#idk if i'm even gonna bother tagging this lmao

[something-about-sunflowers]

This is a really dumb and unimportant thing but I live to complain so I'm gonna:

The Revenge does not have a crows nest. It does not. It drives me CRAZY when I read in fic 'he/they was/were in the crows nest' because it does not have one. And because I know it's a dumb thing to be annoyed about.

What it DOES have are TOPS, which are little platforms on the masts that sit at different levels (with different names depending on which one). Stede and Ed were on the main-topmast the morning after the lighthouse fuckery.

[cuteniarose]

I'm bored and can't sleep because of cramps so I decided to mess around with an incorrect quotes generator using the latest OCs @katkastrofa and I created that I unfortunately cannot talk about in detail here because I'd get nerfed in an instant:

[laughinglynx]

.

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

[romanticatheartt]

Hi I hope you are having a good day! In regards to the Nesta stans, I completely get it. I have found myself in a similar situation with some Feyre stans. On multiple occasions the toxic ones have wished grape upon Nesta stans and said that they need to be abused. It has gotten out of hand on both sides and SJM definitely needs to address it to some extent.

-✨️

Oh, I know. Don't worry I'm aware there's at least one toxic fan in each side of the fandom and trust me I have blocked every single one that I come across. I'm not saying Feyre, Rhys, or IC fans don't have one rotten apple.

I think last night was my last straw. Every day I see at least one anti*Feyre/Rhys/IC in their tags and it seems like they talk more than half of the time about their dislike of other characters than their favs. And it seems they hate every other character in these books except Nesta... like why do you keep reading the books if you hate everything about them? There are 2.5 books dedicated to IC (and they're gonna be in the future books as well, specially Feysand) Idk how you managed to keep reading them all cause if I so much as not vibing with a book, I don't even bother to read the rest let alone dislike the book.

The worst part is most of them also find a way to defend abusive characters like Tam/in and Er/s. I don't have a problem if you like these characters but I draw the line where people try to sell them as saints and "misunderstood" characters and at the same time bring down other characters against the canon to bold these…

The same goes with Nesta but my difference with others is I acknowledged her abusive behaviour and I still like her. I acknowledged she had trauma but I never use it as an excuse to prove she hasn't done anything wrong. I don't excuse her actions because she's a woman (because I've seen them do it) I like her character as she is and I definitely won't change the canon to justify her actions…

I'm always in Feyre, Rhys, or Feysand tags and it hasn't gone by a day when people are not defending their favs against these awful takes. And even if they're talking about Nesta and tag it as anti*Nesta, they're mostly talking the truth lol. Like I've seen better character analysis from some of antis about Nesta than her fans which is laughable.

You don't have to worry about me starting to talk shit about Nesta lmao I'm not vile like them and I'll definitely won't make it my whole personality and dedicate my blog to it. I rather stan my favs and create a safe place with almost zero hate for any character (I'm a human I need to hate on something sometimes😭) and be respectful to everyone. And if I don't like a blog? Well, I simply block them easily as that. I've had blocked Feysands, Eluciens, and Gwynriels. It's nothing strange cause idc if we have the same interest in some parts but if I see them disrespectful toward any character or anyone, idc if we share 100% opinions on other things, you're blocked bye :)

And sjm should definitely do something but she's thriving on these things because she doesn't care if it's a bad take or a disrespectful comment, people are talking about her books and it's a free promotion for her. Didn't you see how they barely promoted hofas? it was almost nonexistent…

So I completely lost hope in her. People might say she's protecting herself from these, well… if she is then she shouldn't have any problem with people leaving her fandom because of this toxicity and being so disconnected from the fans.

[purpurussy]

literally haven't eaten anything all day (it's gone 7pm) or been outside in several days or slept more than 4 hours/night in the last week so im probably just being insane for no reason atm but

i feel like I'm at a weird sort of crossroads with this blog?

