#I hope ya’ll enjoy this lil introduction to him

[devil-doll13]

Stay Clean

Tw: Mentions of Death/Murder, maybe eating people ig lol

(I just wanna preface this by saying I know basically next to nothing about fixing cars or motorcycles lol so if there are any inaccuracies I apologise for that!)

Horror/Slasher Oc writing for Maxwell “Max” Holt

Dividers by firefly-graphics

“… missing case last night has been reported to local law enforcement. Identified as North Carolina-born Mark Fisher, the 33 year old was last seen drinking at a bar in Downings before he disappeared without a trace. This again marks another in a series of disappearances that has concerned the public, with some expressing worries that it is the work of a serial killer or a human trafficking ring. Police are still investigating if these cases are conne-“

Max groaned and fiddled with the knob of the radio, a dusty yellow rag over his hand to prevent the grease from staining it. Switching over to the local rock station, he smiled as Motörhead’s ‘Stay Clean’ replaced the uncomfortable chatter of the news; Lemmy’s thundering bass was always more reassuring to hear.

Especially now, the small voice in his head whispered to him. He was reminded of exactly what he did last night; an impulse brought on at least in part by his victim’s poor treatment of Debbie, the waitress at his favourite diner. It might not have been the wisest idea to kill again after the last time, but at least now his hunger pangs had subsided. With Mark he’d sated them till’ the next month.

Shaking his head to disperse those thoughts, Max’s hands came to rest again on the shiny bronze chrome of the Chevrolet in front of him. She’d come in with a nasty dent in her bumper from a collision. Thankfully nothing serious, but the guy had mentioned she just up and stopped on him. Not a problem you’d really want to ignore either way. His boss Jerry had her first, mentioned ‘some issue with the fan-belt’ he’d sorted out. She just needed some little fixes and then she’d be good to go, he’d said.

Max gave her engine another look over, wanting to be sure he’d gotten everything. Any other issues would probably show up when he started her up in a test-drive later. His keen ears picked up everything, so he knew when a car didn’t sound right. It was something Jerry had no idea Max got from his lycanthropy; he only knew it was another helpful addition to his toolkit when he hired him.

“… Max!” For a second he thought he heard a voice shouting over the din and he raised his head. By the office door of the workshop was his coworker, Leo, leaning against a cluttered tool cabinet. Max turned down the radio a tad.

“Oh, yeah, Leo. What’s up?” Max perked up a bit at the appearance of his work buddy, the only other person employed at the shop aside from him.

The younger man seemed to be preparing himself to ask him a question. Leo was a bit of a nervous type, so Max was used to the way he tended to need reassurance now and again. He seemed to try and wring his hands out on an oil-stained tank top, a futile endeavour.

“Hey man, just double-checking to be sure… You’re still free for our campaign on Saturday night, right?”

“Yeah!” He exclaimed with a toothy grin, sharp canines on display.

The subject of D&D had come up in a conversation over drinks the other night. He had reminisced over playing with his friends back in highschool and Leo expressed a desire to learn more about the game. Max was excited at the prospect of playing again, and gladly offered to teach him and his two younger sisters the joys of D&D. In all honesty, he really missed it. It had been years since he properly sat down and played at a real table. Although he’d probably be the DM so he could guide them in their first campaign, the thought still made him giddy inside.

“I got somethin’ brewing up that’s more beginner friendly” Max continued, blue eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. He took his hands off the car to gesture wildly, an old habit “I’m a bit rusty myself after so long not havin’ played, so I could probably use a good refresher too.” He admitted with a wry quirk of the lip.

“Thanks for letting me know… Joan an’ Jessie are real excited about the whole thing. Wouldn’t stop badgerin’ me about it an’ asking me if you were still comin.’” Leo scratched the back of his neck, seeming eager to shift the blame onto the twins.

“Not that I’m not lookin’ forward to it too!” He added hastily, big brown eyes as wide as saucers.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna miss something like that.” Max assured him, chuckling. Leo nodded bashfully, then cast his gaze over to inspect the Chevrolet still docked in the workshop lift.

