careful getting home, you never know who’s out there.” Zoe smiled as she nodded at his words, once he walked off her instructor made her and other girls get up and start stretching before the woman announced who would be the Prima Ballerina for Swan Lake. Nina walked into practice fashionably late & shoved her bag onto the ground while glaring down Zoe, she lined up with everyone and started stretching & noticed Mr Rhodes sitting & watching.

A surge of embarrassment drowned her for her current actions making her focus & act more properly and professional in hopes of impressing him the way Zoe does, but his eyes weren’t focused on Nina. They were focused on Zoe, the way he stared at her made Nina feel jealous & even angry. Something in her snapped, as the girls stood still for the announcement Mr Rhodes became slightly alarmed with the way Nina glared down at Zoe, The ballet instructor cleared her throat as she spoke out to her students “Since Satia is sick she will not be the Prima Ballerina of this Years Swan Lake, as some of you know we just finished auditions for this role but we have decided that our Prima Ballerina will be Zoe. She has shown great determi-“ Nina screamed out in frustration and turned towards Zoe and showed her so hard to the point where her ankle was sprained once she hit the floor “SHE DOESN’T EVEN DESERVE THAT FUCKING ROLE! SHE CAN’T EVE-“ The instructor turned and glared at the red head who was shouting in pure rage and envy “ENOUGH Nina!”

Everyone rushed towards Zoe as she held her ankle the instructor called out for anyone who was with Zoe to please come get her, Mr Rhodes sprinted out of the observation room & quickly came to her saving “I’m with her-“ Zoe stared up at her instructor with a stern look “I’m not giving up this role Mrs Venn, It’s only a swollen ankle I can do i-“ “Alright fine. Just be careful alright?” The instructor sighed as Keith also ran in the room to help the other man pick up Zoe “Nice suit man” Mr Rhodes furrowed his eyebrows & shook his head “Yeah thanks.” He held Zoe close to him bridal style as his free hand grabbed her bag that sat in a corner “let’s get you home yeah?” Nina sat as she was hysterical crying and shoving away her classmates as she watched him carry off Zoe.

The brunette gave him her address & eventually after walking with her in his arms they finally got to her dorm, he crouched lower so she could be able to unlock her door & come inside, He sat her down on the bed she pointed towards and sighed “You alright doll? Hows your ankle?” She sighed shrugging as she sat in her bed “I’m fine Mr Rho-“ “Cody. You can call me Cody outside of class.” Noted. “i’m fine Cody. It’s nothing but a small sprain, I’ll be better by tomorrow.” He smiled at her positivity “I don’t know how you do it sweetheart, keep things positive. I’ll handle Nina in class tomorrow morning.” Zoe smiled and suddenly got a thought “Hey un- I hope I’m not overstepping but I was wondering since you here..Can I get your number incase of an emergency? Y’know since all of this murder scene stuff & Nina going psycho..?” Cody smiled “It would be no problem at all sweetheart.” He dug in the back pocket of his pants and had her type in her phone number & sent her a quick test text. The girl smiled widely.

She needed him.

“I better start heading out beautiful, rest easy alright? If you can’t come to class tomorrow don’t even worry about it. I’ll mark you down as present for your perfect track record.” Zoe smiled at his kindness and nodded her head “Thank you Mr Rh-Cody, I appreciate it.” And with that Cody left her alone in the dorm room, the door shut behind him & she sat there thinking about what all happened today. Her mind surfaced back towards to Cody, His black hair, His voice, His strength proving carrying her was lighter than a feather. The way he spoke to her in a sweet manner ‘Sweetheart’ ‘Doll’, the way his fingers grazed her skin, the way he rushed over to her in a panic, she needed him. Zoe sighed out softly as she ran her fingers down her leotard down towards the depths of her thighs.

She needed him.

Manirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 8🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 8 "Fracas at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival"

Timestamp: 00:20:30

Video Length: 5min.