when i made this account i saw it as kind of an experiment in vulnerability and positivity. i said i'm gonna try my best to post what's in my heart and not care whether it does numbers or not. if people like it they like it, if not that's okay because i like it and i'm having fun. and i'm gonna practise some kind of general radical positivity/acceptance towards others too. like i promised myself i would not allow this to be anything other than a positive experience, a nice opportunity to express myself in a way that's disconnected from how people see me irl and maybe connect with likeminded people along the way

and once i started writing fic i literally couldn't stop, like the idea of being able to share my writing and have other people enjoy it too is so exciting and motivating to me. there is so much happening in my google docs atm and it feels so good to be writing again after years of feeling too depressed to create anything

however unfortunately i am the grumpiest most insecure person on earth and i have never let go of anything in my life. i've already been unable to stop myself from wading into discourse™ and the general social media fomo/insecurity is starting to get to me. like when did i go from just gleefully shouting into the void, to constantly checking my activity, trying to figure out the best times to post, literally crying when my stuff doesn't do as well as i wanted it to??? taking note of which posts flopped and which ones did well, so i can post more of the popular content instead of just posting what i want. none of this is even real, yet it's been bothering me in a very real way. most of which is just my brain turning it into a negative experience for fully self-imposed reasons

i do think social media is poison in general. and i know it does not work at all for someone who is very prone to having a complete menty b at the first sign of any kind of rejection. and i know a big part of the problem is that i'm attaching too much value to this blog and how people respond to my posts (I have been connecting with my friends irl more lately, but social media is literally designed to prey on the part of your brain that perceives social rejection as a threat to your existence so unfortunately it feels like this matters to me a lot more than it should. also my irls do not want to hear about dan and phil lmao)

idk if i should just accept that this is not good for me and delete, or if it's possible to once again achieve the carefree fun i was having at first. maybe if i can work on my irl issues i'll start to feel a bit better and then it won't bother me as much?

i'm also sort of wondering how much i should reveal about myself? like i want to feel completely free to post as much cringe/insanity/weird smut as I want. and if i was posting in a way that would be easily traceable back to my actual identity then i'd definitely be a lot more careful with what i say. but on the other hand i wanna get to know people better! it would be fun to hop into a discord and actually have a conversation with people rather than just rambling in the tags on their posts. so i'm not really sure what to do with that either. it's kinda fun to truly exist as a completely formless entity in a way, like im literally just tumblr dot com slash purpurussy and there's something freeing about that, even if it does make me feel like i'm missing out on a chance to connect with people properly sometimes

also that idea scares me! everyone on here is genuinely so cool and wonderful and it gives me such a huge dopamime hit when someone i admire likes my stuff. so it's just scary to interact with people more because it feels like oh no they're gonna realize im actually a cantankerous little troll that lives under a bridge and is a nightmare to talk to lmfao

this makes no sense and i'll probably delete it in a bit i just had to get it off my chest

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

author interview

thanks to @allaganexarch for the tag!!! <3

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

29! considering i only started posting in march 2023, i think that's not too bad!

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

207,225 ! it's gonna go up by a LOT with the new fic i'm planning, that one is easily gonna be 80k or more lol. but for now, it is this! :)

3. what fandoms do you write for?

i am only inspired by one (1) tall british woman lol

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

particular

push me gently (into love)

when the last restraint is gone

violet soul

danger level - one

honestly, i am not surprised! checks out ahaha. people love rom-coms and porn i suppose :)

5. do you respond to comments?

always! even if it takes me A While(TM) lol. i feel like people who bothered to take the time and leave a comment deserve my response!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hmmm. my endings ten to be kind of melancholy/open ending type of shit if it's angsty. but the angstiest, as in it's objectively an upsetting ending for a particular character, i think it's either the sad option on my ruin tastes so sweet (almost as sweet as your lips) or violet soul, followed by inevitable (even though i might even consider that one a happy ending given the Circumstances. like it could have been much worse i feel lol)

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

it's either particular or push me gently (into love)!

8. do you get hate on fics?

yes, but not in the ao3 comments! lol. they Find Me on tumblr and yell their grievances here lmao

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i only have a couple of fic that *don't* feature smut of some kind lol. i love writing smut! as for what kind...... the lesbian kind. often really kinky, but not a rule! i've written vanilla stuff, too!

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

not a lot tbh! but i think a fun one i've done is a star wars/wednesday crossover that i exclusively wrote bc i wanted larissa weems and captain phasma to fuck lololol and i wanted to feature a chrome dildo as hommage to phasma's armour. it's fun, silly and really filthy porn if you wanna give it a read lol. chrome and lipstick

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not an entire fic, but i have had my ideas plagiarised, actually by some well-known fandom names. or if i've shared an idea in a chat that person would accidentally get the same idea and post it before me lol. so that has taught me not to share my wips with anyone but my innermost circle lol.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

i don't think so? i don't think i'd like be thrilled with that tbh.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i tried, but the person ghosted me lol. it's a shame, i really like her work.