“…Front tire on that’s gonna need a bit of pumpin.’ I’ll go get er.’” Then he ducked back in to look for the necessary equipment.

That was Leo: real shy, but good with cars.

After work Max peeled off his grimy coveralls, replacing them with his usual washed out denim jeans and a black leather jacket. It was approaching Summer, and the warm sun beat down on the cracked pavement. Still, a cool spring breeze necessitated extra layers. Especially with his ride…

He rounded the corner toward where he’d left her, and he smiled as she came into view; his beloved Harley Davidson. Her glossy red paint was unmistakable, metal exhaust pipes gleaming in the sunlight.

He felt no shame in admitting she was his pride and joy; he had fixed her up himself, and she’d been with him for years now. Feeling the wind whip past him as he went 20 over the speed limit on the back of her was exhilarating beyond all words could express.

Max jogged over and fished his keys out of his pocket, resting his palm on the black leathered handlebar. A dark-visored helmet rested on the seat. Snatching it up, he shook his hair out of his ponytail, his tousled blond curls still damp from sweat.

He kicked his leg over to start the girl up, and soon the fierce growl of her engine reverberated through his bones. She purred mightily, spitting fumes all the way down the road as he headed back home.

As he came up to his house Max was pleasantly surprised to see Jack’s rusty blue pickup truck parked in the driveway. He definitely hadn’t been expecting him. Of course, Jack wasn’t the type to give prior notice before he called in, (Maybe that would dampen his mysterious appeal) so Max just gave him his own key so he could come and go as he pleased. Now he was used to receiving random visits from the elder lycan.

Max could see the dim light of his television through the window as he parked beside Jack’s truck, so he hurried to unlock the door and catch up with him.

“Hey, Jack!” He called out cheerfully as he hung up his jacket. There was no answer from the taciturn Jack. Max was used to that too.

Entering the kitchen, he saw the silver-haired man standing in the doorway to his living room. He was watching Judge Judy with a beer in his hand, technicolour light reflecting off his wolfish golden eyes.

“How are ya?” He tried again.

No response. Jack kept his eyes on the TV as he took a swig of the bottle.

Max shrugged and opened the door to his mini fridge, pulling out a cold beer of his own. A sharp hiss cut through the air as he pried off the bottle cap. He tried to ignore the tension in the air as he gulped down a mouthful. It tasted less refreshing than it should have.

Jack swivelled his head around, slowly, to look at him from out of the corner of his eye. There was an old scar on his face, one he never spoke about.

“Heard what ya did on the news…” He finally said.

Max froze. He felt his whole body tense up instinctively before he forced himself to relax. Jack knew. Jack understood; he wrestled with the same urges. All lycanthropes did. Still, they’d had a silent agreement never to speak of what he did.

“...Yeah?” His voice came out quietly, treading carefully.

Jack turned his attention back to the TV again, leaving him to stare down at the floor

Max resisted the urge to sigh. This is what he hated the most: the long, drawn out scoldings.

“… I don’t disagree with the choice you made. If anything, that man probably had it comin.’” That made Max look back up again, hopefully.

“But kiddo, there are consequences to livin’ like we do. Don’t forget that.”

Jack sent a pointed look his way, “Jus’ don’t get caught… Keep your nose clean, ya hear me?” He reached out a rough, calloused hand to pat Max on the shoulder. A little harder than necessary, perhaps for emphasis.

Max nodded obediently, swallowing the lump of beer in his throat. He supposed that wasn’t so much of a scolding as it was advice. Jack seemed to feel some responsibility for any mistakes Max made. Compared to him, he was only a pup, after all. And he had lived a long life, longer than any human could hope to live.

The rest of the night there was no more talk of the killings, which Max was grateful for. He offered to cook dinner for the two of them, and they ended up reminiscing again about the silly things he used to do when Jack first met him. Max grew lively again, recounting older stories from his childhood when he was even more of an idiot. This amused Jack greatly, even drawing out a rare chuckle from the older man.