Gorgug and his parents talk about the Frostyfaire Folk Festival (‣Pt. 1 | Pt. 2)

Brennan: "You see there's a bunch of people that already have little drum circles with fiddles and guitars and people just sort of like"

The gnomes in Gorgug's neighborhood: "Lai-dee-dai, lai-dee-dai, lai-dee-dai, lai-dee-dai"

Zac: "Gorgug's just looking out his window like, guess it's that all day, huh?"

Brennan: "Wilma and Digby are downstairs. They're powering through breakfast. They've got clipboards. There's some people with surveillance. They're like,"

The Thistlesprings: "All right, this is gonna be great! This is such an honor, to be able to host. Gorgug! Morning, bud! How you doing?"

Gorgug: "Hey, I'm doing good."

Zac: "I'm, like... And this is just maybe a question for Brennan, but have we had this festival here before?"

Brennan: "No, your parents go this every year."

Zac: "Yeah."

Brennan: "But hosting it's a huge deal. The festival actually kind of moves all over Solace. They've sometimes gone up to Ashgrove or the Dunefort or other places to try to participate in this, but yeah, Frostyfaire bounces all over the country."

Gorgug: "So Mom and Dad, I feel, you know... I'm here to help with whatever this is, you know? And uh-"

The Thistlesprings: "Absolutely, absolutely. Well, you know, we tried to throw some tarps over the projects that are kinda halfway done. We're getting some blankets. I mean, people are gonna bring their own blankets. We're getting some blankets out on the hillside, facing the stage. The stage is right out the back door, at the bottom of the hill. It's gonna be great. We got all these great- and kind of an interesting, we have... Have you ever heard of emotional music?"

Gorgug: "Emotional? Are you talking about emo music?"

The Thistlesprings: "Yeah!"

Gorgug: "Yeah. It's pretty cool. Actually a type of music I think is cool."

The Thistlesprings: "Oh, well, great! We love it."

(The judgemental glance from Emily is SO FUNNY!!!!! 😂🤣💀)

Emily: *offended* "You're out of the band." 😭✋

Zac: "I mean, it's okay!" 😂🤣💀

The Thistlesprings: "There's a band coming that your... I mean, I know that Fig is not touring right now, but Lola Embers got in touch with us, your old, you know, she represented you by way of representing Fig."

Gorgug: "I was really just kinda hanging on. It felt like I was sailing behind the boat."

The Thistlesprings: "Hey, you're a great drummer! This is our rock star sports team kiddo."

Gorgug: "I'm okay."

The Thistlesprings: "With the straight As!"

Gorgug: "Mostly."

The Thistlesprings: "Well, you know, but that's the thing, you know? Well, hey!"

Brennan: "And you actually hear a knock on the door and you see that your biological parents walk in, Roz and Gorbag. Gorbag is like,"

Gorbag: "Hey, Gorgug!" *Gives a big hug*

Brennan: "Roz says hi to Wilma."

Roz: "Hi, hi! Coming in to say hello!"

Brennan: "And they're sort of excited to be here as well, 'cause you remember Gorbag was a musician."

Gorgug: "Are you guys playing today?"

Gorbag: "Yeah! Well, I'm just jamming. I just like to come. There's a drum circle that's been going for 40 years, since the start of Frostyfaire."

Gorgug: "That's too long."

Gorbag: "What happens is, the festival's only once a year, but every year, the last guy or gal or person who's drumming at the drum circle, they take a small little drum and they keep it going all year long, kinda like the Olympic torch."

Ally: "Finger drumming!" 😂😂

Brennan: "Finger drum." 😂😂

Gorbag: "So the drum circle hasn't stopped in 40 years."

Gorgug: "What would happen if it stopped?"

Gorbag: *cries*

Brennan: "He starts to cry." 😂🤣😭💀✋

Gorgug: "No, hey! Hey, it's okay!" 😭✋

Gorbag: "Music is a part of a tradition. It's something that unites all of us."

Brennan: "You see Digby puts a little arm around his calf, he's so tall. Digby goes,"

Digby: "Yeah, don't even worry about a C. That's, you know..."