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

i have spent a significant amount of time in the malora fandom, and i feel that illustrates the type of dynamic i Enjoy lol, but honestly idk if i have a Favourite(TM) ship Ever. i don't control what i'll go Nuts over at any given time.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

if i *want* to finish it i likely will at some point. if i don't, that means i have lost passion for it and i don't want to finish it anymore.

16. what are your writing strengths?

describing emotional states, pacing, dialogue, Very Specific Character Dynamics, smut, incorporating Motifs(TM) and themes.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

world-building (horrible at it, also super disinterested in it), describing places accurately and in a detailed manner unless it's Just Vibes, and i feel i'd be horrible at writing any kind of action scene. i am very good at Internal stuff, not so good at External stuff, i feel. i also sometimes get a bit too dash happy lol. just end the sentence gurl.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i just find it distracting and unnecessary, and if you don't actually speak that language, i'd say don't bother. it comes out weird. just my opinion though! i think a phrase, a sentence, expression or a single word can be fun, but i wouldn't write a whole dialogue in another language, unless i really wanted to use it for some sort of effect. like a point being made of the character whose pov i was writing not understanding something really important or whatever idk.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i honestly don't remember. it may have been supergirl?

20. favourite fic you've written?

i can't choooooose. maybe inevitable? i also love particular. and i am quite fond of our little dance and my entire luci/maz cinematic universe haha!! and when the last restraint is gone. i can't pick a favourite child (i can pick Least Favourites though lol).

tagging: @zephyr-is-tired @dianneking @the-frankenman-writes @alder-saan @gerrikellmansbitchboots @notinmyvocab aaaaand my brain is blank, pls consider yourself tagged if you see this and wanna do it!

[nono-bunny]

Why do you people even watch ATLA if makes so many of you miserable?

WHEN did I ever say it makes me miserable lmao

So. First of all? I literally first watched/got to know this show as a kid alongside my little brother, tuning in to random episodes rather than watching it all in order on my own. I always respected it and thought it was cool, but it took me a bit to watch it all properly, and by that time I already watched the finale, had the inkling it was dumb, and when I watched everything that feeling was only strengthed

Like? Idk who you are but your question seems to imply you're a new fan coming in from the 2020 ATLA renaissance, and it's important to remember that's super not the case for a lot people. I grew up with the show! I keep rewatching it every couple of years! Not because I hate it and I want to get mad, but because I do genuinely love like, 90% of it- and most of the stuff I hate about it, and a lot of my anger towards it was born MUCH later than my first watchthrough. When you watch something you enjoy a whole bunch of times and get familiar with it, of course you're also gonna become aware of its flaws! And, as much as I hate having to say it, Aang as a character IS the show's biggest flaw- he doesn't carry his weight as the show's protagonist, and kid me could sense it, while adult me can now look at him and say WHY.

ATLA fan culture is a bit problematic in the sense that it's been put on such a high pedestal that it can seem weird when people criticize it, but like? There are parts of it that are DESERVING of criticism, heck, pretty much all of the people who worked on it who've spoken about it in the years since would agree that there are some stuff that either didn't age well or weren't well made in the first place, like- being critical of something or hating some aspects of it doesn't mean you hate the whole thing!!!

Fr if I didn't enjoy ATLA at all I wouldn't ever bother rewatching it, or engaging with the fandom, or consuming fan content... But I obviously do, given that I'm here speaking about it YEARS after I first saw it, because it resonated with me, and I love it! Even if I'm still mad as fuck about a lot of stuff that happened in the franchise over the years (and the finale, the can't be stressed enough), that doesn't detract from the fact that there are still more stuff about it that I love than I don't... Even if I tend to talk about the bad stuff because they make me ranty and I have to release all my thoughts somewhere else I'd explode lol. Btw, before I started being more active on Tumblr I'd just bombard my best friend with my thoughts on shit they'd never seen/played/experience so. Tumblr is genuinely just a good place for this because sometimes people see my thoughts and agree, sometimes they don't and it's all chill honestly