Later he watched Jack’s truck kick dirt up on its way out of his driveway and down the road, waving goodbye as his words from earlier echoed in his mind.

Keep your nose clean, he’d said. He knew that he was just trying to tell him to be careful, and not attract too much attention with his meals.

He knew he wouldn’t stop doing it. He couldn’t. The world would be better off in the end, he convinced himself. But it was his accursed hunger that really controlled him in the end. He decided he’d continue to kill and feast on assholes like Mark, but after that he’d lick his chops and leave no evidence; otherwise his peaceful life in Downings would be over. Just like before.

Max wasn’t given to brooding over his problems either way, so he resolved to think no more of it for now. Instead he set himself about a far more appealing pastime: setting up his new campaign for Saturday…

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @goldrose-star, @the-pinstriped-hood, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better)

[joshnbd-blog]

✤ INTRODUCTING,

For a second I thought I saw HARRY SHUM JR. around here, but it was just JOSHUA SHÀO. I heard that they are TWENTY-THREE and that they JUST MOVED HERE. They are a DEMISEXUAL PANROMANTIC CIS-MALE known as the ARTISTIC VISIONARY around here. I know that they are an TRAVELING FREELANCED ARTIST/PHOTOGRAPHER. I’ve talked to HIM and they seem COMPASSIONATE & PACIFIC, but also UNCONVENTIONAL & STUBBORN.

Hi, lovelies! The name’s Rue and I’m so ecstatic to be here. I also must apologize for being a bit late to the party BUT I promise I can make up for it to ya’ll by giving you this precious little gem I call Joshua. He’s such a cutie and here’s to hoping you all love him as much as I do! Underneath are few things you want to know about him and if ANY OF YOU want to plot a little somethin’, somethin’ please IM me or like this post so I know you want to plot. Without further ado and an end to this looooong intro, enjoy!

okay loves, so this is my cinnamon roll joshua 

but he sometimes goes by josh, jay, && jj

but he doesn’t care what people call him as long as it’s kind

he ultimately comes from a pretty well off upper middle class family but he doesn’t particularly get along with them bc they’re pretentious traditional pricks yet despite this he doesn’t let that familial estranged phase him…much  even though he feels hurt by all the isolation from his parents from time to time

to put it plan and simple josh is an art ho

he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. no joke.

no srsly his place back home is full of sensual shit && art; it’s getting     out of hand somebody stop him

he strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself (not just through painting/drawing) and that everyone has the     freedom to express themselves however they please

and because of his beliefs he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants bc yolo

his appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of make-up and glitter around the eyes and lipsticks. he’s clothes are v flow-y but don’t let that fool u

cause he doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his wealth within his style so he does dress to impress let me tell u (he’s a fashion ho too)

his hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric

other than being a flower child josh can be a sassy n stubborn lil mcnugget at times. he believes what he believes and doesn’t take people’s crap if he feels threaten by someone

good luck trying to get under his skin cause baby boy has a hard shell but he’s soft in the middle (kind of like the ninja turtles except he wasn’t raised in poop)

in regards to that he has a way of being unconventional and anti-authoritarian at times so if someone’s barking out orders he’ll likely find some other way to get to the top

not only that but he’s kinda freaking intelligent. cause even tho he likes fashion and art he also has a passion for school and enjoys using brains over brawn to intimidate his enemies (like he has any pls)

although i said  he can be sassy he’s generally super friendly and loves to make new friends whenever he can and has a very tranquil personality.

he’s a freelanced  traveling artist/photographer and he loves his job more than anything

he identifies as demisexual panromantic because while he isn’t disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions, but rather finding     personality, intellect, and an existing emotional connection considerably more appealing. the thought of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

OH I ALMOST FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT PART!

his ragdoll cat named ginsberg is basically the love of this flower’s life

he found the name inspiration from his fav poet allen ginsberg and from the movie kill your darlings that he’s watched a million times over