Brennan: "You see that Gorbag says,"

Gorbag: "A C? I thought it was..." And he looks at it and says, "Porter give you a C?"

Gorgug: "Yeah."

Gorbag: "He almost fuckin' failed me, man."

Gorgug: "Really?"

Gorbag: "Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Gorgug: "He's been- He doesn't- I don't think we're speaking the same language, to be honest. I don't know."

Brennan: "You see Wilma looks and says,"

Wilma: "Have you tried making him a little cup of tea and sitting down and saying, 'hey, you know, I feel like I'm letting you down and I wanna know how to do a better job so that I can put a smile on that face?'"

Gorgug: "Not exactly that. I've tried maybe something kinda similar. I think I have to go a completely different direction though, honestly."

Wilma: "Baked good."

Gorgug: "It's not so completely... Yeah, I'll try baked goods. I'll try that, I'll try that."

Wilma: "All right."

Brennan: "You see Gorbag says,"

Gorbag: "Well, listen. I know you're Mr. Study right now, you're taking four classes at once, but if you got a second, I think me and Dig, me and Wilma and Dig and Roz might be down to that drum circle. Maybe you grab some bongos or, you know, get something from the kit. Get a little snare. All drums welcome."

Gorgug: "Okay, yeah, I'll give it a shot. I can bring my snare, just head on down."

Gorbag: "Yeah."

Brennan & Zac: *both mimicking snare drums*

Brennan: "Everyone just starts tapping around, and Wilma goes,"

Wilma: "There's music everywhere!"

Zac: "Specifically in that drum circle." 😂🤣

[room-of-lies]

DTIYS RESULTS!

ITS TIME, FOLKS! GET READY GET EXCITED! I for sure want to host something like this again, it's been a total blast seeing how creative everyone's been (as well as seeing ppl draw more lab clothes emiri... ehehe -⩊-)

NOW FOR THE RESULTS! Proceed UNDER THE CUT!

For 3rd place iiiiiits....

@hoshizoraorchestra!! (view entry here!)

AMAZING use of textures and a sick as hell spin on the color palette!! :D Seriously love how intense it is it gives it such a unique vibe while still retaining a lot of the spirit of the original! (as well as all the little alterations to her outfit... big fan there ehe)

Your prize is an uncolored doodle from me of anything you'd like!

For 2nd place iiiiiits....

@zepplinswraith!! (view entry here!)

INSANELY FUN STYLE! such a good balance between sharp stylization and more painterly aspects and rougher textures, so obsessed with how creature-y the wrigglers look too! not to mention how cute maple and shin ai are.. im gonna bite em

Your prize is a colored doodle from me of anything you'd like!

And finally, for 1st place iiiiiits....

@generaterandom!! (view entry here!)

WHERE TO EVEN BEGIN!!! already such a cool twist with the angle change, rly gives a different energy but with the same elements! The wrigglers frame everything so well here, SUCH a cool way to use them for composition!! the ais are drawn so fun and shape-y i love how they look.. insane work on the clothing folds also theyre so intricately done!! so so so good ur style is seriously such a treat to see :3

Your prize is a finished drawing (full shading and highlights) from me of anything you'd like!

The top 3 winners can dm me their request for their prize and I'll get to them as soon as I'm able! Also a note for the prizes is that I'll draw a max of 2 characters and dont mind doing fullbody/waist-up (this goes for all prizes!!)

and of course, please show some love to everyone else who participated too! It was seriously tough choosing winners out of all these entries because everyone did something interesting in their own way :3 so many fun details and easter eggs... its all so impressive <3

[laurfilijames]

"I'm gonna say something. Are you listening?"- Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Triple Frontier

Good. Thanks Frankie.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

About fandom in general, interactions or lack thereof, how something you can feel so happy and passionate about can make you sad at the same time.

The idea of no longer sharing my fics has also been something that's crossed my mind on numerous occasions, but at the end of the day I WANT to share them. I am proud of them and I figure if they make me this happy, I hope they can make someone else happy too.

I continue to trek on, trying to compartmentalize my feelings and press on, creating fics I think others will enjoy as well, and praising the gorgeous man who plays gorgeous characters whose stories I love to change or extend.