Watching ATLA for the most part makes me really happy, actually! But there are a selection of episodes that make me mad, and like? If you're not up to seeing less stellar reviews of the show, THERE'S A REASON I TAG EVERYTHING!! You can just block "anti___" tags, I respect that not everyone agrees with my takes on the show, and I specifically take care that they won't have to see them if they don't want to, so, really... Unless you ACTUALLY wanna have a discussion about my issues with the show, wouldn't it have been so much easier to just block either me or the tags and move on rather than question my enjoyment of something I dearly love for like, no reason whatsoever? Oh well whatever this was kinda a funny ask to get, thanks for the laugh lol "you people" cracked me up

[melchiordommik]

I thinkkk they might have misunderstood which is totally fine but they could have said it somewhat nicer../nm/nay Because even if nsfw stuff is..like around at least make it somewhat difficulter for the minor to find it. thats basically what you been saying anyways- I glad you got a big test done! i bet you did good!! also im good im just chilling and relaxing for a tiny bit. Im probably gonna doodle or smth idk lmao- or make designs... either one

No shade if they did, I hope that's the case imo

I think flagging and tagging is the BARE minimum tbh

Yay relaxing!! Sorry I haven't been messaging u- I'm nervous about bothering people

[jakowskis]

Day 15 - Are there any ships you dislike?

alrighty so. there are only rlly four i ‘dislike’, and the first three… it’s more complicated than anything, it’s not entirely utter pure-n-simple disdain. it’s less about the ships themselves (in two of the cases, anyway) and more about how they seem to be perceived by the fandom + how much they dominate everything. other ships exist, guys! the other characters exist! anyway ill try not to be mean but i am gonna be petty, lol

so for starters, yeah, jack x ianto. i have a very specific view of it, that i do enjoy, but the fandom seems to be doing something else entirely and i've developed some resentment despite myself. especially bc it’s overrated as fuck. don’t get me wrong, it’s iconic, as far as being culturally significant gay rep, but if im honest idk how well they hold up in 2024? i thought their relationship in s1 and s2 of the show was lackluster at best. poorly written bread crumbs. and yeah i know it was big for 2006 but im just personally kind of offended that they could show them sucking face but not show the intricacies of why the hell ianto would fall for a guy who shot his girlfriend down?? like, their relationship is inherently dark and angsty to me and im interested in exploring that, bc the show certainly doesn’t (initially) bother to, and a lot of the fan content i see is either fluffy (??????????), or angsty in a Tragique way, or is just kind of… fetishy and whumpy? people slot them into a Specific Kind of Dynamic and it grosses me tf out. so the fandom culture rubs me wrong, and then it’s just… such a bummer to like owen and tosh and gwen in a fandom that only seems to prioritize this one ship. there are 22k fics in the torchwood ao3 tag, and 13k of them are janto. now, all that being said… they do intrigue me and endear me, just a bit. but it took the audios to make me give a fuck about them, which is sad. 

on that same note - i have the same relationship with tosh x owen, but i'm significantly less fond of it, cuz it just plain rubs me wrong. i like them in theory, so i spent months trying to figure out how to make them work and what other people are seeing that they think is so endearing and cute - i just can't find it. owen's treatment of tosh is just about the only thing i can't stand about him. he treats everyone poorly, but most of the rest of the cast defends themself (or even hit back, like ianto and gwen, and thats why i ship them with him! it’s spicy! i love balanced unhealthy dynamics in fiction hfdsjkf i can’t lie) - but tosh just lets him, creating an unhealthy power imbalance where she’s just getting hurt over and over again, and it makes me wanna fucking punch him cuz she does Not deserve that. i want him far away from her lmao. except under certain circumstances, cuz i have written fic about them, and i’ve read like three rlly good ones (and the main link between them is tosh stands up for herself and puts him in his place! i HATE how he walks all over her in canon ughhhhhhhhh). additionally, i do admittedly enjoy the angst of their canon arc. i just think fandom throwing them together and making it cutesy is lazy, uncreative, and an injustice to both characters. i think the SHOW throwing them together was an injustice to both characters, especially tosh’s. they're tragic and compelling, ill give them that, but theyre not sweet, and i don't think they'd be good for each other. 

(also worth noting on a show where everyone has tension w each other, imo barrowman & gareth and naoko & burn pull it off the least convincingly and have little to no chemistry. like every other duo just kind of sparks in some way or another, and neither of those duos do. which SUCKS bc they’re the canon ones. but it’s also heavily poor writing like they were doing the best w what they had. grr. like i still dont know what the fuck ianto likes about jack or what tosh likes about owen 😭 that’s ridiculous!)

the other ship i’m petty about is jack x john hart. i just think it’s far too popular for what it is. idek why that is, do we have a substantial amount of buffy fans in the fandom? don’t get me wrong, i liked john in the show + i liked their relationship as well, but i'll always be annoyed when a minor character gets more attention than the fascinating main ones. 

and lastly i hate john x ianto, because i respect ianto, lmao. i can’t lie, if he was my fav i’d probs ship it HJFKDSHFK i love putting my favs in awful situations. but as is it just grosses me out. get him outta there!! 

tldr: i don’t interact w the john hart side of the fandom, and if a fic is tagged 'jack/ianto tosh/owen gwen/rhys' i probably won’t read it 😷

[harurio]

guardian ep4

i just started new meds and am overcome with the need to be horizontal at all times so we're gonna watch some more guardiannnn @oneiro-nautical please lmk if the tagging gets annoying tho lol

and right away shen wei, who has clearly never done anything wrong in his life, is getting arrested. look at him. that man's never even rolled through a stop sign

'your confidence and composure reminds me of someone i know' do lao chu and shen wei have a past? i'm interested now

so is this face remover like. flaying these women? is it magic? how gory is this about to get? (edit: okay it's fine)

lmao see i thought shen wei was just really gentle and solemn, like a lan xichen type of person, but here he is bothering chief zhao smirking up a storm. maybe he's truly just a little shit. love him

look at them walking like they're attached at the hip!

look how much space this man is choosing to ignore in favor of letting his arm brush against zhao yunlan's sometimes. shen wei baby i see you

i like how the running gag so far has been situation occurs, shen wei is somehow involved, situation escalates to levels that would injure or kill a human being, shen wei is neither injured nor killed, and zhao yunlan arrives just in time to say are you okay? and shen wei just says im fine :) and you can hear chief zhao go HUH. in his head. progressively louder each time

idk if there is an equivalent of a bedside manner for interviewing suspects but zhao yunlan's is........ not great lol

poor guo changcheng. ma'am do you realize you're flirting with a whole baby

OHHHH so he's stealing the faces and she's putting them on! i see

zhu hong is gorgeous!!!

'don't you know you could get TETANUS' ohhh zhao yunlan your tough act isn't fooling nobody!! you care about him!!!!

awww ik xiao guo is a nepo baby but i'm glad he's starting to find his place on the team (edit: team quit bullying him dear god)

see this is so interesting. before watching this i thought zhao yunlan was a kind of wwx character, really lighthearted, fiercely chaotic good, and he's both those things but he's got an edge on him too. he's not afraid to be mean for the sake of efficiency. whereas i thought shen wei was very lwj, very solemn and hard to read, but he's so damn gentle and he's got such speaking eyes he really reminds me of lan xichen. so far at least

awww chu shuzhi shielded damn cat from the blast. he's just a big ol teddy bear isn't he

i love dramatic conversations held in normal tones of voice between two people facing away from each other standing at least eight feet apart in the great outdoors

ancient!yunlan NAMED HIM??? and (if i've been spoiled correctly) shen wei kept that name for ten thousand years waiting to see him again? just in case that name sparked even the ghost of a memory of their connection? STOP

AUGH

at least this episode didn't bring me perilously close to tears. though i did feel bad for that kid with the dead girlfriend and the revenge molotov. he was annoying but he had a good heart i think. it's sleepy time for me now

[maddy-ferguson]

im tired of ppl using headcanon stuff as proofs on the show. ''mike never stopped calling will.'' yeah no, that is not canon at all, lmao. you guys just took dustin's words and used it as some sort of a canon thing to prove that mike called. c'mon guys... canonically it doesnt make much sense anyways bc it doesnt fit. because mike learned abt joyce's job at the beginning of the season after el sent her letter. unless the duffers just made a mistake and screwed the time, it doesn't make any sense for mike to have called will constantly or 'complaining' due to joyce's job when he just learned abt joyce's job at the beginning of the season after reading el's letters. for all we know mike didnt send any letters to will, and they just only talked for a couple of times. like. that's the canon. we cannot just take something and treat it as canon and come up with criticism based on that. same as the 'lettergate' situation, for all we know mike just didnt bother writing and he didnt have a present. also u cannot really blame will either. for all he knew, the situation was just a repeat of S3. and we know what happened in S3. just a casual 'what if u wanna join another party' doesn't fix the issue at hand, and it literally didnt either. so.