Recently, I've felt guilt. Guilt that I haven't been creating and posting enough things for you to indulge in. And then I remember that in the last 4 weeks, I wrote and posted 3 fics.

3 fics where a majority of the reblogs are my own, and most of the notes are likes.

I'm feeling this way because of the lack of interaction. I'm not blaming or pointing fingers or trying to extend any guilt to any of you (and thank you endlessly to those who do reblog and comment and send messages and have conversations about them 💗) But I can safely say that this is a widespread issue across all fandoms alike.

It's disheartening. People leave and give up and have their creativity crushed to the point they no longer participate or share their wonderful art.

I came across a post that I reblogged yesterday that added another level onto all of this.

Artists and writers having to "market" and promote their work in hopes it'll help drum up excitement for what they have coming up.

As if taking the time and energy to create that fic of piece of art isn't enough, now we have to work like a full marketing team in hopes we will get a few more reblogs or comments.

I have seldom participated in tag games where you share snippets of WIPs etc because more often than not, the response to them are *crickets*. It's embarrassing and gives off that "no one is interested so why bother sharing it" vibe.

We shouldn't have to work that hard to get feedback on the things we share.

I know, and respect, that some people experience comment anxiety, but I promise you that if you're able to, whether it be a string of emojis or keysmashes or even a gif, you will be making a difference.

This happened to me yesterday.

Right when I felt like it's all fruitless, someone swooped in with a comment that gave me hope and reminded me why I do it. And it was on my least popular (and personal favourite) series to boot.

Because of this simple act of communication, my hope and motivation has been restored.

Now I know I'm going to get people saying "you should write for yourself" (I do) and I shouldn't rely on others to keep me motivated (I don't, I have Charlie Hunnam for that) but it's such a key component to all of this and I think most creators can agree to that.

So please, for the love of fandom and the things you love (the actors, the characters, the shows or films) PLEASE INTERACT WITH THE ARTISTS AND WRITERS WHO CREATE INCREDIBLE ART AND FICS FOR THEM.

You may not realize what an effect you have, but I promise you, you do, and it may even help save your favourite artist from abandoning it all.

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

baking contest w/ the avengers!!

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 1k

request: yes / no

original request: OMG CAN U PLS DO THE AVENGERS IF THEY HAD LIKE A COOKING OR BAKING CONTEST?

dynamic: avengers x teen!reader (teenage avenger series)

characters: reader, scott lang, nick fury, clint barton, harley keener, peter parker, miles morales, tony stark, pietro maximoff etc

a/n: HECK YEAH I CAN!!!! i loved this idea sm i was so excited to get this request :D i'm getting back into writing so sorry if it's a lil bad lol. also guys i'm gonna open requests again so feel free to submit!! i have a lot of muse for spiderverse stuff atm hehe so i may post again today!! tysm, hope u enjoy!!!

taglist: @shefollowedthestars @thecloudedmind @ayohitmanddaeng

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

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so there’s this thing that the avengers do

in order to do team bonding

they’ll assign partners in the beginning of the year

& each month, a new set of partners will choose something to do

and it’s always super fun

like that’s how u ended up at the trampoline park last month

& how scott ended up with a broken arm rip king

so this month had to be something a little less dangerous

kinda funny when u think about it like it’s literally the avengers they’re in dangerous situations all the time

and while you wanted to do something different, certain ~forces~ kept preventing that

like y’all were watching a movie a couple weeks ago

and fury came on the screen 

how he could hack into it idk hes nick fury dude he can do anything

but he just looked at the camera and said “no more dumbass trampoline parks”

HAH

so yeah it had to be something tame 

anyway so this month was you and scott!!!!

best duo ever!!!!!!

so you had to plan what to do

& scott refused to go skydiving bc that was your first choice

smh scott it would be so fun!!!!

his arm was still broken & he said that was why he wouldn’t go but like…. scott we know ur a scaredy-cat

anyway you were trying to decide when suddenly he was like

“y/n!!!! i totally forgot! the great british baking show just premiered and i promised clint we could watch it together!”