okay, yes, this is what i was saying in the tags of this and what this post i reblogged earlier is about!!! you can't just say "mike 100% called and we don't even know if will called so will is equally to blame for the fact that they didn't keep in touch/for their rink o mania fight". i mean you can but i'll disagree every time because there's this little thing that happened between them that never got resolved that totally explains why will would be hesitant to reach out...who out of the two of them was rebuffed the last time he tried to show that this friendship was important to him? who was crying in the rain and calling himself stupid over it? as a very wise woman once said, i would've wanted mike to make a little bit of an effort too after that tf

and the thing is, if it turns out mike didn't call/doesn't have any unsent letters i'm not gonna be mad at him? they both have reasons for not reaching out. people being more forgiving of will probably has to do with the fact that his reasons are you know. not speculation

as for the technicalities surrounding the theory, the job part of it just doesn't add up to me like i...have spent a very long time thinking about it, it's april and i still don't get it. and as people have pointed out el can't use the phone and there's a walkie talkie in her room and all that but yk. idk. and i like lettergate and i like mikeactuallycalledgate but at the end of the day they're just theories you know

[aaami]

🍂If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog 🍂

(if you want to)

Not gonna tag or send this to anyone, but I'll talk about myself anyway haha >:^)

Uuuh, I'm kinda shy and awkward and don't want to bother people with my ridiculous thoughts about my hyperfixations through dms on like discord, so I scream them into the void on here or twitter and people who want to see them can see them, I guess lmao

I'm actually somewhat interested in cooking and even worked in a lunch cafe/restaurant for a bit, considering studying to become a cook and/or a baker, but then I decided to continue with game dev studies. Idk how good I actually am, but I think cooking and especially baking is fun. (I'm kinda keeping this as a backup option if I just can't get my foot in the game industry)

Parlo un po' d'italiano! I've been taking italian classes this year and even though I'm not super good with languages, I've actually done well and managed to learn something :^) Sadly I'm currently halfway through the last course my uni has to offer, but I'm hoping to continue somewhere else in the future.

[happylandfill23]

well howdy there partner! *tips tiny pink sparkly cowboy hat from party city*

i'm tumblr user happylandfill23 and this is my blog on tumblr dot com!! here's an intro post so you get to know me a bit :]

first things first, you can call me ember (or by my url that works too) and you can refer to me with any pronouns!

i use a couple tags to sort my posts, so i'll explain them here -

[#styrofoamm] - my art tag! this is where all my drawings are so you can check those out if you want!! (this blog was originally supposed to be dedicated to just my art but look where we are now)

[#landfill rambles] - the tag where i just kinda. say stuff. doesn't even make sense sometimes but i just kinda talk or ramble there, yknow get my thoughts out (even if my thoughts are just ham cheese sandwich)

[#cyberdevils] - anything related to cyberdevils, a band i created! there are a few other tags related to this one, those being [#pixie pereira] for the band's singer/guitarist, [#ace calix] for the band's drummer, and [#shags] for the band's bassist (no that's not her real full name btw). oh there's also [#cosmo pereira] who's pixie's younger brother, [#gloria nguyen] for shags' girlfriend, [#shagloria] which is shags and gloria's ship name, and probably even more once i add more characters and lore!!

[#cool art !] - any art i reblog that isn't mine! i forget to tag things on occasion but i can assure you if you scroll through this tag on my blog it will take years upon years to reach the bottom

[#q] - the posts in my queue, nothing much else to say about that one lol

i have 5 other blogs if u wanna follow me there as well -

@styrofoamm - my art blog! this is mostly for archival purposes, but it has all my art reblogged to it and u can follow me there if u wanna see my art or if u like my drawings but think i'm intolerable lol

@ask-cyberdevils - my cyberdevils ask blog! you can ask anything about them and i'll draw a response (unless it's a question to me specifically, which you can certainly ask as well)

@gu1t4rf41ry - pixie pereira (cyberdevils)'s blog

@acexofxspades - ace calix (cyberdevils)'s blog

@shags-shags - shags (cyberdevils)'s blog

i'm not gonna go super in detail about what i like, but you'll probably see me post a lot about gorillaz, blur, nimona, julie (band), mars argo, the owl house, nirvana, ppg, daria, manic street preachers, and several other things i'm not gonna bother listing lmao

feel free to shoot me an ask whenever you want!! i love interacting with y'all and it means a lot even if I don't respond <33

and as i mentioned earlier, you can also send me asks on my second blog, @ask-cyberdevils (PLEASE)

you can also find me over on youtube! i mostly post covers and speedpaints, you can find my channel here :D

idk what else to say here so i hope you decide to stick around!! <3

[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 !!