and that gave you an idea

scott LOVED it

but y’all needed a couple things before 

first of all, u needed baking supplies

when i say baking supplies i mean BAKING SUPPLIES

there’s like a thousand avengers at this point bruh :’)

scott almost got one of those instacart orders for it but u hated the thought of an instacart person getting ur crazy order

so it was store time :D 

let’s just say tony’s credit card was used very well that day 😛

then it was time to pick teams

not everyone had to participate

wanda said she wanted in

so pietro joined too which was slightly concerning

the man literally burnt a bowl of cereal once

and ur probably thinking “how—”

EXACTLY

only you and harley saw it and honestly it rendered u both speechless

tony joined too

but you and scott made sure he knew that there could be NO robots 

vision asked to be a judge

scott said “vis, we really appreciate that but… uh… don’t you like not eat?”

“ah! you are correct, scott. i do not consume food in the traditional way. however, given my vast knowledge & global database, i do believe that i would be a very good judge of presentation and overall ingredient chemistry.”

“alright, you do that buddy!”

also off topic but why do i just know that tony would give vision the nickname “chat gpt”

 sorry i had to get that out ANYWAYY

you got a few more people to participate 

sam and bucky wanted to be a team, and harley peter & miles wanted to be a team too

yknow what that was fine by you

so the day came.

you had turned one of the empty conference rooms into a crazy kitchen setup

thx party city for the confetti & balloons!!! ;)

in came your loyal hosts, scott & clint

(clint begged you and scott to let him host, he kept using a british accent until you said yes & just trust me it was good that he finally stopped)

you, natasha, and vision were the taste & presentation judges

you surveyed scott’s & your work, pretty proud of how it turned out

“ALRIGHTY THEN, READY, SET, OFF THE BLIMEY!!”

vision shot you a quizzical look, but you just shook your head.

scott & clint rly were a…. hosting duo

yep, the most… hosting duo of all time

the hostiest hosters to ever host

omg the funniest thing was that they kept eating the cookie dough from harley peter & miles’ station

they literally had to push them away

peter & miles webbed their hands shut HAHA

everyone else seemed to be doing pretty well though

aside from their usual arguing, bucky & sam seemed to actually be making something good

wanda was perfect as per usual

and pietro was zipping around the kitchen, causing tony’s flour to rise up in his face

steve came over, blowing a whistle and pointed at pietro

you and scott had enlisted him to be the referee

yes, cooking shows don’t normally have referees, but think abt the ppl we’re dealing with here 😀

anyways finally time was up!!!

but you and scott still had a trick up your sleeves.

“and now presenting our special guest judge… GIVE IT UP FOR NICK FURY!!”

yes that’s right, he had said yes to this

after you promised to finish a mission report for him

and bought him some new eyepatches

which was why he was wearing a navy blue one complete with rhinestones

pietro was up first, and he placed four slices of chocolate cake in front of all the judges.

“i gotta say p, this actually looks really good!” you spoke, and he beamed.

natasha didn’t look so sure

“as y/n says, it does look alright on the outside. however, it does seem like there’s some sort of… strange ingredient in the chemical makeup… i am going to analyze for a moment.” said vision

“aw, let’s just eat the damn thing already!” fury spoke, and so you all did.

“mm, it’s good!!” you said, and natasha nodded in agreement.

but did not have the same reaction. 

he had stopped chewing, and his eye had narrowed. he was giving pietro a death stare.

“uhm… fury? what is … jolly wrong with you?” scott asked, his british accent wavering.

“yeah… guv’nr?” said clint.

“who the hell puts hot sauce in a damn chocolate cake. you better start runnin’ maximoff, because i’m comin’ for you!!” fury spoke, getting progressively louder.

“that one was supposed to be for y/n- i mean vision! yeah! oops. um…” pietro spoke, before disappearing from the room in a quick streak.

after that, fury left. 

and that's why now cooking/baking competitions are banned on the premises of SHIELD!!

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