[lenteur]

HIIIII OMG OMG OMG YOUR REBLOG WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER ❤️ i saw it this morning when i woke up to feed the cats and it made me smile SO WIDE <3 CAT PHOTO IS AT THE BOTTOM 🖤

please whenever you feel the need, just sleep <3 even if it's the middle of the day. try not to stay awake just to sleep at night 💔 i really hope you feel better ❤️

i honestly think idols can pull off the colour pink so well, wish i could dye mine pink but i only suit darker colours of....colours 😂

ikr <3 though i started watching 911 again and i was up til 4am watching it 👀 i know one of the main actresses of glee was revealed to be a bully behind scenes which idk didn't surprise me tbh. i used to love her as an actress but her interviews felt so off to me </3 i really hate bullies 😡😡😡

IM SO SO HAPPY YOU LOVED IT <3 i was actually really struggling with your gift because i was seeing other peoples and i felt like mine wasn't great but then i remembered you saying how the gift was us getting to know each other and that you'd be happy with anything 🖤 i'm really happy you like it <3

BESTIES 4 LYF ❤️ also!!!! tea and biscuits. my favourite snack <3 i'm gonna hopefully start watching a kdrama on friday, bc from then to tuesday, i'm off work so i'll have some time to relax 🥰

i was waiting for you to reply before i posted the gift, i didn't want to post it and then i had to let you reply to an anon. 🖤 you've been so so so kind to me and i just love you already ❤️ i'm so EXCITED to talk more!! 💎

Toffee on the left! Luna on the right ❤️

hey hey hey 💖 of course! it was a great surprise to finally know who you are 💗 now that i've looked at your blog, i can see all the little clues you left during our conversations. especially the wednesday and criminal minds stuff haha

tysm for thinking of me 💕 i am trying my best at taking care of myself but thankfully my mom is with me and she's such a huge help 💝

ah staying up until 4am to watch something reminds me of my teenage years 👀 even if i wanted to i wouldn't be able to do so now </3 which is a good thing hehe oh really? 😡 i mean i'm not surprised either but i'm getting tired of all these celebrities thinking they're better than others. it happens everywhere but, when in a group (ie a show, a group of singers, etc.), there always seems to be one who wants the spotlight to themselves. it's getting repetitive 💔 i already have a hard time getting into a show, but seeing stuff like that, it's no wonder i don't want to watch new shows anymore. i don't have time for drama. i just want to enjoy what i watch in peace, but this makes it hard sigh

i know i wrote a novel in the tags but it's really really pretty 💟 the fact that you took time out of your day to make something for me means a lot. you'll never have to worry about something like that with me 💖 and let me reiterate: our friendship is the true gift 💘

oh if you start the kdrama (or is it a jdrama? cdrama? tdrama?) please let me know which one it is 💓 i'm hoping i can start watching summer strike either tomorrow or this weekend because the premise (and all the gifs i've seen) is really interesting and i think i'll like it 💞

i had a feeling you were waiting for me to answer. i also wanted to answer the last anon message before you revealed yourself or else it would've stayed in my inbox forever hehe💕

OK. okok! i was waiting to answer the rest of your ask before talking more in depth about my new cats toffee and luna (yes, by revealing your cats to me, you are now contractually obligated to share custody of your pets i'm not kidding! jk) UM EXCUSE ME? YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME YOU HAD THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CATS IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!!! like they're so pretty they could be on the cover of vogue, elle, harper's bazaar, any other magazines (my fashion knowledge is limited lmao) 😻 if your friendship wasn't enough (which it is), seeing toffee and luna made this event 124877523368751222222565457426545214852485x better (won't bother deciphering this number but just know it's a lot!) wowowowooooooooooooooooooooooooooowowowowowowowowow! user lenteur is currently disfunctioning </3 cause? (Y)OUR CATS 😻😻😻